A Boy Called Brook: Summer 3 by Clara Copyright© 2022, 2024 Clara Schuman Brook's summer of feminine exploration is leading to more and more exciting insights into his own sexuality. Things are going along great, until...

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Author's Note: WARNING! This chapter contains EXCESSIVE violence! If you are triggered from such material, please, skip this chapter!
I would like to apologize in advance for having to use this in the story, but, it is necessary to take the story where I wish it to go.

I do hope that you enjoy where the story ultimately takes us! Brooke has a long way to go from this point.

Again, I wish to thank Sephrena for her assistance with the html and to all of my reviewers for their kind reviews and support of my work. Please, continue to let me know what you think about my story, leave a review, it can be good or bad (not too harsh please!)
I am always willing to learn! ~Clara.
 
 
Summer 3
 

The Weathervane truly was nothing special. Just a touristy seafood restaurant on the side of the main road that ran through Kittery, Maine on the way home from York. As someone who had been taught to appreciate good food that is well prepared and presented, I was unimpressed. It was... fine. On a scale of one to ten, it was a solid six - maybe a seven if you really liked fried fish. I LIKE fried fish and it was better than the fried fish my dad brought home from the pizza place on Friday nights sometimes. So... it was fine.

I get why the Kerrs liked it though. It held a lot of memories with their dad. They told me a ton of stories about various visits with their father to the restaurant. The time that dad said this to the waitress. The time that dad told that joke. The time that dad bought them tee shirts. The time that dad said... Obviously, this place held a great deal of sentimental feeling for them and that was great for me to be able to share.

"Dessert, girls?" the waitress asked.

"One Colossal Hot Fudge Sundae and one Wicked Molten Lava Cake, four spoons and four large glasses of milk," Melissa ordered without hesitation.

The waitress looked to Brooke for confirmation. Brooke nodded and smiled. "Coming up," the waitress said.

"So," Elena smiled at me, "how do you like being one of the girls?"

I shrugged. "I just kind of like being 'one of the anythings.'"

"But admit it," she persisted, "you like looking nice, don't you? I mean, I don't want to be mean, but you're a lot cuter today than you looked when we met you."

"That's for sure," Melissa said, raising her eyebrows.

"Hey," Brooke said with a warning tone, "be nice."

"I am being nice," she said. "What I mean is that you look cute now, Brook. I do have to admit, though, I have a hard time believing that you're going to be a senior. I mean, you're like the same size as Elena and she's supposed to be in eighth grade."

That caught me by surprise. "Eighth grade?"

Elena just nodded.

"I thought you two were twins or something."

Brooke chuckled a little. "Nope. Melissa is the talented one and Elena is the brilliant one. She skipped a grade."

"You're talented?" I asked Melissa. "How?"

She shrugged. "I play piano and sing."

"She's being modest," Brooke said. "She can REALLY sing and she plays piano like a pro. You should hear her."

"So, if Elena's the brilliant one and Melissa's the talented one, what are you?" I asked Brooke.

"The pretty one," the two other girls said.

"Yeah, sure," Brooke shook her head. "I'm the bossy one, as you've seen."

"Here we go!" The waitress announced with undo excitement, putting the tray on a tray stand and passing out the glasses of milk, then placing the two oversized desserts in the middle of the table. "Enjoy."

"Oh, God, this is good!" Melissa said in ecstasy, tasting the lava cake.

In my classes we are taught to look for nuisance in flavor. To search for the flavor nodes. The shades of flavor colors. How the chefs and bakers utilize a touch of cinnamon or a hint of cardamom to bring out a completely unexpected flavor.

This tasted just like Hershey's Chocolate Syrup from a can, and you know what... for that night... it was perfect. They were happy and I was happy to be there with them and share time and dessert with them.

"Hey, look at your phone," Elena said at one point.

"Huh," Melissa said. "That's cool."

Brooke shook her head and showed me a text from her mother. 'HI, GIRLS. HOPE YOU'RE HAVING A GOOD DAY. GUESS WHAT! VIC SET UP THE TENT IN OUR BACK YARD SO YOU CAN CONTINUE YOUR ADVENTURE WITH A CAMPING NIGHT. YOUR AIR MATTRESSES, SLEEPING BAGS AND PJS ARE ALREADY IN THE TENT. BROOK CAN JOIN YOU IF HE WANTS. USE THE DOWN STAIRS LAV PLEASE. LOVE YOU. DRIVE SAFELY.'

"What's that all about?" I asked.

"It means your dad is getting lucky," Brooke whispered, sounding a little disgusted. "Mom did the same thing last summer with her old boyfriend. She'd send us out to the tent for the night so she'd have the house to herself."

"Oh," I replied, uncertain as to what else to say.

Just then, my phone chimed. 'HI CHEF. I'M TAKING TOMORROW OFF. I'M NOT GOING TO BE HOME TONIGHT. STAYING WITH PAT. IF YOU WANT A GIRLS NIGHT WITH YOUR FRIENDS THAT'S OK WITH ME. SEE YOU TOMORROW.'

I showed it to Brooke.

"Not as classy as my mom, but at least it's more honest," she said, quietly and shook her head.

Brooke paid the bill with the money her father had given her and we headed home, arriving around nine, just as it was starting to get real dark. We decided to go to my house and watch a little TV before 'camping' in the pretty huge tent that had been set up in the Kerr's back yard. Just to be sure we didn't upset anyone, both Brooke and I sent our respective parent a text to tell them we were back and where we'd be for the next hour or two.

We both received 'Ok' replies.

The girls chose a teen-girl show that I'd never seen before on a streaming service that was pretty silly. Lots of intrigue and female back-biting, but I was just happy to be able to enjoy a little more time in my girly clothes and makeup.

Eventually, though, we used the bathroom at my house to get ready for bed. Brooke took a little extra time and put all of our hair into cute dancer-buns to sleep in and then we went to the tent.

Like I said, it was a pretty big tent. They told me it was a ten-man tent, but I bet you could get more than that in there pretty easily. The four air mattresses were already inflated and there were pillows and a sleeping bag rolled up on each one. I'd brought my sleep shorts with me and a clean tee shirt, and the girls each had a pair of PJs folded on the pillows.

Melissa and Elena turned on a couple of battery operated lanterns that were there for our convenience as well.

"This is really nice," I said, impressed. "Do you guys go camping much?"

"Only in our back yard," Elena chuckled.

"We used to," Melissa explained, "when mom and dad were talking to each other, but it got pretty tense in a tent when they were fighting."

I nodded because I understood. My parents didn't fight that much, but as I remembered our house with both of them living there, things were always pretty chilly between them. I don't think a tent would have been a good idea - even one this big.

Suddenly, Melissa had her back to me and was about to start changing.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Brooke warned.

"Oh!" Melissa said with a laugh. "I guess I forgot you were a guy. She reached up and dropped a panel down, creating a private room in the tent so she could change.

Brooke did the same to a panel by me. "You can change in there." Then she looked at my rolled up shorts and tee and took them from me and looked at Elena. "Hey, El. Want to be a boy tonight?"

Elena laughed. "Sure."

She handed Brooke a neat pile of pink and white checked material.

"Here," Brooke smiled as she handed me her youngest sister's PJs. "Keep your bra and panties on. It'll be more fun for you."

"Yeah?" I asked, uncertainly.

"Sure," she shrugged. "Why not?"

"Ok," I nodded.

Well, it wasn't PJs. It was a very cute, gingham style night gown. It had kind of wide straps over the shoulder, with these ruffles over the chest area, then it just fell loosely to above my knees. Obviously, it was nothing like anything I'd ever worn before and I couldn't believe I was wearing it at that moment. I glanced towards the dividing panel to see if anyone was watching. No one was. I swayed from side to side a bit and it swayed freely about me in such an odd and childish... no... not childish... girlish... way. I couldn't believe I was wearing it, or that I my hair was in a bun, or that I was sharing the tent with three really sweet and pretty girls. It was like every fantasy I'd ever had was coming true!

"Everything ok in there?" Brooke asked.

"I guess," I replied.

"Can I raise the panel?" she asked.

I took a deep breath. "I guess."

When she did, there were three sets of eyes looking at me and three sets of lips smiling at me.

"Aww, you look better than I do in that," Elena said, definitely looking better than I ever did in my ratty shorts and tee shirt.

"Very cute," Brooke said, strangely approvingly. "I like it."

"What do you mean you like it?" I asked.

"I mean," she said, "that I really like how you look right now, and..." she turned to her sisters, "if you two will excuse us, I think that Brook and I need to take a little walk together and talk a bit."

"Ohhh," Melissa said, nudging Elena, then she sang. "Brooke and Brook sitting in a tree..."

"Shut up," Elena said abruptly.

"What's the matter with you?" Melissa said, surprised.

Elena just shook her head at the childish behavior of her older sister.

"We'll be back," Brooke said as she took my hand and unzipped the 'door' to the tent.

"I can't go out there," I said, petrified.

"Of course you can," she said, taking my hand. "It's dark and the yard is fenced in. Come on."

Once again, I was taken by the hand like a child and led by Brooke, this time into the darkness of their yard. She was wearing a tiny, blue tank top with lace around the breasts and tiny, slightly darker blue shorts.

She led me away from the tent, down a little hill, far enough away from the tent so she and I could speak quietly without being over heard.

She laid down in the grass and patted the grass beside her. "Come on," she said. "Lay down here beside me."

Feeling more vulnerable and exposed in the little nightie than I would have naked, I did my best to tuck the skirt of the nightie under me and keep my knees together as I joined her in the grass. At first, we were both on our backs looking at the stars, but after ten minutes or so of quiet talking, she got up on one elbow and looked at me.

She heaved a big sigh before she spoke. "Look, Brook, I have to admit a few things to you right now."

"Like what?"

She thought for a moment. "Ok, umm... I like you, ok. That's the first thing."

"I like you, too," I said.

She shook her head. "That's not what I mean, Brook. I mean I LIKE you. Like... I REALLY LIKE you, and here's the thing, Brook - I've never been the first one to say that to someone else, so that's really weird for me."

"Brooke," I said, "I REALLY like you, too. I really do, and believe me, me saying that at all is a lot weirder than you saying it first."

She let out a little laugh at that. "Ok, but... I don't want this to sound mean, but... you are really different than any other guy I've ever... like-liked before. They've all been..."

"Handsome?"

"You're handsome, Brook. Better yet, you're pretty. No... they've all been... bigger than me. You know... taller and... stronger. This time... I'm the bigger one... the stronger one... and I kind of like that, too."

I just looked at her. What she was saying was certainly true. If she was going to like me, then that's the way it was going to have to be. I was never going to be bigger or stronger than her. That's just the way I was made.

Then she ran a finger down the ruffles of my nightie, between the little breasts created by the bra I'd borrowed from Elena. "Now... here's the weirdest part. I really like it when you look like this."

"Like a girl?"

"No." She played with the ruffles. "Like you, but like a pretty you. Yeah, girlish, I guess, but still you." She ran her finger down my belly and played it over the lump of my penis held captive in Elena's soft panties. "I'm definitely not interested in a girl, Brook, but... seeing you looking so pretty in that cute little nightie and knowing that you're a guy and that you have this..." she flattened her palm gently against my tool, "I can't tell you how exciting that is. I've never thought about a guy like this before." She began massaging me through the nightie and panties and I became rock hard immediately.

She bent low and kissed my lips, softly, but firmly, and she held her lips there for so long, that I raised my arms and wrapped them gently around her neck.

Soon, her tongue worked its way in between my lips and deep into my mouth and she grabbed me down below and squeezed a bit harder. In response, I cautiously slid my hand down her neck and caressed her breast, ready to pull it away if she acted shocked by my actions, but instead, she leaned into my hand and moaned quietly, encouraging me to play with her nipple.

Finally she ended the kiss and raised her head, pressing her chest more firmly against my hand. She stopped manipulating my penis long enough to raise the skirt of my nightie and lower the front of my panties far enough to allow my tool to pop out free of its restraints and she smiled down at me in the semi darkness and whispered, "Am I the first girl you've ever done this with?"

I nodded.

That seemed to please her. She lowered the cup of her lace covered tank top to reveal her beautiful breast, put an arm under my head and leaned a bit lower so I could kiss and suckle her. "Go ahead, Brook."

I took her nipple into my mouth and played with it with my tongue and felt an immediate connection with her. Then I suckled as I continued to play with her nipple and she looked down at me as if I was a child. "Careful, my little one," she whispered. "Not too hard. I'll have a hard time explaining bruises there," she giggled.

Then her hand found my penis again and she wrapped her warmth around it and began running her hand up and down the shaft. No one but me had ever touched me there and no one but me had ever done that to me and, believe me, I had never been that gentle!

"I never thought I'd be attracted to a pretty little guy with long hair that I could put up into a bun. A little guy who would look so cute in a pink and white nightie. But here I am. I think you are just adorable and I am completely taken with you, my pretty, little, girly boy."

She bent low and kissed my neck gently and increased the speed of her hand on my shaft. "So little, so soft and so pretty," she whispered over and over again until I couldn't stand it any more and I burst in a torrent of unfeminine juices all over her hand. "Oops, look what you've done," she teased. "What a messy little thing you are."

"I... I..." I sputtered, uncertain as to whether or not I had done something wrong.

"Don't worry," she smiled. "I'll take care of that." From somewhere, she produced what must have been the pair of panties she'd worn that day and she wiped up the mess I'd made. Then she raised the waist band of my panties to cover my spent organ and lowered the skirt of the nightie.

She leaned over and hugged me tightly. "What do you think the chances are that I could keep you dressed like this twenty four seven?"

"What do you think the chance are that my dad would allow me to live for three seconds if he ever saw me dressed this way?" I asked as we both stood up.

"What if my mother buffered it for you?"

"Oh, come on," I laughed. "Your mom is a beautiful woman, but this is a lot for any father to deal with, and my father doesn't like how I look to begin with. Heck, I don't even know what I look like and I'm pretty sure even I'd be upset if I were my son."

Brooke shook her head. "What a waste. Well, we're definitely going to have to figure out how to find some girlfriend time when your dad is at work."

I sighed. "We'll see."

When we got back to the tent, Melissa and Elena were already half asleep. We crawled into our individual sleeping bags and I could hear Brooke's breathing change to sleep mode pretty quickly. I was too enamored of the new feelings my body was registering from having my hair done up in a bun and being in this pretty little gingham nightie to fall asleep quickly. It took me a good long while to drift off.

That's probably why I was still asleep in the morning when Mrs Kerr and my dad started yelling outside the tent.

"Come on lazy bones! The day is half over! Let's go! Come on! We want to take you all to brunch! You're holding us up! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!"

We all sprung awake.

"Ok!" Brooke shouted. "We'll be right out!" As we all blinked the sleep out of our eyes.

We all jumped out of our sleeping bags and Melissa was about to open the tent door when Brooke stopped her. "Hold on! El. You and Brook need to switch clothes!" She hissed.

"Oh, shit!" I whispered.

I dropped the panel on my side of the tent and took off the nightie as quickly as I could and handed it through. Within seconds, Elena had handed my ratty PJs back to me and I was putting them on.

Melissa was unzipping the door, but Brooke whispered, "Your hair! Your hair! Your hair!" And started undoing my bun as quickly as she could.

It seemed like it took forever, but we got out of the tent pretty quickly.

"Well, there's a motley crew, if ever I saw one," my father teased.

"What time is it?" I asked, yawning.

"Nine thirty," he laughed. "Half the day is gone. Come on. Let's go get you changed and we can go to breakfast with these beautiful ladies."

"Ok," I agreed and headed home with him.

As we walked, he asked. "Have a good time yesterday?"

"Yeah," I smiled. "We had a great time. I'd never seen the ocean before. It was great."

He nodded. "What about the hair?"

"What about it?" I asked, not understanding what he meant.

"It's all wavy. How did that happen? Did you sleep in curlers of something?"

I touched my hair and shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it was wet when I went to sleep or something. I didn't even have it in a pony tail last night."

He glanced over his shoulder as we rounded the corner of the fence into our yard and then, as soon as he was sure that no one could see, he grabbed me by my arm. "Listen, Brook, I told you to be careful with that girl. I know she's pretty and you're a little guy, but I will not have her turn you into her little doll, you got me?"

'Yeah, but that's not what happened, dad..."

"Yeah," he started to sound angry, "well I saw a picture of a dessert that one of the girls sent her mother and I saw you in that picture and I'm not sure what you were wearing, but it sure as hell didn't look like any shirt I ever bought you. What the hell were you doing prancing around in girls' clothing."

"Dad, come on... it was just a shirt. Mine got wet and I had to borrow one to go to dinner. It was no big deal. It was just a plaid shirt. Nothing out of the ordinary."

We were at the foot of our backstairs and he swung me to face him. "Tell me the truth, Brook... are you a fairy?"

"What?"

He shook my arm really hard. "You heard me. Are you a fairy? A queer? A fag?"

"No dad and your hurting me. In fact... I really like Brooke and last night she told me she really liked me too. In fact... we're talking about going out together."

He let me go and thought about that for a moment. "Alright. Well... go get changed. I'll wait here. Make it quick. Wear something nice. We're going to the diner in town."

"Ok," I nodded and ran up the stairs and unlocked the door.

I hurried into the house, kind of wondering what my father might have said if I had told him that I'd slept in a pink nightie, but I was more concerned about getting ready quickly. I hustled into my room, grabbed one of the two polo shirts I owned, a clean pair of boxer-briefs and I pulled off my shirt and sleep-shorts. It was then that I realized I'd need to discreetly dispose of the panties I'd been wearing. For the time being, though, I just wrapped them up in the tee shirt I'd worn that night and I'd hide them in the hamper until I did the laundry. I'd deal with them then.

Then I realized that I had a big problem!

My jeans were still next door at the Kerr's. I'd left them there the day before when I put on the shorts.

I grabbed my phone off the charger where I'd left it the night before and called Brooke and explained the situation.

"I'll be over in ten minutes with them," she said.

"Yeah, well, before you come running over, my dad is sitting on the back stairs and he doesn't know that I wore Elena's shorts."

"Then tell him you wore your sleep-shorts. What difference does it make?"

"Why would I change into my sleep shorts at your house?"

"I don't know..." she hugged. "How about... you were going to bring your jeans, but we told you to leave them because it was too hot. Ok?"

I calmed down. "Yeah, ok. Hurry, though, ok?"

"Ok. I'll be there as soon as I can."

I grabbed my dirty clothes and ran into the bathroom and threw them into the hamper. Then I grabbed my hair brush and went to work on my hair, brushing it as well as I could. Then, I grabbed a black hair tie and made a point tail, again as best I could. I knew it wasn't done as well done as Brooke would have done it, but what else could I do for right then?

"Hey, Chef!" My dad shouted, kind of laughing, "your pants are here!"

I rolled my eyes and hurried to the door. I opened it and leaned out, trying to keep my lower body out of sight, and I reached out to grab my jeans.

"So, how exactly did you end up leaving your pants in Brooke's room?" my dad said, with a snarky look on his face.

"I was going to take them with me, but Brooke told me to leave them behind because it was too hot," I explained.

"Yeah, sure," he said, his voice full of innuendo.

I took the jeans from him, stepped back into the house and pulled them on. "I'm ready," I said, stepping out the door.

Brooke smirked at me. "You did ok on your hair."

"Did I?"

"No," she giggled, "but it's ok. Let's go eat breakfast. I'll help you with it later."

Actually, despite my concerns that someone might mention how I was dressed the previous day or share a picture that would raise an eyebrow (or worse), we had a really nice brunch. Dad and Mrs Kerr seemed to be getting along really well, but I was concerned that, should they, at some point, have a falling out, it could interfere with Brooke and me.

We took the rest of that day as an R&R day and even had some fun throwing around a frisbee in the back yard. That evening, Brooke and I did have a little alone time watching TV, but it wasn't 'alone' enough to revisit the intimacy we'd had the previous night.

The next day, I got dad off to work and got back to my chores, including mowing the lawn, which Brooke helped me with. She heard our push-mower running and came to my rescue. They had one of those John Deere lawn tractors, and she said it was way too hot to be mowing with a push mower, so she took over and had our little yard done in like fifteen minutes.

My dad had left me some money to go grocery shopping and he and Mrs Kerr had already discussed having Brooke take me to the Costco a couple of towns over so I could do the monthly stocking up on non-perishables and frozen things.

Brooke had a list of things to get, too. They didn't have a membership, but they'd use ours.

Since they had nothing else to do, Elena and Melissa tagged along, too. Mrs Kerr gave Brooke a credit card and told her not to spend more than five hundred dollars. My jaw nearly hit the ground. My dad would never trust me with his credit card, number one, and number two, five hundred dollars was a major amount of money in our household. If he gave me some 'fun' money, it was like five bucks, not five hundred!

Brooke and I picked up the paper goods and frozen products on our lists and I got some butter, flour and some cooking oil and other cooking products that I go through pretty quickly while Elena and Melissa went shopping for clothes and treats.

When we were done, we went to find the younger girls so we could check out.

Melissa had gotten a new pair of sandals and a pair of shorts while Elena had gotten a bucket of strawberry twists and a pretty sundress.

"That's really nice," Brooke said, looking at the dress. "Where did you get that?"

"Over this way," Elena said, leading us towards the middle of the warehouse where a substantial display of reasonably priced clothing was set up.

Within a few moments, Brooke had picked out a beautiful summer dress for herself.

"Where do you plan to wear that?" Melissa asked.

"I'll just have to create an occasion," Brooke smirked. She carefully laid the dress in her cart, then looked through the dresses some more, pulling out a very pretty, sage green sun dress. It was nothing really fancy. Just a V neck top with short bell sleeves, a natural waist line, a three tiered skirt that would probably fall to above the knee of the wearer and six oversized buttons down the front enclosure. It was probably too small for Brooke.

"That's pretty don't you think?" she asked me.

"Very," I agreed.

Then she shocked me by holding it up against me. "It'd look pretty on you."

"Stop that," I said, pushing it aside and turning sideways so she couldn't do it again.

"Why?" She looked incredulous. "I want to buy it for you."

"Brooke, you can't just do something like that. I might know someone here. Worse yet, my father might know someone here."

"That's silly," she shook her head. "Boys wear dresses now. At my old school, at least three or four boys wore dresses and makeup to school everyday. You told me you enjoyed it. You shouldn't have to deprive yourself of some fun. Maybe you and I should sit down with your dad and have a chat."

Even though I knew he was at work, I looked around in a panic that he might actually be somewhere close by. "God, don't even joke around about that! The other morning he asked me if I was 'a queer' because my hair was wavy when you took my bun out."

'See," Brooke pouted, "that bun was really cute and I'd like to see you looking like that some more and we can't do stuff like that unless we talk to your dad."

"No," I said, flatly. "Absolutely not. No way. Not now. Not later. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not the next. Not in a week. Not in a month..."

Elena, without looking up from the dress rack, interrupted my panicked screed with, "I would not, could not in a box. I would not, could not with a fox. I will not tell him with a mouse. I will not tell him in a house. I will not tell him here or there. I will not tell him anywhere." Then she smiled at me. "I will not say a girl I am. I will not say that, Sam-I-Am."

Then she looked at Brooke. "You know you're being a bully, right?"

Brooke tsk-ed and shook her head. "You saw how cute he looked in your nightie, El. Some boys are just meant to wear dresses."

"Stop it," Elena shook her head and took my hand. "Come on. We are going to take a break and take a look at the yard furniture. There's a really nice wooden swing I'm going to tell my mom she should buy for our back yard. I want your opinion on it." She looked at Melissa and Brooke. "You two go shopping for ten minutes. I think we all need a break."

"Wow," I said as we walked to the yard furniture section and sat on a very lovely, wooden swing with a canopy top that cost a pretty penny. It had a nice padded seat, too. "I didn't think anyone spoke to Brooke that way."

Elena shrugged. "Usually Brooke is right, but like I said... this time she was being a bully."

We sat and let the swing calm things for a few moments. Then, out of the blue, Elena asked, "Do you want to wear dresses?"

I shrugged. "You know, I really don't know. I know that seems like a stupid answer, but..." I was trying to form an answer, but Elena took my silence for an opening.

"No, not really. I mean being born a girl means that I can wear whatever I want, so I don't really have to explain my choices, but if I started wearing really butch fashions... well... I'm sure I'd probably have to answer some questions, you know?"

I looked at her closely. "Are you really just fourteen?"

She shook her head. "Nope. I'm twelve. I'll be thirteen next month. Mel is fourteen. Why?"

"Because I don't think I ever said anything as insightful as you just said in my whole life," I said.

She giggled. "The other night I was looking at you in my nightgown and I started thinking about what that must be like for a guy and I wrote about it in my journal. That's how I think through things. I write about it in my journal until I reach a conclusion."

"What did you come up with?"

She shrugged. "I think you must like it, right? Or else you wouldn't do it? Even if Brooke asked you to. Can I ask you a really simple question?"

"Sure?"

"Do you wish you were a girl?"

I thought for a second. "No. I don't think I do. I just wish I could be more LIKE a girl without being judged for it. I've found that I do like looking pretty and I'd like to do that without being afraid of getting beaten up for it."

"Ok," she smiled. "I think I understand you, now. Thank you, Brook." She squeezed my hand and smiled.

I felt really good for having said that out loud, too.

We sat there for a few moments, then Elena said, "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"Sometimes, I wish I was a boy."

'Really?" I was surprised. "Why?"

She thought for a moment. "I think... I think I like girls. You know what I mean? Like when I'm with girls and they talk about boys... I just don't get excited the way they do. But then... sometimes I think the same things they think about boys... but about girls."

"So... you think you're a lesbian?" I asked as tactfully as I could, considering I just found out that Elena was twelve years old.

"Yeah," she said matter of factly. "Maybe. I don't know for sure, but I just think it would be easier to feel like that if I were a boy. That's all. Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense," I admitted. I squeezed her hand the way she'd squeezed mine. "Can I tell YOU something, now?"

"Sure."

"I think you might be the smartest human being I have ever met in my life."

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah. That's what people tell me. It's a curse." She giggled and suddenly seemed more like a little girl than the sage I'd been taking with. "May I make one suggestion?"

"Of course," I said, looking at my watch and realizing that the others would be headed our way soon.

"Let her buy you the dress. You know you want it, right? So let her buy it. You don't have to wear it. Put it in your closet as a fantasy and maybe... someday... it'll be a wonderful thing for you to wear... maybe not... and maybe... that precocious, cute girl next door who loaned you her nightie one night could borrow it to go out to dinner or something." She smiled and stuck the tip of her tongue out just a little and made me laugh out loud.

'Ok," I laughed. "Let's go find them."

When we got home, I helped the Kerrs bring in their purchases and then we drove Brooke's Jeep over to our house and unloaded our purchases and put away everything. The last thing I put away was that green dress and I have to admit that I stood at the door of my closet holding that dress on its hanger and looking at it for a long, long time, wondering what it would be like to get all dressed up and going out in it.

And it made my heart flutter just thinking about it.

Finally, I hung it way over to the left in my closet, the part of my closet that kind of extended in behind my wall. Then I took this long, shiny, green, Macintosh style rain slicker that I had for wearing when I had to wait for the school bus on rainy days, and I hung it next to the dress so that it couldn't be seen.

And there it remained - my hidden treasure.

Over the next couple of weeks, Brooke and I got a bit more adventurous and playful with my hair - always when my father was at work, of course. Brooke got creative with her curling iron to give me fullness, or waviness, or even big round curls. Each different look made me want to explore my feminine options more and more - AND - each different look made Brooke more and more amorous and I found myself being the one constantly putting the breaks on our activities.

Of course, I still had to keep up my cooking and cleaning and other housekeeping responsibilities, so my hair adventures would take place in the morning and then have to be undone in the afternoon before my dad came home. When dad got home, the house was always clean, the laundry was always done and dinner was always on the table - and my hair was always in a ponytail and looking as natural as it had the day before.

She bought me a few more dresses, too, but I didn't do anything more than try them on before they took residence behind my green slicker. They were all a little too pretty to just throw on for a few hours and wear around the house. They all would have needed some nice undies to go with them. So, in my closet they remained.

Except for this one, mustard yellow tee shirt dress that she bought me. It honestly looked just like a regular tee shirt except it was the length of a dress. At first I thought it was a nightshirt, but Brooke assured me it was a dress and showed me the picture of it on the web site from which she'd ordered it.

Well, I tried it on and it was really, really comfortable. So, since I was doing the laundry that day, I threw my jeans in the washer and spent the morning in the dress. No bra or anything, mind you, just the dress, and Brooke did my hair nicely in a messy bun.

It was fun. I had a good time doing my chores and cooking in the loose dress, and Brooke had a good time teasing me and being fresh with her hands whenever possible. It was a fun day, but it nearly ended in disaster.

I was folding the laundry just moments after I'd put a fish casserole for both my family and Brooke's into the oven, and Brooke was straightening my hair and putting it back into it's usually evening ponytail when my dad pulled into the driveway almost an hour early. We didn't even notice he was there until we heard him on the the stairs! There was no way I could make it to my bedroom without being seen, so I grabbed my jeans from the pile of clean clothes and bolted into the bathroom just before he stepped into the kitchen.

"Hi, Mr Chapin," I heard Brooke greeting my dad. "You're home early."

"Hi," dad said, sounding surprised to see Brooke and not me. "Yeah, I am. I had a dental appointment. Where's the chef?"

At that moment, I stepped out of the bathroom with my tee shirt dress tucked into my jeans like a tee shirt and the sound of the toilet flushing ringing in the hallway. "Dad?" I said, sounding surprised. "You're home early."

"Yeah," he laughed. "I went to the dentist. Something smells good."

"Oh, yeah," I smiled. "Seafood casserole. I wish I knew you were coming home early. I would have put it in earlier."

"Oh, yeah, well, I lost a filling during lunch and the dentist had an opening so I left work early and had the filling replaced. No big deal. This will give me time to shower." He walked away from us towards his room and we didn't see him again until dinner, but it was far too close a call for me.

"No more playing dress up," I whispered to Brooke.

She just sighed at me as if I was no fun. I think she enjoyed the close call.

We still had plenty of fun, though, but everyday Brooke asked me what I was going to do about my crossdressing in the long term and my response was always, "I don't know."

Several times I said that I wished I could leave my hair nicely done so we could go out to a movie or something and Brooke would say, "Then we have to talk to your father," but I would just sigh and shake my head.

More than once I talked about wanting to get my ears pierced and Brooke would say, "Then we have to talk to your father," but I would just sigh and say 'nope.'

We, the Kerr girls and I, went to a fireworks display one summer night, and it was really hot and I mentioned that I wished that I could wear one of those nice, cool, summer dresses in my closet, and Brooke said, "Then we have to talk to your father," but I just sighed and shook my head.

There was no way I could talk to my father about this. I didn't know how he'd do it, but I knew he'd kill me, if he knew I wanted to wear dresses.

So, we just played our dress-up games. I figured it'd end when school started, anyway. We did have a couple of outings of course, another trip to Maine and one to Cape Cod, and each of those afforded me the opportunity to wear something of Elena's. I never dared to go as far as a dress, of course, but cute shorts with a pretty top was the norm. It was fun. I was one of the sisters as far as the rest of the world was concerned snd I loved that.

It was the second week of August and we had planned a trip to another beach, but the weather forecast wasn't with us, so we decided to stay home and have a movie day at the Kerr's house with the monstrously huge TV they'd had installed in their living room. Dad had taken a vacation day to spend with Mrs Kerr, assuming that he'd have their house alone with her, but we messed that up on him. So, they decided to take a trip to Yankee Candle Factory somewhere out in the western part of the state. To tell you the truth, the idea of my father going to a perfumed candle factory made me laugh a bit. He must really have been smitten with Mrs Kerr.

Anyway, they left late in the morning and we set up camp in the Kerr's living room. A huge bowl of freshly popped, buttered popcorn, cookies and brownies that I'd baked from scratch the night before, cans of very unhealthy soda and lots of equally unhealthy candy combined with every streaming service known to mankind.

We started with a Disney movie called 'The Princess and The Frog,' a film that they all knew by heart, but I'd never seen before.

"How can you have never seen this before?" Melissa asked, shocked. "It's like the best movie ever!"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I just never saw it."

"Unbelievable," she said, despairingly.

I liked the movie, though. It was colorful and funny and the songs were really good, especially one called "Almost There" that the lead character sang.

That was followed up by a movie called 'Mean Girls' that was really funny. I recognized a lot of the actors in the movie from other movies and TV shows I had seen.

The day went on like that, one movie after another. Each one was great and they were all new to me.

By mid afternoon, the rain was coming down really hard outside. The thunder and lightning was putting on a sound and light show of its own that was pretty cool. We took a break to eat grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for supper and sat on their screened in porch to watch the rain come down.

At about six o'clock, the girls got a text from their mom. 'WE'RE BACK, BUT WE DON'T WANT TO BOTHER YOU. WE'LL WATCH TV AT VIC'S FOR A WHILE. ENJOY!'

That was cool.

Eventually, we were back in front of the TV watching movies. We were about an hour into 'Miss Congeniality' when I got a text from my dad. 'GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE AND I MEAN NOW.'

I sat up quickly, catching Brooke's attention. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know." I showed her my phone.

Just then, Mrs Kerr came in from the rain in my long, shiny, green, Macintosh style slicker. "Oh shit!" I said in a panic.

"Hi, everyone!" Mrs Kerr half sang. "Brook, I hope you don't mind. Your dad loaned me your rain coat to get home in this deluge."

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," I muttered as I stood and pulled on my sneakers. "I'm dead. I am so fucking dead."

"Calm down, Brook," Brooke said, trying to hold onto me, "it'll be ok."

"What's going on?" Mrs Kerr asked, taking off the slicker, suddenly concerned.

"I'll explain in a minute," Brooke said to her, then she said to me, "I'll go with you and tell him it was all my doing."

"No!" I shouted, too loudly. "That'll just make it worse."

"No, I'm going," Brooke argued, but I grabbed my coat from Mrs Kerr and Mrs Kerr grabbed Brooke by the arm.

The last thing I heard as I ran out the door was Mrs Kerr asking, "Explain to me exactly what is going on here."

I ran home as quickly as I could in the rain. I was petrified of what awaited me, but even more scared of what dad would do if I made him wait.

He was standing in the kitchen when I came in the back door.

"Dad, I can explain..." I tried, but I stopped when he threw one of my dresses at me and it hit me in the face.

"Dresses!?" he shouted. "What the fuck are you doing in this house - IN MY HOUSE - when I am at work? Are you dressing up like a girl and going out looking for boys or something?"

"Dad, no..."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU LITTLE LYING FAIRY," my father screamed at me, his face less than an inch from mine. "Do you have any idea how hard I work to put food on the table and keep a roof over your head? And while I'm out breaking my back, you're here flouncing around like some little Tinkerbell, embarrassing me in front of my neighbors. Well, that's just fucking wonderful!"

"Dad..."

"I told you to shut up!"

I never even saw the backhanded slap that he hit me with. I only knew that my head snapped sideways and my world began spinning. "Dad..." I muttered, feeling disoriented.

"Enough" I heard, but I felt a slap that knocked me in the other direction.

"Please..."

Another slap.

"Dad..." my world was spinning and dimming and I was getting confused as to what was happening. All I felt was pain and confusion. I opened my mouth and I think I tried to speak, but if anything came out it probably wasn't coherent. It didn't seem to matter much, though because my dad was yelling and slapping me pretty much nonstop at that point.

As things started to dim, I heard some things that I remembered later - Faggot - Fairy - Liar - Mr Chapin - Stop! - Out! - Vic! - Stop it!...

Then... darkness.

The next thing I remember is the bitter smell of ammonia from the smelling salts that the EMTs were using to revive me and a woman with a slightly deep voice was saying, "...that's it sweetie... you're going to be ok. Just relax. Don't try to sit up. Relax."

Then I saw Brooke beside me, leaning over me, holding something onto my face and looking out of sorts.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Your father beat the shit out of you, that's what happened," Brooke spat.

That cleared my head faster than smelling salts ever could. "Oh," I said and tried to sit up, but the EMT pushed me back down.

"No. You just stay right there for a few minutes. I'll let you know when you can get up." She shined a light in my eyes and pulled my eyelids wide open.

"Is he ok?" Brooke asked.

"I don't see any sign of concussion," the EMT said, "but he's pretty bruised up."

"Where's my dad?" I asked and that's the first I was aware of the pain in my jaw.

"The asshole is in the living room with the police."

"The police!? Ahh..." As I was regaining my senses, everything was starting to hurt. "Who called the police?"

"I did." Brooke looked at me and shook her head. "He was going to kill you, Brook. My mom couldn't even pull him off of you. When you fell down, he was kicking you! We had to call the police."

I tried to sit up, again, but even if the EMT hadn't pushed me back, I don't think I was ready to. "This is all my fault. I have to talk to them."

"YOUR fault?" Brooke shook her head. "That animal beat you half to death and this is YOUR fault? You must have a concussion. You're not making any sense." That was when I realized that Brooke was holding one of those chemical ice packs on my face. She moved it to another spot and the act of touching a new area sent a wave of pain through me as if I was being slapped all over again. "Ooh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said. "I'll be gentle." She bent low and kissed my forehead. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."

The EMT returned her attention to me and said, "Can you understand what I'm telling you, sweetheart?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Ok, good." She smiled as reassuringly as possible. "We're going to transport you to the university hospital just for an overnight observation, ok? We want to make sure you don't have any internal injuries and it might be best if the doctors had a good look at you, too. They might be able to help with the pain, too. Ok?"

"Ok," I grunted back. Actually, the pain was starting to come on pretty strong at that point.

"Can I go with him?" Brooke asked.

"I'm afraid, not," the EMT said with an understanding tone. "He's eighteen, so he'll have to go alone."

"Can I meet him there?"

"Well, I doubt they'll let you see him for several hours..." she said, then walked away to avoid saying anything more disappointing.

"What about my dad?" I asked before she went too far away, and the effort of raising my voice really hurt.

"I... will ask," she said with a sad smile.

"I hope he goes to jail," Brooke said, but honestly that was the last thing I wanted. What would I do if my dad went to jail? I had no one else.

Eventually a police officer came to where I was laying. The EMT'S raised me up and that was when I realized I was on a gurney. The officer was pretty young, actually. Probably only a few years older than me. "Hey! How you doing?" she asked cheerfully.

"I've been better," I groaned.

"I bet," she nodded. "Ok, so, look... you're going to have to go to the hospital for the night, ok? And your dad is going to go with us for tonight..."

"No, no," I groaned out. "Please. It wasn't his fault. I got him mad at me. He never did this before..." I tried to sit up again, but she pushed me back.

"Ok, calm down, calm down..." the officer said. "It doesn't matter. He's going with us and tomorrow morning he'll face a judge and enter a plea..."

I don't know what else she said because I was crying hysterically at that point and begging them not to arrest my father. Brooke bent down and hugged me gently to keep my convulsions at bay as I sobbed and sobbed and begged and begged, but they pulled her off of me as they strapped me to the gurney and began to take me out to the ambulance. I think I heard my dad shouting apologies to me, but I was making too much noise and I was in too much physical and emotional pain for his voice to make its way to my brain. I really don't know what was going on and I blacked out again until the next morning when I woke up in the hospital.
 
 
To Be Continued...