Trick of the Mind — 45 & 46 by Maeryn Lamonte Melanie Ezell's big closet ultimate writer's challenge — Written From The Heart Thanks to Wren Erendae Phoenix for editing/proofing. “You OK?” I asked her. “Yeah, you?” “Better knowing we aren't lying to your folks anymore.” “Yeah. You needn't have folded so neatly under Mum and Dad's cross-examination though.”

-oOo-

Living with the girls didn't turn out to be the disaster Mr T had predicted, in fact if anything it was the best thing ever. Being the tail end Charlie signing up to the house share, I got stuck with the smallest room, but to compensate, Helen and Carla, who were sharing this house with us, agreed that Jen should have the biggest. Consequently, my room became a sort of storage room for all of Jen's and my unwanted and rarely wanted stuff, and I slept with her. The beds were more generous than the ones in halls the previous year, and certainly no more cramped than my bed at home, which we had shared contentedly for several weeks.

By agreement with the girls, I was Rachael around the house pretty much all the time. This meant that Richard pretty much disappeared from the social scene, not that his absence was noticed now that Dave and I weren't rubbing shoulders anymore. I got to know Helen and Carla's boyfriends as Rachael — fortunately on different courses which kept them very much on a different part of the campus from me as Richard.

Mornings generally involved Jen doing an all clear of the common areas in the house before I, as Richard, would do a quick runner to get outside and on my way towards the university campus. The houses were convenient enough, only ten minutes walk from the campus itself and a maximum of twelve from any of the lecture halls and labs I used. Sometimes Jen would accompany me, but since her course had fewer lectures than mine, I still walked in on my own more often than not.

My mind continued to play tricks with me and I ended up spending most of my days at university wearing a dress. I still wore knickers and tights under my jeans, relying on Jen to make sure I wasn't showing a visible panty line, and that helped with the ever present feeling of wrongness.

Since the eight of us had two houses next door to each other, we made one of them our after hours meeting place, and since the one next door to ours had an open kitchen/diner/lounge, ours was generally empty whenever I came back in the evening. Usually Jen would come find me in the library and we'd walk home together. Helen or Carla would draw the curtains to show the coast was clear. If it wasn't, or someone had forgotten the signal, we'd call the house phone and wait for the all clear. I'd then change into Rachael for the evening and life continued with no great complications.

During the week I avoided perfume, for obvious reasons, and only slipped the wobble twins into the cups of my bra, avoiding adhesive for equally obvious reasons. When the weekend came though, it was party time, and Rachael strutted her stuff with the rest of them. I saw Dave giving me disapproving looks from time to time when we crossed paths, and I'd simply shrug my shoulders at him in an apologetic way. I missed him as a friend, but if he couldn't cut me some slack knowing what I was going through, then it was more his problem than mine.

The twisting of perspective during the day continued to bother me. If I hadn't been able to spend every evening and night as Rachael, and blow off steam as one of the girls every weekend, I think I might easily have sunk back into a depression like the one Jen had rescued me from the previous term. I missed wearing trousers and, even though I did get to wear them on rare occasions, they were the ones Jen's mum had bought me so were either so tight they felt like... well... tights, or so loose they felt like a skirt.

With the cold weather coming in, I really regretted the lack of adequate cover for my legs. My brain settled on a hemline that was just below the knee, which meant the only time I felt anywhere near warm from the waist down was when I was wearing a long dress or skirt for real. Still, overall it was a small enough price to pay and I managed to keep my mind together enough to keep well on top of my studies.

My dad kept his promise and e-mailed me twice a week. Often I was too busy with either my course or my social life to respond. I did write back as often as I could though. Sometimes he would tell me about the goings on at the prison, if there was anything unusual or interesting to say, which was rarely. More often, he'd tell me about what he had learnt from his study of the Bible. He was taking advantage of the free time he had behind bars to dig into it in detail. Alice had brought him some books and some study material which, he said, was opening his eyes to things he'd never seen in the Good Book before.

With little prospect of employment when he was released, he was also looking for other things he might do to put food on the table. Through the prison chaplain, he had made contact with a number of people who were helping him put something together. It would never be as lucrative as what he had done before, but it would earn a living wage, and for that he was grateful.

There was such a difference to the way he expressed himself. I'm not sure if humility covers it, because that implies a choice not to put yourself above others, even if you can. With Dad, it was like something had broken inside him. All the bravado he'd shown throughout his life was gone, and he was happy to curl up under the table and eat the scraps that were thrown to him. He was still in something of a dark place and I worried that he wouldn't find his way out.

There wasn't much I could do to help him, other than write about my life at university. I didn't tell him about Rachael, because that would have only crushed him more. Instead I talked about how the course was going, and how I had joined the university student paper as a trainee journalist. There wasn't much call for scientific reporting on the campus, but just writing about anything was helping me with my style, and forcing me to chip the rust off my poor grammar and spelling. I wrote a few reports on some of the research that was going on in the physics department, and tried sending them to scientific magazines like Focus and New Scientist, but none of them had been published. At least not yet.

I did tell him about Jennifer, and how well we were getting on. I was pretty sure that we were a long term — hopefully even a lifetime — item, but I was acknowledging the wisdom of my elders in taking it slow. We had two more years of university together, more if either of us decided to do a Master's, so the whole engagement and marriage thing would have to wait. Since we were living together and sleeping together, albeit not in the carnal sense, we didn't need things to rush ahead.

I kept in touch with Alice as well, calling her regularly and writing the odd letter. She has her odd ways, does my little sis, and a preference for pen and ink is one of them. One day in mid November she sent me a clipping from the local rag at home. Dr Finster had made the front page. The headline read, somewhat unimaginatively as one sometimes finds with local newspapers, 'Local Mental Health Scandal'. There was a photograph of the Grace Hospital, presumably the wing of it where I had spent the two worst weeks of my life, and another of a harried Dr Finster climbing into a car, trying to block the view of the camera as he did so. The article wasn't that long.

“Following a High Court ordered review of the conditions and working practises within the mental wing of Grace Hospital, a local doctor has been arrested on multiple counts of wrongful incarceration and patient abuse.

“Dr Eric Finster, until recently a respected member of the medical community, has been found guilty of what one investigator called 'Victorian attitudes' and 'barbaric practices that belong in the Dark Ages'. He faces a long prison sentence for the potentially harmful treatments he has prescribed for an alarming number of patients, and it is expected he will spend the rest of his life in prison.

“In addition to the criminal charges, a class action malpractice suit is being levelled against the privately run Grace Hospital on behalf of the abused patients. Anyone who has received mental health care at the Grace Hospital in the last fifteen years is invited to contact Richards, Peters and Talbot, the firm of solicitors who are heading up the class action, to see if they are eligible for compensation.

“Two mental health care nurses are also under investigation on charges of patient abuse as a result of the investigation.”

So. That was Dr Finster out of the way. I was briefly tempted to feel sorry for him, since he had on become involved in all this as a favour to my dad. It only lasted a moment though, as I reminded myself of what he had put me through, and that he had done the same to others. He had committed his atrocities regardless, and it was more fortuitous than otherwise that he had been found out and stopped.

My speculation as to whether or not it was Mr Talbot's firm of solicitors that was bringing the class action suit was short lived when Helen passed me a second letter, this time in rich stationary. The letterhead read Richards, Peters and Talbot, Solicitors, and the letter outlined my involvement in the class action suit. Since Mr Talbot's relationship to me was known, the actual lawsuit was being brought by one of his colleagues to avoid conflict of interest, but Paul had already completed most of the information needed on my behalf, leaving me to check it, correct a few minor details and add my signature.

-oOo-

It was a weekend in early December and, as usual, we were trying to save money on the heating bills by sticking to one house and huddling together under blankets on the sofas. As Rachael, the others treated me like just another one of the girls, which oddly meant that Jen was OK with me being in the middle of the scrum. The first time it had happened, I'd felt a little uncomfortable with the whole idea, but when the others, Jen included, had told me I was being daft, I'd shrugged shoulders and joined in. It wasn't like I could take much advantage with everyone except me wrapped up in thick jeans and bulky sweaters. Being the only one in a dress, it was me that got felt up, and then mostly by Jen.

As usual for a Saturday afternoon, there wasn't much on the TV, and we were all getting a bit restive. Riana suggested going to the university as the rugby team were playing at home today, and the rest of the girls agreed that, with nothing else to hold their interest, it would be worth a shot. Jen lent me some woollen tights to stop me from turning completely blue down below, and with a few misgivings on how Dave would react to me cheering from the sidelines, I pulled on a pair of boots and a duffle coat, and followed them out.

Our guys played a blinder and I yelled myself hoarse with the rest of the girls, cheering them on to an overwhelming victory. After the match, Riana led us to the pub where the team would be celebrating once they'd showered and changed. Again, I was nervous of Dave's reaction, but at least the place was warm and I was getting some feeling back into my legs.

I needn't have worried about Dave. He was so full of the victory that he didn't even notice us sitting in the corner. Then when Riana sauntered up to him and planted a kiss right on his lips, it seemed unlikely that even my presence would dent his mood. He basked in the reaction of his team, telling anyone who would listen that they were just jealous, then after buying the first round, he let Riana guide him back to our table.

I gave him a sheepish smile, which he returned with a non committal nod.

“So, what did you think, Rabbit?”

For a moment I worried that someone might remember who that nickname belonged to, but the only people within earshot knew who I was already.

“I thought you guys were awesome.”

“Too right they were,” Riana interjected, settling onto Dave's lap and slinging an arm around his neck.

It shouldn't have surprised me that Riana and Dave were into each other, I mean there had been clues. I felt glad for them both and let it show in my smile. It probably wouldn't count for much, but I still hoped to find a way to help Dave and me reconcile our differences. If he was going to be coming round to our house more often, we might be in with a chance.

He did his extrovert thing, swooping Riana down to within inches of the floor, and she being equally outward going, joined in, laughing and squealing at the top of her voice. Suddenly our corner of the pub was the centre of attention and I desperately wanted a hole to hide in.

About half the rugby team approached and lined up behind Dave.

“Hey man, how come you're hogging all the pretty girls?”

“Aw, get lost you losers. These ladies are well out of your league.”

“So what are you doing with them huh? Besides, unless you forgot, big man, we are currently at the top of the league.”

“Yeah, we are.” Dave and his mates broke into a wolf howl that had the landlord casting dirty looks our way. He wasn't likely to chuck us out given the custom he was getting from the lads, but you could see he preferred a quieter atmosphere.

“So Dave,” one of the guys said, “why don't you at least make some introductions. Just 'cos it took you over a year to get together with your young lady, doesn't mean that the rest of us are that slow.”

Dave looked us over, me included. Some of the girls were looking decidedly interested, even Carla and Helen. Riana whispered something in his ear and he did what most good men do when given a suggestion by their significant other. He gave in.

“Alright guys, if it'll get you off my back. Riana you already know. This is Carla and Helen, Sandy and Becks, Amy and Jen, and the shy little mouse in the corner is er...”

“Rachael,” Jen finished for him.

“Yeah, Rachael.” Dave gave me a look filled with dire warnings. “You guys can look, but don't touch. I know for a fact that some of these lovely ladies are spoken for, so if they're not interested, you back off.”

The next few minutes were interesting from an anthropological behaviourist's point of view, as the guys jockeyed for the attention of the seven of us. I was surprised at how much came my way, and I gave Jen a panicky look. She was already deep in conversation with one of the other lads though, and having seeming to enjoy herself.

Eventually my potential suitors readjusted their sights, leaving me with someone named Pete. At Dave's size, he comfortably dwarfed me, and he was better looking than my friend. What was I thinking? He was a guy, I wasn't interested in guys. I wanted to run, but Dave's warning and the girls' evident delight in what was going on backed me into a corner.

“What?” I asked, aware that Pete had just asked me a question.

“I asked what it was you were studying.” Typical if unimaginative getting to know you question.

Physics would seem unlikely for a girl. I knew there was only one in my year and, without wishing to be unkind, most of us just thought of her as another one of the lads. I chose something I thought was fairly gender neutral and not too far from my own interests.

“Er... Maths,” I said. His look of distaste told me that I had picked wisely. Evidently another Dave from the numeracy point of view. “What about you?”

“Business studies. There's more maths in that than I care for. I don't suppose you'd have time to help me go over a few bits.”

“Er... I'm... well I've kind of got a lot on my plate at the moment.”

“Hey, that's OK. I don't mean to be pushy.”

“Look, I hope you don't mind, but I am already in a relationship, and this is making me feel a little uncomfortable.”

That earned me a kick from Jen. “C'mon Rach, he's just trying to be nice. Just go with it.”

So I did. I let him do most of the talking, nodding and smiling where it seemed appropriate, but overall I was terrified that he would suss me out, and my brain wouldn't focus on more than one word in ten.

Afternoon ran into evening and the guys bought us a pub meal. I wanted to refuse, but I got don't you dare eyes from both Jen and Dave, so allowed a guy to buy me dinner, while another guy paid for my girlfriend's.

Eventually Jen intervened, saying she needed the loo and looking at me pointedly until I got the message. She dragged me into the ladies and pulled me into a corner.

“Richard! Pull yourself together will you? This is just a bit of harmless fun. They know this isn't going to amount to anything, except maybe for Dave and Riana. They just want to have a good time with some pretty girls, and they’re happy to pay for it. For heaven's sake, you already told Pete you were with someone. Can't you see he's not going to try anything with you?”

“This is different Jen. These are guys I see around campus. I'm terrified they're going to recognise me like Dave did last term. Can you imagine what it would be like for me if the whole rugby team found out who I was and that I had been leading one of their prop forwards on?

“Shit! I'm beginning to think this is what your Dad had in mind when he said my living with you lot as Rachael wasn't such a good idea. You all just see me as another girl, at least in part, which means you expect me to be just like you when we go out. The thing is I'm not. I'm not comfortable with what's going on tonight, and I really don't know what I should be doing.”

“OK, OK. Calm down. For one thing, you're doing fine. None of us see any sign of Richard out there, which is probably why we just assumed you'd be happy to join in. The thing is, if you continue to freak out like you're doing, you're more likely to be found out.

“You want a best result out of tonight, stop worrying. Try to join in. Pretend for just a few hours that you really are a girl. At best you'll have an experience unlike anything you've enjoyed before. At worst, it'll be over soon, and I promise you when we get home, we'll discuss it. Make sure we don't put you in this situation again.”

It was enough. Being as we were there, we took advantage of the facilities and freshened up — in my case minimising the chanced of being spotted — then headed back.

In our absence, drinks had been bought and I had a glass of wine sitting next to the remains of my spritzer. I thanked Pete and used it to take the edge off my fear. I took Jen's advice and tried to relax, the result being that I did actually enjoy the rest of the evening. Pete turned out to be intelligent and articulate, and a pleasure to talk to.

In the end, Jen must have done some secret girl signal to the rest of the group, because suddenly all of them were agreeing that it was time to go. Even a reluctant Riana. The lads were disappointed, but accepted whatever the reason was that was given. Some of them offered to escort us home, but it wasn't far and it was still early enough that a group of eight girls together should be safe, so we declined.

Pete took my hand and, for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss it. “I had a great time,” he said. “Maybe we can do it again sometime?”

“I'll think about it. Goodnight Pete.” I took my hand back and followed the girls out onto the street.

They were full of it, exchanging stories and laughing at the way the evening had gone. I couldn't join in, feeling like I had perpetrated the most heinous of frauds on Dave's friend. It wasn't that late when we got home, so Jen insisted we all go into one house to discuss what had happened. She described what I had told her in the toilets, and the whole room went quiet. I was surrounded by soft bodies with gentle hands reaching out to touch me.

“Sorry Richard.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“We didn't think.”

“It's just that you're so natural.”

“Yeah, we hardly think of you as a guy anymore... Sorry if that sounds insensitive.”

The comforting reassurance was exactly what I needed. It drew the tears out of me, and they joined in. Group hug, group cry. Somehow it made things better, closer, between all of us.

That night I slept in my own bed, in the nude. I knew Jen felt rejected, and I tried to tell her that it wasn't her fault, just that it was something I felt I needed.

-oOo-

Next morning was Sunday. We didn't tend sleep in much with the heating on low, so it wasn't an intrusion when Jen brought me coffee and toast at nine o'clock. For most of the day, the girls seemed to tiptoe around me, as though they were still unsure they had done enough to make up for the previous evening. As though they didn't really understand what it was they had done to set me off. I guess I was still from Mars after all.

They brought me drinks, cooked lunch and cleaned up afterwards, pointedly refusing to ask me to join in, until I'd had enough. Things had been cleaned away, coffees and teas made and passed around, and everyone was in their usual huddle on the sofas when I spoke up.

“Can I just say something?”

The TV remote was poised to hunt for some programme slightly less ghastly than the rest. It was lowered slowly as seven pairs of eyes turned my way.

“This arrangement, with me staying here as Rachael. It's mutually beneficial. I get somewhere to stay which I wouldn't have otherwise, and you get your eighth lodger. For the most part, me staying here as Rachael works for me as much as for you too. The landlord doesn't question whether or not the eighth tenant is a girl, so no hassle for you, and I get some relief from this mess in my head that leaves me thinking I'm wearing a dress whether I have one on or not. For the most part it's a win-win situation.

“I understand why it's easy for you to think of me as a girl. A lot of the time I actually feel like one, or at least how I imagine one would feel. There are things about this arrangement that I wouldn't change for the world...”

“Like being able to sleep with Jen every night,” Riana said, hoping for a laugh. Instead she was shushed from six directions.

“Yeah, I can't say I don't appreciate that, but it's more than that. I love the way you accept me. Last night when you knew I was upset, I loved the way you gathered round and shared my tears. The closest a guy gets to that sort of contact is when he has a girlfriend, and then it's only with one girl, and only as much as he’s prepared to lower his guard, which for most guys isn't a lot. I've even appreciated the way you guys have been so attentive today.

“I guess what I'm trying to say is, I really do enjoy being Rachael with you lot, and I would hate for that to stop, but underneath it all I am still a guy. When I'm out there, I may be Rachael to you, and even to me, but to everyone I meet, I'm just a slip of the tongue away from being seen as a bloke in a dress. Most people are less tolerant of people like me than you guys, and I really need you to have my back when we go out.”

The other sofa emptied as all the girls made me the centre of a mass hug. We were still in the middle of the eight way bundle when the door bell went.

Amy checked out the window. “It's Dave,” she said to Riana. So while she went to greet the new man in her life, the rest of us put the living room back into some semblance of order, and put the kettle on.

-oOo-

The loud, wet slurping of a hugely enjoyed kiss drifted through from the hallway.

“Hey Dave,” Sandy yelled, trying to spare us all the cringe factor. “Tea or coffee?”

The slurping stopped long enough for Dave to ask for a coffee.

“How d'you take it?”

This time there was no response as tonsil tickling became the game of preference in the other room.

“Black with two sugars,” I said, “unless he's changed in the past few months.”

It was enough to interrupt the grossly amorous display from next door. A moment later Riana led Dave into our midst, wearing a pout that would have threatened drowning had it been raining, and hamming up the histrionics.

“I thought you said you'd never been with another woman?”

Dave, ever the consummate actor, played along, falling to his knees in mock dismay.

“But baby, baby, it's true. I never... I never...”

“Then how does she,” an imperious finger stabbed out in my direction, “know how you take your coffee.”

That was my cue to join in. I wasn't certain how Dave might react, but rashly, in the heat of the moment, I threw myself at Riana's leg.

“Oh, Riana,” I gasped, “please forgive him. You must know he never really loved me.”

The girls cracked up, and after a few second's surprise, Dave's deep belly laugh joined in. I hadn't realised how much I had missed that laugh until then.

I regained my feet, and my composure, brushing dust from my dress, and looked up into Dave's eyes. There was still uncertainty there, and pain, but there was a hint of welcome too.

“I guess I'm going to have to get used to you like this if I'm going to be coming round here much, aren't I Rabbit?”

I shrugged. “If you're going to call me by a nickname, would you mind choosing something different? Yesterday I was terrified people would remember who else you used that one on.”

A look of genuine horror passed across his face. He hadn't even realised. So intent on me keeping my shameful secret, and not even aware how nearly he'd given the game away.

“You called me a shy little mouse yesterday. I could live with mouse.”

I smiled my best shy smile and dropped my head, returning to my place on the sofa, as Sandy passed him his coffee.

Dave spent the rest of the evening clowning with the girls. At one stage or another, they'd creep up on him and breathe sexily into his ear.

“Hey Dave, don't you remember me?”

“Hiya Dave, I had a really good time last week.”

“Dave, how could you ever leave me?”

Every time, Riana would jump up and go off in a pretend huff, and every time Dave would have to go to greater lengths to win her heart back. It was great entertainment, even Jen joined in, sprawling across his lap and purring, “You know you want me.”

He played along as only Dave could, but right through it all, I kept noticing him looking at me with this strange expression on his face.

Eventually the horseplay came to an end and the girls jumped up to put together some sandwiches for tea. I made to join them, but Becky pushed me back down.

“No, you get to enjoy a whole day of being looked after. We owe it to you Rach.”

So that left Dave and me sitting uncomfortably opposite one another. Confrontation time.

“What's on your mind Dave? You've been looking at me like I was from outer space all afternoon.”

“I don't get it.”

“Don't get what?”

“Any of it. I know you're Richard, but all I see is a girl. I don't get how you can be so convincing. Even yesterday in the pub I started thinking of you as Rachael. Plus I still don't get why you do it. And,” he said raising his voice so everyone could hear, “I don't get why everyone here accepts you as a girl. I mean I see the way you lot act around him. You lean into him, you touch him, you hug him. I'd be lucky to get that kind of attention from just one girl at a time.”

“Jealous, are you?” Riana slid onto his lap and kissed him. “Would it be worth your while putting on a dress to get this kind of action?”

“I might be tempted, if I didn't only have eyes for you my sweet.”

He delivered the line as though he were reading, uncertainly, from a script. Riana gave him a playful slap and headed back into the kitchen area. The rest of the girls had thoughtful expressions on their faces as though they were considering things for the first time.

I dived into the silence.

“You know at least part of my answer. I still have this hypnotism thing going on up here, and it's easier for me when I actually wear a dress than when I don't. I also have something inside of me that likes being a girl, so combine the two and I have every incentive to try to be the most convincing girl I can.

“I've had to suppress it for so many years, I still haven't stopped enjoying it, but it is getting to a point now where I miss being Richard.”

“But I've see you around campus as Richard?”

“Yeah, that's what you see. I still get to walk around campus in a frilly dress, even though you see the jeans and tee shirt or sweatshirt. I also have to pretend, for my own safety, that I'm not dressed the way I feel. And when that cold wind lifts up my skirts and swirls around in my delicate region, it's pretty tough not to do a Marilyn Monroe.”

“Shit, that must be weird.”

“You don't know the half of it.”

“What about you girls? Why do you feed this obsession?”

They were drifting back into the living area with tea and coffee and a selection of sandwiches and cakes. Jen settled beside me and spoke first.

“For me, I guess I never really saw Richard for the great guy he was until I met Rachael. I mean it was just after Mysterio, and he was still wearing trousers, but there was something about him — the way he sat, the way he walked — that seemed a little different, and he had a lot more self confidence. Suddenly the shy guy retreated and this outgoing, open, talkative person came out.

“From the way he moved, I kind of suspected that he had been hypnotised, and he admitted to it when I confronted him. It was weird and a little off putting at first, but then I realised that this guy, who I already thought was kind of cute, had stopped being so closed in on himself, and was actually just as pleasant to talk to as he was to look at.

“As I got to know him, and the hypnotism went from being a fun little oddity to something that was seriously affecting his mood, it didn't seem too big a step to start experimenting with him dressed for real, and as you can see, he makes a pretty convincing woman.”

“Yeah,” Riana chipped in, spokesgirl for the rest of them. “It was kind of a gradual thing for us too. When Jen first suggested dolling Richard up and taking him out on the town, it was just a laugh to blow off steam. You know, sometimes you guys are so full of yourselves, it's fun to help one of you defect, even if it's only temporary.

“The thing is Richard was such a natural, and we had such a laugh, it was kind of like having an extra girl in the group, and having this humongous secret that only we knew. I guess we all had such a great time, we didn't want it to end, so when Richard agreed to going on a shopping trip with us all after the exams, it was just too good a chance to pass up.

“Then, of course, you happened by, and I wasn't interesting enough for you, even in my new pink dress. You had to come over and say hello.” Riana's mock anger had just the slightest hint of truth to it. “You flipped your lid when you figured out who Richard was, and when you kicked him out of your house share, I was pretty sure I was never going to talk to you again.

“Then we had the idea of inviting Richard, or rather Rachael, to join us. We were still a body short and didn't really want a non student in with us, so it seemed to answer everyone's problems. And as you can see it has.”

Dave shook his head. “Well, I have to admit it hasn't turned into the sick, pervy thing I was expecting. It still leaves me squirming more than a little, but that's just me imagining taking a cute girl like you home, and finding out halfway through the fun bit of the evening that you were a guy all along.

“I noticed you with Pete yesterday. You were doing all you could to keep him at a distance, so I guess that's not what you're looking for. I still wouldn't say I'm alright with it, but if I want to hang out with Riana and the rest of you girls, I suppose I'm going to have to get used to it.

“In a way it's a relief, 'cos there's this really tough bit of maths on our course at the moment. Me and Pete could really do with some help.”

“As Richard or as Rachael.”

“Well, now that Pete's seen Rachael, he might put two and two together if Richard turned up. I mean you look like a girl, don't get me wrong, but you look like Richard might have turned out if he'd been born a girl. I don't think you'd fool him for long, I mean he's quite a bit more intelligent than me.”

“What's the topic you're having trouble with?”

“Great, I know you wouldn't let me down. It's a statistics module, and I just don't get any of it.”

I made arrangements for them to drop by the following evening. As Richard, I had a passing acquaintance with some of both Dave's and Pete's house mates, and neither of us wanted the risk of me being spotted.

“There is one other ulterior motive to my visit.”

“I knew it!” Riana was pouting again. “You're just using me.” She burst into pretend tears and ended up with the girls nearest her stroking her and making over the top sympathetic noises until she stopped.

“The rugby club is putting on a 'Top Of The League' ball next week to celebrate our success. The guys from yesterday were wondering if you'd like to be their dates for the evening. That kind of includes you and Pete, Rich... er I mean Rachael, if you're up for it. What do you say?”

-oOo-