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Part 3

On the following Monday, I could be found pacing the floor of one of Doctor Dinesh's offices. The afternoon sun caused light to trickle in across the plain gray carpet. It was ugly carpet, a modest office grade, and felt rough beneath me. Rajan, as I called him, asked me to wait in here, and make myself comfortable. So I hadn't replaced my shoes, and chose to walk the floor with my white ankle socks on.

This had been the longest appointment so far at his office. Surprisingly enough, I was rushed right in, as nobody seemed to be here before me. I guess gender identity disorder wasn't the most popular practice to get into. Rajan said it was a growing field, and he had sought out a growing city to set up his practice. I asked him how many cases he had here, but he brushed the question off by claiming he had a few.

When I got here, Rajan's nurse, the lovely Jennifer, had taken my measurements again. I had grown exactly one inch since my appointment in June, leaving me at five feet even. Though I couldn't place where my extra weight had registered from, I had gained a few pounds. I still felt on the runt side of my classmates weighing only ninety-seven pounds. When Jennifer had read it off to me, I mused inwardly about being one pound shy of a ninety-eight pound weakling.

Tom had brought me straight here from school, so I hadn't had a chance to change. Both Jennifer and Rajan pointed out that it was the first time they had seen me in male attire. My baggy hand-me-down jeans caught on my heels every so often, while my long-sleeved gray shirt looked like it could fit another half a person inside. Rajan seemed a bit surprised that I wore lavender bikini briefs beneath it all.

I turned away from the window and started to walk around the office. My bottom felt stiff and sore from the latest shot, having received it only a few minutes prior. Even though I shared my doubts with Rajan, about the testosterone treatments not working, he assured me that it would take more time. After another hands-on examination of my genitals, Rajan had Jennifer take my blood again for testing, and said he'd have results by the end of October.

As I wandered back behind a large leather couch, I studied the diplomas on the wall. Rajan had quite a few, mostly from the University of Nevada School of Medicine. I had learned he was a licensed psychiatrist along with a few other credentials. It put my mind slightly at ease knowing he had the papers to back up what he was doing. Though I wondered if there wasn't someone else out there more qualified. I perused the medical books on his bookcase.

"Find anything you want to check out?" Rajan asked, as he came into the office.

"I think they'd be over my head," I said, turning to see him smiling.

"Anything's possible if you apply yourself," Rajan said. "I just need a moment to look over your file. Then I'd like to talk with you for a little while."

"Okay," I said.

"You can sit, stand, lie down," Rajan said. "Whatever you feel comfortable with."

I nodded with a subtle half smile. He always said the same things. Rajan slumped down into a high-backed black leather chair behind a large dark wood desk. He busied himself for a moment with his computer, entering a few things from my chart onto it. I watched him for a moment. Over time he had become a comfortable and familiar face.

Rajan had strong masculine features. His parents had come to the United States from India before he was born, so although he had a traditional name, his slight accent seemed hardly noticeable. He actually had a deeper, more relaxing voice, like a George Clooney type. Oddly enough, he actually looked like the Indian version of Clooney, but with dark brown eyes, bushier eyebrows and thicker black hair.

"The good news is you're still healthy physically," Rajan said, as he typed away at his keyboard. "Do you stay active?"

"Does walking around the mall count?" I asked with a nervous smile.

Rajan looked up at me, and let out a slight chuckle. "Well, people do walk around the mall for exercise, but do you do that often?"

"Not really."

"I'd like to recommend you get out at least twice a week to jog or run," Rajan said. "Three times would be even better, but you can work up to that."

"I guess I could jog with Nathan," I said.

"Your brother's friend, right?"

"Yes," I said, amazed he even remembered.

"How is he?" Rajan asked.

"He's good," I said. "I got to hang out with him Friday night."

"Were you dressed?"

"Actually I was," I said. "I had an interesting night."

"Would you like to discuss it?" Rajan asked. "It's up to you."

"Well it all started Tuesday," I said. "Tiffany and I got this letter to meet someone at the mall on Friday, only the letter didn't say who it was from or anything. They hinted that they knew about my secret."

"Tiffany your girlfriend?" Rajan asked, looking at my chart.

I nodded, now realizing his memory trick was just good record keeping. "We decided to go anyway, despite the possible dangers," I said.

"Indeed," Rajan said. "You both could have been in serious danger. Did this person know about your condition?"

"At first I thought they did," I said, "but it turns out what they thought was our secret wasn't actually about my condition. She just thought she had cornered two lesbians."

"So it was a girl who gave the letter?"

"Yes," I said. "She ended up dragging us to the mall to help out her family's store." I smiled as I recalled the evening. "They have girls around our age model clothing for them, like live mannequins, and let them keep some of the clothes."

"Sounds like fun," Rajan said. "You did this all as your female persona?"

"Yes."

"And nobody was the wiser?"

"Only those who already knew," I said. "They didn't say anything though."

Rajan nodded, as his eyes fell to my chart. He scribbled on a notepad for a moment, as I stood there quietly. As he continued to write, I strolled back over to the window. I stopped in front of it and stared out. The wind seemed pretty strong that day, but it was still pretty outside. Huge puffy clouds skirted across the rich blue sky.

"How's your home life?" Rajan asked.

"Good I guess," I said.

"Is Tom still on your case?"

"He's been pretty nice to me lately," I said. "He even bought a diary for me to write my feelings in." I smiled as I recalled the small gift.

"Do you use it?"

"I wrote in it all morning Saturday," I said. "About the night before."

"Did you find it…" Rajan paused to find the right question. "Was it hard to record your thoughts and feelings, or did you find it comforting?"

"A little of both," I said, watching a young woman walk by outside. "I thought it was hard to start, but once I got going, I didn't want to stop."

"So you and Tom get along now?"

"Better than we have," I said. "I mean… everyone has arguments at times."

"Indeed," Rajan said. "I'm glad to hear you two are getting along." He paused for a moment. "How about your mother?"

"She's the same as always," I said. "Except she's been a bit busier at work."

"Does this upset you?"

"A little I guess," I said. "She's a little hard to talk to about some things."

"How so?" Rajan asked.

"She…" I watched a few passing cars. "It just feels like she always takes the female side of things. It's hard to explain."

"Take your time," Rajan said. "I'd like to hear this."

"Like for example," I blurted out, without thinking of any particular direction to take it. I thought for a moment, before coming up with something. "Say I wore something girly, and she asked why, and I responded because it's comfortable." I paused for a moment. "My mother would instantly think I felt comfortable wearing it because I'm actually a girl deep down. Yet, I could be simply wearing the clothing for comfort."

"Ah I see," Rajan said. "So she overanalyzes your choices, thinking they're always a reflection on how you feel inwardly?"

"Right," I said, having to process what he asked.

"Are there anymore examples of this behavior?"

"Well," I said. "The other night we watched some sappy Lifetime movie, and I only watched it because I thought the girl in it was cute. My mother thought we were bonding on some womanly level, or something."

I turned to face Rajan. Somehow I thought this would amuse him to the point of laughter. He simply nodded at what I said, and scribbled a few notes. I guess I had grown used to any girlish tendencies I displayed, being mocked by peers. Rajan simply listened, and wrote. I had found very few people like this, willing to listen and understand me.

"Is your brother any different around you?" Rajan asked.

"He hasn't changed much," I said. "Though he's a bit more protective."

"More so than you mentioned last time?"

"No," I said. "About the same. Just a protective older brother."

"You said a while back, that you were concerned about him turning into someone like Tom," Rajan said. "Have you seen that occur, or has he reversed course?"

"Reversed in a big way," I said. "He more closely resembles Nathan now more than anyone."

"Do you still think about Nathan?"

"Sometimes," I said, "but I never want to act on any of it."

"Are you scared of rejection?"

"Not really," I said. "I just think he was right about the timing and all. I'm a bit young still."

"Indeed," Rajan said. "You'll have plenty of time later, if you wish to pursue things of that nature." He looked up from my file. "I just asked, because he was the first person you mentioned today."

"He was?"

Rajan nodded with a smile. "You mentioned jogging with him."

"Oh…"

I stepped over in front of the couch. For a moment, I tried to remember what exactly I had said about Nathan. I hope it didn't seem like I wanted to rip his clothes off, as that was clearly not the case. Nathan was just a nice guy I thought about all the time. If anything, there was a mild attraction, but nothing major. Before I knew it, I found myself sinking into the large cushions of the couch. It actually felt more comfortable to sit, even after my shot, rather than walk around.

"It's okay to have feelings for someone," Rajan said. "Even if those feelings are completely at a level far below attraction, love, or intimacy." He paused for a brief moment. "It's healthy and normal to have stronger feelings for someone you feel can be there for you. From what I've gathered, Nathan is a good friend and an easily accessible shoulder to cry on. Not that you necessarily cry on anyone's shoulder. Just in a manner of speaking."

"Well I guess if you put it that way," I said. "I guess I do have feelings for him."

"Understandably so," Rajan said. "Nathan would probably be the type to stick around. That is if what you tell me about him is accurate."

"I've got no reason to lie about it," I said.

"I'm not saying you are," Rajan said, and quickly changed the subject. "How are you doing at school?"

"The same," I said.

"Any new friends?"

"Sort of," I said, "but it's another girl."

"Who is she?"

"The girl who gave Tiffany the letter," I said. "We sort of hung out after, but she's an eighth grader." I sighed. "She thinks I'm a girl though."

"Ah," Rajan said. "You find this upsetting?"

"Well," I said. "I don't like to lie to people, or hide this secret I have. I feel torn though, because if some people knew about it… well… it could really change things."

"I understand," Rajan said, "but it could be more harmful in the long-term to hold back on telling them."

"It seems like the more I try to be honest with people, the more people I find myself having to be honest with," I said. "It's like they just keep popping up, and I constantly have to reveal my secret to someone."

"I see," Rajan said. "In respect to that, are you still finding it difficult to bond with other boys?"

"They'd just as soon pick on me," I said, looking at my knees. "I still get called names at school."

"Have any of them done physical harm to you?" Rajan asked.

"Not really," I said. "A few push me around."

"I'm sorry that's happening," Rajan said. "How do you feel when they call you names?"

"I've learned to tune it out for the most part," I said. "I mean… it's still hurtful, but they're just words." I sighed. "It's just…"

"Take your time," Rajan said, after a long silence.

"Well when they do it around other people," I said, "sometimes those people get into it too." I looked at the window. "Nobody really comes to my defense, or stops it."

"Have you talked to the teachers, or principal?"

"That never helps. They'd just tease me more after telling on them," I said. "I figure if it just stays teasing, I can try to handle it myself."

"Do you think it would be worse if you were a girl?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "Megan seems to do okay with it."

"Megan Seong?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Do you get to talk to Megan about these things?"

"Not as much as I'd like to," I said.

Rajan sat up straighter. "I'm not allowed to discuss other cases," he said, "but if I think it will help both of you, which in this case I think it will, I feel I should offer you a little insight in regards to Megan." He paused for a moment. "Megan is deeply introverted when it comes to her condition."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"If you're wanting to know more about her," Rajan said. "I might suggest finding a long, quiet moment to talk to her about it." He looked a bit concerned about divulging as little information as he had. "A few brief talks, while surrounded by the group, won't bring much out of her I'm afraid."

I sat in silence for a moment. My mind now focused on possible ways to get Megan alone. Even our longest talks were no more than ten minutes. Rajan was right too. They were usually squeezed into the middle of a girls' night out. Normally they didn't garnish very much information about her condition either.

Of course I didn't know much about her. What had I been thinking? That wasn't any way to get the answers I was looking for. I had to find a quiet moment to share with Megan. It had to be a moment like Nathan and I had shared in the park. Damn it! Why did my mind go back to Nathan again?

"What are you thinking about?" Rajan asked.

I shifted nervously. "Honestly?"

"Preferably," Rajan said.

"I was thinking about Nathan again," I said, adding a small sigh after.

Rajan smiled. "Anything in particular?"

"I was just thinking about how he talked to me at the park," I said. "It was quiet there, and I was thinking maybe something like that to talk to Megan."

"That actually sounds nice," Rajan said. "Though I'm afraid park weather is shortly slipping away." He looked out the window.

"I hate winter," I said, not knowing why I had said it.

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Just the cold," I said.

"No other particular reason?" Rajan asked.

"None that I can recall," I said.

"I thought maybe there was another reason," Rajan said. "I'm a little surprised though. Usually kids love winter. With the snowball fights and sledding."

"I was never really good at either," I said, with a slight chuckle.

"Do you think stereotypical hang-ups like those keep you from having fun?" Rajan asked.

"I'm not sure what you mean," I said.

"I'm saying," Rajan said. "Do you think you have to be good at something to have fun?"

"Well it sure helps," I said.

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't think anyone wants to be the loser," I said.

"Well sometimes it's not about winning," Rajan said. "You shouldn't let your physical characteristics keep you from having fun." He folded his hands together, and leaned across his desk. "I'd like to discuss your treatments a little now."

"Okay," I said.

"We took some blood today," Rajan said. "We'll do tests on that to determine changes in hormone levels, and also multiple other factors. Basically we want to see what affect the first two months of treatment has had on your body."

I nodded solemnly.

"That being said," Rajan said. "We'll keep an eye on developmental things, like growth and signs of male secondary sex characteristics." He sat back and looked at my chart. "Everything checks out for you physically. So I see no reason why treatment can't continue, but we'll wait for the blood work to come back. Then we can determine what to do with dosage and other factors."

"What if…" I choked out while finding a break in Rajan's explanation.

Rajan looked up at me. "Go on."

"What if I wanted to stop?" I asked.

"Stop treatment?" Rajan looked concerned. "I'd ask you what the reason was for the change of heart."

"I like…" I glanced at the window. "What if I wanted to stay like this for a while?"

"Are you thinking you made the wrong choice?"

My eyes became misty as I turned to look at Rajan. "I may have made my decision while only thinking about my family," I said. "The truth is, I like being able to switch back and forth." I looked at the floor. "I just thought maybe if I could stay like this as long as possible…"

"That maybe by your own volition you'd come to a sound decision?" Rajan asked.

I nodded quietly.

"Well we can certainly discuss it," Rajan said. "However, I'd like to wait for your blood work to come back."

"Really?"

"Yes," Rajan said. "I'd have to determine what changes have already occurred, and would possibly have to taper off your current treatment."

"I would like that," I said.

"If you still feel this way next time we meet," Rajan said, "I'll be more than happy to discuss options with you." He rubbed his chin. "Why don't you keep track of how you feel about it day to day in your diary? That way you can get a somewhat objective opinion on where you stand."

"Okay," I said. "Do I need to bring it with me?"

"No," Rajan said. "That's not necessary. Just look at it before you come in, and try to determine where you see yourself the majority of the time."

"I can do that," I said.

"I've already talked to Tom, and got you scheduled for another appointment November third," Rajan said. "It's the Monday after Halloween." He looked up at me with a knowing smile. "The blood work should be back from the lab well before then, but I want you to enjoy the holiday. I know this will throw off your treatment schedule, but we may change it completely by then anyhow."

Why did he have to say Halloween? I had enough to worry about. Now I would be thinking about the stupid costume Tiffany picked out to surprise me with. Her hints were as vague as possible to keep me thinking about it. I didn't even have a clue about what I was going to wear. If I couldn't figure that out, how in the world could I figure this out?

"I hope we can get everything straightened out for you Bailey," Rajan said. "Any plans for Halloween?"

I could tell he was trying to get me to leave on a bright note. "I'm going to a party with some of my friends," I said. "Nothing really big."

"Got a costume picked out?"

"Sort of," I said.

"Halloween's the best holiday to be someone or something you're not," Rajan said, standing from his desk and stepping around in front of it. "Might as well have some fun with it."

"I guess so," I said, slipping my sneakers on without untying them. "Though it's hard to figure out how to be something you're not, when you're not sure what you are to start with."

"Just have fun, and stay safe," Rajan said. "I'll see you in November Bailey."

"Thanks," I said, scooting out of the couch. "See you then."

Rajan extended his hand, and I shook it halfheartedly. He held his other hand behind me, though not touching my back, as he ushered me outside of the office. I stepped out into the small inner waiting room. They had it decorated a bit more inviting than the larger reception area out front. It actually boasted a comfortable red couch and bigger plush chairs to sit in.

Tom stood off to one side with Jennifer. Her neatly manicured hands, complete with French tipped nails, moved around in overly animated gestures. It looked like she was directing air traffic as she talked to Tom. Her head joined in, bobbing up and down along with some of her gestures. I watched the loose strands of her red hair, that weren't tied up, bounce around like gently coiled springs.

"So I would suggest more fruit and vegetables. Especially dark, leafy greens," Jennifer said. "Peaches are a favorite of mine. Milk or other low fat dairy products."

"Hey Bailey," Tom said, after noticing me come out of Rajan's office.

Jennifer spun around. "Hey sport," she said. "You all set?"

"Yes," I said, perhaps displaying, a bit too boldly, my intrigue with their conversation.

"Well you be safe for Halloween," Jennifer said. "I'll see you next month. Okay?"

I nodded to her, and watched her walk down the hall to another room. "What were you talking about?" I asked my stepfather.

"Oh," Tom said. "I asked her if there was anything we could do to help you out at home." He sighed. "Basically she just gave me the diet and exercise riot act."

"Rajan said I should start jogging," I said.

"That's not a bad idea," Tom said, while opening the door out to the reception area for me. "A little exercise never hurt anybody."

I laughed inwardly at Tom's statement. He should have tacked on "but me" to the end of it. Tom happened to be the epitome of laziness outside of work, and in general seemed very anti-exercise. My mother had several workout tapes at her disposal, but she seldom got time to use them anymore. Tom stayed away from those like they had some incurable disease attached to the casing. He deemed them "too girly to take seriously" at one point.

"I thought maybe I could jog with Nathan," I said.

"Well you can ask him," Tom said. "You hungry?" he asked, as we settled into the seat of his work truck.

"Not really," I said, pulling at the seat buckle.

Tom's truck used to be a shiny silver Ford. He never took the time to take care of it though. Sure, every so often, on a sunny day, he'd get outside and wash it. As for the most part, he kept it firmly looking like a work truck. I didn't care for the thing, as it rode rough and sounded hollow and cold inside. The silver appeared dull now, almost gray. Unfortunately, if it lasted long enough, it would be mine when I turned sixteen. Tom had already said as much, as he wanted a new truck at that time.

If I had gotten to choose, I would've chosen Tom's 1988 Chevy Caprice. It was somewhat ugly, with the box shape and copper color, but at least it wasn't this truck. However, Tom had given it to my brother, Justin, when he turned sixteen. Justin became one of the lucky juniors to actually get to drive to school. Most of his junior friends didn't have a car, so he was pretty fortunate to have even an old one.

I also couldn't turn down my own personal vehicle. Even if it was ugly, I would be able to escape in it. Maybe I could even doll it up. The interior, as well as the exterior, needed a lot of work. Once black seats had faded into a dusty dark gray, and the vinyl cracked and sometimes pinched your legs. The gun rack on the back window would definitely have to go. At least he didn't let our dog, Buckles, ride in the front anymore. Tom had made an insulated box, that fit in the bed, for him to ride in when he went hunting. So the interior did smell better after a time.

"How about a Sprite?" Tom asked. "I'm going to stop and get a cheeseburger."

"That's fine I guess," I said.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing," I said.

Tom looked at me for a moment. I saw his exasperated expression from the corner of my eye. He let out a frustrated sigh as he turned away. After starting the truck, and putting the gear selector in reverse, he glanced at me again. I couldn't tell if he was mad, or just upset that I wouldn't talk to him. He usually thought the worst in every situation.

"Look," Tom said. "You don't have to talk to me about your problems." He put his arm behind my shoulders as he backed out. "I just hope you're talking about them to someone." Before he pulled his arm away, he gave me a jostle, like a half-hug. "Regardless of what you might think, I actually do care about you."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm just thinking about something Rajan said." I paused, not wanting to talk about it. "A sprite sounds good."

"Wanna share some fries?"

"Sure," I said, looking at him with a subtle smile.

"I didn't get a chance to ask you about Friday," Tom said. "Did you get the mall out of your system?"

"I don't think that will happen for a long time," I said. "We had fun though."

"Well that's good," Tom said. "What did you all end up doing?"

"Mostly talked," I said.

"Your mom said you brought in a shopping bag," Tom said. "I hope you didn't blow your allowance in one spot."

"Actually that was free stuff," I found myself blurting out.

"Oh…" We pulled up to a traffic light. "How'd you manage that?" he asked.

Tom seemed in a pleasant mood. I thought if he was this interested, he wouldn't be mad if I told the truth about Friday. The one thing that really pissed Tom off happened to be lying to him. Though at the same time, I really didn't want to explain my adventure to him. He just wasn't the type of person I felt comfortable talking to about it. I decided to give it a shot anyway. He knew I went out as a girl that night.

"There's a new place at the mall called 'Tweens," I said. "They sell clothes to boys and girls around my age." I studied Tom's unflinching face. "Mostly they target kids who are ten to thirteen."

"Oh I get it," Tom said, chuckling a bit. "They're between kid and teenager." He glanced at me. "Well the name makes sense now, but how you got free clothes doesn't."

We pulled out into the intersection to turn left. Apparently we were bypassing the usual after-appointment place, McDonald's, to the right. Tom got into the right lane. His intended fast food restaurant of choice became evident, as I looked at the Wendy's sign ahead. I thought I should keep from stalling as much as possible, and just let it all out like a flood.

"Once a month they pick out some kids to model their clothes, or go around handing out coupons in the mall," I said. "Tiffany and I got chosen to model, because someone saw us at the pool party." I paused, cringing and expecting him to lash out at me, but he didn't even say a word. "They don't pay, but they let us keep some of the clothes we model."

"Sounds…" Tom appeared to be mulling it over, as we turned into the Wendy's parking lot. "Like a good deal," he finally said. "I assume you stayed a girl to do it?"

"Yes," I said. "You're not mad are you?"

"Why would I be mad?"

Why would he be mad? I could think of a hundred and one reasons why he would be mad. Seeing as how Tom got pissed the first time he saw me dressed like a girl, and forced me to wear panties all summer. Why would he be mad? I could feel a bit of anger building inside of me, but I held my tongue. There was no reason to get into trouble after all of this.

"I just thought…" I said. "You know? With the summer and all."

"It's just a relapse," Tom said. "I'm sure it's nothing, really, and besides…" He glanced at me before rolling down his window to order. "I said I would let you run with this if you would see Doctor Dinesh. Sure you don't want anything else?"

I shook my head, and he turned toward the speaker. For a moment I sat and thought this over, as Tom just ordered a cheeseburger meal with a Sprite. Obviously the point of meeting a specialist was finding out which direction to take. Though Tom, along with others, could definitely give their input to the situation, I realized it was ultimately my choice. What I struggled with was the fact of not knowing which choice would be right for me in the long run.

"Did you at least have fun?" Tom asked, after pulling away from the speaker.

"I had a great time," I said. "I'd actually like to do it again."

"Well then you should," Tom said.

Our conversation was put on hold, as Tom paid for our food. He handed me the drink, and put the bag of food next to my school bag on the seat. I quickly found the straw and put it in my drink, glad to have something to sip on after all of the talking. As Tom drove away, and turned us toward home, there was an awkward silence between us. I assumed he'd have twenty more questions for me.

"Susan is working late again tonight," Tom said. "So you can make yourself a sandwich or something later, whenever you feel like eating."

"Okay," I said.

"I assume I won't be seeing you much tonight," Tom said. "I'm having some guys over for the football game."

"Oh," I said. "I'll probably just hang out in my room."

Tom chuckled. "I figured." He glanced over at me. "Don't you have some guys you can hang out with?"

"No," I said, almost as quiet as a whisper.

"What about the Stanley's kid down the street?"

"He's in the fifth grade," I said.

"Oh…" Tom said. "Too cool for him now huh?"

"We just don't have that much in common," I said.

"Well I'm sure you'll make some more friends soon enough," Tom said.

"What's Justin doing tonight?"

"He's going to Nathan's house for the game." Tom slapped the steering wheel. "Hey! Why don't you ask him to tag along?"

"I don't know," I said. "You said not to hang around Justin and his football friends."

"I said don't be roughhousing with them," Tom said. "You should ask him at least."

"I'll think about it," I said.

Think about it I did, but I never asked. After polishing off my part of the fries, I retreated to my room to finish my homework. In reality, I didn't have that much, but I made Tom think I did, so I could get some alone time. He spent most of his time getting ready for his company, and I really didn't feel like tidying up the house. They usually just left the living room trashed anyway.

In the tranquil solitude of my room, I got bored. Once I had finished my homework, there really wasn't much else to do. After running through all the usual things to do, I found myself settling down on my bed, with everything needed to paint my toenails a pretty metallic true blue. I pulled my socks off and cleaned the old polish off. Before long I had my toes in spacers, and was carefully applying the blue polish.

After a bit of mental debate, I decided to paint my fingernails too. I figured I'd be in my room the rest of the night, and nobody would see them. In fact, nobody would see me if I dressed up, but I didn't know for sure if I wanted to do that. There could be some emergency where I would have to be seen by my stepfather's company. Nail polish was one thing, but trying to explain away dressing like a girl was quite another.

I didn't even hear my brother get home. Maybe I got lost in what I was doing, or the fumes got to my head, but somehow I missed him. It wasn't until I heard him call out he was leaving, and closing the front door, that I realized he had been home. I hurried over to my window, and looked out. As I looked down, I could see my brother walking up the street toward Nathan's house.

Oddly enough there happened to be ample daylight still. I turned to look at my trusty digital clock, and it read six o'clock. The game didn't start for another two hours. Maybe he wanted to do something before it, or get away from Tom. I could understand the latter, but I still felt bad about not getting a chance to see Justin before he left. I had actually considered suffering through the football game to spend some time with him.

I continued to stare out the window for a moment. My brother disappeared from view, and my mother pulled into the driveway. She struggled with the door, finally kicking it open. Her gracefulness returned as she exited the vehicle. I don't think she noticed me watching at all. She shut the car door, and walked right up the stairs to our front door. I thought about tapping on the window and waving, but it seemed less childish to just go greet her.

"I'm home!" my mother shouted up the stairs.

"Hey!" Tom said. "You're home early."

"We got a little caught up today," my mother said. "So we decided not to stay late."

"Well Justin took off to Nathan's for the night," Tom said, "and Bailey's in his room."

"Actually I'm right here," I said, stepping out of the hallway.

"Oh good," my mother said, looking up at me. "Could you go to the…" She stopped and looked at my feet. "Oh… you don't have any shoes on."

"What is it?"

"I left a box of papers in the trunk," she said. "I can get it though."

"No," I said, hurrying down the stairs. "I'll get it."

I reached her at the bottom of the stairs, and gave her a hug. She played with my hair for a moment afterwards, while looking me over. Then she lifted my hands up. She spent a little while looking at my fingernails. Finally she lifted her head and smiled at me. I returned the smile.

"Going somewhere tonight?" she asked, gesturing at the nails.

I shook my head. "Just felt like it."

"Well I like the color," she said. She dropped my hands. "I thought maybe you were doing something with the girls to get away from the house tonight."

"I thought maybe I could go to Nathan's," I said. "Tom said it was okay."

"I don't care if you do," she said. "You'll be right down the street."

She handed me her keys. Then she stepped out of my way, and started up the stairs. I opened the front door. After a quick check to see if there were any onlookers, I scurried down the steps to my mother's car. The concrete felt cold beneath my feet. I started to regret my decision to come out barefoot.

It didn't stop me from my objective though. I reached my mother's car and unlocked the trunk. The box in her trunk wasn't as heavy as I thought it would be. It only had a few folders full of papers inside of it. I grabbed the box, shut the trunk, and quickly made it back into the house. Tom and my mother were talking when I came in.

"I'm not sure," my mother said. "I can ask."

"Well I think it would be smart to find out," Tom said.

My mother heard me come in, and stepped over to the top of the stairs. "Were you going to go over to Nathan's dressed as a girl?" she asked me. Her questioned seemed rather blunt.

I set the box down in the entryway. "I hadn't thought about it," I said. "Probably not." I started up the stairs.

"Well we don't care if you do," my mother said.

Tom stepped over next to her. "The guys are going to be here in a little more than an hour," he said. "We figured you wouldn't want them to see you dressed."

In the world of Tom's backwards speak, I knew what this really meant. It wasn't that I didn't want them to see me dressed. I didn't care as far as that went. Sure, they would give me one hell of a hard time about it. However, it wouldn't be like they'd gang up on me and beat me down in front of Tom. At least I didn't think they would.

The truth was, Tom didn't want the guys to see me dressed. I had known this since I started doing it. In fact, the first time Tom caught me dressed, he didn't want the guys at his local hardware store to see me. What hurt the most, was that he couldn't just come out and say it. He couldn't say he was embarrassed about my behavior, in front of the guys, or anyone he knew for that matter. He couldn't even say it to me.

"You wouldn't be mad if I wanted to?" I asked.

"Heavens no," my mother said.

"Just make up your mind quick," Tom said, before walking off.

My mother stood and looked at me for a moment. She and I had been in this weird dodgy state lately. We still talked about school, my doctor visits, my friends and general life. However, when it came to the subject of my girlish side, she seemed interested, but wasn't as pushy about it as before. To complicate matters, I hardly wanted to discuss it with her. In my mind, she still had helped compound the problem over the summer, and she just didn't understand why I felt like doing it sometimes.

"Why don't you take a quick shower?" she asked. "Maybe it'll help you decide."

I nodded, a bit absentmindedly, as I came to the top of the stairs. My mother turned into the kitchen without saying another word. If it had been the old way, she would have jumped at the opportunity to make me all girly for the night. I was mostly to blame for the way we were now. It was me that pushed her away. I basically told her to butt out of my life.

I dragged myself to my bedroom. The fading sun illuminated my dresser. All the glittery and sparkly feminine things I'd collected came to life on top. There wasn't any need to hide them, as I never had anyone in my room that didn't know about my other side. Since I needed permission to have anyone over anyway, I figured if I had to hide them, I'd have plenty of time to do it.

I stepped over to my dresser and opened up the second drawer from the top. After a bit of rummaging, I settled on a pair of pale pink panties covered with strawberries. As with most of my other panties, they were bikini cut. I very seldom got another style, as I had taken favor with bikini cut, but I did have a few other styles in my collection. For some reason, I found myself staring in a daze at my drawer full of feminine undergarments.

"I like those," my mother said from my doorway.

I jumped at her voice. "Mom!" I said, turning to face her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to startle you, but it's not like you're naked." She folded her arms across her chest. "And the door was open, so you can't yell at me for not knocking."

"What do you want?" I asked, closing the drawer to my dresser.

"I just wanted to talk to you," she said. "Before you run off." She frowned. "I hardly get to see you."

"Oh…" I said, walking over to look in my closet. "What did you want to talk about?"

My mother walked over and sat on my bed. "I heard you were a little down after your appointment today," she said.

I flipped through a few shirts. "Mom…" I said, turning to face her. "Do you want a daughter?"

She sat up straight. A long silence filled the room. My mother looked like her head was about to explode, from all the conflicting thoughts I'm sure were running through her mind. Eventually, she placed her hands calmly in her lap. Her expression turned straight-faced, and her blue eyes filled with a look of concern and sincerity. She took a deep breath before answering me.

"I want you to be happy," she finally said.

I frowned at her completely unremarkable answer. "I don't know if I can be happy," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"Every time I think I want to go one way," I said, walking over closer to her, "I feel like going the other way."

"Do you feel like you're being pushed a certain way?" she asked, holding her hand out.

"Sometimes," I said, taking her hand. Soon I was sitting next to her. "It just feels like I have to be a boy, but some things in my life won't let me."

"I think we make it sound too easy to choose," she said. "Myself included." She gave me another concerned look. "There are consequences to either choice." She put her arm around my shoulders. "Being a girl would bring just as many challenges with it as being a boy. I'm not going to lie and say life would get easier for you."

"I know I wouldn't have to hide it all the time," I said.

"That's true," she said. "However, you'll find you have to hide other things."

"Like what?"

"Well you don't just change overnight," she said. "You'll be having to hide the fact that you were born male for possibly several more years." She rested her head against mine. "This could destroy relationships, and possibly bring you some undesired attention from people who don't understand your condition."

"It sounds a lot rougher than the other way," I said.

"Yes," she said, "and no. If you chose to be a boy, just because you thought it would make everyone else happy, you would be causing yourself harm. You might find yourself building up years of regret based on your decision." She kissed me gently on the top of the head. "Unless you can come to grips with either choice. Then you may realize the hardships were worth it all in the end." She kissed me again. "You just have to be strong, and steadfast in your decision."

"What if I can't?" I asked. "What if I wanted someone to choose for me?"

"Honey," she said. "Nobody can choose for you. They can throw you whichever way they want, and maybe pick where you land from time to time." She pulled me closer with a hug. "You might even feel stuck with what they decide for you. They might even break your spirit, but they can't dictate to you what's in your heart."

"But what about Tom?" I asked.

"Tom…"

"Hasn't been entirely honest with you," Tom said.

My eyes darted up to see Tom standing in my doorway.

"I guess I was just scared for you," Tom said, "or scared of something else." He looked down at the floor. "It's just that women are…" He scratched the back of his head. "They just need more protection, and I didn't know if I could provide that for you." His eyes came up to greet mine. "I thought if I could…" He sighed, dropping his hand to his thigh with a small slap. "Bailey… you be whoever you want to be."

I watched Tom leave. Confusion welled up inside of me. What the hell was he hiding? My mother continued to hold me close to her. I couldn't escape her Chanel Allure perfume as it lingered somewhere in the air beneath my nose. It had become her distinctive new scent, and wouldn't leave for years to come.

"Is Tom not telling me something?" I asked.

"I'm sure he'll tell you when he thinks the time is right," my mother said. She looked over at the clock. "Why don't you go take your shower?"

"I still haven't decided how to go tonight," I said.

"Well…" My mother helped me sit up. "Has Nathan ever seen you as a boy?"

I had to think about this for a moment. He had seen me undressed before, but I had panties on. Did I want to tell her about that, along with my breakdown at the time? Did this even count in the first place? I started to assume it didn't, as he helped me get dressed as a girl soon after. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Nathan hadn't truly seen me as a boy. I started to wonder if he even wanted to, or if I wanted him to for that matter. Slowly I shook my head.

"Why don't you let me pick something out for you?" my mother asked.

I didn't argue. Instead I nodded, removed myself from the bed, and headed for the bathroom. The warm water felt relaxing, cascading down my small body. Only the color of my nails added a splash of true femininity to my otherwise neutral physique. It was truly a wonder why I hadn't pursued the other side of the gender spectrum more seriously. Anyone looking at me at that moment could honestly say I could go either way.

In my world, bombarded almost daily with choices to make, I discovered most decisions were easy. They came natural most of the time. Sure, they were mundane choices, and not life-altering ones, but anyone taking note would see that I chose naturally feminine things. Even the shampoo, I now massaged into my wavy blonde hair, had been chosen for scent over function. Little choices like this kept me second guessing myself all of the time.

It didn't seem to bother me at the moment though. I finished my shower, patted myself dry like I had been doing since the pool party, and stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror. My summer tan had almost disappeared, but I subconsciously reached for a bottle of hydrating lotion. Ever since Theresa's suggestion at the spa, it had become routine to apply it to my body when possible after a shower. Since it made me and my skin feel good, and did no harm to anyone else, I kept on doing it. Though I had switched to a more neutral scent than cherry.

I thought for a moment about doing something to my hair. It just sort of sat there on my head, wet and stringy. I even thought about asking my mom to teach me how to curl it, but remembered I was short on time. Maybe she could teach me later. I decided to just dry it and brush it out, and though it didn't look special, it did get some of its body back. After messing with it a few more minutes, I brushed my teeth, put on deodorant, slipped on my panties, and sneaked out across the hall to my bedroom.

My mother's choice of outfit seemed a bit odd at first. I figured she would go all out girly with it, but quite the contrary. Most of it appeared masculine in nature, except for the plain white padded bra and tights almost the same color as my nails. The mixture of masculine and feminine attire confused me. Did she want me to choose? That would defeat the purpose of her choosing for me.

Obviously my mother wanted me to wear it all together. As I continued to look over the odd choices, my mother's intentions finally dawned on me. She had picked out an outfit that would be comfortable enough to put me in either role I wanted to be. I quickly slipped the bra on, and sat down on my bed. After pulling the tights on, I looked over the rest of the outfit.

If I didn't know any better, I would've thought the white t-shirt she picked out to be something I wore when I was eight. It looked small, and seemed pretty tight around the shoulders and bust when I finally put it on. In the top center of the t-shirt, now stretched across my fake breasts, sat a blue star. I took notice of the odd trend in the color blue, thinking it had something to do with my nail color.

Now came the odd part. While I had continued to wear panties continuously since the summer, I had never worn anything else considered feminine under my normal boy clothes. As I prepared to do it now, it felt like I was covering up a dirty secret. I held a pair of my old jeans in my hand. They looked distressed, faded, with holes worn in the knees, and the bottom hems all frayed in the back from catching the heels of my shoes.

Another issue I took with dressing like this, was how Nathan would react. I slipped on the jeans, over my tights, while reflecting on how Nathan perceived me. He never really saw me as a boy, but now he would see me pretending to be one. The jeans were a bit snug, hugging at my thighs, calves and bottom. I fastened them around my waist, and took notice of the blue tights showing through the bottom and the holes in the knees.

"Well," my mother said, stepping in my doorway. "What do you think?"

I turned toward her, still looking at my jeans. "It feels kind of weird."

"Really?" she asked. "How so?"

"It just feels like I'm covering something up," I said.

"Oh," she said. "I just thought it would be comfortable and kind of tomboyish." She leaned against the doorframe. "Besides… it's the Cowboys and Redskins tonight."

"What does that have to do with it?" I asked.

My mother's smile dropped. "Nathan is from Dallas." She paused, but could tell I was still clueless. "Dallas Cowboys?"

"Oh…" I said, finally getting it… sort of. "Is that what this is?" I asked, gesturing at the outfit.

She held back a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. "Honey…" she said. "If you want to get closer to Nathan, I suggest you learn a little bit about what he likes." She stepped over to my dresser, and started picking through things on top. "I thought you knew, given the nail color you picked."

"I just thought it was pretty," I said.

"Well," she said. "Blue, silver and white are the Cowboy's colors." She turned to face me. "And their logo is that blue star you're sporting."

I felt pretty stupid at that point. The whole time I had thought she picked out some odd blue grunge-based theme to go with my nails. I didn't even consider that she had picked out something casual tomboy, sporting Nathan's favorite team's colors. Not to mention that word confused me more than anything else. How could one be a tomboy without first being a girl? You had to be a girl who acted boyish in order to pull that off. Yet, my mother had assumed the girl part before the boy again.

"I just thought since you did your fingernails too," my mother said, as if reading my mind. "You felt like being a little girlish tonight."

"I really hadn't planned on going anywhere," I said, looking at my nails. I now realized her assumption at least had some merit to it.

"Well you don't have to," she said, "but I think you'd have fun."

She held up a tube of lipstick. I watched her roll the color out of the tube, and saw she chose a subtle pink color. For a moment I glanced back and forth from the lipstick to the come-on-and-do-it look across her face. I smiled, realizing it was actually what I wanted, not what she wanted. With a shrug, I invited her to apply the lipstick to my lips. Maybe I had misjudged her before, as she didn't really come off as pushy. She just wanted to see me happy, and thought this made me happy.

"There," she said, finishing up the application. "You look cute."

"What about my hair?"

My mother looked over at the clock. "There's no time to really do anything," she said. "How about…"

She stepped back over to my dresser. For a few minutes, she rummaged through my collection on top. Then she came back over to me with a smile on her face. She held up a silver scrunchie, and had me turn around. After a few seconds, she had me turning back around. In the mirror, over my dresser, I could see my hair put up in a high ponytail. Wavy strands of my dirty blonde hair exploded from the silver accessory holding the ponytail snuggly in place.

"Would you like me to show you how to curl and style your hair?" my mother asked.

"Now?"

"Not now," she said. "We don't have time. How about this weekend?"

"Sure," I said. "I've actually wanted to learn how to style it by myself."

"Well if that's the case, we can pick some styles to try from magazines."

"Sounds like fun," I said.

"Well put the sweatshirt on, and wear your Keds." she said. "I'll be right back with something to cap it all off."

The sweatshirt she referred to, happened to be a tremendously oversized true blue one. With the hood up on it, I probably could've covered my head twice. It dwarfed me, feeling like a short dress, as it almost came down to my knees. My mother returned a few moments after I donned it, and had to hold back a few giggles. She held up a white hat with a blue star on the front of it.

"I can't believe how much bigger Justin is than you," she said. "We might have to start buying you your own clothes after all."

She put the hat on my head, and adjusted it so that my ponytail, along with the scrunchie, stuck out of the hole in the back. After playing with my hair for a bit, she seemed satisfied at the look. She stood and watched me for a moment, as I put on the shoes she suggested. They were plain white Keds, a pair of canvas low-tops. Though they seemed pretty basic, they were more feminine than masculine. I felt they fit the theme rather well.

"Listen," my mother said. "Your brother is spending the night over there. So I don't mind if you want to as well."

"Really?!" I asked. My eyes filled with a bit of excitement. It wasn't often I got to do things with the "cool" high school kids.

She gave me a stern look. "Just behave yourself, and keep in mind how Nathan perceives you. Even with your brother there, he could still get some ideas in his head." She slipped a house key, along with my lipstick, into the front right pocket of my jeans. "I don't care if Tom's company is still here or not. Come home if you don't feel comfortable. Okay?"

"Okay," I said.

"But most importantly," she said, "have fun!"

I shared a brief hug with her. She left the room before me, and kept Tom busy in the kitchen. I managed to slip out of the house without saying a word to him. It wasn't like I tried to avoid him. I just saw an opportunity to slip out of the house, without a judgmental assessment of my attire, and I took it. Tom had a way of bringing you down when you felt like things were going fine.

The street seemed empty. It had reached that point of the year, where all the younger kids headed inside early to avoid the chilly night. There wasn't another kid my age on my street, so I never felt concerned with being found out in my own neighborhood. My school bus skipped a whole two streets to get to the closest junior high student, and it happened to be an eighth grade girl. She probably would've been friends with me, rather than cause any problems.

Nathan's house sat where the street wrapped around a curve. I could only see the back of it from our house. It had a soft gray color. There was very little trim on the house, but what was there had a darker gray, almost green, color to it. The house happened to be a split-level ranch, like our own, which were very common in our neighborhood. Yet the front stairs of Nathan's house were steeper than most of the other houses.

It felt like I climbed a mountain to get to his front door. Through the window, to the right, I could see the television going in the front room. There were no cars in the driveway, so I assumed his parents weren't home yet. Their garage housed a small boat and his stepfather's workshop. He liked to tinker with wood, and make small things to sell on the side. If only my stepfather had something to keep him busy, maybe he wouldn't busy himself with me.

I reached for the doorbell. It felt kind of odd being here. I had never seen the inside of Nathan's house. The only reason I knew about the boat and workshop in the garage, was because it happened to be open the one time Justin brought me with him to pick up Nathan. They were on their way to the movies, and Justin was nice enough to drop me off at Tiffany's on the way. It was yet another time Nathan saw me as a girl, as I was headed to the mall with the girls. The door swung open in front of me.

"What are you selling?" Nathan asked, from the other side of the glass storm door. "Oh…" He pushed the storm door open and stood in the doorway. "Hey Bailey. I hardly recognized you."

I pulled the hood down off of my head. "It was my mom's idea," I said, a bit uncertain now about the choice in outfit.

"You look cute," Nathan said. "Sorry about before. I just had someone come by selling magazine subscriptions."

"No problem," I said.

"Though that still begs the question," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to watch the game with you and Justin," I said. "If you'll let me…"

"Oh…" Nathan said, moving out of the doorway. "Uh… sure! Come on in."

I stepped into the entryway. It wasn't split-level inside like ours, but rather continued on into the living room to the right. The ceiling in the living room was a high vaulted ceiling, with a loft, on the left side, over the bottom of a stairwell. It allowed for someone to sit up in the loft and view what was going on in the living room below. All three bedrooms were upstairs, and they had an unfinished half basement, which had been converted into a makeshift recreation room.

"I didn't mean to just invite myself," I said, "but Tom is having company over, and I felt--"

"It's really no problem," Nathan said. "I just…" He scratched the back of his head. "Are you hungry?"

"A little," I said.

"I was boiling some water for mac and cheese," Nathan said. "Not the greatest thing to eat, but--"

"Sounds good," I said, giving him a friendly smile.

Nathan closed the front door and headed for the kitchen. "Make yourself at home," he called back to me through the living room.

"Where's my brother?"

"Huh?" Nathan poked his head back around the wall leading into the kitchen.

"Justin?" I asked, walking over to his couch. "Where is he?"

"Oh…" Nathan came back into the room. "About that…" He took a deep breath. "Your brother isn't here."

"What?" I asked, stopping myself midway from sitting down.

"He went to a concert out of town," Nathan said. "I'm covering for him."

"On a school night?!" I asked. "Is he crazy?"

"That's what I asked him," Nathan said.

"Why didn't he take you?"

"Wasn't my style of music," Nathan said. "Besides, someone obviously has to cover for him." He stepped back into the kitchen. "I mean you found out about it ten minutes after he left."

"But his car is still at home," I said.

"He went with some other guys," Nathan said. "Why don't you come in here?"

"My mom would absolutely kill him if she knew," I said, turning into the kitchen. "Then Tom would kill him again. Twice maybe!"

Nathan chuckled as he stirred the macaroni. "You're not going to tell them are you?"

"I really should," I said. "It would be the right thing to do."

"Then I cannot let you leave here alive," Nathan said, pointing a wooden spoon at me.

I smiled at him, shaking my head in the process. He turned back to the boiling pot. For a moment I watched him, studying his body. His legs were slender, yet muscular, from what I could see. I could only see his calves, as the rest of his legs disappeared underneath his baggy, silver athletic shorts. The shorts were just tight enough to showcase the top half of his nicely shaped bottom.

Up top he seemed every bit as trim. I swear he had less than five percent body fat. He wore a snug white tank top, which hugged his hard body underneath. I knew from putting my hands on him before, that his chest felt like a rock. Yet, he didn't look extremely muscular. His arms and shoulders just looked well-toned, not like some bulging oiled down body builder.

"You know I was kidding," he said over his shoulder. "You can leave if you want."

"No," I said. "I mean… I want to stay."

"Good," Nathan said.

"And I'm not going to tell on Justin," I said, "but he's going to owe me big time."

"You and me both sister," Nathan said.

"Do you always see me as a girl?" I asked.

Nathan turned to face me. "It was just an expression."

"I know that," I said. "Do you though?"

"Well," Nathan said. "Since you asked…" He looked me over. "I see a lot of girl in you."

"No boy at all?"

"Well there's some," he said. "Maybe I'm biased, because of the first time I met you." He turned back to stir the food. "It's just that I got this image in my head now. You're a girl to me, and even more so on the inside."

I eased down into a chair at the table. For a moment I watched Nathan again in silence. He clicked the stove off, and brought the macaroni to the sink to drain. I watched as he mixed the cheese into it. His arm flexing, as he stirred, looked so sexy. I thought of what it would feel like wrapped around my waist. I could imagine the perfect mix of hard and soft, strong and gentle.

"Ginger ale okay?" Nathan asked.

"Huh?" I looked up at him. "Sure. That's fine."

"My mom doesn't keep much else on hand," he said. "We try to keep it mostly healthy around here."

"It's fine," I said. "Where is your mom?"

"She's at my aunt's house until Wednesday morning," Nathan said. "My stepfather is out of town for the week on business." He brought over bowls of food for me and him. "Which is why your brother got so freaking lucky tonight." He looked at me with a smile. "I guess he wasn't the only one though."

I looked away shyly, and Nathan walked over to the refrigerator. When he came back, he had two small bottles of ginger ale in his hands. He set one down, and opened the other. After passing it along to me, he opened his own. I couldn't help but glance at him as he opened the bottles. Even the slight strain of the action caused his forearms to flex a little bit. He had nice forearms too. They were smooth, perfectly shaped, and when he flexed anything he just looked incredibly…

"Hot…" I said, in a gasped whisper.

"What?" Nathan asked, while sitting down.

"The food," I said, quickly covering. "It's a bit hot." I pulled the ginger ale up to my mouth to take a few sips; more for show than anything.

"Oh," Nathan said. "I hope you didn't burn yourself."

"No," I said. "I'm fine."

"You sure are," Nathan said.

He gave me one of those smiles that showed he thought he did something cute, but irresistible enough to let it slide. I shook my head to show it wouldn't work with me, but I smiled to show there was a possibility it could in the future. We ate in silence, neither one of us sure what to say. To be honest, the meal didn't last that long anyway. I mean, two kids with macaroni and cheese is like an auctioneer on fast forward.

Before long I was kicking my shoes off, and curling up on one side of Nathan's couch. He sat on the other side, sprawled out like an old man who just ate a large meal. We looked like polar opposites. The game hadn't come on yet, so we both appeared a bit antsy. I figured with the game on, we wouldn't have to talk much. Which was good, because I figured he would mostly want to hear about me.

Nathan hit the mute button on the pre-game show. When I looked at him, to see why, I found him looking at me. This was going to be a long night, but I decided I needed to stay now. I might have to cover for Justin as well, since Tom or my mother could call to check up on us. Plus I didn't want to go home to Tom's rowdy friends. They all gave me the creeps; kind of like Nathan was doing right now by staring at me.

"Are you comfortable?" Nathan asked.

"Yes," I said. "A little cold, but I'm comfortable."

"No," Nathan said, half smiling. "I mean… are you comfortable as you are right now?"

"You mean as a girl?"

"I mean in your own skin," Nathan said. "Are you comfortable with yourself?"

"I guess," I said. "There's room for improvements though."

Nathan gave me a curious look. "Like what?"

"I'd like to be a little taller," I said.

"How tall are we talking here?" Nathan asked. "Six feet? Seven? Eight?"

"No," I said, almost giggling at his absurdity. "A few inches at most."

"Oh, so you don't wanna be abnormally tall?"

"Not at all," I said. "What about you?"

"I don't want you to be abnormally tall either," Nathan said.

I leaned across the couch in an attempt to punch him teasingly. Instead, Nathan anticipated the small assault, and pulled me over to him. Caught off guard, I initially went into defensive mode and tried to get away. This only managed to get Nathan more into the playful mood. Before long, he had both of my wrists captured in his hands, and had spun me around to where I lay on my back across the couch.

He pulled my arms down toward my waist, and fell over me. My thighs were now trapped beneath his upper body. He shifted his lower body, and I found my head being lifted up toward his. I suddenly realized my head and shoulders were in his lap. Nathan had curled around me in some weird lovers' nest, leaving me helpless in the middle of it. Though it all felt a bit strange, I didn't exactly want to get out of that position.

I don't think Nathan had exactly planned this in any way. He acted as surprised as I did at the odd arrangement of our bodies. I didn't even recoil when he let go of my wrists. He gazed into my eyes with his own pretty chocolate browns. With the most sincere and objective feelings I could muster, I analyzed the situation. What exactly did I feel for Nathan?

"I'm sorry," he said, starting to pull his body off of mine.

My left hand wrapped around what material I could find of his tank top. I pulled him back down over me. He could hardly stay focused on me. All this time Nathan had played the big stud, knowing all the catchy lines to say in every situation, but now he couldn't even focus on me. His eyes darted around like a frightened school of fish. He didn't know how to act. Nathan Riley was actually shy in front of me.

Any other guy would have probably pounced on a girl in this situation. Granted I wasn't a girl, but was I so different from one that a guy wouldn't find my helpless situation appealing enough to jump me? Nathan knew I was a boy. Why was he so timid about this uncharted territory between us? I thought for sure he wanted this more than I did. Wait! Did I want this? His wide eyes continued to search for the reason I latched on to his shirt.

"I'm comfortable," I said, with a sly smile.

Nathan relaxed a little. I let go of his shirt with my left hand, and my right snaked under it on his left side. My fingers slid over each dip and bump of his defined muscles. How could a fourteen-year-old have such a ripped body? I could actually feel his six-pack before ever seeing it. For some reason I wanted to see it though. Nobody would ever have to know about this.

I made a more dedicated effort to push his shirt up. Finally, Nathan took over, and pulled it off over his head. He looked amazing. His chest and abdomen rippled as he brought his arms back down. I felt the weight of his body again on my thighs. If I had to be trapped by a guy, Nathan was definitely high on the list of people I'd want to trap me. He might even be number one on the list.

"You look so good," I said, running my right hand over his chest.

"Not as good as you," Nathan said.

There he was. My sexy Nathan had come back, with all the right things to say. Quite a bit of confidence had returned with him. I felt his left hand roaming beneath my sweatshirt. Soon it had slid under my t-shirt and I felt his palm and fingers caressing the bare flesh of my navel. He tickled my side with his fingertips, as they danced up my body. Almost in sync with the game on television, our little game had kicked off.

As Nathan's hand swirled around the flesh beneath my shirts, my hand continued to go up and down his chest and abdomen. My left hand had soon joined the action, and was moving up and down his right forearm. Before I knew it, he had slipped his thumb under my bra. His thumb found my right nipple, and started moving in small circles around it. At first it did nothing for me, but once I relaxed a little, it started to feel quite pleasurable.

I found myself initiating the next step. For some odd reason, I pulled his right hand toward my waist. As if watching myself from the loft overhead, I pulled my sweatshirt up, and guided Nathan's hand to the button on my jeans. I don't recall even being self-aware of the consequences, but everything fit the moment so perfectly that I didn't want to stop. My mind didn't even know if this was the next step or not, but my body went along with it anyway.

Nathan hesitated for a moment. The thumb of his left hand continued to swirl around my nipple. His fingers of the right hand danced upon the button of my jeans. He looked up at me with those sincere brown eyes, as if to question me on this decision. My upper body twitched, as his thumb on my nipple brought me to some strange new place. I nodded, and watched, as if out of body, while Nathan unfastened my jeans.

We squirmed together upon the couch. With enough patience and perseverance, Nathan managed to release the jeans' hold from around my bottom. Some more squirming followed. Eventually the jeans were pulled down past my knees, and I managed to kick them off the rest of the way. Nathan instantly became fascinated with the tights underneath. He couldn't wait to run his hands up and down my nylon-clad legs.

I closed my eyes for a brief moment. Nathan's thumb went back to my nipple. His right hand roamed my legs, and then eventually moved to my groin. He managed to wedge his hand in between my thighs, and I felt the pressure of his strong hand as he began to massage my genitals beneath. I felt the pressure build and build, until I thought it would burst inside of me. Nathan kept bringing me back to that same spot, over and over.

I didn't open my eyes until the trembling stopped. Nathan reached up and gently removed my hat. As my ponytail finally came untangled from it, I found myself looking up into Nathan's eyes. He gave me the most thoughtful and sincere look. His right hand reached up and caressed my left cheek. For a second, I doubted the next part. Once that second passed, I had no more doubts. I pushed my lips to his, and we kissed. We kissed passionately for a very long time.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...