This is the third and last of three connected stories begun in ”Mousy Trap”.

I was riding my bike along the creek close to our new house. I really wished that I could get a new bicycle but Father had this rule that for anything non-essential, but that he approved of, I had to pay half. That was about the only thing that had remained the same since that drunk driver had smashed into the driver’s side of my parents’ car. My mother passed away minutes later. Both Father and I had been devastated. I had never been close to Father but we drifted further apart. We tried to go on but at last we both realized that we couldn’t stay in that town. Too much reminded us of HER.

We moved to a new place. New town, new house, new job for Father, new school for me. I was a bit nervous about starting a new high school as a sophomore in a few days. Not that I had had many friends in my old school but not knowing anybody was a bit daunting.

Recently I had prioritized a new computer. I could have waited for another two years until Father had decided it was essential for me to have a new computer but I had wanted the better performance now so I was stuck with this old bike. I was riding on a path along the creek. The creek was struggling to perform its duty to lead away the water from the heavy rainfall the last days. In front I could see that a pond had emerged where a culvert under a road had insufficient capacity. A boy, around 6 I guessed, was playing alone there. I don’t know exactly how it happened but there he suddenly was in the water being dragged to the culvert that now was below surface. I managed to get to him in time and up on land. Now the difficult part started. How to calm him down, how to make sure that he’d be more aware of risks in the future and how to handle those while at the same time not crushing his sense of adventure, curiosity and all that. I think I sat there for almost an hour talking with the boy. I have to admit it made me feel better as well. Perhaps for the first time since I lost Mum I felt good.

My problem was not only losing Mum. I had come out to her only a few days before the accident and she had handled my revelation that I’m really a girl and not a boy very well. I had been reluctant to tell Father but Mum had persuaded me. We had planned to do that the night of the accident. Now – there was no way I’d approach Father about this. He hurt too much. I couldn’t add this as well. Besides, as I said we weren’t really that close.

My new high school surprised me. People were friendly even to a new kid. Politeness and respect among people. Both ways between teachers and students. No graffiti, no vandalism. Most amazing of all there were practically no bullying. I soon learned it something to do with the former and present student council presidents. Strangely enough they were known as Tom Boy and Jane Girl. Not Tomboy and Janegirl. Jane Girl was nominally a girl named Jane but in real life was very masculine and the star of the basketball team. Not captain, he preferred to make room for others to develop, as had Tom Boy. Everyone told me how great he was and how much the school owed to him and Tom Boy.

Keeping a low profile was easy, I thought. I didn’t want to be bothered and signaled that and people respected that. I didn’t want to get involved in anything. I had enough problems as it was. My grief for Mum was eating at me. At times I thought to come out to Father only to reject the idea a few minutes later. I was not a happy camper. Not that it was obvious to other people. I did fairly well in school. I didn’t cause any problems. I participated in sports and other activities to the minimum expected. I became the perfect mouse.

However, mice can get into everywhere and be unnoticed. One day I overheard a girl that had some problem. I realized I could help her and did so without anyone noticing. It felt good, just like with the little boy at the creek. Every now and then occasions like that turned up. On one occasion a poor kid who had had his bike stolen somehow found himself the unexpected owner of my old bike at a bargain price. I had managed to save up for half a new bike and since Father approved that I got a new bike... As I said, I acted on those occasions, always making sure no one suspected me. I wanted no one to intrude on MY problems.

One lunch break nearing Christmas I was surprised to notice that my privacy at the small table I usually had to myself was invaded by Jane Girl. I asked him what he wanted. I was shocked by the answer

“I intend to groom you”

Was the school hero some kind of pedophile?

“Got your attention didn’t I?”
He smiled and continued
“I intend to groom you to be the next student council president”

I was shocked. Why me? He couldn’t have chosen anyone worse for the job. And the arrogance to think that the position was his to give away!

Half an hour later he had convinced me. He had got me to realize that the present state of the school wasn’t a given and could deteriorate quickly without “Maintenance”. Jane Girl was happy that the real heavy work had been done by Tom Boy but there was continuous work needed. People that had to be nudged a bit to realize their potential, teachers that needed to be reminded not to abuse students and so on and on. The Principal was an ally but that was not enough. Tom Boy and Jane Girl had shown how much of a difference the student council president could make. Jane Girl was worried about who would come after her.

I had wondered “why me?” It turned out he had observed the incident at the creek, especially the talk I had with the boy where I hadn’t tried to quash his spirit. He had also noted that the day after there was a grid over the culvert opening. My innocent pleasures at school hadn’t gone unnoticed either. How naive I had been to believe that! And then he gave me the final shock

“There is another thing. If I’m right I’d like you to be my date at the prom.”

“I have to clear that with Father.”

That night at home I entered Father’s study with trepidation. As usual he was sitting there reading a newspaper in dead-tree format. He seldom lowered the newspaper even when speaking with me.

“Father, I have been asked to the Prom”

“O tempora, O mores. When I was your age it was the boys who asked the girls. Who is the lucky girl?”

“It’s the student council president”

“Funny, I thought that was a boy”

“He is, Father. I will have to get a prom dress”

For once Father lowered the newspaper and looked VERY carefully at me. Then he raised the paper again.

“I’ll pay half”