I want to make some things perfectly clear.
First of all, I NEVER said I was a girl.
I was not girly in any way.
I wasn’t petite. I’m slightly above medium height (male).
I did not have long flowing golden locks. Not exactly short but certainly not long.
I was not a social outcast. Actually, I was quite popular in school and did honor list (though not potential Valedictorian) well in school.

I did like to dance ballet but ballet is NOT girly. Male ballet dancers have extraordinary strong physique. Some male dancers are gay. Gay but not girly. Nobody that has seen Nureyev on stage would call him girly. And then there are all those straight male dancers. If Baryshnikov slipped in a boy in the long row of girls, I never heard that.

So basically I was a lean, mean dancing machine well integrated in the society that is called High School, not that drugs were prevalent there.

Still, everything started with ballet. I was not the only boy at the studio but I was the only boy at my level in the summer course the year before my junior year. I enjoyed the class. The teacher was great. The group small. The other in class concentrated. I progressed at a more than satisfactory rate. Most of the rest in class were girls from the cheerleading squad. The usually went to have something to eat after class and stretching. Apart from the cheerleaders I was the only one that stretched for as long as they did so after while they invited me to join them. Who wouldn’t like to spend time with cheerleaders, especially as they invite you. No there was no hidden agenda from their side. They just were naturally friendly.

We had a great time during the summer. Classes, stretching, something to eat … The end of summer approached. People started to come back from whatever they had been doing during the summer. One day a bunch of football players waited for the girls outside the studio and everyone went off to have a bite. Given the situation I started to leave them but my cheerleading friends wouldn’t let me. Perhaps I should have. Since the football players were the cheerleaders’ boyfriends it was only natural that I wound up with Bobby, the only one without a girlfriend. He was fun and I had a great time. I hadn’t expected that for several reasons. First of all the change in dynamics with the addition of the guys and second due to my prejudices about football players. Why hadn’t I had the corresponding prejudices about cheerleaders?

Bereft of a few prejudices I returned home and that was that, I thought. It wasn’t. The guys were there again the day after. Even Bobby who had been with them just by accident the day before. That established the new norm. I still spent most of the time talking with Bobby. A couple of days before school started, I needed a lift home. Bobby offered to drive me. What a heap of junk! Still, it got me home. Bobby surprised me by getting out of the car. I wondered why. Was there something he had forgotten to tell me? I was taken complete unaware and he had kissed me before I even understood his intentions. Then he looked very embarrassed and quickly drove away.

I should have been outraged. What I really felt was confusion. Was Bobby gay? What did I really feel? Just to make things even better my parents had seen everything.
- How was the kiss?
I was so distracted by my feelings that I inadvertently and stupidly was honest.
- Great!
OK, that was it. This had to stop NOW!

The day after I joined the gang again but only because I needed to talk to Bobby.

- Bobby, I’m not gay. There can be nothing between us.
- Gay? But if you don’t like girls why don’t you like me?
- Bobby, I’m a boy!
- You are a BOY!!!

Exit Bobby. A terribly embarrassed Bobby. I later learnt that he had assumed I was girl. Despite me not being girly, he had seen what he expected to see. There was a group coming out from the dance studio after ballet class. He knew everyone but one from earlier. All cheerleaders. He assumed that the last one had to be a girl as well. Not girly? Not all girls are girly. Assumptions, assumptions. I never said I was a girl!

THE END

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No, it wasn’t. It could have been but it wasn’t.

I started my junior year. I got into my new classes. Interesting ones that diverted my mind from other things. I started a new class at the studio. By chance mostly cheerleaders but this time I wasn’t the only boy in class. I felt relieved.

Then things went down the drain. Not for me but for the football team. No team is built around one player but when you compete at a high level if even one of the four best players is off his game the team struggles. Oh, who am I kidding. Bobby was the star of them. And Bobby was a mess. The first game they only barely won against a really weak team. The second was a rout. Bobby’s teammates relied on him and when he didn’t perform things fell apart. The third game they won against another weak team but only because the rest of the team ignored Bobby. Bobby was slated to be benched.

My cheerleader friends told me what Bobby’s problem was. A broken heart. He just couldn't get me out of his mind. And then I was a BOY! A boy that had rejected him. My cheerleading friends started prodding me. Subtly at first and then less so. Bobby was very popular in school. Everybody loved him, Still, I was steadfast. I was a boy. It was not my fault. I never said I was a girl.

More pressure. I resisted. I was firm. I never said I was a girl. This was not my problem.

Then I was summoned to the Principal.

- I believe that you know my nephew Bobby?
Oh, oh. This was not good.
- Yes
- As you might know he not feeling well at present. His school results are falling and then there is football.
- Excuse me sir, but I never said I was a girl. It was all a misunderstanding.
- Perhaps you could help him out a bit?
- Excuse me sir but I don’t think Bobby would be interested in a relationship with a boy and I never said I was a girl.
- I know that you aren’t a girl but perhaps you could show some flexibility? All for the good of the school?

Oh, that was low. Really low. I was known for my school spirit. And yes, I had been there at the games and I had suffered. But I never said I was a girl!

I left the Principal’s office after mendaciously promising to think about it. I had absolutely no intention to do that.

I had a short respite when nobody bothered me. Until the next evening. More than 24 hours, Yay!

Have you ever had an entire football team (except one member) invade your home? Not in a threating way. Oh no, much worse than that. Sad puppy eyes. All those big boys looking at you with sad puppy eyes. That’s unnatural, that’s unfair. It should be outlawed!

However, that was not the final blow. When they left my parents started interrogating me.
- Do you like Bobby?
- Yes, I like him very much but I’m a boy. Bobby is boy. Bobby is not gay. I never said I was a girl.
- You know, school is a time when a boy should discover things. About the world. About people. About himself. You are a boy you have always been a boy, so why not try something else for a while?
-
What is it that they say about crazy people? Just play along? The day after Mom and I went off for dress shopping. Why did Mom pick such short dresses for me to try? That wasn’t me. I never said I was a girl. Finally I found one that I felt comfortable in. Knee length. Not that fancy. Could work both in school and on a not very fancy date. It wasn’t like I’d need more than one, was it. I never said I was a girl.

I have never been received with so many smiles as when coming to school in that dress. I had expected Bobby to look me up as soon as he heard. When lunch break passed without a glimpse of him I hunted him down. He was shy and embarrassed when corned. Quite literally cornered. I didn’t want him to run away. I had gone to far to back down so I asked him out. Abashed he accepted and then even more embarrassed confessed that he no longer had a car. The pile of junk had finally gone to the happy hunting grounds and he couldn’t afford to get a new old car yet. That meant that I would pick him up at his home.

When Mom had worked her magic and I looked in the mirror I was ready to ask ME out. How could one so not girly look so good?
Next, a short stop to pick up Bobby. The short stop took almost an hour. I had not calculated with “meet the parents” time. Did I mention that Bobby actually was descended from a brother of Tomás Torquemada’s? And it was not only the parents. There were his big brothers as well. Or rather his BIG brothers. Bobby came from a big family. All of them. They actually meant it when they talked about “little Bobby”. Hower hard I had to get to grips with it, six foot 6, two hundred pound Bobby really was the runt of the family.

- So you are the boy that broke little Bobby’s heart
- Yes, but I never meant to. I never said I’m a girl. It was all a misunderstanding.
- So why are you doing this now?
- To be honest, I don’t know. Part is that everybody wants me to. Part of it is because Bobby has been so miserable.
- Is that all? Not good enough.
Damn it, why can’t they let me have some secrets?
- Part is that I care for Bobby. I really like him.
- Like him as in love him?
- No, not in that way
- Are you sure?
Why hadn’t someone make sure the Torquemadas died out?
- No. To be honest I don’t know. I’m terribly confused and the one thing I know is that I never want to hurt Bobby.

And so it went on. Until they felt assured that my intentions were honorable. That I could be trusted even if a terribly confused boy. Only then did they call Bobby to come down. He sure cleaned up nicely. That shirt, those trousers, that jacket and those polished shoes … I should have got a fancier dress.
- Bring him back before 11. Drive safely. Don’t get him drunk

What kind of boy did they think I was? Or should it be what kind of girl did they think I was? Oh, I never said I was a girl.

I delivered a sane, safe, sober and smiling boy back at 10.55. This time I initiated the kiss. This time both of us participated actively. I don’t think either of us was disappointed. I did not skulk away like Bobby had done. I had to show him how it was done properly. I actually handed him over to his father. A beaming father.

The next game the opponents were crushed.

I had made a basic mistake. I had expected the date to be a one off. Everyone, and I mean everyone, else had another idea. I had made an expensive mistake. I definitely had to get a more fancy dress (or rather three of them). I was also disabused about presenting as a boy in school. That meant everyday girls’ clothing. And what do they put into make-up? Gold dust? It didn’t stop there. Bobby had PE the hour before I did which meant we were in the locker room at the same time. Bobby was visibly upset seeing me, ALL of me. Of course that only happened once. The next day I found myself in girls’ PE including using their locker room. Nobody had bothered to ask or even tell me before the fact. I never said I was a girl. However, my parents had signed off on it. The girls had all approved that I change with them. Many of them cheerleader friends from ballet. The boys’ and girls’ coaches were fine with the change. To be honest I liked it as well. I never was comfortable in boys’ PE. The coach only focused on ball games and if you have 2½D vision instead of 3D those pesky fast-moving balls are a pain, oh you know where*. The girls’ PE was more to my liking. Not to mention it helped my ballet as well. However, my boys’ PE stuff had tobe replaced by shiny tighs and thong leotards. At least that was what Coach Schmidt told me.

Spending time with Bobby was nice. Much nicer than I had expected. He was smart and fun and attentive and caring. I came to look forward to picking him up on Friday nights. Not least because his parents were so nice. The BIG brothers had gone back to college. We were much more alike than I had expected. We had the same twisted sense of humor. We had many interests in common. I mean, how many boys have you come across with whom you could discuss cotton filatures in 1930s Shanghai?

We both were artistic as well. Bobby loved Opera. Not something I had been interested in earlier but he taught me to love it. Bobby was not a bad singer himself. Not like me. We went to an open house at the Opera and there was an opera karaoke. Since no one else wanted to try I did. Afterwards the opera singer who managed the thing called me “brave”. Not good or anything like that but “brave”*. Oh well, I know that I don’t sing as well as my father. When he was a small boy there was a singing teacher (at the time it was singing not “music”) who screened the children. He had each sing in front of him and his dog. If the dog whimpered the child was excused from singing. When my father sang the dog got up and ran out of the room howling*.

To my shame Bobby proved to be a good ballet dancer. He hadn’t danced before but was started dancing to share another interest with me. Different classes of course. He was a beginner. That helped him on football field so much that most of the football team soon could be found in the studio a couple of nights a week. That added to my expenses as well. I couldn’t be seen in the studio in boy mode any more. Not that my cheerleading friends hadn’t made that point (pointe?) even before Bobby started taking classes. But I never said I was a girl. Pink tights, leotards, pointe shoes. Pointe shoes? Yeah, I never said I was a girl which apparently didn’t matter. Even if I wasn’t a girl I could take pointe if my boyfriend wanted me to. That should teach me not to sign him up for ballet without telling him. Not that he didn’t look good in tights. Quite nice buns. Almost as good as my buns of steel. I had got him white tights that were a bit less opaque than he had expected. He was sooo cute blushing in front of his parents in those tights when I picked him up for his first class. That was when I found myself taking pointe. Do you have any idea how expensive pointe shoes are? That was also the last time Bobby didn’t change at the studio. Still embarrassing but less so. He soon got over it.

Once I was on pointe it was only a matter of time before I was made a member of the cheerleading squad. Another surprise. I was only made aware of that when I tried to leave school one afternoon and the girls’ coach asked me where I thought I was going. I never said I was a girl!

Irrelevant according to Coach Schmidt. She also said something about quacking. Why didn’t my parents tell me when they approved things like that? Apparently it’s because they wanted me to be able to face unexpected events. Apparently quite useful when leaving school. Apparently something they wish they had learnt earlier. Sure, but why did I have to suffer for THEIR mistakes? Couldn’t I learn that AFTER leaving school and have at least a semblance of a normal life while still a kid? Not that there was much left of any normal life as it was. Despite all the quacking analogies I never said I was a girl.

Oh what the hell. I liked the girls in the cheerleading squad. Once I got over my initial resentment it was really quite fun. And Bobby liked it. His parents told me how he gushed about it the first time I picked up Bobby after I was shanghaied to be a cheerleader. They even extended his curfew by an hour to show me how much they appreciated me and had come to trust me with their little boy. Did I mention that the first game after that was against our arch enemies? I hope someone swept up the remnants of them afterwards.

Of course cheerleading further depleted my sorely pressed savings. Cheerleader uniform(s), a January camp, higher standard of everyday clothing. But having Bobby in my lap kissing him at the celebration after a victory made it worth it.

To be honest cheerleading was How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Short Skirts. I never said I was a girl but a boy can like the swishing of a short skirt, can’t he? Another expense. Sigh. I was saved by Betty, a fellow cheerleader. Her mother had a teenage girl clothing store at the mall. I got a job there as a salesgirl. I never said I was a girl but I needed the money. Besides I got a 25% discount on everything I bought for myself. I was worth it. I brought many new customers to the store. Even some boys. I’m not the only boy that looks good in a short skirt or dress.

Then my junior year ended. I was invited to Bobby’s senior prom. I never said I was a girl but by that time I only made a token stand. That dress was not cheap, even with the discount (specially ordered just for me). Neither was the salon. However, that was all worth it when I saw Bobby come down the stairs. He sure was the most handsome, most dazzling boy I had ever seen! Obligatory photo session after I had put the flower in his lapel. That night truly was unforgetable.

We made the most of Bobby’s last summer before college. I almost regretted going away to Cheer camp a couple of weeks. Why the fuss about me sharing a room with Betty, Jane and Susan? They were friends. Nothing more, nothing less. And I never said I was a girl so the accusation I had deceived them was ridiculous. Well, all well that’s ends well.

Betty’s mom had ordered the most darling bikini for me. One that accommodated my penis quite well. Penis? I never said I was a girl. I got quite a nice tan.

Bobby went off to college. I went back for my senior year. Bobby and I swore eternal love and sent messages to each other several times a day. I never seriously considered upsetting things as they were. I never said I was a girl but life had settled into quite a nice routine.

At the dance studio I started to dance pas-de-deux with an amazing boy. Fantastic body, incredible technique, overflowing musicality. Sparks flew between us. We were incredibly compatible. The best the studio had ever seen. In the studio and on stage we were just quite simply great together. That was it. He had absolutely no interest in me beyond that. As he explained to me early on he was gay. Completely gay so I was of absolutely of no interest to him outside the studio. Hey, I never said I was a girl!

Bobby and I planned to get one of the one bedroom couple’s apartments at college the next year. That part worried me a bit. I was a bit apprehensive about the physical part that inevitably would follow. Bobby’s parents were less worried. They had great confidence in me. They knew that I’d make sure Bobby was a good boy. They only worried for the first year before I joined him. As things turned out they were quite right to worry. Bobby and I never shared an apartment. College changes a boy. At first things seemed like normal when Bobby came back for the summer break. He had also come back for my senior prom. Another unforgettable night!

The summer started so well. As the song goes We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun. I recovered the tan lines from last summer. I coaxed Bobby into speedoes. We appreciated each other but by mutual agreement going any further would wait until we had our own apartment in the couples’ wing on campus. Then I discovered Bobby’s dark secret. College really does change a boy. The boy I had known the year before never would have done that. We both agreed that it was a case of irreconcilable differences. We remained friends but living together was not in our future.

This caused a small problem when I arrived at campus. We had informed the college that we wouldn’t have the couple’s apartment and that I’d need a place in a normal dorm room. I never said that I was a girl but they assumed I was a girl since I was to have shared a couple’s apartment with Bobby. Why do people always ASSUME so much?!

When I arrived it was too late to change things so I was stuck in a girls’ dorm. I shared room with an amazing girl, Indira. It would be ridiculous to claim she was an elven out of ten. Statements like that are jus silly. However, she was a 9.9, at least. If she hadn’t been so fun and sociable her intelligence would have marked her as a nerd. And she danced ballet like a godess.

Fortunately there were no problems with the girls in the corridor. They recognized that I was no threat to them. They soon pried out my history and a few calls to my “references” settled things. However, I could have lived without their comments about my penis and tan lines in the showers.

Indira and I had a great time at college. We stayed together all the years there. We were almost inseparable.

What about Bobby? I occasionally came across him. We still were friends but there was no spark any longer. However, he seemed to be quite happy being a Young Republican.

Things couldn’t have turned out any better. Except of course that Indira is a committed lesbian.

Too bad I never did say that I’m a girl.

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* From real life