Tommy’s biggest concern for this cold Saturday in January was that his longtime friend, Brett O’Connor, not discover that the cute girl named Zoey was in fact Tommy himself. In a dare from his younger sister, Tommy, had dressed so convincingly as a girl that could easily convince his playmate Brett that he was nothing other than a girl cousin named Zoey.

The thirteen-year-old Brett was so taken with the girlish appeal of Zoey that he asked her to go ice-skating on Saturday. Tommy to his own surprise had accepted the invitation to continue his charade as Zoey, fully realizing that if Brett were ever to know the truth, he would face terrible humiliation.

Yet, the excitement of being a girl stirred Tommy, made him feel wanted and accepted. It was with trepidation and eager anticipation that he stood in his bedroom wearing only a pair of light blue satin panties, fresh from a newly-purchased package of his mother’s. It turned out that he and his mother were about the same size, both about five feet, two inches tall, and with almost identical chubby bodies.

In his hands, he held a training bra, provided by his eleven-year-old sister. He wondered whether he’d fit into it, but realized that he had a muscularly undeveloped upper body, with narrow shoulders. His sister, who was already more athletic than he was, seemed to have a larger body frame.

“You need any help, Zoey,” his sister said, yelling through the closed door.

“No,” he lied. He was having trouble hooking the bra around the back, but didn’t want her to see him in his current state.

He was able to maneuver the soft mounds of flesh into the cups of the bra, but was unable to link up the hooks in the rear. He struggled hopelessly for several minutes, before succumbing to Tonya’s offer of help.

The girl entered, and stood for a minute looking at him.

“Oh, my God, what a girl!”

“Shut up and help me hook this in the back.”

She stepped around him and pulling the bra straps tight, she connected the hooks. As she did so, the bra brought support to his breasts, filling the cups with his soft flesh. “Wow, Zoey, you have lovely breasts.”

There was no mirror in his room and Tonya grabbed his arm, dragging him out of the door and into their mother’s room where there was a full-length mirror attached to the closet door. “There, look, dear Zoey. You’re a girl!” she proclaimed.

Tommy was afraid to look; he was so ashamed of his soft, weak body; yet, now, if he was a girl, it might be a body that everyone would find attractive. When he got the courage to look, he indeed saw a wide-hipped, fleshy girl, a soft belly protruding over the panty top and breasts seeming ready to burst out of the prison of the bra cups.

He had seen his mother several times in just her bras and panties and marveled at how closely his body seemed to mirror hers.

*****
“Zoey, I believe these will fit you,” his mother said as she entered his room, her arms bundled with clothes. She deposited the outfits onto his bed.

“Mother, you should have knocked. I’m not dressed,” he said.

“Zoey, I’m just your mother. It’s not like I haven’t seen you partially dressed before, and anyway, I can see how sweet you look in those undies.”

Nonetheless, Tommy was embarrassed that his mother saw him dressed only in a bra and panties, looking completely as if he were a teen girl. He had held his hands in front of his crotch to hide his smallish penis, which created a bulge in his panties that was only barely noticeable.

“These are clean Zoey, and they haven’t been worn in over fifteen years, when I was in college,” Emily Lundstrom began. “They’re meant for outdoor skating so they should be plenty warm for today. I’ll help you get dressed. Is that OK?”

“Yes, mother,” he agreed, knowing he really didn’t have much choice.

The first bit of clothing he put on was a two-piece dark blue thermal underwear set, with leggings that went to the ankles and with a highneck and long-sleeved top. “This will keep you warm, Zoey, but not hinder your movement,” she said.

He looked at himself in the mirror, clad in the tight-fitting garments, realizing how feminine his form appeared but particularly noticing the protruded nipples of his breasts and the round tummy beneath them. “I’ve got to lose weight, mother,” he said, patting his tummy.

“We both do, darling,” she said. “Maybe we two girls can diet together.”

“Mom, I’m not a girl,” he protested.

“Yet.”

The “yet’ bothered him, made him again wonder why he was following through on this charade in which he’d have to spend the day as Zoey and convince a boy whose known him most of his life that he was Zoey. It was crazy.

Next, he put on navy blue tights that felt thick and warm, topping that off with a lovely hooded lavender skater garment, that had been made especially for skating in cold, outdoor weather. The outfit had a heavily pleated skirt that went to mid-thigh. A colorful pink scarf was wrapped around his neck and his mother gave a matching lavender wool hat.

“My, you look truly fetching in that, darling,” Emily said to her son.

She called out to his sister that she could enter the room to see how her new sister looked.

“Oh, mom, she’s so pretty in that. All the other boys will be jealous of Brett to have such a cute girlfriend,” Tonya said.

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Tommy said.

“You will be once he sees you, Zoey,” his sister teased.

Tommy was getting terribly warm in the outfit, and was pleased to find that he could easily take off the heavy skater outfit by unzipping it up the front. The outfit was really a hooded coat, he realized, designed to show off a skater’s femininity.

“You better unzip it, darling. It’ll be an hour before Brett calls on you,” she said, assisting him in taking off the outfit.

“Now, let’s try these on, Zoey,” his mother said. She produced a pair of white skates.

“But mom, I got my own skates,” he argued.

“A girl can’t wear those old black skates. No, try these on.”

After trying the skates on and finding they fit perfectly, he took them off and sat down to await Brett’s arrival. Yes, for the rest of the day, he was to be Zoey Lundstrom, going out on a date, even though he was only twelve years old. His heart was pounding, so much so that he was afraid his thirteen-year-old friend would hear its rhythmical beat. He realized now that he felt girlish, and he loved it.

*****
“Mom, meet Zoey,” Brett O’Connor said, introducing the young girl to his mother. The boy had gone to the Lundstrom’s house, two doors away, to get Zoey and bring her back to his home, where his mother was waiting to drive the two children to the ice skating rink.

“My, aren’t you a sweetie,” Mary Catherine O’Connor said, examining Zoey. Mrs. O’Connor put on her puffy winter jacket and donned a tasseled wool cap.

Zoey blushed and felt relieved. She had been dreading meeting Brett’s mother, since she had known her for years as Tommy when the two boys played together in the years they were almost inseparable. Today, it was apparent, she didn’t see Tommy, only Zoey.

Zoey and Brett piled into the back seat of the O’Connor’s aging Ford Taurus, while Brett’s sister, eleven-year-old Melanie joined her mother in the front seat.

“I’ve been told you’re quite a good figure skater, dear,” Mary Catherine said as she navigated the ice-crusted streets. A recent heavy snow had been followed by a cold wave that had made it difficult to remove snow from the streets. It had been too cold for even the salt compound to melt it down.

“I took some lessons, ma’am,” Zoey said politely. She was determined to say as little as possible, in fear that her voice might betray her gender. Actually, she had little to fear, since Tommy’s voice had yet to change and still retained a child’s higher pitch.

“Brett’s just a klutz on skates,” Melanie quipped from the front seat.

“Now, Mel, don’t tease your brother,” their mother said. “You know he plays hockey.”

“But only as a goalie ‘cause he can’t skate as good as the other boys,” Melanie replied.

“I can, too,” Brett said.

Zoey felt she had to defend Brett. “I bet he’s a good skater. Being goalie is a tough job.”

“You’re right Zoey,” their mother said. “But you can probably show Brett how graceful he could really be on skates.”

“Only if he wants to,” Zoey said.

“Mom, we’re just going skating to have fun,” Brett said. “It doesn’t matter who’s the better skater.”

“Yes, Mrs. O’Connor,” Zoey agreed. Brett put a gloved hand onto Zoey’s gloved hands and the two young persons smiled at each other.

*****
Roosevelt Park was created in the early 20th Century, spurred on by the growing interest in outdoor activities made popular by President Theodore Roosevelt, who among his many environmental programs had established the National Park Service. In this Upper Midwest city, local leaders, many of them socialists took great interest in creating municipal parks and recreational locations. The Park’s outdoor skating rink was actually a plowed section of the large park’s lagoon that nestled next to a colonial building that served as the park’s public pavilion, where skaters could change into their skates in a warm place.

The changing room was a steamy place, crowded with adults and children alike. Some were either putting on skates preparing to go on the ice. Adults were fussing with a number of younger children, kneeling before them to assist in lacing up the skates. Others had completed their skating for the day and were taking off the skates, laughing loudly with their friends and talking about where they’d stop for hot chocolate later on.

Brett took Zoey’s hand and struggled to find a place on the changing benches where the two could sit together.

An adult woman, obviously a mother, struggling to assist her young son with his skates saw Brett looking for bench space. “Here, young man, we’ll scoot over so you and your girlfriend can sit together,” she said.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Brett said.

The two sat down at the open space, Zoey next to the woman’s son.

“Thank you for moving over,” Zoey said. “That was kind.”

The woman smiled, turned to her son and said. “Joshua, say ‘hi’ to the pretty lady.”

“Hi,” the boy said in a voice so low it was almost impossible to hear.

“Hi, Joshua,” Zoey said.

Zoey felt warm all over. She was being accepted completely as a girl and was surprised to feel how comforting it was. To add to his comfort, Brett had accepted him completely as a girl named Zoey.

“That’s a lovely jacket you’re wearing,” the woman said. “You look absolutely divine in it.”

Zoey blushed. “It was my mom’s. She used to be quite a good skater.”

“Well, it looks great on you, dear.”

Overhearing the conversation, Brett interjected. “Thank you, ma’am. She’s really cute in that jacket.”

The woman finished putting the skates on her son and the two got up to go onto the ice. “You two have a good skate out there. You’re a cute couple,” she said as she left.

As they glided out onto the rink, Brett held Zoey’s hand and said, “Everyone thinks we’re boyfriend-girlfriend,” Brett said. “Are we?”

Zoey looked at him. Boyfriend-girlfriend! She didn’t know how to answer.

“Maybe,” was all she could say.

*****
Zoey and Brett soon fell in step with each other as they glided about the rink. Both were better-than-average skaters, Brett having been in youth hockey and Zoey with her training in figure skating. The moved along in a counter-clockwise direction with other skaters, as was the tradition on this municipal rink. Beginning skaters and those wanting to engage in figure skating typically used the center ice for their random moves.

“People are looking at us, Zoey,” Brett said as they moved toward the far end of the rink and glided around a small island. “Are we the best skaters out here?”

Zoey smiled as she quickly dropped his hand and began skating backward, looking at him as she did so and then reaching out for him with both hands, grabbing them as the two twirled into two quick circles, all of the time moving with the flow of the other skaters.

As they completed the second twirl, a few hoots were heard from other skaters, obviously impressed by the two. Another boy skated up to Brett and hailed him, “Who’s your girlfriend, Brett?”

“Hey, Jason,” Brett said.

“What’s your name, honey?” the boy said, directing the question to Zoey, as the three continued to skate joining the other skaters.

“Go away, Jason,” Brett said, before she could answer.

“Come on, Brett,” the boy persisted.

“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just visiting.”

“Maybe she could be my girlfriend, then,” the boy named Jason said.

“Just buzz off, Jason,” Brett said, pulling on Zoey so that they could speed up their skating and move away from the boy.

“Who’s that?” Zoey asked, even though she knew the boy was Jason Clements, a boy in her grade at Frederick Douglass.

“A nobody, he’s in my school, but a year behind. Just a pest.”

“He seemed nice,” Zoey said, purposely deceiving Brett.

“Shall we take a break?” the boy said, as they neared the pavilion.

Even though the temperature was in the low 20’s, the energetic skating the two had engaged in had warmed them up, though their legs were beginning to ache. “I could take a break,” Zoey agreed.

*****
As they padded their way on the thick rubberized mat used by skaters into the change area of the pavilion, Brett suddenly stopped. He moved from Zoey’s left, placing himself to her right, pulling her abruptly into a far corner of the room. He found a bench and the two sat with their backs to the room.

It didn’t take long for Zoey to realize that Brett was trying to hide himself from someone else in the room. She wondered whether it was Jason, but had the strange feeling it might have been somebody else.

“They sell hot chocolate here, Brett,” Zoey said, her craving for the warm liquid mounting.

“Oh,” he said, obviously not rising to the bait to treat Zoey with a cup.

Instead, Brett seemed to hunch down, lifting the hood of his jacket over his head, even though the changing area felt warm, almost stifling. Zoey was certain now that Brett was trying to avoid someone. Rather than let on that she was aware of Brett’s attempted deception, she decided to assist him by suggesting that he might help her tie up her skates a bit more securely.

Quickly, the boy knelt down on his knees before her to start monkeying with her ties.

“They look tight enough to me,” he said, looking up at Zoey.

“Well, just pretend to work on my skates, then,” she said with a wink.

Brett looked at her and smiled. It was a smile that reflected his gratitude at Zoey’s gentle acknowledgment of his quandary.

“I think she’s gone now,” Brett said after several minutes of playing with the ties of the skates, having raised his head enough to look about the large room.

She? Zoey guessed that he must have a regular girlfriend and that must have been from whom he had been hiding. Zoey felt a pang of jealousy, and immediately rejected it. Why should she be jealous? She was just masquerading as a girl and in a few hours would be back to being Tommy. “Did you wanna go back on the ice?” Zoey asked.

“Yeah, I think that person was leaving,” he said.

Brett grabbed Zoey’s hand as they ventured gingerly along the rubberized mat that led from the pavilion to the ice. They were about halfway along the mat when a voice said, “Oh, Brett, I thought you had a cold.”

Brett stopped, his grasp of Zoey’s hand was so firm that she almost fell as he pulled her to a halt.

“Oh, hi Beth,” he said. Even with the hood over Brett’s head, Zoey could see the boy’s face grow red.

Zoey recognized the girl, a tall, husky girl with a round cherubic face, as Bethany Zarconi, who was also in Zoey’s (Tommy’s) class at Frederick Douglass. She froze for a moment, hoping the girl didn’t recognize her.

“I didn’t feel too good this morning when DeDe called,” he said.

“Then who’s this,” Beth said, her voice taking on a demeaning tone.

Zoey grew comfortable. It was obvious Bethany didn’t see a resemblance between Zoey and Tommy. She knew that DeDe was Dolores Ziolkowski, also a classmate, who was also an inseparable friend with Beth.

When Brett didn’t answer, Zoey spoke, her voice taking on a cheerful note. “Hi, I’m Zoey and I’m Tonya Lundstrom’s cousin from Illinois. Just visiting. I wanted to go skating so badly that I’m afraid I begged Brett to take me, since he liked skating, too.”

“Yeah, she and my little sister nagged me to take her,” Brett said.

Beth looked skeptical. “I still think I should tell DeDe I saw you here with a girl.”

“Why? This girl doesn’t mean anything to me. Besides she’s just a kid.”

“I’m not just a kid,” Zoey protested.

“Zoey, you are only in 7th grade,” Brett said.

“OK, then, why were you holding hands?” Bethany pressed.

“To keep me from falling,” Zoey said.

Brett grabbed her hand and turned to go on the ice. “Let’s get skating, Zoey.”

“Bye Beth,” he said, leading Zoey along the mat.

“Nice meeting you,” Zoey yelled after the retreating Bethany.

As they reached the ice, Zoey acted as if she was a beginning skater, actually falling after a few phony halting steps on the ice.

“Whew,” Brett said after they had progressed onto the ice and Zoey felt it was safe to quit pretending that she was inept as a skater.

“I think we fooled her,” he said, as the pair joined the circling skaters, their hands joined.

Zoey never enjoyed ice-skating as she did that day. She felt totally natural as a girl who had a strong, good looking boyfriend, gliding around the frozen pond in total bliss. She knew that Brett considered her a cute, friendly girl.

As they rounded the far end of the lagoon, a sudden pang of fear hit her. How would she be ever able to admit to Brett that she was not what she appeared to be?