Things were getting out of control. Jared could see it. The coach could see it. The 1400 souls inside Longwood’ High School’s gym could see it. The five young men on the floor couldn’t, however, and that was all that mattered.

Athens 38, Longwood 16. Athens 40, Longwood 16. Athens 43, Longwood 16. The outcome of the game was never really in doubt, as Athens had played for the state title the year before. But this was absurd. Athens 45, Longwood 16.

Student manager Jared Barnes was decidedly sad for many reasons, he thought as he scribbled another Athens 3 in the scorebook (48-16, Athens). Firstly, he was sad for his friends on the team. Fellow freshmen Dan Smith, the scrappy little point guard, and Nick Wilkins, the power forward, were turning in what was by a decent margin their worst performance of the season.

Secondly, he was sad for himself and the other fans. Little Longwood, Michigan, was a basketball town, this season had been loaded with expectations, and now they were being shattered, first (51-16, Athens) by a mediocre regular season, and now by this final indignity at the hands of an opponent superior in every way.

Thirdly, Jared Barnes was just plain sad. This was beyond basketball, this was beyond even school, there was just a deep, dark sadness within Jared Barnes that it would be nearly impossible to cure (54-16, Athens). This loss by a quintet which he dearly loved only plunged him further into the abyss of depression he was already in.

The onset of this private hell within him had began about a month ago, after school one late January day. As was custom, his sister had ballet practice, and his dad wouldn’t be home for another several hours due to work.

Time for the sports-loving boy to do what any 14-year-old boy would do after school - that is, raid his sister’s closet. Yes, Jared, if it was possible, knew his twin Grace’s closet better then she did. He wondered how in the world she hadn’t found out that every waking hour she was out of the house her brother was tearing up her drawers attempting to find the right pantyhose to match with that majorette outfit.

There wasn’t much time to wonder, as (56-16, Athens) Jared’s dress-up time was limited. He planned nothing special for today - deciding against wearing makeup, Jared ditched his mundane wardrobe for a pink “Longwood Dance” sweatshirt and some yoga pants, and then settled into his own bed, burying himself in one of sister’s fashion magazines.

Hours passed, and Jared felt at home, when suddenly he heard the garage door open - someone was home! Luckily he’d been through this drill ten thousand times. He pulled down his leggings, squirmed out of his sweatshirt and carefully unclipped his bra. He decided to keep the red panties he was wearing, grinning madly as he pulled his boy jeans back on.

Jared looked out the window to see his dad and Grace conversing with a neighbor. Phew, Jared had thought (59-16, Athens). He was safe.

He looked down and gazed at his sister, just for a moment, but in that short timeframe analyzed every bit of her features - and compared them unfavorably with his own. He looked over her breasts, butt, and budding curves, not in a creepy way, but in a way that a sister would compare her own features with another’s. He was suddenly very aware (61-16, Athens) of what he was doing.

It was time for Jared to take - quite literally - a good long look in the mirror. For the first time ever, he recognized that something was wrong. Eyeing his body, he realized his boy clothes just didn’t fit right - for one thing, they were baggy, not tight, and his shoes were dirty and ugly, and...

That was the moment Jared Barnes realized he was living a lie - to himself, his family, his friends, to nature, to Fate, to God, to humanity. He was lying every day he put on gym shorts or baggy jeans rather than yoga pants or a skirt. He was lying (64-16, Athens) when he dressed up for basketball games in a suit and tie and not a dress. He was lying when he went home after school rather than to cheer or ballet or something of that sort, because as much as he enjoyed lying around in sweats, he would rather be jumping around in skirts anyday.

Which is what Longwood’s cheerleaders were doing that day - raucously, even though their squad was now being battered to the tune of 66-16. Jared caught their uniforms out of the corner of his eye, and did a double take. They were just so pleasing to them - something about them, some intangible quality that made him desperate to get hold of one.

A thought popped into his head. He could do it. In fact, he could do it easily. Just 53.5 seconds...

The final was an ungodly 67-21, after a flurry of utterly meaningless points scored by reserves against reserves. A handshake line was followed by modest applause for the Longwood Wildcats, and then, a retreat to the locker room.

Coach Garrison was surprisingly succinct. “Not much you can say about that one,” he opined staring first at his chalkboard and then into space. “I will see you next year. Good afternoon.”

Grumbling, all the players retreated to their lockers, some grumpy, some optimistic, all bewildered by what they’d just witnessed. Strong, silent big man Earl Green just shook his head, trying to comprehend the thing. Dan Smith spoke with the coach, and then joined Jared and Nick Wilkins.

“That was something,” Dan astutely observed.

“Indeed,” Jared responded. “You’ll get ‘em next year.”

“Are you kidding me?” Dan shook his head, half-joking, half-dead serious. “That’s a college team. They should be playing Louisville, not Longwood.”

There was a silence. “You want to go out later?”

“Sorry, Jared. Need a few hours to swallow this crime against humanity,” Dan responded dryly. “See you tomorrow.”

Jared hurried past Nick, whose locker sat at the other end of the room, making for what appeared to be an exit, but what was really an alternate entrance to the locker room’s storage area, a heaven on earth which would contain extra cheer uniforms galore, the excited boy (using the term very loosely) calculated.

A silent slithering to the back of the locker room, a few odds and ends rearranged, an old door opened, and bam! Jared Barnes was in the little-used storage room, which he’d seen entered by another human a grand total of once, when the cheer coach needed somewhere to put surplus uniforms.

She probably hadn’t accounted for girly-gurls who may pass through, Jared chuckled to himself, as he pulled on the light in an extra-careful manner. He even had a mirror to pimp into! It was like his own little fitting room, with a horrid smell added on. Jared couldn’t help but wish a little perfume were present to alleviate the stench.

Jared stripped to his underwear, revealing his clean-shaven legs, something he’d worked hard for. While most boys his age saw leg hair as validation of manhood, he saw it as an invalidation of his natural girlhood, and worked hard to get rid of it. The legs were shiny and white and would have fit right in the cheer squad. The lump between wouldn’t have, however, and Jared actively worked to conceal it.

Five minutes later these minor impediments were distant memories, as Jared stood mesmerized at his reflection in the mirror. He probably could pass for a cheerleader without makeup, if he just combed his hair a bit, as the skirt and top fit his figure perfectly.

There was a pair of pom-poms right next to the box where he’d found the outfit. Jared picked up the pom-poms and cocked his hip, mimicking an ultra-girly pose he’d seen some of the squad members strike before the game. It was perfect. Jared was perfect.

Footsteps sounded loudly in the room bordering the storage area. Jared had not five seconds to react before the door was thrown open. Earl Green, all 6’6” of him, stood silently beholding 5’7” skinny cheerleader Jared Barnes, a boy wearing a skirt, a headband, and an apple-red facial expression.

Jared opened his mouth but no words escaped. Earl tried to speak and found the same problem.

Suddenly, more furious footsteps. Instinctively, Jared hid, shielding himself behind a cabinet. He took in the exchange of two voices, all the while breathing heavily, knowing his fate could be hanging in the balance.

“Earl, what are you doing?” A familiar voice.

“Uh-Nothing. Just saw this door open, figured I should close it.”

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost!” Dan exclaimed. “Is someone in there?”

“Certainly not!” It was the loudest he’d ever heard Earl talk. “What is this, an interrogation? ‘Sides, don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“I suppose,” Dan responded. “Close the door on the way out, by the way. It stinks in here.”

“Got it.” Earl went to shut the door, but not without uttering seven life-changing words.

“Give me ten minutes. I’ll be back.”

He wanted to run right then, or die. One of the two. Anything to get away from this wretched place, where he was doomed to have his most precious secret revealed to the whole world.

He heard the door click and more footsteps, this time markedly softer. He saw Earl’s large frame against the storage room door, and heard a sound from that frame, the sweet sound of a friend who cared.

“Jared, come out and talk to me.”

He obliged, and Earl implored him to sit with him on the ground. Still silent, Jared was further quieted - if it were possible - by Earl’s next words.

“You look pretty.”

Pause as Jared took in the fact that his good friend Earl Green (a senior boy! What would Grace think?) had called him pretty. He had seen on the internet many a crossdresser, and had seen them be referred to as “sexy” and “beautiful.” But to be called that authentically, to his face - it meant the world to Jared. He snickered a little. “Thanks,” he added demurely.

Suddenly he was businesslike. “Well, that proves it ain’t your first time,” he declared. “If you’d have just been fooling around you’d have shot back with something smart, probably.”

The senior squatted down to face a gurl brimming with embarrassment. A short Q-and-A session ensued. “How long have you been doing this?”

“My whole life.”

“Anyone ever know?”

“Not a soul.”

“You identify as a girl?”

“Yes and no,” Jared shrugged. Earl was impressed with his answers but pressed him further.

“Look in the mirror. Are you a boy or girl?”

One look in the mirror yielded a firm answer: “A girl.”

“Just as I thought.” Earl was either the greatest detective or greatest psychologist in the world, or both. He was ten steps ahead of Jared at any time. Jared knew he was at the brainy big man’s mercy.

Earl did too. He launched into a monologue.

“I could easily leave this room and tell the whole world what I saw in here,” he announced. Jared was frightened.

He stopped pacing and spat. “But I won’t. Cause that’s wrong.”

Jared cut him off. “I owe you something. Anything.”

Earl held up a hand. “I’m about to tell you.” More silence, of the deafening variety.

“Do this for me,” Earl sighed. “Stop lying to yourself. I can’t stand liars, and you might be the worst kind, because you lie, to yourself and everyone else, by your very existence.

“I think we both know you are unhappy as a boy. Then don’t be one. You’re a natural girl. I have five sisters and none of them swish their butts as much as you did walking over here to talk to me. Go all the way, Jared Barnes.”

Earl abruptly left. Jared had a lot to think about, not the least of which was putting his boys’ clothes back on.

Jared tracked down Nick Wilkins for a ride home and immediately flopped on his bed. His sister was out of the house, practicing for a recital at a friend’s. His father was out of town, on business.

One look at the clock revealed the time to be a half hour until his sister would be home. As he pondered Earl’s words, one thought ricocheted through his skull like a broken record.

“Stop lying to yourself. Stop lying to yourself. Stop lying to yourself. Stop lying to yourself.”

“Stop lying to yourself!” Jared said the words out loud, and began repeating them, almost chanting them, some moments at a whisper, some at a near yell, over, and over.

All the while he riffled through his sister’s closet, finding a heavily padded bra, matching panties, seeking just the right outfit, finally settling on a “Love Pink” t-shirt, a pair of yoga pants, and his sister’s Ugg boots. Not terribly girly, but in no way confusable with boys clothes, especially not with his padding. He applied some makeup but decided not to fix his hair, leaving it as is except for a headband.

He sat on the steps anxiously, and seconds became minutes, minutes multiplied, until finally, his sister threw the door open and beheld her brother.

A lying boy had been replaced by a supremely honest, sweet girl. The insincere story of Jared had ended, and now a new, real, sparkly pink story could begin.

This is the tale of how Kayleigh Marie Barnes went all the way.