Two lonely high school students walk parallel paths.  One, impoverished and losing hope, yearns desperately to become their authentic self. The other, wealthy and the victim of unfathomable manipulation, resists changing to something they never wanted to be. Can these two, meeting amidst the clatter and chatter of the school cafeteria, find connection? Can they embrace their fractured selves and each other and then become whole? Or will a duplicitous villainess, in the guise of a loving mother, destroy their fragile hope and leave them living a miserable, incomplete existence?

The cafeteria was buzzing with sound, as usual. Clanking metal flatware and clacking plastic trays mixed with the hum of conversation and the frequent echoes of laughter. Jeremy Joad, sitting all alone at the broken table in the far corner, didn’t hear any of it. His cheap earbuds blasting heavy metal music from his ten-year-old Android phone drowned out the world. He picked at his bland meal, hoping to survive another day.

Anyone who saw Jeremy would think that the small, skinny kid was just your typical brooding teen with long stringy blond hair, pale skin and an always unhappy expression on his face. But behind the blue eyes, below thin eyebrows, there was a secret none could guess.

Jeremy felt the table shift and looked up with a practiced expression of annoyance. A girl he recognized but never met set her tray down, causing the table to wobble in that direction. The look on Jeremy’s face must have startled the girl. She picked up her tray to leave.

The seated boy spoke. “You’re the new girl.” It wasn’t a question.

The girl, looking down at her disgusting tray of food, nodded silently.

Jeremy felt bad, taking in the only person he’d ever seen who looked sadder than he felt. “It’s okay. You can sit here. Not sure why you’d want to, but…” He extended his hand in a welcoming gesture toward the empty chair across from him.

The girl paused, biting her lip pensively, the tray still in her hands. She seemed to consider her options. In the end, she set the tray back on the table, which wobbled again. She then hung a small purse on the back of the chair and sat opposite Jeremy.

The girl pulled out a brand-new iPhone and began scrolling and reading while picking at her green beans and grilled chicken.

Jeremy stole glances at her. She was cute. Not classically pretty, really, but still attractive. Her dark eyes were wide and innocent, reminding him of his favorite anime character, Shoko Komi. And rich. The girl was wearing the latest Apple earbuds and had the newest watch from Cupertino on her arm. Her earrings were lovely diamonds and her blouse and shoes were designer. Jeremy knew these things. He studied fashion and envied those who could afford…who could wear…such things.

The girl’s nails were flawlessly manicured. The nails weren’t long, but they were covered in a creamy blue polish that glowed with quality. The fingers and hands attached to those nails were not elegant, but the skin on them was smooth and lightly tan. Her makeup, too, was expertly applied and, along with her stylish brunette hair, made the best of her facial features.

She caught him looking and Jeremy quickly went back to his meal, embarrassed.

Neither of them spoke, but they were paying attention.

The girl studied Jeremy, too. She’d sat here for no reason other than seeing another lonely looking kid all alone would likely mean fewer questions. Less conversation.

An announcement over the cafeteria speaker broke their tense silence. “Amber Newhouse, please report to the Guidance Office.”

The girl stopped mid chew and sighed. She threw her fork down and stood. As she reached for her purse, it fell off the chair and landed on her foot. The open bag overturned and its contents spilled onto the tile floor. A lipstick and pen fell beside the chair and a sunglasses case bounced under the table. She picked up the items and then looked into the purse. Something was missing.

Jeremy reached beside his foot and picked up an object that had rolled up beside his worn out athletic shoe.

He glanced at her and their eyes met. A look of abject terror formed on the girl’s face as Jeremy held up a prescription bottle of pills. He absently noticed the label. “Amber Newhouse. Estradiol-Formula X87. Take one pill three times daily with meal.” His eyes bugged with recognition and he looked up at the girl, whose panicked look had only intensified.

She looked around, wondering if anyone had seen what the boy held. He followed her eyes, looking where she did. Jeremy’s heart pounded. He held something precious. Something he’d give anything to possess.

The girl lunged at him, snatching the bottle and then running as fast as she could on her two-inch heels toward the cafeteria door. Jeremy stood there, motionless, as the cute girl wearing the short skirt and heels passed through the exit and into the hallway. “Fuck.” As he sat back down, he saw something else on the floor. Leaning over, he picked up the bottle of “Milky Sky” nail polish.

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Amber slammed the passenger door of the Bentley as she turned to her mother, angry tears streaming from her face. “Why did you do that?!”

Beverly Newhouse took a drag from her cigarette and blew smoke toward the open car window before turning to answer. “Do what, honey?”

“Why did you have the guidance counselor call me to her office? Why is she in charge of my meds?”

The forty-year-old woman put the car in drive and drove away. “I had to make sure you took your medicine, dear. Didn’t I? And students aren’t allowed to take meds at school without supervision. Don’t be so cross, Amber. You know it’s for your own good. ”

“Don’t call me that! I know who I am and it’s not…that name. Calling me that doesn’t change anything.”

Beverly batted her impossibly long eyelashes and sighed. “We’ve been through this so many times, dear. Why do we have to keep repeating this discussion? Andrew is dead. He died tragically in a skiing accident in Switzerland. You are Amber, the poor fifteen-year-old girl I adopted to make up for the loss of my precious only son.”

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Jeremy walked into the dirty mobile home he shared with his father and went straight to his tiny room. His father would be home from work in an hour, and this was the only time he’d have to himself. He slid the small suitcase he’d hidden under the bed out and placed it on the tiny cardboard dresser.

He opened the case to reveal the small collection of panties, bras, stockings, and a few pairs of shorts and tops he’d accumulated over the last four years. Some belonged to his mother and others were things he’d snatched from clothes lines or shoplifted. Jeremy hadn’t opened the suitcase in over a month, since running out of the birth control pills he’d managed to trade for or buy from girls his age. But seeing this Amber girl at school had reawakened the dragon that he tried so hard to suppress.

He plucked his favorite pair of panties and matching bra from the case along with a revealing cut off top. They weren’t exactly clean, but he didn’t care. Digging deep into the bottom of the case, he found the item that had been on his mind ever since Amber walked out of that cafeteria.

Stripping out of his hooded sweatshirt, pants, and other male clothes, he quickly pulled on the panties and bra. Jeremy was disappointed to see that hair had grown back on his pale legs, but there wasn’t time to shave them. He put on the top that had had belonged to his mother. She used to call it her “get fucked top” as it left no doubt what the wearer was after.

Last, he pulled on the skirt. It was a very close match to the one Amber was wearing, and he fantasized about her all afternoon. The idea of dressing like her consumed his mind. The idea of being like her was too much to imagine. Rich bitch!

He’d thought about the pill bottle. It could just be for some medical condition. It didn’t mean she was trans. She looked too feminine to be trans. Or maybe I’m just jealous.

Jeremy stood in front of the tiny mirror atop the bathroom sink and brushed out his scraggly shoulder-length hair as best he could. He put on lipstick. It was an ugly shade of rusty red, but it was all he had. The image facing him wasn’t awful, though, he had to admit. He’d delayed some of the worst effects of puberty by taking the birth control pills since he was thirteen, so his face was still largely free of beard and hadn’t squared off like most boys did as they went through adolescence. If it was dark enough, Jeremy thought, he might even pass.

No, he didn’t look too bad. But he looked nothing like Amber.

He stepped back into the small, messy den and stood where the light was best. The obsession with putting on that skirt that day was joined by a decision. For too long, Jeremy had hidden who he was. Even if he wasn’t sure whether Amber was trans, he was sure there was something different about her. He extended his arm and turned the low-res camera of the old phone to selfie mode. Jeremy smiled and snapped several shots, trying to get at least one that captured who Jasmine was.

As he took the last shot, he heard a key in the door and bolted for his room.

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At school the next day, Jeremy looked for this mysterious Amber girl. He was two years ahead of her, a junior, so they didn’t have any classes together. She didn’t come back to the cafeteria that day, and his plan to approach her seemed doomed. The only reason he knew she was a new sophomore student at the school was because he’d overheard a couple of stuck up girls in the hallway talking about her after she walked by the week before. Jeremy remembered looking at her, assuming she was just another lucky enough to be born a biological girl.

Two days later, though, Jeremy got the chance. Though it wasn’t the circumstances he’d hoped for. One of the freshmen girls he’d overheard talking cattily about Amber was standing by her locker. Jeremy approached her and asked if she’d seen Amber. The girl recoiled as if Jeremy were carrying some disease. She towered over his five-foot-six frame in her heels. “Why? So you can invite her back to your slimy hole? Get away from me, creep.”

This type of rejection was nothing new, and Jeremy was about to silently comply when her boyfriend, a senior sports star, shoved him against the wall. Jeremy didn’t put up a fight, but that didn’t keep him from getting a black eye from the tall stud.

It was while waiting outside the nurse’s office twenty minutes later that Jeremy saw Amber. She was visiting the guidance counselor across the hall from the nurse. He got up and followed her down the hall. Amber paused at the bathrooms, seeming to be unsure. Jeremy took advantage of this hesitation and approached.

“Um, Amber. Hi.” His voice was soft and unsure. She was a couple of inches taller than him, and, wearing heels, she also towered over him. “I’m, J…Jeremy.”

Amber winced at seeing Jeremy’s already swelling eye. She looked both ways down the hall before responding. “I remember. From the lunchroom.”

She hadn’t spoken that day in the cafeteria. Her voice was soft and sweet. It didn’t fit with what he thought she was. Jeremy nodded. “Yeah.”

There was a long silence, but then Amber spoke again, “I have to get to class.”

“Wait. Here. You dropped this the other day.” He extended his arm and presented her nail polish.

“Oh. Thanks. I was…” Amber hesitated. The hand holding the polish caught her eye. The thumb was painted in the “Milky Sky” polish. “…looking for that.”

She reached for the bottle. Jeremy held onto the polish and then took her hand in his soft one. He swallowed hard and said with all the courage he had, “I’m trans. Are you?”

The tall girl took a step back. “What?…um. Th…thanks for the polish. I have to go.” Amber pulled away and turned toward the hallway filling with students changing classes, and disappeared, leaving Jeremy standing there…hopeful. She didn’t say ‘no.’

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Amber couldn’t concentrate in class. She had two things consuming her thoughts. First, she needed to pee. The interruption in front of the bathrooms meant that she never got to go and the pressure on her bladder was making it hard to focus. Second, she held a note written in a flowery handwriting that had been wrapped around the bottle of polish.

“Hi, Amber,

I saw the pills in the cafeteria. I’m sorry I upset you. I think you’re like me. Well, you’re like me, but much prettier. I uploaded a pic of me (the real me) to imgur.com/pic93s8erh. If you would like to talk sometime, please text me. My phone number is 843-555-3212.

Jasmine.”

Finally, Amber couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t wait till the next class break to go back to the bathroom. She approached her chemistry teacher and asked for a hall pass. She made her way down the now empty corridor and then, looking both ways, passed the boy’s bathroom and ducked into the girl’s and then into a stall.

Amber dropped her skirt and sat to pee. Normally, “Andrew” wouldn’t give in to this feminine act, but standing to pee in the girl’s bathroom was too risky. As she sat, curiosity got the better of her and she opened Chrome and then an Incognito session on her phone.

She’d become pretty adept at manipulating the phone with her longer nails, and soon the Imgur page opened. The picture quality wasn’t great, but the face staring into the camera hit her hard. That’s the same kid? The same boy? He’s…she’s cute.

Amber zoomed in to the face. Clearly, Jeremy had been keeping his eyebrows extra neat and the blue eyes looking into the camera were sweet and curious. Despite the clown-like appearance of his lips with the gaudy lipstick, “she” was pretty. And Amber found herself getting a soft erection for the first time in over a year. No. No. No. That’s a guy. I’m not into guys.

She closed out the browser and did her best to re-tuck and get dressed again before returning to class.

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The rest of the week, Jeremy looked for Amber. I must have fucked it up. I thought for sure she’d text me. But he didn’t see her…until Friday after school. He saw her getting into a fancy car. She saw him, too, and waved sadly as she closed the car door and then was gone. He watched the car pull away. He knew Amber was wealthy, but now knew just what that meant. She was one of those Newhouses.

Jeremy walked home that afternoon, deciding to skip the bus ride. The black eye from the hall altercation had been the source of questions and ridicule, and he just wasn’t in the mood to listen to that all the way home. And he needed time to think. I thought we’d connected. But why hasn’t she texted? And what about the wave? Does any of it mean she is trans after all? Jeremy was so used to people treating him like he lived in the literal gutter that any friendly gesture gave him an outsized measure of hope.

It was about a two-mile walk from the school to the trailer park, but there was a shortcut path through the woods that was safe, and the day was sunny. This was his favorite walk, especially this time of the year when all along the trail, the Carolina Jasmine were blooming. Their sweet fragrance filled the air and the pretty yellow blossoms seemed so cheerful. It was on this path four years ago that Jeremy decided on what his female name would be.

Despite it being the weekend and despite the nice weather and the flowers, he was sadder than ever. Jeremy had noticed whiskers appearing on his upper lip and chin and knew that the inevitable was starting to happen and his chance to be Jasmine was quickly disappearing. He thought back to the pill bottle. I’m the one who should have run from the cafeteria holding that bottle. If I had it, I’d be able to stop all this for a while.

Jeremy’s mood darkened further as he approached the old single-wide trailer. His father was sitting on the rickety wooden porch with a neighbor woman. I guess he got off work early. They were well into a six-pack of beer…each, and when they saw Jeremy coming and smiled, he knew this was going to be trouble.

“C’mon, boy. You remember Annie here, right?”

“Yes, sir. I do. How are you, Ms. Jordan?”

“I’m fine, Jeremy. Gettin’ finer by the beer! And you can call me Annie. Quite the shiner you got there. Your dad was just telling me about it.” She laughed. One of those drunken laughs accompanied by a cigarette cough.

The woman was probably thirty-five, but life had been consuming more years than had passed. Tattoos tracked both arms and one, a “Betty Boop,” stuck its head out from the top of her exposed bra. She wasn’t fat, but she would be. She wasn’t ugly, either, but there was something that made Jeremy shiver when she was around. He’d seen men leaving many mornings as he made his way to school. Never the same man twice.

Clint Joad, Jeremy’s father, motioned for him to join them. His father was not a friendly man normally. There was a narrow window, though, between sober and drunk where he was gregarious. And Jeremy had walked up while that particular window was open. He squeezed Jeremy’s shoulder and turned to Annie. “Like I was saying, my boy got into a fight this week. Took on some stud athlete. I think maybe he’s ready to be a Joad man.”

He took a slug of beer and then turned to Jeremy. “Annie and I were talking. I think you deserve a little something for not letting some rich football star push you around.”

Annie smiled and winked at the boy.

Jeremy didn’t ask what the offer was. Something told him it was not something he wanted to hear.

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Late that night, Jeremy lay in his bed sobbing. In the next room, his father and Annie were going at it like rabbits. Jeremy had his music turned up, but the sound didn’t drown out the banging of his father’s bed frame against the thin mobile home walls.

But Jeremy wasn’t crying because of what was going on in the other bedroom. He was crying about what had happened earlier in his own room. The “offer” mentioned that afternoon on the porch was for Annie to, as his father said, “make a man out of you.” And it seemed Jeremy had no choice in the matter.

By the time Annie left Jeremy’s room, an hour after she’d followed him in there, Clint Joad was well past friendly and into abusive mode. No, Jeremy hadn’t been able to perform. And Annie had seemed a mix of amused and insulted at this. And so Clint took to calling Jeremy every homosexual slur known to man. “You skinny-ass faggot! You’re almost eighteen and you’re a virgin? I’d already gotten a girl pregnant by the time I was your age. What the hell is wrong with you? Must be your momma’s fucked up genes.”

The insults didn’t just come from Jeremy’s failure to satisfy or be satisfied by Annie. They came more from what Clint saw when he entered his son’s room and turned on the light. Jeremy was lying naked, with Annie doing her best to give him a blowjob. There, Clint got the first look at his son’s body in years.

The birth control pills weren’t powerful enough to feminize the boy’s body, but he was smooth and hairless, with slightly puffy nipples and no muscles. His toes were painted in a soft pink that Jeremy had planned to remove after school, but never got the chance. He’d shaved his legs earlier that week when he thought he’d be talking to Amber, too, and the small amount of stubble growing gave away the fact that he wasn’t hairless, but had, in fact, removed the hair.

Annie could see the look in Clint Joad’s eyes and got to her feet, grabbing her clothes. She’d been around enough men to know that this might get ugly. She took Clint’s hand. “C’mon, honey, I need you to finish what Jeremy started. You spent the money. Might as well get your money’s worth.” As she pushed the man out of the room, she looked back at Jeremy and winked.

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As Jeremy lay there in bed, a mix of sweat and tears clinging to his body, a miracle occurred. Or so it seemed to Jeremy. In the middle of Black Sabbath’s “Supernaut,” and just as his father apparently made Annie see God, Jeremy’s phone interrupted the song momentarily for a text notification. Jeremy paused the music and opened the text.

“Hi, Jasmine. This is Amber. Sorry I haven’t texted. Life is complicated. I saw ur picture. I think u make a cute girl. Can u meet me at the Starbucks on Hwy 20 tomorrow around 11:30am?”

With trembling fingers, Jeremy texted back. “Yes! CU there!”

He read and re-read Amber’s message over and over. I was right!

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Amber walked into the Starbucks that Saturday and looked around. Sitting in the back corner sat someone who she assumed was Jeremy. She could only see him from the side, and his usual hoodie was pulled low over his face. In front of him was a small coffee, a “Short” in Starbucks sizing. But as soon as she saw his thumb, now painted in a soft purple, she knew it was him.

Nervously, she approached his table. “Hi Jasmine.” Jeremy looked up and Amber gasped. “What happened to you?”

Jeremy’s yellowed black eye from school was joined now by a split lip and a cut on his opposite cheek. He also had a bruise on his neck and a cut across his left hand. He shrugged, licking the cut on his lip.

“Who did this to you?”

Jeremy shrugged again.

 Amber sat down and took Jeremy’s hands. “Doesn’t matter. I’m so sorry, Jere…Jasmine.” Her voice was soft and feminine.

He tried to smile. Amber’s touch was heaven. “No. Don’t be sorry. I stood up for myself. My father did something that…”

Jeremy stopped there, but Amber didn’t reply, seeming to wait for him to finish. The silence was more uncomfortable than Jeremy could bear. He continued, “Well, he tried to get me to…be with…this woman.” Jeremy trailed off, but then picked up again. “And I hated it. I told him I’d never be who he wanted me to be. Never be like him.” Jeremy laughed nervously, rambling and speaking more and more rapidly. “I needed to say that. And you know what? I have you to thank. Your text last night was what I needed. Seeing you. Seeing that a transition can look…beautiful…gave me the courage to finally tell him to leave me the fuck alone.”

Amber looked mortified at the long disconnected speech she’d heard from this kid she’d just met. “My text? What? Me beautiful?” She shook her pretty head as his words fully registered. “No. I’m not some ideal. You’ve got this…you don’t understand. I’m…I’m…I’m not trans.” She took a step back. “This was a mistake. I need to go. Sorry.”

Now it was Jeremy’s turn to look stricken. “Wait! You’re not? But the pills. And you seeing the guidance counselor and your text. I…I don’t understand.” He buried his bruised face in his painted-nailed hands. “Oh god! I’ve totally screwed this up!”

She paused and sighed, stepping toward him again. “No, Jasmine! No. You haven’t done anything wrong. I promise. I’m not trans…but I am transitioning.”

He looked up from his hands. “You mean you’re a girl wanting to be a boy?” He gestured to her designer clothes and her now even longer manicured nails and her perfect makeup. “But you look…”

She sat and took his hand. “No. It’s the other way, like you guessed before. I was born a boy. It’s…my mom. She’s the reason I’m…”

“You mean don’t want to look like that? Be pretty?”

“It’s a long story and I don’t have time today to tell you. I was only able to meet you because I was in this strip mall getting my nails done. I’m made to come here twice a month. My mother will be here to pick me up in about ten minutes. I just wanted to thank you for returning my polish and apologize for not texting and for how I acted in the cafeteria.” This was a lie. She’d been dying to meet Jasmine ever since she saw the image Jasmine had sent.

“Can’t you tell your mom to come back later? Please.”

Amber looked at the bruised and battered boy in front of her. He looked nothing like the picture he’d uploaded; the picture she’d stared at for hours since he sent her the link info. Actually, the picture that Andrew had longingly looked at all those hours. But as Amber gazed into those swollen eyes, she realized she needed to stay. She wanted to stay.

“Okay. I’ll try. Follow my lead.” Amber pulled the huge iPhone from her Coach purse and spoke. “Siri, call the number one bitch of the world.”

Siri answered, “Calling Beverly Newhouse.”

After two rings, a female voice came on, sounding impatient. “What is it, Amber?”

“Um, they screwed up my appointment. It was supposed to be for noon, not 10am.”

“Why are you just calling me now?” Beverly sounded suspicious.

“They were going to try to work me in, but they can’t. So, I knew you were on the way soon and…”

“What are you trying to pull?” Amber’s mother sounded even more agitated. People at the next table turned to look.

“Nothing. I promise. Here. I’ll let you talk to Jasmine. She’s the receptionist.” Amber handed the phone to Jeremy and motioned for him to back her up.

Jeremy closed his eyes and spoke in a different voice. “Um, this is Jasmine.”

“What’s this shit about the appointment being wrong? I have it on my calendar and I am never wrong.”

“Um, no Mrs. Newhouse, it’s our mess up. This new computer…”

“That’s always the excuse. The computer messed up. You need to come up with new lies, Jessie.”

“It’s Jasmine. But, yes ma’am. You’re right. I’ll speak to my manager. I’m so sorry. But we’ll take good care of Amber and have her ready to go by 1:30. Okay?” Jeremy looked up at Amber and stared into her wide eyes. “She’s a beautiful girl.”

Beverly paused and then sounded mollified. “Yes. Yes, she is pretty. Hard to convince her of that. Maybe you can tell her.”

“I already have, Mrs. Newhouse.” Jeremy smiled at Amber.

Another pause. “Okay. I’ll see you at 1pm, Jessie. Her nails better look fabulous.” Beverly hung up.

Jeremy handed the phone back to Amber with a half smile. “Your nails do look fabulous.”

“Yeah, I know. How long they are is determined by how bad I’ve been. If I’m nice, they are shorter and manageable. If I’m bad, then they can get really long.”

“So, you’ve been bad, then?”

Amber looked at her nails and tilted her head. “About normal, I guess.” She flashed a momentary smile.

“I can’t believe she’s that…controlling.”

“My mom’s a monster. Watch. I’ll show you. I’m going to get a coffee. Can I bring you another?”

“No. It tastes awful. I only bought it so I could sit and wait for you. I was getting some hard looks from the big dude over there behind the counter, and I think they were going to ask me to leave.”

Amber touched Jeremy’s hand. “Let me get you something you’ll like better.”

Amber returned with two large iced cappuccinos layered with caramel. Moments later, she received a text from her mother. She showed her phone to Jeremy.

 “You ordered two of those high calories coffees? What are you thinking? You’ll get fat!”

“See. I can’t even buy a coffee without mother knowing. She monitors everything!” Watch this.

Amber texted back, “One is for Jessie.”

They both laughed out loud at Amber’s reply text for much too long. Both realized how good it was to laugh and how long it had been since they felt any joy like that. Joy with being close to someone who didn’t judge. Didn’t want something. Didn’t demand. Didn’t denigrate them.

After the laughter stopped, an awkward silence descended on the pair as they sipped on their cold sweet coffee drinks.

Finally, Jeremy smiled, trying to find a way back into conversation. “I do love your nails. I wish I could have ones like that.”

“Thanks.” Amber smiled briefly and stared at the two hundred dollar manicure. “But you don’t want them, really. Nothing but trouble. If I could give them to you, I would. I hate them. Hate having to come here every two weeks. Hate having to type with long nails and use the phone with long nails and put on clothes with long nails. Hate all of this disguise.” She gestured to her face and body.

Jeremy nodded as if he understood, but then decided he wouldn’t let this go. “So, tell me about… ‘all of this’.”

Amber finished her coffee with a straw slurp and then set aside her cup. She relaxed back into the chair, her body language changing suddenly. It was a subtle change, but Jeremy recognized it. Gone was her proper feminine straight-backed posture. It was replaced by a boyish slouch.

“My real name is Andrew.” These words coming from the sweet voice of this girl seemed surreal. “And the vile bitch you spoke to is my mother; the woman who is supposed to be acting in my best interest. I’m seventeen, not fifteen. I’m supposed to be turning eighteen in three months.”

“So, your mother is behind this? It’s really not what you want?”

“Yeah. Exactly. My mother is behind this and no, this is not what the fuck I want at all.” Amber picked up the empty cup again and then set it back down. “This all started five years ago, when my father died in some bogus accident.”

Jeremy’s eyes softened, and he started to say something. But Amber held up her hand. “Don’t say you’re sorry for my loss or any other bullshit. He was worse than mom. He abused her. Was cruel to me, too. I know why she’s forcing me to go through this…but it doesn’t make it any more right.”

“You were abused. I’m so sorry.” Jeremy squeezed Amber’s soft fingers.

Amber smiled and chuckled. “Says the scrawny boy who looks like he was hit by a truck.”

Jeremy lowered his eyes. “Please don’t call me a boy. Not while we’re together.”

Amber recoiled. The hurt she saw in Jeremy was so intense. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to…. You really aren’t a boy, are you? You really want this, don’t you?” After being forced to be Amber, seeing the look on Jeremy’s face was eye-opening.

Jeremy nodded sadly. “More than anything. I’m dying every day not being able to be…me.”

Amber wiped a single tear. Despite her current “male posture,” she wiped the tear in a practiced feminine way so as to not ruin her makeup. “I won’t call you a boy again. I’m…sorry.”

“It’s okay. I look like a boy. I understand. Just hate it. I thought maybe you’d see me…I don’t know…differently.” He looked at her. Amber was the image of what he wanted to be. “I don’t get why you…” He didn’t finish the sentence. Didn’t have to.

“Fair enough. I’ll try to explain.” She gathered herself and took a deep breath. “According to my loving mother, the worst thing my father did was pass on his traits. Two in particular. First, I got his face. Every time my mother looked at me, she saw him and I think she grew to hate me just as much as he’d despised him. Second, I got his temper and, according to her, my father’s cruel streak. Especially toward women.”

“You mean she’s doing this so you won’t turn out like your father? I get it, but that’s…”

“Twisted. The word you want is ‘twisted’.” Amber smiled wryly again. She gazed upon her new friend. Despite how he looked, she found her heart returning to the Jasmine she imagined. The Jasmine she saw when she stared at the uploaded photo. Even with the bruising, the eyes still sparkled. Her cold heart, that had been locked in a prison of her mother’s making, was feeling something warm for the first time.

Jeremy shook his head. “‘Twisted’ wasn’t exactly what I was thinking. But, yeah, I suppose it is a bit twisted.”

“What were you going to say? I’m curious. Do you think she’s right?” Amber’s tone had become more urgent. Defensive. It revealed a fear she’d harbored in the back of her mind; what if her mother was right?

“No. No! Not at all. I’ll tell you later. I promise. Please go on.”

“Okay. Where was I?” She ran her finger over her smooth nails; another feminine gesture at odds with the boyish persona Amber was trying to adopt. “Oh, five years ago. Well, after my father died, my mom went nuts. She purged the house of everything that had to do with him. Got rid of his cars, his clothes, his golf clubs. Everything. Everything except his money. She sold our house outside Chicago and we moved to Atlanta. Once we had what she called a ‘clean start;’ once everything to do with my father was gone, there was only one thing left to get rid of: Me.”

“Like putting you up for adoption?”

“Oh, no.” Amber laughed again. “I wish she had given me away. Better than this bullshit.”

Amber flipped her hair and continued. “She sent me to a boarding school in Switzerland. I was twelve. It was a small school. Very expensive, of course. There were only twenty-five kids, mostly girls. Three were boys, but only barely. I was the only real boy there and was the youngest. We were all treated like prissy girls; encouraged to be…soft. Be feminine. I went the other way and was back home inside of two months after hitting one of the teachers.”

Jeremy leaned back. “Wow.”

“Next, dear mother sent me to a therapist. A ‘specialist’ in aggressive behavior, she said.” Amber air quoted the ‘specialist’ part. “But this woman was sus. She put me on some drug that calmed me down. More like taking away my brain. I was walking in a fog then. I hardly remember that year at all.”

“That’s awful! But you’re not taking anything now, are you?”

“Nah. Just the occasional Ativan. Mother thought I’d not need anything once the, um, hormones kicked in.”

“How long have you…”

Another tear formed. “Since then. Since I was thirteen. She has them brought in from Europe. Some special high potency hormones.”

Looks of surprise and then envy ran across Jeremy’s face. He didn’t know what to say. For the first time, he studied Amber’s body more closely. She had significant breasts. He’d assumed they were just padding, but now he wondered. The day in the cafeteria when she hurried out, he’d noticed her womanly rear. It’s not all padding, I guess.

Amber saw the reaction and his eyes traveling appraisingly over her face and upper body, but tried to ignore it. She liked Jasmine and couldn’t fault the stare. She’d have stared, too. Amber paused her story. She was waiting for the inevitable questions. But Jeremy didn’t ask anything, so she went on.

“And then I died.”

Jeremy, still sipping his drink, almost did a spit take. “Died?”

Amber smiled at Jasmine’s reaction. “Yes, on February 14, 2022, Andrew Randolph Newhouse, Jr. died in a skiing accident in the Swiss Alps. Mom picked Valentine’s Day for my death. Funny, huh?”

“I don’t understand. Why kill you off? Was it about insurance or something?”

“No. She has plenty of money. I was starting to develop by then, and it was getting hard to explain to people at school and to her friends. I’d been getting strange looks when we went through customs because my passport was…boy. You know.”

“Passports. Yeah. I hate when that happens.” He said it sarcastically, but then smiled. She is from another world.

Amber blushed. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” She shrugged. “Anyway, mother thought the best way to handle it was to kill me and then give ‘birth’ to me as Amber. My literal birthday present was my first plastic surgery to change my face to this. That way, I was no longer a reminder of my father or of me as Andrew.”

“I still don’t understand. You weren’t born in 2022. Obviously.”

“No. I was technically adopted in 2022. And I became two-and-a-half-years younger in the process.”

Jeremy tried to take all of this in. But it sounded like the plot of a bad teen novel. And yet, he believed her. “If you’re so miserable, why don’t you just run away?”

Amber suddenly flashed angry. “Don’t you think I’ve tried?! I started running way when I was thirteen. As soon as I figured out what those pills and injections were. But she has money and where can a kid go at that age? The longest I ever made it was ten days when I was fourteen. I’d cut my hair off and trimmed my nails. Thought I was invisible. I was halfway to California when that beast of a detective pulled me off a bus in Tulsa.” Amber clinched her fists, the long nails digging into her palms. “Escape is impossible!!”

He held up his hands in surrender and looked away. “Sorry. Didn’t mean anything by asking. I think about running away, too. No one would come after me, but there is no point. I’m just…”

Amber relaxed her hands and lowered her voice. “No. I’m sorry. I know you weren’t trying to… It’s just such a painful topic.”

Jeremy looked confused again. Amber nodded at the look.

“The first time I ran away, my punishment was typical teen stuff. Couldn’t leave my room. No computer privileges. After the Tulsa thing, I had to always be dressed up and acting extra girlie twenty-four hours a day for a month. Had to curtsy and keep my eyes downcast. Total cringe!”

“Oh. I can see why…”

“It got worse. After the third time, she started with more…permanent…things. First she did my eyes. I’m now always going to have this ‘Sailor Moon’ look. Next time she thought the best way to keep me from running was to make it so I couldn’t run. She had my Achilles slightly shortened at some clinic in Slovenia. Now I always have to wear heels of some sort or walk on my tiptoes.”

“That’s…barbaric! How could she do something like that to her own son?”

Amber touched her smooth throat. “Adam’s Apple was next. Shaved it off and had my vocal cords tightened. This isn’t a practiced voice. It’s my voice. I can’t really lower it at all.” Amber sighed. “That was the last time I ran away. Right before we moved here to Beaufort. It was my ‘Christmas present’.”

God! That’s awful! “So, you’ve given up trying to get away?”

“No. Not given up. But…But I have to be sure next time because…” Amber looked down. “Because next time is boobs. Mom has enormous boobs. E-cup I think. My dad made her get implants after they got married. And that’s what she says she’ll do to me. In fact, she says she’ll give me her implants.”

Jeremy blanched. “Ew! Can you even do that?”

“No. Of course not. But she’d get hers removed and get me implants at the same time. ‘As big as hers,’ she says. And since I’m still on hormones, mine could grow even more.”

“So that’s why you want to be sure of your plan before running away.” It wasn’t a question, but an acknowledgment.

Amber looked at her watch. “Okay, that’s enough about me. Tell me about Jasmine. And tell me what you meant about not thinking what my mom was doing is twisted. I want to hear this!”

Jeremy sat up straight and looked around the coffee shop. He lowered the hood of his sweatshirt, letting his long stringy hair out, and then unzipped the hoodie. Underneath, he wore the same top he’d had on in the picture, the bra strap showing around one shoulder. He withdrew some cheap strawberry flavored lip gloss and applied it before crossing his legs at the knee and placing his hands demurely on the table.

He shook his head like a fashion model and pursed his slick lips, speaking in a melodic voice a little higher than his Jeremy voice. “I’m Jasmine. I’ve been Jasmine for as long as you’ve been Amber.”

Amber blushed. She was so turned on by this change in Jeremy’s persona. She faltered. “I see. You…you…” She was sweating now, nearly panting; so aroused by the sight of her new friend. Amber shifted back into “Amber” mode, suddenly wanting to look her best for Jasmine.

Jasmine continued in a practiced female cadence. “Our stories are mirror images, really.” She pushed hair behind one ear. “My mother didn’t die. At least as far as I know, she’s still alive. She just left when I was nine. I don’t blame her, really. She was fourteen when she had me and my dad was almost thirty. He was abusive, too.” Jasmine pointed at her face. “Surprise, surprise. He still is.”

Amber tried to regain her composure. She crossed her legs, trying to suppress another unexpected soft erection. “Have you heard from your mom?”

“Not for a long time. She sent a card a week after my eleventh birthday. Postmark said she was in Iowa then. I kept that card on my wall…until my father tore it up one night. Drunk, of course.”

“But nothing since?”

“No…Well, actually, I don’t know. My father would have thrown any mail from her away. I think she might have tried to call once or twice, but no chance I’d get to talk to her on his phone and she doesn’t have my number. He’s never forgiven her for leaving. For leaving him with a son he never wanted. A son who is a huge disappointment.” Jasmine laughed cheerlessly. “That tells you how bad it is. I’m the child of an abusive alcoholic man who has a dead-end job working as a security guard at a chicken plant. And I’m a disappointment.”

Amber leaned in. “You’re not a disappointment. You’re being true to who you are despite all that’s happened. You’re brave, Jasmine. Braver than I am.”

“I don’t feel brave. I feel lost and like time is running out. My body is going to betray me. It’s already trying. I don’t have any hormones or any way to get them. I took birth control pills starting when I was thirteen, but the girls I got them from are gone now.” Jasmine’s shiny lip trembled. “I don’t want to grow into a man, Amber.”

Amber didn’t know how to respond. The irony was cruel. Finally, she asked, “Would you want to swap with me? Would you want to walk in my heels?”

Jasmine shook her head and chuckled mirthlessly. “No. Because that would mean you’d have to walk in my old shoes.”

For a second, Amber thought what Jeremy described was better than her controlled life. “Are you jealous of what I have?” Her tone was less friendly.

Jasmine dropped her head. “I’m sorry, but yeah. I know you’re miserable, and I know your life has been taken from you, almost literally. But…but look at you. You have…” She stood, tears forming. “I gotta go. I borrowed a bike to come over here and I need to get it back.”

Amber stood, too. “Wait. You can’t go. You haven’t told me why you don’t think my mom is so twisted.”

Jasmine zipped her hoodie and pulled it over her head again, becoming Jeremy once more. “Because you won’t grow up to be like your father.”

“Is that it? Is that why you want to become a girl…woman? So, you won’t be like your father?”

“No. Jasmine is who I am. Becoming like my father…it won’t happen. I won’t make it that far. If I can’t be who I really am. If I can’t be Jasmine, I…just won’t be anybody.”

Amber reached for her friend. “Don’t say that. Don’t give up, Jasmine. No matter what.”

Jeremy gave a wistful half smile and wiped off the lip gloss with a napkin. He walked out, tossing his cup and napkin in the trash as he left. Amber sat down again, troubled. Her moment of reprieve was over and she was now taking on Jasmine’s pain on top of her own. Amber had to go back to her imprisoned life, but was it worse than Jasmine’s? She was connected to Jasmine now. But that connection was complicated. Amber always thought no one had it as bad as her. Now she wasn’t sure. Her perspective was changed that day.

Amber had an hour till her mother came to pick her up. In that time she thought long and hard about what to do. Looking at the empty chair where Jasmine had sat, she made a decision. If I can’t be happy, then maybe…

The Bentley pulled up at the curb at 1:25pm. Amber got in and closed the door softly. “Mom, I have a proposal for you.”

======================================================

Sunday morning, Amber received a text from Jeremy.

“Hey. Sorry I had to leave. Afraid I’d say the wrong thing. Couldn’t stand it if U hated me. I really like U. Please promise I can C U again.”

Amber’s tears flowed as she tried to respond. “I like U 2, Jasmine. C U at school.”

======================================================

Jeremy didn’t sleep well that night. But unlike most sleepless nights, where his mind was filled with sadness and worry, this night it was filled with hope; the hope of having someone in his life who understood him and might accept him just the way he was.

He didn’t see Amber on Monday or Tuesday, and he worried that Amber’s mom might have done something after the lie about the appointment time. He’d texted Tuesday after school asking how she was doing, and Amber had just sent back a winking face emoji. Guess she’s okay.

On Wednesday, just after Jeremy’s fourth period history class began, there was a knock on the classroom door. The teacher opened it and took a slip of paper. “Jeremy Joad, you need to go to the guidance counselor.”

Confused, Jeremy took the slip of paper and made his way down the hall to the offices. He found the guidance counselor, Ms. Sheridan. “I was told to come see you.”

“Ah. You must be Jeremy.” She smiled warmly. “Or should I call you Jasmine?”

“What?”

She put her arm around his shoulder. “It’s okay. You aren’t the only student here going through something like this. Your mother came by and explained what was happening.”

Jeremy’s head was spinning. “My mother? She was here?” That’s impossible. “I think you may have the wrong student.”

Ms. Sheridan pulled out a folder. “Jeremy Clinton Joad, right? I don’t think there is more than one of you.” She showed Jeremy the folder she had in her hands. “I have the information from your psychologist and your endocrinologist here. Everything is in order. You are free to start attending school as Jasmine whenever you are ready. In the meantime, I have meds for you to take every day. Just come by after lunch and I’ll give you your pills. Today’s will be a little late, but I don’t think that’s a problem.”

Jeremy nodded, but he had no idea what was happening. “Meds?”

“Here is your special Estriadol and your testosterone blocker. Normally these would be given by the nurse, but I know a friend of your mother and she asked me to handle this personally, for privacy reasons.”

Jeremy took the two pills and an offered cup of water. He stared at the pills. Ms. Sheridan nodded, and he swallowed them immediately.

“Now, back to class with you. I’ll see you tomorrow. Come by any time if you need to talk. I’m here for you, Jasmine.”

“Th…Thanks.” Jeremy turned, still in complete confusion, and walked out of the office.

Just as he got to her doorway, Ms. Sheridan called do him. “Is everything okay at home? It’s strange that your mom didn’t want me to call you from class. She said you’d talk at home. Please tell me.”

He tried to think fast. “Um, yeah. My parents…aren’t together. My dad has custody. So, it’s weird. But this, he pointed at the bottle she was holding, is all good. Believe me.”

The guidance counselor eyed him. “Okay, dear. But you come see me if you want to talk about this. In the meantime, I need to call your dad.”

“No! No, please. He’s not good with me being Jasmine. I don’t know how he’ll react. Can you keep this between us?”

“This is highly irregular.” Ms. Sheridan stared at the folder and the pill bottles and sighed. “Okay. I won’t call him for now. But I want to be sure you’re okay. You’re going to have to keep being honest with me.”

“Sure. Thanks, Ms. Sheridan.” Jeremy waved and stepped out.

When he reached the corridor, head still spinning, he found a most welcome sight. Leaning against the wall was Amber, her face beaming. He’d hadn’t seen her smile that way. She was so pretty when she smiled.

It all clicked. He ran to her. “You did this? How?”

She nodded. “I did. Well, my mom did. With enough money, you can make anything happen.”

“But why would she help me?”

“I’ll tell you later. I got to get back to class. Can you meet me behind the soccer field bleachers after school?”

Jeremy nodded. “Of course!” He hugged her, tears streaming down his face.

Amber was welling up, too. She smiled through the tears and hugged him back.

===================================================

After school, Jeremy ran to the soccer field. There were no teams practicing that day and the only person around was a maintenance employee on a riding mower cutting the field. The fresh cut grass smelled especially wonderful and full of life. Jeremy found Amber sitting on a bench by the concession stand with a backpack beside her.

Amber stood and took a step toward him. Jeremy ran into her arms. “Thank you. I don’t know what to say. Thank your mom, too. But how did you do this? Will you get in trouble?” Jeremy had so many questions and they all came out in rapid fire.

Amber led him over to the bench and they sat. “It’s no big deal, Jasmine.”

“No big deal?! Are you kidding me? You’re saving my life!” He welled up again, but held it together. “How did you convince your mom to do this?”

“It wasn’t hard. I told her I’d met a trans girl at school and that we’d become friends. Played on her hatred of wicked men and told her you were afraid of becoming your father. I told her you had no money for HRT. Showed her the picture you sent me.”

“That’s it? She just said sure, no problem. I’ll just have some documents forged and send someone into the school to impersonate his mother?”

“Not quite that. But close. She has some…connections.” Amber was going to say “conditions,” but thought better of it.

“But that still doesn’t explain why. Why would she go to so much trouble for someone she doesn’t know?” Jeremy had to know.

“I told her having a trans friend would help me accept being ‘Amber.’ She bought it, or at least found it plausible. Oh, and I promised not to run away until I turned eighteen. And I…” She stopped herself again. Jasmine didn’t need to hear everything she’d promised.

“I don’t know what to say. No one has ever done anything like this for me before. I have no adequate words.”

Amber looked around to see if anyone was looking. “That’s okay. I don’t want words, Jasmine. I want you to kiss me. Do you want to kiss me?”

He beamed. “More than I want breasts.”

And so Jasmine closed her eyes and leaned in. They kissed like two kids who’d never kissed a girl before. Because they hadn’t. It was sloppy, and it was raw, and it was wonderful. They kept kissing, their breathing becoming ragged as they found themselves more and more turned on. Jeremy became hard as steel and even Amber’s hormone stunted little penis twitched and swelled a little inside its satin prison. Her mature nipples hardened for the first time ever, pressing into Jeremy. Neither wanted to stop, and their hands began to explore.

But then Amber’s phone beeped, and she broke the embrace, panting. “That’s my mom. Have to go.”

Jeremy held onto her. “Please. Can’t you stay a little longer?”

Amber grinned. “No. Not today. But we’ll get together again soon. I promise.” She picked up the backpack. But instead of hoisting it onto her back, she handed it to Jeremy. “Here. This is for you. These are from last year. I’ve…I’ve outgrown them. I think they’ll fit you okay. Bring me the backpack again and I’ll refill it.” She leaned in and kissed Jeremy again, putting her hand on the pack. “Look. Be careful. Don’t go crazy with what’s in here. Your dad may be a moron, but if you start dressing like me, he’s going to notice. And I don’t want to see any more bruises on that pretty face. Take it slow.”

“I will. I…Thanks. And tell your mom thanks.”

“See you.” Amber moved away toward the parking lot. She looked back and waved, smiling affectionately.

Jeremy watched her go. Amber’s walk was fast, like the day in the cafeteria. But instead of a purposeful stride, she had joy in her movement. Amber’s cute butt rocked from side to side happily. As for Jeremy, he was still in shock and still so turned on that he had to sit for a few minutes until he softened and calmed down.

===========================================================

Thankfully, when Jeremy got home, his father was nowhere to be found. He took a trash bag into the bedroom and retrieved the battered suitcase from under the bed. He dumped all the soiled and ill-fitting clothes he’d gathered into it, replacing them with the gorgeous array of items Amber had brought. Panties and bras in many styles. Nightgowns and cute socks and shorts and skirts. All of it looking like brand new. Some still even with tags on them. The only things he kept from the old stash were the skirt and top from the picture he’d sent Amber.

There were cosmetics in the backpack, too, including eye shadows, concealer, and lip makeup. There were lotions that would make his skin soft and supple and one that would supposedly prevent peach fuzz. He was in heaven.

But at the bottom of the pack was the real prize; more hormones, both testosterone blockers and female hormones. There was breast cream, too. And the prescriptions were all in his name: “Jeremy (Jasmine) Joad.”

============================================================

Jasmine continued to meet Amber after school for make-out sessions and to talk. Amber brought more clothes and cosmetics and then, eventually, some shoes and jewelry. Jeremy had to find a box to put under the bed in addition to the suitcase to hold it all. He hung some items in his small closet, covering them with jackets or sweaters so his father wouldn’t notice.

The good thing was that Jeremy did all the laundry, so his father didn’t wouldn’t see the unmentionable items in the wash. But one Saturday, while Jeremy was in the trailer park laundry, the slutty neighbor, Annie, came in. Jeremy wasn’t paying attention and almost jumped out of his skin when the older woman asked, “and who do these panties belong to” as she fondled one of Jeremy’s new pairs. “Has your dad found a new woman?”

Jeremy panicked. “No. Um. They were my mom’s. We’re…We’re giving them to Goodwill. I was just, um, washing them before donating.”

Annie continued to handle the delicate nylon lingerie. She smiled as she looked down at Jeremy, studying him, scanning his body and face. “Your mom had good taste. Goodwill. Sure, little one. Sure. That’s…sweet.”

She dropped the soft pink lingerie on top of Jeremy’s head and turned to leave. “By the way, no one living in this shit hole trailer park has underwear this nice. Next time you decide to wash them before, um, ‘donating to Goodwill,’ you might want to think about hand washing them. These are not made to go in washing machines. Read the label.”

==============================================================

A month after Amber and Jasmine started meeting, Amber sat on the same bench by the soccer field, looking troubled. She was biting her lip as Jasmine approached. They kissed and then Amber said, “I’ve got some bad news.”

Jasmine saw the look in Amber’s huge brown eyes. “What? What’s wrong?”

Amber sighed. “My mother is insisting on meeting you.”

Jasmine thought about it. “That’s okay. I need to thank her. I know you don’t think she deserves any appreciation, and I fully get it. But she’s helping me.”

“She’s helping you to…nevermind. Yes. You’re right. It’s fine.” Amber sighed. “Can you come over for dinner tomorrow night? We can pick you up at your house.”

“No! Not that!” Jasmine’s body shook. The idea of Amber coming to his nasty old trailer was terrifying. “I’ll meet you at…I’ll meet you at the McDonald’s by Wal-Mart. What time?”

“How about 6:00pm? Can you come…as Jasmine?”

“Really? Are you sure? I mean, I’ve never dressed, you know, outside.”

“It will be okay, Jasmine. I think this will be good.” Amber rubbed her friend’s shoulder softly and then pulled her hand away abruptly. “You’re wearing a bra? To school?”

Jasmine smiled. “I am. First time. I…I wanted to surprise you. So, you know, ‘surprise’!”

Amber was turned on, but also worried. “Just be careful, Jasmine. You’re not ready to let the world see who you are.”

Jasmine looked away. “I don’t care about the world. I care about you.”

Amber’s heart flip-flopped. She’d been thinking nonstop about Jasmine and how deep her feelings had become. It was scary. She still felt like Andrew deep inside, but she knew Jasmine was attracted to Amber, not Andrew. “I care about you, too, Jasmine.”

===============================================================

At 5:00pm the next day, Jeremy borrowed Annie’s bike again and put on his backpack to ride the three miles to the McDonald’s. He chained the bicycle to a post, hoping no one would steal the bright purple fat tire bike. He entered the “Family” restroom inside McDonald’s and began the transformation into Jasmine. It would be the first time he’d fully dressed outside of his bedroom and he was so nervous his hands trembled.

Before leaving home, Jeremy had painted his fingernails with clear polish, not daring to use a bright color in case his father saw. He was also wearing a lavender bra and panties set Amber had given him with some pantyhose as well under his jeans and sweatshirt.

Jeremy carefully removed his grungy sneakers and the old socks he had on over the stockings and then took off his old jeans. Next, he took off the sweatshirt and removed the rubber band holding his blonde hair in place. As the much silkier hair, thanks to Amber’s salon products, fell over his shoulders, he became Jasmine again.

Hands still shaking, Jasmine applied light makeup and a pale lip tint. Just enough to let Amber and her mom know she was wearing it. She put on mascara a little too heavy, but she liked the attention it brought to her bright blue eyes.

She shimmied into the short gray skirt; another gift from Amber, of course. Jasmine found her careful tucking had been ruined by “boy part excitement,” and an unsightly bulge was visible. It took some time, but she finally calmed down, thinking of Annie, and found the look better after a few more tucking attempts. The pale, semi-transparent blouse was next, followed by some cheap clip on fake pearl earrings. A quick brush through her hair, and Jasmine stared at her reflection. The work she’d done plucking her eyebrows just a little more than normal had been worth it. “Hello Jasmine!” she said to the mirror. “Time to meet the world.” Somehow, seeing her reflection brought confidence that she hadn’t had as Jeremy just minutes before.

Pulling on the two-inch heeled sandals Amber had brought, Jasmine then packed her Jeremy clothes in the backpack and took a deep breath. Her old cheap watch said it was 5:47pm. She removed the obvious “boy” timepiece and dropped it into the pack as well. Another cleansing breath and she opened the door and stepped out into the busy McDonald’s dining room.

The satisfying clomp her heels made on the floor began to arouse her. No one was giving her strange looks, though one boy working behind the counter seemed to eye her. She had no interest in boys. But she had a sense that the boy saw an attractive girl, not a boy pretending to be a girl.

Out into the parking lot, Jasmine watched for the fancy car to pull up. But it never appeared. Instead, a long black Cadillac Escalade stopped by where Jasmine was standing. Amber leaped out and ran to her. “Oh, my god! You’re beautiful, Jasmine!” They both smiled till their mouths might break.

Beverly Newhouse called from the driver’s seat, “Come on, girls. It’s not safe in this seedy part of town. Load your bike in the rear storage, Jasmine.”

Jasmine unlocked the borrowed bike and the two girls lifted it in behind the third row seat.

 Beverly called over her shoulder as they closed the lift gate, “Amber, you get in the back seat. I want Jasmine up front with me.”

Jasmine eyed Amber, who mouthed an “It’s okay.” She slid into the elegant car beside Beverly, making sure to sit and then pull her legs in after, like she knew women were supposed to do.

Beverly said little on the way, but Jasmine knew she was being studied. In fact, no one seemed to speak during the ride across the bridge and into the “good” side of town.

Jasmine eyed Beverly, too. It was hard not to stare at her enormous breasts. The woman had a presence, of that there was no doubt. She was uncommonly pretty, too, with an exotic, Spanish air to her features and skin. I bet she was smokin’ hot at Amber’s age. Jasmine could see some of Beverly in Amber. She wondered how much of the resemblance was genetic and now much was from Amber’s cosmetic surgery.

When they drove through the tall security gate and into the posh subdivision, Jasmine’s eyes widened. And when they pulled onto the long driveway that led to the mansion at its end, she gasped. I knew Amber’s family was rich, but this is amazing. It was at that moment that all of Jasmine’s new confidence failed her. She wanted to escape. I don’t belong here!

They entered the enormous house, their three sets of heels echoing off the marble entranceway floor. Beverly turned to Amber. “Dear, I want you to change into that blue dress we bought last week. You can join us in the lounge once you’re properly dressed for dinner.”

Amber hesitated. “But, Mom, Jasmine is my guest. I don’t want to be rude and…”

“You’re being rude right now, young lady. You know you should never disobey me in front of guests. Ever. Now off you go. And I want the full effect. All of it. Don’t worry, we won’t be talking about you behind your back. Much.” Beverly laughed coldly.

Jasmine asked, “Can I go with her? I’d love to see Amber’s room.”

Beverly looked down at Jasmine with a look you give to a dog that’s being trained to sit on command. “No dear. Not this time. Maybe some other day.”

Jasmine and Amber shared a “WTF” look and then Amber reluctantly retreated up the spiral staircase onto the second floor, glancing back at Jasmine, feeling like she’d just left a kitten in the pen with a pit bull.

Beverly escorted Jasmine into a beautifully decorated room with a full wall shelf of books on one end, a large stone fireplace on the other, and paintings covering the other walls. “This is the lounge.” She motioned for the girl to sit on a love-seat while the woman sat across from her in a throne-like upholstered chair.

“You are simply lovely, Jasmine. It looks like our bit of assistance is reaping rewards for you.” The woman smiled pleasantly, but Jasmine suspected an agenda lay behind that smile.

“Yes, ma’am. I can’t thank you enough. I wish I could express what your gifts mean to me. I thought my life…” Jasmine had rehearsed a speech, but lost the words as she stared at the imposing woman, whose appraising gaze was fixed on her. “I…um…just appreciate what you’ve done.”

Beverly reached a perfectly manicured hand out and touched Jasmine’s knee. “I’m glad to help. You already know from talking to my daughter how much I worry about boys becoming trapped into being like their toxically masculine fathers. And I understand, no offense to your father, that this was something you worried about, too.”

“Yes, ma’am. But more than that, I know I’m Jasmine. And without you and the meds, I…um…well, you know.”

“Yes, honey. I know. And that is exactly why I wanted to talk to you alone while Amber changes into her dinner dress.” Beverly sat back and began. “Amber’s father was an evil man. Truly awful. And I saw so much of Randolph in my…child. I was afraid I was raising a monster who would soon turn on me and then, as an adult, abuse every woman he encountered.” She paused. “I loved my son. And I wanted him to grow up and be happy. And good. You understand?”

“Yes, ma’am. I do. Amber has told me about her father.”

Beverly leaned forward again. “Good! Yes. You see, I knew that happiness was impossible if I let my boy grow into manhood. Bringing Amber into the world was the only way to fix this unfortunate circumstance. Does that make sense?”

“I guess it…”

“Excellent! So we agree! That’s wonderful, Jasmine. I knew you were an ally. And so I want to ask you a favor. It’s nothing really. Just a painless way to show your real gratitude for the hormones and clothes and cosmetics and shoes.”

Jasmine’s mouth was dry. “Okay.”

“Good. Good. Here’s the thing. Amber is smitten with you. She adores you and admires your courage in becoming your authentic self.”

“That’s great to hear. I do…”

Beverly cut her off. “Yes. What I’d like to ask you is for you to do is…encourage…her to embrace her femininity with the same grace and enthusiasm that you do. I want her to be as happy being a girl as you will be if you continue to receive our aid. Will you help me? It will make all of my efforts to give you the life you desire feel truly appreciated.”

“But…But I don’t think Amber feels like…”

“No. She doesn’t. Not yet. You are the key. You can help make her feel like you do. And, if you do, I promise to extend my help even further. Maybe get you and your father into a better home. Maybe even a better job for him. That way, if he does somehow find out about you not being Jeremy, maybe he won’t react so…brutishly. We wouldn’t want your father to ruin what we’ve started with you, would we, Jasmine?” She emphasized the “Jeremy” and “Jasmine” to convey her meaning.

“I don’t understand how this…”

Beverly’s tone sharpened, and she looked directly at Jasmine. “Yes you do, dear. You understand very well. I’ve seen your test scores and academic record. You are a smart…girl.”

Jasmine nodded, blinking blankly. She couldn’t think of anything to say or do. So she just silently agreed.

And then the practiced smile returned to Beverly’s pretty face. “I might have some things to suggest from time to time and may give you a nudge here and there. You’d be okay if I contacted you, right?”

Beverly stood, not waiting for a reply, and motioned Jasmine to come to her. She embraced Jasmine tightly. “I’m so glad we could have this chat, dear. And I trust it will stay between us, hmm?”

Jasmine smelled her perfume, but more than that, felt her aura. Felt her power. She nodded her head silently, her face pressed into the woman’s imposing enhanced breasts.

As the embrace broke, Beverly held Jasmine at arm’s length and tilted her head as she examined Jasmine’s body. “How are those hormones working? Those aren’t the ones you’d get here in the US, you know. The labels on the bottles are for show. I have them imported from Sweden. Very special. Very potent. Very expensive. Are you seeing any…development, yet?”

This was most uncomfortable. The truth was that Jasmine was seeing changes in her chest and skin and in her body overall. But talking about it with Amber’s mother, especially after the previous conversation, was surreal and embarrassing. Jasmine did answer, though. “Yes, Mrs. Newhouse. I think I am.”

“Beverly. Call me Beverly. Or maybe Mom, if you like. I think we are going to be very close, you and I.”

It was at this opportune moment that the door opened, and Amber entered.

Jasmine turned to look and gasped. “Oh, god, Amber! You’re gorgeous! That dress is so beautiful.” And it was. It had been clearly made just for Amber. It hugged her developing curves, showing off her still growing breasts, narrow waist, and girlish hips. She had redone her makeup into a dramatic nighttime look that made those anime eyes pop and had styled her hair differently into a more formal updo.

Amber didn’t reply. She looked embarrassed and upset and stared at the floor.

Her mother prompted her. “How do we respond to compliments, Amber, dear?”

Amber raised her head again and gave her mother a hard look that was returned in kind. She sighed. “Th…Thank you, Jasmine. Kind of you to say.”

Despite Jasmine doing all she could to tuck, the sight of Amber caused the Jeremy in the girl to grow. She immediately sat back down on the love-seat so as not to ruin the illusion that she was a girl named Jasmine.

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Dinner was filled with idle conversation about things that didn’t matter. Amber and Jasmine were seated on opposite sides of a long table with Beverly at the head, directing the dialogue. No mention of transitioning or hormones or any topic related to the two “girls” was discussed. Beverly asked about Beaufort’s weather and what Jasmine liked to do during the summer and other meaningless trivia.

Amber slipped off her four-inch heels and extended her foot under the table to touch Jasmine’s leg. It wasn’t a sexual thing. She was trying to calm her friend, who was clearly nervous, not knowing which fork to use or what to do with the various plates and glasses.

Once dinner was over, the two girls had a few minutes to talk alone in the lounge.

“What did you and the bitch talk about?”

Jasmine again didn’t know what to say. She wanted to tell Amber what her mom asked of her, but was scared. Jasmine wasn’t just afraid she’d be cut off from the medications or that Beverly might tell her dad. She was afraid it would be bad for Amber, too. The dynamic between Amber and Beverly was obviously strained and confrontational, and she was afraid telling her friend what Beverly had asked would be trouble. “Nothing. She asked about my family and about what I wanted out of life. And she asked about my, you know, development.”

“Oh, Jasmine! I’m so sorry. That must have been awkward! My mother has no internal censor or belief in personal boundaries. She’s…yeah…a bitch.”

“It’s okay. I owe her…owe both of you so much.”

The two kissed passionately on the couch. Jasmine’s eyes were drawn to the shape of her friend’s body and she found her hands stroking Amber’s small breasts through the tight bodice of the dress.

Amber panted at first and moaned. But then she caught herself. “Please don’t.”

So Jasmine pulled her hand away, and they resumed kissing. Soon, Amber’s hands wandered, too, finding the budding little mounds on Jasmine’s chest. Jasmine also panted and moaned. But unlike Amber, didn’t ask her friend to stop; instead, leaning into the feel of her friend’s hands on her erect nipples.

At 8:30pm, the lounge door opened and Beverly entered. “Time to take our friend home, Amber.”

The word “our” in that sentence was noticed by both girls.

Outside in the drive, the Cadillac awaited. Both girls sat in the back holding hands as they rode back across the bridge and into the low income area where Jasmine lived.

They passed the McDonald’s. “Wait, Mrs. Newhouse. I’ll ride home from here.”

Beverly looked at them through the rearview mirror. “Check behind you.”

The girls turned around and saw the bike was still loaded into the cargo area, along with another bike that looked brand new. The new bike was topped with a bright pink bow. Beverly reached over the seat and handed Jasmine a piece of paper. “Here, dear. This will make it easier to explain.”

The paper was a fake essay contest flyer that read, in part. “First prize, 21-speed Trek bicycle.”

Beverly smiled again. “Congratulations. You’re the deserving winner! Wonderful essay you wrote on ‘Toxic Masculinity’.”

They drove up to the mobile home park entrance and stopped.

Jasmine got out, but paused. “Wait. I can’t go home like this. I need to change. My father…”

“Your father is not at home, dear. He won’t be home for another hour at least. And I think he’ll be in an excellent mood.” The woman had thought of everything. Beverly then spoke to Amber. “Be a dear and help Jasmine get those bikes out and then walk our friend home.”

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Jasmine and Amber fell into a blissful routine. On sunny days, they met for their make-out sessions behind the soccer field or at a nearby park. On rainy days, they’d huddle inside a bus stop or anywhere they could find shelter and a little privacy. At first, people paid them little attention; just a boy and a girl kissing passionately. But as time went on and Jasmine’s looks softened week by week and her look at school went from boy to androgynous, eyes were inevitably drawn to the pair with more interest.

Inside school itself, little changed for Jasmine as she continued to be Jeremy to everyone but Amber. “He” was still the quiet student sitting in the back in class or by himself at lunch, wearing hoodies and baggy pants. He still cultivated no friends and largely everyone just ignored him.

Ms. Sheridan remained supportive, too. One day, she detected something under the sweatshirt and asked Jeremy if “Jasmine” was ready to attend school.

“I don’t think so. Not this late in the year. We only have a month left till summer break.”

Life at home was okay for Jasmine, too. Clint had a new girlfriend and so didn’t notice that his only son was growing a little less boyish each day. He commented that Jeremy’s hair was getting too long, but otherwise said little to him. The girlfriend, Tammy, seemed to want to pretend that Jeremy didn’t exist…which was fine with Jasmine. As long as the trailer was kept neat and the laundry was done, Jasmine flew under the radar.

Jasmine became more relaxed, too, and less careful. There was one incident that almost blew things up. Tammy found a pair of panties dropped accidentally in the hall outside Jasmine’s room. Tammy accused Clint of cheating until Jasmine explained they belonged to his girlfriend. Tammy gave Jasmine a sideways look. “You have a girlfriend, powderpuff? Really?” But when Jasmine produced a picture of Amber, Tammy gave Jasmine a rare smile; a smile that seemed creepy to Jasmine. But creepy or not, things calmed down.

The new bicycle caused some trouble, too. Clint wanted to sell it. “What do you need with a bike? You can keep borrowing Annie’s any time you need one. Otherwise, you’ve got two good legs to walk. Besides, that’s a girl’s bike.”

In the end, it was Tammy that came up with a solution. She got Jeremy to promise to get a summer job to help out. He promised to give Clint $800 over the course of the summer, the value of the bike. Clint’s eyes lit up at this idea. “That works. And he’ll be eighteen by then. So, he should be pitching in anyway.”

Jasmine’s nails were kept relatively short and after days of polishing them to be with Amber and then removing the polish before going home, she finally decided to just keep them buffed and shiny. Her toes, though, were always polished and her legs were kept shaved silky smooth. She’d abandoned any male underwear, but threw pairs of y-front briefs on top of the laundry pile to keep up appearances.

Some nights, especially when Tammy was staying over and Jasmine felt safe, she’d put on a negligee Amber had given her, feeling the nylon slide against her body and especially her increasingly sensitive nipples. Development there was steady, and she was needing a training bra, at least, by the time May started. Jasmine had to be extra careful coming and going from the shower, not only because of the breast growth but also because of her hair-free and increasingly rounded legs and rear.

One day in mid-May, Jasmine got a call from Beverly. They’d waved whenever they saw each other, mainly when Amber was getting in the Bentley after school, but had had no other contact since that dinner until now. Jasmine feared this would be the call she’d been dreading, where Beverly put pressure on her to influence Amber. But it wasn’t.

“Hey, Jasmine. I’m planning to throw a little end of school pool party this Saturday. It’s a surprise for Amber. Can you come over and join us?”

Jasmine was completely caught off guard. “Um. Sure, Ms. Newhouse. What time?”

“How about 1:00pm? Pick you up at the McDonald’s again. Oh, and don’t worry. I have a swimsuit picked out just for you. Don’t tell Amber.” The call ended there. As usual, Beverly didn’t wait for a response from Jasmine.

Saturday came and Jeremy readied herself to go over to the Newhouse compound. He prepared his “Jasmine” backpack with all that was needed to make the increasingly smaller shift from Jeremy to Jasmine. Standing in the trailer’s doorway at 12:30pm, his father’s head laying in the lap of Tammy as she played with his short greasy hair, Jeremy said, “Going to a friend’s house. Be back later.”

Clint said. “Not so fast, boy. You need to take that fancy bike of yours and go get Tammy and me some lunch. She’s craving a burger from The Beef Shack.”

“I don’t have time, dad.”

Usually, even if Clint had been drunk the night before, he was more or less back to his gruff but not cruel self by now. But something had changed. And the change was Tammy. “We have been talking, Tammy and me. We think something’s up with you. You are looking…weird. And you’re acting even weirder these days. Since when do you have friends? Something is up and I don’t like it.”

“No. N…Nothing’s up. Just normal teenage shit.” Jasmine never cursed. A proper lady never uses coarse language. But Jeremy used the “s word” to sound more like the old Jeremy, but the voice cadence had changed with all of his time as Jasmine and this change was more evident in the excitement to see Amber that day. The dirty word came out like a little girl than a defiant teenage boy. Jeremy knew the intervention of the hormones had kept his voice much higher than normal for a boy his age. Even to his own ears, he realized the epithet didn’t sound “right.”

Tammy heard, too, and spoke, pointing an angry finger at Jeremy and addressing him directly, more like a stepmother. “Don’t you curse around your father, young lady!”

And there it was. Tammy was a woman. She might be dumb as dirt and as country as Kelsi Ballerini, but she recognized who “Jasmine” was on the intuition level. The room was silent as “young lady” bounced around in the air, seeming to take on a life of its own. Jeremy had taken a risk this morning thinking that the two would be distracted. He’d worn a pair of shorts instead of his trademark tattered jeans. His shaved legs were on display, looking quite sleek. And the pale green shorts, while not short shorts, were a pair of Amber’s hand-me-downs. He still had on the hoodie, despite it being nearly eighty degrees already, but below that, it would be hard to not think “girl.”

Jeremy searched quickly for a response for Tammy and could feel the eyes of the adults on him. His father, especially, seemed to be staring and considering his son’s appearance much too closely for comfort.

Standing in the doorway, he eyed the two, still on the couch. The bike wasn’t locked, but could he get on and ride away before his hungover father extricated himself from his girlfriend’s lap and give chase? And was it worth the risk? He was weighing a pool party with Amber against an unknown punishment, and possibly worse, when he got back. Jeremy would chicken out. But who was making the call today?

It wasn’t really a decision for Jasmine. She jumped off the porch and dashed for her bike. It was in a high gear, so her getaway was slow. But, as she looked back at the trailer door, it seemed her efforts were unnecessary. No one gave chase. No one was at the door, even. Whatever happens, it’ll be worth it.

Jasmine experienced a new feeling. Freedom. When she looked back again to see if Clint was running after her, she seemed to see someone else by the door instead: Jeremy. Not only did she flee from her father’s authority, but symbolically, she was leaving her life as Jeremy behind, too.

Jasmine had defied her life circumstance the last months, with the Newhouse’s help, but this was different. This was outright defiance of her father. And it felt liberating. The fear that should have gripped her, knowing Clint’s temper, wasn’t there. Instead, there was a sense of self. A sense that she was starting to control the narrative of her life for the first time.

Beverly was already at the McDonalds when Jasmine arrived and so she didn’t have time to transform from Jeremy to Jasmine. But there wasn’t much in it, anyway. As soon as she removed the hoodie, the new girl was there, minus the makeup. But with a pool party, do you wear makeup, anyway?

It wasn’t long before Jasmine realized the “party” was just the two girls and Beverly, along with a hired DJ and a “pool boy.” This was fine with Jasmine. The pool boy was just a skinny neighbor kid of fourteen named Lance who jumped at the chance to hang out with Amber; he’d been ogling her and Beverly for months.

The swimsuit Beverly had for Jasmine was something. The flowered bikini bottom was designed for boys wanting to look like girls with a built in gaffe that held everything down tight. Jasmine’s breasts were still barely A-cup range, but the jade green top did all it could to give the illusion of more. When she saw her reflection, Jasmine couldn’t believe how well she was pulling it off. When Lance saw it, he stared openly, too. She blushed.

But if Jasmine’s bikini was hot, Amber’s bright yellow suit was downright provocative. Years of hormones had transformed her body into one that any “real girl” would envy. Her breasts easily reached B-cup range and her waist was narrower than seemed natural. Jasmine knew this waist wasn’t natural. Punishment for one of Andrew’s attempt at escape had resulted in surgery to remove all fat from Amber’s midsection and some contouring of her ribcage. The effect was incredible.

The high straps of Amber’s skimpy bottom highlighted her waist and there was no sign of bulge. Amber’s hips were fine, helped by the design of her suit, but amazingly, Jasmine’s pelvis seemed more womanly. Amber’s butt, on the other hand, was a dream. Firm with just a little jiggle. She was a wet dream walking away. It wasn’t a bubble butt or a full peach, but it was cute and girlish. Her skin was already a golden brown tan, contrasting with Jasmine’s pale white flesh. The tan was not from the sun, though. Beverly made sure that her “daughter” would not have skin damaged by the sun’s rays. Amber’s dark hair resting on her shoulders was set off by the yellow of the bathing suit and it gave her this exotic look, one that Jasmine hadn’t observed before.

Lance’s time at the party was short. Jasmine could see that, unfortunately for Lance, the boy was just a party decoration. She’d noticed Beverly watching the three kids, and it became clear Lance was simply a test to see if either girl was drawn to him. When neither Jasmine nor Amber had eyes for anyone but each other, Beverly sent the kid on his way with a bottle of rum and a kiss that lasted a little too long to be considered appropriate, given he was a minor. Beverly’s parting words to him were, “you’d make a cute girl, you know.” If Lance only knew she was only half kidding, he’d have run home as fast as he could.

Before Lance ran off, he’d been enlisted by Beverly to rub suntan lotion on the two girls. Jasmine didn’t know it, but this was a tan advancer that would give a bronzing effect, sun or no sun. Jasmine heard Lance’s ragged breathing as the boy applied the lotion.

Amber suggested Lance wash his hands. He didn’t listen. Later, he’d discover that the palms of his hands and his cock had a natural-looking, if tale tell tan.

The altercation at the trailer was quickly forgotten as Jasmine enjoyed the day. The pool deck was enclosed in a covered lanai, so remained cool despite the warm weather. Jasmine had never been in a pool like this and enjoyed playing and giggling in the water with Amber. Amber and Jasmine also danced poolside as the DJ pumped out deep bass club dance music.

It was a perfect day until it wasn’t. At 5pm precisely, the music stopped and the DJ packed up. Beverly approached the two girls lying on chaise lounges side-by-side, holding hands, still giggling like the schoolgirls they appeared to be.

Beverly sat on the end of Jasmine’s lounger with a feline smile curling her full lips. “Well girls, I hope you’ve enjoyed this day together.”

Jasmine spoke first. “Mrs. Newhouse, this is the best day of my life! Thank you for having me over. I so love your…” She looked over at Amber “…home and am so grateful.”

Beverly patted Jasmine’s plump thigh, her hand lingering. “Glad you like it, dear. In fact, you are welcome to hang out at the pool any time you like!”

Amber looked between her friend and her mom, half suspicious and half grateful. It was the grateful that came out of her mouth. “Yes, mother. I am…thank you for doing this. And for letting Jasmine hang out with us. She’s…she’s special.”

Jasmine could tell that it wasn’t often Amber expressed thanks to her mother. The sentiment was genuine, but undermined by the strain that existed between the two.

“Indeed, Jasmine is special. And I trust her. That’s why I’m making her the offer to come over all summer. We’ll need someone to check on things, and I think she’s the perfect candidate.”

Amber’s suspicion kicked back in and the warmth she’d momentarily felt toward her mother evaporated. “Check on things? I don’t understand.”

Beverly smiled again; the smile had even more mischief in it. “Well, this wasn’t just a pool party to celebrate the school year ending. I also wanted to announce that you and I are going to Europe for the entire summer! Isn’t that fabulous?! Just you and me. A girl’s summer. France, Italy, Greece, Belgium, Sweden, Scotland. All of it.”

The smile that had been plastered on Jasmine’s cute face fell. She looked between Beverly and Amber. “Away all summer?”

Beverly nodded. “Yes. We leave on June first.”

Amber looked sick, too. “I don’t want to go, mother. I want to stay here with…stay here.” The girl’s voice was dripping with anger and grief. This party had been a ruse. Beverly knew what this separation would mean to the two girls, and Amber knew why she was doing this.

“Don’t be silly, dear. It will be fun!” Beverly’s upbeat tone sounded, and was, completely false.

Jasmine was crying. “I’ll miss your birthday. You’re turning eighteen.”

Beverly snapped around. “No, Jasmine, dear. You’re confused. Amber’s birthday is in February and she’ll just be turning sixteen.”

This reproach took Jasmine back to the discussion she’d had with Beverly the night of the dinner. It was a subtle reminder that her support of Amber, not Andrew, was implicit and required. Andrew might have been turning eighteen, but he was dead.

Amber dropped Jasmine’s hand, stood, and, not wearing heels, began pacing on tiptoes. “Why didn’t you tell me, mother? You can’t just do things like this.” Amber had balled up her fists, something not lost on her mother. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Beverly pointed at her daughter. “You need to calm down, young lady. Might I remind you of our agreement? This vacation fits into what we discussed. And don’t worry, you can Facetime with Jasmine whenever you like. It’s not like I’m exiling you to North Korea.”

Beverly then turned to Jasmine, her sickly sweet tone returning. “So, what do you say? If you can come by here three days a week I’ll pay you…how about $500 a week cash? Just make sure that the gardener and pool service is doing their jobs and that no one has broken in. And you can lie by the pool all day if you wish.”

Jasmine was still processing that Amber would be gone all summer and only half listened to what Beverly was saying. “All summer?” The question wasn’t about the job, but about Amber. But Beverly answered the former.

“Yes. You can have the job all summer. I’ll even pay you a month ahead. So, when we leave on the first, you’ll have $2000 in your pretty little hands.”

“Um. Okay.” Jasmine was staring at Amber as she answered. That only left them two weeks together. She’d hoped they could hang out every day during their summer break.

Beverly added. “And of course I’ll keep your meds coming, too. Seeing you happy means everything to Amber. Isn’t that right, dear? You’ll do anything for Jasmine, won’t you?”

Jasmine looked repeatedly between the mother and daughter. Something was up. Something was being said silently between them Jasmine wasn’t a part of. Something not right.

Amber looked broken, trying to smile sweetly at Jasmine, and said in a choked voice. “Yeah. Anything for Jasmine.” Her head dropped in defeat.

For Jasmine, the day that had been filled with so much fun suddenly felt like a funeral. The tension and anxiety were thick in the air as cicadas buzzed loudly in the sultry heat.

Jasmine stood and took Amber’s hand again. “I guess I better get back home.”

Beverly stood, too. She took Jasmine’s other hand and looked up and down at Jasmine’s developing body. “I bet you’re going to be a real looker when we get home in late August.”

“Late August.” Jasmine felt sick and her voice was weak.

For her part, Amber still wore an expression of stunned helplessness. Her impossibly large eyes were glassy with tears, and she looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights.

“Cheer up, girls! You’ll be fine. You know what they say; ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’.”

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After dropping Jasmine off at the McDonald’s, Beverly and Amber rode home in silence. Amber stormed into the house and went straight to her room, heavy oak doors slamming all the way. The bedroom had been decorated like a Barbie explosion, with pastel pinks and yellows dominating the ornate feminine boudoir. Amber hated the room for all it represented, even as she dove headfirst onto the lacy canopy bed and wailed into the fluffy pillows.

Beverly followed, a minute behind, into the girl’s bedroom, not bothering to knock. The door locked only from the outside and so there was nothing Amber could do to stop her vile mother from entering.

She heard Beverly enter and turned. “Are you here to gloat? Get the fuck out! Haven’t you done enough?! You’ve ruined me physically and now you’re taking away the only happiness I’ve ever had. I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! You talk about daddy and his cruelty. At least he was obviously cruel. You hide behind sweet smiles and fancy talk, but you’re worse than he ever was!” Amber turned away and buried her head in the pillows once more.

Beverly waited a calculated moment and then asked in a soft, condescending tone, “Are you done with your tantrum, dear? Because we need to talk. And we need to talk now. You are getting very close to violating your promise. And if you cross that line, it has consequences for you and for your street urchin friend across town. I know you say you don’t care what happens to you. Not that I believe you, but we both know you do care about poor, pitiful Jasmine. Or do you want to start seeing him as Jeremy again?”

Amber turned, her face a mask of pain and anger. “You wouldn’t! Even you wouldn’t do that!”

“I like Jasmine. But what you and I started is too important to let a waif like her get in the way. We’re in this to the finish. The question for you is whether you want that finish to include Miss Trailer Trash or if you want to be all on your own. Do you want to be a happy girl with a pretty girlfriend or do you want to be an unhappy girl with no one and carrying around the guilt that you stopped helping Jeremy?”

Amber sat up, her mother’s implications clear. “Don’t call her Jeremy. Just tell me what the fuck you want, then? You want me to be happy about leaving here for three months? You want me to be happy that I won’t get to be with the only genuinely good thing in my life?”

“The choice of happiness is all in your hands, dear. You can choose to enjoy this experience. You can decide to take in French culture and fashion and to enjoy Belgian confections and sample Italian food with joy, or you can sulk for three months. We’re going to do these things, you and I, whether you are happy about it or choose to wallow in self-pity and feigned misery.”

Amber shook her head. “You say I can be happy if I choose to be. Does that mean you won’t be drugging me this time?”

Beverly crossed the tiny heart under her vast bosom, “I promise. I won’t give you any mood-altering drugs. And I’ll even go one better. But if we agree on this last thing, you will not act as you have this afternoon ever again. No public displays of rebellion. No disrespect to me whether we are alone or with others. If you want to discuss something calmly and reasonably, we can. But no cursing. No unladylike actions or words.”

Amber had a feeling she knew what was coming. It was the last ace in her mother’s poker hand. These demands could only have one meaning. The “one last thing” Beverly referred to was it. Since meeting Jasmine, Amber had asked for this, but her mother refused. For her to bring it up now meant that it must be in play. Amber wiped her tears and sat demurely on the side of the bed. “I’m listening, mother and I’ll agree. But you know what I want in return.”

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Jasmine found Jeremy waiting in the Family restroom at McDonald’s and she climbed back inside the boy disguise she still had to wear before making the ride home. Luckily, there was a pair of jeans in the backpack, so when Jeremy arrived home, he’d look the part more than when he left.

Jeremy dreaded the scene to follow. Running away that afternoon would have consequences. And, right up until the moment Beverly dropped her bombshell, those upcoming consequences had been worth it.

But the day continued to offer surprises. When Jeremy rolled up, Clint’s old Chevy truck was gone. Tammy’s VW was there. Jeremy hoped against hope they had gone off together.

When Jeremy walked in, though, he was surprised to find Tammy sitting on a kitchen chair, one foot propped up on another chair while she painted her toenails. She looked up at the slack expression on Jeremy’s face, a cigarette dangling from her mouth. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.” He looked around the small space. “Where’s dad?”

Tammy blew on her big toe. “He got called in to work at the poultry plant. One of the guys is out sick.” She chuckled. “Funny enough, the guy ate some bad chicken.”

Jeremy nodded. “Well, okay. Thanks. I’ll be in my room.” He started down the short hallway.

Tammy called to him. “You know you fucked up, right? Runnin’ off like that.”

Jeremy paused. He didn’t need to hear this from some skank his dad was sleeping with.

She continued. “But I get it. You got to figure out who you are. Better figure it out now rather than being thirty-three with no idea how the fuck you got here.”

He turned to Tammy, wondering where this was coming from. She’d not said ten sentences to him before. Now she was opening up like they knew and liked each other.

She closed up the bottle of polish and set it on the table. “Don’t worry. He’s not going to beat you when he gets home. I told him to let you have this one.”

Jeremy asked, “Thanks. But why do you care what happens to me?”

“Don’t, really. Just don’t want your dad to go to jail for beating his son to death. Let’s just say it’s in my best interest that things stay calm around here.”

Jeremy turned back toward his room again, but Tammy wasn’t quite through.

“One thing, sunshine. I’d wash all that sweet-smelling suntan lotion off. You smell like Miss Hawaiian Tropic.”

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The next week was a short week at school, and everyone was excited about the upcoming summer. Everyone except Jasmine and Amber.

 Their afternoon sessions became more urgent. More physical. Neither crossed the line beyond petting, but both held pent up sexual energy that grew with each encounter. Amber noticed not only that Jasmine’s body was changing, but so was her very essence. Her scent was different. Her skin softer and finer. Before her eyes, Jasmine was becoming the woman of her dreams. The woman of both their dreams.

For Jasmine, Amber already was the woman of her dreams. She’d started as Jasmine’s ideal in seeking to become female, but her feelings had grown far beyond just admiration and appreciation, seeing the person behind the beauty. But there was an unspoken barrier between them. One that came to a head the night before Amber and Beverly were to leave.

Saturday, May 31st, Jasmine was invited over again for dinner. During the visit, Beverly showed her where everything was in the house and gave her the alarm codes and a set of codes for the digital locks to the gate, front door, pool area, and the garage. She showed her a list of phone numbers, too. Everything from the insurance company to plumbers and handymen.

After the meal, Beverly let Jasmine visit Amber’s room for the first time. Jasmine was overwhelmed by the girlie room. But, even in her awe, she was reminded of how short her time with Amber was; three large suitcases, a backpack, and a cosmetics bag were packed and ready to go.

Amber and Jasmine sat on the bed, clinging to their last moments together. For a long time, neither spoke. They just held each other and quietly sobbed.

Eventually, they started kissing. The pattern was not unlike their past encounters at first. But soon Jasmine’s hands began to wander more. She went slow, not wanting to upset Amber. The most female parts of Amber’s body had been off limits; the reluctant trans girl not wanting to be reminded of her plight. But tonight, Amber took Jasmine’s hand and moved it to her breast as their tension and desire ramped up. Jasmine took the cue and softly attended to Amber’s chest through her top.

Soon Amber’s top was off, as was Jasmine’s. This was followed by Amber’s bra. Taking the sign, Jasmine continued to caress her friend’s breasts with her soft fingers and then her mouth. Amber moaned in pleasure.

Amber slipped Jasmine’s bra off next and returned the affection. Jasmine hadn’t experienced just how sensitive and alive her nipples were until Amber’s lush mouth was around her slowly growing teats, biting lightly and gently sucking. She felt a firmness building down below. It had been taking longer to get firm over the last month, but tonight her maleness seemed to ignore the cocktail of female hormones assaulting its potency.

Jasmine was aware of her unladylike appendage and tried to move so it wasn’t evident to Amber. She wanted to be Amber’s girl, and the Jeremy part of her was not what a girl should have. She’d dreamed that one day she’d be all girl, but that day was not here.

Despite Jasmine’s efforts, Amber felt Jasmine’s hardness pressing into her thigh as Jasmine slid up and down her leg. Suddenly, Amber pushed Jasmine away.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” Amber sobbed. “I want to, Jasmine. I do want to make love to you, but I can’t.”

“What did I do wrong, Amber? What do you want me…”

“No. It’s not that. You’re perfect. You are wonderful.” As Amber said these words, she was slipping her bra back on and then her blouse.

“Then what is it? I won’t see you for almost three months. I wanted our last night together to be special.” Jasmine was confused and hurt by Amber’s rejection. She looked for the answer. “Do you want me to use my mouth? I’ve never done that, but for you, I will.”

Amber kissed Jasmine. It wasn’t a sexual kiss, but one of love. “No. I don’t want that. Not now, at least. Not until I can really get…Just not now.”

“Then what? Tell me Amber. Tell me, please.”

“I’m not…I’m still…how do I say this? This,” she gestured to her face and body, “is this shell I’ve been forced to wear, but it’s not…me. I’m still…me…underneath. And I like girls.”

Jasmine understood, and it cut her to the core. “I get it.” She started getting dressed. “And since I’m not fully a girl, you don’t want me because…”

“No! No! You don’t understand.” Amber held up her hands to stop Jasmine from saying more. “That’s not it at all. I…want you and only you, Jasmine. And I think of you only as a girl. I don’t want anyone else and never will. But the first time we are…together, I want it to be with me as Andrew and you as Jasmine. You as the woman you want to be. Me as the boy I am beneath all this…fluff.”

There was silence again. Neither knowing what to say. Jasmine broke the silence. The word ‘want’ wasn’t what she longed to hear. If Amber wouldn’t let her make love, could she bring herself to say the word? She was afraid to say it. Afraid it would not be returned.

“You want me? Is that all?” Jasmine started to cry again. “Just want me? I feel so much more than want. That’s why I was trying to show you how much I…felt…tonight.” Jasmine wanted desperately to hear that Amber loved her. She was dying to say it back. But she couldn’t now. The air was too thick with emotion and words. The wrong words.

“You don’t have to show me anything, Jasmine. But do you understand why I stopped you? If I saw the…the Jeremy that’s still part of you, I was afraid I’d…”

Jasmine nodded and whispered, unable to keep the shame and hurt out. “Yeah. I understand, Amber.” Jasmine had more to say, but stopped. Amber’s revelation was crushing. Hearing her express love was all Jasmine wanted to hear. But it wasn’t to come.

And on top of that, Amber wanting to be Andrew again was the last thing Jasmine hoped for. She’d not been doing much to follow Beverly’s wishes to help Amber feel happier as a girl, but secretly, she wanted that as much as Beverly did. More even. For entirely different reasons.

Jasmine wanted to be a complete girl. She was a girl in every way, but physically. But Jasmine was a lesbian. She didn’t want to be with a boy. Her advance tonight wasn’t for her own pleasure. She was trying to satisfy Amber. And it was Amber she loved, not Andrew.

They held each other again, the unspoken love floating around them in the dim light of the room. But something else was there, too. A tension. A tension that had not been there before. Amber’s rejection of Jasmine’s advance had placed a new obstacle in their path. Jasmine knew it. Amber did not. But to Jasmine, that was okay for now. They’d have time to talk about it when Amber returned in August. Deep down, she believed Amber loved her. I have to believe that.

Beverly entered the room. “Time for you to go, dear. Amber and I have an early flight tomorrow out of Augusta. Here, as I promised.” She handed Jasmine an envelope. “Your first four weeks of pay. I’ll send the rest to you a month at a time. Just do as you promised. I’m counting on you.”

The ride back to McDonald’s was quiet. Beverly kept reminding Jasmine about things around the house, but the two girls just held hands and stared straight ahead.

Jasmine changed back into Jeremy in the McDonald’s. She didn’t want Amber to see her in her male disguise. Not tonight. Especially after what had happened. Jeremy rode the bike home in the dark, fighting tears all the way.

When he arrived home, mentally exhausted, a slightly drunk Clint waited for him, Tammy at his side, smiling. Jeremy made it past him and into his room to find something lying on the bed. He picked it up and returned to the den. “What’s this?”

Clint turned to him. “Oh. That’s your uniform.”

“Uniform? For what?”

“Your summer job.” He opened a fresh beer. “You weren’t getting off your ass to find something, so I did it…we did it…for you.”

Jasmine examined the uniform shirt. On the shoulder it read “BCSD maintenance.”

Clint continued. “Tammy knows the maintenance supervisor at the sheriff’s department. She talked to him and got you a job as a janitor.”

“Janitor? I don’t want to do that.” He started to tell his father about the job watching the Newhouse mansion, but held that info.

“And I don’t want a smart-ass pussy boy as a son, either. But guess what? Both of us ain’t going to be happy.” Clint swigged his beer. “Now, you thank Tammy for getting you that job.”

“What will I be doing?”

Clint stood menacingly over the petite teenager. “That wasn’t a thank you, boy.”

Jeremy was fuming, but kept cool. “Thank you, Tammy. Now, what will I be doing?”

Tammy laughed. “You’ll get to clean out the jail cells once the drunks and druggies go to court.”

Jeremy cringed. “How much does it pay?”

Clint grinned and burped. “About $3.60 an hour before taxes.”

“What? Minimum wage is double that!” Jeremy was shaking with rage now. Between the scene with Amber and this news, it was almost more than he could handle.

“Yep, but I get half your pay. Call it room and board. You’re about to turn eighteen. Time you paid for living here or moved out.”

=========================================================

June started out rough for Jasmine. She had to be Jeremy almost all the time. Jasmine stayed under the bed in her suitcase and box. No female underwear or anything feminine was possible, given where she was working. The only concessions to Jasmine were the taking of her meds and hair care. And the hair was immediately in jeopardy as her boss wanted her to cut it short. Thankfully, she could put it into a modified man bun and keep it from the scissors.

Jeremy’s duties as janitor were unpleasant, to say the least. The prisoners were not concerned in the least about the mess they made, and the human body can produce some of the vilest liquids on earth.

He thought about finding his own place. Making the money he was from Beverly, he could afford it. But Jeremy knew it all would come to an end in August, along with the job at the sheriff’s department. He’d have to find a way to survive at home with Clint, and apparently Tammy, until he finished high school next spring.

Getting to the Newhouse home for the required checks was difficult. The sheriff’s office, trailer park, and the Newhouse compound were not close to each other. Jeremy rode his bike to the janitorial job but had to take a bus from the sheriff’s office to the mansion and then from the mansion to a stop near the McDonald’s. This entailed having to load and unload the bike twice each time. And the hormones weren’t making hoisting the bike any easier.

Additionally, Amber was incommunicado for the first three days of their trip. Cell service and time zone differences were both issues. They finally got to talk when Amber arrived in Paris and they had at least a brief conversation every day during that two-week stay. Amber seemed cheerful and hopeful. During one conversation, she told Jasmine, “I think Mom is coming around. I think she might reconsider me having to be Amber. She’s been really sweet. I think I will ask her on my birthday. My actual birthday next month.”

Meanwhile, at work, an incident where a drunk prisoner grabbed Jeremy caused a change in his duties. Being the slight boy he was, the office manager felt like it was too dangerous for him to work near the prisoners. So, he was moved to cleaning the sheriff’s department offices instead, alongside the two maids.

When Amber and Beverly moved on to Venice, Amber’s mood seem to shift. She was still having a good time, but her previous positivity had given way a little to suspicion. “Mom’s always on the phone. And when I walk up, she stops talking. I don’t know what she’s up to. She keeps saying she’s reconsidering what she’s going to do regarding me. But I don’t know. How can I trust her after all she’s already done?”

During Jeremy’s second week in the office area, he was cleaning the desk of a detective when he bumped the computer mouse of the PC there. It woke the screen, and the image Jeremy saw caused him to gasp. While he was gawking at the bloody crime scene photographs on the screen, the detective walked up. “Pretty bad, huh?”

Jeremy jumped and turned to the attractive Latina woman holding a cup of coffee. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snoop. I must have hit a key or your mouse while wiping the desk.”

The detective, Olivia Ramirez, replied kindly, “It’s okay. I should have locked my computer. I’m detective Ramirez.” She extended her hand and took Jeremy’s incredibly soft hand in hers.

“Hi. I’m Jeremy. Jeremy Joad.” Jeremy couldn’t help himself. He pointed at the screen. “What happened to her?”

Ramirez toggled off that screen and then answered. “She was kidnapped by a human trafficking ring. She kept escaping. So, they killed her to make an example of her. And then they left her body for the others to see.”

“That’s awful! How could one human being do that to another?”

“Greed. It’s all about money. Everything is about money. Sadly,” the detective lamented, “I see scenes like this every week.”

Olivia considered the short, thin boy with the soft face. “I haven’t seen you here before. Is this a summer job?”

Jeremy nodded, pushing a long hair behind his ear in a decidedly Jasmine gesture. “Yeah. My dad said I need to learn what work is like.”

“You’re in high school then, I guess.”

“Yeah. Senior this fall.” Jeremy could tell that this woman was assessing him, and it made him uncomfortable. As much as Jasmine wanted to be out as Jasmine, Jeremy feared what that would mean. And this woman with the perceptive eyes was just what he feared.

“You look so young to be a senior.” Her voice was gentle, but with an inquisitive edge.

“Actually, I’m eighteen. My birthday was yesterday.” Jeremy had been held back a year in elementary school. After his mom left, he went wild for a year and so the school had him repeat fourth grade.

“Well, it’s good to meet you. Do you have any interest in law enforcement?”

Jeremy considered the question. Not that he had any desire to be a cop, but what he considered was that he had no plan for his life beyond becoming Jasmine and being with Amber. “Maybe. I don’t know. Still figuring things out, I guess, detective.”

“Call me Olivia.” She smiled warmly and placed her hand on his narrow shoulder. “It was nice to meet you, Jeremy.”

==================================================

After Amber and her mother left Venice, they were supposed to go to Stockholm. During all the weeks before, Amber and Jasmine had talked almost every day. But on the day before mother and daughter were supposed to leave for Sweden, all communication stopped.

Jasmine texted every day and called every evening. But there was no answer or reply. She also texted and called Beverly, but she, too, didn’t answer or reply to messages. Jasmine was worried sick. The last conversation she had with Amber seemed perfectly normal. What could have happened to them?

Jeremy had been talking to Detective Ramirez every day about Olivia’s work with kidnapped and exploited teens. They even started eating lunch together the days when the detective wasn’t out on a case. A week after Amber dropped off the radar, Jeremy asked the detective for help. Ramirez specialized in human trafficking and kidnapping. He first tried to ask for help without revealing details about the situation, but that was impossible.

When Jeremy told the whole story, minus that he was taking hormones provided by Beverly and was considering having to bind his breasts every day to come to work, the detective thought he was making it up. The story about Andrew being killed off and becoming Amber seemed, even to Jeremy, as he told the story, unbelievable.

“I’m not making this up. Check. See if you can find a skiing accident on February 14, 2022, where a boy named Andrew Newhouse was killed in Switzerland.”

The detective found the obituary, but when she checked for reports from the resort’s ski safety patrol or from local news agencies, she found nothing. No hospital records, either, or any documents showing a body had been transported from Switzerland back to the US.

“And look for what you can find about Amber Newhouse.”

There wasn’t much there, either. But since records for adoptions are sealed, that fact, in and of itself, seemed normal. The thing that convinced the Olivia that Jeremy wasn’t lying was Amber’s date of birth. Amber was born on the same day and month that Andrew supposedly died and she was born in the same small town as Andrew. Yes, it was possible, but seemed an odd coincidence.

After the research, Olivia promised to question Beverly and Amber when they returned from Europe.

Jeremy was happy to have gotten this far, but expressed his worry to Ramirez, saying, “If they come back.”

================================================================

Amber woke in a fog. She was lying on a soft bed in a dimly lit room, but it took several seconds for her to focus. It was a fancy hotel room and, judging by the light coming in the windows, it was dawn or dusk. When she went to sleep the night before, they were in a quaint inn near the Grand Canal in Venice. This clearly wasn’t the same place.

She tried to sit up, but felt an immediate dizziness and lay back. “Mom! Are you here?” Amber’s voice sounded odd to her.

Amber heard a door open and her mother came to her side. “Oh. I see you’re finally awake.”

She squinted at her mother, Amber’s mind still coming out of a deep, coma-like sleep. But something was different about Beverly. “Where are we? What happened last night? And what’s wrong with my voice?”

Beverly sat on the edge of the bed and took her daughter’s hand. “Nothing happened last night, dear.”

“But we’re not in Venice. I went to sleep in Venice.”

“Well, yes. You did, sweetie. But that wasn’t last night.” Beverly gave one of those feline smiles to her child. “Now, go back to sleep. We’ll talk later.”

Beverly pulled the comforter over her daughter, and Amber felt something pressing on her chest that chilled her to her core.

=============================================================

August second, Jasmine found an envelope just inside the mansion’s entrance addressed to her. The envelope contained no note; just $2000 in cash. She had continued calling and texting, eventually filling up Amber’s voicemail inbox so that no new messages could be left. The money, at least, proved that the two travelers were probably still alive.

Though they hadn’t talked, Jasmine received several disjointed texts from Amber over the last month, all talking about the fun she was having and how much better things were with her mom. But Jasmine could never get in touch directly. The promise Beverly had made about being able to Facetime every night was not happening.

One text said they were going on a cruise around the Aegean Sea and would not have cell service for two weeks. And, sure enough, two weeks later, Amber sent a text including photos of them on a ship with sparkling blue water in the background. She looked happy, but something didn’t feel right. There was something about those photos.

Every text included declarations of Amber’s feeling for Jasmine and recounting where they’d been in Brussels or Athens or Edinburgh. The texts seemed devoid of emotion and the longer they went without actually talking, the more concerned Jasmine became. Has Amber found someone else? Was she right and Beverly had consented to let him be Andrew? The possibilities flowed through Jasmine in a whirl of worry.

Today, with the envelope in hand, Jasmine felt a little better. And Amber would be home in less than a month. She had been working on something Amber had commented about early in their relationship and then again during one of their conversations when Amber was in Venice. And with on this Saturday, with the day to herself, she decided to work on it.

Jasmine entered Amber’s bedroom and took off her Jeremy outer clothes. She then stripped out of her panties and bra. Since moving to the office area, and especially since meeting Olivia, Jeremy had been a little more Jasmine at work. The bra, especially, was needed to keep the expanding nipples from rubbing inside the rough uniform shirt. She stared at her five-foot six-inch body in the full-length mirror there, running her hands up and down her belly and chest. She’d performed this “examination” at least weekly since coming to the Newhouse mansion, searching for changes in her developing body.

 Jasmine knew taking hormones takes months to show any real impact and years for a body to change as Amber’s had. But something was happening with Jasmine’s body. Beverly wasn’t lying about these hormones. They were potent.

Her breasts were in the A-cup range, but the nipples and areolae portended much more to come. Jasmine’s mother had been busty. The bras she’d left behind when she left Clint were all D and DD cup. Clint’s sister also had quite the rack. So, genetics would seem to be on Jasmine’s side there.

But it was below her chest that the real changes had happened. Always skinny, Jasmine’s belly was flat and smooth. And now the trim stomach didn’t lead to boyish hips and thighs. No. Jasmine’s lower half was unmistakably feminine now. She’d put on sexy weight in her upper legs and rear. The jeans she wore today were straining to contain her new form. And the panties she wore looked more natural on her hips, too. It was only in front that Jasmine’s origin was obvious now.

Tammy and Clint had seemed to notice, but neither seemed to realize what was going on. Tammy joked Jeremy was getting a fat ass. And in some ways, that was true, except it wasn’t just fat. Jasmine had seen Tammy around the trailer in her panties and compared herself to her father’s girlfriend. She knew she had a sexier butt than Tammy.

Done staring at her reflection, Jasmine put on a robe, picked up a small bag, and went down to the basement fitness room. Unsurprisingly, it was a fully equipped gym. She walked past the stair climber, elliptical, palates transformer, and treadmill and stood beside the tanning bed there. She knew that tanning beds were not that safe, but Jasmine wanted to be tanned and pretty when Amber saw her. With all she was putting her developing body through, what’s the harm in a little artificial tan?

She donned the tiny goggles and set the timer for twenty minutes. While the machine hummed and irradiated her skin, Jasmine closed her eyes and thought for the thousandth time what it would be like to rush into Amber’s arms and kiss her again. Their awkward night before Amber and her mom left was forgotten, replaced with the love that separation nurtured during their time apart.

After the tanning bed, she put on the pair of exercise shorts and shoes she’d brought down from the bedroom and used the stair climber for thirty minutes before heading back upstairs. She squeezed into the swimsuit Beverly had gifted her; the bottoms becoming harder to fit her growing caboose, and then swam laps in the covered pool till lunch. Jasmine ate the sandwich she’d brought with her and then, reluctantly, returned to the bedroom to become Jeremy again.

As she passed through the den on her way to out, she glanced at the gorgeous furnishings as she did every time. This time, Jasmine noticed something seemed off. The massive bird motif pillows were arranged on the sofa as normal, but one of them wasn’t right. The bright yellow goldfinches patterned on the pillows were always upright, like the bird was perched on a limb. This time, though, one bird was sideways. That’s odd. She straightened the pillow and looked around some more. Nothing else seemed amiss.

Every time she came to the Newhouse mansion, Jasmine found it harder and harder to leave. The idea of getting on her bike and returning to the squalor of the trailer park was depressing and distasteful. Tainting her love for Amber in these moments as she set the alarm and locked the immense oak front door was just a spark of jealousy for what the rich girl had. Jasmine knew these feelings were wrong, but they were hard to completely suppress. And with not talking to Amber in weeks, she found that absence can lead to many feelings, not just fondness.

===========================================================

On August 22nd, Jeremy said goodbye to the sheriff’s department staff and turned in the uniform. It had been a good summer job, after all, and he’d thanked Tammy and Clint several times for the opportunity. He didn’t appreciate having to give half his pay to his father, but then again, he had almost $6000 in cash from Beverly Newhouse, so things weren’t so bad.

Detective Ramirez motioned him into an interrogation room before he left and asked him to sit down. She had several pamphlets in her hand and slid them over to Jeremy. This was an old detective ploy. Olivia wanted to see how Jeremy reacted. She had half expected him to cringe or be angry at what these were, but Jeremy just smiled.

“You’ve seen these before, I take it,” pointing to the gender counseling and “It’s okay to be gay” pamphlets. Olivia was shaking her head.

Jeremy smiled, something he found himself doing often around the attractive detective. “Yeah. I knew you’d figured it out. I almost told you, but I have a hard time trusting people.”

Olivia sighed. “I get it. And doing what I do, I think it’s wise to be guarded. But since we’re here, tell me. Are you getting professional counseling?”

“No. Can’t afford anything like that. Besides, my father would literally kill me if he found out. I have to make it through next year. My grades are good. I need to graduate. And then maybe I can do something more…for me.” Jeremy looked at the stainless steel table, his eyes becoming glassy with tears. He’d done a good job of keeping his emotions in check, but he felt safe here with Olivia and his barriers were giving way. And it felt good. Since Amber had been gone, he’d felt alone and with no outlet for his most personal thoughts.

Ramirez said nothing. She was waiting for Jeremy to continue. And he did.

“Thank you for being so nice to me. I don’t have anyone to talk to; anyone who will listen. But you. You’ve been so…” Tears tumbled from Jeremy’s eyes.

“I like you, kid. I could see some of the pain in you when we first met. And I can see you have baggage. But I can also see you haven’t let the world beat you.” She put her hand on Jeremy’s. “Please take care of yourself.”

“Thanks. I will. But I do have one request.”

Olivia nodded. “Sure. What is it?”

“Please talk to Amber and Beverly when they get home.”

Ramirez sighed. “I told you I would. And I will. But I have one thing to ask in return.”

Jeremy looked up at Olivia. “What’s that?”

“Tell me. What’s your name? I have a feeling you don’t identify as ‘Jeremy’.”

He’d been in Jeremy mode. But now he smiled, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. She then pursed her lips and tilted her head slightly. When she opened her eyes again, she was Jasmine. The voice changed. It was the voice that felt most natural. “You’re the detective. You tell me.”

Olivia’s mouth fell open. “Wow. That’s something!” She picked up the pamphlets. “You don’t need these.”

Jasmine shook her head slowly. “No. I don’t need them. I’ve been studying about who and what I am for a very long time.”

“And your father really doesn’t know? Doesn’t have a clue?”

Jasmine winced and looked down at the table. “No. Thankfully, he’s an idiot, and he’s so hung up on his girlfriend I don’t exist. He’d kill me if he knew.”

“Honey, he’s going to find out. I may be a detective, but…lets just say you aren’t far from being too pretty to fool him.”

Jasmine blushed. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t mean that as a compliment, Jeremy. I’m worried about what might happen.” Ramirez started pacing around the room.

“Jasmine.”

The pretty detective stopped pacing. “What did you say?”

“I said my name is Jasmine.”

========================================================

When Jasmine wheeled her bike through the trailer park entrance that day, she saw a familiar black Bentley parked just inside. She dropped the bike and ran to the car, pulling open the passenger door to see only Mrs. Newhouse sitting there behind the wheel. She looked tanned and fit and…different.

“Where’s Amber? Is she okay?”

Beverly blew smoke to the side and crushed out the cigarette. “She’s fine, dear. We got in yesterday. You did a great job looking after the house. Thank you.”

“Where is she, Mrs. Newhouse? Where is Amber?” Jasmine was panicking. Something was wrong.

Beverly handed Jasmine an envelope. “Here is a $2000 bonus for your excellent work and a refillable prepaid prescription for your meds that should last you a year.”

“I don’t care about money, Mrs. Newhouse. Where the hell is Amber?!”

“Tone, young…lady. Tone. I don’t take that from my daughter, and I certainly won’t take it from a piece of trailer trash like you.”

Jasmine ignored the insult. “Tell me. Please. Where is she?”

Beverly sighed. “Amber is at home. She is safe and healthy. She doesn’t want to see you anymore. Besides, she’s much too much woman for you now, dear. She’s…moved on. We’ve moved on.”

“But I haven’t moved on! I need to see her! I need to know she’s okay. Please don’t shut me out, Mrs. Newhouse! I’m begging you!”

Beverly put the car in drive. “Shut you out? Shut you out? Ha! My dear, you were never in. Stay away from Amber! If you don’t, you will regret it!” Beverly threw the envelope at Jasmine and pressed a button on the dashboard. The passenger door silently closed on its own as the sleek black car pulled away.

==========================================================

Ignoring Beverly’s warning, Jasmine tried to call Amber, only to find the phone number wasn’t active anymore. She rode over to the gated subdivision, but could not get in. The guards that had been friendly all summer now treated “Jeremy” with disdain and threatened to call the Police. She saw a photo of herself as Jeremy entering the mansion gate tacked on the guard shack wall. Under it were the words, “Teen vandal. Be on the lookout.”

She sat by the curb just outside the ornate gate and wept. Jasmine mumbled repeatedly, “I was never in. I was never in.”

 

===========================================================

School started the next week. Jasmine searched everywhere for Amber but could not find her. She visited Ms. Sheridan in the guidance office and was informed that Amber had moved to another school. “I was asked to keep that information confidential, Jeremy. I’m sorry. I know you were fond of Amber.”

Jasmine wasn’t surprised, but it was one of her last hopes gone. During lunch, she pulled out the business card for Olivia Ramirez and left a message for the detective. When Olivia called back later that afternoon, she told Jasmine she couldn’t help locate Amber for her. “I can’t perform a search for you, sweetie. It’s not legal. I haven’t forgotten my promise, but I can’t help you directly.”

Every day after school for that first week, Jasmine would wait outside the fancy gated community where Amber lived, hoping to get a glimpse. Hoping to at least know that Amber was okay. But after getting caught in two thunderstorms and having a flat tire on her bike, she gave up that effort. Jasmine vowed to never give up looking, but clearly waiting outside the subdivision gate was futile.

It was on the next Saturday that things changed. Jasmine was sitting in her bedroom sulking. She hadn’t been eating and barely slept. She was consumed with finding her lost love. She’s right here in town, but I can’t get to her!

Just before noon, Jasmine emerged from her bedroom to find Tammy and Clint sitting on the couch, as usual. They hadn’t been getting along as well lately and had had a fight earlier that morning. Jasmine didn’t hear it because of her ear buds, but she felt the trailer shake as they stomped around.

Apparently, Clint was tired of yelling at Tammy and turned his ire on Jasmine. “Now that you’re not working, you’re going to have to earn your keep, boy. Start by picking up this place. It’s a mess. And when you’re done, you can go get us lunch.”

The den was a mess, but none of the mess was Jasmine’s. But she was too depressed to argue and started picking up beer cans and empty wrappers and stuffing them into a trash bag. As she was throwing a paper cup away, the answer dawned on her. The cup was a coffee cup from Dunkin’ Donuts, but it reminded her of the meeting with Amber at Starbucks.

“Her nails!” Jasmine had unintentionally said it out loud, but didn’t care. She turned to Tammy. “She gets her nails done twice a month!”

Clint burped. “What the hell are you talking about, boy?”

Jasmine dropped the trash bag and bolted for the door. She rode her bike as fast as she could to the strip mall, working up a sweat in the humid summer air. She leaned the bike against the rack outside of Starbucks and ran, out of breath and smelling like a boy who needed a shower, into the elegant salon and up to the young girl at the desk. “Does…Amber…Newhouse…have…an appointment today?”

The girl, whose nametag read “Jessie,” looked Jasmine up and down before responding, “We don’t give out client information, current or former.”

“Please. I have to find her!” The girl turned to an older woman standing nearby.

 The woman, apparently in charge, approached Jasmine. “Do you have an appointment…sir? If not, then I’d like to ask you to leave.”

Jasmine stepped outside and leaned against the door. She was tired and distraught. She’d been sure this was a good lead. It is a good lead. I’ll just have to come back here every Saturday.

She returned to her bike and got on to leave. Wistfully, she looked through the tinted coffee shop windows at the table she’d sat at with Amber. Someone was sitting there. It was a girl. Could it be?

Jasmine dropped the bike and opened the door. It wasn’t Amber. Jasmine could see the girl in profile as she played with her phone. Instead of brunette, this girl was honey blonde. And her hair was much longer than Amber’s. Her face was pretty, with a small nose and soft features. But the deciding factor was below her chin. The girl had extremely large breasts and was dressed in a low cut top that showed them to full effect.

Jasmine was about to go when the girl turned to look at her. Jasmine saw something. That same look of terror and recognition she’d seen that day in the school lunchroom as Jeremy held the pill bottle of estrogen. And then it hit Jasmine. The eyes. The Sailor Moon eyes. It’s her!

The blonde girl stood suddenly, her feet in four-inch stilettos. She wore a skirt that was much too short to be considered decent and far from the school dress code. Her newly enhanced, lush plump lips trembled as she mouthed the word, “No.”

Jeremy approached her. “Amber? My god! It’s you!”

Amber said nothing.

He tried to hug her, but she backed away. “Please, Amber. Please! Talk to me.”

Amber shook her head and then looked down.

And it hit Jeremy. What had been different about Mrs. Newhouse when he saw her in the car at the trailer park. “She did it, didn’t she? She gave you her…” He gestured at her breasts.

Amber turned away in shame, shaking as she sobbed, and Jeremy saw something else. Amber’s rear had been modest. Cute. Pert. But even early into Jasmine’s hormone treatments, her ass had been fuller than Amber’s. But no more. Amber wasn’t quite Kim Kardasian-assed, but there was no denying she was a full, firm peach now. The effect was further highlighted by the extremely short, tight skirt.

Jeremy didn’t know what to say. Why wasn’t Amber responding? Was she mute? Was that why she couldn’t talk to him during the trip? Had Beverly taken away her very voice? Into the impossible silence, Jasmine blurted out, “I know a detective at the sheriff’s office. She believes she can stop your mother and help you become Andrew again. She has leads into the fake car accident and your fake skiing accident. I know these last things you mom did are um…” He faltered. “But I’m sure we can fix this.”

Amber stopped shaking and turned to face Jasmine. In a lilting, high-pitched voice that now sounded more like a young girl than a young woman, she said, “It’s too late. Andrew is gone.”

Jasmine walked toward her, but Amber called out, “No. Don’t! Stop! Just leave me alone.” She sounded hurt, frightened, and angry.

“Please. Tell me why…” Jasmine felt ill. The one person in the world she loved was in such pain, and she couldn’t help.

Amber screamed. “Go the fuck away! You have your life! Go be with those other…” She sobbed uncontrollably.

Jasmine realized with a shock that Amber was angry with her.

But before Jasmine could respond, a large man sitting nearby stood up and spoke to Amber. “Is this boy bothering you?”

The Starbucks manager, a college aged hunk, joined the man and addressed Jasmine. “You need to leave! Now!”

Amber ran to the restroom, sobbing loudly, her stilettos clicking on the tile floor.

“She’s my girlfriend!” Jasmine pointed to where Amber had gone. “I need to talk to her! Something is wrong!”

The customer who had first stood up laughed. He gestured toward the restroom. “Girlfriend? Like you could get a girl like that! Dream on, kid.”

The manager took Jasmine’s arm and pushed her out into the bright sunshine. He snapped a photo with his phone and called out, “And don’t ever come back here again, boy, or I’ll call the cops!”

Outside the Starbucks, Jasmine saw a familiar black SUV pull up to the curb. Beverly got out and approached. “I told you to leave us alone, and I warned you there would be consequences if you tried to find Amber. And in case you haven’t noticed, Jeremy, I don’t give second chances.”

She picked up Jasmine’s bike and spoke to the Starbucks manager, who was still watching. “He broke into my house and stole my daughter’s bike while we were out of town. I have it on video. Would you be a lamb and help me put it in the back of my car?”

“Yes, ma’am. Do you want to call the police? I’ll make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”

“Thank you, young man. But I don’t think that will be necessary.” She turned to Jasmine with a sarcastic smile. “I think the walk home will teach him the required lesson.” She pressed the button on her key and the lift-gate of the Cadillac opened.

The young manager picked up the bike with one hand and tossed it into the back of the SUV.

Beverly Newhouse pointed at Jasmine. “I’m going to go get my frightened daughter. You better be gone by the time we come back.”

The bicycle was a signal that Jasmine was powerless. Beverly held all the cards. At least for now.

Before entering the Starbucks, Beverly placed a call. Jasmine heard her say, “Time to call it. Do what we talked about and then get your stuff and go.”

================================================================

Amber continued to cry all the way home from the strip mall. She would not speak to her mother. But Beverly filled the air with her reproaches and accusations.

“I told you to stay away from that…thing! Did you contact Jasmine? Did you tell them you would be there today?”

Amber didn’t reply. Didn’t acknowledge her at all. Her agony at seeing Jasmine was unbearable. Even after all that had been done to forever alter Amber’s anatomy, the pain of seeing her lost love was far worse.

“Well, I can promise you it won’t happen again. I’ve seen to that! You won’t see that gutter garbage!”

They entered the enormous house, and Amber started up the spiral staircase to her room. She turned. “What did you mean when you said you’d made sure I never saw Jasmine again?”

“Well, let’s just say that Clint and Jeremy Joad are having a father-son discussion of epic proportions right now.” Beverly laughed out loud. “I don’t think Jasmine will look so pretty come tomorrow.”

Amber gasped. “You didn’t! You didn’t call his father! I hate him, but I didn’t want that. Please tell me you’re not serious.”

Beverly tilted her head. “No. I didn’t call his father. Didn’t have to. But I do believe that the cat is out of the bag; or maybe it’s the pussy is out of the suitcase.” She continued. “What do you care? You saw the pictures. You saw she’s been seeing other girls. Brought them to this very house. Kissed on the couch and undoubtedly went to your bed. She never cared a thing for you, Amber. She only wanted our money and those precious hormones.”

=========================================================

By the time Jeremy made it home, it was nearly dark. But it would never be as dark as his spirits. And if he thought taking the bike was what Beverly meant by consequences, he was sorely mistaken.

Tammy was coming out of the trailer carrying a duffel bag. She looked at Jeremy. “It’s been fun, powderpuff. I’d love to stay and watch what comes next, but Mrs. Newhouse says I’m not needed here anymore. You really shouldn’t have fucked with her, you know. She’s one vindictive bitch. I can tell you from experience! See you…Jasmine. You take care, you hear?” She laughed.

Jasmine was stunned. Tammy? She worked for Mrs. Newhouse? He watched her get into her Volkswagen and pull away.

Jasmine opened the mobile home door to her worst nightmare, or what would have been her worst nightmare before her encounter with Amber at Starbucks. Lying on the floor of the den was her secret suitcase and the box of extras. And strewn around the room were its contents. Clint was standing by the kitchen sink pouring something down the drain. Jasmine realized, to her horror, that it was her prescriptions.

Jasmine hadn’t spoken since her last words to Amber, but now she found her voice. It was the voice of a girl that screamed, “No!!!”

Clint turned to his only child, tears streaming down the man’s face. “I lost Tammy because of you, you perverted homo!” He charged at Jasmine. “Get the fuck out of my house! You are no son of mine! Go suck cock, you gay whore! Don’t you ever come near this place again or I’ll kill you, so help me.” He swung at Jasmine, who ran out the door and into the dusk, her world falling away beneath her.

She had nowhere to go, and it was starting to rain. Jasmine looked at her phone. Only 5% battery left. Only enough charge for one call.

“Hey. It’s me. I need your help.”

“Jasmine? Is that you? What’s wrong?”

“You were right, Olivia. I’m…all…alone.” Her words were punctuated by convulsive sobs.

“Where are you? Are you safe? Tell me and I’ll come get you.”

============================================================

Olivia Ramirez could see why Jasmine Joad had misread Beverly Newhouse. Jasmine trusted her to a point and, even where she didn’t trust her, she’d not anticipated just how far the woman would go to get what she wanted. And as Beverly was supplying her with the hormones Jasmine desperately needed, it was understandable.

Amber, too, had known her mother was single-minded and could be cruel. But even she didn’t know just how cruel. How selfish. But Olivia could see Beverly for who she was. And she knew what really motivated her actions.

Olivia Ramirez read Beverly Newhouse like a children’s book. Years of dealing with the heartless peddlers in human flesh had sharpened the detective’s eye to the “tells” of a person who was just slightly more evil than they were clever.

Sitting in the interrogation room with Beverly Newhouse after four hours was getting tiresome. But they were close.

“So, you’ve said your husband died in a car accident, is that right?”

“Yes. We’ve been over this. A dump truck pulled out in front of his car and he couldn’t avoid it. Poor man.” Beverly was growing weary, but still felt she was in control. Nothing she’d been asked indicated this detective had anything on her.

“And this was when you lived in Chicago. Is that right?”

“Yes. Well, Schiller Park. But yes, right outside of Chicago.” She sipped on a bottled water, playing with her expensive bracelet looking bored.

“And who was driving the dump truck that killed your husband in this accident?”

“For the tenth time, I don’t remember. I didn’t go to his trial or ever even see him in person.”

“And you had no contact with him or anyone close to him. Is that right?”

Beverly shifted in her seat. “No. Why would I? It was an accident.”

Ramirez opened a folder and laid it on the table. “Well, it so happens that I do know who was driving that dump truck. It was a man named Lenny Kesolowski.”

“If you say so, detective. I remember it was a Polish name. But what does that have to do with me? And when are you going to tell me why I’m here?”

“Getting to that, Mrs. Newhouse.” Olivia stood. “Lenny Kesolowski was married. His wife is, or was, named Tammy Kesolowski. She sometimes goes by Tammy Owens and, lo-and-behold, she moved right here to Beaufort earlier this year.”

Beverly flushed momentarily but didn’t respond.

The detective leaned over the table, getting right in Beverly’s face. “Do you know Tammy Owens?”

Beverly sat back and sipped her water. “No.”

Olivia pressed her. “Did you have Tammy Owens impersonate another woman? Did you send the woman to Beaufort High School to impersonate the mother of another student there? Did you have Tammy bring drugs into the school to give to this student?”

Beverly sat up straight in the hard metal chair. “I think I’m done answering your questions. If you want to talk to me further, you can speak to my attorney. Good day, detective.” She stood to leave.

Detective Ramirez called to her. “Oh, we will talk again, Mrs. Newhouse. We will. Don’t leave town. See you soon.”

Olivia followed Beverly out of the interview room. The flustered woman was breathing heavily as she made her way through the squad room on the way out. Her eyes passed over the detectives and other officers around the room, and then she froze as her gaze fell on someone she recognized. Sitting at a desk playing with her phone was an attractive young girl with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. The girl looked up as Beverly Newhouse passed and their eyes met. No words were exchanged, but for once, the look of fear was on Beverly’s face as she muttered, “Fuck! You!” Cameras all around the squad room caught the reaction.

Olivia came to the girl after Beverly left. “We’ve got her, Jasmine! Now, let’s get you out of here. You did good, honey. Beverly’s reaction will play well with the jury.”

=============================================================

Two months later, Amber Newhouse rode in the front seat of the unmarked police car as it left the Beaufort County courthouse and made its way through town on a crisp fall day. They passed by the sheriff’s office and continued out to the highway. Amber asked, her childlike voice defying her sultry look, “Where are we going, Ms. Ramirez? I thought you were taking me to get my mother’s things from your evidence locker.”

“I am, Amber. I am. Or would you rather me call you Andrew?”

The question turned Amber’s stomach, and she replied sadly in her sweet, soft voice, “No. For good or for bad, my mother has ensured that I’m Amber.”

Olivia squeezed Amber’s hand. “We’ll get your mother’s items. Just have to make one stop first. It’s been a long day and I need some coffee.”

The first trial had gone exceptionally fast. Tammy Owens testified to everything Beverly had asked her to do, and the jury was back in less than ten minutes with the guilty verdicts. There were more trials to come, including a murder trial in Illinois. But for now, Beverly Newhouse was enjoying the finest accommodations of the Beaufort County Detention Center.

Olivia pulled up to that familiar Starbucks and got out. She opened Amber’s door. “Afraid I can’t leave you in the car. Come on in. I’ll buy you an iced caramel cappuccino.”

“No…No, detective. I don’t want to go in there. It’s hard to explain.” But then Amber’s brow furrowed. “How did you know I like caramel cappuccinos?”

Olivia smiled. “I didn’t know. But the person waiting for you inside did. And she’s been waiting on you for an awfully long time.”

================================================================

Jasmine nuzzled Amber’s neck, breathing hard. “I’ve missed this so much. Thought I’d never be this close to you again.” The two girls lay on the sofa at the mansion, having come in from a swim and changed into shorts and t-shirts.

“You’ve been saying that for days now. You can believe it. We’re together. We’re free of my mother. Of all of it.”

“I know. But every time I wake up, I think I’m in that awful bed at the trailer smelling stale beer and rot. It’s…This is still like a dream I don’t want to wake up from.”

“Maybe tomorrow that will change and you will want to wake up. You aren’t in that trailer and you aren’t in Olivia’s apartment. You’re here with me.”

“I’m going to miss Olivia. She…she is the person I want to be, you know? Smart. Caring. Passionate.”

Amber kissed Jasmine fondly, hovering in front of her mouth. “You are already those things. But I agree. We both owe Olivia so much.”

“We do. She’s like the mother I never had.”

“Me, too,” Amber sighed. “She’s taught me to trust again.”

Jasmine cuddled closer and sighed. “I really am here, though, aren’t I?”

“Yes. You most definitely are.” Amber laughed, embarrassed. “And it’s not like the last time I saw you here.”

“Let that go, please! I understand. Stop beating yourself up about it. Your mom was an evil genius. I’d have been fooled, too. I mean, she knew exactly what clothes I owned, so getting duplicates was smart. And then, with all the AI image stuff, putting my face on that girl was easy.”

“You wouldn’t have been fooled. You would have known it wasn’t me in those pictures.”

Now Jasmine laughed. “Well, I will say one thing. That girl’s boobs are way bigger than mine, so yeah. Maybe.”

Amber smiled slyly. “I don’t know about that. You looked pretty filled out in that bikini earlier. I think I need to see more so I can decide.” She took Jasmine’s hand and they sauntered slowly up the stairs to a guest bedroom. Amber couldn’t bear to go into her old room and would never set foot in her mother’s.

They undressed and got under the covers of the massive king bed and began kissing. As the heat increased, Jasmine stopped and put her hand on Amber’s. “Are you sure? The last time we were here you didn’t want to…”

“I’m not Andrew any more. He’s my past. My future is as Amber. My future is with you. But are you saying you don’t want to go further? We can wait till you are completely Jasmine. We’ve got our entire lives ahead of us and my father’s fortune, to boot.”

“Yeah, about that. I still can’t believe your mom did all this to you just for your inheritance. I mean, come on!”

Amber laughed. “Yep. My father thought he was pulling it over on her by changing his will. Thought he’d get the last word by leaving it all to his son. But I guess I’m the one who paid the price.”

“That’s not how I see it. If your parents hadn’t been such awful people, we’d not be lying here together.”

Amber sighed. “You’re right. If I’d known at age twelve I’d end up here with you, I’d have gladly become Amber. You are worth it all. I’m serious. You are worth any price.”

“That’s sweet. And I believe you. From that moment in the cafeteria when our eyes met, I knew…well, I felt. But I’m not complete. I don’t want to be Jeremy with you. I don’t want to…you know. And I didn’t think you wanted me that way, either. I hate that part of me and I hate it gets so excited around you.”

Amber remembered a similar conversation back when she still thought there was a chance she’d be Andrew again. Now things were sort of reversed. She asked herself if any of that mattered to her now. And as she looked down at the beautiful girl in her arms, she knew the answer. Amber stroked Jasmine’s face. “It’s not Jeremy down there, and what it does is an expression of how you feel about me.”

Jasmine smiled. “Are you sure? Are you sure you’re okay with going further?” Even as she said this, she could feel Amber’s fingers on her. “Ooh. Okay. Yeah.”

“Oh, yes. I am sure. I want you to be complete, too. But this extra part of Jasmine is just fine with me for now. Let her play before she goes away for good. Is that okay with you?”

Jasmine kissed Amber’s neck, her breathing coming in rasps. “Yesss. As long as you think of it as me and not Jeremy. I want to go as far as you’ll let me.”

“I’ve had to use simulated ‘Jeremys’ a lot since my surgery, and it might be nice to feel the real thing. But I’m going to think of it as ‘Little Miss Jasmine’.”

“I think she would like that. In fact, I can feel she is already quite excited.”

==========================================================

The next morning came and Jasmine opened her eyes not to the fear that she was in that old putrid trailer, but to the sweet lavender-scented reality that she was going to be happy. But she awoke alone. Amber was not there.

She called to her. “Hey. Where are you?”

There was no response. Instead, Jasmine heard something small land on the hardwood floor outside the bedroom. It clattered past the door, out of sight.

“What are you doing, Amber?”

No answer.

Jasmine rose and pulled on one of Amber’s robes and stepped out into the hallway. Lying on the floor was a familiar sight; a pill bottle. An estrogen pill bottle. She picked it up and shook it. The sound was strange.

Amber spoke from behind her. “Open it.”

Jasmine turned to see Amber standing there looking like a dream. She’d already had a shower and was dressed in a beautiful summer dress. Her makeup was done to perfection, and she simply took Jasmine’s breath away. Her enhanced breasts heaved, and she took a step toward Jasmine. “Open it.” Amber motioned toward the bottle.

Jasmine unscrewed the top and looked inside. Something shiny met her eyes. She poured out what was there. It was a ring. A diamond ring.

Amber moved closer, saying, “That’s the same pill bottle. That’s the bottle that brought us together that day in the cafeteria. I kept it. Something told me to. And now I want what was inside today to bring us together forever.”

Jasmine was speechless, but found her voice. “It’s not fair! You look wonderful and I’m a mess! You could have at least waited till I got dressed!”

“I was going to do this tonight. But I woke up early this morning and watched you sleeping. The smile that played across your face just, I don’t know, was just too beautiful to pass up. You are beautiful always. You were beautiful that day in the cafeteria. Beautiful that day in the hall when you approached me with the nail polish. Beautiful in the image you uploaded. Even beautiful that day at Starbucks with all the bruises and that black eye. All I see is beauty when I look at you.” She looked deep into Jasmine’s eyes. “I love you.”

Jasmine felt dizzy. This was a dream. This couldn’t be her reality. She shook her head and closed her eyes as tears poured from them. When she opened them again, Amber was still there, now kneeling in front of her and reaching for her hand.

Amber took the ring and held it up, her voice choked. “Jasmine Joad, will you marry me?”

The first thought that came to Jasmine wasn’t the answer to the question. It was something fundamental to who she was. Through her tears of joy, she asked, “If you’re giving me a diamond, I guess that means I’m the girl? The bride. Right?”

Amber smiled. “Of course. You are the girl you were always meant to be. And, if you say ‘yes,’ you will be my girl forever.”

End