---

 

---

 

---

---

 

---

 
Part 7

I never quite got used to the rough, stiff gray carpet of Doctor Dinesh's office. No matter how long I stood or walked on it, the stuff had no give to it. It felt like walking on little beads of plastic, but not as smooth. The stuff seemed to scratch at my feet, with only the thin layer of my cotton ankle socks to protect them. I actually preferred the no-slip rubber of the scales I had stepped up onto.

"Alright," Jennifer said. "Let's see here…"

Jennifer happened to be Doctor Dinesh's nurse. As far as I could tell, she was his only nurse. The only other people in his offices were an elderly receptionist, and another doctor I only saw once. He had an office in the back, but I never went to see him. Only in passing had Doctor Dinesh, or Rajan as I liked to call him, introduced me to the man. His last name was Brooks, as I recalled from the introduction and the sign on the front door.

"You've grown about… another quarter inch," Jennifer said, looking at my charts. "Looks like a nice steady pace." She jotted down the info. "Five feet and quarter inch now."

I watched her fiddle around with the scales. Her hazel eyes peered out over thinly framed glasses. They reminded me of Tiffany's eyes, though they were quite a bit brighter. She had her curly red hair pulled up in a tight ponytail. It was pretty typical for her, as I'm sure it was typical for most women in her profession. She glanced up from the numbers and noticed me gazing at her. I shot my eyes away.

"Everything okay?" Jennifer asked.

"I was just noticing your glasses," I said.

"Oh. You like them?" she asked. "I just got them this week."

"They look nice on you," I said. "I didn't know you wore glasses though."

"Just for reading," Jennifer said. "I always lose them though." She smiled at me, and looked down to adjust the scales a bit more. "Up to a hundred even now. That's good." She raised her eyebrow toward me. "Not all Halloween candy I hope."

"No," I said. "I really didn't have that much."

"Have you been eating healthier?" she asked.

"A little bit," I said, recalling my meals at home getting more healthy.

"Started any exercise regimens?"

"I've been meaning to," I said. "There's this boy I'm thinking about jogging with." I paused, a bit ashamed of offering up the information, but she didn't seem to pay much attention to it. "I'm trying to think of a right way to ask him."

Jennifer looked up at me and smiled. "You say, 'can I jog with you?' and set up a schedule with him," she said.

"It's not that simple," I said, blushing a bit.

"Oh," Jennifer said. "I see… Have a bit of a crush on him do we?"

"Sort of," I said, shifting my eyes to the side. "It's complicated."

"I know how that goes," Jennifer said. "Just be direct. He might like the initiative, and you'll get to know him better in the process." She poked me in the belly gently with the eraser of her pencil. "And you'll be getting exercise." Her thin pink lips produced a smile. "Doctor Dinesh is going to be on your case about it next."

"He's already mentioned it," I said.

"Well if he's mentioned in," Jennifer said, "then he wants you to be doing it."

I stepped down from the scales, back onto the rough gray carpet. Jennifer hadn't said anything about where to go, so I stood there and watched her write stuff on my chart. She seemed involved with whatever she had going on, and looked up at me absentmindedly. The silence continued, as she stared blankly like she was looking through me. Then she scribbled something else down. I decided to busy myself with something, and picked up one of my sneakers to put on.

"You can leave those here," Jennifer said, without looking up. "Nobody else will be coming in today." She pointed to an open door down the hall. "If you could step into exam room two, I'll be in there shortly."

I'd never seen Jennifer act this way. She seemed almost robotic in nature. It probably wasn't anything to get worked up about. Maybe she just had a bad day. Usually she was friendlier. She stepped out of my way to let me pass, and I walked down to the exam room. I groaned inwardly as I saw a gown set out on the exam table. This normally meant I had another thorough examination coming.

I hated full examinations. They always made me uncomfortable, yet I knew they were more than likely necessary with my condition. Usually they came once a month. Still, they felt cold and calculated. I was always given the option to have an adult present, but considering my stepfather Tom brought me to most of the appointments, I felt more comfortable not having an adult present. Megan at least gave me some hope, as she claimed full exams were becoming less common for her. She said it was mostly Jennifer checking her development now.

"I'll take your blood pressure," Jennifer said from behind me. She startled me a bit, making me jump. "Then I'd like to take a few measurements before I have you slip into your gown." She closed the door behind her. "Go ahead and remove your shirt and jeans."

Jennifer stepped over to a counter, and started to sift through my paperwork. I casually stepped over to the corner of the room. Even though I'd been through this routine before, Jennifer wasn't ever in the room. I gulped hard, and reached for the button of my jeans. Soon I was stepping out of them, and placing them neatly in the chair. My shirt soon followed, and I turned around to find a waiting Jennifer.

She wasn't staring at me, but merely stood by the table waiting. When she saw me approaching, she patted the edge of the exam table. I stepped up on a stair to help me get up to the table. Meanwhile, Jennifer moved the examination gown onto my lap, and had me sit in its place. She then wrapped a black strap around my arm, and casually pumped it up. Two of her fingers sat on my wrist, to take my pulse.

"Are you nervous?" Jennifer asked.

"A little," I said.

"Try to relax," Jennifer said. "Take a few deep breaths."

I did as Jennifer asked. She checked the reading, and wrote it down in my chart. Then she released the air from the black strap and removed it. After setting it back in the bin, she stepped over in front of me with a cloth tape measure. She gestured for me to come and stand in front of her. I slid from the table and joined her.

"I'll just get these measurements," Jennifer said, taking my gown from me. "Then you can put your gown on."

Jennifer had me stand up as straight as possible. She measured down my left arm, from the top of my shoulder to the tip of my middle finger. Then she repeated the process on my left arm. She jotted these down and returned to measure across from one shoulder to the other. This was definitely a new development, and I wondered why in the world my measurements were being taken. I figured it couldn't hurt anything.

Jennifer returned and had me move my hands up and out straight to my sides. She demonstrated for me to put my feet right next to each other, and I did so. Then she measured around my chest at the nipples. She jotted this down and measured my waist at my bellybutton. The last things she measured were my hips at their widest points, and around my neck. What in the world did she need all of that for?

"Okay," Jennifer said. "You may put your gown on." She turned and busied herself with my records. "Doctor Dinesh will be here in a moment."

I started to wonder if people got into the medical profession to poke and prod at other people, like low end interrogators of sorts. Whenever I saw Rajan, he was either poking me with a needle, or prodding around my body looking for signs of unusual development. Jennifer seemed entirely too busy to care what I did, so I wrapped the gown around me as quickly as possible. By the time I got the stupid thing tied in the back, Rajan entered the room.

"Hey Bailey," Rajan said. "How you doing today kiddo?"

"Good I guess," I said.

"Did you have a good Halloween?" he asked.

"I had a lot of fun," I said.

"Good!" He gave me a smile. "I'm glad to hear it. Maybe we can talk about it later in my office."

Jennifer had also turned to smile at me. Apparently it was a big deal to these two that I had a good Halloween. My mind wandered back to it for a moment, as Rajan walked over next to Jennifer. I instantly recalled the dancing, not only with Vince, but the other girls. There were a few other boys too, but none of them as special as my first dance with Vince. He truly was a nice guy. Tiffany really picked a winner for a friend in him.

"Why don't you hop on up here?" Rajan asked, patting the exam table. "I'll take a quick look at your charts."

"He seems a little…" Jennifer's voice trailed off as she conversed in the corner with Rajan.

A few seconds later, Rajan pulled over a stool and sat with my chart in front of me. He was actually below me, as the stool made his chin come to about my knee on the exam table. After a few moments of flipping my papers back and forth, he tossed the file onto the counter. Jennifer soon gathered it up and held her pencil like she was ready to take a letter. They both looked so serious.

"May I?" Rajan asked, reaching for my left foot.

I nodded.

"Have you had any swelling in the ankles or pain in your feet or hands?" Rajan asked, as he started to massage various areas of my feet.

"No," I said.

"Any unexplained bruises or joint pain?" he asked, as he held my left knee and flexed my foot.

"None that I can recall," I said, watching him do the same to my other foot.

"Do you know what color nail polish you're wearing today?" Rajan asked.

"What?" I asked, wondering how in the world he knew.

"Ah, I got you there!" Rajan said, smiling. "I just want you to relax, Bailey." He patted my leg a couple of times and rolled over to the counter. "Nurse Sweeny told me you had an elevated pulse today."

"I'm just a little nervous," I said.

I looked down at my feet. It was then that I realized I could vaguely make out the fuchsia nail polish underneath my socks. Thinking Rajan had just assumed with my condition that I wore nail polish, I felt a little uneasy that he had just seen through the lightweight cotton covering my toes. I hadn't wanted to remove it, as it had been the last remaining memento from Halloween. Sadly I had to scrap the false nails on my fingers by Saturday afternoon.

"I figured that to be the case," Rajan said, as he smiled back at me. "Have you had any problems with the treatments I've been administering? Dizziness? Fatigue?"

"My friends pointed out that I seem a bit distracted," I said. "Usually a week after each shot."

"Well…" Rajan flipped a page over in my folder, and then looked up at me. "That would make sense at this point in time." He stood from his stool. "It's also what I planned on talking to you about today."

"What is it?" I asked, sensing something was wrong.

Rajan held the folder down at his waist, and looked straight at me. "I went over your blood work twice this past week," he said, moving to lean against the counter. "I was hoping there would be some change by now, but there's no evidence of any. I think we discussed hypogonadism didn't we?"

"I believe so," I said, knowing that term had been in my head ever since Rajan told me about it. "You said something should've changed. Is something wrong?"

"Well…" Rajan held up my file and flipped through it. "Wrong would be a strong word for it." He walked back over with my chart. "You have a more pronounced case than I first suspected."

"I do?"

Rajan nodded, showing me a chart that looked entirely Greek to me. "The blood work brought it to my attention, and looking at you today I can see evidence of it." His face turned rather somber. "Testosterone levels are a very picky thing, and the slightest change should've had the impact we were looking for. However, I'm afraid the testosterone treatments have been ineffective, and I'm even at the opinion now that your body is fighting the treatments. I'm recommending we discontinue them after today. At least in the dosage you're receiving. I remember us having a discussion about this as well."

"Yes," I said, straining to get comfortable in the stupid paper gown. "I'd like to stop them all together."

"We'll be giving you a couple more at lower dosages," Rajan said, going back to my charts. "And we'll be monitoring those very closely to see if your body reacts negatively. It also seems you have a slight case of AIS."

"What's that?"

"Androgen insensitivity syndrome," Rajan said. "It's very mild, as there are no signs of abnormal genitalia, but it appears you may have reached your maximum potential for development. At least as far as your body alone can manage."

"I don't understand," I said, growing more concerned.

"I'll try to explain," Rajan said, putting the chart on the counter. "The typical male adolescent needs testosterone, among many other things, for their body to go through virilization during puberty. This creates androgens which in turn help develop the masculine features resulting at the end of puberty. Pubic hair, facial hair, growth of genitalia and even bone structure rely on these androgens." He made sure I was with him before continuing. "If the body is insensitive, or the cells can't respond to androgens, it can prevent or impair the development of secondary sex characteristics, and in some extreme cases the primary function of the male specimen."

"So basically I have something that won't allow my body to be male?"

"In a way, yes," Rajan said. "That's the simplest way to look at it." His head nodded in a gesture toward my lap. "I've been watching for any signs of development in your genitalia, and they just aren't developing." He looked back into my eyes. "I was hoping the testosterone would promote development, but the AIS is interfering with that treatment."

"Well what can you do to fix it?" I asked.

Rajan motioned for Jennifer to hand him another folder. "There are a few options, but we can't really fix it," Rajan said, opening the folder. "Currently we can only treat the symptoms. There is really nothing that can be done about AIS at this current point in time."

"Wait…" I said. "There's no cure for it?"

"Unfortunately there is little that can be done about it," Rajan said. "We can manage your growth with hormones. This will provide you with a somewhat normal puberty. You may not grow up to be a basketball or football player, but there is hope for commonality."

I shook my head at his suggestion. There wasn't any reason to try to be a clone of Tom or Justin, when I wouldn't be able to completely become a man. It seemed ridiculous to me.

Rajan looked through the folder some more. "We can also let you continue to develop in your current state, by maintaining your hormone levels. It will lead to a slower puberty and you'll appear more androgynous."

"So I'll be stuck in the middle basically?" I asked.

"Precisely," Rajan said.

"That doesn't seem so bad," I said.

"Not for you. No," Rajan said. "I believe that's what you originally wanted, if I'm not mistaken."

"It is," I said, showing a small bit of relief. "I mean, maybe this isn't bad news after all."

"I like your optimism," Rajan said. "This can also be a viable option if you're considering sexual reassignment down the road." He glanced up at me. "You can, if you wish, go the other way from this point, and develop toward the female side of the spectrum." His shoulders slumped. "All of the options have their own risks. There may also be need for emergency surgeries down the road, if other problems arise, but don't let that keep you from pursuing the life you want to live."

"I don't know how to take any of this," I said, starting to panic. "I don't even know what half of this means."

"It's understandable," Rajan said. "I know you're scared, but we can take this one step at a time."

"I don't even know what step to take first," I said.

"We can discuss it in more detail in my office," Rajan said. "If you want, we can bring your father in."

"Stepfather," I said. "And no." I shook my head at Rajan. "He just complicates things. This won't be the 'cure' he's looking for."

"I understand," Rajan said. "I'll have Nurse Sweeny talk with him."

He motioned for Jennifer to act upon his suggestion, and she started gathering up papers and other information. Her haphazard approach to doing that almost fit with what was going on in my head. I felt like I was scrambling for information, tossing papers together to form some kind of solution to the problems I now had. Rajan gathered up some of my paperwork. After walking over to me, he clapped his hand down on my left shoulder. A reassuring smile spread across his face.

"Don't worry," Rajan said. "We'll get you through this." Afterwards he left the room.

"What's wrong with me?" I asked quietly.

"Oh, nothing's wrong with you honey," Jennifer said, dropping what she was doing and stepping over to consol me. "We'll get it all sorted out, and you'll go on to have a happy normal life."

"You must have a strange view of what normal is," I said.

"It comes with the territory," Jennifer said. "Come on. Let's get you dressed."

Jennifer helped me down from the table. She had to brace me until the blood returned to my legs. Then she turned around to give me a bit of privacy. I hurried into my jeans. Jennifer turned just as I had them zipped up. She took my gown from me, and waited for me to slip my shirt on. Then she walked me out of the exam room and down to Rajan's office.

Rajan was sitting in his high-backed black leather chair when I walked into the office. Jennifer left me once I passed the threshold. The carpet felt horrible still, but it was a bit warmer than the tile floor of the exam room. This was especially so where the sun streamed in through the large window. Behind his large wooden desk, Rajan looked rather regal. He gave me another one of his reassuring smiles as I strolled over to the couch.

"I know I fed you a lot of information in there, and I'm sorry," he said. "I should've given it to you in more manageable bites."

"I don't know how on earth you would make it manageable," I said.

"Perhaps smaller words?" Rajan offered up a half smile.

I returned the smile, but my heart wasn't in a light mood. "I understood the words. I'm just… I'm still trying to process it."

"Well let's process it together," Rajan said, flipping open my folder. "One step at a time…"

Nine whole days had passed since I saw Rajan. Over a week had gone by, and I still felt as I did that day in his office. The girls knew something was wrong. Tiffany and Tawny perhaps sensed it the most. I just didn't have the heart to tell anyone, at least not yet. To be honest, the one person I wanted to talk to about it, I hadn't seen for awhile. I actually wanted to talk it over with Nathan, of all people.

Tom had insisted that my blood be tested again. Rajan couldn't even convince him that he had it run twice, and was positive of the results. It was like Tom didn't want to hear those results. He didn't want to see the real problem. Instead, Tom wanted to push it all into the realm of something curable. He had to be the one to fix me, for some reason. I feared this had more to do with his past than the present.

I'd been so consumed in all of my problems, that I couldn't see the storm of trouble surrounding me. I didn't even want to hear my friends. When they told me kids were starting to talk, about the Halloween party, and how they had discovered I was dressed like a sailor girl, I ignored it. That's why I missed the signs. All it took was a randomly rare day, when Tiffany failed to walk with me back to homeroom after lunch.

"Hey sissy!"

I instinctively raised my eyes to see a young boy of Mexican descent coming toward me. Maybe I was so used to the berating comment coming my way, that I acknowledged it for that reason alone. At any rate, this kid seemed delighted that the insult got my attention. In fact, it opened the gateway to the scene forming amidst the busy hallway. He honestly believed he had called me on what he thought I was.

"See," the boy said to another. "I told you he'd answer to it."

"I wonder why she didn't paint her nails this week Gil," the other boy responded.

"Who knows," Gil said. "She probably ran out of polish using it all the time."

I finally recognized the two boys as part of the trio that knocked me down the month before. Since there were only two, I assumed the third was close by. He probably sat in the crowd ready to strike. I had very few options, as the two boys came toward me rather quickly. Either I could prepare for another trip to the floor, or I could try to avoid them. I chose to go around and avoid them, but braced myself for the inevitable.

"I heard you like dancing with the boys," Gil said, causing a few students to pause and look at me. "Would you like to dance with me?"

He stepped in front of me. I tried to step around him, but he stepped in my way again. The other boy came up beside me, and together they blocked my path. My eyes lowered to the floor, and I felt the uncontrollable inner wincing of my body prepared to be struck. I felt a presence behind me, and I knew it was the third boy of their trio. Gil lowered his head to get right up into my face.

"You don't want to dance with me sissy?" Gil asked.

"I just want to go to class," I said.

"What's the matter?" Gil asked. "You don't feel like dancing without your little sailor girl costume?"

"I heard she had cute little curls under her hat," one of the boys said.

He flipped my hair up, causing me to pull my head away. The other boy caught me on the recoil, and flipped my hair up on the other side. I shook my head vigorously, trying to get them to back away from it. This just made them laugh at me. My eyes raised to peer into Gil's brown eyes. He had a menacing looking on his pudgy face.

"Did you wear panties under your costume?" Gil asked.

"I bet she did," the boy on my right said. "I heard she wore makeup too."

"And perfume," the other boy said.

"You went all out then," Gil said. "How many boys did you make out with?"

"None," I said.

"I bet it was at least ten," Gil said. "I bet those lips of yours got a workout." He quickly reached up to squeeze my cheeks, making my lips pout out.

"Cut it out," I said, backing away.

Only I couldn't back away much at all. The other two boys pushed me back to Gil. He reached for the waistband of my jeans. I, in turn, slapped his hand away, which only produced a smile. Another of the boys grabbed my butt, making me jerk away toward the other boy. He proceeded to take a lock of my hair and mockingly sniff it. Gil started laughing, and I decided to give him a small shove to get by.

This didn't please him at all. Gil reached out and slapped my pre-algebra book from my hands. A crowd of students started to gather, as he callously kicked the book across the floor. I made one last effort to brush past him, when he shoved me back. The boy's soon got around me and started shoving me back and forth, around in a circle. It was slow at first, and I could see the students all whispering amongst themselves.

"I guess if the sissy won't dance with us, we can make her dance for us," Gil said.

"Too bad she's not dressed all pretty for us," one boy said, then shoved me over to the other.

Some of the students started to laugh at my predicament. No matter how much I tried to get away from the boys, the spinning and tripping around confused me. I didn't even know which boy I was headed to until I got there, and then they would push me away randomly to another boy. My hair flew around in my face, temporarily obscuring my sight. If I let my guard down for a moment, they took the opportunity to grope me before spinning me away.

"Please stop," I said, as I stumbled toward Gil.

"Thtop it you guyth," one of the boys said in a mocking lisp.

"No need to get your panties in a bunch," the other boy said, before pushing me back into Gil.

Gil's hands clamped down on my upper arms. I winced a little from the pain. As I struggled to get away, he just laughed with his friends. Finally I tried swatting at him. This just made them laugh harder, as I looked like a girl slapping with only my forearms free. He then shook me back and forth violently, until most of the fight had gone out of me. After a moment, the other two kids walked up closer behind me.

"Let me go!" I said, trying to sound as tough as possible.

Gil lifted his right hand. I thought for a moment he was actually going to let me go. Then my face felt a searing pain, as his hand flew across it. The jerk had actually slapped me! I could feel my cheek burning now. It pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat, as the blood rushed to it. I could actually feel the shape of his hand on my face.

"Don't back talk me girl!" Gil said.

The other two boys laughed uncontrollably behind me. Gil grabbed my arm once more, and then shoved me hard into one of the other boys. He spun me around and shoved me even harder back into Gil. Soon they were pushing me faster and rougher than they had done previously. The hallway started to spin. I could hear voices of students. Some asked the boys to give it a rest, others wanted them to continue.

My knees became weak from all of the spinning. My body felt sore from twisting and jerking, as well as the hard landings I was experiencing in the boys' hands. I lashed out. A few of my backhands and slaps connected, but they didn't seem to faze the boys. Eventually I collapsed to the floor, shot back and forth like a pin ball into their legs and knees. I fell on my back and looked up to see Gil's foot about to stomp down on me.

As I peered up toward the florescent hall lights, I braced myself to be stomped into the floor by all three boys. I could hear a female adult's voice beg the question of what was going on. Sadly I felt it to be too distant. She would never discover this in time to stop any damage. While I watched the inevitable about to reign down on me, I suddenly saw a hand appear out of the corner of my eye.

Actually, the hand was a fist. It connected soundly against Gil's cheek, sending him reeling back into the crowd of students. They in turn pushed him back. This student, who I didn't recognize at all, was now pelting Gil with hit after hit. Then I saw Jason Coleman over me. He shoved one of the other boys, and stepped over me to take him back away. I tried to collect myself, to maybe help out in some way.

The fight, however, was close to an end before it even began. Several teachers, the principal and even the school security guard were approaching the scene. The principal screamed for us to break it up, but Jason didn't want to let his target go. He dragged him back over to where Gil was being pulverized, and threw him to the floor. The third boy had taken off into the crowd of students.

"Coleman! Bellamy!" the principal shouted. "My office now!"

The security guard had to drag the other kid off of Gil. Meanwhile, Jason and the other boy were being escorted by teachers to the principal's office. Finally they got Gil up, and determined he had to be taken to the nurse. I watched the other three being hauled off to the office. Slowly I stood, prepared to dust myself off and head to class. That's when the principal turned to me.

"I'll be seeing you in my office as well, Mister Walker," he said, holding his hand up to show the way.

As I passed Principal Johnson, Vince rushed up to me. He had a solemn and concerned look on his face, but knew we didn't have time to talk. I looked down to see him holding my book up. After taking it from him, I gave him a subtle smile, and proceeded to the office. It always felt like a death march when going to the principal's office. I can laugh now about it, but students always thought it had this magical power or something.

"Miss Swanson I need the files for Gilberto Rodriguez, Jason Coleman, Patrick Bellamy, Shane Connors and Bailey Walker," Mr. Johnson said, as he ushered me into the outer office. "And could you tell the nurse I'd like to see Gilberto when he's done there?"

"I'll get right on it," Ms. Swanson said.

"Have a seat," Mr. Johnson said to me, "but don't get comfortable." He turned to the kid who had jumped in to rescue me from Gilberto. "Mister Connors…"

At least now I knew who he was, but I didn't know why he jumped in to help. I watched Shane follow the principal into his office. The room grew quiet. Patrick, I now knew his name too, wouldn't make eye contact with anyone. Jason on the other hand looked directly at me from across the room. He gave me a knowing half-smile, and a quick wink.

I sighed heavily, and looked down at my sneakers. The left one had come untied, but I didn't feel like fixing it. After a moment, the secretary got up to call the nurse on the intercom. Once she got that small communication out of the way, she lifted a small stack of files and went to knock on the principal's door. She disappeared into the room, and shortly after came back out.

About the time the principal finished with Shane, Gilberto came into the office to report. He had a rather quickly developing black eye on his left side, and a small cut on his bottom lip. The principal ushered him in right away. Gilberto passed me, sneering at me with the side of his face. I looked away, deciding to fixate my attention on the clock. The principal wandered over to the secretary's desk before going in.

"I need to see Eddie Nichols," he said, "and his file as well."

"Sure," Ms. Swanson said, getting right to work on the request.

Minutes ticked away on the office clock. Eventually Gilberto left the principal's office and reported back to class. The principal took Patrick next. About the time his door closed, the third kid from earlier popped into the office. He had a solemn look on his face, and when he saw me, the look turned into one of malcontent. He stepped over to the secretary and handed her a note.

"Have a seat Eddie," Ms. Swanson said, after glancing at the note. "Mister Johnson will see you in a moment."

The moment actually turned out to be twenty minutes. I know, because I watched it all on the clock. Patrick came out right as the tardy bell rang for next period. He wouldn't even look at me as he strolled out of the office. Mister Johnson waved Eddie in, and stepped over to get his file from the secretary. As Eddie strolled in behind the principal, he mouthed the word "bitch" at me.

"So what did you two do?" Ms. Swanson asked, glancing back and forth at us.

"I didn't do anything," I said.

"Oh," Ms. Swanson said. "You all say that."

"He actually didn't," Jason said. "Those three were harassing him in the hallway, and Shane and I jumped in to help him."

"Well that was nice of you," Ms. Swanson said. "You two friends?"

"Yeah," Jason said, giving me a pleasant look. "We go way back."

I smiled, and shook my head at his comment. Unless he considered bullying me in the past as an act of friendship, there was no other way Jason and I went way back.

"Well I'm afraid it may cost you a few days in I.S.S.," Ms. Swanson said. "Unfortunately…"

She went back to work on something. I looked at Jason, trying to express some sort of remorse for him getting punished for this. He just shrugged his shoulders, and gave me a goofy look. I think he was trying to make me feel better. It worked a little bit, but I still felt bad about this entire ordeal. The door to Principal Johnson's office suddenly swung open.

"Coleman," he said. "You're on deck."

"Great…" I said, after the door shut again. "I hate being last."

"Last is usually a good thing in this office," Ms. Swanson said. She looked up at me. "Usually by then Mister Johnson has the whole story, and it's over quicker."

After a quick smile, she stood to walk to the other room. She came back a minute later with several printouts to sort through. Amidst the sounds of paper shuffling and the clock ticking, I had plenty of opportunity to collect my thoughts. I tried to work out my side of the story in my head, preparing myself for any questions he might ask. My stories always seemed to fail when I got in trouble, but that didn't stop me from trying.

"Alright," Jason said, as he exited the inner office.

The principal strolled out into the outer office, and watched Jason leave. He turned to the secretary and shook his head. Then he turned to look at me. With a raised eyebrow, he gestured for me to join him in his office. This time, he let me go first. I stepped in and strolled over to a chair to sit down. The door closed, and Mister Johnson strolled quietly over behind his desk.

"Bailey Walker," Mr. Johnson said, as he sat down. "I like that name." He looked directly at me. "Why don't you tell me what happened today?"

"I was going to homeroom after lunch, and those three started harassing me," I said.

"Eddie, Patrick and Gilberto?" Mr. Johnson asked.

"Yes," I said. "They started pushing me around and knocked me to the floor."

"They claimed you were fighting back," Mr. Johnson said. "Were you?"

"I was pushing to get away from them," I said. "I wasn't fighting though. I just wanted them to leave me alone."

"How did Shane and Jason get involved?"

"They just came and defended me," I said. "I didn't ask them to though. I didn't even expect anyone to help."

"There were some allegations that some comments were made that many would find derogatory in nature," Mr. Johnson said. "Is this true?"

"Yes," I said, looking down. "They were trying to humiliate me I think."

"Well, unless this has been an ongoing thing, I can't really do anything about the verbal assault," Mr. Johnson. "Have they been continuously harassing you?"

"This is the first time the three have ever talked to me," I said.

Mister Johnson nodded. "I just hope you can understand that they're simply words," he said, "and they can't hurt you."

"I know that," I said. "It's not the first time I've ever been insulted."

"Okay," Mr. Johnson said. "You're welcome to talk to the counselor after this if you'd like."

"No," I said. "I'm fine." I tried to reassure him, if anyone, with a half-hearted smile.

"The other boys involved in this conflict got three days of in-school suspension," Mr. Johnson said. "I'll be calling all of your parents after we're through here." He looked over his report one last time. "If you were actually participating in the fight, I'd give you the same as them. However, I believe that you were indeed only trying to get away." He stood up from his desk. "So I'm just going to give you a note, and you can head back to class."

"Thank you Mister Johnson," I said, standing from my chair.

"I'm hoping this is the end of it," Mr. Johnson said, "but come straight to me if they, or any other students start harassing you again. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, feeling better now that I had someone to turn to, even though I probably would not turn to him.

"Hopefully this will be the last time I see you in here for something of this nature," Mr. Johnson said, as he handed me a slip of paper.

"I hope so too," I said.

"You have a good rest of the day Bailey."

He walked me over to the door, and opened it for me. I strolled out, sharing a subtle smile with the secretary on my way. As I walked through the empty halls, I let my relief wash over me. It made me feel a little light headed, but completely invigorated. I didn't need this on top of everything else in my life. I'm glad things worked out, at least for the moment. It felt like a burden had been lifted from my shoulders.

I continued on my way to my locker, to get my reading book, but midway there the bell rang. Students started pouring out of the classrooms. I had missed an entire hour of class time. It actually made me mad, because I enjoyed reading class. I guess I just had to live with it, and get my things for speech. At least seeing Megan in that class would cheer me up.

The rest of the day dragged on without incident, but I had nothing but a long talk waiting for me at home. Since the school called my mother, she made it a point to be there when I arrived. She had been sitting with Tom, perhaps quite a while, and were murmuring when I came in the front door. The bus roared down the street as I closed the door behind me. My brother wasn't home; his car missing from the driveway.

"Bailey?" my mother called from the living room.

"It's me," I said, reluctantly.

"Are you okay?" she asked, stepping over to the top of the staircase.

"I've been better," I said, trudging up the stairs.

"You're not hurt or anything are you?"

"No," I said. "I just don't feel that great."

"Well we'd like to talk to you," she said, wrapping her arm around my shoulder as I reached the top of the stairs. "It won't take long, and then you can go lie down."

Apparently my parents had no concept of time. Their idea of something not taking long, consisted of an hour long talk and a game of twenty questions. They concluded that what had happened was the honest truth; that I had been bullied at school. Tom's line of questioning pried at trying to see if I instigated anything, but his investigation came up short. Mother, on the other hand, invested all of her questioning to see if they had done any mental or physical damage to me.

By the time we got past the five hundred simple rules of avoiding conflict, Tom and my mother both happened upon a solution. I do use the term solution loosely here, as it had nothing to do with fixing the problem. They suggested I take some time away from dressing or acting the part of a girl. In their mind, this would probably cause the other kids to back off. However, in my mind, this sounded like another ploy of Tom's to get me to stop being girly.

They also thought I could benefit with a little time off from seeing my friends. Tom felt their influence caused me to pursue things which made me more feminine. I tried to argue that it was my own decisions that made me pursue these things, but he shot me down. My mother claimed it would only be for a week or two. Tom suggested until after the Thanksgiving weekend, and my mother quickly accepted that as a good time. I reluctantly gave in, sad that I wouldn't get to see my friends outside of school for a little over two weeks.

After all things were discussed and decided, I dragged myself to my room. I tossed my school bag across the room, pulled out my diary, and collapsed on my bed. My hand feverishly flew across the pages, writing about the unfair circumstances of the events that day. I wrote about the jerks at school and the jerks at home. Eventually my hand became sore and began to tire. My eyes grew heavy.

I vaguely recall my mother coming in that night. She had me take an aspirin with a small glass of water, making sure I drank it all. I managed to get my shoes off, and with her help I crawled under the covers. Once she got everything situated with me, she cautiously took my diary, closed it, and set it on the table next to my bed. Then she turned off my lights and left me to drift into a long sleep.

My mother stayed home with me the next day. We talked a little, but I mostly stayed in my room. In fact, I got rather used to my room the next two weeks. I got to see my friends at school, but I reluctantly had to turn down invites to hang out. Tiffany and I still talked on the phone. I really wanted to see her though, to talk in person. She would understand what I was going through.

The days passed slowly. I got to hang out with Nathan and Justin the following Monday. While neither Nathan nor Justin were on the varsity team, they seemed sad about the varsity missing the finals by one game. Justin kept saying they'd go to state next year. He claimed he would be starting quarterback, and Nathan would be starting as a sophomore. They'd "tear up the field" in his words. Nathan laughed at this, knowing it would be unrealistic. He claimed there were far too many talented juniors ahead of him on the team right now. It was pretty rare to make varsity as a sophomore.

Though I didn't care too much for football, just talking to someone different in the house was refreshing. Nathan told me I could come over and hang out any time I wanted, but I seldom took him up on this offer. Though I desperately wanted to talk to him about the recent events in my life, with our slight bit of history, I still felt a little nervous around him. It wasn't too bad with Justin around. So I kept my time seeing Nathan to times when Justin would be there too.

The days continued to trudge along. Thursday morning I got a somewhat rude awakening from my mother. She had pulled the curtains back from my window, and was shaking me awake. The clock said nine o'clock, and I knew I didn't have school that day. It was Thanksgiving day. I tried to turn back over to sleep, but my mother pulled my sheets away and shook me more.

"You have to get up now sweetie," she said.

"Why?" I asked. "I don't have to go anywhere."

"You need to get a shower," my mother said. "My sister will be here soon."

"Why did they have to come here?" I asked.

"Because her eldest daughter, Laurie, is starting her new job in Arizona come January," my mother said. "I haven't seen her since she started college, and I thought it would be nice to see her once more. Thanksgiving seemed like a good time to see them all. Besides…" She patted me on the head. "You like your cousins."

"Laurie is okay," I said, "but Kelly is a pain."

"She likes you," my mother said. "You're a month older than her and she kind of looks up to you."

"She's always following me around, getting in my things…" I sighed. "And she has an obsession with pinching me."

"You haven't seen her in over four years," my mother said. "That phase is probably far in the past."

"I doubt it," I grumbled.

"Just go get your shower," my mother said. "You'll feel better."

Following her inept prognostication, my mother left my room to check on the turkey. She always thought showers were instant cures for anything. Truthfully, I just wanted to be left alone. Since I couldn't be myself, I didn't want to be anything for anybody. Taking a break from dressing was the dumbest thing they ever came up with. All it did for me is make me miss it more. Then again, maybe that was the point.

The shower did feel good, but it didn't make me feel better. As the water cascaded down my body, I started examining myself. It wasn't every day I had the opportunity and time to really look myself over. My body appeared very much the same as it always had. I remained lean, the slight amount of muscle that I could retain just served to shape my body out. My head dropped, water rushing over my hair as I looked down at my slender feet. They hadn't changed size or shape either. Nothing about me had changed.

I closed my eyes for a moment. Stringy locks of hair started to cling to my face. I decided to let my dirty blonde hair grow out. Perhaps by summer I could go back to the spa and let Pam do something really cute with it. She had done a really fantastic job the last time, and I loved my adventure at the spa. Thinking about the spa got me thinking about the past summer. I sighed, slinging my head back and letting my wet hair whip behind me.

"Why am I even thinking about it?" I quietly asked myself. "There's no way I can keep this up."

I grabbed the shampoo, and slowly lathered my hair with it. Citrus-based fragrances filled the room as I massaged the shampoo into my scalp. About the time I went to rinse it out, I heard the faint chime of our doorbell. At least I would be safe in here for the moment. Hopefully the act of closing my bedroom door would keep my nosey cousin out of my things. If only I could be so lucky. Yet, something told me I better finish my shower quickly and see what she was up to.

My hair was still damp as I rushed out of the bathroom. Just as I suspected, my bedroom door sat wide open. Most likely my cousin had busied herself with rummaging through my drawers. She no doubt had her hands on my diary by now. I turned into my bedroom, and had to admit I was shocked. My room looked to be in perfect order, with only the addition of one extra body in the room.

"Kelly?" I asked quietly, not really recognizing my cousin.

Kelly's brown eyes opened wide with excitement. Her bronze face lit up, and she smiled as she dropped her hands to the side of my bed to help her stand up. She had been sitting there quietly, by herself, I guess since the time they got here. Her black hair had been put up with a pale blue ribbon that matched her innocent looking party dress. I assumed that her family had come dressed for the occasion, which made me feel like a bum in my jeans and long-sleeved shirt.

"You look nice," I said. "Different… but I guess I haven't seen you since second grade."

"Third actually," Kelly said, still smiling. "You look different than I remember too."

She stepped over and put her arms around me. I returned her hug, but secretly wondered when the pinching would come. As she broke the embrace, and stepped away, I could tell things were different. My mom had been right. I guess we both grew up. Kelly almost looked like her older sister had, when Laurie went off to college. It was kind of interesting to me, but it made me think of Tiffany and Kate, and how much they looked the same.

"So how is junior high here?" Kelly asked.

"It sucks," I said. "Way different than last year."

"Oh… I know! Right?" Kelly said. "It's like the world just changed or something." She flopped back down on my bed. "Girls are all in competition about makeup and boob size. I even got two of my friends pestering me to be a cheerleader next year!" She looked up at me, and bit her lip. "You're probably not into this conversation at all. I can tell."

"No," I said. "I mean…" I stepped over and sat at my desk chair. "The last time I saw you we were fighting over candy."

"Oh…" Kelly laughed a bit. "I've changed quite a bit since then."

"I can tell," I said.

"What about you?" Kelly asked. "What's new with you?"

"I'm actually having a hard time adjusting," I said.

"My mom said you'd had a bit of trouble this year," Kelly said. "Bullies and stuff."

"Yeah…" I reached up and scrunched my wet hair a bit with my fingers. "Bullies and stuff."

Kelly cocked her head to the right. "I was wondering --"

"Bailey," my mom said, tapping on the frame to my door. "Come in and talk to your aunt for a few minutes."

"Bailey?" Kelly asked, after my mother left.

"It's a long story," I said, standing with my cousin. "My mom didn't tell you?"

Kelly shook her head. "Think you got time to tell me?"

"Maybe later I can try," I said, waiting for her to exit the bedroom before me.

I approached the living room, and could hear the vaguely familiar voice of my other cousin, Laurie, talking to my brother. Tom and my aunt's husband, William, were nowhere to be seen. They probably had stepped out into the garage to talk and smoke a cigar. Tom always had a knack for bringing out the nice things for special occasions. I just saw it as a fake attempt to be likeable, but lately I'd been wrong about my stepfather.

"Zachary!" Laurie exclaimed, springing from the couch in the living room. "Or, I'm sorry, Bailey I guess it is now."

"Hi Laurie," I said, producing a smile.

She rushed over to give me a friendly hug. Laurie hadn't changed much at all, and the mental picture of her I had stored away in my head matched exactly to what I expected. She was slender, a bit on the tall side, and had the same bronze complexion as her younger sister. They both got a favorable gene somewhere that made them tan well. Granted my brother and I could tan well enough, but our cousins looked a lot better months after summer passed.

"You look so different," Laurie said, stepping back from the hug. "But good."

"I noticed that too," Kelly said, seeming to want to be in the conversation in any way possible.

"Thanks," I said, before I heard another female voice and felt another pair of arms spinning me around into a hug.

"Bailey…" my aunt said. "You look so grown up."

"Hi Aunt Kimberly," I said. "It's nice to see you again."

"It's weird," Laurie said. "You look different, and you have a different name too."

"You're like a whole other person," Kelly said.

"I don't see it," Aunt Kimberly said. "You look exactly the same to me. Maybe lost a bit of your baby fat?"

"I guess," I said.

"Maybe it's because I haven't seen you in so long," Laurie said. "Justin kind of looks different too."

"That's probably from the weight lifting," Justin said.

Justin stood, and came over to join us. I pictured him stepping in to rescue me from the swarm of women surrounding me. He just stood and smiled, taking on the goofy family-is-over part of his personality. Interestingly, he had on khaki slacks and a blue and gray sweater. Laurie had on a black knee-length a-line skirt and a forest green sweater. As I glanced back, to see my aunt in a heather gray dress, I realized I was the most underdressed one at the gathering. I had to change into a nice sweater at least, but I was surrounded by the gab squad.

"So how are you doing in school?" Aunt Kimberly asked.

"Okay I guess," I said.

"Junior high is rough," Laurie said. "I had a hard time with it."

"Just wait until high school," Justin said, looking at Kelly and me.

"Where's Aunt Susan?" Kelly asked, after glancing at me.

"She's in the kitchen," Aunt Kimberly said, not taking her focus off of me. "So your mom told me you had a little run-in with bullies a couple weeks ago."

"Just some jerks at school," I said, watching Kelly slip into the kitchen.

"They'll move on eventually," Aunt Kimberly said. "What classes do you like most?"

"Art and reading," I said. "Science is neat too I guess."

"I loved science," Laurie said. "Chemistry was the most fun. Wish you guys could have the teacher I had here at your high school."

After a few hundred more prodding questions from my aunt, she moved on to my brother. He livened up the conversation a bit, talking about how great his senior year would be. I kind of drifted off to the side of the conversation, and stood near the kitchen door. Between my aunt, Laurie and Justin talking, I could hear a quiet conversation between my mother and Kelly, though I couldn't make out the subject. Everything seemed normal for a change. It was like life had fallen back to the ordinary mundane, and the past few months were behind us all.

I stood and watched for a moment. Every word, every thought seemed focused around a normal family conversation. There wasn't any mention of my screwed up existence of living as a girl half of the time. That seemed so far removed from everything, yet it resonated in my mind. I started to picture myself removed from the family. Maybe things would go back to normal without me. It was about this time that Kelly came out of the kitchen, followed closely by my mother, and stood quietly next to me.

"Dinner will be about two hours," my mother said. "Kim, why don't we talk in here and let the kids run off and enjoy themselves?" She gave us all a knowing smile.

"That's fine," Aunt Kimberly said. She stood and looked directly at Kelly. "Stay out of trouble."

"Why don't we watch the game?" Laurie asked Justin.

"Sure," Justin said, seeming a bit surprised that Laurie would be into football.

Kelly tugged my shirt sleeve, and I turned to face her. "Come on," she said. "Football's boring."

"What do you want to do?" I asked.

"Your mom said you had a cool art project you were working on," Kelly said. "Can I see it?"

"Sure," I said with a proud smile. "It's in my room."

I led Kelly back to my room. As I got down to pull a box of random keepsakes from under my bed, she quietly closed my door. She strolled over and took her spot on my bed again. I sat the box up on my bed, and slipped the lid off. After removing the latest art project for her to look at, I stepped over to my dresser. I grabbed a pair of my socks from the top drawer, and then thought about putting something nicer on. Kelly busied herself with looking over the picture, while I opened up my closet.

"She's pretty," Kelly said. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"Well… she's a girl," I said, "and a friend. Her name's Tawny." I stepped over to get a picture of Tawny, and one of Tiffany. "Here's a picture of her."

"Wow," Kelly said. "You did a really nice job of her." She glanced at the other picture in my hand. "Who's that?"

"My actual girlfriend," I said, handing her the picture. "Tiffany."

"She's pretty too," Kelly said, holding both pictures over the art project. "You sure you don't like Tawny more?"

"Why would you say that?" I asked, looking at the limited selection of clothes in my closet.

"You put a lot of care into this picture," Kelly said. "Her eyes look almost real, and deeper emotionally."

"It's just a picture," I said, trying to brush off her observations.

"I don't know," Kelly said. "You put some real thought into this. Your pencil and shading gets softer near her cheeks and chin. Her lips are almost perfect."

I stepped over and took the art project from her. "It's just a picture," I said again. Then I slipped it back into the box.

"Well it's not like I'm going to tell on you," Kelly said. "I don't even know the girls."

"There's nothing to tell anyway," I said, turning away from her. I went back to fumbling around in my closet. "Why do you care anyway?"

"I care because you're family," Kelly said. "And I like you. I know I used to pester you a lot when we were younger, and I'm sorry about that."

"You could say that was an understatement," I said.

"I actually liked you more than our other cousins," Kelly said.

"Really?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder. "You never showed it."

"That was my stupid way of showing it," Kelly said. "I paid more attention to you. Truth is, I thought you were more interesting. You were different in some way, but definitely a good way."

I slapped one of my shirts out of the way. "There isn't anything in here to wear."

"What's wrong with what you got on?" Kelly asked.

"Everyone's all dressed up," I said. "I feel… I don't know how I feel."

"Maybe because you're looking at the wrong side of your closet?" Kelly asked.

"What?!" I nearly shrieked, as I spun around to face her. "Did you go through my things? If you did…"

"I didn't," Kelly said, sitting up straighter. "Chill."

"What did you mean then?"

"Well…" Kelly glanced around my room. "You don't do a very good job of hiding it." She turned back to give me an understanding look. "Nail polish bottles on your desk. Cherry body lotion on your nightstand. Camisoles and other intimates, clearly not in your mother's size, that I saw when she had me toss a dish towel in the laundry room." She gestured toward the foot of my closet. "Most guys don't wear heels."

"What are you a junior detective now?" I asked.

"Those are just a few on a long list of stuff I've seen since I got here," Kelly said.

I suddenly felt very nervous in my own skin. "There's other stuff?"

Kelly nodded. "Half empty bag of cotton balls. Nail polish remover on your dresser is almost gone. That tells me you paint your nails a lot. You also take more than good care of your nails. You keep your hair long. Not to mention your box right here has a few too many feminine keepsakes." She grew hesitant and embarrassed for a moment. "And I caught a glimpse of your panties when you pulled the box out from under your bed."

"I…" I glanced around my room. Everything she had mentioned stood out like a sore thumb. I had gotten so used to having everything out, that I hadn't done a very thorough job of hiding any of it. Kelly had caught on to my secret life in one visit, having been here for less than an hour. My head dropped to look at the floor. "I told you it's a long story."

"I got most of it from your mom," Kelly said. "Except the fun, juicy parts I know you left out." She gave me a mischievous grin. "You gotta tell me more."

"I should be running you out of my room to be honest," I said, showing her I was a bit perturbed by her assessment.

"Don't be mad," Kelly said. "I just wanted you to know that I know, and it's okay."

"Still…" I said. "I feel violated now."

"Truth is…" Kelly said. "I knew something was up before we came over. Laurie and my parents were acting kind of strange, but I could tell they were keeping something from me."

"Great!" I said. "Now my secrets are going across state."

"They're not going anywhere," Kelly said.

"I bet this is why they told me I couldn't dress until after this weekend," I said. "I should've known something was going on."

"Well…" Kelly gave me a pleasant smile. "They can't stop you from dressing if you're already dressed."

"What?"

"Dress up for dinner," Kelly said. "I'll help."

"I don't know…" I said. "Tom was pretty clear about me not doing that."

"Everyone knows now," Kelly said. "Not like you're gonna hurt anything."

"No," I said. "Bad idea."

"Come on!" Kelly said, bouncing a bit on the bed. "You said yourself you don't want to wear any of those boring male clothes."

"I don't think so," I said.

"Then at least let me do something," Kelly said. She looked down at my feet.

"I don't think that's a good idea either," I said, catching on to what she had in mind.

"They'll never have to know," Kelly said. "You can cover it up." Her eyes opened a little wider. "Please?"

I let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine! But if we get caught, you're going down for it."

"Yay," Kelly said, changing her position on the bed. "Got any dark red?"

"Somewhere," I said, turning back to my dresser.

Truth be told, I virtually had half the selection at the local drugstore in my possession. I just kept adding to it for some reason. Most of the girls let me have colors they used once or twice and didn't care for at all. Kate even bought me a small selection as little gifts here and there. I pulled out a dark, almost blood red from my collection, and sat on my bed with Kelly. A few moments later and she was busy at work painting my toenails. Oddly enough, it felt new again, like the first time Tiffany had done it.

"So how did you get into all of this?" Kelly asked, as if reading my mind.

"Actually, my girlfriend doing exactly what you're doing right now," I said. "Only I started off painting hers."

"Lucky girl," Kelly said. "Wish I had a boyfriend that knew how to paint nails. Could have them done while I read or do my homework." She smiled at me. "You know she's got the best of both worlds."

"Why are you so interested in this anyway?"

Kelly paused for a moment. "I wouldn't say I'm interested." She put polish on another nail as she thought about it. "I mean it is interesting, but I just thought this would be fun for both of us. You said you've been down lately."

"It is kind of fun," I said. "And better than you chasing me around the yard pinching me."

Kelly giggled a bit. "I always figured you could take it."

"You pinched hard," I said.

"Oh I did not," Kelly said defensively. "You are such a girl!"

"I wouldn't go that far," I said, taking a more serious approach to her statement. "I'm not a girl."

"That's debatable," Kelly said, pointing down at my foot. A big grin spread across her face.

"You're the girly one," I said. "Running from every bug you saw." I laughed a bit. "You ran screaming when we wanted to catch lightning bugs."

"You guys were trying to put them on me! Besides… I have every right to be a girl," she said, giving me a smug look. "I am one. You on the other hand…" She looked at me sincerely for a few moments. "You have a right to be too, if you want."

"The more I think about it," I said. "The more I want to be."

Kelly looked up from painting another nail. "Yeah?"

"But it's going to be so hard," I said. "I can't ever settle on it."

"Life's hard," Kelly said. "Better to enjoy it the way you want to."

"Just afraid I'd be letting some people down," I said.

"That's their decision to be honest," Kelly said. "But this is your choice. If they can't accept it, I say to hell with them."

"Wow…"

"What?"

"I've never heard anyone say it like that," I said. "A bit cynical."

"Well it's the truth," Kelly said. "Hand."

"I guess so," I said, offering my hand to Kelly. "There's just times when the decision becomes more complicated than yes or no."

"Like?"

Before I knew it, my cousin had talked me through painting all of my fingernails. She kept talking to me, somehow keeping my mind off of my nails until they were completely dry. That's when it dawned on me what had occurred. Kelly actually got her way, and I had been too wrapped up and distracted to stop her edging me toward the inevitable. It wasn't until she stepped over to my dresser, that I realized she had seized control of the situation.

"Got any hose?" she asked.

"Hose?" My eyes sprung open to the reality of what was occurring. "I told you I can't dress. Tom will kill me."

"He's not going to do anything with us here," Kelly said. "Besides, my dad would kick his butt if he laid a finger on you."

"I don't know," I said. "I should even take this off."

"Look…" Kelly turned to face me. "You gotta put your foot down some time. You need to show them you're willing to face consequences, or it'll always be this tug-of-war game between you all." She turned to look through my drawer again. "Besides… I asked your mom already, and she basically said it was okay if you'd go along with it."

"Basically okay, or okay?" I asked, standing from my bed.

"Honestly," Kelly said, turning back to me with a pair of nude pantyhose in her hand. "She more or less hinted that it would be nice to see you dressed up for the occasion. And since you couldn't find anything to dress up in one way, we'll go the other way." She stepped over and held out the pantyhose. "Now put these on. Your nails should be dry by now."

"I really shouldn't," I said.

"You should," Kelly said. "They'll look nicer with the dress."

"Who said I'd be wearing a dress?" I asked, chuckling a little at her boldness.

"Just put them on," Kelly said.

Kelly stood in front of me, still holding the pantyhose out in front of her. We were the same age, but she was a bit taller, like her sister. She had a few inches on me, and even more with her stacked heels; probably five to six inches total. I felt a bit intimidated at the moment, and she seemed a bit pushy. For a brief moment I started to get the feeling that Kelly wasn't asking me to dress, but rather ordering me to dress. I reluctantly took the pantyhose from her hand.

"Now let's see what we can find in here," Kelly said, opening my closet up completely to reveal the other half of my wardrobe.

I stood and watched her for a moment. Kelly busied herself going through my entire wardrobe. She pulled things out, disapproved of them, and put them back in my closet. The whole time I stood wondering if I should even allow this, or if I should just ask her to leave my room. At any rate, I definitely didn't feel comfortable changing with her in the room. Even though she paid no attention to me at all now, I didn't want to even think about stripping in front of her.

"Oh perfect," Kelly said, pulling a crimson red dress from my closet. "Slightly elegant, and matches your nails." She turned to face me, and then suddenly looked disappointed. "Why didn't you put the hose on?"

"I don't feel comfortable with this," I said.

"Oh…" She draped the dress over my chair. "I thought you were used to changing in front of girls." She stepped over to my dresser, and pulled out a light pink padded bra; the same color as my panties. "Well I'll step out and scope out the place. You get changed, and I'll come help with your hair."

Kelly tossed the bra on my bed, and then stepped over to slip out of my room. She didn't even wait around for a rebuttal. I wasn't used to this kind of treatment at all. Normally Tiffany would lightly suggest things to me, but never push me to dress. Kelly seemed rather demanding about it, like I had no other choice. Thinking that the situation could only get worse if I didn't comply, I quickly lost my shirt and dropped my jeans.

Kelly gave me plenty of time to change. She gently knocked on my door, and then slipped back in a moment later. As she shut the door behind her, she mused over my attire. The paneled skirt of my dress skipped gently along my nylon-encased thighs, as I stepped away from the foot of my bed. It lifted away, while I twirled around at Kelly's behest, and collapsed with ease above my knees. The scoop neck showed just enough of my neckline, and the three-quarter sleeves showed just enough of my arms.

"Please tell me you have shoes to match that dress," Kelly said, as she put some hair essentials on my dresser.

"They're in the back I think," I said.

Kelly raced over to my closet, and stooped to look through my shoes. In a matter of seconds she was back up with some crimson suede shoes in her hands. Honestly, I didn't know if they were real suede or not. They were pretty inexpensive, perhaps cheap looking, but I had to have them for some reason. Kelly came over to me and helped me slip them on. My toes slid up to the peep toe, revealing a few of my painted toes through the pantyhose. The two-and-a-half inch wedge heel raised me up, and once she buckled the thin strap over my instep, I felt so elegant.

"Got any belts?" Kelly asked.

"A few in the third drawer," I said.

Kelly walked over to my dresser and pulled the third drawer open. After looking over the paltry selection, she pulled out an inch wide black belt. She stepped over and slipped it around my waist. Once she got it buckled and situated, she stepped back to look me over. She seemed satisfied, and went back to the dresser. Eventually she was rummaging through my drawers like she owned my stuff.

"What are you looking for?" I asked, stepping over to her.

"Makeup," Kelly said. "I was thinking light, but you definitely need some lipstick." She glanced at me. "Close to your nail shade if possible."

"Bottom drawer," I said, reluctantly.

"Ever thought about getting a makeup table?" Kelly asked.

"Um… not recently," I said.

"Helps me keep it all organized," Kelly said. "You should ask your mom for one." She held her index finger up. "And you definitely need more belts. Belts are huge right now for girls our age." She glanced up at me. "I've got one with my name in little pink jewels. It's so cute." She went back to my makeup. "But you definitely need some variety for school and stuff."

"I don't go to school dressed," I said.

"Oh…" Kelly paused for a moment. "I thought you did. Your mom mentioned you going to school with painted nails."

"Yeah… that's about it," I said. "That and panties."

"Aren't you afraid of getting caught with your pants down?" Kelly asked with a giggle. "Pardon the pun."

"Sure I worry about it," I said. "I've had a few close calls too." I stepped over to sit in my chair at my desk. "I figure if it happens, then it's one less thing to shock people if I ever come out at school."

"Sounds like you've given that a lot of thought," Kelly said.

"Off and on," I said. "I don't think about it all the time though. Most of my life is ordinary, believe it or not."

"Forgive me if I don't," Kelly said. "Found some!"

She stood and came over to me, revealing a tube of dark red lipstick. After a half hour of messing with my hair, and trying to perfect my makeup, we both thought I was ready for my debut. Kelly thought we should wait until we were called in for dinner. She claimed it would be a better entrance with everyone there ready to eat. I found it harder and harder to disagree with her logic. She actually made me feel like I could put my foot down on this whole dressing situation. I felt empowered.

We goofed around for a little bit. She prodded for information on some of my adventures, and I asked her if she had any exploits. Kelly actually had a few. She seemed to be a bit of a tease around boys at school. Several of her stories involved her feigning interest in a boy only to make him look like a fool going after her. It kind of surprised me the way she viewed boys; as some sort of necessary evil. Yet, most of her stories made me want to actually hang out with her some time.

A bit after seven at night, my mother knocked on my bedroom door. She called out the dinner warning, before going back to the kitchen. I took a few deep breaths, and worked up some nerve to step out of my room. Once I stepped into the hallway, I couldn't turn back. Kelly made sure to block that option from me. The only two options I had left, were to hide in the bathroom, or walk on into the living room. I chose the latter option; my stomach tying itself into knots.

With each step I took down the hallway, everything became louder. The game roared on the television in the living room, and the voices of my family and our company poured out of every area. Justin and Laurie were the first to see me. They both had the same expression on their face; raised eyebrows and an inquisitive who-is-this look in their eyes. I got the first verbal attention from Aunt Kimberly.

"Oh my," she said. "Bailey you look terrific."

"Wow…" Laurie said, working around her initial shock.

This caused William to step slightly out of the dining room. "Is that Zach?" he whispered to his wife.

"I told you he's going by Bailey now," she whispered back. "Isn't he adorable?"

It felt weird for a brief moment. There I was dressed like a girl, but my aunt referred to me as a boy. That was the first time I ever faced the situation, and for some reason I lost a bit of self-confidence. My aunt's husband, however, quickly restored anything I had lost. He looked me over for a moment and then smiled pleasantly.

"You look very pretty Bailey," William said.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"I knew she would," Kelly said from behind me. "As soon as I found out, I could just picture it." She stepped to the side of me and smiled. "I think she looks amazing."

"Yeah…" Laurie said, still a bit bewildered. "You do look amazing Bailey."

"Thanks," I said, now feeling the red hot torment of a blush on my cheeks.

"You look nice," Justin said, giving me a reassuring smile. "Hey mom! Bailey decided to dress up for dinner after all."

My mother stepped out of the dining room, and into the living room. She was obviously taken aback for a moment, but then she regained her composure. All of a sudden she started beaming and talking about wanting to take pictures. Everyone started to fawn over me, and after a moment we heard the back door open and close. I figured it was Tom, giving our dog the traditional special Thanksgiving meal. He always slipped a wing of the turkey out to Buckles before carving the rest of it.

"I don't know why you wanted to hide it," Aunt Kimberly said quietly to my mother. "I say just let him be who he is."

"It was mostly Tom's idea," my mother said, rolling her eyes. "He thought Bailey could use a little break to get his head clear."

"Well perhaps he was thinking clearly all along," Laurie said behind them. "He… I mean she's a natural beauty."

"Well he was always a cute kid," Aunt Kimberly said.

"You have got to come spend some time at our house," Kelly whispered in my ear. "We'd have so much fun together."

"Damn it Bailey!" Tom's voice careened through the living room like a freight train hitting a car at a crossing. "What the hell did I tell you?"

"Tom…" my mother said, gesturing at our guests.

"Did you put him up to this?" Tom asked, looking at my mother.

"I don't think anybody put him up to it," my mother said.

"You're in big trouble buddy," Tom said, staring menacingly at me. "I told you none of this until after Thanksgiving."

"What do you mean none of this?" I asked.

"If we didn't have company here…" Tom said beneath his breath.

"Tom," William said. "Really it's okay."

"Susan…" Tom looked like he was ready to blow a gasket. His face turned red with anger. "We discussed this."

"You know Tom… I'm fine with it," my mother said. "I've had it with trying to artificially steer my child in one direction or the other."

"What!?" Tom asked.

"I didn't like stopping it in the first place," my mother said. "And this is my family. As far as I'm concerned, Bailey's open to be whoever he or she wants to be around them."

Tom ran his hand over his burr haircut. He ran it quickly over the back of his head a few times, grasping his neck. It was something he did right before he lost his cool, and I knew he was a ticking time bomb at the moment. He either needed to walk away from the conversation, or we somehow needed to end it pleasantly. I didn't feel like either this time. Kelly was right. This was my life, and every bit my decision, and there was no way I wanted to cede to Tom right now.

"Bailey…" Tom said.

"This is who I am!" I said loudly, drawing everyone's attention. "I feel good like this. I felt good about it until you walked in the room. Everyone here is fine with who I am except you!" My hands dropped to my sides in balled fists. "Why can't you just accept that you can't fix me!? Find a new hobby, because you suck at this one!"

My words trailed off into an abyss of silence. A little voice in my head kept repeating "too far" to my brain. It felt like everyone but Tom and I had stepped back from the conversation. I felt like I was standing amidst the townsfolk in an old western, prepared to take on Tom in a showdown. He stared me down, anger and confusion brewing inside of him. The first movement came from my mother. She raised her hand in an attempt to start the "cooling off" process of the argument. Only it never made it to that point.

Tom slammed his fist into the wall next to him. The act made everyone in the room jump. I watched in fear as Tom withdrew his hand from the drywall. He had literally hit the wall, and his fist drove through it, leaving a rather large hole behind. His eyes glazed over, and he stared straight ahead. Without another word, he exited the living room. The slamming of the back door was the last we heard of him that night.

Blood must have rushed to my head, as I couldn't recall the next several minutes. The next thing I remembered was my cousin trying to comfort me. Her hand ran up and down my back. My mother eventually made her way over to me, and held me in her arms. I watched William, over my mother's shoulder, as he coaxed Justin into the dining room. Laurie came over to us, and dragged Kelly into the kitchen.

Tom's truck fired up in the driveway. He floored it out into the street, and his tires screeched as he took off. For a moment I thought about him getting in an accident. I regrettably and honestly thought about him dying. An accident was too good for him though. I gave up caring about what Tom meant to me that night. The whole time I thought we were working things out, he was playing a game to control what I did, when I dressed, and when I could do anything. He was a bastard.

It took awhile for my mother to calm me down. I felt horrible about all of this, like I had caused it. Aunt Kimberly had taken my cousins in to finish getting dinner set up. I sat with my mother on the couch. She held me, and we rocked methodically together as she poured on encouraging words, trying to comfort me back to reality. I felt like crying, but I didn't cry. I just didn't care enough to cry over Tom anymore.

"Let's just go have a nice meal," my mother said eventually. She moved back to hold my face in her hands. "We'll put this all behind us. Everyone's here. Dinner is done, and you look so pretty."

I forced a smile, if anything for her assurance. "I'm sorry," I said.

"No," my mother said. "Never be sorry for who you are. I love every bit of you. And there are people in the other room that care about you."

"But I ruined Thanksgiving," I said. "I ruined everything."

"You didn't ruin anything," my mother said. "We have everything we need here, and we can be thankful for that. As for Tom… well he's the one missing out."

My mother's words had just enough influence to get me into the dining room. I expected to get the sympathy act from everyone, but instead they acted like the scene hadn't happened. This actually made me feel better, as it took the focus off of me. Eventually I smiled again, and we all sat down to a pleasant meal. William showed my brother how to carve a turkey, something Tom had never done. Soon the jokes and teasing came out, and everything almost seemed normal… almost.

Tom didn't come back that night. To this day I have no idea where he went. I imagined him sitting at a truck stop diner for Thanksgiving dinner. My mother sat out on the front porch for a long time after dinner, talking with my aunt. I wanted to listen in, but I figured it would make me feel worse. Instead, I sat in my room and goofed around with Kelly. She kept insisting that I would eventually be a girl full time, dressing at school and going on dates with boys.

I wasn't exactly sure what I would be tomorrow. The events this past month, with Rajan, Kelly and the way I'd been treated at school, really made me reevaluate my condition. It made me rethink what and who I wanted to be. I thought about it until the wee hours of morning, and didn't come a step closer to the answer. Maybe I was trying too hard to pin down what I wanted so early in life. Maybe I just had to live a little before I made the hard choices. Maybe all I needed was a good night's sleep.

---

 
 
To Be Continued In Seasons of Bailey: Winter...