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Part 1

Winter. I can't exactly say I love this time of year. There were certain things I liked about winter. Snow always looked so beautiful to me, but I hated being out in it. I had even outgrown playing in it; building forts and tunnels, and engaging in snowball fights. Lately I preferred watching it, like I did now, sitting in my room beside my window. It wouldn't be long until the bus arrived, and I could trudge through my last day of school for the semester.

There were far too many reasons to dislike winter, that I hardly saw the positives anymore. For one, I hated static electricity. Ever since I could remember, the thought of being shocked by someone or something felt, to me, like the worst possible unwarranted intrusion to the human body. I would go as far as to say paranoia sank in over time. It was just that anticipation of knowing it could happen at any moment.

Eventually I began reaching out to touch something metal after I felt I built up static. I thought if I could engage the inevitable shock first, it wouldn't be as bad as it sneaking up on me later. When visiting my grandparents, I would avoid letting them kiss me. I don't know why, but every time they would kiss me, I got shocked. I hated it. It made me curse inwardly, and each time I felt like accusing someone; like how dare they shock me.

The worst thing about winter, is that I learned for the first time what death meant. My father --my real father-- died the summer after my fifth birthday. Being so young, I didn't have a clue what it all meant. I went through the visitation and the funeral like a drone, not knowing my father was laid to rest inside the giant black box in the middle of the room. I didn't pay much attention while various people, some I didn't know, talked about what my father meant to them.

My mother seemed distant for several months afterwards. I kept asking her what was wrong, and I know she tried to explain it. I just didn't understand, or want to understand at the time. Eventually she sat me down, without distractions, and gave it to me straight. It was winter, and I found out my father was never coming back. He had died, and now I knew what it was to be dead. Death never made itself more prominent than in the winter.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I spun from my window to look at Tom. He stood in my doorway with a menacing look upon his face. His hand was caked in chalk; remnants from the busted wall he punched. In his other hand he held a bottle of beer. His eyes were fixed upon me like glue, and they were littered with a multitude of red lines. His breath came in ragged growls, like a dog ready to lash out and bite.

"Waiting for the bus?" I stammered.

"I'll be damned if I'm going to let you wear that crap to school," Tom growled. "Who the hell said you could dress that way?"

"I don't under--"

"Little sissy bitches don't wear jeans and tees," Tom said. "Especially not around me." He took a staggered step forward; bottle shaking in his hand. "You put on one of those damn dresses I bought you."

"I can't wear a dress to school!"

"You'll wear a damn dress wherever I tell you to wear it!" Tom shouted. "Welcome to my new hobby you sissy brat. Say goodbye to all your male shit, and hello to your new life."

"But…" My voice sounded like a whimper.

"Do it!"

I bolted upright in my bed. Short gasping breaths passed between my parted lips. A chill ran up my spine, though it felt like an oven all around me. The house seemed quiet, and my clock showed it was a little past two. Moonlight still streamed through my window, and I collapsed back into my pillow. I tried to steady my breathing as I stared at my ceiling. Eventually my eyelids grew heavy, and I once again drifted off to sleep; a strange and peaceful sleep.

Do you ever get to that point in your life, where you feel you're living more of a fantasy as opposed to reality? Everything seemed that way to me now. Ever since the summer of 1997, I've felt like I've been on a collision course headed toward a dark abyss. It hit critical mass on Thanksgiving, when my feelings and emotions absolutely erupted and washed over me like lava from a raging volcano. I don't know how I'd managed to hold it in for so long, but I finally had to let it go. It drove my stepfather Tom away, and I wasn't sure if or when I would ever see him again.

Weeks had gone by. The days grew colder. They were even talking about a white Christmas this year. Unfortunately they lied. Apparently we got too much the year before. Instead we got a nice drizzling rain that would more than likely last into the weekend. It was Friday, and I had one more class to go before I was free for Christmas break. Our art teacher had let us basically have a free day, as long as we at least did something "artful" while we talked amongst ourselves.

Vanessa had left earlier in the day. She got an early start on her trip to South Carolina. I never saw her after that. It took me awhile to figure it all out, but everything eventually added up. The fights with Danielle, her unattached moods, and her complete change from gossip girl to queen of quiet, all led to one horrible conclusion. Her parents had divorced, and her mother took her across the states to live with her family. I never even got to tell her goodbye, but I suppose she wanted it that way.

Our little group of friends grew smaller every time I turned around. Danielle still barely talked to us. Tracy spent more time with Jason, usually ditching us to hang out with each other. I still saw her at lunch, though I could tell she really was losing interest fast. Something had grown stale somewhere along the way. The only dependable ones happened to be the two lovebirds that would steal away from our pack to have random make-out sessions.

"Why doesn't Megan want to go?" Tiffany asked, as she feigned interest in penciling out a horse on a sheet of paper.

I looked up at the person in which her question was directed. Tawny Simmons; the unlikely girl who had somehow sparked an immense interest from me in the past month and a half. Maybe it was that kiss at Rachel Ford's Halloween party. Perhaps it was that engrossing art project where I had grown so attached to every detail about her face. It could have even been the way those bright green eyes of hers filled with sorrow as she looked at Tiffany. Whatever had happened, or was happening, Tawny Simmons had stolen a piece of my heart.

"She can't go," Tawny said.

"Well why not?" Tiffany asked.

"She's busy," Tawny said. "Her grandmother is coming in for some traditional Korean thing." She sighed. "I can't even recall half of what she told me, to be honest, but you know her family's all about traditions."

"Well I'm going to be gone," Tiffany said. "We're leaving Monday for Iowa."

"What a dismal place to go for Christmas." Vince…

I had a hard time getting used to this guy. He had taken Vanessa's seat at our table, and now basically took her place in our conversation. Usually Tawny provided the smug and cynical remarks, but today Vince had managed to take that upon himself as his mantle. I still had my doubts about him. Vince claimed to be gay, which I had no problem with. He was in a support group with Tiffany, but the way they had been acting around each other lately made me take notice. It seemed a little too flirtatious in my opinion.

"It's really not that bad," Tiffany said, as she looked over at Vince with a smile. "I kind of like going back to the small town country scene." She looked down at the horse on her paper. "It's relaxing in a way."

There happened to be one thing in particular that bugged me about Vince. It was his keen sense of observation. Vince picked up on something I should have. I didn't see it until his perfect smile parted and gave way to what he said next. "What's his name?"

"Desperado," Tiffany said, as she smiled down at her horse. "We named him after the song." She sighed. "I love the song almost as much as I love riding him."

"You never told me you had a horse," I said, wedging myself into the somewhat uncomfortable courting ritual taking place to each side of me.

"Well he's not really mine," Tiffany said. "He actually belongs to Kate, but she let me ride him and I just fell in love." She looked up at me with a sad expression. "We couldn't bring him here, so we left him with my uncle at his ranch."

"Sorry," I said. "I bet you miss him terribly."

"I get to see him enough I guess," Tiffany said, going back to her drawing. "To be honest, I couldn't ride him every day." She let out a slight laugh. "I'd probably get as sick of riding him as I would taking care of him all the time."

"Like I get sick of going to this ballet every year," Tawny said, a bit begrudgingly.

"Is it that bad?" Vince asked.

"Nutcracker Suite," Tawny said. "Every year. My mom claims it's instilling culture and whatnot, and blah, blah, blah. If culture comes from seeing the same boring ballet every year, I'm staying far away from the anthropology field." Her shoulders rose and then slumped in a shrug. "Lynne got out of it somehow this year. So I'm stuck with just my parents." She sighed. "Unless I can find someone to suffer through it with me."

"I'm sure it's not that bad," Vince said.

"Are you volunteering?" Tawny asked.

"Nooo," Vince said, laughing a bit. "I have plans already. I'm sure you can find someone to go with you though."

"What about Bailey?" Tiffany asked, not even looking up from her work.

Tawny and I both looked up at Tiffany at the same time. Then, as if we were in sync, looked into each other's eyes. I really didn't know what to think at that moment. There were a few notions running through my mind. Like for instance, I had never seen a ballet before in my life and knew nothing about them. I also did not take kindly to Tawny's use of the word suffer. Above all that, regardless of her parents being there, Tawny and I had never been anywhere together; at least not alone.

"I wouldn't know the first thing about a ballet," I said.

"What's there to know?" Tawny asked. "A bunch of men and women dress up in tights and dance around like fruits." She looked over at Vince. "No offense."

"Considering I'm not a ballet dancer, none taken," Vince said, shaking his head. "I don't even think I'm that gay."

"Well that exudes confidence in going," I said.

"Exudes," Tawny said, dragging the word out. "Is that the word of the day?"

"I think there's a bit more to ballet than that," Tiffany said, careening her way back into the conversation.

"Oh, don't get all prima ballerina on me," Tawny said.

"For your information," Tiffany said, looking up at Tawny. "I never made prima ballerina, nor did I ever want to be one. I never cared that much about it." She quickly looked down at her drawing. "Something stupid my parents made me do…"

"What's a prima ballerina?" I asked, distracting Tiffany from where the conversation was headed.

"It's a title given to the lead ballerina," Tiffany said quietly.

"Oh…" I looked over at Tawny. "I don't know about all this."

"I suppose you're going to say you have plans for Christmas Eve too?" Tawny asked.

"Well… no," I said. "I mean, things might be… I don't know what's planned. We might not do anything. But I don't know. A ballet?"

"Please?" Tawny said. "I'll make it up to you."

The way her thin eyebrows raised in the middle, and the way her penetrating eyes seemed filled with tortured, pleading sorrow; it all just made me weak inside. Vince and Tiffany seemed to be absorbed in what they were doing. They obviously wanted nothing to do with the situation anymore. Instead they left me to fend for myself, against a version of Tawny who was becoming increasingly feminine. It was a Tawny that also started to understand the power of feminine wiles. I fell for it in the worst way most of the time.

"I don't know," I said. "I'll ask my mom."

"Oh Bailey," Tawny said. "I could just kiss you!"

Tiffany cleared her throat at the suggestion. It made Tawny take notice, and she went back to her old calm and collected self. I smiled at her, and shook my head. Then I went back to my own artwork; a masterpiece I later dubbed "trashcan filler."

"What does one wear to a ballet anyway?" I asked.

"Depends how uncomfortable you want to be," Tawny said, a bit of mocking tone returning to her voice.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Depending on what time of day the ballet is, most people dress accordingly," Tiffany said. "Since it's near Christmas time, I'd suggest dressing up regardless of time of day. Guys wear anything from sweaters and slacks to suits." She tilted her head to the side as she continued to draw. Her beautiful black hair fell from her shoulders. She seemed aloof, and aimlessly continued talking. "Usually they go with the suit around this time of year. Being the Nutcracker Suite, I'd suggest something festive as well. You could wear a Christmas tie or something."

I groaned quite audibly, but not enough to warrant the teacher's attention. "I hate wearing ties."

"Well there is the alternative," Tawny said.

I looked up at her, and found her looking right back at me. For some reason I failed to grasp the small hint she seemed to be implying. I had been slipping on things like that recently. "Alternative?"

"Well for instance," Tawny said. "I'll be wearing a nice dress…" She gave me a less than subtle look now.

"Oh…" I said, finally catching on to what she was saying. "Wait! You… in a dress?"

Tawny gave me a half-smile. "I wear dresses… at times." Her look turned smug. "Not as often as you," she said, lowering her voice, "but then again, I'm not that girly."

"This is a rare occasion then. Perhaps I should go just for proof that you're still a girl," I fired back at her.

"Take pictures," Vince said, laughing a bit.

Tawny shot me a defeated look, but turned quickly to face Vince. "I'm gonna let girly boy's comment slide, but one more from you, and you'll be dancing as my own personal ballerina."

Vince chuckled as he lowered his head back to his work. It still felt weird having him as part of our group. He felt like a wooden splint to our crumbling stone tower. I admit that it wasn't exactly my group, as I'd only known Tiffany coming into it, but it felt like I had no say in it either. Maybe it was because of the way some people had dealt with me, but I just didn't feel safe anymore. I felt like I had to watch my back; like everything around me was orchestrated by someone.

"Anyway," Tawny said, getting my focus back. "I thought about a red dress, but I decided on green." She paused, looking me over. "Red's just not really my color, if you know what I mean." She gave me a slow wink.

"Green's a nice color on you," I said, smiling back. "I think you'll look nice."

"I think she wants you to wear a red dress," Vince whispered to me.

I nearly snapped my pencil in half. Vince had moved himself to be almost right in my face. "I kind of picked up on that," I said, with a sharp tone. "Thanks though."

"Hey, just trying to help," Vince said, backing away from me. "Everyone's kind of edgy today…"

"I don't know if that's too helpful right now," I said. "I…"

"He hasn't dressed since Thanksgiving," Tiffany whispered.

"Why not?" Vince asked, now suddenly very interested. "You look cute when you do."

I nearly groaned outwardly when Vince called me cute. It was one thing coming from the girls, but Vince… "I don't want to talk about it," I said.

"Why not?" Vince repeated his earlier question with a bemused smile. "We're all friends here."

"You assume too much," I thought, as I looked Vince over. Then I suddenly hoped I hadn't said that out loud. "Just… I don't," I finally said.

"We doing anything this weekend?" Tiffany asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Don't think so," I said. "Things are kind of… strange… still at my house."

"Ah," Tiffany said, giving me a knowing look.

"Sorry…" Tawny said. "I've got… plans." Tawny put a lot of emphasis on the last word, causing Tiffany to snap her head around to face her.

"Oh you bitter bitch," Tiffany said. "You know I'd go with you if I could."

"I don't need you," Tawny said. She looked over at me. "I've got Bailey."

"Maybe," I said. "I'm not sure yet."

"Well I hope you two are very happy together," Tiffany said, feigning exasperation. "I guess I'll just have to start dating Vince."

Vince laughed at the remark. I was not as amused. The three of them were obviously kidding around with each other, but for some reason I took major offense to it. I didn't even try to hide the fact that I was angry. Only, nobody noticed me. They had all gone back to what they were doing, unaware of the proverbial steam shooting out of my ears. The only thing I could do, was frustratingly go back to my own work, which I did; in tormented silence, until the bell rang.

We actually didn't do anything that weekend. At least I didn't do anything on Friday or Saturday. Come Sunday I didn't have any plans either. I remember waking early, but staying there in bed. The house seemed so quiet, that I was scared any action on my part would stir some kind of commotion monster. I just stared at my ceiling, thinking about my life in general. Eventually the silence bugged me. It gave me the urge to write, and I forced myself to sneak over to my desk.

The first official day of winter had brought with it a light flurry of snow, but it wasn't sticking. I sat staring out my window, watching the snow dance and twirl down to the street below. My diary sat open on the desk in front of me. I'd been writing all morning, avoiding the tension and solemn atmosphere of our house. I had a lot of time to reflect on the last few months. It always felt like everyone was pressing me forward. Now I had an opportunity to sit back and breathe; to look at the road ahead, and to answer some of the harder questions.

Our household had grown a little tense. Justin seemed to always be running since Tom wasn't there to give him something to do. My mother seemed depressed, and though I knew she stood on my side, I couldn't help but feel bad about what had happened. I could've prevented the whole thing. All I had to do was pretend not dressing didn't bother me. All I had to do was lie; to our company and to myself. It would've been fine for one more day… I think

However, I grew tired of lying to myself and everyone else. The last words I said to my stepfather kept entering my mind. I couldn't just say I didn't mean them, as I honestly did. Through all of the insecurities, and ups and downs, I actually did feel good about myself. I felt like I was on the best path to self-discovery that I could find. Hearing Doctor Dinesh tell me that I couldn't be fixed, actually lifted a huge burden from my shoulders. It nearly broke Tom's control; his macho confidence of having a way to "cure" me in the end.

This whole time I had been seeking the path to a cure. I did it for everyone else, including Tom, to restore some type of normalcy to our lives. Things never were normal though. Thinking back on how all of this started, I had to marvel at the oddities surrounding my life. It only took two months of summer to realize there was something unique about me. What started as a silly game of dress up with my girlfriend, Tiffany, and her sister Kate, had developed into several months of exploration.

Neither I, nor Tom, could ever imagine those circumstances happening in any other fashion but haphazardly. He could point the finger at Tiffany, but she could never have predicted my reaction to the game we played. I could have easily refused the offer of my girlfriend's little game. Aside from that, I could have absolutely hated it once we started playing. The truth was, I enjoyed it; so much so that I dressed on my own after the fact, with no pressure or suggestion to do it. Not only that, but I continued to dress; sometimes by suggestion, but most of the time of my own predilection.

Becoming Bailey, in person more than name, had really opened my eyes up to the world around me. It opened me up to other things I never could have planned for. I'd almost forgotten Zachary; the boy I used to be. Bailey even had more friends than Zachary ever did. They weren't just friends either. All of them were unique in their own certain ways. That's what I concentrated on that morning; writing about the unique people in my life so I would never forget them.

I started with Tiffany. She had become my mainstay; my confidante in this part of my life. I thought at first she simply wanted to push me more toward my feminine side. In all honesty, she did have an agenda. I pretended for a long time that it wasn't relevant, but she did want me to be more girl than boy. Though it never felt forced, she did sway over to the female side when she lent me her friendly suggestions and advice.

Tiffany had her reasons though. It turned out that she actually preferred girls over boys. What started out as a stupid little game, ultimately altered both of our lives. Her parents coaxed her into counseling, where she made the "self-discovery" of being a lesbian. I still never came to grips with how someone her age could discover that on her own. I mean, sure, we all have our own feelings, but suggestions from older people can go a long way at that age. I still clung to my own belief that Tiffany was bisexual. She could have dropped me for a real girl a long time ago.

Bisexual became a familiar term early on in my life. It seemed to be a term I ran into quite frequently as the years went on. Though I think most of us have those unexplained bisexual moments in our lives, I never met anyone truly open to both genders until I met Megan. I personally had sworn off of guys early on in life, but Megan, who was typically shy, was unabashed about sharing her preferences. Of course she didn't give details, but she wasn't afraid to say who or what she found appealing.

I think Megan opened me up a little to the thought of bisexuality. Though I wasn't ready to run and jump into the arms of some guy, my kiss with her happened to be the first time I kissed another boy. Megan, for all intents and purposes, was technically a boy. She shared nearly the same problems I had growing up, but she sought her path early on. She knew what she wanted. I thought I had given her courage at one point, but ever since then I wished I had her courage.

Not only did Megan open me up to the possibility of boys, but she also opened me up to something else. Megan happened to be part Korean, and a damn cute one to boot. However, it wasn't her ethnicity, but rather her culture that Megan introduced me to. I learned quite a bit about her family's values and beliefs, including a deep-rooted respect for elders. It was all so different to me, and made it difficult at times as I tried to respect Tom. Megan had her own style, personality and fears about who and what she was, yet we found common ground in our uniqueness.

As I thought about Tiffany and Megan, there wasn't any way I could stop thinking about Tawny. The strange little encounter between the four of us, on Halloween, left me confused. I had to rethink my strategy on how I even approached these three girls. Another "game" with friends, had stirred up emotions and feelings for each of them that I felt hesitant, or maybe even reluctant to explore. I loved Tiffany as much as I could love a girlfriend at my age, but now I had a huge crush on both Megan and Tawny.

Then there were the boys who just happened to drift into my new life. Ever since Nathan Riley jogged by that first night, I'd felt a strong attachment to him. Nothing had happened between us, but I felt I had to avoid him to keep it that way. My way of avoiding him, however, to most people might have looked as sound as a nude man running through the park on a cold day. The truth was, I had started jogging with him three times a week. This assured that I would be alone with him for at least an hour on each of those days. Even longer if you counted the stretching. That task alone brought some uncomfortable closeness.

My mother actually encouraged it, where I'm sure Tom would've thrown a fit. She had to take me to an appointment with Rajan, the doctor overseeing my condition, and agreed wholeheartedly that I needed exercise. We even went shopping afterwards to get a few essentials. I knew she had my best interests at heart, but I don't think she knew how I felt about Nathan. If she had, I don't think she would've pushed me into asking him. Perhaps she thought I would be safer jogging with him.

Nathan wasn't the only boy that altered my comfort level either. There was, of course, Vince. Annoying as he was now, he got bonus points for rescuing me at Rachel Ford's party. If he hadn't have stepped in to dance with me, I would have fallen prey to the other boys there. Vince saw my predicament, and stepped in. He had an understanding and friendly quality to him, which I happened to admire. The only problem was that I didn't know how to read him. I could never tell if he was just being friendly towards me, or if he genuinely felt an attraction. Sometimes I worried I would be a little experiment on his way to be with another boy.

I felt a lot of people were attracted to me. Whether it was my unique condition, or they simply thought I was cute, I just seemed to get a lot more attention as Bailey. Zachary, what I considered my "old self," had basically slipped off the radar. I never had a lot of friends at my first school, and most of them went to a different school now. The only friend I had left, that knew the old me, happened to be Tiffany, but I always worried more would find out somehow. I'd literally dropped the rest of my friends for that reason, or lost touch of them in some form.

Sometimes I worried about losing Tiffany as well. Tiffany remained steadfast and loyal though. Even faced with ridicule at school, and mistrust at home, I felt she really liked being around me. We had a lot of fun together. She managed to sneak me into an all girl pool party, where I eventually became friends with the host, Tracy. That pool party somehow led to a debacle with another girl named Jillian. She ended up inviting Tiffany and I to pose as mannequins in her family-owned clothing store at the mall.

Even older girls seemed to enjoy having me around, or possibly they liked being around me. While most of them considered me a plaything most of the time, there were a few that took interest in me as a person. Kate, Tiffany's older sister, and Melanie, a girl I met at a day spa, were among the few that showed concern for me and tried to help with my problems. Tracy's older sister, Rebecca, claimed to like me, and Tawny's older sister, Lynne, I think just tolerated me; as she simply tolerated most people.

Then there were a few people I just had to keep an eye on. Dylan, Jillian's cousin, had his eye on me ever since I modeled at 'Tweens. He was a bit of a womanizer, if one could be such as a freshman in high school. Then there was Jason, a boy who used to bully me, but stopped ever since I hooked him up with Tracy. In fact, he had actually started to look out for me a bit after that. The fact that he jumped in to stop other kids from bullying me, is what brought my thoughts back full circle. That incident was the reason Tom made that stupid rule, and the reason why he wasn't here now; four days before Christmas.

Unfortunately, my mood had shifted over the past month. The whole reason I snapped at Tom in the first place, was because he banned me from dressing like a girl. I thought once he left, I had scored some kind of victory. Though the only thing I felt now happened to be guilt. It came that night. Right after I had said those words to Tom, guilt washed over me like a wave over a sandy beach. Each little grain of sand represented a piece of me, that when prodded by the tide of guilt, shifted and rearranged, or was merely taken away.

I didn't feel whole. People were coming and going from my life, and I couldn't keep up with who I was or wanted to be. Like the shifting sands below, I had no solid ground to build myself upon. I simply felt lost. And as I drifted more and more into that feeling, I felt no urge to dress. Perhaps it was never an urge to begin with, or that was the wrong word, but simply put, I felt I didn't belong; in my clothes, in my house, or even in the world. My small bit of freedom from Tom came at a heavy price emotionally.

As I flipped through the pages of my diary, I felt some of the memories coming back to me. I relived the good times mostly in my mind, but even the bad times slipped in here and there. It helped knowing most of these people I'd written about had helped me through the rough patches. Some of them had even helped me feel empowered enough to survive the road ahead. I guess it was only a matter of time before I took control of my life back from Tom. He had been steering it for too long now.

The sound of our doorbell broke me out of my trip down memory lane. I scrambled to get up from my desk and move to the window. Usually I could see the person on the front porch from my vantage point above it. I hadn't heard a car, and I saw no other means of someone getting to our house. Right as I got to the point where I could see who it was, my mother had opened the door and let them in. I scurried over to my door and cracked it open a bit to listen.

"Nice to see you again," my mother said to our visitor. I heard a male voice mumble back to her, but I couldn't make out who the voice belonged to. "I think so," my mother said. A moment passed. "Bailey!?"

Her voice coming up the stairs made me jump. I pulled my door open, and waited a moment. For some reason I didn't want them to think I was eavesdropping, or seem eager to know who came to our door. After taking a small breath, I acknowledged my mother's call. Then I waited in the safety of my room, not really wanting to leave it today. In fact, I didn't really want to see anyone outside of immediate family until Christmas. I had even turned down Tawny's invitation to the ballet.

"Nathan's here to see you," my mother yelled. "You want to come up?" she asked, as she climbed the stairs.

"No," Nathan said. "Thanks, but my shoes are wet from the snow. I'll just wait here."

"Suit yourself," my mother said, reaching the top of the stairs. "Bailey?"

Her eyes met mine from down the hallway. She gave me a questioning look when I didn't move. I frantically tried to communicate to her the fact that I didn't look at all ready to entertain a guest. Still wearing the frumpy sweatpants and baggy long-sleeved shirt I slept in, I appeared more suited for heavy housework than seeing a boy. My mother acknowledged her understanding in the situation, and strolled casually down the hallway toward me.

"I can't go down there like this," I whispered to her.

My mother lifted her hand, and played with my hair for a bit. "It's just Nathan," she said. "He's seen what you look like after running. You look fine compared to that."

"I look like I'm about to scrub the floor of the garage," I said.

"Well I don't think he's here to take you to the ball, Cinderella," my mother said, giggling at my predicament. "Just go talk to him."

"Mom…" Inside I felt a little joy at seeing my mother smile, but only a little. She had been increasingly treating me like her daughter since the night I'd asked her to show me how to style my hair. Now it seemed even more pronounced with Tom gone, and what I had said on Thanksgiving.

"Go on," my mother said. "Don't keep him waiting."

I reluctantly pulled myself from the safety of my bedroom. As I came to the end of the hallway, I stopped to take a deep breath. Why did I care so much about how Nathan perceived me? Perhaps it was because he saw the real me despite how I looked. I hoped he saw that now. I turned the corner and looked down the stairs at Nathan. He smiled when he saw me, and walked over closer to the bottom step. I slinked against the wall as I came down the staircase, but I paused near the middle step.

"Hey," Nathan said. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"No," I said, now really second-guessing my appearance. "I've been upstairs, writing in my diary."

"Oh…" Nathan said. "Well you didn't come by this morning. Thought something was wrong."

"Was I supposed to?"

"Did you forget?" Nathan asked.

I stood silent for a moment, trying to figure out his cryptic hint. "Oh," I said. "I thought…" I came down the stairs two more steps.

We gazed awkwardly at each other for a moment. I really didn't know what to say, as I was merely stalling to think of what I'd forgotten. It looked like Nathan had thrown on the same stuff my brother would wear to a film-and-weightlifting-day-after-the-game football meeting. He had on all the makings of his school colors: red tights under black shorts, a black hoodie - sleeves cut off - over a silver formfitting shirt. I tried desperately to keep my eyes from hanging on his toned legs and arms.

"You thought what?" he asked.

"Huh?" I looked up into his brown eyes.

"You were saying something."

Then it finally dawned on me. "Wait…" I looked him over once more. "Were we supposed to go jogging today?"

"What?" Nathan asked, taking a moment to reflect on what I said. His eyes finally broke from their questioning squint. "No… I didn't come here to…" He chuckled. "I've been out playing football with the guys."

"Oh," I said. "Well you look rather…" I had to drag this out longer. Maybe he would remind me of what I forgot if we kept talking. "Spirited," I finally said.

"Spirit…" Nathan looked down at his own legs. "Oh. Right." He laughed subtly. "They were all sold out of black and silver when I went to get these." He looked up at me and smiled. "Guess I should've gotten my act together a little sooner."

I tilted my head as I looked down at his tights. Now I actually had an excuse to stare at his legs. "I like them," I finally said. "It's like you're a superhero or something."

"I guess…" He gave me a half smile.

"I guess I better get used to it," I said, as I fidgeted with my own attire. "Pretty soon I'll be wearing those colors for four years."

"Now that, I can't wait to see," Nathan said. "Bailey in red tights."

"I… I didn't mean the tights necessarily."

"I knew what you meant," Nathan said. "I think you're trying to change the subject though."

It felt like I stood in silence for an eternity with Nathan simply watching me. As I racked my brain over every conversation we'd had in the past several weeks, I couldn't keep from stealing glances at him. Even though he was dressed like someone going to some underground grunge jock fest, I still found him attractive. My mind did a double take as I realized I just put Nathan and attractive in the same thought. I suddenly became very aware, and very shy, trying to hide my face in any way possible. This was somewhat limited to looking down at his legs, as they bulged in his tights.

I felt his eyes on me, like two spotlights on my ever-reddening face. "I guess you really did forget," he finally said.

I let out a defeated sigh. "Remind me?"

"I'm surprised you forgot," Nathan said. "We were talking about it when I was over here with your brother?"

"I'm sorry," I said, slumping against the wall. "I really don't remember at all."

Nathan's shoulders slumped. "Oh…" He looked completely defeated and disappointed with me forgetting whatever it was I forgot. I had no idea what to say or what to do. "That's okay," he finally muttered.

"Sorry," I said. "I just…" I shrugged. "I don't know what we talked about." I stepped down a few more steps, ready to reach out and consol him. "I'm sorry."

As soon as my hand touched his shoulder, Nathan's lips curled into grin. His hand slipped out from behind his back. I looked down to see a neatly wrapped present; red and silver striped wrapping paper complete with curled streams of red and silver ribbon. My face surely lit up from surprise, and I could feel Nathan was waiting for my reaction. I grew weak in the knees, but managed to come to a seated position on the bottom of the staircase. Nathan lowered himself next to me, helping me hold the gift on the way down.

"You didn't forget anything," he said quietly. "I was just teasing you."

"That is an awful way to give a present," I managed to mutter.

Nathan laughed unabatedly. "Why?"

"You made me feel bad," I said.

"I'm sorry," Nathan said. "But now you feel good right?" He kept watching my face. "I'll never forget the way you looked just now. It was like…" He looked deeply into my eyes. "Like you experienced pure joy."

"You're awful!" I gave him a playful slap on his chest.

Nathan smiled at me. His hand touched mine, as we held the present together. I could feel an immense blush washing over my face. "I hope you like it," he said.

"I…" I pushed the present back into his hands. Quickly I rose to my feet. "I have something for you!"

I passed by the bathroom on my way to my bedroom, and caught my mother in there collecting laundry. I'd noticed her trying to stay busy ever since Tom walked out on her. I just hoped she wasn't overdoing it on her coping mechanism. She gave me a pleasant smile when she saw me at the doorway. I answered her smile with a huff and stepped into the bathroom with her.

"He brought me a present," I said, collapsing against the doorframe like the mere mention of such a thing absolutely exasperated me.

"And that upsets you?" my mother asked.

"What was that you said about Cinderella?" I asked, frowning a bit. "I look awful, and he came over to give me the glass slipper."

"You look fine," my mother said, laughing as she hefted the load of towels in her arms. She then gave me a concerned look. "Besides, Nathan looked like he's been rolling around in the mud."

"He was playing football…" I started to realize my voice had become whiny, as my mother brushed past me. "I don't really have an excuse."

"So… what? You're going to change into a ball gown now?" my mother asked, laughing a bit. "I hardly doubt Nathan cares what you're wearing." She adjusted the laundry and reached up to pat me on my cheek. "He likes you, dear, not your clothes."

I followed her to the laundry room, maintaining my put-upon act. "What if he wants to hang out, or invite me over?" I asked, sighing.

"Well what's wrong with that?" my mother asked, as she started separating the laundry. "It's not like you haven't been over to his house before." She turned to look at me. "But I think you're putting the cart before the horse."

"But he might ask," I said. My mother's attitude wasn't helping this situation. "I just wanted to stay home though… in my room."

"I think you need to get out of your room," my mother said, turning back to the laundry. "You've been moping about for days, and no sense in both of us doing that." She shrugged as she dropped towels into the washing machine. "I'm sure you'll have fun." She continued loading the laundry. "I want you to have fun."

"You're not wanting to get rid of me are you?" I asked.

"Well no. I just think it would be good for you to be with friends," my mother said, pausing for a long moment. "Since you turned down Tawny."

"It was a ballet…"

A sigh escaped my lips as I fell against the doorframe. My mother was notorious for thinking fresh air solved everything. To even suggest otherwise would be insulting to her character. Regardless of this, she didn't understand how I felt about the situation with Tawny. It wasn't the fact that it was Tawny at all. I just didn't feel like dressing up as either gender for anything, so I chose not to go.

"I still say you would have had fun with Tawny," my mother said, "but I understand." She turned to face me. "As for Nathan, I don't think you should keep him waiting."

"You're right," I said. "I need to get his present!" I turned to leave, but my mother called me back.

"Forget something?" she asked.

My mother pointed at a small, folded pile of my clothes near the dryer. I rushed over and collected it all in my arms. Then I hurried to my room and pulled my dresser drawers open. After putting my clothes away, I turned and looked at my room. Thinking it would help my mother out just a little bit, I went over and made my bed. Then I tidied up a bit of my other things, before I remembered Nathan was waiting on me.

A few minutes later I found myself slinking down the stairs once more. I guess at the time I thought I could blend into the scenery somehow. Perhaps I thought he wouldn't see my flaws this way, or how horrible I thought I looked. I wished his smiling face could see right through me, but instead it was focused entirely on me. He glanced at the present in my hand, and for a moment I thought he was trying to guess at its contents.

"I was going to say I lost your present in a horrible accident," I said, "but I decided against it."

"And I'm the mean one?"

Nathan continued to smile as he sat down with me again. It felt odd for us to be so close together; sitting on the stairs, trapped between two walls. Even if I wanted space, the only space to be found was either up or down. I actually wished he would have come up to the living room. He insisted on not dragging his muddy self further into our house. So I sat with him on the stairs, close enough to feel his heat, and nervously handed over his present.

"You first," I said quickly.

I watched him with deliberate consideration. He paused for a moment, seeming to admire the present. Then he ungracefully destroyed the paper, pulling it from the box it encased. I remember about a hundred thoughts racing through my mind at that moment. This was the first present I got for him. It was probably the first Christmas present he'd opened since moving here. I kept thinking he could be scarred for life if this gift didn't live up to his expectations.

"I hope you like it," I muttered, as I reached for his arm. The fabric of his skintight shirt felt smooth, and I could feel his arm flex beneath my hand.

"I'm sure I will."

I felt awkward now. My hand still rested gently on his arm. "Because if you don't," I said, casually pulling my hand away. "I mean you can always exchange it." The awkwardness had leapt to my brain now, filling my head with nonsensical words that would slowly diminish the entire thought of the gift.

"Bailey," Nathan said calmly. I looked in his eyes. "Why don't you open yours?"

That's it! I needed a distraction. Nathan was brilliant; and thoughtful, and understanding, and everything Tom was not. Damn it! Why did Tom have to come up now? I must have stared at Nathan too long, as he gave me one of those looks. It was the one look that asked before his words asked it themselves. I'd grown increasingly used to that look.

"You okay?" Nathan asked.

"Me?" My eyes jumped away to find my present. "I'm fine." Where did I put my present? There it was! Right next to me. "I just…" My eyes found his again. "It's nothing."

Nathan considered me for a moment. I quickly moved to focus on my present before anything else could be said. Luckily Nathan returned to his own present. As I carefully picked apart the wrapping paper, I heard the box top of Nathan's present being removed. I braced myself for the inevitable. My mom and I probably failed at our task to get him the right thing. He'd hate it for sure.

"Cool!" Nathan said. His statement ripped my attention away from my own task. I watched him remove his present from the box. "Bailey, this is great!" He flipped part of the blue and white article of clothing out of the box.

"I knew you liked the Cowboys," I said, watching him run his hand over the blue letters on the back. "And I thought since you played receiver…" I shrugged. "I didn't know who else to get."

"I think it's awesome," Nathan said, flipping the jersey around. "Irvin's a great receiver too." He looked up at me with a smile. "I really like it Bailey. Thank you."

"You're welcome," I said, with my insides about to burst apart.

"I better stop messing with it though," he said, as he put it back in the box. "Don't wanna get it all muddy."

"Aren't football jerseys supposed to get muddy?"

"Not this one!" Nathan said. "I wouldn't even think about wearing this to play in." He paused, clearing his throat. "Why don't you open your gift now?"

"Right," I said. "I was getting to that."

The weight of my present suddenly made me aware. I had been holding it this whole time, and up until now it had felt like a feather. Now it felt like a giant stone. In fact, my whole being felt heavy like a pile of stones. I knew it was all in my head, but I also knew all eyes were on me now. Maybe it was the fact that I had nothing to eat all morning, but I felt a little weak and shaky. It was either that, or Nathan's considerate stare had made me weak inside, and I trembled beneath his gaze.

"Well obviously it's a book," I said, filling up the awkward silence with my nervous shaky voice.

"No surprise there," Nathan said. "I hope you like it."

The wrapping paper slipped away from the cover. It was a rather nice book. One of those books you find in some rich person's personal library. It just had that look to it; leather-bound, with gold-edged pages. Together with the golden embossed oval rising from the brown cover, the whole thing just looked like a precious lost tome. Then I realized the oval represented a mirror.

"A collection of works by Lewis Carroll," I muttered, as my eyes scanned over the cover. I felt the corners of my mouth move into a subtle smile. My hands roamed over the embossed mirror for a moment. Then I carefully flipped the book open and turned a few pages. "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland…" I looked up at Nathan.

"I just figured your life is so serious," he said, studying my face. "You could use a little nonsense."

"I don't know what to say."

"Do you like it?"

"Well of course," I said. "I mean, I've always wanted to read it." I looked back at the book. "Only thing I know about it is from the cartoon."

Nathan chuckled. "It's quite a bit different than that."

"It just looks so expensive," I said, gently touching the pages like they would go to ruin if handled any rougher. "Almost all of my books are paperback."

"Well then you deserve something nice," Nathan said.

I looked up at him. A nervous smile spread across my face. "Thank you," I eventually said. It came in a whisper, and I nearly broke into tears. "I love it."

"I'm glad," Nathan said, still regarding me with a considerate smile.

I closed the book with a gentle thud. "Would you excuse me?"

"Sure," Nathan said, straightening on the stairs. I rushed to gather the spent wrapping paper and my book. "Is everything okay?" he asked.

"I just need to check on something," I said, before stumbling to my feet. "I'll be right back." With that said, I quickly scurried up the stairs.

Tears started to flow the instant I got to the top of the stairs. I pushed myself around the corner, and rested against the wall there. If anything, I hoped I was out of view from Nathan. I had to contain myself; to keep myself from bawling. The tears continued to stream down my cheeks, and I had no reason why they came. What was I crying about? This didn't make any sense. Sure, things had not been going swimmingly lately, but I wasn't having a breakdown. I certainly wasn't getting emotional over a book.

Struggling for a bit to calm myself, I listened to the quiet. Nathan had not followed me up the stairs. Instead, I could hear him casually rustling around with the present I gave him. I started to wipe the tears away, but realized if I moved he would surely hear the wrapping paper in my hands. So I crept down the hallway to my room. Before I reached my door, I could hear my mother's voice. Normally I didn't eavesdrop on her phone calls, but this one seemed to have her upset.

"No!" my mother said loudly. "Absolutely not! I won't have you getting into a pissing match with my twelve-year-old son." Though I wasn't mentioned by name, I felt obligated to hear this conversation. It was about me after all. "If you come over, he won't be here." A slight pause took place in the conversation. "No. I'm not trying to hide him from you Tom. I just think we should talk before I can trust you not to blow up in front of my kids again. No. This has nothing to do with her." Another short bout of silence filled the air. "You can come over, and we'll talk. If I like what you have to say, then I'll let you talk to Bailey. That's the best I can offer."

I listened for a moment longer, frozen in my position next to my bedroom door. The conversation continued for a little while longer. I could only make out part of what was said, and wished I could hear Tom's half of the call. He always seemed to be hiding some mysterious aspect of his past from me. Alarm struck when my mother abruptly ended the call, and I heard her moving for the door. I barely managed to get in my room before I heard her door opening.

I shut my door halfway, and rushed around in a panic to make myself look busy. Thankfully my mother stopped by the laundry room before continuing down the hallway. I took the opportunity to discard the wrapping paper, and attempted to erase the signs that I had been crying. By the time she reached my door, I had managed to make it look like I was finding the perfect place for my new book. She paused for a moment in the hallway, and then came into my room.

"Oh! I thought you were still downstairs."

"I just came up to put this away," I said, presenting the book.

"Did you get that from Nathan?" she said, moving closer. "May I see?"

I offered her the book, and watched her study it. "This is really nice," she said, as she thumbed through a few pages. "Did he like the jersey we got?"

"I think he's afraid to wear it," I said, with a slight giggle. Really? A giggle? I cleared my throat. "He really liked it."

"Well…" She put my book down on the table next to my bed. "I'm not trying to impose, but do you think there's a way to convince Nathan to let you stay over tonight?"

Bells went off in my head; alarms and whistles, and even that stupid tornado siren. What in the world was my mother asking here? "Why?" I asked, surprised to find the alarm now evident in my voice.

"Tom wants to come by tonight," she said. "We need to talk."

"Are you sure you want to be alone with him?"

"I think it's for the best," my mother said. "There are… some issues. Some things we need to resolve."

I knew she meant me. She didn't even have to say it, and I didn't even have to hear it earlier. Still, a night at Nathan's house didn't really seem like the greatest thing at the moment. I'd just had a weird reaction during a gift exchange with him. "You really want me to stay at Nathan's?"

"I trust him," she said. "A lot more than I trust Tom at the moment. You'll be close by too."

"I don't know," I said. "I mean, I can ask him. Are you sure?"

My mother sighed. "Bailey… I don't really have many options here."

"What if he's busy, or can't have anyone over?"

"Well then I'll understand," she said. "It may be a little forward, but I don't think it would hurt to ask him."

"Okay," I said, watching her back out of my room. "I'll ask."

A few moments later, I found myself slinking down the stairs for the third time that morning. Nathan still sat where I'd left him. This felt awkward, and my body was already filled with nervous little flutters. I suddenly wondered if he would catch me if I just fainted down the stairs. He stirred a bit as I grew closer. I didn't know how to even broach the subject.

"Hey," I said quietly.

"I was thinking," Nathan said. "I mean, if it's okay with your mom."

"What?"

"Do you want to come over and hang out?" he asked. "You know. Just you and me?"

"That's so weird," I said.

"Oh…" Nathan looked down. "If it's weird, I understand."

"No," I said. "Not like weird. I mean, not weird that you…" I plopped down next to him. For some reason I wanted to reach out and comfort him now. "I was about to ask if I could come over."

Nathan's head jerked upward. "Really?"

"Tom's coming over," I said. "Him and mom need to talk."

"Ah, I understand," Nathan said. "Well you can stay over there if you need to. It's just mom and I until tomorrow night."

"Really?" I asked. "That would be great!" I suddenly realized how enthusiastic that sounded. "I mean… that would… well it would be great."

Nathan chuckled as he shook his head. "Well I'm going to take a shower when I get home, but I'll leave the front door unlocked," he said. "Come on over whenever. If nobody answers the door, just come in." He rose to his feet with present in hand. "Don't stand out in the cold."

"Okay," I said, watching him move to the door. "Thank you Nathan."

"Sure," he said. "I understand." He reached for the doorknob. "Like I said… I'm there for you. You're always welcome at my house."

I stood to join him at the door. He opened it slowly, and I held it there to let him out. "I'll need a bit to get ready anyway," I said.

Nathan turned to face me again. "Take your time," he said, "and wear whatever's comfortable."

I rushed upstairs after he left. Suddenly I was faced with all of the possibilities of what to wear. It wasn't like I needed to dress to impress. After all, Nathan was just about as laidback as they came. At least when it came to clothing and the like. He never really seemed to care which way my gender dipped either. Good or bad, he never let on that he preferred either side of me. Though secretly I knew he had a soft spot for people with my condition.

Truth be told, I didn't know why I now suddenly referred to it as a condition. If it had been a lifelong pull or desire to identify as another gender, I had missed it completely early on. My leanings and such, as I preferred to call them, pretty much seemed like an awakening. It was a rude awakening, but an awakening nonetheless. I wasn't really sure if it changed who I was, or if I had already been this person deep down inside. Regardless, it was constantly changing little pieces of me at a time. This much I knew for certain.

I had to admit, after the medication changes, and the first few times jogging with Nathan, I felt exhausted. School felt like a chore for an entire two weeks. Then it got to the point where the morning jogging left me feeling energized. Up until that point, I had been sluggish; going through the day like I wanted it to be over. My friends, mainly Tiffany and Tracy, noticed I seemed more upbeat; more than I had been in a long time, or at least since starting Rajan's treatments. Maybe that's why Rajan insisted I get some exercise.

Deep down, a part of me hoped the exercise wouldn't somehow kick start my body into accepting testosterone. I liked the way I looked and felt at the moment. It was comfortable, and I could manage with it. I didn't want there to be some miracle cure, or some way where my body would start working again. Being a bit "broken" made me unique, and it was a uniqueness I happened to like. I think a few other people liked it too. Plus I didn't want Tom to be right in any sense of the word.

"Heeey Wiley Riley!"

The voice of one my brother's football buddies sounded quite loud through my closed window. I stepped over and looked out over the driveway. My brother, Nathan, and two other guys were greeting each other in the typical jock fashion; bro hugs, fist bumps and slaps on the back. I watched for a moment, trying to decipher what was going on. From what I could tell, three of them had been out together all morning.

"I'm just gonna step inside and let my mom know," Justin said, as he walked up the stairs to the front door.

I continued to watch the other two with Nathan. Though Nathan could easily slip into jock mode, I could tell he didn't seem to enjoy it. In fact, he looked to be shying away from it more and more. The heavier set one, complete with a blotchy red face beneath his cap, was doing most of the talking. For the most part, the other guy, a darker skinned and rather fit player, stood near the car they had arrived in.

"We're heading to the bowling alley and then off to Jones' place," the heavy set guy said, gesturing toward the guy by the car. "Why don't you come with us?"

"I got plans with Bailey today," Nathan said.

"What… Justin's brother?" He shook his head. "Just call that off."

"Why would I call it off?" Nathan asked.

"You trying to hook up with that train wreck?"

"Man… that kid ain't right in the head," Jones said.

"Look," Nathan said. "You guys don't know her. Just drop it."

"See!" the heavy set guy said. "Even got you confused on gender. It's Justin's bro, dude, not his sister."

"Justin know you talk about Bailey like that Wilkins?" Nathan asked, looking at the heavy set guy.

"I'm pretty sure Justin thinks exactly how we do," Wilkins said. "He just doesn't say anything about it."

"I think you'd be wrong," Nathan said. "In fact, I'm positive you're wrong."

"Just ditch the little tranny and come with us," Wilkins said.

"Pass," Nathan said.

"Pussy!" Wilkins blurted out. Then he started laughing. "Hey! That's one thing you won't get from him." He continued to laugh, as Jones joined him in a supportive chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Justin said, coming out the front door.

"Nothing," Wilkins said. "Just a little joke at Nathan's expense. Freshman stuff."

"You coming along?" Justin asked Nathan.

Nathan simply shook his head. "Gonna hang with Bailey today."

"Ah…" Justin said. "Well cool then. Have fun with her. Guess I'll see you later."

The second Justin referred to me in the feminine form, Wilkins shook his head. Though Justin didn't see it, as Wilkins was behind him, Nathan did. Justin dropped into the passenger side, as Wilkins fell in behind him. Jones went around to the driver's side; obviously it was his car. Nathan gave them a subtle wave as they backed out of the drive. Then he shook his head as they went their separate ways.

After witnessing that scene, I rushed to get ready. I didn't want to let Nathan be alone to stew in his thoughts for very long. He might change his mind about me. Something his supposed friends said to him may cause him to reevaluate our relationship. As I searched my dresser for undergarments, I paused amidst all of the rushed action. What kind of relationship did Nathan and I even have? Sure, we were friends, but did we share something more than that? His friends seemed to think so for some odd reason.

I shook my head vigorously, my wavy locks of dirty blonde hair slapping against my neck and cheeks. With Tom gone, and with the somewhat tentative threat of bullying at school gone, I had let my hair grow out even longer. It came down past my chin, as it had before summer started. Tiffany loved playing with it. She passively mentioned that she thought it had grown thicker and wavier. I really hadn't noticed a change, but I let her keep that belief; chalking it up to using more conditioner. It took me a moment to shake myself back to reality.

I hurried to pull fresh undergarments on. I had been taking a bit more care of making things look "right" in certain areas. The latest additions to my undergarments helped quite a bit in that regard as well. I mentioned to Megan how I felt more comfortable when I appeared androgynous. After a bit of private discussion with her, she suggested quite a few things that she used to help her appear more feminine. The last step was convincing my mother to purchase those things Megan suggested; which brought up a brief embarrassing moment in my life.

It was nice to have my mother there for such things, though it caused a bit of embarrassment and confusion between us at first. Aside from bullies and Tom, it felt like everyone around me wanted to help me be the me I felt like on the inside. For the time being I relished the helpfulness and security, but I wasn't dumb enough to think it would last. I knew it could all come crashing down tomorrow. Tom could even come back right now and end it. I tried not to think about him as I slipped on a pair black tights.

I honestly just wanted to forget Tom. I wanted to forget he ever existed. Deep down I never wanted to see his face again. Yet, for some strange reason I felt attached to him somehow. It was quite difficult to explain, but I felt like we needed him. Like the house wouldn't survive without an actual man around. I'm sure that's what my mother felt too, and I probably got the idea from her. She would never admit to it. Even though she could be strong-willed and all, she still had a weakness when it came to needing a man.

The more I thought about Tom, the angrier I got. I shoved a pair of lightweight gloves into a knit cap, and tossed the bundle onto my bed next to my winter coat. It infuriated me to think he could control my life in such a way where I felt so useless; where I thought about him even while he was gone. And it made me madder still to think he could make my mother feel that way. I hastily slipped a white t-shirt over my head, and yanked it down over me.

"He is such a bastard," I mumbled to myself, snatching up a pair of jeans.

Though the jeans weren't necessarily girly, I had found a middle road between genders with some things. My wardrobe had changed slightly recently. My everyday panties, would soon become boys briefs; due to gym coming around the corner at school. Before Tom forced me into panties, I'd worn boxers, but now I found a middle ground there as well. I reflected a moment on how Tom enforcing panties soon became a choice to wear them full-time. In fact, I never asked for my boxers back.

As I wiggled into the jeans, I noticed they'd become more snug than the last time I wore them. I figured they'd been in the wash recently, and just felt tight over the extra layer of tights I added. Truth be told, there were two benefits to the tights. One of them was the fact that it was cold outside, and the other was I felt comfortable sleeping in them the last time I was at Nathan's house. I didn't particularly wear them to be or feel more feminine. Little things like that kept me second-guessing myself constantly.

I spent a great deal of time considering my top, and must have flipped through my collection of shirts ten times. The last time I stayed at Nathan's, I ended up wearing one of his to be more comfortable. So now I felt I should get comfort out of the way first, but I also wanted to be warm and look nice too. I finally decided on an oversized red sweater, that was actually for a girl, but could go either way. As I pulled it from the closet, I thought back on my trip with my mother to get it.

We had just started buying things for my other side. My mother had made me laugh at the store when I tried it on. She thought the sweater was way too big because it came down over my hips, and nearly halfway to my knees. I argued that it couldn't be too big, because it fit perfectly everywhere else. It actually took the saleswoman there to convince her the longer body was designed for modesty and comfort. My mother's reaction made me laugh then, but I wasn't laughing now. All I could think about was my argument with Tom. It kept coming back to me.

"Bailey?" My mother's voice came from outside my door as she knocked on it gently.

I quickly whirled around, and sat down with a pair of black ankle boots. "Come in," I said, as I fiddled with the laces to look busy.

"I found a few more of your things in the laundry," my mother said, as she came through my door. She stopped when she saw me. "Hey… I like that outfit on you."

"You were there when I tried most of it on," I said, while slipping my right foot into a boot.

"I know," my mother said. "I just never saw that ensemble together. You really look good in red."

She turned and started putting my things away. I continued to look extremely busy. Somehow I managed to fake being absorbed in an arduous task of putting on boots. I didn't want her to somehow see my anger, or any other emotion that might be strewn across my face. It would just make her think about my pain, and she didn't need that right now. Either she took too long, or I finished tying my boots too quickly, but either way we ended up in an awkward silence and neither of us had anything to do.

"Stand up," she said. "I'd like to get a better look at you."

Apparently I was wrong. My mother had found something to do. Unfortunately it involved her treating me like her dolled up little girl… or boy. At this point, I didn't even know what she thought of me as. All things considered, that really was the least of my worries. She seemed to be one of the few that loved me regardless, and seldom showed a preference for which gender I was supposed to be at any given time. I put the legs of my jeans down to cover my boots and reluctantly rose to my feet.

My mother was soon fawning all over me. "Take some chap stick," she said, as she shoved it into my jeans pocket. "Are you staying the night?"

"He said it was okay," I said, as I tried to escape her fingers relentlessly teasing my hair. "I can come home though."

"I'd prefer you stay," she said. "I don't know how long Tom will be here, and I'd like to know you're safe somewhere."

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine," she said, as she turned away from me. "He'll be here soon though. I think you should get a move on."

"Oh…" I said, as I gathered up my hat and gloves. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

My mother held out my coat for me to slip into. "I want you to behave, but have fun." She fidgeted with my coat. "Take your key with you. Call if you need anything."

"I'll be fine." I looked up into her eyes. "Nathan's a nice guy. He's safe."

"I trust Nathan, but take this as some motherly advice," she said, without missing a beat. "You may not be into boys, as you say, but I swear you've forgotten how they think entirely." She walked over to the doorway before turning to face me. "Nathan just passed up Justin and his friends to spend time with you. I'm just asking that you try to find the reasoning behind that."

I really had nothing to say to that. It felt like something a mother would tell her teenage daughter. Even though my mother had somewhat fallen into the daughter camp when this all started, her advice had always been sound on either side. Maybe I had been stupid in the past, but I did take notice of how boys treated me, especially when it came to my feminine side. Though I stood firm on not liking boys, I really had no idea how to stop them from liking me as a girl.

"Maybe this is a bad idea," I said quietly.

My mother had already moved beyond earshot range. Sure I had doubts, but I didn't want to keep Nathan waiting any longer. I quickly tossed together a few essentials into my school bag, and took one last look in the mirror. Even with my mother's primping, it still looked like I rolled out of bed at the last minute. Still… it was only Nathan. After one last check to see if I had everything, I rushed to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Then I scurried downstairs.

"Bye mom!" I shouted as I closed the front door. I didn't even wait for her to respond. After shoving my hands into my gloves, and slapping my hat on, I began the short walk to Nathan's house.

Tom. Why the hell did I keep thinking about Tom? Was it guilt? I was halfway between my house and Nathan's house when I just started thinking about my stepfather. Clearly I had some unresolved issues, but I wanted so desperately to go a whole day without thinking of that bastard. I just couldn't shake him, or any of our history from my thoughts. It was like he had taken permanent residence in my head.

Maybe I did need to get out. Maybe Nathan could help me forget, at least for a day. I looked up the street at his house. Snow flakes drifted down into my face, catching on my eyelashes, where they clung for dear life before melting away. Up ahead I saw Nathan's mother pulling into their driveway; the bright red Honda being hard to miss. I picked up my pace, figuring it would be best to meet her and go in together. Her car settled in the driveway by the time I came near to her house.

A few moments later, Nathan's mother pulled herself from the car. Though I'd been around her before, she had a sense of style that never ceased to amaze me. She was truly an artist at heart, and it showed in every aspect of her living. Her clothes were loud and vibrant, even for winter wear, and her hair fashioned around flowers and butterflies. To call her a hippie would be distasteful, but a lot of her style did remind me a bit of Karen on The Wonder Years. That is if Karen turned out later to be an elementary art teacher.

"Oh, Bailey, hi!"

"Hi Misses Riley," I said, taking a step closer to her. "Nice to see you again."

"Nice to see you too," she said, looking me over. "You look adorable as ever."

"Thanks." I turned my head slightly, and lifted a hand to the strap of my backpack. She turned her attention away, right before the blush came that I so anxiously wanted to hide.

"Are you here to see Nathan?" she asked.

"I guess in a way. He actually came to see me," I said, looking at the house. "He invited me over."

"Terrific," she said, walking around her car to open the trunk. "I'm glad he didn't run off with his teammates." She looked at me and smiled. "Could you be a sweetheart and help me with a few groceries?"

"Sure!"

"Thank you," Mrs. Riley said, handing me a few of the lighter bags. "You just saved me another trip."

"I'm glad to help," I said.

Soon Mrs. Riley had her arms full as well, and was leading me to the front door. As we walked up the front steps, she kept taking glances back at me. "You look different Bailey," she said.

"I grew my hair out more," I said, shrugging.

"No," she said, as she opened the door to the house. "That's not it."

The house looked as how I had remembered it from my last visit. Apparently I was the only thing that changed. Though I still didn't know what Nathan's mother found so different about me. I looked around the house as I followed her through it. The living room - a bit larger than at my own house - had actually changed, but only with the festive additions of a tree and enough Christmas decorations to raise an elf from the dead. For the most part, the rest of the house seemed unchanged.

As we wandered through the dining room, I noticed it was decorated a bit too. A lovely white tablecloth, embroidered with silver, lay wistfully over the formal dining table. White cloth napkins were neatly rolled and fitted within shiny green and red rings. Fine silverware and candleholders were placed out as if we were expecting dinner guests. The silver chandelier over the table looked polished, and shined like it was made of chrome.

"Your house looks lovely," I said, without even thinking about how girly it sounded. Guys didn't say "lovely" when they complimented interior decoration.

"Thank you dear," Mrs. Riley said, as she started to assess her grocery situation. "I figured I would set up the table early for Christmas Eve dinner." She glanced over at me. "You have any plans for Christmas Eve?"

I followed her into the kitchen, and started to put the bags on the counter. "I got invited to a ballet," I said.

"Well that sounds like fun," she said. "I love the ballet."

"I'm not going," I said. "I just got invited."

"Oh." Mrs. Riley gave me a knowing nod. Then she straightened herself. For a long awkward moment she looked me over as if trying to solve a riddle. "Something about you just seems different." She shook her head gingerly as she continued to look at me. Then her lips broke into a smile. "I can't figure it out."

"I've been told that a lot lately," I said. "If I knew what it was myself, I would tell you."

Mrs. Riley continued to smile at me. "You should give the ballet a try," she finally said. "The Nutcracker Suite is a fun one."

"How did you know which one it was?"

She gave a light laugh, and turned to put groceries away. "That's usually the only one running this time of year."

"Have you seen it?" I asked. I leaned against the counter, but tried to stay clear of where she would be busy.

"Oh, probably too many times, with too many troupes," she said, turning to face me. "I think you'd like it. The music alone is worth it." She turned away to put something in the cabinets. "At least I believe so." She paused, and held a small box against her chest. "You just have to take it all in with an artistic view in mind. Are you able to do that?"

"I think so," I said. "I'm fairly artistic."

"I thought you would be," she said, going back to putting groceries away. "You just strike me as the artistic type."

"Well I try to be," I said. "I'm not that great at it."

"What people consider great art is a matter of great conjecture, dear," she said, turning to face me. "I'd say you probably have a lot of potential buried somewhere inside of you. I bet your inner Bailey is beautiful."

"You hardly know me, Misses Riley," I said, half smiling at her.

"I know quite a bit about you," she said. Then for some strange reason she waved me to her, as if we were secretly convening to plot a jail break. As I stepped closer to her, I noticed her voice getting softer, and she took great strides to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. "I probably shouldn't open my big mouth about this, but I think you should know."

"Know what?" I asked in a tone matching her own.

"Nathan talks quite a bit about you," she said. "At first, I thought you were just a girl down the street, but when Nathan let it slip that you were Justin's brother, I knew right away someone special had entered his life. I don't know how much he's mentioned to you, but I assume you know about the girl back in Pittsburgh?"

"He mentioned her," I said solemnly.

"I think you're the best thing to happen to him since her," she said, producing a genuine caring smile. "Moving wasn't easy for either of us. We had to leave there in such a rush, and it was like they were ripped apart." She looked sad for a brief moment. "You remind us both of her, but he seems to think you have so much more going for you." She touched my hair with her fingertips. "I seem to think so too."

"I had no idea…" I suddenly wanted to back away slowly from this conversation, and her hand playing with my hair.

"Well don't let it change things darling," she said. "I don't want ya'll to be weird around each other." She took a step back. "I just wanted you to know that he holds you in the highest regard, almost like a sister."

"I could never replace Jessie though," I said, biting my lower lip softly.

"Nobody asked you to do that," Mrs. Riley said, with a bit of a laugh. "I just thought you should know how he feels." The shower shut off upstairs, causing us both to take pause. "Perhaps I should have kept things quiet."

"No," I said quietly. "I'm glad you told me. Really I am. I just… I had no idea he even put me in the same league as her."

"Dear…" She looked down at me with her whole face smiling. "You're in a better league than her by far. Trust me." She looked up as Nathan exited the shower. "I need to go back out for a few more errands. Are you staying for dinner?"

"Probably all night," I said.

"I'll get some pizza then," she said. "You like pepperoni?"

I nodded.

"Well I'll be back in a little while," she said, hurrying past me. "Tell Nathan I've gone back out would you?"

"Sure," I said, turning to watch her flee from the dining room. "Could I use your phone?" I asked, causing her to look back at me. "I'd like to call a friend."

"You don't need to ask dear," she said, reaching for the knob on the front door. "Mi casa es su casa."

I watched her leave, and then I picked up the phone from the kitchen counter. As I dialed the numbers, I listened to Nathan shuffling around upstairs. It wouldn't be long before he came downstairs. The phone rang on the other side. A familiar voice answered. I took a deep breath, and spoke into the phone. "Hi Tawny… I changed my mind about the ballet."

---

 
 
To Be Continued...