I was ostracized for most of my junior year in high school.

It was all my sister’s fault. Well, perhaps not all of it but if she hadn’t forced me to save her bacon, twice, all this would never have happened, so I blame her, and only her for what happened.

My sister fell in love at college. Perfectly normal. And normally that wouldn’t be a problem. Well, for her it wasn’t a problem. The young man she fell in love with came from the neighboring town, Jonestown. A coincidence given that their university was far away. Now many of you are thinking “Awww”. It would have been if Jonestown wasn’t the archenemy of Smithtown where we live. Betty herself has always been above such petty things, of course.

However, it had some practical drawbacks. At the beginning of summer she had intended to go on date with Phil. Unfortunately that was only possible if it was a double date with Phil’s brother, Doug. Doug was almost two years younger, if only one school year, so he was still in high school. Strike one. He was from Jonestown. Strike two. Betty was getting desperate. None of her friends was prepared to help her out. So Betty had to use the emergency plan – me.

The idea was both less and more ludicrous than it appeared. Betty had quite often dressed me up as a girl. I’m rather skinny, even if tall, and I have soft features. The bottom line is that I make a reasonably pretty girl. The flip side is that I had never been out of the house dressed like a girl. I’m also “socially challenged”. That is, I suck at being around other people. No people skill at all. I go to school. I do well in everything that doesn’t involve working in teams. Our PE teacher is a ball games fanatic so I barely scraped through a pass there. As soon as school is over for the day I head home to read or play video games. I only feel safe at home, especially in my “nuclear bomb shelter” as my parents call my room. With reason. My behavior quirks have made me a target for bullies. You know, like shooting fish in a barrel.

Too bad Betty has a rather forceful personality. The night of the date I was waiting with her for the boys to pick us up. I wore Betty’s best dress. Well, it used to be her best until she outgrew it. I was discreetly made up. I was cute. Actually, quite cute if I’m to be honest. Despite that I expected the night to be a disaster. There were so many ways this could go wrong. 1. The date was in the nearby city so it was not inconceivable that someone from school would see me. 2. “Mandy” could be discovered to be a boy anyway. 3. I’d destroy the date by just being me.

I didn’t want to ruin Betty’s date so I made an effort. Surprisingly “Mandy” had much better people skills than the unenhanced (B-size inserts) original Bobby. When Doug dropped me off (Betty & Co was to continue partying) I was quite proud of my performance that night. Just the goodbye ritual to go through and then I was safe.

“You know, you make a very pretty girl.” Doug punctured my selfsatisfaction.
“You knew?”
“You are very pretty but being a girl is more than just the looks. You still move and act like a boy.” And Betty who had said that no one would suspect!
“I like you. You are different. You intrigue me. Would you like to spend the day with me tomorrow? I don’t mind if it’s as Mandy or ….”
“Bobby. I have to check with my parents.” What was I thinking? End this now!
“Great! I’ll call you tomorrow morning.”
“But you don’t have my number.”
“Betty gave it to me.” Why do I have the feeling that Betty set me up?

I was relieved that Doug didn’t try to give me a goodnight kiss.
My parents were only too happy to agree. For once I was prepared to leave my nuclear bomb shelter out of my own free will.

It was Mandy that Doug picked up the next morning. A tomboyish Mandy but definitely Mandy. I didn’t trust Bobby to go through with it. I had by graceful permission raided Betty’s treasure trove of old clothes. We had fun. I enjoyed the day. I enjoyed Doug’s company. He enjoyed mine. That first day was followed by others.

One day we were at Doug’s place. His parents were at work and his brother had gone away for an internship (tough, Betty). They had a swimming pool and it was a warm day. I wanted to take a swim but “Mandy” had nothing to wear. Then a very embarrassed and blushing Doug brought out a giftwrapped package. The package contained a very nice bikini. Not extremely tiny. Not exactly all-covering either but not too bad. He had forgotten to take off the price tag. It was NOT cheap. I changed into it and we had a lazy day by the pool. I had forgotten about tan lines. My mother noticed those when I walked around the house without a shirt. After that I was told to always wear a shirt at home. Once I already had the tan lines I saw no reason not to continue the pool sessions. “Mandy” was enjoying herself too much.

Perhaps too much. Doug was a football player. Football is a very serious thing in Jonestown. This meant that Doug (nose tackle) and the rest of the team practiced through the summer. Sometimes I joined him and sat there watching. Cheerleading is also a serious thing in Jonestown. The cheerleaders practiced as seriously as the guys. Soon I was dragged into helping them. Once I was “volunteered” to take the place of an absent cheerleader. I got no less sweaty (glowing?) than the others. That was the end of “Mandy”. Screaming and fighting I was dragged into the locker room and relieved of my clothes. My secret was out.

“Tomboy girl or janegirl boy?” What the hell were they talking about?
“I have no idea …”
“Oh, that’s fine. You’ll find out. Don’t worry you’re amongst friends”

Bye Mandy, hello Bobbie. I found out that I 1. Had a boyfriend. Stupidly enough I had not realized that before. 2. I had friends. Both something new for me. I was delighted. I was intoxicated by these new feelings.

After that the girls, my friends, became as important as Doug. I found out what a janegirl is but didn’t let that bother me but just fell into an ambiguous role. I went swimming with them, using the bikini Doug had given me. I kept using the cheerleader locker room. I kept practicing with them. Any place that needed to be filled was filled by me. I became very versatile. I even started to take ballet classes with them. No, I didn’t present as a girl, tomboy or not, at the studio. Too many complications. Gray opaque tights and white thong leotard under the tights. You might wonder how I handled the tan lines in the changing room? No problems. I was the only boy so I had it to myself.

So where did my parents stand in all this? They were over the moon. In their view Doug was the knight in shining armor that had saved me from a fate worse than death (that is my nice snug and safe and not physically challenging life in my “nuclear bomb shelter”). He could do nothing wrong. I’m convinced that if he had asked to have sexual intercourse with me in the living room they would have said “go ahead”. Fortunately Doug never made such a request. To be honest, Doug was the perfect gentleman. Attentive. Kind. Generous. Safe. Yes, I felt safe when with him. I even started to feel safe when with the girls even if Doug wasn’t around.

Even the best of summers comes to an end. Now you expect me to be outed in school the first time in the locker room because of my tan lines? Sorry to make you disappointed. That never happened. I applied to make my ballet classes count as PE. Coach was disgusted my “sissyness” (quite obviously he has no idea of how physically challenging ballet is) but he was only too happy to get rid of me.

One of the cheerleaders’ mothers worked in Smithtown so she picked me up from school and drove me to the ballet studio. Fortunately there was none in Smithtown. Thus my social life from the summer could continue. Bobbie was a popular girl or whatever. And yes, that happy social life included Doug as well, very much so. Even if the girls had told me that he was my boyfriend we hadn’t really made that official. No declaration of love. Not even a kiss, other than on the cheek. No doubt we liked spending time together though.

So far so good. Life after school was great. School was as usual, but with the bonus of no PE. Of course Fate would not allow my life to continue like that. That wouldn’t be like her. Thanksgiving was coming and with that the great grudge football game of the year. Two cheerleaders in my school managed to break their legs at the same time No, I’m not telling you what happened. I see no point in embarrassing them further. The bottom line was that the cheerleading squad had only one replacement and thus was one cheerleader short. Not necessarily a short one.

Betty was to be back from university for the holiday and had been a star cheerleader when in school. They tried to persuade her to fill in. She refused. Apart from being out of practice only current students were supposed to be on any school team or squad. She did, however, have a suggestion. Guess who?

At least Betty didn’t reveal my very real cheerleading skills but instead highlighted my ballet. The squad was really, really desperate so they “gave me a chance”. Not that anybody thought the socially challenged BOY would do. I did. I’m not very smart, am I? I was included in the squad and given extra practice. Perhaps it’s not really true that I was included in the squad. I was tolerated. I did not change with them. I did not socialize with them. I was “part” of the squad exactly the time of the practice. Not a minute more. Don’t think the school at large was grateful for me helping out in a desperate situation. I was ridiculed as the girly boy cheerleader. Oh, after the Thanksgiving game I could dump the whole thing. AND the skimpy uniform. I had done my duty to my school. A new girl, a trained cheerleader, would start in my school a week after Thanksgiving. Phew!

I was good though (any intelligent person would have realized that I had more cheerleading experience than I admitted to). That meant I was front and center. At the game everyone knew who I was. Catcalls etc. Thankfully the Thanksgiving game started on time. The game was more exciting than I had expected. As the game draw to a close the Bulldogs were just behind the Cougars.

In a classic teen romcom ending the Bulldogs nose tackle intercepted a pass and just kept running all the way to the other end of the field to score a touchdown. The Bulldogs won!

In my excitement I ran out on the field and kissed the big nose tackle. A passionate kiss on the lips. That is what made the school ostracize me for the rest of junior year.

The stadium went completely silent. Everyone was looking at the boy in the skimpy cheerleading uniform that just had kissed the game winner so passionately. The boy in the skimpy Smithtown Cougars cheerleading uniform passionately kissing the Jonestown Bulldogs nose tackle that had robbed the Cougars of the win.

Ooops!

I kissed Doug again.