This is the start of an idea for a story, based on "Educating Special Boys in the Feminist Republic" by Torrey Grover. It's about a kid who doesn't really identify as a boy, but also doesn't identify enough as a girl to be brought into the program for "special boys". I'm posting it here in my blog, instead of with my stories, because I haven't heard back from Torrey yet, but I'm also wondering if people think it's close enough to the original story for it to work in the universe Torrey created.

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"Whatcha got there?" Saul asked while slapping my back.

I slipped a pale blue bundle of silky cloth from my sewing table to my bag while regaining my balance, then said, "Nothing."

My friend adjusted his tattered district ID cap, hiding the conspiratorial look he gave me from a couple of boys trudging past us, then whispered, "Ya stealin' another dress?"

"I'm not stealing," I whispered back. "I'm just ... borrowing."

"Ya wanna look pretty for your 'uncle'?" Saul asked, pausing in a meaningful way before saying the last word, then wiggling his eyebrows.

"I don't have an 'uncle'," I said while wrinkling my nose. "You know I'm not like that."

My friend grinned while reaching under my cap, then tugged out my ponytail. "If y'ain't like that, then why don'tcha let your house matron chop this thing off?"

I stepped back, nearly knocking over the sewing table behind me, then said, "I just ..." I pulled my bag onto my shoulder while trying to figure out how to explain how awful the idea of cutting my hair felt, then asked, "What difference does it make to you?"

Saul shrugged and said, "It's no big deal to me." He touched the device attached to the nape of his neck and said, "So long as I got my joy buzzer, nothing's a big deal." He dug into the back pocket of his grungy jeans and pulled out a battered phone, then said, "Speaking of which ..."

I rolled my eyes at the way he'd let the end of his sentence hang, then said, "I'll only have time to tweak the schedule on your buzzer, before our work matron comes looking for us."

He smirked, then said, "That's all I need."

"Fine," I said while grabbing his phone. After accessing the backdoor I'd previously hidden in a list of display options, I asked, "You still sure you don't want me to show you how to do this?"

Saul snorted, then said, "I ain't no girl. I mean, I ain't sayin' you're one, but ... ya know?"

I blushed at the idea of someone thinking I was as smart as a girl, then said, "I know what you're trying to say." I tapped my way through layers of menus until I found what I needed, made a few adjustments, then asked, "You ready?"

My friend held onto my table with both hands then said, "Hell yeah."

A twinge of guilt stirred in me when I hit the submit button. Even though I knew joy buzzers were safer than chem stims, the unnatural bliss on Saul's face looked very ... wrong. I sighed while placing my friend's phone on the table between his hands, then asked, "You gonna be okay?"

After taking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes and nodded, then let the breath out.

I jumped when a stern voice asked, "What's going on here?"

Saul mumbled something I couldn't quite make out. I did my best to cover for both of us by saying, "We were just chatting, and ... ummm ... relaxing a bit, before heading out."

Matron Arbuckle strode over to us, pried open one of Saul's eyes, then said, "The use of recreational-strength stimulants are not permitted during production hours."

My friend muttered under his breath while opening his other eye. His dilated pupils focused on the woman standing beside us as he said, "But ... ummm ..."

When I saw him struggling to speak, I said, "Our shift just ended."

The matron frowned and said, "That may be so," then snatched Saul's phone while saying, "but personal items aren't allowed out at your work station at *any* time."

While I was trying to think of a response, she held the phone a few inches from her face and said, "Initiate recent activity review."

A soft, neutral voice came from the phone. "Biometric scans cross-checked. Security clearance confirmed. Reviewing recent activity." My stomach tightened when the voice said, "Recent activity shows one instance of unauthorized access."

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I was sitting on the hard, wooden bench outside Matron Arbuckle's office when the door opened. Saul looked pale and tense when he was nudged through the doorway by a muscular woman in a district security uniform.

"You're next," the woman said in a strong, commanding voice while tilting her head towards the office behind her.

I dropped my gaze to the polished floorboards between us, gripped the edge of the bench to keep my hands from shaking, then said, "Y-yes ma'am."

Her voice softened when she said, "The matron is waiting for you," before leading my friend down the hallway.

I stood, waited for my knees to stop knocking against each other, then took the handful of steps needed to pass through the open doorway.

Matron Arbuckle folded her hands on her desk and said, "You may close the door," when I entered her office.

After I did as instructed, the uniformed woman standing beside the matron asked, "Are you Evan Strider?" When I nodded, she asked, "Does anyone know you as Evelyn Strider?"

I gasped, then looked at Matron Arbuckle. She swiveled the monitor on her desk away from the other woman, then said, "Officer Linsburgh is fully aware of your past."

I turned my attention back to the officer, and said, "I ... uh ... used to go by Eve sometimes when I was a kid, but nobody calls me that now."

Officer Linsburgh looked me up and down, then asked, "You mean, when you were a girl?"

My mouth hung open, then closed when I remembered what my work matron had told me about the woman standing beside her. After swallowing the painful lump at the back of my throat, I said, "Well, my mother thought I might be a girl, but ... I failed the test."

The officer gave me an intense look while asking, "Which part did you fail?"

"The ... umm ... gender part," I said while looking down at the scuffed toes of my shoes.

After a few seconds of silence, she asked. "Are you saying the test determined you're a boy?"

I shook my head and said, "Not exactly."

"Then why are you looking away from me like one?"

"Because ..." I swallowed again, then said, "Because the test said I wasn't girlish enough."

A couple of fingers touched my chin, then tilted my head up, until I was looking into Officer Linsburgh's warm, gentle eyes. "Evan ... Eve, you're a very talented ... child. I'd like to introduce you to some people who could nurture that talent."

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