My sister is a bastard.

No, she isn’t a bully. Being a bully would mean that she cared in one way or another about another person. She’s completely egocentric and she does what she thinks is necessary to get what she wants. If I happen to be collateral damage, if I’m hurt or humiliated, too bad. That’s why I was appalled to learn that I was going to spend the summer at the beach in Florida.

I had managed to keep thousands of miles away from my sister last summer. I stayed in my small hometown in Minnesota and while my sister went to visit our uncle and aunt and our cousins in Florida. My best summer ever! Unfortunately my sister also had a great summer. She went away a mostly demure 14 year old girl and returned in somewhat more “advanced” state and very conscious of the fact that the world is much bigger than a small town in Minnesota. This year I was forced to go as well. I was supposed to act as a “sea anchor” for my sister Mary. Not even my parents thought that anything could “anchor” her but at least the drift could be limited. She was told very firmly that she was to include me in all activities and not let me stay alone reading a book. Bummer!

I should be free to do what I want. I was a teenage boy. So what if it was only as of the week before going to Florida?

To make things worse my uncle and aunt were away for the first two weeks. The “responsible adult” in the household was my 20 year old cousin Matthew. Since going to college Matthew had become a devoted convert to Keg-ism. He and, fortunately, his fellow acolytes were never seen at the house except at breakfast (for us)/late evening snack before tumbling into bed (Matthew). Admittedly a zombie stumbled around the house early evenings before heading to another night of devotion to the Great Keg.

This left the rest of us free to do whatever “we” wanted. My sister (15), my identical twin girl cousins (16) and their big sister (17) were not exactly too happy to drag around a much younger nerdy boy. The problems started already the first day. The girls had been invited to a pool party at Marc’s. Marc had been Mary’s boyfriend last summer. Marc and family was part of the beautiful people. No way the girls could come dragging with a small, nerdish boy in tow. The solution was simple. Last summer my sister had got herself a completely new, and much edgier, wardrobe. Since there was no room in the suitcase going home her old clothes were still at my uncle’s house. To my horror the clothes turned out to fit me. With their combined skill (and force) I was turned into a cute girl. Possibly 15 years old. Shy. Not like my cousins but presentable enough at a pool party. With a new name (Heidi), dressed in my sister’s second hand clothes and instructed how to tuck into the second hand one-piece bathing suit we set off.

The pool party was great. At least the girls thought so. Marc’s cousin was there. Like Marc Louis-Philippe had an exotic French accent. A well-developed 17-year old body in top-notch condition, a smile to die for, a father who was the CEO of a modelling agency… Well, the girls were like flies around him. Marc was completely forgotten. A pity, since he was a really nice boy. We talked a little bit, not much though. Since I had no interest in buzzing around Louis-Philippe I spent most of the time just dozing in the sun. I got a baaad sunburn.

With embarrassing tan-lines like that I put up little resistance to don the one-piece (and LOTS of sunblock) when we headed to the beach next day. I have to admit that the girls were much nicer to the girl me. I had forgotten to bring something to read as well as money so they let me have their old magazines and whatever in the way of ice-cream and snacks they didn’t want. I was realizing that this was something that would be the theme for the summer. Second hand clothes, second-hand stuff in general, second-hand experiences. Well, it could have been worse.

That evening we walked over to Marc’s again. There was a standing invitation. Basically it was the same as the day before. The girls tried to impress Louis-Philippe. I and Marc were kind of left out so we sat down and talked. He really was a nice boy. I was not surprised my sister had dumped him. He was just too much the boy-next-door type. After a while we changed into swimsuits. I didn’t want to change with the girls, especially since there were other girls there as well. Marc’s mother understood very well that the shy Heidi wanted to change in seclusion. She told me to use Marc’s room. If only she had told Marc as well.

When Marc entered his room it was a case of full frontal nudity. Embarrassed silence and then Marc smiled. At first the smile was - amused. After I had explained everything the smile became – devious. He explained that my sister really had broken his heart. Worse, he was at a disadvantage socially without a girlfriend to be seen with. He made me a decent proposal. He wanted me to pretend to be his girlfriend. He didn’t really want a new girlfriend. That would hurt too much. He wanted somebody safe he could be seen with without any feelings involved. Being a boy I was safe choice. He also explained that I was cute enough to give him kudos. He was surprised to learn that I was only 13. He explained that no one would believe I wasn’t 15, though a bit shy.

Oh, great! Now I had my sister’s second-hand boyfriend too!

Everybody was happy. Louis-Philippe and Marc became a part of our group, or was it the other way round? We went to the beach together. We went to the same parties. The girls adored Louis-Philippe. Louis-Philippe adored to be adored. Marc had his social credibility. And I? Well, I had to admit that I had much more fun as Marc’s girlfriend than as “the tag-along”. The first time Marc kissed me was a bit of shock though. Marc liked kissing. He was good at it. I kind of liked the feeling of the actual kissing so I didn’t object. However, I never felt anything romantic towards Marc.

I HAD expected the charade to end when my uncle and aunt returned but their reaction was just: “Hey, this works. Why upset people?”

So the lazy summer weeks slowly passed. I had become firmly established as one of the “crowd” we spent time with so even when Marc finally did fall in love, though not with me, things didn’t really change. Marc and I remained very good friends and Marc and Jean-Marie were just the cutest couple.

The local mall arranged a modelling contest. The winner would get a small cash prize but most importantly she would also get a chance to do a professional photo shoot. The girls entered all of us. The contest people did a first casual visual cut and shy, demure Heidi didn’t make it. They wanted 20 girls that could get people engaged and excited. However, they did let me into the changing room since my sister and all my girl cousins had been accepted. The contest had already started when one of the other girls got upset about something and left in a huff. Now they were a girl short. Actually a short girl short. I was there. I was the right size. Yes, I got a second-hand spot in a modelling contest. I was terrified when getting out there. Well, fake it till you make it. I made it. It took only ten seconds and then it felt so right. All the people were looking at ME. That had never happened before. It felt good. It gave me an extra spring in the step. I felt joy and confidence. I radiated joy and confidence. I won.

My sister got second place. She did what she had to do. She said to the contest manager.

“That’s no girl, he’s my brother”

Poof went the photo shoot. I got the cash though. I HAD won the contest. My sister still got nothing. She was really not happy that evening.

Towards the end of the summer adults congregated. Mother got a week to spend with us and Henri, Louis-Philippe’s father, arrived. I had expected him to be a bit sleazy, judging from Louis-Philippe. He turned out to be ok. However, he did have a roving eye. Not in a sexual way though. Even when on vacation he couldn’t help himself evaluating all teenage girls he saw from a modelling point of view. Occupational injury. Since we used to hang around Marc’s pool he saw quite a lot of “us girls”. After the modeling contest I had become much more confident moving around as a girl. I had even got myself a (modest and padded) bikini instead of the one-piece. To tell the truth Henri was more interested in my mother, from a strictly non-professional point of view. Good thing Mum wasn’t interested. I’ll never know if he tried to get on Mum’s good side or he really was serious when he offered me a preliminary modelling contract. Unfortunately he did it one evening by the pool in front of everyone and Sis screamed:

“That’s no girl, he’s my brother”

Dead silence. Everyone looked at me. I did the only thing I could do. I fled.
(For readers with possible triggers: skip until the sentence in bold some 10 lines below)

I ran into the nearby park. A girl in a bikini very like mine ran past me. I could hear someone coming from behind.

“Betty, stop you bitch”

And then I was tackled

“Hey, you’re not Betty! Doesn’t matter, I’ll get me some pussy anyway”

Oh great, even a rape is second-hand. One pair of ripped bikini bottoms later.

“I’ll get me some ass”

That’s when Sis turned up. Sis had taken karate classes and didn’t hesitate for a second. Too bad Sis had only taken a few karate classes. She got beat up pretty bad but she finally managed to hold the would-be rapist down long enough for help to arrive.

“Sis, I’d never have thought I’d say this but you’re my hero.”
“Hey, NOBODY picks on my brother but me”

Somehow she managed to smile despite the split lip.

Next day we were at Marc’s place again. Mary wore some impressive bandages. I wore my old second-hand one-piece again. I had been a girl all summer so I could finish it as a girl. So what if everyone present knew what I had tucked away. Marc came back to the point where I had run away the night before. Henri said it wasn’t possible since I’m a boy. Absolutely NON. Matter closed

Marc turned to his father

“Dad, isn’t Heidi exactly what you have been looking for for that big contract? That sweet innocent young teenage next-door girl with an impish glint in the eye that you haven’t been able to find?

Henri, shouting: “NON, absolument NON! Il est un garçon! Pour cette démographie, IMPOSSIBLE!

Charles, Marc’s father: “Marc, you’ve got a point. Heidi really is what we have been looking for. And if we make sure that nobody knows…”

Henri: “Je refuse. Je n’accepte pas ça!”

Charles: “Shut up Henri. You may be the CEO but I own the agency. And speak English. We are among monolingual Americans. You have to admit that Heidi is perfect for that contract. Strictest secrecy would be required of course”

Henri: “He’s a BOY!”

Charles, smiling: “I’ve always wanted to say this Well, nobody’s …”

Marc: “DAD! Please, not “Some like it hot””

Charles, pouting: “Spoilsport.”

To me and Mum

“Are you interested? If we can convince our customer the job would pay you something like” and then added an absurdly high amount.

Mum looked at me: “Your call Andrew.”
Stunned I nodded my head not really knowing what I was doing.

Charles: “Please, could you find another name than Heidi though. That name haunted my childhood”

Me: “Well, I’d really like to be called …”

Mother: “Stop there young lady. I’m your mother. I name you. If you had been born a girl you’d have been named Amy. And surname: Amstel. You were conceived in a small hotel by the river Amstel on your father’s and my wedding night.”

Me: “MUM, too much information!”

Sis: “and you can’t believe the noise they made. They really had a roll”

Despite clamping my hands over my ears I could hear my mother reply

“Oh, shut up Mary! You were only a year old and sound asleep in your crib. We didn’t even wake you up”

Hey, Sis was born before my parents married. Well, what do you know - she really IS a bastard.