Will
It’s not that I’m shy or anything; I just…I don’t like crowds. I feel something like what I imagine a claustrophobic person must feel when I’m in a space with a lot of people. I start to feel uncomfortable, and no one ever comes over to talk to me, and then I feel even more like I stick out. So, if by chance I had come to the event with someone, I’ll often find some excuse to at least wait outside.

Today I was at the school soccer game. My friend, Wendy, was on the team, which is the only reason I was there—to support her. She was quite the athlete. But when the game was over she asked me to wait for her, and when the girls were done cleaning up, she invited me to go to dinner with them.

“Oh, no, thank you, but I, um, have some homework to do.”

“Oh come on, Will, it’ll be fun, and a bunch of us have homework too.”

“Really, thank you, but no,” I said, as I started to edge away. Wendy was looking very disappointed, but resigned, as she always did. And I really did hate to disappoint her. She should be used to me declining these invitations by now. I really don’t know why she puts up with me after all this time. She was always trying to get me to open up and be more social, but I just didn’t have that gene, or circuit or whatever.

I could hear her teammates placating her, as she started to turn back toward them. I think I even heard one say, “I just don’t understand why you like that loser, anyway.” As Wendy started to raise her voice to defend me I slipped out the doors and started home. I had no wish to listen to that conversation. And as usual I felt bad about turning Wendy down for the eight-thousandth time.

Yes, I had a history of just vanishing when there were more people than I felt comfortable with—which did not amount to very many. At a party or something Wendy would realize she hadn’t seen me for a while, and look around for me, but she’d know I would probably be far away by that time.

“But I want to share these times with you,” she’d say.

“Wendy, you’re my best friend—my only friend, but I just get too uncomfortable in a crowd. I don’t want to bring you down or ask you to leave when you’re having a good time.”

She would sigh and say, “Yeah, I know. But I do feel down when I realize you’ve gone.” We had these discussions every so often, so we both knew what the other was going to say.

-o0o-

By the time I got home, it was dark, and I felt kind of tense. My folks weren’t going to be back before midnight, in another four hours or so. I went into my room and turned on the little bedside light, took off my clothes and slipped into my favorite hidden dress. As if it was a magic trick I instantly felt a lot more relaxed. Pulling out my hair elastic, I fluffed my hair up a little. Then I lay down on my bed with my hands clasped behind my head, just thinking about what a weirdo I was. An average student, a loner, but lucky to have one wonderful friend. And then there was this strange urge to wear girls clothes.

Wendy and I had grown up together, across the street from each other, the same age. We were in and out of each other’s houses all the time, especially when we were younger. We just got along amazingly well. There were no other boys my age in a several-block radius, and not too many girls our age either. Our mothers were friends and we played together all the time. Through the years there was never an issue about us being different sexes.

At some point, maybe when we were nine or ten, I started noticing her clothes, and wishing I could wear those kinds of clothes too – they looked like a lot more fun than my clothes. Very early on I realized these were peculiar urges, and that a normal boy wouldn’t be thinking these thoughts. And then, when her body started to develop I was amazed at how strongly her curves appealed to me. Maybe my one concession to my urges was to grow my hair long. It wasn’t until the last year or so that I’d started actually finding clothes of my own.

Wendy was such a good friend to me, defending me when I hardly merited it. She was really smart, and being athletic she could be physical when the occasion demanded. She was on the sports team and had made a lot of friends there, and off the team as well. She was very friendly in general, popular, and yet somehow she never dumped me as a friend. I know she had to get teased by the others for being friends with such a loser weirdo. She still made time to talk to me, and we still did non-dating stuff together. I owed her a lot, and, though a little hard to admit to myself as a seventeen-year-old boy, I really loved her. I hadn’t the slightest expectation that this might lead to a romantic relationship, given our relative social status. She’d be able to do a lot better than me.

I didn’t realize I had actually fallen asleep thinking about all this, but I woke up because I felt someone sit down on the bed next to me. My eyes flew open and I remembered what I was wearing. In the dim light from the lamp I could see it was Wendy! No! No! NO!! She could NOT know about this! She just couldn’t!! I panicked and turned away from her, putting my hands over my face, lying on my side, as if that was going to make it un-happen. Oh my god! This was just too terrible to be reality. Now she’d dump me for sure.

“Will, is this why you didn’t want to come with us?” she asked, ever so gently.

I couldn’t speak, and scrunched myself up a little more. She put a hand gently on my shoulder.

“Please talk to me, Will.”

“I…can’t,” I choked out. “No one is supposed to know about this. Especially you.”

“Why especially me?”

“You’ll…never see me the same way again. You’ll drop me like a hot potato.”

“Just because you put on a dress? I wear them.”

“Need I point out that you’re a girl, Wendy, and it’s kind of expected? Only sick pervert guys also wear them.” I so did not want to be having this conversation.

“You have never struck me as being a sick pervert, Will, and I don’t see why a boy can’t wear a dress if he wants to. Do you want to be a girl?”

“No!! I just…I just like the clothes, and the way they look on girls’ bodies. I know I can never look like that, but it makes me feel good to put the clothes on anyway.”

“C’mon, sit up, Will. You don’t have to hide from me, and I’m not going to stop being your friend, especially because of this.”

Slowly I uncurled and sat up next to her. It was so hard to understand why she was being so nice. She put an arm around me and I leaned my head on her shoulder. Then my head shot up and I asked, “What time is it??”

“It’s 10:30, why?”

“Phew! My folks get home around midnight. I can’t let them see me like this.”

There was a pause, and I relaxed against her again.

“So Will, you didn’t answer my first question. Is this why you couldn’t come with us to dinner?”

Sighing, I said, “No, Wendy. I really do have trouble with crowds. I don’t know if it’s claustrophobia or anxiety or what, but I get very uncomfortable, people sense that and I end up talking to no one at all, and then I start looking for a way to leave.”

“I’m sorry, Will. I know we’ve talked about this before. I wish I could help you to be more social.”

“Maybe I’m just not meant to be a social person? It takes all kinds, right?” I asked hopefully.

“Maybe,” she said. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about this?” she asked, indicating my clothing.

“Are you kidding? What boy is going to tell anyone he likes to wear dresses?”

“Maybe a boy whose closest friend is a girl?”

“I’m sorry, Wendy. If it had gone wrong I would have lost the only friend I have. I just…I couldn’t risk it.”

“I guess I can understand that, although I’m a little disappointed you would think I could treat you so poorly. Hey, where’d you get that dress anyway? It doesn’t fit you very well.”

“I ordered it from an online thrift store. I don’t mind if it’s a little bit big. Better that than too small.”

“You do look kind of cute in it,” she said, looking up and down at me, and smiling.

I blushed. There was no possible way for me to see myself as cute in girls clothes. Or even in boys clothes, for that matter. To my eye I had less than average looks. In fact, I never looked at myself in the mirror while dressed up; it was too disappointing.

“Aw, she’s shy,” said Wendy. She shifted her attention to my face. “I like your hair down like that.”

“Um. Thank you?” I said, a bit uncomfortably.

“So do you have a girl name while you’re dressed?”

“A girl name? No, I never thought of it.”

“Well, for now I’m going to call you Willow. It fits you, since you’re so skinny.”

“I… Well, okay.” I wasn’t sure why I needed a different name. I had no plans to interact with anyone while dressed.

“What other clothes do you have, Willow?”

I dutifully got up and unearthed my other two dresses from my special suitcase. Wendy inspected both of them.

“Not bad, but I think you could do better.”

“Wendy! I don’t know anything about how to pick out clothes! I just chose the ones that seemed big enough and weren’t too ugly.”

“Aha! So you do have some criteria! Let’s see, judging from the little you’ve shown me you don’t like minis, you like a high neckline and an A-line with a full skirt.”

That sounded pretty accurate to me, come to think of it.

“No bras or panties?”

“N-no, I never even thought about underwear.”

“We’re about the same size, Willow. I think I have some things I could give you.”

Thinking about that, I wasn’t sure I had much room to hide more clothes, let alone figure out how to wash them.

“Wendy, that’s extremely kind of you, but I’m not sure where I would hide more clothes, or how I would wash them. Who knows if my mother might come in here and start looking around?”

“Willow, I do want to help you, but you sure don’t make it easy.”

Tears started to fill my eyes.

“I’m sorry, Wendy. You’re such a good friend; I really don’t know why you bother with me.”

She pulled me back over to the bed, next to her, and put her arm back around me. She took my hand with her free hand.

“You dumbbell! I LIKE you! You’re really my best friend too, you know.”

Sniffling a little bit, I looked at her. This might wreck everything between us, and I don’t think I would be able to say it as myself, but…

“I love you, Wendy. You’re probably the best thing that ever happened to me.”

She gave me a big smile. “I love you too, Willow.”

Nothing more needed to be said, but I had the idea that maybe she meant Love in the way girlfriends love each other, and not romantic love. Well, I could live with that. And that me having said it out loud didn’t make her uncomfortable was fantastic.

-o0o-

We lay down side by side on the bed and just talked until 11:30. She needed to get home, and I needed to get out of that dress. We got up, she hugged me like a girlfriend, and then left for home. As I got out of the dress I realized I felt a lot better. My best friend knowing about this, and not judging me took a load off me that I didn’t realize I was carrying.

But…how was this going to change our relationship?

-o0o-

The next day we walked home from school together.

“You know, I really had fun with Willow last night,” was her starting sentence.

“I, uh—Willow had fun too. She’s not used to seeing anybody.”

“Yes, I figured. I think she should come over to my house this weekend, when my parents are going to be out of town. I think I could show her a few things she might be interested in.”

“Ah, okay, I’ll make sure to ask her.”

She grinned at me. “Tell her she doesn’t need to bring anything.”

It was kind of odd to me to have part of myself referred to with feminine pronouns. As I said, I didn’t want to be a girl. Just putting on girls clothes didn’t make me a girl, did it? Well, it wasn’t a big deal anyway. They were just pronouns.

-o0o-

My folks were frequently out late, and also gone during many weekends, so it was no trouble for me to walk over to Wendy’s on Friday evening.

She met me at the door, though each of us usually just walked in to each other’s house, as she had done the other night.

“I’m glad you came, Will. Did you bring Willow?”

“Yes, she’s here somewhere,” I said, checking my pockets.

“Come on in, you goof.”

We went upstairs to her bedroom and she had some lingerie and a beautiful dress laid out on her bed. I wasn’t sure how I felt about doing this, even though I really wanted to. It had always, always been a solitary activity.

“Why don’t you take these things into the bathroom and see if you can find Willow in there?”

I gave her a half smile and took the clothes with me. Not ever having tried on a bra before, I had a bit of difficulty with it.

“Do you know how to put on tights?” Wendy asked from the other side of the door.

“Ah, no, I’ve never tried.”

“Then wait until you’re dressed and do it in my room.”

“Okay.”

I briefly glanced at myself in the mirror, wearing nothing but panties and the bra, but it was enough to discourage me from a longer look. I got the dress on and was able to zip it without too much trouble. I liked how it felt on me. Then I slowly came out of the bathroom.

“Hey, not bad at all!” remarked Wendy.

There was enough room in the neckline for her to reach in and place two so-called chicken cutlets in the bra cups. Then she sat me down and told me how to put on the tights. They felt great!

“Hi Willow,” she smiled. Have I mentioned she has a great smile?

“Hi,” I smiled back.

“Now, we need to do something about your face and hair,” she said.

She brushed my hair and parted it in the middle, “for now,” she said. Then she put a minimal amount of makeup on me.

Appraising her work, she said, “I think you’ll like this look,” and gestured toward the mirror.

I was feeling good, and didn’t really want to spoil it by looking, but I forced my head to turn to the mirror. There was definitely a girl looking back at me. She looked like my non-existent sister, kind of. It was hard to believe Wendy was able to make me look like this with such minimal effort. I got to my feet to get the bigger picture. The breasts really helped the image, even though the girl had no waist and hips to speak of. I was pleased.

I turned to Wendy and wrapped her in a big hug, which might have been our first-ever real hug.

“Thank you so much! I never thought I could look that good. You’re a magician!”

“Nah. I just know how to use makeup and I had a good canvas. You do look hot. So, Willow, is there anything special you’d like to do while you’re all dressed up?”

My mind went blank. I never had any plans when I was dressed. The whole point was always just to wear the clothes and relax.

“No, I, um, can’t think of anything. I usually just chill.”

“Want to watch a movie together?”

“Okay, sure.”

We went down to the den, where a large TV was mounted on the wall, and she picked through some movie titles. She chose “An Affair to Remember.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“It’s an old but good movie. You’ll enjoy it.”

We sat together on the couch and watched it, and I did enjoy it. To my immense surprise I cried along with Wendy at the appropriate moments. When the movie was over I discovered we were holding hands. I looked at her and she smiled at me. I smiled back. Suddenly her expression changed. I got lost in her eyes and, for me, time seemed to stop.

“Come here, Willow,” she whispered, and grabbed my head. She brought us together and gave me a tender kiss on the lips. I melted and put my arms around her, and we just held each other.

“I always wondered what it would be like to kiss a girl,” she said softly.

I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t think of myself as a girl; just a guy wearing a dress. But I didn’t want to say that and spoil the mood, because this felt wonderful.

“Well? What do you think?” I asked instead.

“It was very enjoyable. Let’s do it again.”

And we did. I couldn’t believe I was making out with my best friend. And she seemed pretty enthusiastic. I wondered why we had never thought about doing this before.

She was getting a little aggressive, and soon had me lying under her while she kissed me and petted me.

“You’re very pretty, Willow. I don’t know why I never noticed before,” she said between kisses.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, Wendy,” I managed to get out. Maybe this was more than a girlfriend-to-girlfriend kind of love after all.

-o0o-

Wendy convinced Willow to show up most weekends when her parents were gone. She showed me how to apply my makeup (Yes, I ended up buying my own makeup. There had never been any need for it before.) so that I didn’t look like a clown. This gave a big boost to my confidence, not that I had any idea of going out in public like that! No, but at least now I could stand to look at myself. She also encouraged me to imitate her gestures and be more girly. She made it into a game, and I went along with it. We grew even closer, and I really felt better about myself. After all, I couldn’t be a total loser if I had a girlfriend like Wendy! Because this wasn’t just when I was Willow; she let it be known at school that we were an item.

I really looked forward to dressing up with her, and not just because I needed to relieve stress. She treated me very tenderly when I was Willow, and I basked in her attention.

And then one evening during the early summer it abruptly came crashing down. We were in her den, half-watching a movie, and also kissing, when there was a cough behind us. I was petrified, and couldn’t make myself turn around.

“What do we have here, Wendy,” said her father.

“Oh, Dad, Mom… this is unexpected,” she said, uncertainly.

They came around the couch to face us. I couldn’t look. My life was over now; I could feel it caving in on me.

“Who is your friend?”

“This is Willow.”

“Willow?” said her mother. “Look at me, honey.”

I forced myself to meet her eyes, which suddenly widened.

“Will? Is that really you?”

I couldn’t speak, or nod. But I did see her dad start to turn red.

“Will?! What the HELL do you think you’re doing?” he roared. “I don’t allow perverts in my house! You have two seconds to get out of here!”

That galvanized me, and I was out of there and out the door in probably one and a half seconds. Maybe I was crying—I don’t know. I could hear Wendy start to shout at her dad as the screen door closed and I started to run across the street.

-o0o-

When I woke up I knew I wasn’t in my own bed. Nothing in my room beeped like that. I opened my eyes to find myself in a hospital room. I was very confused. And as my other senses started to kick in, there was some pain, especially in my left hip, but other areas were competing with the hip for attention. What in the world had happened to me? Why didn’t I remember?

Lying there wondering what had happened, the time slipped by. I vaguely remembered Wendy’s parents unexpectedly coming home.

The door opened and a nurse walked in. She was an older lady, with a pleasant face.

“Ah. Awake at last,” she said.

“Am I? I have no idea what I’m doing here. I was wondering if this was a dream, but can you feel pain in a dream?”

“You had an accident, dear, and you were brought to the hospital,” she said, as she checked all the beepy things, and made an adjustment to a drip.

“I did? I don’t remember having an accident.”

“That’s probably a lucky thing for you!” she smiled.

“So what’s the damage?”

“The doctor will be in to tell you all about it.”

“Are…are my parents here?”

“I think they went home to rest. You’ve been out for a couple of days, and they didn’t know when you’d wake up.”

“A couple of days? Oh my god!”

“Now, don’t worry. The body will do what it needs to do to heal, and to protect you. Believe it or not you already look better than when you came in.”

Shaking my head—big mistake—I said “I have no idea what I look like.”

“All in good time, dear. Just rest.”

She left the room. I lay there, trying to get my head around the idea of having been asleep for two days. I started to feel a little odd, like the pain was still there, but I just couldn’t be bothered to care about it. My head was feeling a little fuzzy now, and my eyes were closing…

-o0o-

“Will?”

Who was that? It sounded like Wendy. With great effort I managed to pry open my eyes. Wendy was standing next to the bed. She looked kind of awful, like she hadn’t slept, and her eyes were on the red side.

“Wendy. It’s nice to see you,” was what came out of my mouth.

“Will, I’m so sorry. I was so angry at my dad that I actually shoved him back into the wall.”

“Why did you get angry at your dad?”

There was a pause while she processed that question.

“Will, do you remember anything about what happened the other night?”

“Um, I remember we were watching a movie and your parents came home. That was unexpected, right?”

“Yes, they weren’t due home until the next day.”

“I think that’s all I can remember until I woke up here not long ago.”

“Well, let me just tell you that you ran out of the house and were hit by a car when you crossed the street.”

My eyes widened. Hit by a car?

“I don’t remember that at all, Wendy.”

“I’m kind of glad. I wish I didn’t remember it. I yelled at my dad, then started out the door to find you when I saw the car hit you. It was really awful to watch.”

“Why’d you yell at your dad, anyway?”

“Oh, let’s talk about that later, okay? How are you feeling?”

Side-tracked easily, I thought about it for a minute and said, “Oh, well, I have some pain, but I might be doped up, so it’s not bothering me right now.”

“I’d give you a hug, but I’d be afraid of hurting you,” she said.

“What about just a kiss then? Unless my face is all monster-like?”

She smiled. “No, you just have a big bruise.” She leaned over and kissed me, which brought a dopey smile to my face.

-o0o-

Once I was back home, several days later, Wendy told me about that awful night. We had been sitting watching a movie and kissing some, and her parents arrived home a day early. Her father had called me a pervert for some reason—I guess it was because I was kissing his daughter?— and I had shot out of the house and been hit by the car. When I got up and started running, she had really screamed at her dad, and even shoved him into the wall. She was still not happy with him. Her mother was much more understanding, and didn’t think my “offense” had been worth him yelling at me and calling me a pervert. She wasn’t too happy with him either. He was definitely in the doghouse.

Her mom had called my parents to let them know what had happened. They had rushed back to be by my side.

Oh, I was told I had some broken ribs, and my pelvis had been cracked. The rest was mainly bruising. So I was taking it easy for a while, like maybe two months’ worth or so. I was supposed to use crutches to walk, and was on painkillers. Since it was summer break Wendy visited me every day.

One day when she was visiting she asked me something confusing.

“Do you think Willow will be coming around anymore?”

“Willow?” I didn’t have any idea who she was talking about. “Who’s that?”

“You, you don’t remember Willow?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Um, no. Should I? The name doesn’t ring a bell. Who is she?”

“She’s a…a really good friend. Wow, I am really surprised you can’t remember her.”

I thought some more, and my head started to ache, making me wince.

“No, sorry.”

She smiled kind of half-heartedly. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

-o0o-

Wendy
When Will said he didn’t know who Willow was it broke my heart. I really wanted to kill my dad at that point. I went home and found my mom in the kitchen.

I started to cry as I told her this latest development.

“He doesn’t remember being Willow at all!”

“Why is that so terrible?”

“Because I love her! It’s like dad killed her!”

“Oh, honey, sometimes memories resurface after a while. For right now his brain might be telling him that it’s too traumatic to remember. I am just a little confused though. If you love Willow, doesn’t that mean you love Will?”

“Well, yes, I love Will, but Willow is different, kind of like a different person. I don’t want to lose her.”

“He did make a pretty girl. Whose idea was that anyway?”

“He had dressed on his own in order to relax, but I helped him do a better job of it once I found out.”

“I see. Listen, for now just go with what he does remember. If it looks like he’s starting to recall some of that on his own you can encourage him in subtle ways.”

“Thanks, mom. What’s going on with dad?”

“Well, I think we both made it clear to him that he’s not our favorite person lately. He and I have talked and I was surprised I never knew about this homophobic attitude of his. It’s not very attractive. But he does feel bad that his actions resulted in harm to another person. It was an overreaction of epic proportions.”

“I’ll say!”

“So we’ll have to see what kind of conclusion he comes to on his own. In other words, the next move is his.”

The other unspoken thing was that, of course Will’s parents were told how he was dressed when he had been brought to the hospital. They didn’t seem terribly upset about it, my mother said. They were encouraged to let Will bring the subject up by himself.

-o0o-

It was hard for me to live in the same house with my dad. I spoke to him as little as possible, and I know mom was treating him sort of coolly. He looked like he felt guilty, but I was still waiting for something to come out of his mouth, like, for instance, an apology.

One evening when I came back from visiting Will, he was sitting there, and asked if we could talk.

“What do you want to talk about?” I asked, rather testily.

“Would you please sit down first?” he asked, in what I considered a humble tone. I sat down across from him.

“I know you and your mother are not happy with me right now, and I want to apologize for what I said to you and Will.”

“Are you sorry just because of the way we’re treating you, or have you realized your actions were way out of line, and really homophobic?” I wasn’t pulling any punches here.

“I’m sorry about all that. I hardly realized I was that kind of guy. I didn’t think I was, until the situation was right there in front of me. Then I just let those attitudes take over. I truly am sorry I yelled at Will, and that he got hurt.”

“I think he needs to hear an apology from you too, only he doesn’t seem to remember much of what happened that night. And I am still really angry at you because right now he can’t remember that he is also Willow, someone I really cherish.”

“Willow? Oh! Yes, his female name.”

“If that part of him never comes back I am going to find it hard to ever forgive you.”

“I’m very sorry this happened, Wendy. I don’t know how to make amends.”

“You might consider some education about LGBT people!”

I could see his eyes flash briefly, but he mastered it.

“You are probably right. I will look into that.”

I got up and went into the kitchen. Mom was moving around in there. She put a hand on my shoulder.

“I think you did very well in there, honey,” she said softly.

-o0o-

I started to wear some of the dresses Willow had worn when I went to visit Will, hoping he’d recognize one and start to remember. So far he would just smile and tell me I looked pretty. One of the dresses had a taffeta skirt to it, and I remarked to him how nice and soft it was. I took his hand and rubbed it on the fabric. He got a kind of faraway look in his eye.

“Doesn’t that feel nice, Will?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“The inside feels really good against your skin too.”

I could tell something was going on inside his head. His expression kept changing.

“What are you thinking of, Will?”

“I’m not really sure. Somehow that fabric brings up some kind of images, or feelings, but I can’t really tell what they are.”

“Well, don’t push it. They’ll come to you in time.”

He shook his head a little and smiled at me. I smiled back, but I still felt that empty feeling, as if Willow had died, and it was hard not to cry.

A few days later I wore a different dress, and we were in his bedroom, where he was resting on the bed. He complimented me as usual. I decided on a different approach today.

“Will, what are your thoughts about girls clothes?”

“Um, what do you mean?” he asked, looking just a little bit guilty.

“I mean, do you like the way they look? Do they seem like they would be fun to wear?”

“Uh, well, um, sure, yes. They look very nice,” he said very nervously.

I went to his closet and pulled out the suitcase with his three dresses. As I turned back toward him I could see all color had drained from his face.

“Wh-what are you doing with that?”

So interesting that he could remember this, but not the rest of it!

“Aren’t these your three dresses?”

His mouth dropped open. “How…HOW in the world do you know about that?”

I sat down on the bed, next to him, just as I had when I first discovered Willow, and put a hand on Will’s cheek.

“Will, I know all about this. We have shared many nice times together.”

“We have?? I don’t understand.”

“Will…” How could I put this so that it would be easiest for him? “Will, you know that you were in an accident, and part of it was a bang on your head, right?”

He nodded.

“You seem to have forgotten all about this part of you and me. I so wish I could help you remember.”

He looked as if his head was hurting, and he lay back on the pillow.

“You…know about this, and you’re still my friend…” he said, with wonder.

“More than a friend, really,” I said, stroking his cheek.

He closed his eyes, with his brow still knitted, as if he was in pain. He was silent for so long I wondered if he’d fallen asleep. I sat there gazing at him, the ticking of the hallway clock the only sound.

“Willow,” he whispered.

“Yes!” I couldn’t believe it.

His eyes opened back up, and he looked at me with a bit of confusion.

“I am Willow?”

“Yes, you are,” I said, with tears brimming.

“We would… dress up and watch movies together?”

“Yes!”

He looked at the ceiling for a while, as all the pieces kind of reassembled themselves in his head. Then he looked back at me.

“I can’t believe I couldn’t remember all that!”

“A bump on the head can do that to a person. Now do you understand why my dad yelled at you?”

He shrank a bit. “Yes. He called me a, a pervert and told me to get out. I told you right at the beginning I was a pervert.”

“No, Willow. Not at all. You’re a boy who is expressing his feminine side. That’s all.”

“How can I ever face him again, Wendy?”

“For one thing, you’ll have me with you, and I won’t allow him to mistreat you. For another, I have told him he needs to apologize to you. If he hadn’t yelled, you wouldn’t have run out and gotten hit.”

“But your parents both saw me in a dress! I don’t see how I can ever look them in the eye again,” he said, a little tearfully.

“Willow, you have to believe in yourself. You have a right to wear what you want and not be ashamed about it.”

“Oh man! That is so much easier to say than to do! My own parents don’t even know about it.”

I gave him a look.

“They don’t…do they?”

“Oh Willow, they were told how you were dressed when you were brought to the hospital.”

“Oh my god,” he said despairingly. “So wait, they knew all this time, and they haven’t said anything!”

“I think they’re waiting for you to say something first. And they didn’t go ballistic when they were told. That’s good, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so. But, it is SO hard for me to know that other people know about this. I feel like it will mean my life is over.”

“No, your life is just starting. Our parents knowing about this side of you will mean you have more support. You don’t have to hide all the time.”

He thought about that for a while.

“I love you, Wendy.”

“I love you too, Willow,” I returned. I leaned over and hugged him. “And I am so glad you’re back! I really, really missed you.”

He was silent as he tried to understand what that would mean in his life. I lay down next to him and put my arm across his chest. We just lay there, giving each other support and love. He seemed to fall asleep.

I heard a little noise at the door. His mom was peeking in. I looked over at her and she gave me a thumbs up and a smile. “Good work,” she mouthed. I smiled back.

-o0o-

After lying there for a half hour or so, just enjoying the feeling of our bodies being close together, I managed to extricate myself without waking him up. I tiptoed out and closed his door, then went to find his mother.

“I take it you were listening.”

“Yes, sorry about that, but it was a conversation I kept hoping for. You did a wonderful thing, Wendy.”

“Thanks. I just told him the truth, really.”

“You two have always been friends, but he’s been so closed up, and unhappy-seeming, for years. Since you two really got together I can see a difference in him. Maybe he’s not exactly more outgoing, but I can tell he is happier, and I know it’s due to you. Can you tell me how it started?”

“Um, you know, I should probably let him tell you himself.”

“I can respect that. Just know that I’m grateful to you.”

We hugged each other and I went back home in a really good mood. My girlfriend was back! She would have a lot of work to do and things to come to terms with, but I would help her with all of that. I was so happy!

The End.

Author’s note: This is one of those stories where I just kept writing to see what would happen. Maybe some of the medical stuff is fantasy, but I’m okay with that! I also had to post it or I would have kept changing little things until the cows came home and were asleep in the barn.