Being Christina Chase | Chapter 33: When Worlds Collide

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit ..." she repeated as she hyperventilated. She ran into her bedroom and stared at the piles of clothes. The mess was one thing, but how could she explain all the male clothing? "I'll just tell them I have a boyfriend," she reasoned aloud, "And he's out of town ..."
 

Being Christina Chase

Chapter 33 - When Worlds Collide

by Admiral Krunch

        Christopher Chase stared at the clock on the wall. The second hand rounded twelve yet again, and Bill was now officially running forty-five minutes late for his shift. Of course, this wasn't a surprise.

        The first thing Chris had done when he'd returned from Oak Grove was take the night shift at the convenience store across the street from his apartment. Bill's shift started at eight o'clock in the morning; the same time Chris' ended. In the month Chris had been working at the store, Bill had yet to arrive on time. Forty-five minutes, however, was a new record.

        An old man in a rumpled hat and a trench coat came to the front counter. He paid Chris for a cup of coffee and a copy of El Diario, the local Spanish language daily. Chris yawned, "Thank you for shopping Handi-Mart." Taking almost no notice of Chris' remark, the man rushed off to work. Chris had seen the man dozens of times before, but they had never actually spoken.

        Chris had assumed that working nights would afford him opportunities to go on interviews during the day. It was a fine plan, but in the month he'd been home, he had yet to go on a single interview. It was probably for the best; Chris still hadn't recovered from his nearly month long stint as Christina Chase. His eyebrows were still delicate arches, and he retained his long golden mane. He couldn't bring himself to spend the money for a haircut unless it was right before an actual job interview. Worse than that, his waist had yet to resume its former masculine shape. Chris spent every day hiding his feminized body in baggy jeans and loose fitting sweat shirts.

        None of this actually mattered. No one in the city actually looked at one another. It was a rare occasion when Chris would actually make eye contact with a customer. It was amazing just how quickly life had changed; Chris had gone from being the center of attention to invisible, overnight.

        The speaker mounted on the front door beeped three times as Bill rushed in through the front door with the hood of his navy blue parka drawn tightly over his head. He pulled off his coat and tossed it into the back room. "Dude!" he yelled. "I totally slept in this morning. Sorry man."

        "Bill ... forty-five minutes." Chris complained as he shuffled groggily out from behind the counter.

        "Yeah, I know. My old lady comes home last night, and she was like we gotta talk and shit. You know what I'm saying man? Woman kept me up until three, talking about our situation."

        Chris wandered into the back room where he took his oversized leather coat off a nail hammered into the filthy drywall. "I don't care about the situation," Chris yawned.

        "I know man, I'm on the same wavelength!" Bill shouted. "She was all like you got no future ... and you smoke too much pot ... I'm thinkin', keep talking bitch- you just make me want to smoke more!"

        Chris pulled on his coat and picked up a brown paper shopping bag off the floor and walked back out into the store front. "I can't keep covering for you Bill," Chris complained with a depleted voice.

        "Yeah, but you did man," Bill said enthusiastically. "And I'm not gonna forget that. You're okay, Karl."

        Walking towards the door, Chris said, "Chris. My name is Chris."

        Bill replied, "Right dude, I knew that!" He then put on a pair of headphones, and was dead to the world.

        The door beeped again as Chris left the Handi-Mart. He shivered in his leather coat; not only was it not suited to winter weather, it was far too large to provide any serious insulation. Chris watched the sun as it sat low in the sky over the neighborhood through bloodshot eyes. A month of working midnight to whenever Bill showed up was taking its toll. It was almost enough to make him miss working insane hours for Mr. Patel. There was at least some measure of dignity in his old position. Seeing the sunrise every morning was positively demoralizing.

        Chris forced his aching legs to carry him three blocks to Roland Medgar's pawn shop. He knocked on the door, and a short, angry, balding man pointed to the "closed" sign in the barred window. Chris knocked again, and old Roland took notice of who it was. He unlocked three locks and a large bolt and let Chris in.

        The man limped across the cluttered room to a large metal fence. He locked himself on the other side and stuck his head out the hole made for the counter. "I don't need any more televisions or couches," Roland sneered. "I barely moved the last one you brought me."

        "No couches," Chris yawned.

        "And no stereos neither."

        Chris walked to the counter, reached into the paper bag, and pulled out a luxurious fur-lined coat. He asked, "How about this?"

        Roland took the extravagant garment and ran his thumb down the seams. The stitching was perfect. He inspected the fur and found it was in excellent condition.

        He snapped, "I'll give you fifty for it."

        That insult was enough to wake Chris up. "Fifty? Come on, this is worth way more than fifty dollars!"

        Roland dropped the coat on the counter and shoved a bony finger in Chris' direction. "You can't come in here with hot goods and expect market value!"

        "It's not stolen," Chris insisted.

        "Fifty!" Roland repeated.

        Chris grabbed the counter with his hands and said, "I paid four hundred dollars for this coat!"

        Roland eyed the coat and asked, "And why did you need an expensive lady's coat?"

        "I didn't steal it. It was a gift ... for my sister."

        The old man picked up the coat and felt the fur again. "Your sister, eh?" he asked suspiciously. "Why don't she got it anymore?"

        Chris gritted his teeth and said, "She got run over by a bus."

        Roland spat, "Well you should have buried her in it, cause in here it's worth fifty dollars."

        Taking the coat, Chris said, "Forget it."

        Roland reached through the fence and grabbed Chris' hand. "Seventy-five," he said, "and there ain't anyone else who'll take it off your hands."

        "Fine," Chris sighed.

        Roland pulled the coat into his pen and counted out a stack of five-dollar bills. He slid the stack to Chris who suspiciously counted it. "This is only sixty," Chris complained angrily.

        Roland closed the door to his cage and said, "I know it is! You still owed me fifteen dollars for the men I sent over to pick up the couch!"

        Closing his eyes, Chris muttered, "Fine." He crumpled the brown paper bag and tossed it on the floor. He then zipped up his leather coat and tensed his shoulders in a vain attempt to hide his neck and chin under the thin collar.

        After a ten-minute walk through the freezing winter morning, Chris arrived at the front door of his apartment building. Unlocking the door, he ignored his mailbox. The only thing that could be in there was bills, and he certainly wasn't going to pay them today. Mentally chastising the architect of his building for omitting an elevator, he started on the six story trek up the creaky stairs. Chris could barely stand by the time he got to his floor. He dragged himself down a deserted hallway. He thought it had been strange when he used to come home so late that almost everyone in the building was already asleep. It was equally bizarre to arrive so early that no one was home.

        The old, worn lock struggled with Chris' slightly bent key but eventually gave in. Chris practically fell into his apartment and cursed the light that pierced through his dirty windows. The front room was nearly completely bare of furniture. The marks on the scratched floor were the only evidence of Chris' sofa and two chairs. The table in the corner and his old television were also gone. The only item left was a hutch against the far wall. He'd only kept that, and a folding chair, to act as a makeshift desk for his computer. He still needed some way to scan the job boards.

        The light on the answering machine next to the computer flashed relentlessly. Chris didn't bother to check the messages; he knew who they were from. Nina had called at least twice each week. Alek and Misha still called every Sunday like clockwork. Chris never answered the phone, nor did he call his family back. It was all part of his clean break strategy. He knew that eventually he would have to change his phone number.

        The bedroom was a miserable sight. The two blankets were bunched up into a mound in the middle of the bed, and the floor was covered with piles of dirty laundry. Chris sat of the edge of his hard mattress and looked at the stacks of cardboard boxes. Those were all of his girl clothes. For weeks, he had kept them safely locked away. Ever since he'd returned to his apartment, he'd stopped his practice of wearing female attire to bed. Though his girl pj's were far more comfortable than his male clothes, he'd made a promise to himself to regain his manhood. Still, it took him weeks to bring himself to sell any of it off.

        Keeping his feminine wardrobe fed his delusion that his next visit to Oak Grove was just around the corner. It was a crutch, and it had to stop. The coat was the first item he'd sold. That was somehow fitting; It was the last thing he'd bought as Christina Chase, and it was certainly the most frivolous.

        As Chris looked at the boxes on the floor, he was forced to admit to himself what he'd been hiding from for a month. The truth was, that being Christopher Chase didn't quite feel right anymore. He'd sold off nearly everything in his apartment rather than his clothes.

        Chris took off his jacket and tossed it onto a pile of dirty laundry. Reaching under his sweatshirt, he traced the outline of the delicate silver cross that hung around his neck. It was the only piece of Christina Chase left; it was the only part he would allow to remain. That tiny cross reminded him that somewhere there were people who still loved him, even though they were impossibly far away. Chris took off his necklace and placed it next to his alarm clock. He vowed that no matter what he had to sell or what he had to do to get by, he would never part with the necklace his uncle had given him.

        After kicking off his pants and releasing his hair from its ponytail, Chris got into bed and pulled the blankets over his shivering body. Realizing that if he intended to keep the heat turned down, he'd have to invest in more blankets. Even though Chris had been working the night shift for the past month, there was still something unbearable about going to sleep while the sun was up. Reaching behind his head, he pulled a pillow over face and went to sleep.

 

        The alarm clock blared to life at five in the afternoon; the dreary beginning of Chris' inverted day. Sitting up in bed, he mashed the button on top of the clock. Never getting much real sleep in his rock-hard bed, Chris had developed permanent bags under his eyes, and it seemed as though he was always yawning. He picked up the same jeans he had taken off that morning and put them back on. Ignoring the bathroom, he went into the kitchen and poured a bowl of dry Cap'n Crunch. Taking the bowl in one hand, he popped a few pieces of cereal into his mouth with the other. He chomped as he walked into the living room and sat down at his computer. This was how he spent most of his inverted days, searching in vain for jobs. He managed to send out a few resumes each week, but between the poor job market and his lack of experience, no one had responded.

        Chris' fruitless search was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. He ignored it and steadfastly clicked from one job description to another.

        When answering machine picked up, Chris heard Nina's voice. "Christina?" Nina called, "Where have you been? I have to talk to you- it's really important I've got to talk to you right now! ..."

        Chris had been ignoring Nina's calls for a month. He didn't want to, but he couldn't think of any other way to make Christina disappear. Though Chris was able to avoid taped messages, but he couldn't bear to ignore Nina while she was begging him to answer. Picking up the phone, she said, "... Hey Nina ...."

        "Where have you been?" the girl cried. "I left you a hundred messages!"

        "I know Nina," Chris said guiltily. "I've just been so busy with stuff lately. I wanted to call you back, really. I just got in the door right now. I was on a big interview today ..."

        "You still don't have a job?" Nina asked in a worried tone.

        "No, not yet. I had a few offers," Chris lied, "but you can't just take the first thing that comes along. I'm sure I'll have something soon though."

        Nina said gravely, "Christina, Mom found the money."

        "About that ... I just couldn't take that money from you and Andrei. I know you wanted me to have it, but-"

        "No, you're not listening," Nina interrupted, "MOM found the money."

        "So?"

        "You left a thousand dollars in the kitchen, and Mom found it." Nina took Chris' silence as in indication that she didn't quite understand the gravity of the situation. "In an envelope with NO ONE'S NAME on it ... So she opened it ..."

        "Nina, just put your mother on the phone and I'll explain everything."

        "Christina, you don't understand! Mom made us tell her what that money was for. Mom and Dad KNOW that you don't have a job, and you don't have any money."

        "It'll be fine, just put her on."

        Ignoring her older cousin, Nina continued, "She was absolutely furious, and she sent Dad to get you."

        "... She did WHAT?" Chris gasped.

        "She sent Dad and Andrei to bring you home."

        Chris' brain froze. He made sounds into the receiver that were meant to be words, but they never quite achieved that status.

        "Christina, we haven't heard from you since Christmas! And Mom knows you don't have a job. What did you think she was going to do?"

        "Put your mom on the phone right now!" Chris pleaded.

        "She's not here," Nina explained, "She's running the store."

        Christina panicked. "Well they can't come here!" she shouted.

        "It's too late. Dad left this morning."

        "Oh my God," Chris gasped, "What time is it?" She scanned the room three times before realizing there was a clock on the answering machine. "Nina, this is super important- What time did Uncle Alek leave the house?"

        "I'm not sure ... ten? Not later than eleven, I think."

        Chris counted out the hours on her fingers. "Oh crap!" she squeaked "That puts them here in another hour ... two if I'm lucky. Nina I gotta go!"

        "Go where? You haven't said a word to me since you left," she said angrily. Chris' body burned with guilt, but it was nothing compared to what she felt when Nina said, "I miss you."

        "I miss you too Nina, but I have to go right now. I promise, I will call you as soon as I can."

        "Okay," Nina said in a hurt voice.

        "Bye Nina. I love you."

        Chris hung up the phone and pulled on the strands of flat, greasy hair that framed her face. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit ..." she repeated as she hyperventilated. She ran into her bedroom and stared at the piles of clothes. The mess was one thing, but how could she explain all the male clothing? "I'll just tell them I have a boyfriend," she reasoned aloud, "And he's out of town ..." It was no good. Her uncle would never approve of her living with a man. All of it had to go, she realized; it was the only solution.

        Chris hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the box of trash bags from under the sink. Running back to the bedroom, she began filling bag after bag with all of her masculine possessions. She stacked the bags in a giant pile in the middle of the floor, then moved on to the bathroom. Men's razors, deodorant, shaving cream; none of it belonged in Christina Chase's apartment. After sliding everything off the sink and into a trash bag, she ran into the kitchen.

        She searched the kitchen and the living room; anything that vaguely suggested that a boy lived in the apartment was tossed into trash bags. Dragging the bags back to the bedroom, she added them to the rapidly expanding pile on the floor. She then stripped off every stitch of clothing on her body, and shoved the garments into the top bag. Convinced that nothing escaped the purge, she opened the bedroom window and stuffed all of her boy things onto the fire escape. Once every bag was hidden, she pulled down the window, locked it, and dropped the shades. Standing naked, except for her silver cross, Chris was shaking both from the cold and her anxiety.

        Examining the bedroom, Chris felt her heart pounding in her chest. Christina Chase's apartment is clean, she thought. The apartment had to be spotless before her uncle arrived. Running back into the kitchen, Chris filled a dingy plastic bucket with soap and water. She frantically swept and mopped every square inch of exposed floor in her tiny apartment Twenty minutes later, the floors could almost pass as clean. Though Misha would have noticed the shoddy job, she gambled that Alek and Andrei might not. Grabbing a bottle of Fantastic, some rubber gloves, and a roll of paper towels, Chris performed a cursory cleaning of the kitchen and bathroom.

        Returning to the bedroom, she looked at her alarm clock and saw that an hour had already past. "Fuck me!" she shouted in desperation. One by one, she opened the cardboard boxes containing her girl clothes. She filled the closet with her impressive array of dress and blouses. Every drawer was stuffed with bras, panties, sweaters, and all manner of female attire. She arranged her vast collection of shoes in neat rows on the closet floor. When every nook was filled, it dawned on her that her girl wardrobe was so large, that it couldn't fit in her tiny bedroom. She folded up the empty boxes and stacked them behind two filled boxes of clothes that had nowhere else to go.

        Chris rummaged through her dresses. Her uncle would arrive at any moment, and her only hope was to talk him into letting her stay. She didn't just need to look like a girl, she thought, she needed to make herself pretty; it would give her an edge in what was going to be a very difficult negotiation.

        Running her hands through her hair in frustration, Chris looked at the split ends between her fingers and her heart sank. Her hair was a travesty, and her nails were jagged and chewed. Feeling her legs, she felt the beginnings of hair. Something had to be done.

        Pulling on her waist cincher, she was shocked to find that it nearly slipped off of her waist. She wondered, was it possible that she'd lost that much weight? Taking the cincher off, she threw it into her closet. She then pulled out a white cotton bra and panty set and a pair of socks. She slipped these on and then bent down beside her bed. Pulling out a box out form under her bed, she took her breast forms and stuffed them into the cups of her bra. Not bothering with the gaff, she folded her penis between her legs and stumbled painfully to the closet. She took out her favorite pair of jeans, and a thick green sweater. Next, she grabbed her sunglasses from the nightstand and ran into the bathroom. Putting on the glasses, she fussed with her hair in the mirror. She was not yet pretty, but she was unquestionably Christina Chase.

        Christina rushed into the living room and threw on her oversized leather coat. She dashed out of her apartment and ran down the stairs so quickly that she almost fell several times. As she ran out the front door, the cold air nipped at her cheeks and nose, but she didn't have time to notice. Looking around anxiously, she saw no signs of her uncle. Convinced the coast was clear, she jogged across the street to the Handi-Mart. She took one last look at her reflection in the window, and adjusted her sunglasses and hair. She had taken to wearing her long hair back in a ponytail; with her greasy blond locks obscuring her face, and her dark sunglasses hiding her eyes, she prayed that no one would recognize her.

        As Christina slinked into the Handi-Mart, she kept her head down, maneuvering past the few people in the place to the stand of toiletries near the back. She grabbed a can of shaving gel, a package of pink razors, and a stick of women's deodorant. As she moved down to the next shelf, she selected the most expensive shampoo and conditioner the Handi-Mart had to offer. She scanned the counter looking for other essentials; certain there were more things she needed, but Christina was short both on time and money.

        Bending down further to the bottom shelf, Christina winced when she saw the box of tampons. She reached out but stopped short of touching the dreaded item. There were both tampons and maxi-pads. Some of them were "super" others were "light." Some of the pads had "wings." Some of the tampons had "easy" applicators. "Do I need a fucking decoder ring?" she whispered angrily. It was a humiliating nightmare. Amy had sent Christina to the store for such items in the past, but always with specific instructions. Christina knew that she was supposed to have these items in her apartment, but she had no idea which ones. Flustered and running out of time, Christina swiped four boxes off the shelf and headed to the counter. She stacked all the items next to the register and looked around; there was no one behind the counter.

        "Hold on, I'm coming," Bill's voice echoed over the sound of a flushing toilet. He walked slowly out of the back room, adjusting his belt along the way. As he took his place behind the counter, he lazily scanned Christina's items.

        "Bill?" Christina squeaked, "What are you still doing here?"

        "I'm pulling a double shift today," he said this as though working a double shift at the Handi-Mart was a herculean task. "Gotta make the bucks, you know what I mean?" Sizing up the grungy, but attractive girl in front of him, he asked, "Do I know you?"

        "Uh ... no ... you don't know me," Christina shrugged. "You know what it is? I bought coffee in here this morning."

        "'kay," he replied.

        "... and I saw your name tag- Bill," Christina said, pointing to his chest.

        "I don't know ... I woulda remembered you," he said with a tepid grin. Bill scanned each item until only the stack of feminine hygiene products remained. "Damn, looks like Aunt Flo came back with a vengeance."

        Feeling insulted on a number of levels, Christina sneered, "Yeah. Just ring it up."

        "Whoa kitty, retract the claws!" Bill flirted. He gave the girl a smirk he thought was charming, not realizing that his bloodshot eyes and scruffy goatee advertised his stoner credentials to the world at all times.

        Christina paid for her girl supplies and skulked out of the store in abject humiliation. Back on the street, she scanned the area for any signs of an old green truck. Still nothing, she thought. She jogged across the street, and ran up all six flights of stairs. As she surmounted the last step, Christina tripped and crashed painfully onto the floor. Her bag slapped onto the ground, and all her purchases scattered. Rolling onto her butt, she groaned in pain.

        "I got it," muttered a strange and gritty voice.

        Looking up, Christina saw a gaunt man in dark blue jeans. His dirty green shirt hung open, exposing the stained muscle shirt underneath. He was an older man with gray speckled stubble, thin eyebrows, and sunken eyes. Christina vaguely recognized him as the creepy guy who lived four doors down. She had become aware of his presence only recently, as he was one of the few people who was always home during the day. Rising to her feet, Christina watched the stranger lethargically stuff her shopping bag with the spilled items. The man wordlessly held out his hairy, tattooed arm and handed the bag to Christina.

        "Thanks," Christina choked. She was sure the stranger's dull eyes were stalking her as she went down the hallway to her apartment, and a shiver ran down her spine. Her hands trembled slightly as she tried to fit her key in the lock. Once she landed the key, she quickly opened the door and leaped inside her apartment. Locking and bolting the door, she waited for her heart to stop pounding. "Focus," she told herself. She didn't have time to freak out about Mr. Creepy living down the hall. She also couldn't afford to let anyone else see her dressed as a girl.

        Christina took her supplies into the bathroom and started putting them away. When she got to the feminine products, she opened one box of pads and one box of tampons, throwing a couple items from each box into the trash to simulate use.

        With everything stowed away, she ran a hot bath. Letting the water run, Christina returned to her bedroom. She stripped out of her clothes, and put her breast forms back in their box. Next, she put on a soft pink bathrobe, grabbed the box of her female parts, and returned to the running water. She put the box on the toilet seat and let her robe drop to the floor. Arranging a few towels, the bag of pink razors, and the shaving gel next to the tub, Christina turned off the faucet and stepped gingerly into the invitingly hot water to soak her legs. After waiting a few minutes, Christina raised her left foot out of the water and lathered it up with shaving gel. Taking one of the razors out the package, she carefully shaved the scant blonde hairs off her slender leg. She dipped her leg back into the bath water, and repeated the process on the underside. Half-expecting her uncle and cousin to burst into the apartment at any moment, Christina did her best to relax during the process.

        Satisfied with her now completely smooth leg, she repeated the process on her right leg. With both legs shaved, she sat up and examined her chest. Like the other parts of her body, there was only a slight blonde fuzz. Christina lathered up her chest and removed the few hairs that were there. She stood in the tub and looked into the mirror. She didn't have any hairs on her back, and she found only a few on her belly; which were easily removed as well.

        The girl took a deep breath then turned her attention to the blonde bush between her legs. The hair had yet to fully recover from her last professional waxing, but there was enough there that Christina felt something had to be done. She lathered the area and meticulously shaved it with a fresh razor. It was the first time Christina had ever shaved her bikini area, and she didn't want to make any mistakes. That spot alone took as long as both of her legs. The ordeal complete, Christina sat back down in the tub and washed between her legs. Rolling over, she reached between her butt cheeks with her fingers. Examining between her cheeks and around her rosebud, she found no trace of hair; her backside had never recovered from Lucille's brutal Brazilian waxes.

        Christina pulled the drain on the tub and stepped out. Grabbing a bottle of hand lotion from the shelf, she sat on the edge of the tub, working the lotion into her chest, legs, and her bikini area. It did very little to quell the itchy sting, but she knew it would be worse later if she did nothing. With the heavy lifting out of the way, Christina faced herself in the mirror. She was depressed to realize that even without makeup, she still looked like a girl. She examined her chin and found nothing that could have been mistaken for respectable stubble. Still, she lathered her face with pink gel and shaved.

        With her body now baby smooth, Christina stepped back into the tub and ran the shower. She wetted her long blonde hair and massaged strawberry scented shampoo into her scalp, taking the time to soak and caress every strand of hair on her head. This was very different from her showers as a boy. They were short and functional affairs. Christina Chase, however, was engaged in a very serious beauty ritual. She rinsed the shampoo out of her hair and repeated the process. Finishing with one last round of conditioner, she stopped the shower.

        Standing in the shower, Christina pulled a bath towel off the rack, and gently patted her naked body dry. Then she towel dried her hair, stepped out of the shower, and stood in front of the mirror. Picking up the hair dryer and a large brush, she blow dried her hair though she didn't style it just yet. Even though it was still a mess, Christina's hair was more lustrous and voluminous than it had been in weeks. She'd forgotten just how good truly clean hair felt after a hot shower.

        Now it was time for the last step. Christina pulled her artificial vagina out of the box and held it up to her crotch. Squeezing her tiny penis into the attached gaffe, she pulled it back between her legs, applied some adhesive gel to her bare crotch and pressed her counterfeit sex between her legs. After counting out one hundred and twenty seconds, she let go.

        Next she pulled out two mounting pads from the box. She applied the adhesive gel to the back of one of the pads and expertly aligned it on her chest. She repeated the procedure on her left side and returned to the box for her lifelike breast forms. Attaching them to the pads, Christina carefully fitted the seams until they blended into her own flesh. She cupped her breasts and held them for two minutes then let them go, feeling the familiar weight of her bosom.

        Christina examined herself in the mirror again. Christopher Chase was lost. From her slender shoulders down to her dainty toes, Christina Chase was a girl. She turned and examined her waist in the mirror. Between diets, waist cinchers, and eating next to nothing for the last month, Christina had a naturally waifish look; she no longer needed any help to give her a feminine figure.

        Christina returned to her room and riffled through the dresses that hung in the closet. She selected an extremely feminine, white floral dress that she had worn to church with her family. It had a wide neckline that would expose her chest, though not much cleavage. Christina laid it out on the bed then selected a white satin and lace panty, bra, and garter set. She put these on and searched for a pair of nude stockings. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she rolled the stockings up her long, hairless legs. After clipping the stockings into place, she stepped into the dress. She zipped up the back of the dress, and tied the attached pink sash behind her back in a large bow. Ruffling through her drawers, she found a long pink ribbon. She held it to her waist to see whether it would match the sash as she mindlessly stepped into a pair of heels and walked back to the bathroom.

        With a heavy wooden hairbrush, Christina sculpted her long blonde hair into a feminine style. Since her hair had only grown longer over the last month, she had to modify her normal look so that less hair was falling in front of her face. Leaning back, she wrapped the pink ribbon around the base of her head, and tied it into a bow so that it crowned the left side of her forehead.

        Christina was now dressed, adorned by pink bows. Looking at herself, Christina thought that the ribbon in her hair made her look as though she was only sixteen, but, as Richard had astutely pointed out, Christina Chase was a daddy's girl. Christina knew she had to play that part if she were going to manipulate her uncle into allowing her to continue living on her own. The only thing to do, she thought, was to plead and pout her way out of this mess. Decorating herself in bows and lace was all part of the strategy.

        Fetching her cosmetics bag from the bedroom, Christina stood in front of the only mirror in her apartment. Things would have been a lot easier if she'd brought her vanity back with her, she thought. As Christina reached into her bag and found a pair of tweezers, she frowned. Somehow, plucking her eyebrows was more demoralizing than shaving her legs or even her privates. After a month, her eyebrows had only just lost a slight bit of their sculpted look. Now, here she was plucking them yet again into delicate arches.

        With the painful plucking behind her, Christina went to work on her face. It was hard for her to remember a time when she didn't know all the female mysteries of lip gloss and blush.

        As Christina put away her makeup and took a step back, she saw Christina Chase, in all her glory, standing in the mirror. She was like a bright star shining against the backdrop of the dreary apartment. She pouted at herself in the mirror, and twisted a strand of her long hair with her finger.

        After a few moments of pouting practice, Christina lugged her makeup bag back into her room. She spritzed herself with some perfume and finished off the transformation by clasping her silver cross around her neck. As she went to the living room, Christina thought the sound of her own heels echoing through the empty apartment was bizarre. Stopping at the thermostat, she turned the heat up. She didn't want her uncle to know that she was skimping on the heat to save money.

        Christina sat in the wooden chair in front of her computer and daintily crossed her legs. As she stared at the door, she realized her uncle wasn't about to burst in at any moment. Somehow, it was very anti-climatic; she'd spent hours rushing against the clock, and her uncle and cousin were nowhere to be found.

        Christina booted her PC and fired up minesweeper. The suspense was maddening. Maybe they got lost, she thought. Maybe Nina was wrong; maybe Alek and Andrei realized this was crazy and had turned around. Oddly, that last thought made Christina feel a little disappointed. Though she didn't want to deal with the situation, she found that a part of her was actually looking forward to seeing her uncle and cousin.

        Christina clicked nervously around the minefield and died for the third time; Minesweeper wasn't a game you could play when you were on edge. Her eyes darted repeatedly to the clock in the taskbar. It was almost nine o'clock now. She was going to have to work quickly to persuade her uncle to leave. She wondered how it would be possible to accomplish that feat and somehow turn back into a boy in time for her midnight shift at the convenience store.

        And then, the buzz from the intercom cut through the silence of the empty apartment. Christina's heart skipped a beat as she hurried to the tiny metal box on the wall and held down the button. "I'll be right there," she called. Grabbing her keys, she rushed out the door, moving as quickly as her heels would allow down the six flights of stairs. As she reached the vestibule, she saw the familiar, towering silhouettes in the doorway. After taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door, and smiled broadly.

        "Andrei!" she gushed, throwing her arms around her cousin.

        Andrei gave her a squeeze, lifting her off the ground. "Hey," he replied as he put his younger cousin back onto her feet.

        As Christina saw her uncle, she realized just how much she'd missed him. She forgot all of her pouting practice, and her bottom lip began to quiver. She whispered, "I missed so much Uncle Alek," as she wrapped herself around her uncle's thick torso and rested her head against his chest.

        Alek stroked the girl's long blonde hair with his thick fingers and said, "Tina sweetheart, why did you not tell me you needed help?"

        As Alek released her, she explained, "I didn't want you to worry. And I can explain about the money; Nina and Andrei were just trying to help me out, but honestly, I don't need it."

        Alek took Christina's tiny hands in his and studied them. He saw that the girl's arms were thin and weak. Holding Christina's chin, Alek moved her face from side to side. His niece's face was tired; he could see the bags under her eyes through her makeup.

        Christina could tell what the older man was thinking. Turning her head away in shame, she insisted, "I've got everything under control Uncle Alek. I'm sorry you had to come all this way for nothing."

        Looking disapprovingly around the paint peeling off the walls, Alek commanded, "Let us go upstairs and see where you live."

        Christina nodded, and she led the two men up the ancient stairs. "I've been kinda rearranging things lately," Christina said as she led them down the dark hallway. "It usually looks a lot better than it does right now."

        "I'm sure it's great," Andrei offered cheerily.

        Christina unlocked her door and stepped inside. As she turned on the light, her uncle and cousin followed her inside. Alek's look was one of concern.

        Andrei looked around the empty apartment in shock. "Nice place you have here ..." he quipped.

        Christina's cheeks burned with shame, and she didn't dare look either man in the eyes. "It's not like this all the time," she insisted.

        Alek walked around the front room, inspecting as he went along. He noticed the marks warn into the floor where the couch and chairs had once stood. He asked, "Where is your furniture Tina?"

        Christina shook her head nervously and said, "I'm rearranging things right now."

        "Where?" Alek demanded.

        Christina stared at the floor and whispered, "I sold it."

        Andrei was still looking around the room in shock. It was completely empty save for the computer station. As he walked around the room, he noticed that the only items adorning the walls were pictures from Christina's first visit to Oak Grove.

        Christina raised her eyes slowly to her uncle's and took note of the look on his face. It wasn't remotely angry; it was wracked with worry.

        Moving into the kitchen, Alek continued his appraisal. The kitchen was clean, but humble; four wobbly chairs framed a small circular table. Opening a few cupboards, he found a meager collection of cups and plates. It appeared as though his niece owned only three bowls, none of which came from the same set.

        Andrei was still looking around the living room. He looked out the window and drank in the view of the alley below, seeing a dark labyrinth of pipes, brick, and fire escapes.

        Alek pressed on to the bathroom, then to the bedroom. Christina quietly trailed two paces behind her uncle. Facing his niece, Alek asked, "This is how you have been living?"

        "Uncle Alek," Christina said, "It's not this bad all the time. I just need to find another job." She bit her lower lip then insisted, "I'm doing okay."

        Alek looked around the bedroom. And repeated, "Doing okay." As he walked around the room, the old floorboards creaked under his weight. "Why did you sell your furniture, Tina?"

        Christina shrugged and lied, "I just wanted to try something new."

        "Tina ..." he demanded.

        Hanging her head, Christina admitted, "I needed the money to make rent."

        "And what about next month?" Alek asked.

        "I've got that taken care of. Almost," Christina said, recognizing that this was not going at all as she'd planned. "I do have a job," she offered hopefully. "I'm working at the Handi-Mart across the street. It's enough for now, and I'm working nights so I have plenty of time to look for a real job during the day."

        "You are working at night? At a convenience store?"

        Christina gritted her teeth, realizing she'd just made a fatal misstep.

        "Andrei!" Alek called.

        Andrei came into the bedroom and quickly took stock of the meager bed and night stand.

        "We are staying here tonight," Alek explained to his son, though the man's eyes were trained on Christina. "Tomorrow," he said as he motioned around the room with his hand, "we will pack all of this into the truck, and we are taking Christina home."

        "Uncle Alek!" Christina pleaded.

        "No, Tina," the man said firmly, "I will not allow you to live like this."

        "Hold on a minute!" Christina begged. "Can't we at least talk about this?"

        "No," He said gruffly. "I will not have you living alone in this ... place. The city is not safe. And you are not to work one more night at that convenience store."

        Christina whispered, "I have to be there at midnight."

        "You are finished, as of right now," Alek boomed.

        "If I don't go, there'll be no one to run the store," Christina explained submissively.

        Alek squinted his eyes as he put the pieces together in his head. He asked, "Are you saying that you have been working at that store by yourself?"

        "Yes sir," the girl squirmed.

        "Tina!" he boomed. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?" Alek threw his hands up in the air and paced angrily. "What sort of people hire a girl to work all alone! And in the middle of the night, no less!"

        "Uncle Alek," Christina pleaded, "I have to go."

        "I forbid it!" he said with an air of finality.

        "Yes sir," Christina frowned. Wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, she said, "So, I'll quit working at the convenience store, and I'll find another job."

        "Tina," Alek said tenderly, "You cannot ask me to leave you here."

        "But this is where I'm supposed to be," Christina's lower lip quivered. "I know it doesn't look like much, but this is my place. I worked really hard for it."

        Alek said, "I know you did. But, you should not be on your own. You are so young."

        "I can take care of myself," Christina insisted.

        "By selling everything you own?"

        Christina sat down on the edge of her hard bed and hid her face in her hands. Sitting down next to her, Andrei reached his long arm around her narrow shoulders and pulled her close to him.

        Looking up at her uncle, Christina begged, "Why don't you just sleep on it? Stay the night, and we can talk about it in the morning. I know my street looks scary in the dark, but it's really not a bad place to live. And yeah, I sold off my crummy, old furniture, but I'm going to have a new job really soon. This is just a bad time, you know?"

        Alek looked unmoved.

        "I mean, if you came here a few months ago, you would have been so impressed; you would have been so proud of me."

        Alek said, "I have always been proud of you, Tina."

        "Please, don't make up your mind until tomorrow. Okay?"

        "Tina," Alek answered, "I am not going to change my mind."

        "So then you don't have anything to lose," Christina countered. "It's late, and you've got to be hungry." Pointing towards the kitchen, she said, "I'll make a nice dinner. You can see that everything isn't as bad as you think."

        "I'm starved," said Andrei.

        "See?" Christina said to her uncle. "I'll fix something right up," she said as she looked back and forth between her uncle and cousin. "We can have a nice meal ... and take some time to think about things before we do anything hasty."

        "Fine," Alek conceded half-heartedly. "But you are not going to work tonight."

        "Right," Christina agreed quickly. "Absolutely. I'll quit that job, I promise. There's lots of other places I can work."

        "And I will make my final decision tomorrow," Alek added.

        "Yes. So, you and Andrei just make yourself at home, and I'll just go fix something in the kitchen."

        As Christina rushed nervously into the kitchen, Andrei followed faithfully, taking one of the creaky chairs. He spun it around backward and sat at the kitchen table.

        Christina filled a glass with tap water, and placed it in front of her cousin. She then went immediately to her cabinets trying to find something to cook for her guests.

        Andrei looked over his shoulder, watching his father enter the bathroom. Turning his attention back to his cousin, he took a drink from his glass, then choked loudly on the hard city tap water and pushed the glass away.

        Christina didn't even notice Andrei choke; she was too busy searching every nook and cranny of her kitchen in desperation. As she gave up, she held her hand to her forehead in frustration.

        "What's wrong?" Andrei asked.

        Christina's eyes fluttered nervously. "I don't have anything in the house," She explained. "I'll have to run to the store and get something."

        "Good," Alek said as he entered the kitchen. "While you are there, you can tell them you quit."

        Christina frowned, but she did not dare challenge her uncle.

        "Andrei," Alek commanded, "Go with your cousin."

        Andrei stood up, but Christina shook her head testily. She rushed to the front room and took her leather coat off the hook on the wall. Slipping into the coat, she complained, "I can handle going across the street by myself." As Christina opened the front door and stepped out into the hallway, she froze dead in her tracks upon seeing the stranger she had bumped into earlier that day. He was standing in his open doorway holding a half-empty beer. She gasped and quickly retreated into her apartment. "Andrei!" she called, her voice wavering. "Come with me."

        Andrei picked up his glass to take a drink before leaving. He took a hard look at the slightly cloudy water in the glass, then quietly put it down. Putting on his coat, Andrei rushed to Christina's side and escorted her down the hallway.

        Taking Andrei's hand, Christina squeezed it tightly as they passed the stranger's door. When he caught sight of Andrei, the frightening man hurriedly went back inside his apartment .

        Andrei and Christina walked across the dark street, hand in hand. As they went to the convenience store, Andrei surveyed the area. He reluctantly let go of Christina's had as they entered the Handi-Mart. Christina went over to the meager selection of dry foods while Andrei wandered around.

        Andrei had always been curious about his cousin's life away from Oak Grove. He'd known, from the day he'd first met her, that she had secrets she felt she couldn't share. It had to be something terrible, he'd thought. Something that explained the sadness that always lurked in her eyes. He'd studied every inch of her apartment, and now he was scrutinizing her workplace. He scanned everywhere for clues.

        Christina searched desperately for something she could make for dinner. Bending over, she surveyed the options on the lower shelf.

        A familiar voice said, "Very nice."

        Christina turned around and saw that Bill was ogling her ass. Standing up, she gave Bill a disgusted look. "Come on, Bill!"

        "I had a feeling you'd be back," Bill flirted.

        "Bill! What are you doing here?"

        "Double shift ... remember?"

        "Right." Christina muttered. "I dunno when you grew a work ethic; you're never on time in the morning."

        "Yeah, well you know ..." Bill squinted and looked Christina over from top to bottom. His eyes went wide, "Karl? Is that you dude?"

        "Oh shit," Christina whispered to herself.

        "Karl, you're a chick!" Bill said in awe.

        "My name is Chris," the girl whispered angrily.

        "Dude ... you're a babe! Man, maybe I do too much weed after all."

        Christina looked at the man in disbelief. She wondered, could he have been that stupid? Or had he merely fried his brain?

        Bill continued, "Man, I never realized you're a ... well you know, that you were a ..." He traced Christina's curves in the air with his hands and said, "Hottie."

        "Okay, don't say that word ever again," Christina sneered.

        "Hey, so since I'm workin' here all day anyway, why don't I, you know, hang out with you tonight?"

        "Excuse me?"

        "Yeah, or maybe we could hang out later. There's gonna be this party on Fourth Street this weekend ... Some pretty cool people are gonna be there ..."

        Christina couldn't believe she had to contend with Bill's advances on top of everything else that was happening that day. "Bill, you have a girlfriend, remember?" she objected,

        "Ta hell with her, she's not as fuckin' hot as you. Besides I'm not saying we gotta get married an' shit. You know, just start with some fucking, and see how it goes."

        Christina's jaw dropped. She couldn't believe that Bill talked to girls this way. She also couldn't think of a way to tell Bill just how utterly repulsive he was.

        Andrei walked up beside Christina and stared menacingly at Bill. "You're talking to my cousin," he said gruffly.

        "Yeah? So what?" Bill said.

        Andrei narrowed his eyes at Bill and threatened, "Stop."

        Taking a few steps backward, Bill muttered, "Yeah, whatever. That's bullshit, man." He went behind the front counter and loudly complained, "Yo, I dunno where you come from, Smirnov Ice, but in this country, that's not cool."

        "Thanks Andrei," Christina whispered.

        Andrei smirked and asked, "What are we getting?"

        "I was thinking spaghetti, if that's okay."

        "Sounds great," Andrei said cheerfully as he grabbed a few boxes of spaghetti from a shelf.

        Christina picked up a jar of spaghetti sauce and scanned the counter for spices. There was nothing present beyond salt and pepper.

        Andrei escorted Christina to the front counter, and they placed all of their items in front of Bill. Bill silently rang up their purchases and Andrei paid him over Christina's objection.

        "Do you run this place?" Andrei asked.

        "No, man," Bill said. "If you got a problem, you're gonna have to take it up with Mike."

        Andrei said, "Call Mike and tell him that Christina quit."

        "Call him yourself, man," Bill shot back defiantly.

        Andrei said nothing; he merely stared at Bill.

        Bill shrank away and muttered, "Yeah fine. I'll tell him. Doesn't fuckin' matter to me."

        Christina felt a stress headache coming on and rubbed her temples. Why did Andrei have to say 'Christina' instead of 'Chris?' It was all too humiliating. Then she realized it didn't matter anymore; now that Bill thought she was a girl, there was no way she could keep working here. She reached for her bag, but Andrei insisted on carrying them back to the apartment.

        Christina spent the next twenty minutes cooking for Alek and Andrei. The men took two of the chairs from the kitchen and sat in the living room while Christina stayed in the kitchen. She could see them discussing something, but she couldn't hear what it was. She shot suspicious glances at them while she took the boiling pot of spaghetti off the stove and strained it in the sink. After setting three places at the table, she called the men into the kitchen. Alek and Andrei returned with their chairs and the three of them sat down to an awkward meal.

        Christina said, "If I had known you were coming, I would have made something nicer."

        Andrei wiped his mouth with a folded paper towel that served as his napkin and said, "This is really great."

        Alek said, "You would have known we were coming if you would answer your phone." Alek phrased the words with concern rather than accusation.

        "I'm sorry Uncle Alek. I've been really busy."

        "I know Tina," Alek said. "But you have made us all so worried."

        "I'm sorry," Christina frowned.

        "But everything Is turning out to be okay," said Andrei optimistically, breaking the awkward silence. He stuffed his face with a forkful of spaghetti as though this was any ordinary family dinner.

        Christina didn't eat much. She sat in silence watching her cousin and uncle. Alek ate what was in front of him. It must not have been as bad as she thought, as Andrei went through three helpings before he was full. When the family was done, Christina collected the plates and mismatched silverware, and started washing them in the sink.

        Alek stood up and announced, "We should all get a decent night's rest. We will leave early tomorrow morning."

        Christina finished with the dishes and said, "You mean, we can talk about it tomorrow."

        Alek exchanged a concerned look with his son and said, "Yes Tina, we will talk first thing in the morning."

        "Okay," Christina said dejectedly. She walked into the hallway and pointed to her bedroom. "You and Andrei can share the bed, and I'll sleep out here."

        Alek went to his niece and put his large hand on her tiny shoulders. "You will sleep in your bed Tina."

        "That's not right, Uncle Alek," Christina objected. "I want you to be comfortable, and it's the only bed I have to offer." Seeing that her uncle was unmoved, she insisted, "At least take the pillows and blankets."

        Alek kissed his niece on the forehead and said, "Go to bed, Tina. We will be fine."

        Knowing better than to argue, Christina went into the bathroom and took off her makeup. After her face was clean and her teeth were brushed, she went back to her bedroom and put on a pair of purple thermal pajamas. It felt strange to be back in girls' bedclothes after a full month of being a boy, but there was something relieving about it as well.

        Christina climbed into bed and lay awake under the covers for a long time, even though it was oddly comforting knowing that Alek and Andrei were sleeping just in the other room. In spite of that fact, her stomach was in knots. She was ashamed that she couldn't have offered her uncle and cousin a proper meal or a decent place to sleep. She was also terrified that her uncle wouldn't change his mind in the morning. As much as Christina missed her family, she knew she couldn't go back with them.

        As Christina checked the clock on the nightstand, she saw that it was already midnight, and she'd never approached a state that resembled sleep. She pulled back the blankets and tiptoed into the living room. Alek and Andrei were sleeping on the floor, using their coats as makeshift pillows. Christina sneaked over to Andrei and nudged him gently.

        Andrei awoke from his troubled slumber and focused his eyes on his cousin. "Christina?" he yawned.

        Christina answered only by placing her finger against her lips. She motioned for Andrei to follow her, and he rose from his spot on the floor. He trailed Christina into her bedroom and sat on her bed. Christina leaned her head out the door and checked to see whether her uncle was aware of her activities. Convinced she was undetected, she closed the door and sat on the hard mattress next to her cousin.

        "What is it?" Andrei asked.

        Christina whispered, "I need your help." Andrei nodded sleepily, and Christina continued her pitch. "I need you to take my side tomorrow. You have to help me convince your Dad that I can stay here; help me convince him I have everything under control."

        Andrei asked, "You're kidding, right?"

        "No I am not kidding Andrei!" Christina whispered angrily.

        "Then you're crazy. This is the worst place I've ever seen."

        Christina made a wounded frown.

        Andrei held up his hands and corrected, "Not your apartment. I can only be jealous of your apartment. But this place is awful."

        "It's not that bad."

        "Not that bad?" Andrei snorted. "When we got here tonight, I saw two people shooting crack in your parking lot."

        "Okay," Christina mocked, "You know, you don't shoot crack, you smoke it."

        "Fine. I'm not a crack expert, but they were doing something. Right downstairs. And I saw where you work; I heard what that guy said to you. Those are the kind of people you have to work with?"

        "I swear to you," Christina pleaded, "He never talked to me like that before."

        "Dad is right," Andrei insisted. "We can't leave you here."

        "You have to."

        "I won't! Do you think I'd be able to sleep at night? Thinking of you here? Walking down these streets, all alone at night? No way."

        Christina stood up and clenched her fists as she paced back and forth in front of her cousin. "You have to stop treating me like I'm a helpless girl!" she fumed.

        "I didn't say you were helpless."

        "I'm not a girl!" Christina shouted under her breath. "Do you finally get it? I am NOT a girl! Why can't anyone figure that out?"

        Andrei said, "I know you're not a girl."

        "You do?" Christina asked in shock.

        "Yes," Andrei said seriously. "You are a grown woman, and you can take care of yourself."

        Christina's shoulders sank as she sat back down next to her cousin.

        She whimpered, "You don't understand."

        "Let me ask you this," he posited, "What if Nina was living here, all by herself?"

        Christina answered, "Nina's fifteen."

        "Pretend she was thirty. Would you let her stay?"

        "No," Christina whispered.

        Andrei said nothing, letting the silence make his point for him.

        "It's different," Christina insisted. "I can't go home with you. I don't belong there. I can't be the person you want me to be."

        "I just want you to be yourself," explained Andrei.

        Christina shook her head and frowned.

        Andrei asked, "Why is coming home so bad? Don't you want to stay with us?"

        "Of course I do," said Christina. "It's not like that at all. I miss you guys all the time." She leaned over and took a picture off her night stand and handed it to Andrei.

        Andrei smiled and asked, "You keep a picture of you and me there?"

        Christina laughed, "You started it." She put the picture back on her nightstand and explained, "I keep your picture there 'cause it's nice to know that there's one guy in the world who I can always count on. Right now, I really need you to help me."

        Andrei squeezed his younger cousin and said, "I'm going to help you, but that means taking you home." Christina started to speak, but Andrei cut her off her objection. "I know you don't see that right now, but it's for the best." Andrei stood up and left Christina in her bedroom.

        Christina realized that it had been foolish to try to recruit Andrei. Everything he said made perfect sense. If their roles were reversed she wouldn't have let Andrei stay in her lonely apartment, much less Nina. But Andrei didn't understand. He didn't know what he was asking her to do. Christina climbed back into bed and did her best to fall asleep. She had one last chance to make a stand against her uncle in the morning.


Edited into coherence by Holly H. Hart.
Thanks to Sephrena Miller for taking an early read.
Hope you enjoyed it. If you liked it or hated it, please leave a tasty comment.
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