He walked out of the office, headed for his class with another note in hand. He wasn't setting any record pace today. Most of the kids dodged around him, some not really noticing him, until he got near the fifth grade classes. Then she could hear the whispers start up.

“That's him....”

“I thought he was dead.....”

“I heard he killed four guys in that fight....”

“I heard his thing was cut off....”

“....yeah, he took on Bruce, Frankie and Kenny after they cut him open.....”

“.....fought ten guys and won....yeah him.....”

“...oh?....Well he got shot, that's why he's walking slow....that's what I heard....”

Tracy did her best not to burst into laughter. He moved on down a hall, headed for his class. A familiar figure fell in step next to him. “Hey Peter.”

And now for that first few days where she comes back to school

And once again, big thanks to DjKauf for the editing

December 6th 1982
Palermo School

After a week and a half of being Tracy, it had been hard for her to become Troy once more, but Troy had to be the one who went to school. So she had dressed in the loosest pants she could, mostly because of the surgery. Her mother had went with her to the office, just to leave a note with all of the doctor's information on it. After that she left, leaving Troy in the school all alone.

He walked out of the office, headed for his class with another note in hand. He wasn't setting any record pace today. Most of the kids dodged around him, some not really noticing him, until he got near the fifth grade classes. Then she could hear the whispers start up.

“That's him....”

“I thought he was dead.....”

“I heard he killed four guys in that fight....”

“I heard his thing was cut off....”

“....yeah, he took on Bruce, Frankie and Kenny after they cut him open.....”

“.....fought ten guys and won....yeah him.....”

“...oh?....Well he got shot, that's why he's walking slow....that's what I heard....”

Tracy did her best not to burst into laughter. He moved on down a hall, headed for his class. A familiar figure fell in step next to him. “Hey Peter.”

“Hey. You doing better today?” The bigger kid asked.

“I'm still sore, but moving faster today.” Tracy replied. Then he heard it.

“I heard he was in a dress.” Tracy had been working with his parents on masking his facial reactions and she was hoping she got it right. Before she could worry a new figure stepped up on his left side. He looked at the crowd and chuckled.

“Please, I was in the hospital with my Mom and Grandma when he was brought in.” Mary Beth replied to the speaker as she walked up. “He was wearing jeans and a torn shirt and they were bloody.”

Tracy looked at her and she just smiled. “Thanks.” He whispered.

“No problem.” Mary Beth said as they stopped at a classroom.

“Well, I should get going.” Peter said. “I'll meet you for recess.”

“I can't play, so I'll be working on schoolwork or something.” Tracy slumped his shoulders.

“That's cool.” Peter said before he walked off.

Tracy walked into the classroom. Mary Beth headed to a seat and Tracy just stood there waiting while the teacher was busy writing on the chalkboard. The older man turned around and smiled. “Ah. Mr. Patterson. I see you're back. Feeling better?”

Tracy handed him the note of Doctor restrictions and shrugged. “Not really, Mr. McCoy, But I'll manage.” She often wondered about her teacher. There were two Mr. McCoy's at the school. They were twins and there had been times where she wondered if she had the wrong Mr. McCoy teaching her class.

The older man read the note and nodded. “I see. So no recess and no excessive walking till Friday? I think we can manage that.” He handed the note back to Tracy. “Do you need to hold on to this, I'd rather not keep it in here, the drawers don't lock.”

“I'll take it.” Tracy replied. "They got one in the office too."

“So can you talk about what happened? Or is it still being investigated?” He asked.

“I can talk about it, but I don't want to. And I don't want to talk about this.” She held up the note. She tried to talk as little about the event, as she had started to call it, as she could. It was still robbing her of sleep each night.

“I can understand that. Well remember, if you want to talk, just come see me.” The older man smiled. “Now for the hard part. Did you manage to get the homework done?”

“Yes sir.” Tracy reached into her backpack and pulled out several sheets of paper. “That was the best part to being stuck in a bed for a couple of days. Lots of time to kill.”

“Been there myself. Being stuck in a hospital bed is never fun.” He quickly flipped through the papers, then set them down. “Now for the good question. I handed your brother a permission slip for the field trip to the dam on friday. Are you going and do you have it?”

“Yes sir.” She pulled the paper out and handed that to him as well. “Although I'm not sure how well I'll with stairs, if there are any. And they say I should walk, just not too much.”

“Still sore I take it?” He asked.

“Yes.” Tracy nodded.

“We can play it by ear. The trip isn't till Friday, so that gives you a week to get better.” He opened his desk and put the permission slip into a folder. Then he looked up at her again. “It's good to see you back young man.”

“Thank you sir.” Tracy didn't show any displeasure to being called a boy, but he was hating it, even though she had yet to make a firm decision on Tracy's true fate. He turned and went to her usual desk and for once she was glad he had taken one near the teacher’s desk. Not only was it near the board, but it was by the door. That way he had less walking at lunch time.

Mr. McCoy watched him take his seat and he began to think of what could have happened, then he added in the rumors and he got a sinking suspicion of how much pain she was really in.

As the students trickled in, she heard more of the whispers. She couldn't help but smile at the shocked expressions on people’s faces when they saw her sitting there and not dead at all. ~School will be fun~ She thought to herself as the late bell rang.

~o~O~o~

The day progressed along slower than normal. At the first recess, Peter came into the room and hung out with him, instead of going to the playground. Instead of sitting though, Tracy made several laps of the classroom, still moving slowly.

“At least you're moving.” Peter said with a nod.

“Yeah, but that hard wood seat is killing me. I can't wait to get home and onto the couch.” Tracy replied.

“Sit on your coat.” Mary Beth said from the doorway. She walked in and went to her seat. “If it hurts to sit, then sit on your coat, that gives you some padding.”

Tracy stopped and thought about it for a moment, then he grinned. “Yeah. I'll do that. Thanks.”

“You're welcome.” Mary Beth watched him walk again. “So what happened? Where were you hurt?”

“Mary Beth, I still don't want to talk about it.”

“Aw, I won't tell no one. I just wanna know.” She whined.

“And I don't wanna talk about it.” Tracy stated. “Would you want to talk about personal things that get done to you at the doctor?”

Her face went a bit red and she lowered her gaze to the floor. “Not really. Not with a boy at least.”

“Then there we are.” Tracy replied, having missed the end of her statement. Outside the classroom a bell rang and Peter stood up.

“I'll meet you for lunch. You brought lunch, right?” He said.

“Yeah, I brought a sandwich.” Tracy pointed to her bag. “I figured that I'd cheat until I felt like walking up there in a crowd of people.”

“Wanna eat here?” He asked.

Tracy shook her head. “Nah. Let's go to the benches near the library. It's not too far to walk.”

“Okay. I'll meet you here then.” Peter said as he headed for the door.

~o~O~o~

Tracy was in her own little world as she slowly made her way to the bench that she was to meet Peter at. So she didn't notice the other kid who was headed in the other direction. He was also deep in thought. Due to her slow speed, Tracy stumbled a few steps backwards, her legs struggling to make sure she didn't fall. The other kid mirrored her movements. When they stopped trying to right themselves, she looked up and saw him

Jerry Rivers just stared at her and his brain locked up for a moment. Tracy's brain kicked into gear and he looked to the ground. “Sorry, I was thinking.”

“Yeah.” Jerry averted his gaze as well. “Me too.”

Memories of Bruce danced through his mind. The questions raced through her mind, things that he had been going over during the weekend. There were things he needed to know and other things that he was curious about. But he was at the school, so either the county hadn't arrested him, or they let him go. “I...um...what I mean is...” There was also fear in her face, something he could see.

Jerry sighed. “You don't have to worry about me.”

“W-what? Why?” She asked.

“Because as soon as my Dad gets back from his business trip, I'm being sent to a military school.” Jerry replied.

“Why?” He asked again.

“You fucking kidding me?” He glared at her. “Because of last week. He said if I screw up once more I was going there. You telling the cops was once more.” Jerry's fists balled up, then he shook his head and held in a breath for a five count, then he released it.

“I'm sorry. They needed all the information.” He lied. He didn't know why he lied, but it seemed right at the time. “I was on so many pain pills I have no idea who all talked to me.” Then he wondered, but he wasn't sure why. “When will he be back?”

“Friday. He's in Maine. Look, I better get going, before the teachers think I'm going to attack you again.” He turned and headed away from her before she could ask him more questions.

~o~O~o~

Tracy sat on the couch as she did her homework. Usually their parents forced them to do homework at the table, but she had begged to not be stuck on a hard wooden seat anymore that day, so her father let her use the couch, as long as she faced away from the TV. As she worked on her Math homework, she looked up at her father and waited for a commercial break. “Dad?”

“Yes Sweetie?” He replied, not pulling his attention from the Monday Night Football game on TV.

“Dad, is it normal to think you did the wrong thing when you think it was the right thing?” She asked.

“What? What do you mean?” He turned his attention from the beer ad that was playing.

“I was thinking about that kid, the Jerry kid?” Tracy shut the book and sat upright.

“What about him?” William leaned forward. “You think you made a mistake?”

“Maybe?” She sighed. “I kinda ran into him at lunch today and he said I didn't have to worry about him because his dad was sending him to a military school.”

“Well he was with Bruce, they were going to attack you.” William replied. “He may not get jail time, but maybe this will help him pick out better friends in the future.”

“Dad, he tried to stop them.” Tracy stated. “The more I think about it, he got worried when Bruce started....” Her eyes fell to her lap and she went silent. He knew what she was talking about.

“True, but maybe that was remorse over his actions?”

“I guess.” She said, her shoulders slumping.

He shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “Okay, we'll play this your way. What do you want to do?”

“Can we maybe talk to his dad and tell him what happened? Mr. Harper said he was new, maybe he just needs better friends?” He could see that look in her eye as she looked up at him. The look that said she wanted to try this. “Maybe we could talk to Mr. Harper to see if he could arrange a meeting with his dad and us?”

William nodded as the game started up again. “Okay. You tell me what day and we'll do this.” He wanted to say he hoped she wasn't screwing up. He had heard her each night since she had come home. Each night she woke up screaming and crying.

She didn't cry this time, instead she smiled at him. “Thank you Daddy. He'll be there to Transfer Jerry on Friday”

“Okay, we'll see what we can do, but no promises.” William replied as she picked up her book again.

~o~O~o~

December 7th

Tracy went outside for lunch again, like the past two days. School was still progressing like it always did, slowly. She had been thinking of what her grandmother had said about Bruce choosing if she would remain Tracy. She had decided to wait till after the Christmas break to come up with a decision on her other self.

Peter walked through the crowd of kids and sat next to her. “Hey. How you doing?” He asked.

“I hurt and I don't want to be here, but this is better then Daytime TV.” Tracy replied.

“What about class? How is that going?”

Tracy chuckled. “I keep hearing the whispers from people trying to figure out what happened to me. And God knows Mary Beth wants the juicy information.” She chuckled some more. “I keep seeing them stare at me when they think I'm not watching and when I got up to use the restroom, I heard more gasps at how slow I was moving.”

“Sounds fun. Wish I was in your class.” Peter said.

As they sat there, a couple of more kids walked by and the whispers started again.

“….I saw him walk slowly. He had to have been stabbed in the crotch.”

“I heard they cut it off.....”

“I heard he was wearing a dress!” Someone shouted. A second later Clark Millett stood in front of them. “Isn't that right faggot.”

Tracy had been practicing with her Grandmother and father for a couple of days now, even Peter had been clued in. So neither of them got a shocked look on their face, although it was close for Tracy. Instead he just blinked and shook his head as Clark stood there.

“What are you talking about?” Tracy asked, trying to sound annoyed.

“I heard you were in a dress, dancing around the yard like the fag you are.” Clark sneered at her. The kids around her began to laugh.

“Let me guess, your brother told you that?” She asked.

A couple of other big kids came up to Clark's side and they just glared at Tracy. She knew them as Clark's cousins. “Look, it's the little dress wearing fag.” One of them called out.

Tracy looked at the blue jeans and A-Team t-shirt she had on, then she looked to Peter. “This looks like a dress?”

“I guess.” He shrugged. “But he's got the same thing on.”

“Face it fag, we all know you wear dresses.” Clark took another step closer and smacked her sandwich out of her hand. His cousins stood next to her and towered over both of them.

Peter saw red for a split second as he stood up. “Apologize now.” He said in a quiet voice as he put himself between Tracy and Clark's little group.

“Make us, retard.” Clark replied.

“I'd like to see him try.” One of the bigger boys said.

The other one laughed. “Must be protecting his girlfriend.”

Peter's hands flashed out and grabbed Clark with one hand, then twisted his hand in the kids shirt, his other hand grabbed onto the bigger of the cousins. With a grunt, Peter lifted both of them off of the ground. Not far, but enough to make sure their feet cleared the ground. Clark's eyes went wide with fear as he realized that Peter held them both. “You sure you want to say that? Cause if you do, I'll let him kick your ass like he did your brother. I'm not the one you have to worry about.”

“So you're gonna protect the dress wearing fag?” Clark said with a nervous squeak to his voice..

“Who says he was in a dress?” Peter asked. “You? Were you there that day, because I was and all I saw was him kicking your brothers and his friend’s asses.” Some of the kids who were closer began to listen as Peter talked.

“I heard he was wearing one.” Clark stated. “Bruce told me.”

Peter released his grip and both boys hit the ground, then staggered back. Tracy leaned around. “So, your brother, who attacked my Grandmother and me said I was in a dress?”

“He knows what he saw.” Clark said as he stood up.

“Right. He knows he saw a kid three years younger then him and his friends kick all of their asses.” Tracy stood up. Her voice increased in volume. “So he decided to spread a rumor that I was in a dress to make me look bad.” She looked at the students who were watching her now. “Yep, that worked. And let me guess, you'll now claim you were there too.”

“Fuck you faggot. I believe him before I'll believe you.” Clark spat out.

“So you'll believe a liar and a thief and a criminal over me?” Tracy replied.

“Look you little Faggot, I know you were in a dress. Bruce knows it too.” Clark glared at her. “I tell the whole school if I have to.”

“So you've been spreading that stupid lie?” Tracy asked. She didn't expect Clark to fall for the bait and her jaw almost dropped when he answered.

“Of course I told everyone the TRUTH.” He stressed the last word. “And I'll tell the rest of the school, till someone kicks your fagot ass.”

“No, Mr. Millett, I don't think you will.” A new voice said. All five of the kids turned to see Mr. Harper walking over to the group. “Mr. Lowery, Mr. Patterson, I do think you two should get to your classes. Mr. Millet, you and your friends can come with me and we can discuss what's going to happen for spreading slanderous rumors in school.”

Clark stared at him for a moment, then he glared at Tracy. “This ain't over, fag.”

“MR. MILLETT! MY OFFICE NOW!” Mr. Harper bellowed.

Clark turned and walked off towards the office, with his cousins and Mr. Harper in tow. Peter looked to Tracy and shook his head. “A dress?” He said with a huge grin on his face. He spoke loud enough to catch the ear of everyone near them. “That's the best lie Bruce can come up with? First he couldn't kick your ass, with help and without cheating. Now he has to try and spread that stupid lie? May as well say you're an alien.”

“Well, he does have a small brain.” Tracy reached over and grabbed his lunch, then stood up slowly, looking like he was thinking. “Oh My God.” What if...what if he said I was in a dress because he thinks I'm cute? Ugh...and Clark wants to see me in a dress too....they're both gay?” A look of disgust crossed his face. “Ugh. I'm gonna be sick now.”

The two friends walked off, leaving the other kids in their class to try and determine the truth.

Please note: The mixing of pronouns is intentional. Poor kid is still on the fence over who she is.

I had a bunch of fun trying to think like a kid and thinking of hte different stories that would crop up after someone is attacked. Next up, part two of the week of school... or is it