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Author's Note: Hi, This is the second story I've ever written. It's still incomplete. I hope you like it.

Feel free to archive or otherwise distribute, provided it (and this preamble) is unedited and no fee is charged for access. This story may not be distributed from any site that charges money, is members-only, or uses that ridiculous "adult check" thing (or any similar system).

All rights reserved by the author, who can be contacted at: [email protected] ~Becky

Image Credit: Picture purchased and licensed for use from 123RF.com Stock Photography.

The model(s) in this image is in / and are no way connected with this story nor supports nor conveys the issues and situations brought up within the story. The model(s) use is solely used for the representation of looks of the main character(s) of this particular story. ~Sephrena
 

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Chapter 7.  Late Sunday Morning
 
 
I woke late, and lay in bed for a while contemplating the events of the previous day. I wondered what Mom was going to say today. I wondered what I was gonna do about my hair. And my eyebrows. When I raised my hands to brush my hair away from my face I remembered I still had painted nails, too. Eventually I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. For some weird reason I sat down to pee. It didn't even occur to me that I was doing it until I'd almost finished. I guess it was because the t-shirt was almost as long as the dress I'd been wearing the previous night.

I went downstairs to the kitchen and poured myself some orange juice. I was standing looking out the window when my Mom came in. "Good morning," she said brightly.

"Hi Mom," I said in a similarly cheerful tone.

She put some coffee on, and came over and gave me a hug. "How are you this morning?"

"Pretty good, I guess"

"Ah, the joys of youth!" she smiled. "I remember when I could stay up all night and be bright the next day, too. Enjoy it while you can!"

I smiled. She wasn't so old, really, but she joked about it a lot. She handed me a croissant and pointed to the butter and jelly on the table. I sat down. She poured us both some coffee and sat down across the table from me.

"I have to go across to Megan's today," she said. "Do you want to come?"

"Okay," I said without thinking. Megan was my mother's sister, about ten years younger and a lot of fun. She lived with Mark, who was a famous photographer. They were both very arty and liberal and lived in a really cool house right on the beach down in LA. "What time are you gonna go?"

"Did you know you're still speaking differently?" my Mom said softly. I stopped buttering my croissant.

"Really?" I said, and realized she was right. I was still speaking the way Marcia had taught me yesterday. Wow. How did I usually speak? I tried to remember. "Um, I don't know ..." I cleared my throat, and spoke in the deepest voice I could. "Is that better?"

My Mom laughed. I laughed too. I sounded like I was a girl imitating a guy.

"I guess it will come back eventually," I said.

"Interesting," my Mom said. She reached across the table and touched my hair. She was about to say something when there was a knock at the kitchen door. It was Marcia.

"Hi Mrs. Miller," she said nervously. "I just came to see, uh, Chris for a few minutes. Is that okay?" She was carrying another shopping bag, which reminded me of my clothes. Whatever had happened to them? They hadn't been in the car when we'd gone to the party last night.

My Mom let her in, and offered her some coffee. Marcia sat down while my Mom poured it. She looked at me for a sign as to how things might be. I didn't know what to say, so I looked at the table for a moment.

"You did a nice job on her hair, Marcia," my Mom said as she handed Marcia the coffee. I looked up. Mom had said "her." Marcia looked at Mom, too.

"It did look pretty good, didn't it," Marcia said hopefully, as though unsure of my Mother's state of mind. She looked across at me and smiled. "All it really needed was a bit of tidying up."

"Well, the color's better, too," said Mom. "You did a much better job than I did when I cut it."

I sat back and pulled my hair up behind me, wanting to hide it from view a little. Mom looked over at me and winked. "I just have a couple of phone calls to make, I'll leave you two alone," she said.

After she'd gone Marcia looked across at me inquisitively. "Well?"

"Mom was pretty good, I guess."

"What did she say? What's with this "her hair" stuff?"

"She was pleased I had a good time"

Marcia looked at me strangely. "Your voice ..."

"Yeah, I know. Maybe it'll gradually go away."

"So she didn't go apeshit about Paul?"

"No. I don't think she was really crazy about that, but she just said she wanted me to be happy."

"Wow." Marcia sat back in her chair. "That's pretty wild."

We discussed the events of the previous day. I admitted to Marcia that I'd enjoyed it a lot, more than I really cared to tell anyone else.

"I meant what I said yesterday," Marcia said quietly, "about you seeming more comfortable as a girl"

I looked down at the table, then back at her. That wasn't exactly what she'd said yesterday, but I knew what she meant.

"Anyway, I just came over to see how you were doing. And to see whether you wanted to come to the dinner I'm having next Friday night."

I was surprised, she'd mentioned it a lot before but never in the context of me being invited. "Um, sure, that would be great," I said.

"I was thinking we could make it ten people instead of eight, and maybe" her voice dropped a little "you could ask Paul if he'd like to come."

"Uh." The penny dropped. "You're inviting Jenny, not Chris."

"Um, reality check, I hate to break it to you, but you still look a lot like a Jenny, and you're still acting that way," she said.

"Bigger reality check -- I'm a boy," I said.

"Well," she said, "Whatever you say. Let me know in a day or so, okay? If you want to come the offer stands. It would be really cool. And Mike told me Paul is really aching to see some more of you."

"I bet he is," I thought. I wasn't sure more of me was necessarily a good thing.

"Anyway," Marcia said, "in the meantime I thought you might like to experiment a little more, and I bought you some things you might like to borrow." She handed me the shopping bag, which was full of clothes. I looked at her with some surprise. "Or not, whatever," she said. "I gotta go, my Dad wants to take Rob and me to see the car he bought yesterday, he's like totally overwhelmed by how great it is." She shrugged. "He's okay for a dad, really, and I like to make him feel happy at times like this."

"Thanks," I said, still holding the clothes. "Uh, and thanks for a great day yesterday"

"That's okay," she said as we both stood. She opened the kitchen door, then kissed me on the forehead. "I like having you for a girlfriend, it's like having a little sister," she said as she turned and left.

I went upstairs and put the bag Marcia had given me on my bed. I went back to the bathroom and had a shower, tying my hair up to keep it from getting wet. As I showered I thought about Mom's behavior so far this morning. And Marcia's. They seemed to want me to continue being Jenny. That was a surprise, especially Mom's attitude. I had to admit to myself that life seemed a lot better to Jenny than it did to Chris. And I had enjoyed the attention from Paul. I was embarrassed just thinking about it. Would I have enjoyed it as much from a girl, say Marcia? I supposed I probably was queer. Uh. Great. That was gonna make me a whole lot more popular at school if anyone found out. Not.

But then I thought girls were neat, too. So I couldn't be queer. Could I?

I thought about what my Dad would say if he could see me now. I shuddered. That was not something I wanted to think about any more than I had to.

When I got out of the shower I brushed my hair out thoroughly. It still looked very feminine. I decided to wear it in a ponytail, that seemed appropriately androgynous. But when I tied it back I noticed the bangs Marcia had given me framed my face and made me look very girlish. Maybe it was the eyebrows. I went back to my room to dress.

When I got to my room I noticed my Mom had unpacked the bag Marcia had given me. She'd laid out some of the clothes on the bed. I presumed this was some kind of a hint. What the hell, I thought. If she wants to explore this a little further, why not? I picked up the underwear, a pair of white cotton panties and a white cotton bra. Then I noticed the fake breasts, lying on the t-shirt. I looked around, and noticed Mom had hung the black dress I'd worn last night up in my closet. Mom had definitely decided she liked me better as Jenny, I thought. I wondered how long that was gonna last. I put on the bra, and put in the jelly inserts, then looked at myself in the mirror on my closet door. The bra was a little big for the breast inserts, but there was no doubt about it, I looked like a young girl again. Maybe a little underdeveloped, but I sure didn't look like a boy.

I put on the remaining clothes, a pale blue t-shirt and a short dark blue skirt and ankle socks. In front of my closet on the floor were a pair of white sneakers. I was standing looking in the mirror again when my Mom knocked on the door. She smiled when she saw me. "I always wondered what it would be like, having a daughter," she said. I went over to her and hugged her. Then I burst into tears.

"Hey," she said. "We can't have that. Don't you like it?"

"Yes, Mom, but that's the trouble. I like it a lot," I said. "I only just realized how much."

"Well, then, that settles it for today," she said, drying my eyes. "You look beautiful, so long as you don't cry."

She took me into her room and let me use her mascara, which I applied very sparingly. She told me I didn't need anything else at my age. Then she gave me a casual purse she thought was young enough for me, and a thin gold bracelet with a diamond pattern on it. "This was my mother's" she said quietly. Finally she popped two thin gold rings in my ears, which were still hurting from yesterday. "And these were the first bits of jewelry your father gave me, when I was seventeen," she said. I hugged her again, and thought maybe I was going to cry some more. She hugged me back, and said in a no-nonsense way "Enough. There are things to be done today."

She made me hand wash the bra, panties and pantyhose I'd worn the previous night, then gave me some nail polish remover and helped me get the polish off my fingers and toes. She didn't like the color, which she thought was "cheap," but she said I could wear another sometime. Mom rarely wore it herself, so there wasn't any in the house fresh enough to use.

Pretty soon we were on our way to Megan's. I hadn't asked Mom what she thought was gonna happen when we got there, what she thought Megan and her boyfriend Mark were gonna say when they saw me. I figured she must be pretty confident they'd be cool about it. In the car the sun on my legs felt great, and I put the seat back and stretched them out a bit, taking a little snooze for the hour or so the trip took. I woke up about ten minutes before we got there, which was enough time for me to get really nervous about the way I was dressed. I really liked Megan, she'd always been really good to me, especially since Dad left, and I was a little scared of Mark, although I really didn't know him very well.

Finally we reached their house, which was down right on the beach, built out on poles over the sand with a breathtaking view of the breakers a few yards away. As we stood at the front door my Mom gave my hand a squeeze, then Megan opened the door and smiled warmly at both of us. "How are you both? How was the trip down?" she asked.

We went in. I could tell immediately that one of the calls my Mom had made earlier that morning was to Megan, because she was expecting me as Jenny and didn't miss a beat when she saw me. She just acted like I'd always been Jenny. Which was cool. I really liked that. I didn't want her to make a fuss or anything.

We went and sat out on the balcony, overlooking the beach. Two people were walking along the sand in the distance, but otherwise it was deserted. It was a wonderful place, and I said so to Megan, even though I'd been there several times before. Mom and Megan began chatting about things, about how life was going for each of them. Megan had a new job as an assistant to some guy in the movies, which she was enjoying although she said the guy was a dork. As she was saying this, Mark came out onto the balcony. He nodded to Mom as he said hello, and was about to say hi to me when he just stopped. "Wow," he said, looking me over. "I was prepared, but not for this."

I blushed. Megan said "Oh, Mark, calm down." My mother smiled, and Mark looked a little embarrassed.

"Sorry," he said. "I was just kind of expecting a boy in a dress, if you know what I mean." Mark was always kind of blunt about what he thought. "I guess I better make some lunch before I embarrass myself further, huh?"

He smiled at me and I felt better. He had a great smile. I'd never noticed it quite like that before.

We had lunch, a chicken salad with some great Italian bread. Afterward my Mom asked Megan whether it was okay to have a look at the things they'd discussed, and Megan led me inside to the bedroom. There were two suitcases at the end of the bed, with a lot of clothing folded in them. "I wasn't sure," Megan said " whether you and I would be the same size. I think some of these might need to be taken up a fraction, and one or two might be a little sophisticated for someone your age, but ..."

I looked at the suitcases. My mother frequently called Megan a "clotheshorse" behind her back, she was always dressed in the very latest fashions, and clearly spent almost all her meager paychecks on clothes -- but then, as she said, she was an L.A. girl. I turned and gave her a hug. I was a bit overcome. My Mom looked on, and smiled at Megan and thanked her for me.

"Well, see what you think," said Megan.

I picked up an item which had been neatly folded. It was a little creased, but not too badly. I held it up to myself, feeling more than a bit self-conscious. It was a blue and yellow silk dress, with short sleeves and a thin tie at the waist, and it felt fantastic. My mother looked more closely at the label, and then shook her head. "We can't take this, Megan. It's very sweet of you, but this is a $400 dress." I looked at the label. Calvin Klein.

"Yes, but it's two years old," Megan said. "And to tell you the truth I'm a little too meaty for it. You know how Kate Moss looks great in that stuff? I'm no Kate Moss. I don't know what I was thinking when I bought it. I've only worn it once. Besides," she added "Mark gets some of these for me for free when he does commercials for them, so they don't all cost us that much."

My mother was unconvinced, and made a remark about being the only one in the family who didn't get to wear designer fashions. We went through the rest of the clothes in the cases, mostly skirts and tops and a few dresses. Almost all of them were outrageously expensive. My mother vetoed one dress as being way too much for a teenager, and I could see that another would be a problem because it had a very low back and I wouldn't be able to wear a bra with it, but everything else was amazing.

"I wish I could fit into this stuff," my Mom said more than once. I started to feel guilty, until Megan told me that we had to have some kind of fashion show. So they went back out to the balcony, and I changed into one outfit after another and promenaded out to show them. I started with the plainer stuff, feeling very self-conscious at first but relaxing as I went along. When I went out in a red shantung minidress my mother immediately vetoed it, but I could see Mark's eyes never left me the whole time I was out there. I realized I liked that. The next outfit was a black miniskirt and pale blue blouse, and I acted a little flirty, immediately sorry for it because Mark became hugely embarrassed and Mom gave me a look of strong disapproval. Megan laughed and laughed.

Most of the clothes got Mom's seal of approval, and so Megan and I went back in the bedroom and folded them up and packed them neatly in the suitcases. Megan looked at me, then hesitated, then put the shantung dress and the Calvin Klein in, too, underneath everything else. I grinned, and she held her finger in front of her lips to indicate that I mustn't say anything. Finally Megan gave me a pair of black pumps and a pair of strappy black sandals. They were a tiny bit tight, but Megan grinned and told me a girl had to suffer for her art. We both laughed.

Before we left Mark and Megan had a quiet conversation in the kitchen while Mom and I enjoyed the sunshine outside on the balcony. He carried the suitcases out to our car for us, and said goodbye as soon as he'd loaded it in the trunk. Mom gave him a brief hug, and he said something quietly to her. He looked at me hesitantly, then I gave him a small hug, too. He went back inside as Megan and Mom were saying their goodbyes. I hugged Megan, thanked her profusely again and then got into the car while they talked quietly on the other side of it. I figured they were probably discussing me, but I was pretty worn out and I just wanted to sit down. I heard my Mom say "as long as it's not weird" and "we'll have to discuss it," but that was about all I got.
 
 

 
Chapter 8.  Sunday Evening
 
 
"So you told Megan about me this morning?" I asked my Mother as we drove back. "What did you say?"

"I told her last night, when I got back from the Wilson's. You gave me quite a shock last night, you know, and I had to talk to someone. We decided this would be a bit of an experiment," said Mom, keeping her eyes on the road. "That you had a couple of things to work out. You've always been very special to her, you know."

"Megan's pretty cool," I said.

"Anyway, you know I can't afford to buy you clothes, and I'm not sure I'm all that happy about you borrowing Marcia's, so..."

"Marcia's okay, too," I said. "She doesn't mind. I think she's got even more clothes than Megan. She brought these clothes over today, I didn't ask or anything."

"I know," said my Mom, "but it's better if you don't have to borrow things from her. Mind you, we still need to get you some more casual clothes from somewhere, all that stuff of Megan's is a bit dressy."

"So, is that what this is, an experiment?"

She looked across at me quickly, then back to the road. "I suppose so. I did a lot of thinking last night, after you went to bed. I know you said you hadn't done this before, but there have been a lot of times I've wondered whether you were really happy being a boy. When you were younger ..." she cut herself off, and started again. "I thought as you grew up you'd settle down, but ..." She looked back at me quickly. "Anytime you want to stop this, just tell me. If you think you've had enough, just say so."

"Okay," I said. "I still feel kind of odd from time to time. You know, because I'm a boy. But somehow the world seems easier to be in. I feel like I fit into it better." I was wondering what she meant by all that stuff about when I was younger. "Does that make sense to you?"

"I think so," Mom said.

"Uh, good," I said, "because I'm not sure it does to me, really." We both laughed.

When we arrived back home there was a message on the answering machine from Paul. He sounded terribly polite. It just said that he'd had a lovely time last night, and he'd call again soon. As I heard it I thought once again about the way he'd made me feel last night, and I got goosebumps. Mom smiled softly as she watched me listening to the tape.

I took the suitcase upstairs and unpacked it, making sure everything was neat and well-hung in the closet. I couldn't believe that Megan had so many clothes she'd get rid of things like this. Mom came upstairs and gave me a couple of other things, some cleanser for my face, and some body lotion. Then we went downstairs and had a light dinner.

After dinner I helped her with the washing up before I broached the subject that had been nagging at me all day. "Mom, what am I gonna do tomorrow?"

"I've been thinking about that. I don't think you can go to school with your hair like that. If you want me to I can try cutting it shorter. But that will be the end of your experiment, I think."

I wasn't sure I wanted that, but I couldn't think of what else to say.

"Or you could just skip a bit of school for a while, until we work things out," she said. I smiled.

"I didn't think it would upset you too much to do that," she laughed. "It's okay, your grades are good. Maybe just for a short while."

So that was that. Mom had obviously decided that everything was up to me.

At that moment the phone rang. I picked it up, and heard Paul's voice at the other end. "Hello, Jenny?"

I didn't answer straight away. My first though was 'Jenny?', my second was 'Omigod it's him!'. I leaned against the refrigerator, and slumped down until I was sitting on the floor.

"Yes," I said. "Hi Paul."

I looked across the kitchen at Mom, who was putting saucepans away. She tried to suppress a smile.

"How are you."

"Great. How was your day?" I felt extremely self-conscious. My heart seemed to have a life of its own, and I tried to relax. I don't know whether Paul sensed my nervousness, or whether he was just being nice, or (this didn't occur to me until much later) maybe he was nervous himself, but we carried on the conversation in fairly stilted language for a few more minutes, until my Mom left the room and went back to the living room.

Then I relaxed and we talked for a while. Not about anything important, it was just chatter. I asked him what he was doing for the week, and he mentioned that he was going down to LA to interview for an internship at some magazine. I told him Mom and me had been to visit my aunt down in LA, and we'd had a great day. Eventually he asked me how long I was going to be staying in Santa Rosita! I'd forgotten that my 'cover' story had been that I was only visiting! Hurriedly, I told him that I really didn't know, but that we'd probably be here for a week or so while my Mom interviewed.

We talked some more, and he asked me if I'd like to go out on Wednesday night after he'd come back to town. When the phone call had begun I had decided that I'd say no, because I was scared of going out on a date with him again. I liked what had happened at the party, but... it just didn't seem very sensible to risk it again. But as we talked I was thinking of the way he'd looked at me the night before, and how nice he'd been when we first arrived at the party. I liked it that he wanted to be with me, and that he thought I was attractive. I realized as I was talking to him that I was falling for some hopeless romantic ideal that wasn't real, but the part of my brain that deals with rational thought had obviously gone into the living room with my Mom to watch the movie. So I said yes.

He seemed very pleased, and told me it would just be a casual night, maybe dinner and a movie, he'd pick me up at 7.00. As we were saying our goodbyes he sounded nervous again, as he told me he'd really enjoyed seeing me the night before, and was really looking forward to Wednesday.

I looked at the phone when I hung up, trying to work out what I'd just gotten myself into. Then I noticed the clock on the microwave. We'd talked for over an hour! I went back to the living room, and Mom gave me a little smile that said she knew exactly what I'd been feeling. Looking at her I all of a sudden felt very confused about what I'd just done. "Mom, is it okay if I go to the movies with Paul on Wednesday night?" I blurted out.

"Do you want to?"

"Yes." I paused. I think so... I said yes.

Mom looked at me seriously. "Is he a nice boy?"

I wondered about that. He'd been very nice to me so far. But I knew he wanted more from me than just a kiss. "Yeah, I guess so."

"What will happen if he finds out you're ... not really a girl?'

"I don't know, Mom. I don't want to think about that."

She looked at me thoughtfully, and said "Well, I want you to be careful. I'm really not sure this is a good idea. It can't lead to anything good... But I guess Megan's right, I'd worry as much if you were a girl."

"Thanks Mom." I made a mental note to phone Megan and have a talk to her. She seemed to be playing a big part in all this.

We didn't say anything for a while, and watched a pretty awful movie together. Halfway through I started feeling a little cold, so I went upstairs and got a sweater Marcia had given me in her parcel of goodies earlier in the day, a light cotton one with a pretty detail around the neck. When I came down again Mom smiled and said "there's one other thing that happened today."

"Which was?"

"Well, I'm still not sure about this, because I think it might be going a bit fast, and I'm not even sure if you'd want to."

I was curious, and trying to think about all the things that had happened today.

"How do you like Mark?" Mom asked.

"Megan's Mark?" I said. "He was pretty nice today, I thought. Considering the surprise. In fact, he was much nicer to me than he usually is."

"Mark had a little talk with Megan after he saw you today," Mom said, "and he thought you were quite the beautiful young lady. He asked Megan if she'd ask whether you might pose for some photographs for him. Tasteful ones of course, nothing, you know ..."

I didn't say anything. At that moment I knew we'd entered some strange parallel universe, and some dwarf that spoke backward was gonna enter the room and do some David Lynch thing.

"I said I wasn't sure," Mom said. "I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it. But Megan was terribly good to you today."

"Um -- he wants to photograph Jenny, right?"

"Yes," said Mom. "Fully clothed, of course. He is a terribly good photographer, you know. Megan thought you might think it was fun, something to remember this little experiment by."

I thought of the photographs Marcia and I had taken yesterday. I already had a record of all this. And I wasn't sure I was confident enough to have 'serious' photos taken. "Uh, I don't know why he'd want to. He takes photographs of thousands of beautiful girls," I said. "I mean ..."

"I'm sure it will all be okay," Mom said.

"Okay then," I said. I still wasn't sure why Mark wanted to, but Mom was right, Megan had been great today. And Mark had been very nice, too.

As I went upstairs later that night my head was spinning a little bit. I brushed my teeth, put some peroxide on my earlobes where they were pierced, cleaned my face and took off all my clothes. Somehow my body seemed kind of weird and unformed once I took off all the underwear and the fake breasts. I pulled the t-shirt on again and got into bed. Idly I touched my chest, near where Paul had tried to touch it. I wondered what it would feel like, if he could. Then I wondered why I was thinking about him so much. It was just because he was the first person to like me sexually, wasn't it? Shaking my head, I tried to put him out of my mind and eventually went to sleep.
 
 

 
Chapter 9.  Monday to Wednesday
 
 
Next morning I woke at my usual time, then remembered what Mom had said and rolled over to go back to sleep again. But a few minutes later Mom knocked on the door and came in when I didn't respond. She sat down on the end of the bed and shook my leg under the covers.

"Just because you don't have to go to school doesn't mean you don't have other things to do," she smiled.

I tried to squash the pillow down over my head, as though I wanted to go back to sleep, but she pulled the sheets back and slapped me on the ass. "Up!" she commanded before she left the room. I got up and went to the bathroom to shower. When I came back I saw she'd laid out some more clothes for me on the bed. I looked at the black skirt. Somehow I really felt like wearing a pair of jeans today. Maybe I was getting tired of the experiment? I put on the skirt anyway.

My hair was more difficult to do anything with. It was a bit flat on one side, and looked as though I'd slept on it strangely. I tried to brush it out, but that seemed to take out the curls that had remained from when Marcia had done it. Eventually I gave up, and figured I'd ask Mom to help me with it, so I tied it up behind my head. Strangely, even without make-up, I still looked pretty girlish. I stopped trying to figure that out and went downstairs.

Mom told me she had to go out for a while, but that there were all sorts of things that needed doing around the house while she was gone. Inwardly I groaned, but I knew it was only fair. I usually helped out with most of the cleaning around the house, and I hadn't been doing my fair share over the past few weeks, so after she left I set to work. I had the house looking pretty great by the time Mom came back.

"Time to go shopping," she said, as soon as she'd come through the door. I was puzzled. Wasn't that what she'd been doing? She got me to go upstairs and put on some mascara, then took my hair out and re-brushed it before putting it back in a headband instead of the ponytail I'd been wearing it in. Then we set out.

We went to a nearby Mall. As we entered I saw two guys looking me over, and I smiled to myself and ignored them. I felt good about the way I looked, and I'd stopped being afraid that people were gonna think I was a boy. Well, at least for the time being. It seemed everyone was pretty clueless as far as that went.

Mom took me immediately to a store that I knew Marcia shopped at for a lot of her casual stuff. We browsed through a few racks of clothing until I realized she was actually planning to buy me a few things. I protested that we didn't have the money, and she told me not to worry about that, that she'd been out taking care of that earlier in the day. I protested a little more when she told me to go try some stuff on, but I needn't have worried too much as all the cubicles in the fitting room had little latches on them so no sales assistants could burst in while I was dressing.

We left the store with a couple of pretty nice casual blouses and tops, two casual skirts and a sweater. I was worried about where this money was coming from as we sat down to have lunch. I was pretty hungry because I'd skipped breakfast, so I was tempted to have a burger, but Mom saw the look in my eyes and ordered salads for both of us. She laughed when she saw my slight disappointment, but told me that having to watch one's weight was one of the things about being a girl that wasn't so easy.

I noticed the boys I'd seen as we entered again. They were across the mall pretending not to be looking. I mentioned them to Mom and she stole a quick glance. "Kind of dorky," I said dismissively, and she laughed out loud.

"Well, aren't you the choosy one" she smiled. I blushed again, and we began talking about how teenage boys could be so awkward and transparent in the way they related to girls. The conversation was kind of weird, really, because neither of us even considered the whole time that I was a teenage boy. I enjoyed talking to Mom about it, though. She told me about her dates before she met Dad, and how dumb some of the guys had been, and how she probably settled on him because he was the first guy who had been able to look her in the eyes instead of the breasts. I could kind of understand that, because Mom was pretty stacked, but it was funny the way she talked about it.

We lingered over lunch. It was a rare thing that we ever ate out. I didn't know what Mom had done about our money situation, but she obviously wasn't worried about it and I decided not to ask so she could enjoy lunch.

Mom told me she had an interview for a job early next week. I told her that was great, though I was secretly worried that it would be like the others she'd interviewed for and she'd be disappointed when they gave it to someone else. Not that Mom hadn't been great at her old job, but when you've been out of work for a while maybe it's harder to convince people to hire you. That's what Mom had said a few weeks earlier, anyway.

While we were in the middle of talking about the job she was going for she suddenly looked at her watch and said we had to get going. I went off to the ladies room while she took care of the cheque. I felt a little self-conscious about going in there on my own, but only for a second.

After I came out she bustled me off to the other end of the mall. As we walked I realized what was happening. She was gonna take me to the salon to have my hair cut! I looked at her questioningly. "Marcia did a good job," she said, "a very good one considering, but I think you could do with a little more style if you're going to keep doing this."

"But Mom, Marcia only cut my hair in the first place because we couldn't afford to get it cut!"

"Well, now we can," she said firmly as we entered the salon. "Besides, I made appointments for both of us when I called. If I'm going to make an impression at this interview it's time I had mine done as well."

I tried to act as natural as I could as the girl in the salon greeted us. Surely someone would notice I wasn't a girl in this kind of environment if I had my hair all wet? Mom squeezed my arm gently to reassure me.

A short time later I was sitting in a chair, under a wrap, as the stylist ran his hands through my hair. "You girls, you always wreck your hair so with the bleach," he said in what I thought was an unutterably affected French accent. I had to keep from laughing.

He misunderstood my smile, and said "It's no laughing matter, we will have to give you a treatment before we can do anything else."

His name was Claude, though I didn't believe that for a moment. "Well, that was okay," I thought. My name wasn't really Jenny. That made us about even. And obviously Claude was clueless about me pretending anything. I relaxed and enjoyed the fussing.

A long, long time later Mom and I emerged. Mom had to wait a while for me, because Claude decided to be very fussy over the way he restyled my hair, complaining all the time that whoever had cut my hair last had been very sloppy. I decided I'd have to share this with Marcia, but only if I could imitate the way Claude said it exactly.

Mom looked great, and she seemed to feel so much happier. Her smile increased when she saw me. Claude had made my hair shorter, but had styled it so that it flipped a little at the ends and looked more sophisticated than the way Marcia had first done it. It was more Alicia Silverstone than Tori Spelling (thank goodness!). It looked like money had been spent on it, and it shone fabulously.

Before we left the mall Mom took me to the lingerie department of one of the bigger stores. She successfully discouraged the sales assistant from helping us, which I was relieved about, and we bought a couple of bras and a half dozen panties. I was beginning to get more than an inkling that Mom was secretly enjoying my "experiment."

That night I cooked dinner, reasonably well I thought. At least Mom was polite enough to be appreciative. As I was going to bed that night she gave me a hug and told me she'd had a lovely day.

Tuesday passed fairly uneventfully. Marcia came over in the afternoon. She was pretty impressed by my hair, which I'd managed to do in the morning much more successfully. We talked about a lot of things, but eventually of course the conversation came around to the fact that I still hadn't stopped being Jenny. Marcia wondered why my Mom was taking it all so well.

I told her truthfully that I had no idea, but that -- from being in tears originally -- Mom had seemed to come around entirely to liking 'the experiment'.

"You seem to have adapted to it pretty well, too," Marcia remarked, one eyebrow raised.

I was shocked. Was she disapproving? If she didn't like it, how come she'd invited me to dinner later in the week? My fear must have showed, because she hugged me and told me that anything I wanted to do was cool with her. "But we should talk about it when you feel you can," she said.

I started to say something, and she cut me off. "Not now, when you've had some time to absorb all this. Okay?"

I showed Marcia some of the clothes that Megan had given me, and she was knocked out. She tried a couple of the dresses on, too. She looked great in the red shantung, but she was a little big in the chest for the Calvin Klein, which definitely looked better on me. It felt funny, to think that, but it was true. Was I terribly vain?

We sat in my bedroom for a few more hours, talking about the things we always talked about. As she was about to leave to head home for dinner, she brought the conversation around to the subject of Paul. I admitted that we were going to see one another the following night. Marcia hugged me and told me to take it easy with him. I assured her I was going to be very, very careful.

As she was leaving, I was already getting nervous about what I'd agreed to with Paul. Part of me wanted to see him again, but another part of me was convinced I was gonna pay for all this eventually.

Wednesday evening rolled on. By mid afternoon I was really nervous. Mom didn't help, I could tell that even though she seemed to like everything else she still wasn't crazy about me going out with a boy, though I did notice a wry smile every now and again as I worried aloud about what he was going to think of me and what I'd wear and an endless supply of trivial matters. Paul had said he'd pick me up at 7.00, and I had chosen what I was going to wear by 3.00.

Then I put all that away, and chose something else.

Then I put everything away again, and decided I wasn't going.

I was on the verge of calling Paul when I realized I didn't have his number.

That was stupid of me.

I rang Marcia to see whether she had it, and of course she came straight over to talk me into going out.

It was 6.00 by the time I agreed, and 6.30 by the time I was out of the shower.

I took off my robe as Marcia chose one of the skirts I'd bought on Monday and a satiny dark blue blouse. She turned around with the blouse and saw me standing clad only in my bra and panties. I could see her look me up and down, and I immediately tried to cover myself with my hands. I guess she'd noticed that there wasn't any bulge in my panties. In a rush of fear about what would happen if Paul found out, I'd taped my penis back after the shower before I put on my underwear. It wasn't exactly comfortable, and I hoped desperately I wouldn't have to go to the bathroom, but I felt safer. Marcia was about to say something after she looked at my crotch, but instead she thought better of it and smiled at the way I was covering myself.

"Don't be embarrassed," she said. "I saw you like this the other day, remember? I'd just forgotten how great you look." She walked over and poked the jellied pad that was substituting for my left breast. "These look kind of real from a distance. Feel pretty real, too. You're gonna do fine, don't worry." Then she kissed me again, lightly, on the lips. "You really are amazing, you know that?" she whispered.

I dressed, and Marcia helped me with some light make-up. "There," she said, combing my hair and pinning it up on one side. "You're gonna kill him."

"I just hope he won't kill me," I said nervously. My confidence seemed to be evaporating.

"Jenny," Marcia said, looking me squarely in the eye, "everything is gonna be just fine. Didn't you have a great time with him the other night?"

I admitted that I had.

"Well obviously he had a great time with you, too, or else he wouldn't have asked you out. He thinks Jenny is great, and you seem to be very good at being Jenny. So just be Jenny tonight, okay?"

She was right. The doorbell rang, and Marcia led me down the stairs. "I'll slip out the back, okay? Have a great time!"

Mom had answered the door, and was showing Paul into the living room as I entered from the kitchen. They both smiled as soon as they saw me, and I immediately felt better. Paul told my Mom where we were going, and promised to have me home by midnight. He was very polite, and he looked great, and I could see my Mom was even a little impressed. She gave me a light kiss as we were leaving, and whispered softly "be good!"

"I didn't know that was your Mom on Saturday night," Paul said, as he opened the door of the car for me. "I would have been a lot more polite to her if I had known."

"It's okay. She had a headache then anyway, she wasn't really up to chat or anything," I said, trying to slide into the seat gracefully, and being careful not to wrinkle my skirt. I was still a bit nervous, but as Paul got into the driver's seat he smiled at me and I felt much better. Before he started the car he leaned across and turned my face toward his, and kissed me. Any thoughts I had about not wanting to be with him evaporated. It was the lightest, most gentle kiss I'd had so far, and a little buzz of electricity went through me.

Why did I like this so much?

We went for pizza before the movie. I let Paul do a lot of the talking over dinner, while I picked at my one piece. I could hear Marcia's voice in the back of my head telling me to eat like a lady.

Paul was really interesting. Most of the guys I knew at school seemed pretty dorky to me, although I'm sure they thought I was the all time misfit champion of the world. But Paul was interested in other things besides sports and cars and computer games. I asked him how the internship trip had gone, and he said he liked it a lot and thought they might accept him. The work would be very menial, just gofer stuff, but it was a highbrow magazine, about art and style, and he was very impressed with some of the people they had writing for them. He told me he wanted to write for a magazine like that someday.

I just enjoyed hearing him speak. We went on to the movie, which was a French film about a woman who loses her husband and has to find a new life for herself. I'd never seen a subtitled movie before, but I was surprised how easy it was to read the words and still see what was on the screen. Paul put his arm around me as the movie began, and I snuggled into him as much as I could considering the arm of the seat got in the way. Throughout the movie he stroked my shoulder and neck lightly, which I loved. If I hadn't been engrossed in the movie I probably would have started purring.

Midway through the film I reflected that so far our date hadn't been anything like what I'd expected. From stories I'd heard at school, I knew that most guys thought going to the movies was just an excuse to feel a girl up; the movie didn't matter at all. I wondered momentarily why Paul hadn't tried to touch my breasts yet. I could feel his hand resting on my shoulder, his fingers only inches from my left breast as he caressed me gently, but he made no move to go further.

I became involved in the movie again, and eventually found myself crying, which was strange as I never cried a lot in movies before. Paul looked across at me when the credits were rolling and smiled at my teary face illuminated in the glow from the projector. Then he leaned across and kissed me again as the house lights were coming up.

After I'd been to the ladies room and repaired the damage to my make-up, the two of us walked the length of Main Street and back, holding hands and talking. The moon was still bright, and it was a quiet night now that it was late. We got back to his car and he kissed me again before I got in.

I was getting better at kissing, I thought. Or he was doing something that was relaxing me more. I liked the feeling when he held me. I liked being with him. Everything felt so ... alive, so bright, so good. I'd never felt so good about being with someone.

He drove me back home, and we sat in his car after he stopped the engine. He reached over to me, and I to him, and we kissed some more. I put my hand on his leg, then I felt his hand go to my breast for a moment, and cup it lightly. All of a sudden I wanted my breasts to be real. I wanted him to like them, to like me.

I caught myself, then. What was I thinking? I stiffened and he moved his hand from my breast to my face before pulling away slightly.

"I ... I have to go inside," I said abruptly.

"Just stay a few minutes longer," he said softly. "I'll walk you to the door."

He put his hand on my knee, and began stroking my leg, too. "You're beautiful. You know that," he whispered.

I blushed, though he probably couldn't see it. We kissed again, and again, and I felt his hand go to my breast once more. He was about to slide his hand inside my blouse when my hand inadvertently brushed past his crotch as I was moving it from his leg. I felt the hardness of his erection, and I started. He sighed, kissed me again, and then I decided it was time to get out of the car.

He walked me to the door and embraced me. "I have to see some more of you," he smiled. "Before you go."

I smiled back, unsure what to say.

"How long will that be?" he asked, with a strange look in his eyes like he was talking about something else.

"Uh..." I was unsure what to invent, so I tried a diversion. "Marcia's having a dinner on Friday and she's invited me - would you like to take me?"

"Okay. It's just next door, isn't it?"

He remembered from Saturday night.

"Yes," I said, "but it would be..."

"I can walk with you," he smiled. "Again."

And with that he gave me a final kiss and hug, and walked back to his car. I opened the door to the house, and stood in the doorway until he drove off.

The light was on in Mom's bedroom as I walked past. She called to me, softly. I went in, and saw that she had been reading, waiting up for me. I sat on the edge of her bed, and then flung myself at her and burst into tears. I was so confused. I had just had the best time of my life, nerve-wracking though parts of it were. I was deliriously happy, but part of me knew that everything wasn't real, it was just crazy. So I cried and cried.

Mom held me till I stopped crying. Then she made me get undressed down to my underwear and get into her bed. She went to her dresser, came back with some cleanser and removed my make-up, then held me again, still without saying anything, until we both went to sleep.
 
 

 
To Be Continued...