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Part 2

I still couldn't get over how cute Kale looked in that dress. All week I'd been thinking about him, adorned by the dainty lavender summer dress, with his white tights. Even the strappy sandals, he borrowed from Tiffany, looked adorable with his feet practically swimming in them. His makeup had been done perfectly by Melanie, and I couldn't shake his pristine image from my mind. How could it be, that I thought a boy in a dress looked cuter than an actual girl?

"Could you stop doing that please?"

I turned and looked into Tracy's hazel eyes. They weren't as pretty as Tiffany's, but they were still pretty. She had put her straight, red hair up into long pigtails. I honestly had a hard time deciphering the look she was going for, what with her too-large blue sweatshirt and loose-fit jeans, but she seemed to be comfortable in it. So I didn't bother to comment.

"Stop what?" I asked.

"Tapping your pencil," Tracy said, in a hushed, yet snippy, tone.

"Sorry," I said. "I didn't realize I was doing it."

"Well you are," Tracy said. "Please stop."

In the small amount of time I had known Tracy, she had never really been short with me. I let my pencil roll from my hand, and it settled in the crack of my science book. Something seemed definitely wrong with Tracy. Now I had to figure out what was really bugging her. I leaned forward until she looked at me again.

"What?" she asked.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "You seem upset."

"I don't wanna talk about it." Tracy turned her head away and stared at her book.

"Is it about your brother?" I asked.

"No," Tracy said, a bit defensively.

A moment of silence passed between us. I tried to think of anything else that might be bugging her, or at least causing her to act this way. Even though she said she didn't want to talk about it, I knew enough about girls at that point to know this was far from the truth. It really meant she didn't want to talk about it with me. Though I could understand her reasoning behind that notion, I still felt like I needed to help her somehow.

"Why would you think it was my brother?" Tracy asked.

"I just thought with what happened Tuesday…"

Tracy finally stopped to look at me. "Why would that be a problem?"

"I guess it's just my own paranoia," I said. "I'm so used to thinking it's a problem." I looked down at my open book. "Figured it might be a problem for other people."

"Well I hardly think one time constitutes it as a problem in any case," Tracy said. "Besides…" She turned back to look at her own book. "Even if he did it more, I'm comfortable with it."

"Really?"

"Yes," Tracy said. "The same goes for you too."

As much as it thrilled me to hear Tracy was comfortable being around my feminine side, it still didn't answer the nagging question pertaining to her present state. Like an idiot I continued to stare at her like I wouldn't look away until she answered. After several glances up at me, she finally gave in, and gave me the answer I was looking for. Yet for some reason, the answer wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped.

"I'm on my period," Tracy said in a harsh whisper. "Okay?"

"Oh…" My face felt like it had caught fire from an embarrassing blush. "I'm sorry…"

"Not like you caused it," Tracy said.

"No," I said. "I mean I'm sorry for bugging you about it."

"Ah," Tracy said. She turned to me. "At least it's something you'll never have to go through."

My mind started reeling as Tracy turned her face away. For the rest of class I focused on her sentiment. Sure, I would never have to go through something like a period, but I had my own cycle going. Rajan had me on two different medications. Both of them were administered to me at his office, and each carried me through the month. He made sure to alternate them, so they weren't given at the same time.

This all meant that every other week I had to see Rajan and get a shot in my backside. Then, apparently each following week, I would start having withdrawal symptoms from each shot. I knew it would never amount to what a girl went through every month, but the shots hurt and I felt awful after. They seldom made me physically sick, but I felt sore for a few days, and the constant ups and downs caused strains on my personal life. Every so often, I would feel a bit nauseous, and decline from eating.

"Remember," Mr. Jackson said, causing us all to look up at our teacher. "If you don't finish the questions at the end of the chapter, that'll be your homework for the weekend." He looked at the clock. "If you get them done before class ends, you can turn them in after the bell."

I glanced at the clock, and then at my unanswered questions. There were five to go with two minutes left in class. I couldn't possibly get them done, as I'd barely read the whole chapter. Instead I focused on another aspect of my weekend. It was Friday. Tonight I had to somehow be two people all at once.

Jason Coleman wanted me to meet him at the mall, and hook him up with Tracy somehow. Luckily Tracy already agreed to go to the mall, so half the battle of that had already been won. However, due to a mysterious letter put in Tiffany's art box on Tuesday, I also had to show up at the mall as my female alter ego. I left the outfit decisions to Tiffany, as it would be one less thing off of my mind.

Tiffany always managed to pick out the cutest outfits for me to wear. Though as a personal preference, she desired for me to always dress in the most feminine manner. I'm not saying she went to extremes with it, but she would always pick a skirt over jeans. Most of the time she would try to get me into a dress, but there were many occasions where it didn't seem at all practical.

Usually I couldn't wait to see what she picked. It surprised me most of the time, as she had slightly different tastes than I did. However, this time the selection process would be a bit different, and possibly a bit more difficult. She had to pick something I had in my closet, after only seeing my wardrobe a couple of times, as I wouldn't be able to go to her house before the mall. It would be interesting to see what she could pick out from memory.

The bell rang and snapped me into reality, though it didn't take me far away from my current thoughts. It only served to put me in a mindset to go to my next class. Through the uneventful walk to my next class, the same thoughts kept circling back to me. As much as I tried to escape them, or focus on something else, they just wouldn't go away. After a quick visit to my locker, I found myself sitting in English class waiting for the bell to ring.

Countless times I waffled back and forth on my decision to do what I did at the end of summer. Faced with the choice to go either way with my gender, I had chosen the male path. It seemed like the easiest choice when I weighed the pressure of my family and society against the other side of things. The bell rang. I looked up at my English teacher as she instructed us to open our books to some odd page. She waited a brief moment, and then she started to read a poem by Robert Frost.

I actually liked poetry. As the imagery of The Road Not Taken entered my head, I placed myself in those woods. I pictured myself standing where the two roads diverged. Like in the poem, I was one traveler who couldn't travel down both paths facing me. Why would this poem come now as I thought about the decision I had made? Could something, or someone, be reaching out to me in some way, on some level?

Both roads looked equally inviting. Yet, like in my own life, only one road seemed alluring enough to call out to me. The other road seemed more like a convenience. It would still be a good road to travel, but there wasn't anything special about it. If I chose the special path, it would be hard to go back to the other. Like in the poem, I doubted I ever would go back anyway.

"I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference."

My gaze dropped to my book. I stared at the poem for several minutes, while the end of it rang, in my teacher's voice, throughout my mind. She started asking questions, pulling the class into a discussion. I'd had too many discussions in my life, and for a brief amount of time I just wanted to cling to that moment. I wanted to cling to that poem, at the point where the two roads diverged. Why couldn't I stay there for awhile? Why did I have to choose so early?

The rest of class trickled by like water filling a tub one drop at a time. If there would be any kind of relief from the pace of the day, it wouldn't come with fourth period. Social studies seemed to reduce the drop of water filling the tub to half a drop. After those two hours, and a few bells later, I found myself in a semi-conscious daze at lunch. As much as I enjoyed the company of who I ate with, I started to get bored with the daily routine. I caught bits and pieces, as they came to me, of Tracy's conversation with Tiffany.

"And she's been sick the past few days," Tracy said. "So she probably won't be coming tonight."

"Who?" I asked, now somewhat interested in the conversation.

"Danielle," Tracy said. "Haven't you been listening?"

"Sorry…" I said. "I'm just thinking about something from English."

"We still want to do this tonight?" Tiffany asked.

"I'm up to it," Tracy said.

"You still up to it?" Tiffany asked, nudging me with her shoe on my leg.

"I think we better go through with it," I said.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," Tiffany said.

"We're going to be at the mall," I said. "With tons of people around."

"I'm not talking about that," Tiffany said. "I mean something could happen as a result of this." She leaned forward as if having a private conversation with me. "This could just be the start of someone wanting to abuse you."

"Well what can I do?" I asked.

"I don't know," Tiffany said. "I just have a bad feeling about it all."

"Well…" Tracy said. "There should be enough of us there to keep you safe for at least one night. Our sisters are going too." She gave me a concerned look. "Did you ask your brother to go?"

"He's hanging out with some of his jock buddies," I said. "Won't even drop me off at Tiffany's house."

"Well that sucks," Tiffany said. "We could've used a little time to get you ready. If you know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah," I said. I lowered my voice. "Any thoughts on my outfit?"

"See!" Tiffany said to Tracy. "I told you he'd secretly be excited about this."

"You were right," Tracy said.

"I'm not excited," I said. Both girls looked at me like I was the biggest liar on the planet. "Okay… I'm a little excited, but mostly anxious."

"I'd be a nervous wreck," Tracy said.

"We'll be okay," Tiffany said. "We'll get through this together." She gave me a half smile, and leaned forward. "I'll figure out your outfit and let you know in art class."

Tiffany reached out and patted my left hand. The rest of lunch went by in relative silence, which was unusual for us. It felt like Tiffany and I were embarking on our first potentially dangerous outing since I started cross-dressing. The more I thought about what I had to do that night, the more I wanted to get it over with. If someone was going to be tormenting me about dressing as a girl, I wanted to know who, and what better way than to drag them out of hiding at the mall.

"So you're definitely in tonight?" I asked Tracy.

"Wouldn't miss it," Tracy said as the bell rang.

"We should get there around seven," Tiffany said.

"Okay," Tracy said. "We'll meet at the fountain in the food court."

"See you there," I said, picking up my nearly empty tray.

After my routine kiss with Tiffany, we walked to put our trays away at the front of the cafeteria. In a break from the ordinary, Tiffany parted company with me there. We usually walked back to class together, but she claimed she had to get something from her locker. I gave her another quick peck on the lips and she took off in the other direction. So I decided to go a different path myself.

I had almost made it out of the bathroom, after finishing my business and washing my hands. Instead I found myself face-to-face with Jason. His lips curled into a menacing smile as he blocked my exit. With each step he took forward, I took one step back. He didn't look at all ticked off, but he didn't look extremely happy either. His left hand clapped down on my right shoulder.

"I have had one crappy day," Jason said. "Please tell me you have some good news about tonight."

"I do actually," I said.

"Well spill it!"

"Tracy is definitely going to the mall tonight," I said. "She's meeting the other girls near the fountain at seven."

"You're going right?" Jason asked, squeezing my shoulder a bit.

"I'll try," I said. "It depends if I can get a ride."

"Damn it B!" Jason said. "I need you there." He pulled his hand from my shoulder and walked past me. "I'm scared I'll blow it."

I turned and looked at Jason. He stood before the mirror, hunched over with his hands on the sink. It was the first time I ever saw him out of his normal "tough bully" character. I had never seen him drop his guard like that before, and it put me in an awkward position. He never really struck me as the type of person that needed consoling. Even if he did at that moment, I didn't honestly want to be the person to reach out to him.

"Look…" I said. "Just be nice to her. You won't blow anything."

"Of course I'll be nice to her," Jason said. "I just don't know how to act around girls."

"She likes nice guys," I said. "Don't try to be all tough around her. She hates that."

Jason looked at me in the mirror. "How the hell do you know so much about them?"

"I'm nice to them," I said, "and I listen. They open up to me. That's all."

"You sure you aren't one?" Jason said, with a subtle laugh.

"I'm pretty sure I'm not," I said.

Jason raised his right eyebrow. "Pretty sure?"

"Okay," I said. "Positively sure. You happy?"

"No," Jason said. "Not really…" He looked down at the sink. "I'm just messin' with you, but it would be a lot easier if girls were like guys." He turned the sink on, and looked back at me in the mirror. "I have no problem talking to guys."

"For some reason I find it easier to talk to girls," I said.

"And that's why they like you," Jason said. "I guess if I don't see you tonight, I'll see you when I see you."

"Just relax tonight," I said. "She's really not that hard to talk to."

"You better get back to homeroom," Jason said, eyeing me in the mirror. "And hey! Don't tell anyone about this."

"Not a word," I said.

I waited until Jason dropped his gaze to the sink, and then I made my way out of the bathroom. The next few hours passed as slow as the first five. Even art glass didn't cheer me up like I thought it would. We ended up spending the whole hour taking pictures for our next project. The small amount of time I got to talk to Tiffany, consisted of us reading another letter she found in her art box.

It was a rather simple letter. Basically the mystery person told us to meet them at the mall at seven. Unfortunately they asked us to meet them at the fountain where everyone else would gather. I kept the plans about Jason meeting Tracy to myself, but I knew I had to tell at least Tracy before something bad happened. This kept my mind preoccupied through the rest of the school day, as well as the bus ride home.

"Hey!" I shouted, as I came in the front door of my house. "I'm home." I could hear the television going in the front room, but nobody responded to me. "Anyone home?"

I eased the front door closed, and locked it. As I started up the stairs, I hefted my school bag up on my shoulder. I knew Justin wouldn't be home when I got there. On Friday he usually had a short practice with the junior varsity. Then he sometimes stuck around for the varsity game, if it was a home game. Most of the time he'd goof around after practice so he didn't have to come straight home.

My mother had started getting involved with her job, and had been promoted to a high-end assistant at her marketing company. This sometimes left the house quite empty on the nights Tom worked late. Sometimes it even had us fending for ourselves to fix dinner. In the process I had learned to cook a little bit, and I honestly didn't mind doing it. Tom cooked other nights, if he would get home in time. I didn't smell anything cooking though.

"Hello?" I shouted.

As I reached the middle of the staircase, the kitchen door flew open at the top of the stairs. Tom soon filled the doorway. His faded blue jeans were decorated with long streaks of oil and grease, while his plain white t-shirt looked almost tan in spots. It looked like he had one filthy day of cleaning semi trucks. He held his hand over the bottom of the phone, which he had pressed up against his ear. The look in his eyes sat somewhere between impatient and perturbed.

"I'm on the phone," Tom said.

"Sorry," I said, quietly. "I just wanted to see if anyone was home."

Tom gave me a concerned look. "Hey Robert," he said, into the phone. "Could you hold on for a minute?" A slight pause came as he listened to the other end. "Yeah. One of the kids just got home. I need to tell him something."

Tom held the phone down to his side. The look of concern on his face contorted into a pleasant smile. In my eyes, Tom had made great strides to reach out to me more. He tried to be more patient and understanding. It really did show in his demeanor, but he still had a bit of his old ways coursing through his veins. Sometimes he got really abrupt with me during our more heated moments.

"I got something for you," Tom said.

I could feel my eyes filling with some excitement. "What?"

"It's not much," Tom said. "I put it on your dresser."

I rushed up the remaining stairs. "What is it?"

"Go see!" Tom said.

He was smiling as I turned to hurry down the hallway. As I neared my door, I could hear him going back to his conversation with Robert. If it was Robert from his work, I had only met him one time. He was a big red-faced burly guy from what I could recall, with a bristly black beard and short black hair. I remembered him bossing people around, telling them to clean the trucks faster, but he wasn't Tom's boss. He may have even worked under Tom.

As I stepped into my room, my eyes immediately went to my dresser. My school bag slipped from my shoulder and settled with a thud on the floor. I stepped over to the dresser, as if I were walking toward a dark cave; unsure of what would be there. Though unlike the dark cave, I saw what was there on my dresser. Plain as day, sat a small white book, with a B inscribed on the cover in elaborate gold detail. I picked it up with both hands, as Tom stepped into the doorway.

"A diary?" I asked.

"Diary. Journal. Whatever you wanna call it," Tom said. "I thought it would be a nice way for you to collect your thoughts." He leaned against the doorframe, a beer bottle dangling from his right hand.

"Thank you," I said.

"Eh," Tom said, with a shrug. "I figured you're going through a tough time." He brought the bottle up to his lips to take a swig from it. "Maybe," he said, pulling the bottle way. "If you could write down what you're feeling… you know… as a way to get it all out there, it might help you."

I opened the book, and silently thumbed through the blank pages. "I like it," I said, turning to look at Tom. "It was a nice thought."

"Well…" Tom said, breaking our gaze. "I'm gonna get dinner going. Why don't you get cleaned up and join me in the kitchen?"

I nodded quietly, shutting the book and holding it to my chest. Aside from all of the basics, like food, shelter and such, this was the nicest thing Tom had bought for me in a long time. I never expected much, knowing that our family struggled most of the time, but Tom usually just sucked at picking out gifts. He returned my nod, only in a firmer, more macho form. Then he stepped out of my doorway, and disappeared down the hall. I stood there for a moment, blinking, in a startled daze.

"Are you going out tonight?" Tom asked, as I walked into the kitchen.

"Yes," I said. "We're all meeting at the mall around seven."

"What do you kids even do there?"

"Just hang out," I said. "Talk and stuff."

"Talk?" Tom shook his head. "I would think you'd get tired of talking." He went back to mixing something in a bowl. "You need a ride?"

"Kate's picking me up," I said.

"Kate?"

"Tiffany's older sister," I said.

"Oh right," Tom said. "The girl Justin likes."

"Justin likes too many girls," I said.

Tom looked back at me and chuckled. "Well, he is a teenage boy." He went back to mixing. "It's normal."

"I guess so," I said. "What are you making?"

"Twice baked potatoes," Tom said. "Thought I'd grill some steaks and have a nice meal for a change."

"Where did you learn how to cook?" I asked.

Tom laughed. "I know I talk big about it being a woman's job and all, but believe it or not, my father taught me how to cook." He turned and smiled at me. "It really is a valuable thing for anyone to learn." He turned his attention back to mixing. "Teaches them how to fend for themselves. Incase one day they find themselves living on their own… you know… incase their wife decides to leave them."

I could nearly taste the venom attached to his last statement. He appeared to gain a look of pain and remorse for a brief moment. Then he went back to cooking, adding a bit more vigor to it, like he was mad at the food. It seemed to piss him off thinking about it, and I don't know why I pressed the issue. I guess curiosity got the better of me.

"You were married before mom?" I asked.

"Eh," Tom said. "It's all old history, but yeah. My first wife left after…"

"After what?" I asked, as I watched Tom turn to look busy in the refrigerator.

"How's school Bailey?" Tom asked.

"Fine," I said. "What happened? Why did your first wife leave?"

"I don't think now's the right time to talk about it," Tom said. He turned and faced me. "Maybe when you're a bit older."

A small silence satiated the room. Tom and I stared at each other in an awkward standoff. I could tell there seemed to be some obvious pain in this current line of discussion. Deep down, beneath the layers of his tough exterior, Tom had some strong feelings held up inside of him. I decided not to push the issue anymore tonight, as we were acting civil toward each other lately. There really wasn't any need to piss him off.

"I should probably get ready for tonight," I said, appearing to wince myself away from the conversation.

"Um, yeah," Tom said. "You go ahead. I'll finish dinner. We can eat before you leave."

I wanted to leave the room on a good note. "Thanks again for the diary," I said, as I started to leave the kitchen.

"No problem," Tom said. "Oh!" He waited until I brought my focus back to him. "Girl or boy tonight?"

"Girl," I said, looking at the floor in a bit of embarrassment. I expected to get a small riot act from him about continuing to dress like a girl.

"Curfew is ten then," Tom said, before turning back to his cooking. His flippant attitude stunned me for a moment.

"Okay," I said, before leaving the kitchen.

I never argued with my mother or Tom about curfew. In all honesty, the times they set were pretty fair. Justin and I both had a nine o'clock curfew on weekdays, and he got to stay out until midnight on weekends; usually because of late after-game parties. I had to be home by eleven if I was out as a boy, or sometimes a bit later if out with Justin, and ten if I chose to be a girl. It really wasn't much of a problem, as most of the girls I ran around with had to be home by then, and I usually came home well before my curfew. I also knew to call if I would be late.

Once I had freshened up, and put on my attire for the evening, I returned to the kitchen. My mother still wasn't home, and my brother apparently went to do something with Nathan. So I shared a nice somewhat quiet meal with Tom. I really wanted to ask him about his first wife, but I refrained and stuck to less colorful chitchat. It was pretty nice not having a fight at the table for once.

This didn't keep Tom from being a bit put out at not having my mother there for dinner, but he seemed even more pissed that Justin blew it off. I could tell he put a lot of effort into the meal, and it all tasted like a professional chef had made it. He grumbled that he would cook my mother's later, but said my brother could "cook his own damn steak" in his own words. Near the end of dinner, Tom even complimented me for being courteous enough to stay.

By the time I crawled into the backseat of Kate's Accord, I felt at ease about tonight's little adventure. It was actually the pleasant atmosphere at home that helped the most. All week I had been dreading this evening. Although I still felt anxious about what would happen, I didn't have this overwhelming empty feeling in the pit of my stomach anymore. As we drew closer to the mall, however, the empty feeling started to fester again. After finding a parking spot, Tiffany took up my hand as we followed Kate into the crowded mall.

It would have been so much easier if we had all stuck together that night at the mall. Instead, the older girls went off to do their own thing. I assumed they only wanted to be away from us. Megan and Tawny ran off as well, probably to slip into a dark area where they could be alone. Rachel and Vanessa apparently were late, or a no show, and Danielle we knew was sick.

This left only Tiffany, Tracy and I at the fountain. I sat between the two of them on the edge, both literally and physically. Not even the rushing of the fountain water calmed me down. My legs were neatly crossed in a ladylike manner, with my hands folded gently in my lap. Each time I switched legs, the gentle friction of my nylon-clad legs rubbing against each other reminded me of my vulnerability.

As I switched my legs again, I subconsciously smoothed my knee length skirt. Normally I wouldn't have worn it, but Tiffany reminded me of the letter telling us to both wear something pretty. To Tiffany this meant a dress or skirt. So in line with her suggestions, I'd picked out a black skirt from my closet. It was a bit form-fitting, but I liked how the crisp accordion pleats allowed it to open a bit more for extra movement.

My right foot started to bob up and down, causing me to look at my shoes. I could forget making a run for it. Out of concern for keeping appearances up, I went with my black Oxfords. They were absolutely adorable, and definitely pretty and feminine. The only problem happened to be the two and a half inch tapered heels on them. While I hadn't taken Melanie and Kate up on their offer to teach me how to be more girly, I did secretly practice at home; walking among other things. I had grown quite accustomed to walking in higher heels, but not so much running in them.

We didn't sit at the most obscure place either. With the hustle and bustle of the food court in full Friday night swing, many people would sit and gaze at the fountain. It seemed to be a tranquil escape from the insanity of screaming kids and the talking people surrounding it. For me it wasn't so tranquil. Instead I felt like I sat on display, and everyone looked toward me.

Anyone taking a gander at the fountain could be the person who wrote that letter, or at least anyone around my age. The closer it got to seven o'clock, the more my body filled with anxiety. I secretly hoped my mystery stalker would arrive early. Then at least we could pull him away from the fountain before Jason showed up to meet Tracy. Two friends weren't enough to calm my nerves. I didn't feel safe.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"You really need to get a watch," Tiffany said, flipping her wrist up. "It's ten 'til."

"I should've told Jason to meet you somewhere else," I said to Tracy. "If he sees me here with you two, he's going to know."

"I'm kinda glad you told me," Tracy said. "At least I know to expect him."

"Well don't act like you do," I said.

"Don't worry," Tracy said. "I know how to play it."

"Easy for you to say," I mumbled.

"You could sit away from us," Tiffany said, "and come over if our mystery guy shows up."

"No," I said. "He told us to sit together at the fountain."

Tiffany slid her arm around mine. With her other hand she started to rub the sleeve of my pink sweater. She couldn't get enough of the soft velour. I hoped the soft pink would be pretty enough for this person. As an extra splash of femininity, I wore a lacy white camisole beneath the plunging V neckline. If that didn't do it, I had painted my fingernails a soft carnation pink, to match the sweater, and added perfume to the mix.

Kate and Tiffany had come into my house for a few minutes before we left. After Tom had greeted them, and disappeared like we all had the plague, the two girls took me into the bathroom for some finishing touches. Kate gave me a quick feminine hairstyle, crammed with bouncy curls produced from my mother's curling iron. She claimed I had to learn how to style it myself, but happily finished my look with some subtle makeup; including some kissable pink lipstick and gloss.

The thing that really puzzled me, is why our mystery letter writer got Tiffany more involved in the matter. From his original letter, I assumed he only wanted me to come and dress pretty. The second letter clearly wanted Tiffany to do the same, and gave specifics on where and when to meet. Not only that, but Tiffany had happily agreed. She usually hated being told how to dress, but now she sat next to me with all the frills I had applied to myself.

I had to admit, Tiffany did look adorable. She wore a plum colored long sleeve turtleneck dress. The skirt of the dress came down to within two inches of her knees, while the top of the dress looked extremely form fitting. Her bra underneath barely showed any visible signs that it was there.

The rest of Tiffany's outfit consisted of tan hose, a bit darker than my own, and a pair of plum colored three inch heel pumps. She hardly ever wore heels outside of extremely special occasions. Perhaps she thought this was a special occasion. Either that, or she thought she had no choice other than to do it for this mystery guy. I hoped he didn't aim to hurt Tiffany in this.

"You sure this isn't one of your neighbors playing a joke on us?" Tiffany asked Tracy, while leaning across me.

"None of my neighbors are close to our age," Tracy said, "and not one of them is in junior high. How could they have put it in your box at school?"

"I'm starting to get a bit worried," Tiffany said. "Not only about who it is, but now I'm starting to think he'll make us sit here until Jason shows up."

"What if it is Jason?" I asked, now trying to make some kind of connection.

"He wouldn't have known about the pool party," Tiffany said. "Besides, he's interested in Tracy. Why would he try to blackmail her friends?"

"To weasel her into being his girlfriend," I said. "That is what bullies do you know."

"I don't think it's him," Tiffany said.

"Maybe I should move over to the other side of the fountain just incase," Tracy said.

"You sure?" Tiffany asked. "I don't want you to be alone."

"I'll be within yelling distance," Tracy said. "I'll meet you two back here around nine if we get split up. Hopefully your stalker will untie you by then."

"Not funny," Tiffany said, sourly.

"Jason's going to be so pissed that I didn't show up," I said.

"Technically you did," Tiffany said.

"That's true," I said.

"Say you got grounded or something," Tracy said, standing up from the fountain. A look of concern filled her slightly chubby face. "I was just teasing before, but you two be careful."

"Good luck with Jason," Tiffany said, seemingly calm now.

I watched Tracy walk around the fountain until she disappeared around the big square in the center. Tracy had fixed her hair, from earlier today, into wavy strands held up on one side with a yellow ribbon. She also had exchanged her sweatshirt for a nice yellow top, but she kept the jeans and tennis shoes. I guess she wanted to find a nice balance of comfort and style. It felt kind of wrong dragging her into meeting Jason, especially when I knew she was on her period. I'm sure she felt like crap at the moment.

"Is there anyone who would've had a brother around our age?" I asked. "Maybe someone came with their parents to pick another girl up, and they saw us."

"That's a possibility," Tiffany said. "I don't know everyone who was there though."

"I didn't know anyone there, except you and Kate."

"Not many of Kate's close friends were there," Tiffany said. "Just Rebecca and Lynne."

"Lynne was there?"

"Yes," Tiffany said. "You probably weren't looking for her though."

"That's true," I said. "I didn't know her then."

"What if we're over thinking this?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well…" Tiffany said. "Vanessa was the one who thought it was a guy, but the letter never said. She just assumed it was a guy, because they had crappy handwriting."

"You think it's a girl with crappy handwriting?" I asked.

"It would make more sense," Tiffany said. "Given that they literally saw us there at the pool party."

"But who?" I asked.

"The only other girl I knew at the party, besides Tracy, was…"

Tiffany's words trailed off as she stared at someone across the mall. I followed her gaze and my eyes came across a young girl with short brunette hair styled in a strict and preppy crop cut. Her preppy style carried right down to her apparel. With a navy blue, gray and white argyle sweater, over a white collared shirt, and a tan pencil skirt extending to her knees, she looked like the poster child for the Back Street Boys.

The young girl glided with ease, through the food court, in her navy blue pumps. They had to have at least a three inch heel, maybe more, as her legs appeared to be well defined with each step she took. Every step she took into the light, made her sheer pantyhose glisten. I had never seen anyone around our age with such refinement. She walked right up to us, and pulled her square glasses from her turquoise eyes.

"Jillian Wilcox," Tiffany said, looking up into the girl's eyes.

"I take it you got my letter," Jillian said, her smug smile unwavering.

"We're here aren't we?" Tiffany asked.

Jillian had a cuteness to her face unlike any I'd ever seen. I surely would've remembered her from the pool party if we had met. She had a sort of bubbly roundness to her face, which made her appear youthful and fun, but in her current demeanor made her look incredibly sexy. Her cheeks were round, along with her chin, but not chubby.

Jillian seemed to have the cutest mouth I'd ever seen, with the perfect amount of poutiness; and the cupid's bow, which I loved on girls. The color of Jillian's eyes took away the slight puffiness beneath them. I chalked this up to her wearing glasses. They were framed nicely though with her perfectly groomed eyebrows, which took on a wicked arch making her look more exotic. With her light olive complexion and cute button nose, I had a hard time taking my eyes off of her. She noticed this as well.

"I'm glad your friend could make it too," Jillian said, looking directly at me. "Will be more fun with the both of you."

"What will?" I asked, a bit nervously.

"You both look adorable," Jillian said, looking us both over.

"Are you going to tell us what this is about?" Tiffany asked.

Jillian just held her hand up and with her index finger she coaxed us to follow her. Tiffany and I both stood, her arm still wrapped around mine. As we followed Jillian back through the food court, I could see Jason coming down an escalator from another point in the mall. I felt somewhat relieved to be leaving the area before he got there. However, I wasn't so sure about going with this girl either.

"I wasn't exactly sure why my sister suggested you two," Jillian said, turning to face us once we stepped onto an escalator. "Now I get it though." She looked us both up and down. "You're about the same size."

"What does your sister have to do with it?" Tiffany asked.

"She works at 'Tweens, a store which targets kids around our age group," Jillian said. "Every so often they have girls our age model in their store windows for a couple of hours at a time." She smiled. "My sister picked you two out at the pool party."

"Wait a minute," I said. "I don't think I'm interested in that."

"Oh come on!" Jillian said. Her eyes filled with excitement. "Every girl wants to be a model at least once in their lifetime." She looked in my eyes. "Besides, you have the look for it."

"What do we get out of it?" Tiffany asked, quickly changing the subject. "Do we get paid?"

"You get to keep anything you model," Jillian said. "It's not the most expensive stuff in the world, but nice clothes to have. Shoes too, but you can't keep jewelry."

"I'm in!" Tiffany said, without even having to think about it.

"I thought so," Jillian said, turning back around. "It's pretty simple really. I've done it before, and all you do is try to hold a position for a few minutes."

"I'm still not sure," I said.

"What's the hang up?" Jillian said, turning to face me as we stepped off the escalator.

"I think you already know," I said.

"If it's about your little secret," Jillian said. "I just said that to get you two here, looking like you do." She smiled. "And you both look pretty. I wouldn't worry about your secret too much. 'Tweens is an equal opportunity employer."

"It's all I'm worried about," I said. "What if someone sees?"

Jillian stepped forward and lowered her voice. "Well it's not like you two are going to be all lesbian in front of people while you model."

"Wait…" Tiffany said, giggling a little. "That's what you think the big secret is?"

"Well yes," Jillian said. "After your little tryst in the shower…" She stopped herself from finishing. "What else would it be?"

Tiffany shook her head. "We thought --"

I pulled on the arm Tiffany had wrapped around mine. "What she means to say," I said, giving Tiffany a wide-eyed look. "Is that we're not lesbians. If that's what you thought." I turned to see Jillian with a confused look on her face.

"We're actually not," Tiffany said.

"We're both just a bit bi-curious," I said, picking up where Tiffany left off, and making it seem more like a cover.

Tiffany looked at me a bit surprised. "You know how rumors get started," she said, turning to face Jillian.

"Oh…" Jillian said. For the first time she appeared to hesitate on what to say next, but it didn't slow her down much. "In any case," she said. "Would you two be interested?"

"Come on!" Tiffany said, nudging me with her elbow. "It'll be fun!"

I glanced at Tiffany, and then back to Jillian. She looked like she would break into tears if I said no to her. Apparently she had a bit riding on this as well. I would feel bad if she got shorted somehow by failing to get us to go along with it. Still… she did sort of blackmail us into doing what she wanted, and it felt wrong letting her get away with it. I glanced back at Tiffany one more time, and saw she really wanted to do it. Like always, I couldn't deny her, and we would both get free clothes out of the deal.

"Okay," I said. "I'm in too."

"Great!" Jillian said. I thought she would leave the floor in a short leap, but she simply rocked up and down on her toes, like some excitable anime character. "I'll take you both to the store, and you can meet with Casey."

Jillian seemed cheerful now, beneath the sincere expression on her face. She turned on the balls of her feet, and started to walk. We quickly followed after her. Even over the roar of the Friday night mall crowd, I could still hear the clicking of our heels upon the floor. As I glanced around in an attempt to foresee anyone we would need to avoid, I caught Tiffany staring at Jillian's legs. Tiffany noticed me noticing her, and leaned her head toward me.

"She's cute," Tiffany said, in a whisper. "Don't you think?"

"I guess so," I replied, looking at Jillian. "In a bubbly librarian way."

"Just look at those legs," Tiffany whispered, "and her butt. They're amazing."

I honestly didn't see why Tiffany was still with me. Once I had found out she liked girls, it kind of opened up this rift between us. She obviously liked my girly side more than my boyish side, and her self-proclaimed bisexuality was merely self-denial. I tried to be supportive, but I knew she would eventually get tired of me once I hit that male point-of-no-return. She simply found girls more attractive.

"You really think so?" I asked.

"You don't?" Tiffany asked.

"If that's what you like," I said, "I say go for it."

"No way!" Tiffany said in a still hushed tone. "She'd never…"

I smiled inwardly. That little hint of doubt, Tiffany had, was the only thing that kept us together, in my opinion. At least for the time being, her shyness about her sexuality kept her comfortable with me. She already had an outlet to explore with, so she never actively sought another. Eventually she would overcome it, and maybe want to look for other outlets. I knew in my heart the next outlet would most likely be an actual girl to replace me.

We continued to walk past a few benches, and a booth selling sunglasses. I finally took notice of my surroundings, and could smell the mixed scents of the candle store nearby. About thirty or forty feet away, a sign reading 'Tweens shone down in bright pink and blue neon letters. Even though the sign appeared to appeal to both sexes, I noticed the store carried mainly apparel for young girls. Only about one sixth of the store seemed to be comprised of male attire.

Jillian walked us through racks and tables of clothes. I must have picked out about ten items I wanted to try on, just from our short walk. Even their obscure and small selection of shoes caught my attention. Jillian walked us right up to the cashier counter. We were greeted by a mildly attractive young woman. I took notice of her nametag and instantly pegged her as Jillian's sister, Casey.

She didn't look much like her sister, except for the brunette color of her hair. Casey's hair, however, fell in tight curly tresses down to her shoulders. It framed her heart-shaped face nicely, and most of my attention came to rest on her bright blue eyes. They weren't as intense as Jillian's eyes, but they were quite unique in their shade. I noticed she shared the cupid's bow upper lip like her sister's, but they weren't as pouty.

"This is Tiffany and…" Jillian turned to me. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I never caught your name."

"It's Bailey," I said, extending my right hand toward Casey.

Casey reached out and gently took my hand. "I told you they were a couple of pretty ones," she said, to her sister. "Turn." Casey held my hand up as I did an impromptu turn for her. "Nice." She held out her other hand to get Tiffany to turn as well. "I think I could get you both into a nine or ten in junior sizes." She looked us both over again. "Maybe even an eight."

"I'll leave you two here," Jillian said to us. "I have to get back out there and hand coupons out."

Tiffany and I watched Jillian pick up a stack of coupons and a clipboard. Then she casually walked out of the store and vanished into the crowd outside. I noticed Tiffany had a bit of a longing look on her face when she turned back to face me. It hurt me a little bit for her to be looking after someone else. Casey's voice shattered my reflections on the subject.

"Did my sister give you all the details on this?"

"Not exactly," Tiffany said. "She mentioned modeling and keeping clothes."

"Well…" Casey said. "That's part of it."

Casey stepped around the counter, and I took notice of her apparel. She wore the apparel of a smart business woman, in the simplest of forms. A dark grey pencil skirt contrasted her subtly off-white long sleeved blouse. Her legs, from what I saw from her ankles to the bottoms of her knees, looked very nice in her sheer black hose. She completed the outfit with black three inch pumps, silver necklace and bracelet, and a two inch wide black belt, with a large silver buckle, over her blouse.

"Every second Friday of each month, we have a promotional," Casey said. "We choose a few random girls or boys around your age to model our clothes in the display windows, or go around the mall handing out coupons for five to ten dollars off towards a purchase here." She coaxed us to follow her as she walked through the store. "Instead of paying the girls or boys to model, the store lets them keep the outfits they model. In the case of handing out coupons, they get some of their own." She turned sharply to face us. "There are a few limits."

"What are they?" Tiffany asked.

"You can't keep coats, jackets, jewelry, or any other accessories," Casey said. "You're limited to what the store supplies for you to wear, which are mostly sales items." She turned to walk a bit more. "None of the promotional items can be exchanged for store credit, and you can't go over one hundred dollars each." She stopped and turned back to us. "If at any point in time you act up while promoting our products, the deal is void, and you get nothing."

"That all sounds reasonable," I said.

"We don't get to choose what to model in though?" Tiffany asked.

"Unfortunately, you don't," Casey said. "We found too many kids take advantage of that, so we limited it to sales items at the store's discretion." She smiled at us. "Don't worry though. I won't make you wear anything ridiculous."

"I'm up to it," Tiffany said. "Free clothes are free clothes."

"We still have to work for them," I said, nudging her arm. "I'll go along though."

"Are you two friends?" Casey asked, while turning to look through a rack of sales items.

"Best friends," Tiffany said, wrapping her arms around me in a friendly hug.

"Well that's good," Casey said, smiling. "You two should have fun with this then."

"Oh, I'm sure we will," I said.

"I think we'll stick to skirts for you," Casey said, looking me over. "Jeans, and maybe a dress later for Tiffany."

"Bailey loves skirts," Tiffany said, giving me a wink.

"You read my mind," I said, taking a brown leather mini skirt from Casey. "This is on sale?"

"I know," Casey said. "Shocking isn't it?" She gave me a smile. "Just because you have to settle for sales items, doesn't mean we're going to be cheapskates."

"I really like it," I said, feeling the leather.

"Hope it fits then," Casey said. "There's a changing area in the back." She looked down at me. "Keep your hose and undergarments on, and I'll bring the rest back to you."

"Okay," I said, starting to walk back to the changing room.

"Oh," Casey said. "What size shoe do you wear sweetie?"

I almost blurted out my male size, but Tiffany interrupted me. "She wears the same as me," Tiffany said. "Size four and a half."

"Very good," Casey said to herself. "So probably a five boot." She started rummaging through a sales rack. "You two are going to be into women's sizes soon enough."

I wandered off and soon found myself alone in a changing room. The skirt was actually pretty nice for a sales item. I hoped beyond hope that it fit, more so than Casey's casual response to me saying I liked it. Gracefully I sat and removed my shoes. I couldn't wait to see what else she picked out for me to wear. I stood and started to remove my skirt.

Normally I didn't like anyone else picking my clothes out. Tiffany was usually the only one I'd allow to do so, but she knew what I liked most of the time. My mom had picked clothes out for me countless times, but she usually hit about fifty percent on what I liked. Nathan went one for one the only time he picked something for me to wear. I guess he paid attention to me after all. It would be a new experience to have someone else pick outfits out for me.

As I finished pulling on the leather skirt, I found it came to a perfectly snug fit. The hem fell a little below mid-thigh, which was alright with me. I had worn skirts shorter than this before, so it didn't mean much. I'm sure my mother would disagree if I wore something like it out in public. Right when I started to take my sweater off, I heard a knock on the stall door.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Are you decent?" Casey asked.

"Oh," I said. "I am."

Casey waited for me to open the door, and she stepped into the doorway. She put a top on the hook, and set down a large box on the bench. Then she stood and admired the skirt. When she motioned for me to turn around, I did as she desired. I felt her tug a bit at the hem of the skirt, pulling it down another inch or so, before she had me turn back around.

"It's meant to be worn lower," Casey said. "Below the waist a bit." She stood up straight with her hands on her hips. "If you give me your clothes, I can put them in the back where they'll be safe."

"Oh," I said, a bit hesitantly. "No problem…"

I shook a bit, as I reached for the bottom of my sweater. After a short breath, and figuring it was just like undressing in front of Kate and Melanie, I pulled the sweater off over my head. As I brought it down, starting to fidget with the sleeves, I noticed Casey looking me over. She seemed to be admiring something, but I didn't know what until she spoke.

"Cute cami."

"Thanks," I said, noticeably blushing.

"Why don't you keep that on?" Casey asked, "and I'll go get you a different top." She took my sweater and skirt. "I think it'll look better." She waited for me to hand her my shoes. "Cute shoes too!"

"Thanks," I said, still blushing.

"I'll be right back."

With that, Casey was gone. I shut the door to the stall, and turned to the box on the bench. It was rather large, and I knew it had to be boots. Casey had even mentioned boots. I peeled the box top off and stared amorously at the contents. Therein sat a pair of knee high brown leather boots, nearly the same color as my skirt. They had a rounded toe and about a three inch stacked heel.

Before I could even act upon putting them on, Casey came back to my door and knocked. She didn't wait for an answer this time, and just opened the door. In one hand she had a pair of long white knit socks. While in her other hand she held a burgundy long sleeved top. I took notice of what the top had to offer, or rather what it lacked, as it was a crop top with only two buttons on the front to hold the plunging V neckline closed.

"Cute huh?" Casey asked.

I nodded as she hung the top up on the hook. She handed me the socks, and smiled as she exited the stall again. I waited for the door to close all the way, before I undid the miniscule packaging on the socks. Once I had them unwrapped and off of the little plastic hangers, I put them on one at a time. They came all the way up past my knees, and touched the hem of my skirt.

"What's the point of keeping the hose on with these things?" I muttered to myself.

The socks were wool, but felt soft, and though a bit warm, I still liked the bumpy texture of them. I admired them for a little while, before pulling my attention back to the boots. There honestly wasn't much that could keep me away from trying on new footwear. I loved pretty much anything to do with female shoes and boots. A satisfied smile spread across my face as I pulled the left boot from the box.

After a few minutes of fighting laces, I finally had the boots tied snugly around my lower legs. They covered my calves up to within a few inches of my knees. I took a moment to admire how soft the leather felt, and they appeared to be extremely comfortable. When I had put them on, I noticed they were a size five and a half, but they fit perfectly over the hose and socks. Maybe my feet were growing, if nothing else seemed to be at the time.

"Everything okay in there?" Casey said, knocking gently on the door.

"Perfect," I said, reaching for the top.

I reached for the handle of the door, and it swung open to two sets of peering eyes. One set belonged to Casey, who held her hand over a smile as she saw my legs. As I fiddled around to get the top on, Casey stooped down and adjusted my socks. She pushed them down to where they appeared to be scrunched up around my knees. Then she stood up and nodded in satisfaction.

"I believe that's how they're wearing them on the east coast," Casey said.

By then my attention had already shifted to the other pair of eyes looking at me. They were the pretty hazel eyes of Tiffany. She looked extremely sexy in her outfit. Even at that age I knew what sex appeal was, and my girlfriend displayed it proudly. Tiffany wore a pair of straight cut jeans, which hugged her in all the right places. If Casey weren't there, I would have been trying to get my hands all over Tiffany.

She had been given a pair of strappy black sandals to wear, and the jeans came down over them. Only the bottom straps of the sandals showed, along with her cute toes. She had painted her nails the same color as the plum dress she wore to the mall. The heel on her shoes had to be the same height as my boots, as we stood almost even. Usually I could tell when one of us had higher heels than the other, though Tiffany always had an inch on me.

Apparently Casey had liked the look of Tiffany's dress, as she used a bit of the same style in her selection. She had Tiffany wear a bright red, skin tight turtleneck top, with three quarter sleeves and cropped to show her navel. Over that top, she had a white vest type jacket. It came down past the red top, but with it open, her navel was still proudly on display. I started to wonder if maybe we were dressed a little beyond our age, when Casey broke the silence.

"Okay! Here's how this works," Casey said. "Sometimes we put two to three models in one window, but tonight I think we'll put Tiffany in one window, and Bailey in the other."

I cringed when it finally dawned on me where we'd be. When she had said display window, she meant the ones at the front of the store. Hundreds of people would walk by tonight, looking in on us modeling 'Tweens' clothes. If anyone recognized me, my life would be over. At least we wouldn't be out in the mall handing off coupons. Casey continued to explain the arrangement to us.

"I'll give each of you a pose every ten minutes," Casey said. "The poses won't be that complicated, and should be fairly easy to hold for ten minutes." She looked us both over. "Don't strain yourself to keep the poses, but try to stay as still as possible. I know it won't be perfect, but pretend you're both mannequins." She waved us to follow her to the front of the store. "After three poses, each ten minutes long, I'll give you a short break to change outfits, and then you'll go another thirty minutes."

"I think we can handle that," Tiffany said.

"It's not really hard," Casey said. "Have fun with it, but I remind you again… don't do anything to tarnish the 'Tween name, or the products."

"We wouldn't think of such a thing," I said.

"I'm glad to hear that," Casey said. "We'll do two of these shifts. So you should both be out of here before nine." She looked back at us. "Should give you some time to run around the mall before everything closes." She pointed to the phone. "If you need to call your ride or your parents to tell them, just dial one first."

"I'm sure our ride will probably walk by us at some point," Tiffany said. "She's in the mall somewhere."

"Okay, good," Casey said. "Any questions?"

We both shook our heads, and Casey studied us for a moment. She then went on to give us our first poses. Tiffany was asked to stand with her legs slightly apart, and her arms bent at the elbows behind her. Casey instructed her to put her hands palm out in the back pockets of her jeans, and keep her chin up. I had to admit, it was pretty simple, and basically made the clothes the focus.

My pose wasn't all that complicated either. Casey had me stand with my legs slightly apart, with my right fist on my waist. She had me put my other hand up, holding the button of the top, like I had just unbuttoned it. It wasn't too bad, and I could actually hold onto the shirt a bit if I wanted to rest my dangling arm. I also had to keep my chin up, but she had me look slightly to the right. Satisfied at the poses, Casey had us go to our respective windows.

It actually wasn't too hard to stay still either. Though we had a few people stop and try to get us to move, more than that simply walked by without notice. Some kids, younger than us, had to stop and see if we were real or fake. I stuck my tongue out at one little girl, and she broke into a huge smile. Her mother dragged her away, as the little girl tugged at her; begging her to look back at me.

Apparently time went faster than I thought, as Casey stepped into the window on Tiffany's side to give her a new pose. The new pose for Tiffany didn't have much variance. Casey had her turn her feet out more, while keeping her left hand in her back pocket. The only noticeable change happened to be her other arm. She was instructed to put her arm straight out to the side, and bend her elbow so her hand came back to her head. Then Casey had her turn her head to the right, and look down a bit.

My pose also changed very slightly. Casey came over, and the first thing she did was ask me to turn my left foot completely out to the side. Then she kicked the back of my heel gently until my knee was slightly bent to compensate. I noticed this rolled my hip out more on my right side, raising my bottom a bit. For some reason she found it easier to just move me, than instruct me.

Casey pulled my left arm down, and across my belly. She pulled a bit of my camisole up and had me hold it between my thumb and first two fingers. Then she played with my hand a bit until my pinky was sticking straight out. She then rearranged my other arm to where it was straight down at my side, with my elbow bent to where my hand reached up to my face. Then she had me look straight ahead, but slightly tilt my cheek onto the back of my hand.

"Perfect!" Casey said. "You two are naturals. With you two modeling and my sister handing out coupons, I bet our foot traffic shoots up about seventy five percent tonight."

"I'm actually enjoying this," I said.

"Well I'm glad!" Casey said. "If you want, I can put your names in to do it again some time. Just leave your numbers with me before you leave."

"Really?"

"Sure!" Casey said. "You both are nice girls. I'd love to have you back."

A subtle smile spread across my face as Casey left the window. She actually thought we were both girls. Tiffany hadn't said a word to the contrary, as she knew this upset me. Jillian didn't know my real secret. Our secret to her was us being lesbians. If she knew my other secret she'd probably blow a gasket. She seemed like the type to really get upset over such things.

I had unknowingly drawn a bit of attention to myself with my smile. Several young boys, most probably older than me, stood to gawk. Apparently it was common knowledge, by now, that 'Tweens used real people to model for them on occasion. While I wasn't thrilled about drawing this much attention, I felt a bit of satisfaction in being pretty enough to cause boys to stop and stare.

I still didn't like boys, at least not in any regard to a relationship. Nathan happened to be the only one I ever got close to, and I didn't really want to get any closer than we had. For a brief moment I thought about Nathan. I thought about how he had touched me in the park. It felt good. I couldn't deny the feelings I had around him, but even then I had reservations about acting upon them.

A few of the boys, outside the window, started to wink and blow kisses at me. I saw Tiffany getting the same treatment at the other window. Even some of the girls got in on the act. They were obviously attempting to get us to do something wrong, so we'd lose our deal with the store. I decided to take it all in stride, and I could see Tiffany chose to ignore it. There were few things that could stand between her and clothes.

Eventually Casey walked out and politely asked the group of kids to move along. Several girls walked past her toward the store entrance. A couple of them paused to study my attire, and I saw one of them turn to Casey to inquire about it. Casey waved them into the store, and they all followed her. I couldn't help but think my modeling these clothes got a girl interested enough to buy them.

I found a bit more strength in me to stay as still as possible. Maybe if I drew in some more people, Casey might let me out of here with a little more clothing. Why that was important to me at the time, I'll never know. It was probably one of those things I would have to think long and hard about later, but right now I was having fun. A few minutes later, the girls walked out of the store. They had a few bags from 'Tweens spread out amongst them. Casey came into my window shortly after.

"Whatever you did," Casey said, "keep it up. That girl just bought a copy of the entire outfit you have on."

"Wow! Really?" I asked.

"Yes," Casey said. "Boots and all! Daddy's credit cards are always welcome here." She gave me a measured look. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind your last pose being a bit more fetching."

"I'm your mannequin," I said.

Casey smiled at me. She had me stand about a foot away from the concrete wall, on the side without a window, but closer to the window. Then she pulled the crop top down off of my shoulders, to where it hung loosely around my elbows. After this she had me lean back against the wall, with my legs angled out in front of me. She had me put both arms down with my palms flat against the wall.

Before I could get comfortable with that position, Casey had me pull my outside leg up, which happened to be my left leg. She had me bend it at the knee until my foot was flat against the wall, about level with my other knee. Then she put her hand under my chin to lift it a bit higher. I found myself looking more upward than straight out.

"Just like that," Casey said. "Try to keep your back curved, and only let your shoulder blades and butt touch the wall."

I followed her directions. She smiled and nodded at me. Then she messed with my hair a little bit, before adjusting the straps of my camisole.

"Think you can hold that?"

"I'm sure I can," I said.

"Good," Casey said. "I'll go work on your friend now."

I watched her disappear through the small door of my display window and reappear a moment later in Tiffany's window. The small room started to get warm, and I didn't know if it was from the lights overhead, or from seeing Tiffany in that outfit. She never wore jeans as tight as the ones she had on. They were usually baggier, and never showed a whole lot of her form underneath. It was at that time I noticed Tiffany actually had form.

I also realized people would be getting a good glimpse of her form tonight. Casey had her turn and face the back wall of her display window; the wall with the door. As Casey had Tiffany put her left leg in line with her shoulder, she had her slant her right leg way out to the side. This put all of Tiffany's weight on her left, and her hip rolled up on that side. It also pushed her bottom up and out.

I couldn't believe it took a pair of tight jeans to realize Tiffany's bottom had filled out a bit more than I remembered. Her legs looked good too, almost as good as her sister's legs. When the hell did she get her sister's body? Had I missed some overnight change somewhere? They said in our health class that girls mature faster than boys, but I didn't expect it to be that fast. I kept watching as Casey finished the pose instructions.

Tiffany had her right hand and arm against the back wall, with her elbow pointed down. Her shoulders were back, pushing her chest forward, and creating the same arch I had in my own back. If one could be fully blossomed, or not at all, Tiffany sat somewhere in the nearly there seat. Her breasts had grown to almost a B cup, as I now knew from experience with bras, but I hadn't noticed the rest.

Tiffany let her left arm dangle down at her side. I saw her exchange a few words with Casey, and then she giggled. Before Casey left the window, Tiffany turned her head to where she was now looking back over her right shoulder. When she saw me, she gave me a big smile. She looked amazing. I knew then that I couldn't lose her to anyone else. I had to hold onto her somehow.

I returned her smile, and with it I mouthed the words "I love you" to her. Her beaming smile dropped to a more sincere one, as she mouthed the words back. For the first time since we started posing, we could actually see each other. Even though her line of sight was actually out into the mall, she mostly kept her eyes on me. It had been a long time since we had looked at each other for more than a few seconds.

The foot traffic slowed for a moment outside. It left a small gap of time for me to stew in my thoughts. I thought of my situation. Here I was modeling girl's clothing in the window at the mall. Anyone could have walked by and recognized me. Though knowing it would totally ruin my chances at a normal life, to be caught by classmates like this, I would do it all over again. It made Tiffany happy.

I honestly didn't do this for her, though her current happiness was a bonus. In reality I had done it for the clothes. Without anyone pushing me to wear them, I had decided on my own that I actually wanted them. I even wanted to earn them, especially the boots. If that meant I had to wear them, then I chose to do so. It was a small thing, but I had come to the realization that it was a significant choice in the scheme of things.

After that realization, there came another one. I didn't even have to come here tonight. Now that I saw who was responsible for the letter, and that no harm came of it, I knew things wouldn't have changed one bit. It didn't even feel like I was forced to come now. In fact, I would put it in the long list as another choice. I kept choosing the things that made me more girly.

There was a lot to be said for my friends and family putting me in certain situations, but those situations all had choices. I didn't have to play dress up with Tiffany. She never even forced it with painting my nails. I chose to let her. I chose to go shopping, to the spa, and even to the parties as a girl. Even when Tom forced me to wear panties and paint my nails, I chose to add more to it.

The choices even became easier for me to make. At least they were until I had to make a choice to deny my feelings. Rajan had even offered me the choice right there in his office. In my opinion, I chose the path of laziness. I just wanted to go back to a normal life, and felt at the time it would get people off my back. Now I wasn't so sure a boys' life was normal for me anymore.

I could have chosen the same path as Megan. What puzzled me the most, is how well she seemed adjusted. I had always guessed that nobody paid much attention to her as a boy. Maybe her former gender simply didn't register in everyone's minds when she came back to school as a girl. Though as I thought about it more, I realized there was a bit more to it than that.

Megan absolutely sucked at being a boy. She never really called attention to herself, but I could recall moments of her silently consoling herself on the playground. I remembered she remained quiet about things, but she would cry relentlessly over things like tiny cuts or bruises. Some kids were just soft, and other kids realized that in elementary school. She was lucky to change before junior high, where half the population of kids turned downright cruel.

Then again, Megan hadn't completely changed either. To the best of my knowledge, I understood her to still be a boy down there. I wondered how she got away with it; gym class, slumber parties and such. Did I miss some kind of secret door in my life, that took you to a place where all of those things don't matter anymore? The school most certainly had to know, incase of incidents, but wouldn't the other parents be a little bit turned off by the thought of a half-boy-half-girl changing with their girls in the locker room?

That's when it finally dawned on me. It wasn't technicalities like those, or even the facts about Megan. I had been blind to it since I found out about her. She wasn't "getting away with something" as my stepfather may see it, but instead she had just been herself. It came naturally to her to act like a girl, because she was naturally a girl. Her actions, thoughts, and how she was on the inside was how the world should perceive her. If she carried herself in such a manner, then those other things shouldn't matter.

"Oh my God! It's Bailey!"

My eyes got so big I thought they would pop from my skull. Disregarding the instructions to remain as still as possible, I jerked my head in the direction of the voice I had heard. My pulse quickened. My heart raced. It was a male voice, and I thought for sure it would be someone ready and willing to make my life a living hell.

"Nathan!?" I choked out.

"You owe me five bucks chump," Nathan said. "I got her to break pose."

Next to Nathan Riley stood my brother Justin. He begrudgingly dug out a wadded bill from the front right pocket of his baggy jeans. Then he slapped it in Nathan's hand. He looked at me as he shook his head, but a small smile soon came to his lips. Nathan gloated a bit over winning the bet, but then his eyes roamed over my body.

"I'm buying us drinks with this later," Nathan said, holding up the five dollar bill and waving it at me.

I signaled for them to go bug someone else, but Justin ignored me and walked toward the entrance of 'Tweens. He seemed to be greeting someone inside the store, and I soon recognized Casey's voice talking back to him. Then the door of my display window opened, and Casey waved me back into the store. She walked over to get Tiffany out of the other window, and then she came back over to where Justin stood.

"So this is your little sister?" Casey said, looking at me.

"Yeah," Justin said. "Hope she hasn't been a pain." He was definitely trying to act mature.

"Not at all," Casey said. "She's a little cutie."

"How long have you been working here?" Justin asked.

"About three months," Casey said, moving back toward the cashier counter.

"I didn't even know they opened a 'Tweens here," Justin said.

He winked at me as he started to follow Casey. The spot where he stood didn't have time to cool off, as Nathan quickly stepped into it. Tiffany moved closer to me. She glanced back and forth between Nathan and I, and then took a quick glance around the store. I felt her nudge me with her elbow.

"So this is Nathan?"

"Yes," I said. "Nathan this is my girlfriend Tiffany." I realized my slight blunder as soon as I said it.

Tiffany quickly fixed the situation by sliding her arm around mine. "Best girlfriend," she said, putting emphasis on the first word.

"Well nice to meet you Tiffany," Nathan said. A knowing look shot across his face for a brief moment, as he offered his hand to Tiffany.

"Nice to meet you finally," Tiffany said, giving up her hand for a brief handshake. "Bailey talks about you all the time."

"Not all the time," I said, giving Tiffany a scolding look. I turned back to face Nathan. "I've mentioned you a few times."

"Well," Nathan said. "I guess an honorable mention is better than nothing." He looked back at the display windows. "So you two are doing the 'Tweens modeling thing huh?"

"Uh huh," Tiffany said. "We didn't even know about it."

"I'm sure they don't advertise for it," Nathan said, turning back to face us. "They'd have little girls flocking to the store to sign up."

"That's right," Casey said, walking up behind me. "The company pretends they're paid models, but basically we seek out models by word of mouth. We usually like repeats." She looked at Tiffany, and then looked at me. "So don't go telling everybody you know."

"Not a chance," Tiffany said. "There'd be too much competition."

Casey laughed. "You better get into your other outfits," she said, putting a key in my hand. "They're in the last stall of the changing area, and I put your names on them."

"Thanks," I said.

"How long are they going to be here?" Nathan asked.

"Probably another hour at most," Casey said. "Unless they need to leave now?"

"No," Nathan said. "It's fine. I was just wondering if they had time to get a drink in the food court after."

"Really?" Tiffany asked.

"If you want," Nathan said.

"Sure!" Tiffany said. "Sounds like fun." She turned and gave me an excited look, like she had just scored me a hot date. "We better go get changed," she said to me.

"Aw don't change," Nathan said. "I like you both the way you are."

I rolled my eyes at Nathan, and took up Tiffany's hand. We walked back to the changing room in a bit of a rush. I assumed Tiffany was in a hurry to see our new outfits, as she nearly made me drop the key to the stall from her jittering. Eventually I got the key in the hole, and we both piled into the stall. Tiffany closed the door so fast I thought she had broken it. She clicked the lock shut.

Soon I realized her excitement didn't stem from putting on a new outfit. Tiffany's excitement came from another source. At the time I didn't know exactly where it came from, but I knew it had something to do with me. I soon felt the cold from the concrete wall on my back. Tiffany's hands pinned my shoulders to the wall. Her lips soon found mine, and she shoved her tongue in my mouth in a kiss that nearly suffocated me.

"I want you so bad," she purred breathlessly, as she broke the kiss.

I stood there speechless, panting for air. Tiffany pushed her lips against mine again, and started pulling the crop top from my shoulders. I had adjusted it earlier when we came back in the store, but now I found it being peeled down my arms. She pulled the top all the way down to my wrists, before she stopped. Together, with another kiss, she slid her hands under my camisole, and started squeezing the padding of my bra. She broke the kiss and gazed into my eyes.

"I wish these were real," she said, with labored breaths. "Do you know how hot that would be?"

Before I could answer, she pushed her lips against mine again. I tried to reach out and embrace her, but with the shirt around my wrists I couldn't manage much movement. She broke our kiss to peer down, and noted my dilemma. Instead of helping me get the shirt off, she simply smiled mischievously at me. Her tongue darted out and flicked over my upper lip.

"I bet you want to touch me don't you?" she asked.

"More than you know," I said.

"Oh," Tiffany said. "I know." She had a glassy, yearning gleam in her eyes. "I bet you'd love to rub your hands all over me." She glanced down. "Do you like these jeans?"

"They look fantastic on you," I said.

"I don't normally wear them this tight," Tiffany said. She looked back up into my eyes. "But I would wear them again for you."

"Really?"

"Would you wear them for me?" Tiffany asked.

"I would," I said. "Though I think you got the body for them. Your body is incred--"

For some reason this seemed to warrant another kiss from Tiffany. Though I didn't see how it was possible, she got even more passionate. Her tongue swirled around mine, causing me to chase after it. When I thought the kiss would end, her cute little nostrils flared up in a long breath, and she continued the kiss. I wasn't at all prepared for the amount of passion we shared, and I soon found myself struggling to keep up.

Tiffany pushed her body up against mine. Her hands slid out from under my camisole and over to my forearms. She kept kissing me, as she pinned my arms to the wall, and rubbed her breasts against mine. Soon I could feel my skirt sliding up, as her right thigh invaded the space between my own thighs. I felt a bit dizzy, but she kept our lips locked together. It almost seemed as if she was trying to force every last ounce of air out of me.

My skirt continued to rise. I felt the denim of her jeans rubbing against my groin. Even through the layers of nylon and cotton, I still felt vulnerable. My eyes fluttered, but for the most part, Tiffany stared intently into them. If this was a power play, she was definitely winning. As always, she had complete control over the situation when it came to our playful little escapades. This, however, didn't feel like playing.

Tiffany took another deep breath, and I knew I couldn't continue to keep up with her. My eyes grew wide, perhaps with a bit of trepidation in them, and I detected a faint glimmer in Tiffany's eyes. I felt dizzy and weak, and my body couldn't stand the strain any longer. It didn't take long for me to show signs that I had been overwhelmed. My body finally slumped down, my groin resting on her thigh. She broke the kiss with a look of great satisfaction.

"That's my girl!" Tiffany said, while taking in a labored breath.

I struggled for a moment to catch my breath. Meanwhile, Tiffany had started to pump her foot up and down. Her thigh began to grind against my groin. Whatever effort I had put into catching my breath, now seemed moot, as I found my breath soon coming in ragged bursts. Tiffany studied my face intently, as her thigh continued to cause friction against my trapped penis.

Right as I reached that point of no return, prepared to experience the same high I felt the morning after the pool party, Tiffany stopped. She jerked her knee back away from me. All of that build up she created was squelched at the last second. The disappointment I felt was somehow comforted by the look Tiffany gave me. She had a look of concern across her face, and seemed a bit sad as well.

"I promise I'll make it up to you," Tiffany said. "I just didn't want to make a mess here."

"I understand," I said, pulling my top off the rest of the way. I knew her word was good, as she always made it up to me in some way.

Tiffany reached up and removed a bit of smeared lipstick from my lips, and then turned to use the mirror for her own. She then pulled a tube of lipstick from her pocket, and reapplied a thin coat to her lips. After handing the lipstick to me, she looked over our outfits. I watched her in the mirror. If we weren't concerned about time, or making a mess, I would've loved for her to have taken me down to the floor right there.

"So the silver flats are yours," Tiffany said, "and that outfit there."

I looked over at my outfit. A pretty, full skirt called to me from the hook on the wall. It had layers of taffeta material, some sheer, with little silver stars embroidered into it, and some silver. They were stacked upon each other, and gathered into a four inch wide waistband. Underneath all the layers there happened to be a lining layer of black satin, with decorative lace along the hem.

I lifted the skirt from the hook, and looked at the shirt that hung behind it. It appeared to be another camisole top, black, with lacy frills along the bottom and the ruche bust. Where the material of the bust came together, a small little butterfly sat with wings spread open. The outline of it appeared to be decorated in tiny little rhinestones, adding just a hint of sparkle to the otherwise plain top.

"You have got to wear that home," Tiffany said, seemingly more excited about my outfit.

"I'm not sure if we can," I said.

Tiffany had already taken her two tops off. Beneath her layers she had on a snug, seamless sports bra. I paused to watch her for a moment, and she honestly didn't seem to mind. She gave me a mischievous smile as she reached for the button of her jeans. After a quick flip of the button, and a slow pull of the zipper, Tiffany began to shimmy the jeans down her legs. If anything, it slightly made up for her stopping our previous play with such short notice.

Her panties were plain cotton briefs, the same heather gray as her bra. She obviously didn't plan on anyone seeing them tonight. I had learned this tiny little secret of selection from being around the girls. As she got the jeans down close to her knees, she eased herself onto the bench in the changing room. Then she crossed her legs to remove her right shoe, crossed them the other way to remove the left, and slid the jeans off the rest of the way.

"I think that was one of the sexiest things I've seen you do," I said.

"Your turn," Tiffany said, adding a wink.

"Prepare to be amazed," I said, sarcastically.

I smoothed my skirt, and sat down on the opposite bench. My show wasn't nearly as sexy as Tiffany's, but I did manage to remove my boots with my legs crossed. As a little added bonus for her, I got to peel the wool socks from my nylon-covered legs. She mock fanned herself, like the temperature had shot up in the room. By the time I shimmied out of the leather skirt, Tiffany was over next to me, running her hands over my pantyhose.

"You should leave those on," she said. "They feel nice."

I started to reach for the hem of my cami, but Tiffany stopped me. She pulled the other top from the hook, and removed it from the hanger. After doing that, she helped me pull it on, and adjusted it over the white cami. Now I had the black cami over the white, with the white's lacy decoration showing from behind the lacy decoration in the black. I also noticed the black one didn't come down as far as the white one, leaving about an inch of white sticking out of the bottom.

"Cute," Tiffany said. "Skirt please."

I reached back, and brought the skirt up to Tiffany's waiting hands. Before I knew it, she was down on her knees in front of me. She held out the skirt for me to step into it, and then she slowly brought it up my legs. When she reached about mid thigh with the top of the skirt, she stopped and left it there for a moment. I felt her hands slide around to the backs of my legs.

After a moment passed, of Tiffany rubbing my legs over my pantyhose, she moved her hands up further. Soon she had them latched onto my bottom, and squeezed my buns gently. I couldn't tell if I was moving forward, or if Tiffany was, but she soon had her face near my lap. Her beautiful eyes rolled up to look into mine. Then she let her face fall forward, and gently kissed the area where my penis sat tucked beneath my hose and panties.

I trembled at Tiffany's gesture. She pulled away quickly after, and slowly pulled the skirt up the rest of the way. After adjusting my tops so they were over the wide waistband of my skirt, she fluffed the layers of the skirt out. She then reached for the silver ballet flats, and sat them next to my feet on the floor. Then she lowered herself almost to the floor, and after kissing the tops of my feet, she helped me slide the flats over them. She had never demonstrated such an obvious submissive gesture toward me before, and it shocked me.

I regained my composure, as she cleared my pantyhose of a few noticeable traces of white thread and fuzz left from the knit socks. Did she want to play the part of the maid now? When she seemed satisfied, she pulled away. I helped her back up to her feet. We shared a subtle smile, and held each other's hands for a moment. Then she leaned forward and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"I better get dressed," Tiffany said, as she pulled away from me.

"Tiffany…"

I grabbed her right hand with my left before she slipped away. She turned back to me, her hair flipping around in a sudden jerk. As I gazed upon her, a lingering silence filled the air. Her face contorted from a look of sudden surprise, to a curious concerned expression. She started to say something, but I stopped her.

"You look amazing," I said.

Tiffany blushed, as her eyes became misty. "You are the sweetest person I know," she said, squeezing my hand tightly.

Tiffany slid her arms around me. She held me for a moment in a tight embrace. Before moving away, she gave me another kiss on the cheek. I swear to this day, that she briefly reached up to wipe away a tear. How could I possibly be the sweetest person she knew? There had to be other people out there willing to give her a compliment. Surely her family was sweet to her, though they had been giving her a hard time lately.

Tiffany's second outfit, in my opinion, looked rather dull at first. On her body, however, it looked really nice. She wore a cap-sleeved, black, satin shirt dress, with darting to make it appear fitted. It buttoned up from the waist to the bust, leaving the area from the bust to the collar a strict V neckline that couldn't be closed. Each breast boasted a fake pocket, which made the whole thing look rather businesslike.

To add to the uncompromisingly sensible look of the black dress, it came with a wide black leather belt to go around the midsection. At least I thought it was leather, but it could've been fake. She also had to wear the same strappy, black sandals, as Casey didn't give her any other shoes. The only thing Tiffany got to offset her all black outfit, was a cute coral colored bolero style jacket. It was crochet mesh, and had three-quarter sleeves with a slight puff on each shoulder.

"You two look lovely," Casey said, as we walked back into the store. "And it looks like you scored a couple of cute guys in the process." She smiled at us, before giving a little wink. "They said they'd wait for you down in the food court."

"That was my brother," I said, a little disgustedly.

"Well Tiffany can take Justin," Casey said, "and you can have Nathan."

"Yeah Bailey," Tiffany said, nudging me playfully with her elbow. "You can have Nathan."

I noticed she put a little more emphasis on the word have, like she was rooting for me to hook up with Nathan. After seeing Kale the other day, Nathan had actually slipped down to number two on my list. Why I secretly had a list of guys I would hook up with, if I had to choose, was beyond me. I honestly had no desire to do so. However, I still questioned whether or not Kale dressed as a girl counted as a guy. Megan's condition had completely taken her off of the guys list.

Casey gave us our new poses, and we went back to work. I posed like a blushing little school girl, crouched over slightly and holding the front of my skirt down. It got a little hard to hold over time, as I had to keep my knees and toes together, while angling my heels out. Tiffany looked like one of those moody models, with her hip thrust out to the side, and her hand resting in a fist on top of it. Her other arm dangled along her left side, making her appear agitated by others.

Ten minutes passed in a hurry, and Casey came back with props. She gave me a stool to sit on, thinking I might be a bit tired of standing. My pose became the sitting equivalent of my last one, with my knees together and my hands holding my skirt down in my lap. Casey had me sit up straight, and she moved my feet as far out as they would go. I rested them on my toes, and let my heels fall out away from my body.

When I stole a glance at Tiffany, I noticed she got a stool to sit on as well. Only she had been instructed to sit like a proper lady. Her pose was stiff and rigid, and as businesslike as her outfit. She had her legs crossed. The bottom leg, her left, slanted back under her a bit, while the right leg hung neatly over it. She sat up straight, and held a compact mirror up like she was checking her makeup.

It was during this second pose, that Jillian returned to the store. She smiled as she passed me, and then stepped over to look in on Tiffany. I don't think Tiffany noticed, but Jillian seemed to be admiring her. Jillian took an unusually long amount of time just to be looking someone over. Maybe it was the heat of the lights, or I was over-thinking it, but there seemed to be a bit of pure admiration on Jillian's part.

When it came time for our last poses of the night, I was surprised to see Jillian go into Tiffany's display window. Even more surprising was the fact that Jillian decided to pose with her. She gave Tiffany an open folder, and had her hold it up like she was looking at it. Tiffany pretended to be so engrossed with what was in the folder, that she didn't pay attention to Jillian.

Meanwhile, Jillian sat on the stool in front of Tiffany. She stooped over and held a cloth measuring tape against Tiffany. It appeared like she was measuring down Tiffany's leg from her waist. I finally got the image they were going for, as soon as they finally held it. They wanted it to appear like Tiffany was a business woman, too busy to pay attention to the girl measuring her for clothing.

I nearly fainted when Casey entered my display window with a young boy. Before I could say anything about it, Casey had me stand and took away my stool. She had me turn and face the boy. Luckily I didn't recognize him, and I hoped he didn't recognize me. He really wasn't bad to look at either, with his casual khakis and sweater look, and short, curly black hair. His brown eyes seemed sincere, but filled with a bit of trepidation.

I soon realized that Casey intended us to pose together. Apparently he had been out in the mall handing coupons away, like Jillian, and I hadn't noticed he came back a bit before her. Maybe Jillian and this boy had been modeling before we got there, and Tiffany and I replaced them. I really didn't care where he had been though. The whole of me just wanted this next block of ten minutes to be over quickly.

Casey didn't seem to notice I was a bit uncomfortable about the situation. She went ahead and posed us anyway. First she had me stand with my legs tight together. Then she instructed me to lift my right heel, and twist it out, so that my right knee was bent slightly in front of my left. Next she instructed me to hold my arms straight down, but to rest my wrists against my skirt. This left my arms angled out a bit, and she had me hold my hands perpendicular to the floor, with my palms facing down.

For the last part of the pose, Casey had me look at an empty box the boy held. She told me to hold a surprised look, like Dylan had bought me a present. At least I knew the boy's name now, and I didn't recognize it at all. Casey tilted my shoulders, right side down and left side up, shifting my weight to my right side. This caused me to put most of my weight on just the toes of my right side, instead of the more stable left side; where my foot was solidly flat on the floor.

I felt unsure and vulnerable. A strong wind could have knocked me over. If I toppled, I would hopefully be caught by Dylan, before I crashed to the floor. However, I really didn't want to fall into some strange boy's arms. Casey approved of my pose, however, and after giving Dylan a few instructions, she left the display window. I glanced up at Dylan.

"I'm their cousin by the way," Dylan said. "They usually rope me into this, 'cause no guy is willing to do it."

"Okay," I said, keeping it simple.

I really didn't want to talk to him. It felt strange having a boy stare at me for any length of time, let alone a whole ten minute block. Not to mention the fact that he had solidified yet another aspect of my girlishness in my own mind. He was probably right too. No guy was willing to do what I was doing. Therefore, I concluded that I wasn't much of a guy to be doing it.

"I just thought you should know," Dylan said. "It's not like my twisted way to pick up chicks."

"I don't think we're supposed to be talking," I said, in a near whisper.

"I do all the time," Dylan said.

"Well it's not like they're going to send you packing," I said. "I'm actually taking this seriously."

"Oh I am too," Dylan said. "Believe me. If I goof around, my parents will hear about it. I'll be grounded for like a month, if I do something stupid."

"Then stop talking," I said, looking back at the box.

"I can't help it," Dylan said. "I think you're pretty."

My eyes shot up to meet his. "What?"

"Usually I'm in a window by myself," Dylan said, "or handing out coupons." His eyes moved over my body. "You're like the cutest girl I've gotten to model with though."

"Thanks," I said, "but I can see why."

"Why what?"

"Why you're by yourself," I said. "You talk too much, and it's distracting."

"I'm sorry," Dylan said, for the first time looking sincere. "I'm just kind of nervous around pretty girls, and I start talking."

"Well I really want some of these clothes," I said, having to reel from the shock of the statement actually being true. "So don't blow it for me."

"Oh I won't," Dylan said. "You can have my clothes too, if you'd like."

"What!?" I glanced back up at him.

"I meant…" Dylan looked down in shame. "That sounded so wrong. I meant you could have my limit for yourself."

"That's really nice of you," I said, "but I can't accept that."

"No really," Dylan said. "I don't even like the clothes here. Most of the time it just goes to waste."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "You did work for it."

"Like I said," Dylan said. "I'm being forced to do this. If you don't take it, Jillian will."

"What about my girlfriend?" I asked, instantly wanting the question back to reword it.

"Sure," Dylan said. "You two can split it."

"I don't know," I said.

"Please?" Dylan pleaded. "It's my way of saying sorry."

"I'm sorry I misjudged you," I said, as sincere as I could make it sound. "You're actually a pretty nice guy. I guess I'll accept the offer." I gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

"It's nothing," Dylan said. "Just helping out two pretty girls."

I tried to ignore his comment, and went back to staring at the box. Though there was nothing but crumpled red tissue paper in it, I pretended Dylan was giving me his clothing limit in box form. A few minutes passed in silence. The crowd had dissipated outside in the mall. Only a few stragglers walked by 'Tweens, and out of those, only about ten total stopped to look inside.

"Do you want to hang out for a bit after this?" Dylan asked, piercing the silence again with his shaky voice.

"I kind of have other plans," I said.

"Oh," Dylan said. "No problem."

For some reason I felt bad about blowing him off, especially after what he had just done for me. I glanced past him at Tiffany, who seemed to be utterly ignoring me as well as Jillian. What would she have done in this situation? Would she have at least given him a shot to redeem himself? I did have other plans, so it wasn't like I was lying. Still…

"Though I see no reason why you can't join us," I said, looking at Dylan.

"Really?" he asked, perking up.

"Sure!" I said. "We're just meeting some friends in the food court."

"Ah, cool!" Dylan said. "Sounds like fun."

We went back to an awkward silence for the remainder of our ten minute pose. However, it lasted a bit longer than ten minutes by my estimate. My legs were starting to get sore, and I felt wobbly on my right side. I started to wonder how some people made a living at this. I pictured models having to stand in one pose for sculptors and painters. Silly thoughts like that usually helped me persevere most of the time, and it seemed to work this time as well.

"You two can come out now," Casey said, after opening the door of the display window.

"That was way more than ten minutes, Case," Dylan said.

"I know," Casey said. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't get up here in time." She turned to face me as she got to the other window. "You okay Bailey?"

"I'm fine," I said.

"I know it can get a little hot in there," Casey said, before waving at the other display window. "There's water in the back if you need some."

"I'm fine," I said again. "Really."

"So your name's Bailey huh?" Dylan said.

"Yes," I said. "Sorry we weren't properly introduced."

"Well nice to meet you Bailey," Dylan said, extending his hand.

I took his hand, but instantly wanted to release it. His hand felt clammy and a bit sweaty. Either he got hot from the lights, or he was really nervous. Tiffany and Jillian came out of the other display window, and walked over to us. I nodded at Tiffany for Dylan.

"This is Tiffany," I said.

"Nice to meet you too," Dylan said, shaking her hand.

"Likewise," Tiffany said.

"Stop fraternizing with the help," Jillian said, walking back into the store.

"Stop using nerdy words like you're important," Dylan said.

"I'm more important than you!" Jillian retorted.

"Guys!" Casey said. "Stop fighting." She watched Jillian storm off into the back, before turning to Dylan. "You've been at each other's throats since we left the house today. What gives?"

"She's always so bossy and arrogant," Dylan said. "Oh, and I'm giving these two my clothing limit." He turned back to me. "See you in a little bit?"

I nodded, while Tiffany gave me a strange look. Dylan walked out of the store. Apparently he came in those clothes, or he had taken them from 'Tweens on another occasion. Casey didn't say a thing about it. She watched Dylan leave, and then looked at us. Then she slowly shook her head.

"I don't know why he thinks he can just give away his limit like that," Casey said. "He knows the rules say it's void if he declines the offer."

"It's really no big deal," I said.

"No it is," Casey said. "I can't let you have his limit, but we can work something out."

Jillian came up beside her, holding two bags. "I got your things from the back," she said, offering us each a bag. "You can use the same changing room." She turned and started to walk away.

"Hey, Jillian?" Tiffany asked, waiting for her to turn around. "You want to come hang out with us at the food court?"

Jillian looked us both over, before shrugging. "I guess so."

"Guess we'll see you there then," Tiffany said.

"I'll meet you down there," Jillian said. "I have to do the count on the coupons we gave out tonight."

"Sure," Tiffany said. "No problem."

"We should be there a while," I said.

"Super," Jillian said, before turning to walk to the back.

Tiffany took my empty hand, and nearly dragged me to the changing room. I figured we were going to have another make out episode when she rushed to close the door. I shied away from Tiffany, not wanting to get caught up in the moment. Though I loved how she made me feel in those moments, I wasn't in the mood now. I knew it wouldn't culminate into something special, so I simply declined.

"What's with you and Dylan?" Tiffany asked. She turned to face me with a stunned expression.

"Nothing," I said.

"It sure didn't look like nothing," Tiffany said.

Her demeanor hadn't slipped into that of a jealous girlfriend. Come to think of it, she seldom got upset about me flirting with others, or even over my roaming eyes. One time she had looked upset over me talking about a few girls in our class who I thought were pretty. However, she didn't get mad about it. In fact, Tiffany was the one who now talked about other pretty girls in class, and she didn't mind if I chimed in. I guess it was the equivalent of a girl talking to a gay friend about boys, only we were like two lesbians talking about girls.

"He just wouldn't stop talking to me," I said.

"And?"

"And…" I said, dragging it out like she did. "Nothing."

"You are so not telling me the whole story," Tiffany said.

I chuckled. "There's no story!"

Tiffany started pulling the bolero style jacket off. "This is cute," she said. "I think I'll definitely keep this."

"It looks good on you," I said, starting to peel my own outfit off.

"So are you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"About Dylan," Tiffany said. "What happened in there?"

"You're not going to let this go are you?"

Tiffany shook her head solemnly. She put the bolero style jacket on a hanger, and went to remove the belt around her waist. I watched her for a moment, as she balanced herself against the wall to remove one shoe. Then she balanced herself against the other wall to remove the other shoe. The method wasn't nearly as sexy as the last time. It became increasingly obvious that she wouldn't talk until I said something.

"Oh fine," I said, pulling at my top. "He wouldn't stop talking, so I told him how important the clothes were to me." I paused when Tiffany looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "To us I mean."

"No," Tiffany said. "You said they were important to you." She smiled at me. "That's fine if they are. I understand." She reached for the buttons of her dress. "But go on."

I pulled the shirt over my head, and reached for a hanger. "So I found out he's their cousin."

"Casey and Jillian's?"

"Yes," I said. "They make him help out here all the time. I don't know why they can't find someone else."

"Don't you know the deal with this place?" Tiffany asked.

"Should I?"

Tiffany laughed quietly. "Their relatives own 'Tweens," she said. "They have a huge family, and some of them moved out here from Colorado."

"Oh," I said. "I didn't know that."

"Well," Tiffany said. "Casey's parents opened a store here, and Casey and Jillian help out a lot, because they're just getting started. I just didn't know Dylan was related." She shook her head. "But we're getting off track. Tell me about Dylan."

"He saw I was upset and offered his clothing limit to me," I said. "Basically it was offered to both of us."

"Well," Tiffany said. "I think you should take it." She pulled the dress off over her head. "If Casey honors it that is."

"I'd hate to take advantage of the store," I said, pulling the skirt down and stepping out of it. "I'd feel bad about it."

"Maybe you could talk Casey into letting you have something extra," Tiffany said.

"We'll see," I said.

"So that's the whole story?" Tiffany asked.

"Yes," I said. I clumsily pulled the flats from my feet. "I told you it was nothing."

"Do you like him?" Tiffany asked, while reaching into her bag for her pantyhose.

"He isn't horrible," I said.

"Think he's cute?" Tiffany asked.

"Well he's not horribly ugly," I said.

"Okay," Tiffany said. "Relax! I was just curious."

"It's no big deal," I said.

"I just thought since you told us about Nathan, that…" Her voice trailed off.

"That what?" I asked. "You think I like boys now?"

"I was just wondering if you found them attractive is all," Tiffany said.

"Well I don't," I said.

I reached into my own bag for my skirt. To be honest, I wanted to get dressed as quickly as possible. I really wasn't in a rush, but at the same time I didn't want to give Tiffany an opportunity to tease me into oblivion again. Only she didn't seem interested in that at the moment. She seemed more interested in trying to find some meaning in me asking Dylan to join us. I should've been asking her about inviting Jillian, after her comments earlier.

"Well I would be really careful about how you handle him," Tiffany said, starting the pantyhose up her left leg. "If you don't like him in that way, don't give him the wrong impression." She leaned toward me and lowered her voice. "He also doesn't know you're a boy."

"I kind of figured as much," I said. "He kept calling me a pretty girl."

Tiffany snickered. "He what?"

"He said I was pretty," I said, blushing at divulging the information.

"Yes you are," Tiffany said. "I just can't believe he would be so bold."

"I thought it was sweet," I said.

Tiffany finished putting her pantyhose on. I could take a little liberty at watching her dress, as I had most of my clothing on already. She pulled her plum colored dress from the bag, and fidgeted with it for a moment. I watched as she slipped it on over her head, and pulled her long black hair out of the neck. She paid little attention to me watching, as she made minor adjustments to how the dress sat on her.

"Sweet as it may be," Tiffany said, "he might be expecting something more, since you invited him along with us." She looked at me with concern. "You have to be careful with boys."

"Why did you invite Jillian?" I asked.

Tiffany sighed. "I really shouldn't say." She retrieved her shoes from her bag, and sat down with them.

"You know you can tell me," I said, grabbing my sweater from my own bag. "I won't say anything."

"You have to promise me you won't let this leave the room," Tiffany said.

"That bad?" I asked, pulling my sweater on. "I promise it won't."

Tiffany patted the bench next to her. I grabbed my Oxfords from my bag and sat down, remembering to smooth my skirt first. For some reason I found it harder to break from doing this, than actually doing it. Sometimes I found myself reaching behind to smooth my skirt, while I would have jeans on. Even worse were the times I happened to not be dressed as a girl. It created a bad habit of me rubbing my hand on my jeans, like I was wiping my hands off or something, just to cover it up in the eyes of other people.

Tiffany spoke in a hushed voice. "Jillian is like the worst case loner. She comes off as pushy and even bitchy at times. It takes a very long time to get to know her, from what I hear." She held out her left shoe and observed it for a moment. "Some girls say she isn't worth getting to know even after getting past all of that."

"Is there something wrong with her?" I asked.

"I think," Tiffany said, "and this is just me talking, that she's a passionate person. I don't think she realizes that trying to be the best student, or little miss prude all of the time, is actually costing her in the long run. They say she doesn't even enjoy doing normal stuff like hanging in the mall." She stooped down to slip her shoe on. "I just think she needs a friend who isn't afraid to knock her down to earth."

"And you want to try it?" I asked, laughing a bit as I slipped on my shoes.

"I don't know if I want to," Tiffany said. "I'd just like to get to know her a bit."

"Well…" I paused to lace up my shoes. "I'll help if you need me to." I sat back up to look at her. "Just help me get out of my situation with Dylan… please?"

"Okay," Tiffany said, with a slight giggle. "Just don't hold his hand tonight, or kiss him."

I furrowed my brow at Tiffany, as she started giggling uncontrollably. She really didn't make me mad, but I stood and huffed around the changing stall like she had made me mad. I started collecting the clothes I had discarded around the room, and putting them on hangers. For the shoes, I placed them neatly in the boxes. By the time Tiffany had joined me in tidying up, we heard a knock on the door of the stall.

"Occupied," Tiffany said.

"Have you two decided on what you would like?" Casey asked.

"Oh!" Tiffany unlocked the door of the stall, and let Casey enter. "I can't really decide," she said. "I like it all."

"Well I can run prices for you," Casey said. "That might help you decide."

"If it's not too much trouble," I said, handing her the key to the stall.

"We're not busy at all out front," Casey said. "Just put this all in your bags, and bring it up to the register."

"Sure! Okay," Tiffany said.

A few minutes later, Tiffany and I were up at the register with Casey. She went through the items, and gave us the sales prices on them all. The only things not on sale were the sandals Tiffany wore, and the boots I wore. Tiffany loved the sandals though, and they basically bottomed out her list when she talked Casey into letting her keep them. She ended up with the jeans, bolero jacket, sandals and Casey even let her keep the dress.

When it became my turn, I wanted to initially keep it all. I soon realized it would be way over my limit, so I had to make some tough decisions. Naturally I kept the ballet flats, as I could not get enough shoes. I decided on both tops, and the leather skirt, which left me within five dollars of my limit. Casey then surprised me, by throwing in the boots and socks to go with them. She smiled as she suggested we could share the boots.

By the time we made it out of the store, and headed for the food court, my legs did not want to carry me anymore. Tiffany appeared to be tired as well, as she leaned against the rail of the escalator for support. We got down to the bottom and walked the short distance to the food court. It seemed like everyone I knew had congregated there tonight.

The older kids; Justin, Nathan, Kate, Rebecca and Lynne were all at one table. At another table sat Dylan, along with Tawny, Megan and Vanessa. The three of them had finally come out of hiding long enough to make an appearance. I still hadn't seen Rachel that night, so I didn't know what she was up to, or little did I care. She was like Danielle in many ways; very interested in all things gossip.

"Keep some space between yourself and Dylan," Tiffany whispered in my ear. "Try to stay friendly, but don't flirt."

"Got it," I said.

"There's our two models," Nathan said, giving us a mock camera gesture.

"I can't believe you two got to do that," Rebecca said.

Kate shook her head. "They didn't even have stuff like that when we were your age."

"Yep," Lynne said. "You two are some lucky bitches."

"I'd say watch the language in front of the ladies," Tawny said, looking at her sister. "But it's a supposed lady," she held up her fingers to make quotation marks, "swearing like a sailor tonight?"

"Whatev' skank," Lynne said. "Looks like you're walking home tonight."

"Right," Tawny said, dragging out the "I" sound.

"Let her have her fun," Megan said, putting her arm around Tawny's. "We had ours tonight."

"Ooh," Kate said. "Sassy." She smiled at Megan. "I like her."

"I don't even wanna hear," Lynne said.

Tiffany and I sat down near the table with the kids around our age. I honestly didn't have to worry about Dylan, as Vanessa had decidedly chosen to flirt to oblivion with him. In any case, I had purposefully put the table between Dylan and I, but I found it was Nathan I hadn't factored into the equation. He actually switched chairs to be closer to me.

"Leaving the big kid's table?" Justin asked.

"Hey now," Nathan said. "Don't be a hater."

If I had any amount of time to get up and change seats, it was soon cut off. Tiffany had slipped her shoes off, and very bluntly put her calves across my lap. Nobody really found it out of the ordinary either, but her boldness shocked me a bit. I tentatively placed my hands upon her nylon-clad legs, and before long I started massaging them.

Kate looked over at one point and winked at me with a knowing smile. I remembered the conversation I had with her, earlier on in the week, about this sort of thing. For a little while I got lost in the sheer enjoyment of massaging Tiffany's legs. If they were as sore as mine were, this probably put her on cloud nine. I mused at this thought, as I looked at her. Tiffany's body screamed exhaustion, but her eyes had an inattentive haze about them.

In the past few months I had learned quite a few interesting things about Tiffany. Some things were huge, like her attraction to girls, and boys who looked like girls. This had put a bit of strain in our relationship, but I realized before too long, that I would never have to worry about losing her to the typical man's man. This had taken a lot of pressure off of me, in the case of trying to be a typical guy; my stepfather's version of such.

I couldn't be that type of guy. Even with a few doses of testosterone having been administered to me, I still looked every bit as scrawny as I did last year at this time. Doing extraneous labor seemed to cause two reactions in me. One reaction was that it wore me out. The other reaction was that it showed no matter what I lifted, even repeatedly, I didn't change the structure of my body. However, Tiffany seemed more content than ever when she saw those flaws in me.

Then there were other smaller things I learned about Tiffany. I learned she had a huge foot fetish. She liked people touching her feet, and she liked to touch other girls' feet. Since there were really no willing girls around for her to try it with, she had grown quite fond of playing with me. In that respect, I grew to have a fetish for it too. As my massage brought my hands closer to Tiffany's feet, I could tell that even through her tiredness, this was completely turning her on.

I secretly wished it was me in her place. Almost as if reading my mind, I felt my left foot being swept up into Nathan's lap. My eyes grew wider as I abruptly turned to face him. Everyone around us continued to fill the immediate area with senseless banter. It became all so distant, as I felt Nathan's strong hands start to knead the muscles of my calf. My eyes shut for a moment, and when I opened them again, they carried the same dazed stupor as Tiffany's eyes.

"Does that feel good?" Nathan asked, his voice quieter than the roar of our friends around us.

I nodded, unsure if I could even talk at this point. It had been almost two months since Nathan had touched my legs, and I had forgotten how good his touch felt. His hands felt so different from Tiffany's, and not just because he was a guy. The gentleness in his method was about the same, but he had this part of him that took great care in what he was doing. I couldn't quite place where the difference came in, but it felt amazing.

"I bet your legs are sore from standing in that window all night," Nathan said.

"Extremely," I said.

I didn't even care if I had an audience at this point. If Tiffany didn't mind having me massage her feet and legs in public, then I didn't care if Nathan did it for me. It may have looked odd to some people, but they could get over it. If anything, it looked like a group of friends who showed concern for one another, and that's what it was all about. Not to mention that Nathan's hands and fingers were like little magic joy bringers. I only hoped it felt this good for Tiffany.

"Why don't we just start a foot massage chain going?" Kate asked, jokingly. She had taken notice of our little scene, and sought to tease us about it.

"Put 'em up here," Justin said to Kate, while patting his thigh.

I could tell it caught Kate a bit off guard, as she turned to face my brother. "Really?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Sure!" Justin said. "Why not?"

It didn't take long at all for Kate to take my brother up on his offer. I admit I felt a twinge of jealousy when she put her socked feet up on his thigh. My brother wasted no time in getting his hands on her in any way he could. He had a crush on Kate for as long as I could remember. Her being a senior, and him a junior, made it a little harder for him to get with her. I knew if he took interest in her feet, he might have a chance. She loved the attention, and ate it up.

"Did you two have fun tonight?" Jillian asked. She had walked up behind me, and startled me a bit.

"Best time ever!" Tiffany said, answering for the both of us.

"I'm glad," Jillian said, sitting down between us. "Casey really liked you two. She said you were easy to work with."

"They were just talking about how they'd love to do it again," Nathan said, an obvious lie.

"I'm sure we can work something out," Jillian said.

The next thing I knew, Nathan had started undoing the laces of my shoe. He slowly slipped the shoe off of my foot, holding my ankle to support my leg. Out of all of us, I swore I was receiving the best treatment. Before long, Nathan set about kneading the muscles in my foot. His hands felt amazing, sliding over the nylon. He glanced at the soft carnation pink color of my toenails, and then smiled at me.

"Cute color," he said.

"Thanks," I said, with a noticeable blush.

I took my eyes off of Nathan, to look around our group of friends. Vanessa and Dylan were involved with their own quiet conversation, while Justin and Kate appeared to be flirting. Lynne jumped back and forth between flirting with young men walking by, and talking with Rebecca and Nathan. Tiffany thought I was obviously busy with Nathan, and started her own whispered conversation with Jillian. Meanwhile, Megan and Tawny were sharing what appeared to be pillow talk amongst themselves.

I closed my eyes for a moment, drifting away from all the crowd noise and chitchat around me. Nathan's hands continued to work their magic on my left foot. I secretly hoped he'd soon move to my other foot. As I thought about how good his hands would feel on the sorest of my two feet, I felt a different kind of sensation on my right leg. My eyes shot open to see a small nylon-clad foot running up and down my calf. The wearer had on black pantyhose.

My eyes ran up the leg, tracing it to the owner. To my surprise, the leg belonged to Megan. She had a mischievous look in her almond shaped eyes, and a teasing little smile upon her face. Next to her, Tawny whispered sweet little nothings in her ear. Every so often they would both giggle, but Tawny never looked where Megan's gaze fell. Did she have any idea what Megan was doing?

Megan dropped her leg from mine, and I glanced away in shock. As I peered out past the fountain, I saw two familiar people. Jason was walking with Tracy, and they were headed our way. I started to panic, but Tracy stopped walking. She pointed at our group, and Jason said something to her after looking over at us. He gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek, and then walked the other way.

I sighed, and Nathan took it as a sign he was doing a good job. He concentrated in the spot where he was at, and it felt so good. It also felt good to avoid two dilemmas in one night. I had taken on the challenge of being a female model, and somehow avoided countless people who could have been in the mall that night. Yet I survived, at least for now I did. I didn't know how long I could keep this up, but for now, I was happy. Everyone around me seemed happy as well.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...