The Babysitter - Part 5 - Conclusion
By Pentatonic

After the incidents with Tom and his friend Fred, I decided that I had to be careful. I had acquired a girlfriend and, other than babysitting jobs, I did not appear outside in feminine attire. This was protective camouflage; to the outside world I was just a regular teenage boy.

Memorial Day is an exciting time for me. That is the weekend the community pool opens, and there are Memorial Day picnics. I had to decline an invitation to a picnic with the Bensons, because I wanted to be very careful of who saw me wearing a dress or skirt. Because the Benson’s daughters had only seen me as a girl, I couldn’t magically show up as a boy. However, Joe’s church was holding a picnic, and Joe invited me to attend.

“If I go to your picnic, it’ll have to be as a boy,” I told Joe.

“No skirt? Huh?” he answered.

“No. All the people who were at the Valentine Day party saw me as a boy. Heck, I’m even dating a girl I met there. It wouldn’t work. As a matter of fact it might be dangerous,” I explained.

Emily, true to form, was a royal pain. “Ooh, Tinkerbell has a date to a picnic,” she declared when she found out. “I’ve got a pair of hot pink short shorts you could borrow,” she added.

“For your information, it’s not a date,” I responded, “and I’m not going to wear any short shorts, no matter what color.”

“So Joe’s going to wear them,” she teased.

“No one is going to wear them. You’re just jealous because you’ll spend the Holiday sitting around the house all the time I’m at the picnic.” I had her there. She had just broken up with her latest boyfriend, and no one else had stepped up to fill his place.

“I’ll tell you what,” I added, “I’ll let you drive me there.” Emily had her driver’s license.

“I’m not taking you anywhere if you’re not wearing a dress or skirt,” she said.

“Mother!” I complained, “Emily’s being difficult.”

“Emily,” Mother said, “if I tell you to give Chris a ride to somewhere, you’ll do it, or else you’ll lose your driving privileges.” With this, I stuck my tongue out at Emily. I would have asked Mother to tell Emily to stop being difficult, but I knew that the chance of Emily stopping being difficult was like trying to keep the sun from rising in the morning.

***

The picnic, while nice, was nothing special. I had brought a German potato salad, and there was a lot to eat, including a plethora of pies, At least I ate well. The entertainment was home grown; someone had set up an electric keyboard, and members of the choir sang old favorite hymns. Because I can play the piano and like to sing, I found this enjoyable and softly sang along with them. But not too softly, because the Pastor heard me. “Do you need another singer?” he asked the choir in general. They did, because I ended up singing with them. During a break, I sat down at the keyboard and played.

“Not only does he sing, but he also plays the piano,” the Pastor exclaimed, “how about joining our choir?”

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

While at the picnic, a girl came up to me. “You’re Sue’s boyfriend, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Yeah, I guess so.” I replied.

“I don’t see her here,” the girl said, “How come?”

“Her family had somewhere else to go, and I’ve got a babysitting job this evening.” I said.

“Oh,” she said, “If you two break up, give me a call,” and with that she gave me a slip of paper with her name and number on it.

As it turned out, Sue found a new love at art camp, and when she came back home, she dumped me. Hardly a newsworthy item, but this girl, Cathy Samuels, heard about it and didn’t hesitate to call me. Emily likes to be close to the phone and answer it. When Cathy called, Emily announced, “Hey, Tinkerbell, there’s a Cathy on the phone for you.” Thankfully, Cathy didn’t hear what Emily said.

“I hear that Sue dumped you,” Cathy said. That’s quick, I thought, Sue only did it a few days ago.

“Yeah,” I responded.

“How come?” Cathy asked.

“I don’t know what Sue might have told you or your friends, but she seems to have found the new love of her life at art camp. What did she tell you?”

“Pretty much the same, and that you are shy around girls, inexperienced, and a little bit effeminate,” she answered.

“Does that bother you?” I asked.

“Not in the least,” she said. “I’d kind of like to be with a boy who can connect with his feminine side, because I think he can understand me better than some macho hunk.”

“Well, as you know,” I admitted, “I’m a long way from being a hunk.”

“So, when are we going to go out together? How does Saturday sound?” she said. Wow, I thought, I’ve just had a girl ask me out for a date.

“Sounds good to me,” I replied, “how does miniature golf sound to you.” It sounded good to her, and we spent some time just talking, like boyfriend and girlfriend.

All during my conversation with Cathy, Emily hung around like a vulture. “Ooh, sounds like Tinkerbell has a date.”

“Mother,” I called out, “tell Emily to mind her own business and leave me alone.”

“Emily,” Mother said, “leave your brother alone.” As expected, this had no effect on Emily.

“But Mother,” Emily whined, “It’s not fair. Sue dumps him, and a week later some hussy calls and he has a date. When I dump someone, it takes me weeks to get another boy to ask me out.”

“That’s because I’m not only prettier than you, but I’m nicer,” I rejoined, “and Cathy’s a nice girl, not a hussy.”

“Maybe you’re prettier when you wear a dress,” Emily replied. “By the way, does that Cathy know that you like to wear dresses and skirts,” she said with an evil look on her face.

“No, and she’ll never know!” I insisted.

“We’ll see about that,” Emily said to herself.

I had just about my limit of Emily’s teasing, and I complained to Father. This brought some results. “Emily,” he stated, “this teasing has gone too far. There is a line between friendly teasing and plain meanness, and you’ve pole vaulted over that line. Someone might hear your snide comments and put Chris in physical danger. It will stop this instant, or there will be severe consequences to you.” Dad listed some of the consequences he would impose for any breach on the part of Emily.

***

One day after a swim at the pool Joe and I were walking home. “What is it about you and girl friends all of a sudden?” Joe demanded to know.

“You ever heard the expression ‘hide in plain sight’?” I said, “after what happened to Tom and his friend, I’m just trying to fit in with the other guys who have girl friends. No one will know that I’d rather be a girl, not if I’m dating girls.”

“But what about us?” Joe asked.

“You’ll always be my closest friend,” I replied. “I just want to keep things cool.”

After a minute of silence when Joe and I digested what had been said, I said, “Cathy has a friend, maybe you could ask her out and we could double date. Cathy and I are going to play miniature golf on Saturday, and it would be a lot of fun if you and Cathy’s friend could join us.” Joe took my advice and we set up the double date.

***

It was shortly after the double date that I mentioned to Cathy that I was thinking of going to the community pool. “I usually ride my bike to the pool. If you have a bike, maybe we can meet there,” I suggested. When I mentioned this to Mother, Emily had to butt in. “You could borrow my string bikini,” she said, “but you’d have to find something to put in the bra.” I ignored her as well as I could, and reminded her what Dad had said.

When I met Cathy at the pool, she was the one wearing a string bikini that left nothing to the imagination.

When it came time to go home, I decided that, as a gentleman, I would escort her to her house, and go home from there. When we arrived at her house, there was no one home. There was a note on the kitchen table, directing Cathy to take a casserole out of the refrigerator at a particular time and put it in the oven. “They won’t be home for hours” she said, as she led me to the couch. We were sitting close to each other, with her arms around my neck. I could feel her breasts against my arm, and we kissed, long, lingering kisses, but nothing more. About an hour and a half later that she suggested that I go home, so I wouldn’t be there when her parents returned. I rode home, savoring the afternoon.

***

It was later in the summer that my counselor noted that my puberty was starting. “You’ve told me that you’ve been dating girls since the spring. Do you still want to become a girl?” she asked. I assured her that I did, and that my dating was to hide this fact from the world. I’m not sure that she believed me/

“Well, then we should talk about hormone therapy,” she said, “there are several different hormones, and each preforms a different function. For starters, we could try a testosterone blocker and some form of estrogen and progesterone. If you do, you will notice some changes in your body. You probably will like it that your breasts will start to grow. The down side is that you will have mood swings, and it is possible that you will develop a severe case of acne. There will come a time when it will be difficult to hide the changes from your fellow students and the rest of the people you know. As I told you before, gender dysphoria in males may just end all by itself when the individual goes through puberty, and we want to rule that out.” Since I was dating girls, I suspected that she might believe that I didn’t want to transition. She just didn’t seem to understand that I put personal safety way ahead of everything else and my dating was a facade to keep me from getting beaten up.

The end result was that I would have to wait some time before starting hormones, to see what was going on in my body. I wasn’t happy about this, but the simple fact was that they had the power to prescribe the hormones, and could withhold those prescriptions.

***

Ever since the beautician had given me a pixie haircut I had devised ways to make it look more or less like a boy’s haircut. Maybe less rather than more, because one afternoon after swimming, Cathy and I were at her house. “Let me dry your hair,” she said.

“No, that’s all right, it’ll dry all by itself,” I responded, but my protestations had no effect and Cathy went to her room and returned with a blow dryer, comb and hairbrush, with which she attacked my hair. The end result was that she returned my hair to the pixie hair style.

“Wow,” she said when she was finished, “you’ve got a pixie hair style, did you know that?”

“No,” I lied.

With that she turned and stared directly in my face. “Did you know that you have a pretty face?” she asked.

“I’ve heard something like that a couple of times,” I admitted. It was a whole lot more times than a couple, but I didn’t want to disclose that.

“With a little makeup, you could be a pretty girl,” she observed. While I knew that well, this was the last thing I wanted to hear from Cathy. I hoped that she would drop the topic, but to no avail. She called her mother over to look. “Mom, look at Chris,” she said, “don’t you think with a little makeup he would look like a pretty girl?”

“I don’t know,” her Mother replied, “Maybe, but I’m not sure that Chris would like that.”

“Oh, come on,” Cathy continued, “let’s try it.”

“I don’t want to,” I protested.

“Look, no one will know. After you get a look at yourself we can wash it right off,” she said.

“And put my hair back the way it was,” I demanded, not realizing that by what I had said I was admitting to allow Cathy to apply some makeup.

When Cathy’s mother saw some makeup being applied, she said, “I didn’t think that Chris wanted you to do that.”

“He said it was okay, as long and I put his hair back as it was,” Cathy said, taking a very liberal interpretation of what I had said. Cathy left and returned with a mirror. The reflection of my face was nothing new to me; it was what I had seen countless times before when I made myself up.

“Mom, come over here and take a look,” she said.

“Very nice, dear,” her mother said without commitment and with some reserve in her voice, “but Chris can’t ride his bicycle home looking like that.”

“Could you take it off now, and put my hair back like it was?” I asked.

Cathy didn’t answer my question, but rather said, “I bet you’d look great in a dress, with some jewelry.”

I was really nervous by now, and quite unhappy, and again requested she undo what she had done.

“But I like the way you look right now,” she said. She then put her mouth close to my ear and whispered, “I like girls as well as boys. With you I can have both.” Alarm bells went off in my head.

A few days later, Cathy suggested that we go to some kind of meeting on the next Wednesday evening. “I hope not too late, I don’t want to be alone on my bicycle in the dark,” I advised.

“Mom can pick you up and drive you home,” she suggested, “how about it?”

“I guess that it would be okay,” I admitted.

That Wednesday evening Cathy’s Mom drove us to a local church. The first thing I noticed was a rainbow-colored banner above the door. “Is this an LGBT meeting?” I said with some concern, “are you . . .”

Without waiting for me to finish that sentence, she said, “Yes, come on, it won’t hurt you.”

Cathy introduced me around as her new boy/girl friend. I didn’t like that at all, because I was afraid of what could happen if that was known at school, but I don’t think anyone considered me as anything other than Cathy’s straight boyfriend, no matter how she introduced me. I found out how often the meetings are, and stowed that information in my brain for future reference.

I was beginning to understand why she had told me she liked boys who had a feminine side.

***

One day at the pool I saw Cathy holding the hand of an older girl. They came over to me. “Chris, I’d like you to meet Sandy. Sandy and Cathy smiled at each other, and kept holding hands. A short time later, Cathy pulled me aside. “We need to talk,” she said, “Chris, you are very nice, and I like you, but I’ve met Sandy, and I don’t want to continue to date you.”

Wow, I thought, dumped again, but this time for a woman. Oh well, time to find a new girlfriend to keep up the facade of being just a ‘regular guy’ as protective camouflage.

Finding a new girlfriend did not prove difficult. Anita latched on to me when she heard that Cathy and I had broken up. At first she seemed to be sweetness and innocence, but that was her facade. Underneath it she had the morals of a female alley cat. A few weeks later she met a male alley cat, and that was that. Dumped again.

A short time later I had a babysitting job for Ellen, Mrs. Sloan’s daughter. Sylvia was there when I arrived.

“How’s your love life as a teenaged boy?” she asked, knowing of my facade.

“I’ve been dumped three times,” I related, “once for a ‘hunk,’ once for a woman, and a third time for a guy with the morals of an alley cat.”

“So, no lasting romances?” she asked.

“No, I guess not,” I replied.

“You know why?” she asked.

“No, not really,” I answered.

“Did you sleep with any of them?” was her next question.

“No, of course not,” I said, almost indignantly.

“There’s your answer,” Sylvia said, rather smugly.

***

It was August when Virginia entered my life. She and I were in school together and shared some classes. I had the impression that she was shy, because I never saw her hanging out with any boys. I was at the pool with some of the guys, and she had come with a group of girls. Naturally, a group of guys are drawn to a group of girls like flies to honey. I took a chance and asked, “Are you taking the music history course this coming year?”

“Yes,” was her one word reply. It took a lot of talking to get her to respond in complete sentences. Later that afternoon one of the other girls pulled me aside. “Virginia told me that she likes you. She said that you’re not a macho boor like most guys. As you may have noticed, she is rather shy. I’ve heard that she was abused by some weirdo when she was little, and as a result she is afraid of boys.”

Virginia and I found that we had a lot in common and she began to warm up to me. We talked about music and dancing, and we found that we both liked ballroom dancing. I had learned it when Emily took some dancing classes, and I was asked to attend since the classes did not have many boys in them.

“My Dad is a member of the country club, and they are having a ‘Founder’s Day’ dinner dance coming up,” she said one day. “Dad asked me if I wanted to invite someone, and since there will be a lot of ballroom dancing, I thought of you. Would you like to go with me?”

While I was surprised, I readily accepted.

While the dance was not formal, all of the men wore coats and ties and the women wore cocktail dresses. Some of the women even wore formal gowns. I danced with Virginia, and then with her Mother. After her Mother and I returned to the table, her Mother exclaimed to all, “He knows how to fox trot, waltz, and can do the rhumba.” It appeared that a lot of the men did not have these talents, so I ended up dancing will all of the ladies at the table.

I had noticed that when I held Virginia while dancing she seemed to stiffen up. I surmised that this was a reaction to when she had been abused and she was afraid of men. However, the more I danced with her the more relaxed she became. As everyone was leaving, Virginia’s Mom pulled me aside. “Chris, we really enjoyed your company, and Virginia seems a lot more relaxed with you than with any other boy,” she confided. I had found a new girlfriend.

***

When school started, I found out that all of my class would have meetings with the guidance counselors at the school. All of us had to fill out a questionnaire to help determine what careers we might like, and this was used to schedule our classes. In addition to the questionnaire we were scheduled to meet with a guidance counselor.

“I’m impressed with your academic record,” the counselor said, “I hope that you are thinking of going on to college, in which case I think that you should look into available scholarships.” He looked at the questionnaire. “You say you are interested in a career working with children. Why is that?”

“I’ve done a lot of babysitting; I enjoy it, and making it enjoyable for the children,” I responded.

“Hmmm,” he responded, “what do you think about teaching?”

“Or maybe working in the healthcare field,” I added.

He consulted a list on his desk. “I don’t know if you’d be interested in this, but St. Luke’s Hospital here in town offers a scholarship for people in the area who want to get a nursing degree. They’ve paired the scholarship with Morgan University, which is also in this town.”

He paused for a moment, and consulted some information on his desk. “Oh,” he said, “I don’t suppose that you know any doctors. It says that you have to have a doctor sponsor you.”

My mind immediately thought of Virginia’s Dad. He’s an MD, I thought. “I might just know a doctor who might just sponsor me. Of course, the operative word is ‘might’ in this case,” I said.

The counselor handed me a sheet of paper. “Here are some of the details of the program, take a look at it and ask to see me again if you are interested.” With that the session ended.

***

Some time later I was invited to a barbeque at Virginia’s house. I have always been comfortable talking to adults, and Virginia’s Dad asked for a minute of my time. “You’re a bright and personable young man. Have you thought of a career?”

“As a matter of fact, I have,” I started to say.

“How are your grades?” he interjected.

“Pretty good, Not straight A, but a solid B+ average.” I responded.

“How about science?” he asked.

“All A’s,” I said.

“Before I interrupted you, you were going to tell me about your thoughts for a career,” he said, in the nature of a question.

“Funny you should mention it, but I recently had a conference with a guidance counselor, and he told me of a scholarship program at St. Luke’s to get a nursing degree,” I advised him.

“Maybe unusual for a boy, but not impossible,” he commented, “in fact, the scholarship committee was considering ways to attract young men into nursing. I should know, since I am on that committee.”

Bingo! I though. If I play my cards right, this may actually work. I smiled to myself.

Virginia and I continued to date, but the relationship never progressed beyond a few chaste kisses, which was perfectly fine with me and Virginia. One real benefit was that the more time I spent with Virginia, the closer I became to her Father.

After a dinner at Virginia’s house, her Father turned to me and asked, “Does your school have career days, where you follow someone for a day, to see if you’d like to do that as a career?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Let me talk with the Director of Nursing about this, and I’ll get back to you,” he said.

“Thank you,” I responded.

Virginia’s Dad, as I later found out, was quite an important person at the hospital, because a few days later the Director of Nursing, in person, called me. We set up a day for my visit. “Come by my office some time this week so you can sign the necessary papers and I can get you a set of scrubs to wear.”

I really enjoyed learning what nursing was about. What impressed me was how much hard work it was.

***

Although it was only the start of my sophomore year in high school, I had set my goals. The first was to win the St. Luke’s Hospital scholarship and get admitted to the nursing program at Morgan University. The second was to get some progress on my transition. I had been successful in concealing this second goal from just about everyone, which I believed was necessary for my personal safety.

My first goal required that I keep my grade point average as high as possible. My dating of Virginia was a definite plus in this endeavor. Virginia and I shared a number of classes, and we were able to study together. Joe also shared many of these classes, and on weekends the three of us could be seen doing class work together. Obviously, social activities were not as important.

When mid-term grades were sent out, our diligent work was rewarded. The same cannot be said for Emily’s grades. She had come to realize that her grade point average was below what was needed for admission to a good college, but since she was a senior, now was too late to do anything about it.

As to my second goal, I had convinced my counselor that I was serious, and I started on a testosterone blocker. I told the counselor, again, that my dating was strictly for self preservation.

When Halloween rolled around it was pretty much just another day, except for taking Ann around for trick or treating. This year I did not wear a costume, much to the dismay of Emily and Joe. I told them that they just had to learn to live with it. I did keep babysitting, because I needed the money.

The holidays, and in fact the whole next spring, were unremarkable, except that I now had a driver’s license and could get a job. All of my studying had the desired effect, and at the end of my sophomore year my grade point average had improved, as did Virginia’s and Joe’s. Naturally, the study time cut into my social life, and most of my dates with Virginia were study dates.

***

When summer was nearing, I began to think about getting a summer job. As can be imagined, there are more teenagers looking for jobs than there were jobs. Here my connection with Virginia’s Dad helped me.

Virginia would not be looking for a job, since she had enrolled in a summer program at a college which would earn her college credits. The college was in another state, so Virginia would be away the entire summer. Naturally, neither Joe nor I could afford to do the same.

It was a Sunday afternoon in May, and Joe and I were at Virginia’s house, studying. Virginia’s Dad came into the room when we were taking a break. “Chris, Joe, what are you thinking about doing this summer?” he asked.

“Both of us are hoping to find a summer job,” I answered, “and I will keep babysitting.”

“The reason I asked,” he continued, “is that I’m impressed by the two of you. I talked with the facilities’ manager and he said that he could find summer jobs for both of you. They will be minimum-wage, unskilled jobs, like mopping floors or hauling trash, but they are available if you are interested.”

We were very interested, and interviews with the facilities manager were arranged. Joe and I were hired.

My camouflage remained intact. I was a brainy kid, whose girl friend was away for the summer, and who was lucky and had landed a summer job. The net result was that I was totally ignored by the other kids, which just suited me fine.

Joe’s plan was to earn enough money to buy a car and pay for insurance, and in mid-August he reached that goal. The car looked like a junk yard reject, but it ran, and got us where we wanted to go. Neither Joe nor I had taken any auto repair courses in high school, but some of the men with whom we worked knew about cars, and even took some time out to help us with keeping it running.

It appeared that Joe had an ulterior motive in getting the car. “Hey,” he said, “you could put on a nice skirt and blouse and we could drive to a secluded spot and play kissy face and huggy bear.” I made a face at him when he suggested this, even though I inwardly would enjoy it.

“In your dreams,” was my response.

***

The course work for my junior year was harder than it had previously been. Just to keep up required a lot of work. Since Joe and Virginia shared a lot of classes with me, they had to work just as hard.

My sister Emily was not admitted to any of the colleges to which she had applied. It was suggested that she enrol in the community college where they had what could be best described as remedial courses. My course work was well above what she had to learn and she was forced to come to me, hat in hand, for help. Payback time!

“Hey Chris,” she would say, “can you help me?”

“So now it’s Chris, and not Tinkerbell?” I asked.

“I’m sorry for being mean and teasing you about that,” she was forced to admit. I could see that she was at least a little sorry, so I agreed to help her.

***

Throughout my junior year, I had little opportunity to wear a skirt or dress, other than my babysitting work. Since Joe had a car, there were occasions where I would get dressed and Joe and I would drive to another town where it was not likely that Joe or I would be recognized. Naturally, I had to arrange these trips when they did not conflict with my social life with Virginia and my babysitting jobs. These occasions were few and far between.

***

The next summer, Joe and I were able to get the same jobs we had the prior summer, and we were saving up for college. As soon as I could, I applied for admission into the nursing degree program at Morgan University, and made application for the scholarship offered by St. Luke’s Hospital. My time spent with Virginia’s Dad paid off and he sponsored me.

Right after the first of the year, I began Hormone Replacement Therapy. “You know,” my counselor said, “you will begin to see the effects of the therapy, some sooner and some later. You probably will like it when your breasts enlarge and you will have some fatty deposits compatible with females. However, you will need to be patient.”

When I related this to Joe, he was ecstatic. “You mean that you’ll be getting tits?” he exclaimed, “can I be the first to fondle them?”

“Is that all you think about?” I challenged.

“Well, maybe not the only thing,” he said, “but I do think about it a lot.”

“I had hoped that as you got older you might mature some,” I rejoined.

“Not a chance,” was his response.

***

Shortly thereafter my counselor and I discussed my Real Life Experience, where I would present myself as a female full time for a whole year. I told her that I planned to start my RLE right after I graduated from high school.

“You know, if you plan to have gender reassignment surgery, I will not approve it until some time after you have completed your RLE,” she advised me, “Have you thought about how you will handle things when you are in college?”

Now there was the rub. If I was accepted at Morgan University, it would be as a male. Same for the scholarship, if I got it. If I didn’t get the scholarship it would be moot, since I couldn’t afford the tuition without it, even living at home. In any event, I couldn’t address the problem until I was accepted and had the scholarship.

Fortunately, I had joined a support group for transgendered persons. Other members of the support group had faced the same issues, and some were successful in solving the problem.

***

I knew that I would have to tell Virginia what was happening in my life. Therefore, I made plans to take Virginia out to a fancy restaurant for Valentine’s Day.

“We’ve been dating for a long time, and I am very fond of you and the time we’ve had together,” I said, “There are a lot of people who think that we should get married. However, there is a little matter which might make that impossible.”

“Chris, I am very fond of you, but don’t you think that it is a little premature to talk of marriage? We are both looking at college, and I for one anticipate that I will want to go to grad school,” she responded.

“The matter I’m talking about has nothing to do with college or grad school,” I said, “but before we talk about it, tell me if you love me.”

“As I said, I am very fond of you,” she answered, “but in love with you to the extent that I want to marry you? No.”

“That makes it easier for me to tell you about this matter. Virginia, I’m transgendered.”

For a minute, neither of us said anything.

“You mean that you want to be a girl?” she asked.

“Not quite,” I answered, “for a long time I’ve known that I am a girl, but in a boy’s body. I’ve started on hormone therapy, and right after we graduate I will dress and act as a girl, full time.”

“Oh,” she said, “that kind of rules out marriage, even after grad school.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“Who knows about this?” she asked, and I told her.

“You know, I think you need to tell my parents, especially my Father,” she observed.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “I think that I have to.”

She smiled. “I know it’s not funny, but I was just thinking of what my Mother will do. I think that she was sizing you up as a son-in-law. I think that Dad will be more understanding. After all, I have told both of them that while I really like you, I’m not in love with you. I’m not sure that they believed me.”

She paused. Then she said, “You want to know why I’m not in love with you?”

“I guess so,” I answered.

“I’ve always thought that you are a bit too effeminate.” She chuckled. “Now I understand why.”

“By the way, I’m not letting you off the hook,” she added, “as of now you are no longer my boyfriend. You are now officially my best female friend. I want to keep seeing you as before. Is that okay with you?”

“More than okay,” I answered, “it’s more than I could hope for.”

***

I dreaded meeting with her parents, but I knew that I had to. I steeled my courage, and told her Dad first. “Well,” he said, “That is some revelation. I need to digest that. You know, it will affect your application for the scholarship, but we might be able to deal with it. Let me think about it and discuss it with the committee. Why don’t we plan on having dinner next weekend? By the way, what name will you be using?”

“Christine,” I replied, “it keeps things easier.”

***

In due time, Morgan University advised me that I was accepted into the nursing degree program. I scheduled a meeting with the director of admissions, where I told him of my upcoming transition, and asked him if I could still attend the school. He said that I could, and that I was not the first person to do it, and they had a policy established to make it happen.

About a month later, I was advised that St. Luke’s was awarding me the scholarship. Thereafter, Virginia’s Dad arranged a meeting with the scholarship committee, and my award was amended.

***

At long last, graduation. I jumped the gun a little on graduation day and wore panties and pantyhose under my clothes for the commencement.

The next day I went whole hog and wore a dress. By this time, my breasts had began to grow, and the nipples and areola had become larger. I definitely needed a bra by now. Naturally, Joe was very interested.

***

Ever since I knew that I really am a girl, I wanted to marry Joe. Now, how to get him to propose? I decided to discuss it with Mother who couldn’t understand why I always wanted to hang around with Joe. I dressed in a ruffled blouse and skirt and sat at the kitchen table over coffee. I started the conversation.

“I want to marry Joe.” I said.

You could have heard a pin drop. After a moment she made some incoherent mumbles, and then said, more of a question than a statement, “You want to marry Joe?”

“That’s what I said,” I replied, “I want to be his wife.”

“When did you make this decision?” she asked.

“When I first discovered that I’m really a girl,” I answered, “maybe around fifth grade.”

“Fifth grade?” she said, with surprise in her voice. “You never told me,” she added, “why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I didn’t know if you’d like it then,” I posited.

“I’m not sure I like it now,” she exclaimed. She paused. “Does Joe know?”

“Of course not, the prospective groom is always the last to know,” I said with a snicker.

“How do you plan to get him to propose?” she asked.

“Well, I’m not going to put on a short skirt, sit on his lap, and rub him with my butt,” I said.

“Seriously, how do you really plan to do it?” she wanted to know.

“You know how he always wants to see me in a dress. I’ll ask him if he’d like to see me wearing a bridal gown. He’s sure to say yes,” I explained. “I’ll steer the conversation around to see if he gets the hint.”

“And if that doesn’t work?” she questioned.

“Well, in that case, maybe I’ll put on a short skirt, sit on his lap, and rub him with my butt until he proposes.”

“You’re hopeless,” she commented.

“Really, I think that I’ll have to propose to him,” I said.

“Okay, I’m not wild about this, but tell me, when do you want to get married?” she asked.

“Maybe two years from now, after I’ve had my sexual reassignment surgery.”

At that point, Emily walked into the room, having just returned from a class. “Did you tell her?”

“I just did,” I answered.

“You told Emily before you told me?” she asked.

“Of course, sisters always confide in each other before talking to Mom,” I said.

“I don’t know if I liked it better when she was always teasing you,” Mother said.

“That’s over,” Emily said, “ever since she stopped being a snotty little brother and became my dear sister.”

***

It was time to clue Joe in. I put on a short skirt and revealing blouse, showing off my new breasts, with a little help from some rolled up pantyhose. I went over to his house, and I knew I had his attention the minute he saw me. “You like?” I asked.

“I always like it when you wear a skirt or a dress,” he answered.

“Then how’d you like to see me in a bridal gown?” I asked.

“I’d love it,” he answered, “When you going to show me?”

“Some time after you get on your knees and ask me to marry you,” I answered.

“You want to marry me?” he said.

“Yes,” I answered. “I’ve wanted to marry you since fifth grade.”

“You never told me,” he said.

“I couldn’t very well until now, could I?” I said

“I guess not,” he replied.

With that, he got on his knees and proposed and I accepted. He then sat next to me on the couch and began to rub my knee. He progressed further, and then touched my breasts. For the first time I had known him I did not stop him. After all, he was now my fiancee.

***

We were married six months after my surgery. Emily was my maid of honor and Ann a bride’s maid. He really liked my bridal gown. I gave Joe my virginity that night.