In My Sister's
Footsteps

This is a story about true identity and the healing of the transgender mind

Blazing a new trail is difficult for a young burn victim, but he manages well enough with support from his mother, some unusual help from his sister, and a little luck.

Chapter 31: Boy Crazy
Chapter 32: Gaydar
Chapter 33: The Long Coming out
Chapter 34: Birthday Girl
Chapter 35: Heartburn
Chapter 36: Solstice Rendezvous

In My Sister's Footsteps
by Terry Volkirch

Part 6 of 8

Chapter 31: Boy Crazy

I spent most of my free time on Monday tracking down Bobby Hanson, starting with a quick scan of the yearbook in the library before school started. My yearbook had been lost in the fire so I had to go to the library.

I'd gotten dressed and did my makeup in record time that morning, and then raced to school with 15 minutes to spare, all to see a boy. I must have been insane.

I'd been to the library countless times when students had been wandering about, but never before had it seemed as dull and lifeless as it did that morning with no one around. There were a series of small reading rooms that connected to the main room, but most of the library took up a single large, square room with a stained beige carpet, dirty white walls and a parallel pattern of unpainted wood shelves. Could they make the place any less interesting? It was no wonder that students at my school hated reading. The room cried out for bright colors and a more random pattern of shelving, perhaps closer to a maze, just to make things interesting. Anything would be an improvement, really. The place had no soul.

I suppressed shouting out the unflattering remarks that perched on the tip of my tongue as I riffled through the paper card catalog. I distracted myself by just thinking how sad it was to still have the primitive paper cards in the modern age of computers. It was sad but not surprising given the school's obvious tight budget.

With little time left before my first class, I found the yearbook. The latest one was from last year of course, since the school hadn't yet published one for the current year, so I'd only have a year old picture to go on. That didn't bother me, but the photo would also be very small -- about the size of a postage stamp -- and would most likely be unflattering. Virtually all class pictures were unflattering. I stubbornly continued anyway, and scanned the pages until I found my target, which I found with about five minutes to go. I saw his face and felt completely ... underwhelmed.

The photo of Bobby scored a big zero on the heart flutter scale, but at least it gave me an idea of what he looked like. Seeing him in person and a year older might make a difference, so I kept looking in the hallways, the lunch room, everywhere I went. He might not have even come to school that day but I kept an eye out for him. I had to see if there was any spark between us, if I had any chance of finding someone to distract me from Tracy. I could've easily found another girl that I found physically attractive, but I thought a boy would be a better choice.

I hadn't forgotten about the one major memory conflict that I hadn't confessed to Doctor Franklin. Even after a few months, I still felt a little awkward in the girl's locker room because of my attraction to girls. I'd liked girls for years but I hadn't ever felt awkward in the locker room until I got out of the hospital. It didn't make sense and it scared me more than I liked, whenever I dared give it any thought.

If I found a boy I liked, I thought I might get over my problem. Relief could be just a heart throb away and I could laugh at myself for ever liking girls. It had to be a phase I was going through, and all I had to do was find Bobby and my troubles would be over.

I walked to my English class then, and I tried to lose myself in the wonderful world of words, but I failed. Not even Mrs. Flaherty's loud, annoying voice could break through my wall of thought as I kept thinking about Bobby.

Hunting for boys never proved difficult in a school full of boys, especially when they were just reaching that tender age where girls began to catch their eye, but the idea of hunting for one particular boy stressed me out. There were protocols to follow, lest I be forever attached to the boy before I ever set eyes on him. If I asked around, everyone would think I *liked* him, and we'd be thrown together by the court of public opinion. Just the mere thought of it made me queasy.

I found myself far ahead in English and Bobby constantly invaded my thoughts, so I used the time to brainstorm and come up with a plan to find him.

Waiting to catch a random glimpse of a boy who could've moved and gone to a different school was a brain dead move. I was smarter than that. Looking him up in the school records sounded promising until I realized that I had no idea how or if I could do that. I didn't want to get in trouble, but I needed some source of information.

"Just ask someone," a voice said. It took a few seconds for me to realize that it was Michelle.

"Hey! Hi Michelle."

"Hey. Just ask a boy if he knows where to find Bobby."

"I can't do that. You know. People will think I like him or something."

"Duh. Say you owe him some money or something."

"That's stupid." I couldn't think of any reason why I'd ever borrow money from a boy, especially one that I had trouble finding.

"It was just an example. You need to give some innocent reason why you're looking for him so they don't think you're *after* him."

"Yeah. You're right."

"I know. Now stop worrying and let me rest. You're driving me crazy."

"Sorry! Thanks, Michelle!"

She left as quickly as she popped into my head. I hadn't heard from her in weeks and she only drops in to help me because I'm driving her crazy. That was just like a sister, I thought with a smile.

So my plan was nearly complete. I needed to form an intelligent question and I needed to start asking it.

But why just ask Boys?

"Because girls will see through you like glass!" Michelle sounded like she was shouting from another room. "Now shut up!"

Sheesh. What a grouch.

My inner tomboy pleasantly surprised me. She sounded more energetic than ever, even if she was grouchy. It appeared as though there was hope for her after all, hope for us both.

***

The bell rang to signal the end of third period and I didn't waste any time. I took to wandering the halls during lunch. Food could wait.

"Excuse me," I said to a tall, slender boy drinking at a water fountain.

One boy looked pretty much like all the rest to me, except in terms of height and weight. I noticed that police always described suspects in terms of height and weight so I liked to keep in practice. It always paid to be observant.

The boy looked back at me, waiting for me to finish speaking. It would've been nice if he'd acknowledge me with a word of encouragement, but at least he had the wit to know I had more to say.

"Can you tell me where I can find Bobby Hanson? I'm supposed to pass on a message to him." That seemed innocent enough.

"Never heard of him." With that, the boy stalked off.

Okay then, I thought. Next!

I went on to the next boy, and the next after that, until I came to a tall, athletic looking boy with black hair. He looked a little familiar to me. I thought I remembered seeing him on a sports team, even though it seemed unlikely that I'd have noticed him.

I gave him the same little script and he shrugged. I turned to go then. I thought he was yet another lost cause, but he surprised me.

"Hey," he said. "You're Beth Wagner, right?"

"Yes."

"Oh yeah. I'm sorry about your brother. He was cool."

"Thanks. I was quite upset when it happened but I'm okay now."

"Cool." He paused a short time but he looked like he wanted to say more, so I waited.

"Yeah. You know ... the team misses him. He was a really good shortstop."

So that's where I must have seen this boy. He was on Mike's baseball team.

"I know. Whenever I watch a game and the shortstop makes a good play, I think of Mike." My eyes got a little moist then.

"Hey. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I fended him off and changed the subject before I really did cry. "So what's your name?"

"Oh! Right. I know you but you don't know me." He chuckled. "That's awkward."

Good. He recognized an awkward situation. There might be hope for him.

"So?" I prompted.

"Oh yeah. I'm James. James Weston."

"Nice to meet you James," I said, holding out my hand, which he took and gently shook once.

His name sounded a little pretentious to me. Why James and not Jim or Jimmy? I'd give him the benefit of the doubt though. He seemed harmless enough, and I suddenly wondered whether I just made a new friend.

Chapter 32: Gaydar

I did eventually find Bobby, but not for actually trying. I'd given up on him after I met James. Bobby and I just passed in the halls one day and I recognized him. There was still no spark and I didn't give him a second thought. I was too busy with my new friend.

James and I did hit it off, thanks to my extensive knowledge of baseball and our common memories of my brother. We ended up spending a lot of time together at lunch, and I went to watch him practice and play a few home games.

I found him to be very nice, and a good friend, and though I desperately looked for it, there was still no spark. If anyone would get my attention, I thought it would be someone like James. He was kind, athletic, and got fairly good grades. He wasn't a big dope like so many of the jocks.

Tracy seemed to like James too, and she silently congratulated me when I introduced her to him. I think she thought we were becoming an item.

Not likely, I thought, as I stared at her when she wasn't looking. She still caught my eye like no one else.

I hid my attraction to her very well, but one thing I couldn't hide from her was my lack of attraction to James. James and I were nothing more than good friends and everyone knew it.

"Beth?" Tracy asked me one day when we were alone at lunch. "Are you and James ever going to get together?"

She was so sweet. She tactfully inquired about James and me to make sure I wasn't interested in him, and it was obvious why she did it. She wanted a chance at him, and I suddenly felt sick.

"Beth? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Tracy. I'm fine, and you're right about James. He and I are just friends. He's available."

Her face lit up, just as mine darkened. I knew what was coming next, right after she made sure I wasn't too sick.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," I said. "I think I just ate something that disagreed with me. I'll be fine."

"Okay. If you're sure." She looked concerned for a moment, and then I saw the question that I dreaded, forming on her face.

"Well ... will you ask him if he likes me? Please?" she pleaded, as much with her eyes as with her voice.

Of course I couldn't say no to her. I caved in to her right away, though it still took awhile to get an answer from James. It took me a long time to work up the nerve to ask him, and when I finally did, I got quite a big surprise.

"Oh ... right," he muttered, after I'd asked him if he liked Tracy. "You don't know. How could you? It's not something that I generally announce to the world. Some people can't handle it."

I wanted to ask him what he was talking about, but then it hit me. He was like me. I mean ... he was gay.

"Oh," I said in response. "It's okay. I don't mind. Really."

"I kind of figured that," he said with an enigmatic smile.

"Really? Why?"

He ignored my questions and went straight to the heart of the matter. "Does Tracy know how you feel about her?"

I'm sure I stood before my friend with an open mouth and wide eyes, looking like I'd been hit over the head with a large rubber mallet. He knew! Though I suppose I wasn't careful about letting the rest of the world know how much I worshipped Tracy. I wouldn't let her catch me staring at her but as I thought about it, I'm sure James would've noticed. I didn't think to hide it from him.

James didn't wait for an answer. He gently pressed on.

"She doesn't know, does she." It was a statement of fact, not a question.

I shook my head to confirm what he already knew.

"You should tell her, you know," he told me quietly.

I wondered later if his advice was from personal experience or just a guess, but I was too busy freaking out at the time.

"No way!" I raised my voice, and then caught myself. "I couldn't do that."

"She doesn't like girls then?"

Once again, he got it right. I don't know why we were even having the conversation. He didn't need me. I could just crawl away and hide under a rock and he could continue as if nothing happened.

"I'm mostly sure she doesn't," I said, "but I can't help hoping there's still a chance."

"Yeah," he said with a wry grin. "Been there. Done that."

"You?"

He nodded, and he launched into a long discussion about his past. He'd had crushes before, and he'd experienced what he swore was love. When he kept quiet about it, afraid of being a target for the anti-gay crowd, he always regretted it. It ate him up inside.

I could relate to that, but so far, I said nothing. I let him get it all out. We were sharing an important moment.

When he thought back to when he kept quiet about his feelings, he realized something very important. The pain of regret and unrealized potential was much worse than any insults or even beatings. Regret lasted a lifetime, and it wasn't likely -- as long as he didn't go too crazy -- that he'd die if came out to anyone. As long as he only shared his feelings with his intended, life wasn't so bad. Either he'd be rejected and wait for the next potential boyfriend to come along, or he'd find bliss in a relationship, however long such young love could last. It was a much better alternative than to never having tried.

His story moved me nearly to tears, but again, I held off. He got me thinking about my own situation, and I vowed to tell Tracy how I felt -- eventually. I couldn't do it today, and I might not tell her tomorrow, but I wouldn't let me feelings fester too much longer.

After thanking him profusely, we moved on to something else that had me curious.

"So what gave me away?" I asked him.

"Besides the laser beam stares, you mean?" He laughed.

I frowned at first but soon turned it around and smiled. I knew he was just joking around.

"Your short hair and your love of sports made me wonder," he finally confessed.

"My hair is only short because of the accident." I still couldn't say 'fire', but I'm sure he knew what I meant. "I've been growing it out though. It used to be a lot shorter that it is now.

"So you're a lipstick lesbian then?"

"A what?"

He went on to explain the various terms for different types of lesbians, some of which were unflattering and even downright cruel. I could see that he didn't mean any harm though. He just related the facts to me as he knew them.

I knew the word, 'lesbian', but it was nice to have a few other labels to give myself. It made it easier to look things up and find others like me. I wasn't alone, nor would I ever truly be alone. The world was small and large at the same time, shrunken by the Internet and yet filled with so many people that I was bound to find plenty of other girls who shared my sexual preference.

"I'm not too sure about lipstick yet but I guess I'm pretty feminine," I told him.

"Yep," he agreed. "That you are, my friend."

We had a good laugh over that. We'd firmly established that it truly was possible for a girl and a boy to be nothing more than friends, and we were happy with that.

Chapter 33: The Long Coming out

James' words haunted me all the way up to my birthday. I kept looking for a good opportunity to tell Tracy that I liked her but the opportunities never lasted long enough for me to gather enough courage. Needless to say, my lack of resolve frustrated me to no end.

Whenever I got really upset, I'd either have Michelle or James to fall back on. They were both very supportive and encouraging, though I could've done without Michelle's technique of prodding me with teases. Still, their different styles meshed very well, and they left me no choice.

I wouldn't tell Tracy on the day of my birthday, just in case things went badly. I didn't want anything bad to happen on my favorite day of the year. But I made a pledge, and I told both James and Michelle to make sure I wouldn't back out. I'd tell Tracy on the first day of summer. I wouldn't have school or much of anything else to distract me. I'd have no excuses not to tell her.

Of course not having any distractions could prove unpleasant afterwards if Tracy rejected me. I'd be left alone to wallow in self-pity with no homework or anything else to take my mind off things. That didn't bother me though. I thought I'd be strong enough to handle myself. I had to be. I'd made a promise to my friends and myself.

***

"Hi Tracy." I chirped, as she joined me for lunch.

It felt like a great load had been lifted from my shoulders when I decided to confess my love to her.

"You're in a good mood," she said.

"Yep. It's you-know-what day tomorrow, and almost summer, the season of flirty fashion. What could be better?" I flashed her my killer, heart-melting smile. No one could withstand its power.

"Yes, I know what you-know-what day is." She laughed. "You don't have to give me hints."

"That's a relief. I thought I was going to have to tattoo it on my forehead." We giggled, causing a few boys to look our way and shake their heads.

Those poor boys. They felt drawn to girls but they just couldn't relate to us so they often pushed us away with insults and crude gestures. It was no wonder I didn't find them attractive. Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for Tracy.

With James' permission, I told her he only liked boys, and she took it very well, but she kept looking. Boys were number one on her shopping list and she wouldn't give up. She'd hoped and dreamed to have a boyfriend over the summer.

I never actually told her that I didn't like boys. I just made it plain that I didn't like chasing them, and that didn't go over well with Tracy. I cramped her style, and it frustrated both of us. It also strained our friendship enough that we had to separate for days at a time until we were both in the right mood. Luckily, that mood came along fairly regularly. Girls needed time away from boys to maintain their sanity. They needed a girl's night out.

"So," Tracy started. "You wanna see a movie tonight?"

"Sure!" I replied. Then I started chanting, "G.N.O.!"

Tracy joined my chant for a few rounds, until the boys started shaking their heads again. She cared too much about what boys thought so she got a bit embarrassed. Poor girl.

***

Every time Tracy and I had our little girl's night out, I couldn't stop smiling, and I'm sure my eyes sparkled with love. I imagined us being out on a date since it was always just the two of us. We'd sit in the back of the theater and I'd spend half the movie slowly moving my arm to the back of her seat. When I finally moved my arm to her shoulders, she'd flinch with surprise and then slowly lean into me, sighing with contentment.

It was one of many daydreams I'd had about her. I really needed to tell her how I felt. She drove me crazy.

"You wanna get popcorn?" she asked. "My treat."

"Oh! Sure. Thanks."

She woke me from my current daydream, causing me to look around in wonder, as if seeing the movie theater for the first time that night, which probably wasn't far from the truth.

The theater featured a lot of very popular movies, so it was fairly crowded. Tracy suggested I go ahead to save us seats but I thought we were early enough to get good ones. I didn't want to leave her anyway, so we stood in the long line at the concession stand together, indulging in casual conversation to make up for the coming verbal drought. It was going to be a long movie.

"Hey," Tracy said. "My sister told me something interesting about popcorn in England."

"Oh?"

"She said they sell it with sugar instead of butter."

"Like popcorn balls?"

"I guess," she shrugged her cute little shoulders. "But loose, in a bag or bucket like we get."

"Weird."

"Yeah."

"So, where did she hear that?"

Tracy shrugged again. "I guess from one of her online friends. She chats online a lot."

"Yeah. There's all sorts out there. You never know who you might be chatting with."

"I know," Tracy shivered. "Doesn't it creep you out?"

"Not really," I said, giving her my cool, confident look. "You just gotta be careful and pick your chat rooms carefully."

"I guess."

"I'm pretty good at figuring people out. That helps. And even if someone fakes me out, they can't keep it up for long."

"Yeah," she said, briefly looking up in thought until she had a response. "You're probably right. I imagine it's much easier for nice guys to pretend to be jerks than the other way around."

"Exactly."

We got the head of the line, ordered a small bucket of popcorn and some bottled water, and waited in yet another line to have our tickets checked. With all of that accomplished, we finally headed for one of the zillion shoe box size theaters in the movieplex, and along the way, I thought a little more about online chatting.

I'd started chatting fairly recently. I had a lot of free time since I had so few friends. Chatting gave me a much needed social outlet and staved off the loneliness that always loomed on the horizon. I hadn't made any really close friends, but I had some fairly good casual acquaintances. Thank goodness for computers.

***

We went to see a romantic comedy that received some fairly positive viewer ratings. It wasn't great, but it had some good talking points. It gave Tracy and me something to discuss and laugh about afterwards. We had a good talk while we waited for my mom to pick us up.

When we finally ran out of movie lines to mimic, the conversation turned serious. Tracy confessed that she still got together with Anne and Kathy. That was a big reason why we didn't get together nearly as often.

Having my best friend see the other two girls was cool with me, as long as I still got some quality time with her. I wanted her to have fun, and if that meant joining in a pack to woo the boys, then who was I to stand in the way. I told her my feelings and we hugged, just before my mom arrived. I was in heaven for several seconds, holding my girl in my arms.

Chapter 34: Birthday Girl

"Happy birthday, Beth!" Mom, Grams, Tracy and James all shouted.

It was one of my happiest days since I got out of the hospital. I was sure I glowed. Even Michelle rousted herself for the occasion.

"Happy birthday, kiddo," she said.

"Hey! I'm not a kid! And besides, you're the same age I am. At least I think you are."

"Yeah yeah. It's just a nickname. Don't get your panties in a bunch."

"Hah!"

Michelle was in rare form, and why shouldn't she be. We were past due for a little sisterly chat. Perhaps she'd saved her energy just for my birthday ... wait a minute ... make that our birthday.

"Hey. Happy birthday to you too," I told her.

"About time it sunk into that pretty little head of yours. Have a good party. I'll be around again later for the ice cream and cake."

Oh my. I almost started drooling when she mentioned the traditional birthday dessert. There was nothing better than plain chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream, at least in my mind. I had simple tastes.

After some introductions and small talk, the party proceeded nicely with the giving of gifts. The larger gifts from my mother and Grams were wrapped in bright blue birthday paper with a pink bow and ribbon. I hated to open them. They were too pretty. The smaller gifts came in those little gift bags with handles that everyone used. The bags were cute, even if they were an excuse to cut corners and save time on wrapping.

I shredded the wrapping paper on the larger ones first. That's because I knew what they contained. The fairly flat, rectangular boxes always meant clothes. I might want to wear the clothes for the party so I had to open them first.

As I suspected, I got clothes, and they were beautiful. Grams got me a brown crushed velvet skirt and matching top. The fabric felt so soft and wonderful, I couldn't wait to try them on -- but I had to. I had to open my mom's gift, and when I did, everyone gasped.

I pulled out a blue satin party dress with spaghetti straps. It was the most beautiful dress I'd ever seen, and the hem length was so short. I couldn't believe she got it for me.

"Thanks, Mom!" I cried.

I couldn't stop myself then, and everyone laughed when I ran to the bedroom to slip it on. I didn't think it was funny though. I had to look my best at my party, and that dress was the prettiest outfit I owned.

I came back walking on the balls of my feet, like I was wearing high-heeled shoes. I didn't have any shoes that matched my new dress but there was no way I'd let that stop me from wearing it.

"We can get you some shoes this weekend," my mom told me after noticing how I was walking.

I just mouthed the words, "Thank you." I was too choked up to speak at that moment.

Choosing the next gift to open presented a problem. I wanted to save the best for last, having a good idea what Tracy would be giving me, but I also didn't want her to feel slighted. We were supposed to be best friends so it wouldn't look good if I pushed her to last. There was one plus to opening her gift next at least. I'd get it that much sooner. The only thing I needed to do was find an excuse to push James to last. I didn't want him to feel slighted either.

I thought about my dilemma for a minute or so, but I soon had it solved. I'd been lucky in choosing to open Gram's present first. I told everyone I was going in reverse order by age. Tracy was older than James so James had to go last. It was perfect.

My hands trembled slightly as I lifted Tracy's gift bag and peeked into it. I saw a jewelry case and my heart skipped a beat. It had to be the bracelet. It just had to.

I reached in, pulled out the case and ever so slowly opened it. Then I opened my eyes that I'd shut tightly right after I peeked into the bag, and I saw it. She got me a friendship bracelet, just as I hoped she would.

I started breathing again, taking in a big lung-full of air. Then I hugged Tracy and fought off the tears that threatened to run away with my mascara, and I briefly wondered why women wore mascara when they cried so easily. It was just asking for a mess.

Tracy endured my hug for longer than she was comfortable, and when I finally pulled back, she was blushing.

"Oh," I said, feeling a little embarrassed myself. "Sorry. I'm just really really happy you got it for me." Of course I didn't tell her the whole truth, but half was enough for the moment.

"I got that," Tracy said, smiling.

I slipped on my new bracelet and quickly looked for James' gift bag next. I picked it up and peeked in to see what had to be a perfume bottle.

"Cool!" I shrieked.

In my quest for femininity, I'd completely missed that little detail.

I pulled out a bottle of something called Oni. I'd never heard of it, but when I took a whiff, it smelled sweet, like a mixture of honey and vanilla. It was divine.

"Thanks, James! This is great." Then I suddenly had a memory of a conversation I'd had with him last week.

"That's why you asked me about scents!" I accused him.

He held his hands up. "No way! You got it backwards. Talking about scents last week was what gave me the idea for the perfume."

"Oh. Right. Nice save," I said, just before sticking out my tongue at him, making him laugh.

I sprayed a little Oni on the inside of my left wrist, rubbed my two wrists together and cautiously sniffed. I had to see if the perfume was compatible with my body chemistry. I did know enough to check for that. Some perfumes smelled great by themselves but didn't always mix well with everyone's unique body odor.

Luckily, my new perfume passed the sniff test. It smelled even better on my wrist.

"It's perfect!" I gushed.

So there I sat, bubbling over with enthusiasm with my "mostly" completed party outfit. I missed having high-heeled shoes, but I could live without the shoes for the time being because it was time for the last phase of the party. The vanilla scent of my perfume reminded me of a certain flavor I'd been drooling over earlier.

"Okay!" I shouted. "Who wants cake and ice cream?"

"I do!" they all shouted back, and we raced to the kitchen table.

My mom had to go through the usual birthday ritual first of course. She lit 14 candles and they all sung happy birthday to me. I made a silent wish about Tracy, blew out the candles and the rest of the day was pleasant history.

The chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream went down well. My favorite birthday dessert made a nice end to a great party, even though Michelle didn't manage to speak to me again. I could sense her presence while I ate my cake and ice cream but I guess all the feminine gifts I got put her off.

Only one thing could've made the party better, and that was if Mike could've lived to celebrate along with me. It was really the only gift I wanted but I gladly accepted the others.

Chapter 35: Heartburn

The rest of the few weeks leading up to the first day of summer were filled with anxiety and heartburn. Actually, it was my anxiety that led to the stomach acid problems. My mom fixed the heartburn easily enough with antacid tablets. The same couldn't be said for my anxiety.

Life dealt me a one-two punch that June. First I had to suffer through finals at school. The studying and cramming took its toll on my nerves, but in the end, I did about as well as usual. I got my A in English and A's and B's in the rest of my classes. I even got an A in Math. Michelle had to be happy.

I very briefly breathed a sigh of relief after school ended for the year, and I spent the rest of my free time worrying about my impending confession of love to Tracy. I couldn't get a break.

I desperately sought clues to how she'd respond to me when I told her how I felt. She'd blushed when I hugged her for the friendship bracelet at my birthday party. Did that mean she liked me more than a friend? If so, why give me a bracelet for friendship? I thought the best loving relationships were built on a foundation of friendship so I still refused to give up hope, and I couldn't help but be anxious.

There were other clues about how Tracy might react, and my mind insisted on putting a positive spin on all of them. I wasn't doing myself any favors though. If Tracy rejected me, I'd be ill equipped to deal with it.

"Hey Beth."

"Hey Tracy."

"Did you get new shoes for your party dress?"

"Oh. Yeah. They're nice." I only half paid attention to her. My head was in the clouds as I daydreamed about holding her in my arms and kissing her silly.

"And did your mom grow a hundred pound watermelon on your deck garden yet?" she teased.

"Yeah," I said, still not really listening. "Sure."

"Beth!" Tracy suddenly shouted, snapping me out of it.

"What?! What is it?"

"You were practically drooling." She laughed.

I blushed. "Was not. I was thinking."

"I don't know. You looked like you were drooling but I hope I'm wrong ... because you know what they say."

"Huh? No. What do they say?"

"Girls rule. Boys drool." She laughed again, and I smiled. She had such a lovely laugh.

"Ha ha. It is to laugh. You and your silly phrases."

"You like them." She said and then stuck out her tongue at me.

That got me daydreaming again. She said boys drool. Does that mean she didn't like boys? And she stuck her tongue out at me. What did that mean? Dang. That made me blush. I was definitely smitten.

***

In the last few days leading up to the summer solstice, James gave me several pep talks. They sounded more like something I imagined a coach would give his players, but I know my friend meant well, and he did help give me the strength to make it to my self-appointed moment of truth. He was a good friend.

Most of the time, we phoned each other, but on one particular evening, he dropped by my house to see me.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey yourself." I gave him a faint smile as I let him in.

"Now now. You can do better than that."

He was wrong, so he tried something else. He looked up and rubbed his chin, as if deep in thought. "I could try tickling you."

"You do and you'll be sorry," I growled. I hated being tickled, even when Tracy had tried it once. If I couldn't handle her doing it, I wouldn't let anyone try.

"Okay okay. How about a massage then? Seriously, Beth. You look way too tense."

"You know massage?"

"Sure ... a little. I mean, I've had several massages. They're great."

He gave me his best wise man's look and started lecturing me. "Massage is an important part of sports therapy. A player has to stay relaxed to play well."

I nodded at that. It matched my experiences playing volleyball in P.E. class. Even when I'd lunged for a dig, if I tensed too much, I couldn't properly absorb the power of the spiked ball and it would go flying out of everyone's reach.

"Besides," he added, "you can't stay tense the whole game or your body will explode." He winked and we both laughed.

I was still concerned though, and I let him know it. Having a massage and giving a massage were two different things.

"Don't worry," he told me. "I've had enough massages to know the basics. I won't hurt you."

I eventually agreed to the massage since I could stop him quickly enough if I didn't like it. So I laid on my stomach on my bed and my body melted under the care of his strong hands. It felt very good, and it did relax me, so much so, I fell asleep.

"Hey! Wake up, sleepy head," he said as he gently shook me awake.

"Huh? Oh. That felt wonderful. Thanks."

We parted that day for the last time that summer vacation. I'd be alone to face Tracy while he went off to some sports camp until late August. He wished me good luck and hugged me good-bye, and when he did, he almost made me wish I was straight -- almost.

"Whatever happens," he said over his shoulder as left my apartment, "remember ... it won't kill you."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered under my breath, too quiet for him to hear.

"I'll call you the evening of the solstice to see how it went! Bye!" he shouted from across the parking lot of my apartment complex, and then he was gone.

Chapter 36: Solstice Rendezvous

On the Sunday morning of the solstice, I'd never been more nervous, and my stomach was full of dancing butterflies. I chewed several antacid tablets, catching the eye of my mother.

"Are you okay, Beth?"

"Yeah, Mom. I'm just nervous about ... something."

"Oh? Care to tell me what it is?"

"No ... well ... maybe later. Is that okay?"

"Sure, sweetie," she said, trying not to look hurt. "Just please don't forget that I'm here for you, whenever you need me."

"I won't forget. Thanks, Mom."

She still didn't know about my sexual preference. I hadn't worked up the nerve to tell her, but I'd think about telling her later. I had other more pressing matters on my mind.

I left the apartment and started the long walk to meet Tracy. I wanted to walk to get rid of some of my nervous energy. I also wanted to arrive early and rehearse my little speech, so I gave myself two extra hours. That's how nervous I was.

The first part of my two part speech covered my coming out. I thought I'd try one thing at a time. If she was still with me after that, I figured I'd still have a chance. If she ran away after I told her I was a lesbian, then she didn't have to ever know how much I really loved her. I'd have to be content with friendship, assuming I could salvage it.

The second part of my speech wasn't finished yet. I couldn't decide how to tell her how much I loved her, and it gave me fits. Every attempt sounded either too corny or too blunt. I considered borrowing from the great works of love poetry that I'd read through for inspiration, but none of those poems quite said how I felt. I wanted my words to be both passionate and original. I wanted them to be perfect for the moment. After that, it was all up to Tracy.

As I walked, the only thing I could decide was to keep it simple. If I tried to get too fancy, I'd trip over my tongue. I strove for what I liked to call simple elegance, and I hoped I'd find the right words in time.

***

I'd gotten Tracy to agree to meet me at one of my favorite places in the whole world. It was a large park with an activity center, some ball fields, and a large wilderness area. The wilderness consisted of a stand of trees at the far end of the park and the rest consisted of a large field with a long boardwalk path that skirted around the edge of a wetland. It would be easy to find a secluded spot to be alone with her, and it would be neutral ground in case things ended badly.

I walked onto an extension of the boardwalk that overlooked a large bunch of cattails and sat on the wooden bench that faced them. There, I fussed over words while I waited for Tracy, but it was a very short wait.

"Beth?" It was my best friend's voice, but it didn't quite register right away. I had trouble separating it from the daydream that I'd fallen into.

"Huh? Tracy? What are you doing here already?"

"Duh! I like it here," she said, walking over and plopping down next to me on the bench.

I tried not to panic but I wasn't ready for her. My stomach churned and my tongue tied itself into a huge knot before I could utter even one word. I was doomed.

"So why are you here so early?" she asked after several precious seconds ticked away. Then she stared at the cattails, waiting for a reply.

"I ... I was nervous." I finally croaked, after I remembered to breathe.

"Yeah? Well ... don't be," she said, smiling but still staring at the cattails.

I nodded but waited another impossibly long minute before I dared speak. I waited and watched the cattails along with her, all while keeping her visible in the corner of my eye.

"I guess you're wondering why ...." I choked, unable to continue for the moment.

"Goodness, Beth. Relax. I'm not going to bite you."

She certainly sounded relaxed, and I envied her.

"You caught me by surprise. Sorry." The words suddenly got easier for me, but that was only because I hadn't started my unfinished speech yet. I wanted to ease my way into it, and gain at least a little confidence first.

"It's okay. And that was good. You're doing better." She kept smiling and staring out ahead of her.

Not having her look at me made things easier. I just hoped she didn't turn to look at me at a crucial moment in my speech. I was afraid my heart would stop if she did.

"Nice weather, huh?" I ventured.

"Yeah. It's summer. Duh." She giggled and I joined in a little.

"I love this park," I said with a sigh. I'd tested the waters by saying the magic four-letter word. So far, so good.

"Me too," She agreed.

"You know what else I love?" My speech flew right out the window, caught fire and exploded, along with my heart. I had to express myself as soon as possible or I'd seize up and the men in white coats would have to be called to carry me away.

"Hmmmm?" She prompted, still mercifully looking away from me.

"Girls."

"Girls?"

"Girls. I'm a lesbian, a lipstick lesbian ... to be specific."

"Yeah," she said, still smiling and still fascinated by the cattails. "I kind of figured that."

"You did?!" I almost turned to face her. Luckily, I held back. I had to because I knew if I faced her, she'd turn to look at me, and I was sure I'd choke on my words again if she did that.

"It's pretty easy to tell, and it's not a big deal. I know all about James and I'm friends with him. Right?"

"Well ... yeah." Dang. I should've seen that, but I guess I was too worried to think straight.

"There's more," I warned, though I actually started to feel hopeful. My stupid rational mind calculated 50/50 odds by this point. Tracy seemed so casual about homosexuality. I was positive that she was attracted to boys but there was still the possibility she could be bisexual.

"Okay. Just spit it out. Who's the lucky girl?"

That stopped me cold. She knew! She knew I was going to tell her that I loved a girl. But was she teasing me? Didn't she know I was going to confess to her? I couldn't tell. I wanted to read her mind so badly I could taste it.

"Don't you know?" I stalled for time, and clues.

"Not exactly," she teased again, still smiling and still looking away from me.

Okay. I gave up by then. My nerves couldn't take any more. I turned to face her, and I confessed everything.

"It's you, Tracy. We started on shaky terms, but over the past several months, you stuck by my side, in spite of all of my weirdness. You were a true friend, and you slowly grew to mean more and more to me. I love you, Tracy."

"What?!" she suddenly shrieked, and she jerked her head to stare at me with disgust. "Ewww! No! I ... I can't. I thought you liked .... Ewww!" With that, she launched herself from the bench and her feet thumped out a fading staccato rhythm along the boardwalk and out of my life.

"So much for simple elegance," I said to a large green dragonfly, hovering over the nearest cattail.

*** to be continued on Monday ***

 © 2009 by Terry Volkirch. This work may not be replicated in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder). All Rights Reserved. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental.