One boy is about to learn that he has already passed such an event, and nothing will ever be quite the same…

Xenia chose the vegetarian lasagna once again while Brenda walked beside her, parallel to the lunch line. The girls’ coach preferred to bring a bag lunch instead of sampling the cafeteria’s cuisine of variable quality.

“Could you find us a table where we can be sure to get Seph’s attention when she comes in?” Xenia asked her friend and colleague. “I’ll be a moment or two longer getting my lunch.”

“Sure, Xee,” the coach agreed. “The near corner booth is open.”

Janice Lansing entered the school’s galley and, exercising her privilege of rank, bypassed the queue and came up behind Dr. Van de Meer. “You’re having the veggie lasagna again?”

“Well, Seph, it seems like that’s the only thing on the menu they’re able to cook right consistently.”

“You’ve made your point, Xee,” Dr. Lansing conceded with a chuckle as she indicated the veggie lasagna to Mrs. Brown, the food service worker. “Now, you and Brenda still want me to join you for lunch?”

“Yes,” admitted the counselor, handing the cashier her school lunch smartcard. “We have a solution to a problem that arose after what happened to Abby Abernathy Friday night, but we anticipate that you may need to consider policy before we try it.”

“Abby Abernathy?” Dr. Lansing asked as she accepted the lunch tray from the food service worker. “I’ve seen the name today…”

“She was the cheerleader injured on the sidelines when a pass play went out of bounds,” explained Xenia as they began walking towards the booth where Coach San-Giacomo awaited them.

“There was a memo on my desk about that when I arrived this morning,” acknowledged the principal. “I would need to discuss it with Brenda and you, anyway.”

Janice and Xenia sat down at the booth across the table from Brenda. “Good morning, Seph,” the coach greeted her principal. “I’m glad you can join us. But this will be a bit of a working lunch, I’m afraid,” Brenda added pulling a manila file folder from her tote bag. “This is my initial report on the accident that happened to Abby Abernathy at the Homecoming game Friday night.”

Dr. Lansing glanced quickly at the report, then remarked, “Her wounds are quite serious, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they are,” confirmed Brenda. “She’s looking at two to three months of convalescence and physical therapy.”

“And that means we need to work out a plan so that she won’t have to be held back a year due to minimum attendance rules,” explained Dr. Van de Meer. “Abby’s a bright young woman and I don’t want her treated like she were just another truant. So I’ll be requesting tutors for her and permission for her to study off-campus. We can use some of our new technology for that, too.”

“She also wasn’t the only casualty,” added Brenda. “Kelly Harrigan’s wrist was broken trying to prevent the injury to Abby. That might affect her studies some, although I think she’ll manage alright.”

“But that’s not even the issue that we need your input for,” warned Xenia. “More novel consequences of this have arisen.”

“Oh?” Dr. Lansing wondered. “Even a worse shipwreck than what you’ve told me so far?”

“Abby is definitely out for the rest of the season and likely the remainder of the year,” noted Brenda. “And Kelly will be limited in her activities for a few weeks as well. With one of my Junior Varsity girls out and another one not up to full readiness, I have to change something. The choice is between reworking much of our choreography and gymnastics or recruiting another cheerleader to substitute for Abby and bringing her up to speed.”

“That makes sense so far,” observed the principal. “Although I’d imagine finding a new cheerleader should be the easier solution.”

“And so I thought,” continued Brenda. “But when we did a database search to find a suitable candidate for a new cheerleader, we couldn’t find any girls who met all the search parameters.”

“None at all?” asked Janice.

“We used the regular criteria for eligibility,” recounted Brenda. “They had to meet minimum academic requirements of grade-point average and course load, meet a physical fitness profile, have a recent letter of medical approval on file, and be available to enroll in Cheerleading One. That one excluded most of the candidates because this late in the term, you’d only allow a student to switch a study hall or another physical education course for it.”

“That’s right. The semester is too far along for any but the simplest course changes,” acknowledged the principal. Brenda’s tone had suggested additional details, though, so Dr. Lansing asked, “What else?”

“We only had a few candidates still eligible at that point,” the coach continued. “But Kelly, who’d been doing the database search for me, considered something I hadn’t. She noticed that records in the student database included a field showing an intent to participate in sports or other activities.”

“What did that tell you?” probed the principal further.

“Not so many girls want to be cheerleaders anymore,” Xenia injected into the discussion.

“That’s right,” added Brenda. “An athletic girl has many more options now than even a few years ago. Girls who’d’ve been good cheerleaders are competing in other sports now. That’s good for girls in general, but not so great for the cheer team. I told Kelly that it’s getting harder to recruit good cheerleaders than it used to be sometimes.”

“I do remember cheerleading being a lot of work and then waking up the next morning with sore muscles,” recalled Janice. “But I was so proud of making the squad.”

“Seph! You never told me you were a cheerleader,” exclaimed Brenda.

“Well, you never asked!” Janice retorted. “So then, who was still available after looking at other sports?”

“No one, really,” lamented the wistful coach. “So Kelly and I called up the girls who’d signed intent forms, hoping to convince someone to try cheerleading instead, but no one wanted to. Those girls really have their hearts set on other things.”

“So then you’ll have to trim your sails and rework your gymnastics and choreography,” said Dr. Lansing. She stated it as a conclusion rather than a question.

“Well, the story’s not quite over, yet,” Dr. Van de Meer continued. “One of Kelly’s queries did mistakenly yield the name of an otherwise eligible student.”

Janice raised a quizzical eyebrow, asking, “Mistakenly?”

“Kelly omitted one of the more obvious criteria from one search,” the coach explained as the principal sipped her diet cola. “The search returned a boy.”

Suddenly, a spray of diet cola spewed from the lips of Dr. Lansing sputtering into laughter. Xenia and Janice both produced napkins and paper towels as Brenda bolted from her seat in an unsuccessful attempt to dodge the spit-take. The cola had soaked the coach’s sweatshirt and dribbled down the front of the principal’s blouse. Xenia was fortunate not to have been in the line of fire.

“Now I believe you were a cheerleader!” Brenda cried, laughing along with her colleagues at one another and herself.

Jeff and Mark waved at Brandon from a booth in the corner across from where Miss San-Giacomo, Dr. Van de Meer, and Dr. Lansing were still at lunch. But Brandon simply pointed to the lunch line to signal his usual intention of buying his lunch from the school’s food service. As he approached the glass case, he examined the choices of the day.

“What would you like, young man?” Mrs. Brown asked.

“I think I’ll have the fettuccine Alfredo primavera.”

“Not the veggie lasagna?”

“Well, I don’t want to eat the same thing every day, ma’am.”

“I understand,” said Mrs. Brown, smiling as she handed a tray of the fettuccine to Brandon. “I wouldn’t want that, either. Enjoy!”

He accepted the lunch tray from Mrs. Brown and continued along in the line, also taking a dinner roll with butter, an apple compote, and a cola. He simply handed his smartcard to the cashier who deducted the lunch from his balance. She winked at him then rang up the next customer’s lunch.

“That was a little strange,” observed Brandon as he set his lunch tray on the table across from his buddies.

“What?” Jeff asked.

“The cashier winked at me.”

“She’s got it bad for Brandon!” Mark teased.

“A little old for me, don’t-cha think?”

“Ya got a cougar chasing you, huh?” Jeff added to their banter.

“Maybe, but I like my Asian Tiger better,” retorted Brandon.

“So where is the China Babe?” Jeff continued.

“In the Ladies’ Room.”

“Melinda went in with your sister,” reported Mark. “They’ll prob’ly meet up with Jenny in there.”

“Yeah, do either of you know why girls go to the restroom together?” Jeff inquired. “I’ve never understood that.”

“Don’t look at me!” Brandon pled to his friends.

“Well, you do have a sister,” Jeff reminded him.

“Yeah, but would you listen to yourself?” Brandon objected. “It’s not like we go to the bathroom together—ew!”

Mark couldn’t help but laugh at his friends’ exchange. “Jeff, that would make Brandon even weirder than you.” Jeff replied by taking his baseball cap off and hitting Mark over the head with it.

“And here comes our gleesome threesome now,” announced Brandon as Jenny, Sheila, and Melinda walked into the cafeteria. Sheila broke formation to join the end of the lunch queue while the other two girls continued towards the boys’ corner booth.

“Hi, guys!” Jenny greeted them and sat down next to Brandon, and Melinda, beside Mark. They both quickly stole kisses from their respective boyfriends’ lips, risking that faculty or staff might witness their public displays of affection.

“Sheila will join us in a moment,” said Melinda, addressing Brandon directly.

“Kelly is coming along, too,” added Jenny. “She said she’d ask Alice as well, since you trust her judgment.”

“I do,” agreed Brandon, “but do we have enough space at the table? That’ll be eight of us.”

“They can put a small table at the end if needed,” suggested Jeff. “Or even just chairs if no one hogs the table. Why so many, anyway?”

“I wanna discuss something before I make a decision,” revealed Brandon.

“With this many people?” Jeff remarked. “We’re gonna need a conference table somewhere.”

Mark suddenly swiped Jeff’s baseball cap and hit him over the head with it. Jeff grabbed it back from him. “Wear your own next time!” Jeff whined.

“So what’s the big deal, anyway?” Mark directed his question to Brandon.

“Let’s wait until everyone’s here,” replied Brandon. “That way, I only have to explain it all once.”

Mark looked at Jenny. “D’you know?”

“Yes,” she answered, “But it’s for Brandon to tell—not me.”

“Well, from what Sheila told me, I can guess,” added Melinda, looking at Brandon. “You wanna dress like a cheerleader for the Hallowe’en dance?”

“Uh—no!” Brandon denied, grinning. “Good guess, though!”

Melinda glared at him with a wry frown, raising an eyebrow. Brandon sputtered into laughter at her grimace. “It really was a good guess,” Jenny assured her. “But it’s still not quite on the money. Besides, since your boyfriend is going as a Goth princess, it wouldn’t be such a big deal if Brandon went as a cheerleader.”

“Actually, I might,” raised Brandon as a possibility. “But again, that’s not what I wanted to talk about right now.”

“So what is?” Jeff inquired in turn.

Brandon just grinned as Jenny retrieved her beeping smartphone from her purse. She noticed a text message from her mother waiting and smiled, dancing a little bourrée right at her seat. “Brandon, Mom wants to know if five-thirty would be a good time for dinner Wednesday evening?”

“That’s fine.”

“Yes!” Jenny squealed an almost ear-splitting, shrill tone, resuming her toedance right at her seat. Immediately, she texted Brandon’s confirmation of the time back to her mother, then delivered him a quick kiss. He just smiled.

“Brandon’s really hiding, like, something big,” accused Melinda playfully. “And with a smile like he’s showing, it’s gotta be terribly naughty!”

“Here come Kelly and Alice,” noted Brandon. The two girls stopped to put their purses and bag lunches on a small, square table and pushed it flush with the end of the larger one in the booth. Then they pulled chairs over to it for themselves and sat down.

“Hi, everyone!” Kelly greeted the group. “Have you heard what happened to Billy Danziger this morning?”

“What?” Melinda asked.

“Alice, you start with how he showed up in homeroom,” Kelly deferred to her friend. “I had, like, already left. You actually saw everything that happened.”

“Yes,” affirmed Alice. “This is not gossip. I was there. Anyway, Billy came in drag today.”

“What?” Melinda squealed.

“Billy showed up dressed as a girl,” reiterated Alice. “Mister Markham had challenged him, like, to make up for not participating on Gender-Bender Day. Apparently, Billy took him up on it.”

“But that was just the beginning,” interjected Kelly. “Tell what happened just before second period!”

“Well, I went into the Ladies’ Room across from the Main Office,” Alice continued recounting, “and ‘Billie’ was in there cleaning a little brass marijuana pipe.”

“A marijuana pipe?” Jeff asked incredulously.

“Uh-huh! A little brass one,” Alice confirmed. “It was as cute as he was!” The other girls all giggled at that remark as she continued, “Then after he came out of the Ladies’ Room, I warned him he wasn’t wearing his student’s badge as Principal Lansing was coming out of the office. So he went, like, looking for his badge, first in his backpack, then set it down before looking in his purse where he’d put it for today.

“Well, he’d just got it on when Doctor Lansing came our way to chat. She must’ve thought he was a girl, at first, anyway, but she got on his—her case about forgetting her—his badge. Then she asked about Billy’s older sister. Then just as Doctor Lansing was about to leave, he caught his heel in a strap of his backpack and tripped, dumping everything in his purse?—that doesn’t sound right—her purse?—the purse on the floor. The principal saw the marijuana pipe and picked it up and told Billie to get to her office right then. And that’s what I heard and saw, myself.”

“Hello, everyone!” Sheila greeted as she approached the group with her lunch tray. “Sorry to make you wait, but the lunch line was, like, so long.”

“That’s okay, Sis,” Brandon absolved her. “Alice was just regaling us with her tale of what happened to Billy Danziger this morning.”

“Oh?” Sheila expressed her surprise as she put her tray down on the small table next between Kelly and Alice.

“This morning, he came to school in drag, like, to make up for Gender-Bender Day, and then he tripped and a marijuana pipe fell out of his purse in front of Principal Lansing,” Kelly summarized. “Alice witnessed all that. But now, the rumor is, like, the principal gave him a choice between getting expelled or dressing like a girl for the rest of the semester!”

“Omigosh!” Melinda squealed. “You’ve gotta be kidding!”

“That’s what I heard!” Kelly insisted her giggles maturing into full laughter with the other girls following suit. Jeff and Mark looked at each other and guffawed. Brandon just relaxed with a sigh. His problem would be just a little less embarrassing and perhaps he wouldn’t be alone if he consented to join the cheerleading team.

“Alright,” Brandon addressed the group. “Sheila’s here, so it’s time to tell you what I hafta think about.”

“Lemme guess, Bro,” said Sheila. “From your text message, I’d say you wanna wear my old cheerleader uniform for Hallowe’en?”

“No,” said Melinda. “That was like our first guess.”

“What is it, then?” Mark followed up.

“It’s—It’s—uh—,” Brandon hesitantly stammered. “Kelly, maybe it’ll be more believable if you tell it.” He looked at her, his face almost pleading. She simply nodded.

“Okay, everyone,” Kelly addressed them. “To put it simply, we want Brandon—or rather ‘Brandi’—to join the cheerleading team. Coach Brenda, like, asked him this morning.”

“Is that where you two went during homeroom?” Alice wondered.

“Yeah,” answered Brandon. “We discussed it in Doctor Van de Meer’s office.”

“The immediately obvious questions are why you?” Jeff inquired. “And does that mean you’ve gotta dress like a girl to do it?”

Kelly fielded the questions for her friend. “We did a database search to find someone to stand in for Double Abby. None of the eligible girls who were named wanted to. They’re all going out for other sports. By mistake, I forgot to limit one search for gender. Brandon’s name came back in that one. Since we both took gymnastics lessons from the same coach, I knew, like, he could do it and suggested him to Coach Brenda. And yes, he, like, has to wear the same uniform—.”

“But he’ll be so cute in it!” Jenny broke in. The girls giggled at that.

“That’s just crazy!” Jeff opined. You can’t seriously be thinking about it?”

“Yeah!” Mark agreed. “Gender-Bender Day was bad enough. This is even crazier!”

“Well, maybe it won’t be so bad with Bill around,” mused Brandon. “At least I won’t be like the only one, now.” He felt Jenny’s hand squeeze his.

“But are you, like, really gonna do it?” Jeff pressed his buddy for an answer.

“I’m not sure,” admitted Brandon. “They really seem to need me, so I’m thinking about it. Still, it does sound crazy, though.”

“Brandon, we wouldn’t’ve asked you if we didn’t need you or if we didn’t think you could, like, do it,” Kelly reminded him. “I never thought you knew, like, just how good a gymnast you were—and still are. You really oughtta give it a go.”

“Oh! I’m not thinking so much about the gymnastics,” he assured her. “But if I really gotta show up dressed as a girl two or three times a week, I’m not so sure I can handle that. I mean, I did it once and look at how it turned out—I spent half the weekend in the hospital!”

“Well, I think you’re better than that,” insisted Kelly. “Your talents and your spirit are needed.”

“She’s right, sweetheart,” affirmed Jenny. “You’d be doing this for the school’s benefit, just like you did for Gender-Bender Day. It’d only be more often.”

“You didn’t have any problem while you were doing it,” Sheila reminded her brother. “It wasn’t until the next day you had any misgivings about it.”

“And those misgivings grew into nightmares,” he reminded her. “You had to call for the ambulance.”

“But it was, like, alright when we got you there,” his sister continued to argue.

“Brandon, you can handle it,” Jenny assured him, squeezing his hand again. “I have faith in you. Let others have a chance to rely on you, too.”

He relaxed a little more. Jenny’s support helped to reassure him. But was she supporting him just as any girl would stand with a boyfriend, or was her view objective as well?

Alice had been watching and listening to the discussion but hadn’t offered an opinion. “Kelly, is this more of trying to turn Brandon into a girl, like on Thursday? We agreed to leave that alone.”

“No. No, it’s not!” Kelly defended what she had done. “I was just as surprised as Coach Brenda when the computer search gave me his name. It only happened because I made, like, a mistake setting up one of the queries.”

“Well, a few days ago, you were saying Brandon’s transgendered,” Alice reminded her.

“No, I’m not transgendered,” denied Brandon. He wasn’t sure of how much he wanted to reveal, but these were friends gathered around him. “But I am androgynous. Dr. Van de Meer had me read about androgyny. Then at the hospital, they gave me a test for it and I scored right in the middle—perfectly androgynous.”

“Is that like unisex?” Mark asked.

“Well, it’s more like both sexes,” Brandon tried to explain. “According to the test, I should be comfortable in both traditional masculine and feminine roles almost equally.”

“That’s weird!” Jeff remarked. “Really weird!”

“No more than when you’re playing baseball,” argued Brandon. “You throw left-handed but you’re a strong switch-hitter. And Mark throws right but always bats left. Yet most players can only bat and throw with the same hand. But everyone catches with the hand opposite their throwing hand.”

“So you’re saying androgynous is like switch-hitting?” Mark asked his buddy to clarify.

“Pretty much,” affirmed Brandon. “And how many things do we all have to do two-handed?”

“I never thought about that,” conceded Jeff.

“And who decides what roles are masculine or feminine, anyway?” Melinda added to the discussion.

“Exactly!” Brandon agreed with her. “Did I mention the test was for traditional gender roles?”

“Yes, you did,” confirmed Alice.

“So does that mean you’d be comfortable as a cheerleader?” Kelly asked.

“Well, that would be consistent with the test results,” replied Brandon.

“Can’t you ever answer, like, just yes or no?” Kelly complained rolling her eyes.

“No!” Brandon quipped. Everyone but Kelly laughed at his humorous twist of logic. “Seriously, though,” he continued, “I don’t think I’d have much difficulty cheerleading if it weren’t for the likely problems of teasing and bullying. After all, it’s not thought of as a masculine role.”

“But according to that test, you’re, like, supposed to be comfortable in feminine roles,” Melinda reminded him.

“I am,” affirmed Brandon, “but that’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?” Kelly asked.

“Other guys won’t be comfortable with him in a feminine role,” Alice observed. “And they’ll prob’ly be vocal about it.”

“Bingo!” Brandon exclaimed. “And that’s one reason not to do it.”

“Seriously, sweetheart?” Jenny looked him in the eye.

“Yeah,” he said to her. “Bullies don’t need so much a reason to inflict violence as an excuse. It’s like their default mode.

“Then maybe this really is a bad idea,” concluded Jeff. “If you’re gonna make yourself even more of a target to bullies, I don’t think it’s worth the risk.”

“The cheerleaders need me, though,” Brandon reasserted.

“But how bad do they need you?” Jeff asked. “Why can’t the cheer team get along with one less cheerleader?”

“Jeff, it’s not so simple as you’re making it out to be!” Kelly retorted. “While I can still do some cheering and dancing, I won’t be doing, like, any gymnastics until my wrist heals, so for those kinds of things, the cheer team is down by two of us. If we can’t get a substitute for one of us, then we have only a very short time to revise our choreography and gymnastics. That’s especially hard to do, like, this late in the season and we’d have safety issues as well. It’s a lot easier to bring in, like, a new girl and get her ready to rhumba.”

“But Brandon’s not exactly a girl,” Mark reminded Kelly.

“No, he’s not,” she conceded. “Still, he showed us he can pull it off really well.”

“That was such a mistake!” Brandon whinged. “I should never have worn that dress!”

“But Brandon,” said Sheila. You really looked good in it.”

“Please, Sis,” he sighed. “Don’t remind me!”

“So Billy’s mother was alright with his punishment?” Xenia inquired.

“Well, she agreed it was a better choice than expelling or suspending him long-term,” replied Janice. “And from her tone of voice, she might have some fun helping him comply.” She took another bite of the lasagna.

“I’m in agreement with you and Xee, though,” said Brenda. “These ‘zero-tolerance’ policies are essentially the same as zero-thought.’”

“Or ‘zero-hassle’ for certain school-board administrators,” observed Xenia. “If they can treat everyone as guilty, then they don’t need to bother investigating anything.”

“And they can assign the same penalty to everyone without having to think of fairness,” added Brenda. “But I think you did well to consider an alternative punishment for Billy—and a creative one at that. He might really learn a few things from it.”

“That’s the idea,” remarked Janice. “Besides, I couldn’t ignore how he was dressed this morning. He gave me the idea for it himself—and I can always argue that it’s an appropriate penalty for entering the Ladies’ Room without permission.”

“Anyway, you don’t seem to have any categorical objection to boys dressing as girls,” concluded Xenia.

“No, I guess not,” confirmed Janice. “So are we back to the issue of letting Brandon MacDonald join the Junior Varsity cheerleading squad?”

“We do need an answer from you, Seph,” said Brenda. “I want to be able to act immediately when we get a decision from Brandon. And if you can’t allow it, then I need to start revising the choreography and gymnastics for my Jay-Vee girls today.”

“I think that I should talk to Brandon myself before giving you either a yes or no on this,” the principal decreed, withholding her final decision until she had interviewed the boy. “But I will lay down one instruction right now. Whatever course he plots, you will both accept it and not try to change his mind. This sounds like a very difficult decision for a boy to make and I want it respected.”

Xenia nodded to her boss. “I’ve already promised Brandon that I’d support whatever he decides to do.”

Dr. Lansing looked at the coach. “Seph, I’ve explained it to him as best I can and I’ve asked him to come to the Cheerleading One class today. Seeing how the cheer team works day-to-day should help him make a better informed choice, whatever it is. I’ve already accepted that he might refuse. I’m just happy he’s willing to consider it, although I don’t think he’ll really do it.”

“You don’t?” Xenia asked in surprise.

“No, Xee, I don’t,” confessed Brenda, sighing. “I hope I’m wrong, but I think he and Kelly have too much negative history between them. And we know he’ll take a lot of teasing from his classmates if he goes along with this.”

“He did ask for time to think it over, though,” Xenia reminded her.

“Yes, but you also said that he’d made his decision before he left,” recalled the coach. “He only asked for the time so he could let Kelly and the rest of us down gently. He came across to me as a very sensitive boy.”

“But I think he’ll do it!” Xenia said, contradicting her colleague.

“So how do you reach that conclusion, Xee?” Dr. Lansing asked.

“Although I did say that Brandon had likely decided before he’d left the room,” explained Dr. Van de Meer, “I also thought that he needed to take time not to appear too eager to do something that normally is in our girls’ domain. I think that he really wants to do it but is more afraid of appearances than anything else.”

Dr. Lansing mused for a moment then wondered, “Have either of you considered a third alternative?”

“What’s that?” Brenda asked.

“Well, maybe he’s not decided yet and he really needs to think about it?” Janice answered. “Too often we let our own mind games get in the way of our better judgment. Brenda, I think you’re just too pessimistic about the outcome and are trying to steel yourself against it. Xee, you’ve worked with the boy to assess his interests and abilities before scheduling his classes, but do you really know him that well?”

“I did have a long talk with him Thursday morning,” reported Xenia. “I tried to emphasize to him the importance of making his own decisions and being secure doing it.”

“Why?” Dr. Lansing asked.

“Classmates were trying to push him where he might not wish to go,” replied the counselor. “And when Brenda asked him this morning to join the cheer squad, I reminded him of our previous discussion. That was also when I promised to support his decision.”

“So then you had talked with him about decision-making before Abby’s accident?” Brenda asked Xenia to clarify.

“Yes, I had.”

“So, he seems to have taken your advice to heart,” acknowledged Dr. Lansing, opening her agenda. “And that makes the stipulation I laid down all that more important. We must let the boy’s decision stand.” She made a notation in the margin of the day’s page to call Brandon MacDonald into her office.

Jeff and Mark huddled with Brandon while the girls all made a beeline for the Ladies’ Room.

“So buddy, are you really gonna do it?” Jeff pressed Brandon for an answer yet again. “I mean, you’d be dressing like a girl at least once a week, and prob’ly more than that.”

“Jeff, it’s just clothing,” he tried to reassure his two best friends. “Pieces of textiles cut out and sewn together into strange shapes—now just a little stranger than usual.”

“But it’s all so weird!” Jeff insisted. “I mean, getting dressed up, like for Gender-Bender Day or Hallowe’en is one thing, but this seems like so much more.”

“Look, Jeff,” Mark jumped into the discussion. “We both wore skirts when Brandon dressed up and we’re still who we are. And he’ll still be who he is. He wouldn’t even be thinking about it if any girls had volunteered.”

“This is true,” Brandon agreed with Mark. “If you remember what Kelly said, my name only showed up in the search by mistake.”

“I know,” acknowledged Jeff. “But I’m afraid it’ll all be one big mistake if you do.”

“Jeff! Listen!” Brandon quietly hushed his friend. “It’ll be alright! No matter what I decide to do, we’ll still be friends, won’t we?”

“Yeah, but—,” began Jeff.

“No but’s, Jeff!” insisted Brandon. You, me, Mark—we’ve been together since we were how old?”

“We were toddlers, I think,” recalled Mark. “I can’t remember ever not knowing both you guys.”

“So, we’re all friends, then,” Brandon reminded them. “We don’t always agree on everything. But has that ever stopped us from being friends?”

“No, guess not,” confirmed Jeff.

“So, don’t worry about it,” Brandon tried to assure his friends. “Nothing too bad can happen.”

About then, Brandon and Mark saw their respective girlfriends coming from the Ladies’ Room. Melinda took Mark by the hand and Jeff by the elbow to direct them toward their classes.

Jenny and Brandon started down the hall, hand in hand, toward their French class, but his sister quickly caught up with them.

“Wait, Li’l Bro!” Sheila gently took her brother by the wrist. Then she told him, sotto voce, “I wanna talk to you about this alone. When we get home, you need to try on my old uniform. I have my own selfish reasons for wanting you to become a cheerleader, but it’s only fair to warn you about the down side of joining the team. You need to know about it, too, before deciding. Okay?”

“Okay, Sis!” Brandon agreed. “But Jenny and I gotta get to French class now.”

The siblings went on their respective ways. “What was that about?” Jenny asked as she and Brandon started to class.

“Sis wants to have a private talk about cheerleading with me,” he said, continuing sotto voce. “Apparently she feels a need to warn me about something. She also wants me to try on her old uniform.”

Jenny’s face beamed. “I wanna see that, myself.”

“Of course you do,” conceded her boyfriend. “What I don’t understand is why?”

“I like beauty,” she said, halting their walk to class. “And you show it so well.” She delivered a quick peck to his lips. “But you need to show it more often.”

« Bon après-midi, Rhonda, » Brandon greeted his lab partner, speaking into the microphone of his headset.

“You’re back already!” Rhonda exclaimed, still trying to adjust the earphones of her own headset.

« Mais en français, mon amie! » he reminded her as he set a switch on their desk console.

« Déjà tu es retourné! » she reiterated. « Ça va? »

« Très bien! Et toi, Rhonda? »

« Très bien aussi! » answered Rhonda. Then she spoke in English again. “I guess I should thank you.”

“Thank me?” Brandon asked in surprise. “For what?”

“For not coming to school Friday,” answered Rhonda. “Because you didn’t come, Kelly passed the crown for Freshman Homecoming Princess to me.”

« Quoi? » Brandon exclaimed. « A-t-elle passé la couronne à toi? »

« Mais oui! » affirmed Rhonda. “I don’t know how to explain all this in French yet. Kelly named you to be her Knight-escort for Homecoming. But when she heard you were in the hospital, she was really upset and no longer wanted to be Freshman Homecoming Princess. Since I had won second place in the voting, the title went to me.”

Brandon looked down at his lab station. He hadn’t thought that Kelly might want him for her escort. But why would she? Jenny and he were a couple now. It made no sense to him that Kelly wanted to ask him to be her Knight-escort.

“I had no idea, Rhonda,” confessed Brandon, forgetting to converse in French with his lab partner. “She couldn’t’ve asked anyone else?”

“I heard that she wanted only you,” recounted Rhonda. “Would you have escorted her to the game and to the Homecoming Banquet and Dance if you had known?”

« Je ne sais pas, » he replied. « Vraiment, je n’y peux pas répondre. »

Brandon glanced across the room to Jenny, hoping to get her attention, but she was focused on her lesson. Then he took the smartphone from his pocket.

« Qu’est-ce que tu fais, Brandon? » asked Rhonda.

« Je veux parler à Jenny, » Brandon answered as he began inputting a text message to his girlfriend.

“You really shouldn’t be doing that in class,” whispered Rhonda. “You could get in trouble for it and get Jenny in trouble, too.”

“Well, I could hack the language laboratory router instead and talk to her right at her work station,” he replied.

“But that could get you into even worse trouble!” Rhonda continued, sotto voce.

“And that’s why I’m just texting her.”

Rhonda simply rolled her eyes as Brandon giggled at her. So neither noticed their French teacher, Anne-Marie Wiszniewski, walking up behind them.

“Brandon, Principal Lansing has asked to see you right away,” said Madame (Mme) Wiszniewski.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Madame Wiszniewski!” Brandon apologized, believing that he’d been caught texting by his teacher. “I promise not to do it again.”

“Whatever are you talking about, Brandon?” Mme Wiszniewski asked him. “It really doesn’t matter. I just got a message from Doctor Lansing and she wants to see you in her office now.”

“Right now?” he asked, slightly whining, for her to clarify.

« Tout de suite! » confirmed his teacher. She offered the boy a hall pass, inquiring, “I take it you know what this is all about?”

Wishing neither to lie outright nor to tell herq anything that he needn’t yet reveal, Brandon hedged his reply. “Uh—not exactly,” he denied. “It might be any of a few issues. I won’t really know until I get there.” This was true enough, although he could, with high confidence, guess which issue it would most likely be. Accepting the hall pass, he scampered through the door and down the corridor.

“Brandon, please wait in Doctor Lansing’s office,” instructed the school secretary. “She’ll be with you in a minute or two.” The secretary ushered him into the room and took the hall pass from him. Before sitting down he looked around the office. He noticed on the wall, over the desk, a diploma reading:

The boy sat down in a chair in front of the desk. He wondered if Billy Danziger sat in the same chair earlier when he was sentenced to dressing as a girl for the semester? Yet here Brandon was waiting to talk to Principal Lansing. The note didn’t say what she wanted to discuss, but he could guess. After all, it wasn’t every day that a boy is asked to be on a girls’ cheerleading team. Dr. Van de Meer had mentioned that they’d have to ask Dr. Lansing about it, so the principal must need his input. Or perhaps, she’s decided not to allow it and was going to tell him not to worry about it anymore. Or maybe she wanted to know if he’d made a decision or which way he were leaning?

“Good afternoon, Brandon!” the contralto voice of the principal greeted him. “I’d like to thank you for coming on such short notice.” She shut the door behind her and then walked around and sat at her desk. “Don’t worry! You’re not before the captain’s mast, but you must be wondering why you’re here.”

“Is it because Miss San-Giacomo wants me to be a cheerleader?” Brandon asked, getting right to the point.

“Yes, it is,” the principal affirmed. “So, how do you feel about that?”

“I’m not sure how I feel about it,” he answered truthfully and now relaxed. “I talked to all my friends and my sister at lunchtime today to find out what they thought.”

“But I’m wanting to know what you think and how you feel, not their opinions,” clarified Dr. Lansing. “You have to make a decision that’s quite unusual for a boy to consider and I want to be sure that you know what’s being asked of you and what some of the results might be.”

“Well, ma’am, I think I do know what’s being asked of me, and why,” he told the principal. “And I am worried about some possible things that might happen.”

“What are you worried about?”

“I guess I’m most worried about getting teased and bullied,” he said. “It would be another opportunity for bullies to come after me.”

“Well, you’d be participating in a school-sponsored activity,” the principal remarked, probing to see what Brandon understood. “That’s hardly a reason for bullying.”

“Bullies don’t need a reason, Doctor Lansing,” argued Brandon. “Just an opportunity. Having the school’s permission to dress like a girl won’t figure into their logic.”

Dr. Lansing nodded at the boy’s observation. He had summarized the problem quite succinctly. She could not have expressed it any better—maybe not even as well!

“Let’s assume, for the sake of argument, that I can keep the bullies away from you and prevent any teasing,” premised Doctor Lansing. “What else would concern you?”

“I’m not sure how often I’d have to come to school as a girl,” replied the student. “I really had fun on Gender-Bender Day, but the next day, everyone seemed to be pushing me to be a girl. Exploring what being feminine is like was fun, and I think I want to try it again, but if I’m on the cheerleading team, I might be doing it too often. I’d be committing to a full schedule of days when I’d be required to wear the uniform to school. And the cheerleaders have a ‘Fashion Day’ every week when I’d have to come in drag then, too. That might be too much for me.”

“Anything else?”

“Cheerleading can get expensive,” recalled Brandon. “My sister Sheila was a Jay-Vee cheerleader last year and there were a lot of unexpected small expenses, here and there, that she complained about all the time. But my family’s not exactly poor and I get a decent allowance.”

“So then why did she complain about it so much?” Dr. Lansing asked.

“Even though the expenses were small, she had a lot of them and the total amount got larger than she thought,” he explained. “Mom and Dad expect us to budget and to account for our money and often it’s hard to explain unexpected expenses and especially to budget for them.”

“That’s quite true,” conceded the principal. “Yet I get the feeling that you’re not too worried about the cost of it?”

“No, not really, Doctor Lansing,” he admitted. “Like I said, I get a good allowance. Besides, cheerleading would prob’ly take up enough time that I’d do less of another hobby, so I’d just budget that money for it. And then Mom and Dad have always been willing to pay for my sister and me to participate in sports and other school activities.”

“You’ve thought more than one aspect of this through, haven’t you?”

“As much as I’ve had time for it since this morning.”

Dr. Lansing had long experience of reading students’ faces, body language, and intonation. She had a feeling that Brandon was holding something back from her.

“How suited for cheerleading are you physically?” Dr. Lansing inquired.

“That’s prob’ly why Miss San-Giacomo asked me,” answered Brandon. “I had gymnastics lessons with Kelly Harrigan and she told Coach Brenda that I was good at it. That and I think Kelly just wanted to get me in a dress again.”

“Does Kelly tease you much?”

“Daily, since kindergarten…”

Principal Lansing smiled at the boy who had been asked to play such a feminine role just as he approached the cusp of manhood. So he and this cheerleader, Kelly, had some shared history. Perhaps she needed to inquire further into that before approving or rejecting anything.

“Brandon, I know that teasing can be mean-spirited and hurtful, but sometimes it’s meant to be friendly and affectionate,” explained Dr. Lansing. “Have you considered the possibility that Kelly’s teasing is that kind?”

“But how can you tell?”

Dr. Lansing thought that a strange question, unless he were that kind of boy who had difficulty perceiving or understanding social cues. She opened Brandon’s dossier to look at the one-page summary of his academic history and current status in school. She was hardly an expert, but while absorbing the data on the young man, she could only wonder, Asperger’s syndrome?

Peeking at the next page of his file, she had another question to ask him. “Why were you absent Friday?”

“I was—ill.”

“Could you be more specific?”

“Do I have to?”

“Well, your health may be relevant to the decision I have to make.”

Brandon took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “After I went to sleep Thursday night, I had a series of nightmares,” he recounted. “Then I awoke Friday morning from a nightmare with a panic attack. Mom and Dad ran into my room to help me breathe while Sis called for an ambulance.”

“Your Mom and Dad helped you breathe?”

“Yeah,” confirmed Brandon. “Dad’s a physician and Mom’s a nurse. They both work at Saint Luke’s. In fact, Dad was working in the Emergency Room when Double Abby and Kelly came in Friday night.”

“Double Abby?”

“That’s the nickname for Abigail Abernathy.”

“How did she get a nickname like that?”

“When we were in grade school, we had two Abigails in our class and both went by Abby. Then she said that Abby could be a nickname for Abernathy as well. So to distinguish them, we called her Abby-Abby and the other girl just Abby. But by third grade, though, we were calling her Double Abby and it stuck, even though ‘Just Abby’ had moved away by fifth grade.”

The principal couldn’t help but laugh softly at the story. Indeed, each new class entering high school already has a deep history shared among most of the students. Yet she had the feeling that the shared history of this year’s freshman class was perhaps richer than she’d seen in a while. In other years, Brandon’s story would have seemed somehow peculiar, but not right now. She’d already heard a number of unusual stories from the new freshmen suggesting that she might encounter a plethora of such unanticipated issues before they would be graduated. A boy on the cheerleading squad? Just the first of many times that she’d set sail in uncharted waters. She turned her attention once again to the student in front of her desk.

“Brandon, earlier today, I punished a student for breaking several rules, one of them very serious, by requiring him to attend dressed as a girl for the rest of the semester.”

“Billy Danziger?” Brandon suggested. “I heard about what happened.”

“Yes, that was Billy Danziger,” she confirmed. “I ‘sentenced’ him to wear dresses and skirts, but here you are, thinking about volunteering to do it!”

“But if I do, it’s for the benefit of the cheer team and the school’s other sports teams,” asserted Brandon. “It’s not just about me.”

“And it’s noble and unselfish of you to think so,” she complimented the boy. “Still, it would be a mistake for you not to consider all the consequences this might have for you.”

“My new doctor at Saint Luke’s over the weekend said that I need to expand my comfort zone,” he argued. “She also said I should give myself permission to explore my feminine side, but I don’t think she meant for me to do it at school.”

“Well, cheerleading would definitely let you explore your feminine side,” remarked Dr. Lansing. “But there’s something else I want you to consider and it’s at the very heart and soul of cheerleading. You have to really commit to it and give it your all. So, if you decide to join the squad, you must be willing and able to keep at it for the rest of the school year. You can’t just abandon ship later if it proves tougher than you expect. And that means keeping your grades up, although I don’t think you’ll have any problems there. Coach San-Giacomo and all the other Jay-Vee cheerleaders will be relying on you.”

Until right then, Brandon hadn’t quite felt the weight of the decision that he had to make. He had gathered data about it and thought it through, but he hadn’t really felt it yet. Indeed, for Miss San-Giacomo, for Kelly, for Sheila, for Double Abby, and for all others at West Grove High School who took cheerleading seriously, his decision would be very important.

“Doctor Lansing, I’ve already discussed this with Doctor Van de Meer and Miss San-Giacomo this morning. I’ve discussed it with Kelly and my girlfriend Jenny and a few of my other friends over lunch. I’m discussing it with you now. Miss San-Giacomo has asked me to come to the Cheerleading One class this afternoon. If possible, I want to talk to my new doctor about it after school. Of course, I hope to discuss it with Mom and Dad at home. And Sis warned me that she has more to tell me about her experience as a cheerleader, too. Besides, I may even ask my best buddies and my girlfriend for more advice tonight. Then when I come to school tomorrow morning, I’ll have a decision to tell Miss San-Giacomo, Doctor Van de Meer, and you.”

“You seem to be navigating a course to a sound decision.”

“Well, I have to,” said the student. “You just raised the stakes for me.”

“Oh? How did I do that?”

“You said I couldn’t ‘just abandon ship later,’” he reminded her. “If I say yes, then you mean to hold me to it. That raises the stakes for me. I’m stuck if it’s the wrong call.”

Then and there, Principal Lansing understood just how special, how bright, how thoughtful Brandon was. He was indeed more thoughtful and sensitive than his academic record suggested—more than such a report even could suggest. After all, he was willing to volunteer for this role when no one else could. He was right: she had upped the risk on him, even though she had intended only to motivate him to be careful in weighing his decision.

“Brandon, I’m sorry,” apologized Dr. Lansing. “I didn’t mean to add more pressure to your decision. I meant only to encourage you to make your decision carefully and to understand the level of commitment that’s expected of you. However, you already seem to appreciate those things.”

“But if I agree to be a cheerleader, things could still go wrong that aren’t my fault,” worried Brandon. “What happens then?”

The principal rocked back in her chair a moment. “So long as you’ve made a good faith effort to make it work, I won’t let it hurt you. After all, you’re tacking into the wind for the school’s benefit and I recognize that it might not work out, even if you do everything you’re supposed to perfectly. So I won’t let you be set adrift because you were willing to help out.”

“That helps,” admitted Brandon.

“Any more questions for me?” Dr. Lansing asked him.

“Just one,” he remarked. “Were you ever in the Navy?”

“No, but my father and brothers were all naval officers,” the principal told him. “Why do you ask?”

“I noticed the nautical metaphors in your speech,” he observed.

Dr. Lansing paused a moment and gently shook her head, laughing quietly at herself. “So, you do pay attention to what people say,” she approved. “Here’s another hall pass. Get back to class now.”

Fortunately for Brandon, the Girls’ Gymnasium had two offices, including one that had a door opening to the main corridor. Miss San-Giacomo had given him instructions to come to that door. He knocked on it.

“Welcome to Cheerleading One, Brandon!” Coach Brenda greeted him.

“Thanks and good afternoon, Miss San-Giacomo!” Brandon replied, nervously squeezing the handles of his gym-bag.

“You should call me ‘Coach Brenda’ like the other girls do,” she suggested, smiling. “I’m guessing that bag contains your phys-ed uniform?”

“Uh—yeah!” he affirmed. “But it’s my own gear—for boys, I mean!”

“That’s okay, Brandon,” the coach assured him. “I hadn’t intended for you to dress for the class today unless you want to. I mostly want you just to observe and get an idea of how the cheerleaders work day-to-day.”

“But if I want to change clothes, where do I go?”

“For today, you can use my office next door and if you decide to join the cheer team, we’ll work out a more permanent arrangement.”

“Then let me get changed so I’m able to watch as soon as your team gets going.”

With that, Coach San-Giacomo let Brandon into her office to change his clothes for the strangest physical education course that he’d ever try.