Hey girls! It's been a while since I've posted anything here lol. After writing my last story I felt burnt out and life caught up with me quickly. I've been meaning to write more but have been putting it off. I started writing a part 3 to My Mom, My Cousin, and Me, but I didn't like where it was going. I'd actually like to go back to that story and rewrite it from the start, but that would take a lot of time. I decided to write this as a way to get my creative flame back. It's a 2-parter and was very fun to write and lighthearted. And what's best is that it's based on real events that happened to me! I hope you all enjoy this, and I hope you had a happy holidays. Here's to 2024!

When I was a sophomore in high school, one of my favorite classes was AP European History. It was a difficult class, but my appreciation of and willingness to learn history made it more manageable. What also helped me get through it was the teacher, Ms. Booker. She was fairly young - only in her late 20’s or so - and she tried to be the “hip” and “cool” teacher that the kids could relate to. It may have been cringy sometimes, but her enthusiasm for teaching and ability to make it engaging with fun lessons and projects helped me through the difficult subject. Those projects especially helped me out. She was more than willing to give out extra credit for the simplest things, and that padded my grade immensely when I needed it. But it was one particular assignment that has stuck with me since and changed who I am.

It was the first Friday of November, but with the Florida heat it didn’t really feel like fall. AP Euro was my last class of the day, and since Fridays are test days I was mentally preparing myself to take one. The unit we had been working on for the past couple of weeks was the French Revolution, and I was not confident on it. There were a lot of details I couldn’t remember, especially the names, and it felt like we had barely scratched the surface. When I walked in to see Ms. Booker standing at the front of the room, papers in hand, I began to sweat.

“Good afternoon, class,” Ms. Booker said once the bell had rung, “I’ve got a new assignment for everyone. I was supposed to give you guys a test, but we are so far behind in the French Revolution module that most of you would fail anyways. That’s totally my fault, it’s a hard subject and we’ve been taking it slow to make sure everyone can comprehend it properly.”

I could feel a collective sigh of relief throughout the classroom. I was glad to know I wasn’t the only one worried about a test.

“Instead, what I’ve got here in my hands is a new assignment to go along with the rest of the module. You can actually think of it as a project, because it will require a lot of independent research and studying at home,” Ms. Booker stated. A girl in the front of the classroom shot her hand up and started speaking without being called on.

“Will there be an opportunity for extra credit?” the student asked.

“I’ll get to that! I have to explain the actual assignment first,” Ms. Booker chuckled. She held up one of the papers she was holding to show the class. “This is a chart with 24 different names of important people involved with the French Revolution. Everybody has been assigned one of those names, and you’ll see who when I pass these out. You need to know who all these people are, but you especially need to research the name you are assigned. Two weeks from today we will be throwing a little party in here and you will be playing the role of the person you’ve been assigned, but you can’t tell anybody else directly who you are. You must give clues as you speak, and as you guys talk to each other you’ll write down who you think is who on the chart. Makes sense to everyone?”

Everyone nodded in agreement and started talking amongst each other. It sounded like it required a lot of studying, but it sounded a hell of a lot more fun than a test.

Ms. Booker continued, “as for extra credit, there will be a couple opportunities. Firstly, anyone who dresses up as their person day-of will automatically receive extra credit, so anybody who doesn’t dress up can’t come to me later in the semester asking what they can do to boost their grade, okay? Secondly, for everyone who does dress up, we’ll hold a costume contest and the winner, voted on by you guys, will receive additional credit.”

Everyone started chatting excitedly to each other. I was relieved to hear about the extra credit, because if all it takes to boost my grade is to wear a silly costume and do some acting then I’ll be more than happy to oblige. Ms. Booker went around the classroom handing out the papers face down so that nobody could peek and get an early start. It felt like eternity before she got to me, but I did sit towards the back of the classroom.

“Alright, after I tell you to look you’ll be spending the rest of class doing independent studying on your assigned person. You can flip your papers over…. now!” said Ms. Booker.

The sound of papers flapping permeated the room as everyone excitedly wanted to see their role, and I was no different. I scanned the long list of French-looking names until I saw my name handwritten smack dab in the middle of the list, next to a name I hadn’t seen before.

Olympe de Gouges.

Who the hell is that? Even though the French Revolution wasn’t my strong suit, I knew for a fact that wasn’t somebody we’d talked about in class. I saw plenty of names I did recognize, like Marie Antoinette or Maximilien Robespierre. But there was something about this name that just sounded different, but I couldn’t quite figure out why. Everybody else in class was already deep into studying, so I took out my phone and typed the name into Google. My eyes grew wide and I felt a lump in my throat when underneath the name I saw paintings of what was clearly…. a woman.

I quickly closed my phone and looked around the classroom to see if anybody had been looking at my screen, but everybody else was too focused on themselves. I could feel myself getting embarrassed all of a sudden as questions raced through my mind. Why would Ms. Booker choose me for a girl’s role? Sure, my hair was longer than most other boys, and I did have a thin frame, and I did occasionally get mixed up for a girl by strangers. But even with all that, I’m a quiet and polite kid in class, not some class clown who wants to draw attention to himself by dressing like a girl! The embarrassment alone would probably kill me.

I took a breath and mentally calmed myself. Maybe there was just an uneven amount of boys and girls in class, so Ms. Booker had no other choice to give a girls’ part to a boy, and I was the unlucky one chosen. That made the most sense to me, and it’s not like there was much I could do. Besides, it’s not like I have to dress up, since that’s only for the extra credit. After collecting myself I turned my phone back on and continued reading.

As it turns out, Olympe de Gouges was quite famous in her time. She was a writer and political activist with strong feminist beliefs which eventually got her executed in the Reign of Terror. Before the revolution she was a noted playwright and hung out with notable Parisian socialites, and she was even declared one of the prettiest women in all of Paris. However her anti-slavery views and fight for women’s rights made her unpopular as she criticized the revolution, ultimately leading to her death.

I was glad to learn that she was on the right side of history, at least, although with how important she seemed I was shocked I had never heard of her. As I stared at the paintings of her, I became enthralled with her stoic look. She was pretty, but she was strong. I didn’t think I was anything like her, in more ways than just gender. But the more I looked at her and the more I read, I felt butterflies in my stomach. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I was becoming more intrigued by this project.

Before long the bell rang and students excitedly rushed out the room and into their weekend plans. I was slow to pack my things and get up as I saw Ms. Booker sitting at her desk and working on her computer. I waited for most of the students to leave before approaching the teacher with much hesitance.

“Um, Ms. Booker?” I said in a mild mannered voice.

“What’s up, Riley?” Ms. Booker said, looking away from her computer.

“I was just wondering…” I paused my thoughts for a second, unsure of what to ask, “...it’s okay to go all out for our costumes, right?”

“Oh, yeah, who did you have again?”

“...Olympe de Gouges.”

A smirk crossed her face. I felt myself blushing.

“Absolutely, Riley,” she said.

“Oh, uh, thank you.” I quietly said my goodbyes and power walked out of the classroom without looking back at her. Did I really just ask her that? I didn’t even know what I meant by what I said. Something took over me in the moment, like I was trying to get confirmation that I was really given the right person. But I didn’t ask her to change it or ask why she gave it to me. I started to feel those butterflies again. It was almost like - I was excited by the idea of this project. The idea of dressing like Olympe de Gouges. Dressing like a woman. I felt my head spinning as I found my mom’s car and got in.

“Hey Rye, you’re a bit later than usual. How was school?” mom asked.

“Oh, it was good,” I asked, clearly dazed.

“Is everything alright?” Mom put her hand on my forehead, trying to feel my temperature.

“No, mom, I’m fine. Just… tired.” I didn’t like lying, but how could I tell my mom about this? Although, after thinking about it, I would almost certainly have to tell her. For one thing, she would probably have to be the one to buy any costume I may find since I was only 15. And I didn’t know left from right when it came to clothes for girls, so I would need her help anyways. But despite that, I wasn’t ready to tell her.

After getting home I was eager to get my weekend homework done and out of the way. Usually it was so I had more time to relax, but I also wanted more time to do research on Olympe, and without distractions. It was all I could think about while doing my math and science, so much so that it was making it hard to concentrate. By the time I finished everything it was already dinner time and I was called down to eat.

Mom and dad were already eating by the time I got to the table. They were deep in their own conversation, so my mind began to wander. The mashed potatoes on my fork slid off and onto the table without me even realizing.

“Riley, what are you doing?” dad asked in an authoritative voice.

“Are you sure you’re okay, honey? Do you need some tylenol?” mom asked, more concerned than dad.

“No, I’m fine, just tired like I said. I guess I just haven’t been sleeping well,” it was the best lie I could muster up.

“I told you to not stay up too late, young man. You lose sleep and your grades start to slip, too, and before long you’re 35 and still living with us!” Dad was trying to be funny, but no one was laughing.

“I know, I’ll try to do better,” I responded.

“Speaking of, anything exciting or new at school?” Mom asked. I stopped chewing and stared at her for what felt like forever.

“I had a science test today, felt pretty good about that. That’s about it, yeah,” I said, trying to get back to my food.

“That’s good,” mom responded, “what about that history class you’re taking?”

I froze.

“What about it?” I asked softly.

“Well I know it’s supposed to be a hard class, I just want to make sure you’re doing okay,” mom smiled.

“It’s fine, a little hard. But I like it.”

“That’s good. But if you need help with anything it’s okay to ask me or your father.”

I nodded in response and went back to eating. I didn’t want this conversation to last any longer, and mom could tell. She went back to conversing with dad while I silently finished my dinner. I excused myself from the table and rather abruptly went back to my room. I still had a couple hours to myself, and I wanted to spend them studying. I know I needed to tell my mom, but there was no way in hell I could tell my dad about this. He wasn’t super stern, but he had a lot of machismo and I could see him disapproving of the whole thing. After a while I heard a knock on my door.

“It’s mom, I’m coming in.”

She slowly opened the door and walked in, and I quickly closed my computer and textbook.

“Riley, you’ve been acting weird today,” mom said in a concerning voice.

“I swear I’m fine! I just have a lot of studying to do,” I responded by flipping my textbook open to a random page.

“If you don’t want to tell me then that’s fine, but I am your mother and it’s my duty to help you,” mom sat on the edge of my bed, “and if there’s something or someone at school that’s got you acting this way then I have to get to the bottom of it.”

I wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. But she could clearly see that I had something to say.

“That’s fine,” mom stood back up, “but I’m going to contact the school and all of your teachers to figure out what’s wrong.”

She stood up and started walking towards the door. That would be insane of her!

“Wait! Wait! Please don’t call anyone,” I pleaded to her, “just… don’t call anyone.”

“Riley what’s going on at school? Is it a bully? Or are your grades struggling?” Mom asked while rushing back towards me.
“I’ll tell you, but I need you to close the door.”

I explained the project to my mom, and how I was given the role of a girl, and about the costume and extra credit. I could see the concern disappear from her face, and instead be replaced with occasional giggling.

“Oh, so is that it?” mom asked with a chuckle. I nodded, too embarrassed to speak anymore. “Honey, I don’t know why you’re making this a big deal. I’ll gladly help you, but are you sure this is something you want to do?”

I paused before responding. “Yes, I want to do this. But just cause I want the extra credit!”

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed. But alright! I’ve always wondered what it was like to have a daughter, anyways!”

Mom began twirling my hair with her finger before I swatted her hand away.

“But I need you to please not tell dad! I don’t want him to know about this at all!” I pleaded.

“Worried about your father disowning you?”

“Mom please, that’s all I ask!”

“Okay, I pinky promise I won’t. This will just be between us two… girls!” Mom was way too excited to say that, and it only made me more embarrassed.

“So, what do I- or, we do first?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t have anything planned tomorrow. So it looks like we’re going shopping!” Mom got up and kissed me on the forehead and walked towards the door. “We’ll leave after breakfast, and we can just tell your father we’re running errands, okay?”

She left my room. I was feeling dizzy, but I was glad to have gotten that over with. I started to get more excited the more I thought about tomorrow. I had never felt quite like this before, and so many thoughts rushed through my head. I couldn’t believe I was going to go clothes shopping with my mom. Well, I had done that plenty of times. But it was very, very different now. I wanted to continue studying, but it was getting late by this point. I changed into my pajamas and crawled into bed to try and get some sleep before what I was sure was going to be a big day.