The next two weeks go by in a blur. Classes at school are challenging–and I love them! Homework is in overload–and I don’t mind. Socializing at school is becoming easier day by day and I find that I am really starting to enjoy the inclusion in different groups as Gwen. George was always a bit of a geek and Gwen is allowed to show that side, as well. However, Gwen enjoys her artsy side–a side that George always suppressed. I even sign up for after-school ballet lessons and find them quite stimulating.

And then–there is Amanda. I bump into her at school at times and we always share a smile. She takes me to my sessions with her Mom twice a week and we always share cocoa and a good talk afterwards. I find her company extremely comforting. We understand each other and talking comes easy to us. I find I am spending more time with Amanda now than with Cathy.

Bree and I are connecting more and more as sisters now. We talk about things that we never would have dreamed of before–well, at least me as George; I am not so sure that Jeff didn’t dream of them… My time with Bree is getting a little usurped of late, though. Fred and Joe come by quite a bit to hang out–and Bree and Fred seem to be getting along a lot better than Jeff and Fred ever did!

Bree, Cathy, Amanda, and I meet at the mall on Saturday afternoon. Bree and I are in our fourth week of school at St. Mary’s and I still love the academic challenge. I find that I am growing more and more into the person of Gwen. I also find that Bree’s now readily visible body changes are starting to bother me. She has grown over an inch taller than me and is getting her curves. I, on the other hand, look like every day old me. I am starting to get a little self-conscious about my looks.

To my surprise, we run into Fred and Joe at the food court. Later, Bree giggles and admits that she may have mentioned to Fred that we were planning on going… Bree and Fred split off from the group to go exploring in one of the department stores; it seems Fred needs a new pair of jeans…

Even more to my surprise, Cathy and Joe seem to hit it off. Amanda and I just giggle and leave the two drinking a milkshake and go to find something that will help my bruised ego. We go to a lingerie store and Amanda talks me into trying on a corset. The girl in the store and her both assure me that it will help give me some of the curves that I feel I am missing. I am pleasantly surprised that it is not as uncomfortable as I feared.

I leave the store wearing the corset and Amanda takes me to one of the shoe stores and I pick out some three-inch heels, which are a good inch taller than anything I would normally wear. I leave the store wearing those, as well. When we meet back up with Bree and Fred, I am much closer to her height–at least it feels it like it and Fred whistles at my narrower waist, which Amanda had accentuated with a tight belt. Bree playfully slaps his arm and tells him to keep his eyes off of me.

We find Cathy and Joe still sitting in the food court. We coax them out into the mall and we all just walk up and down the stores for a while. Bree is, of course, holding Fred’s hand. Before long, Joe takes Cathy’s. I try and concentrate on the clicking of my new heals on the marble floor to avoid that ‘left out’ feeling, when to my ultimate surprise, Amanda puts her arm around my waist and pulls me closer to her. I look up at her face, she is still several inches taller than me, even though I am in heels. She just smiles and gives my waist a little squeeze.

My next meeting with Cindy is awkward for me. I let her read my journal; something that I don’t have to do, but have always done. She smiles when she gets to the entry of our day at the mall–and my confused feelings. She says, “So, Amanda told me that you had a lot of fun. How did you feel when she put her arm around you?” I fiddle with a paperclip on the table and finally say, “Well, I think my journal sums it up. A little confused. I have to admit that I really liked it. I felt…good. But I don’t know if it was just because I felt left out with the others holding hands. For that matter, I don’t know if that is why Amanda did it–because she felt that way, too.”

Cindy looks at me seriously and says, “Well, Gwen, you are going to have to hash that out with Amanda. But, for argument’s sake, let’s say she is interested in you. How would that make you feel?” I fiddle some more with the paperclip and quietly say, “I think I would like it. I know Amanda is different–even as a transgendered girl. I know that she acts and dresses like a girl because that is how she feels best. I also know that she does not intend to go forward and have SRS. I don’t know what that makes me if I like her. Gay? A lesbian? Bi? It is strange…”

Cindy remains silent and lets me just reflect a bit. Finally, she says, “Gwen, Hon, does it matter? If you like Amanda, or a boy, or a girl–and they make you happy–what difference does it make who they are? You are right. Getting into a relationship with Amanda would be complex for you–the same as it would be for her with you.” She smiles and continues, “Again, I will leave that to the two of you to hash out. Just know that you have my support if the two of you decide to give it a try–and I know your mother would be fine with it, as well.”

I meet up with Amanda in the cafeteria after my session and ask her, “Do you mind if we go somewhere more private? Your Mom said we could use her conference room. I will get the cocoa.” Amanda nods and carries my books while I carry the hot cocoa to the room. Amanda closes the door behind us and asks, “What’s up? I guess Mom talked to you about…us?” I nod and nervously ask, “Yes–so, what about…us? Were you just being nice at the mall?” Amanda takes a sip of cocoa and smiles. I squirm a bit until she says, “Yes, Gwen. I was being nice–but I was not just being nice.”

I give her a puzzled look. She giggles and continues, “I have been trying to figure out how to best broach the subject with you for a while now–the mall was the perfect opportunity. I could tell you felt left out…so I took advantage of the opportunity. So that brings up the question–will you be my girlfriend?”

My stomach does a loopty loop and I take a sip of hot cocoa to hide my embarrassment. I take it too quickly and burn my tongue. Finally, I ask, “Your girlfriend? What if I decide to go back to being George?” Amanda laughs and says, “Gwen, if you decide to do that then we will just have to see how well I like George. I know I like Gwen. You are cute. You are funny. You are a shy, but real girl. I honestly cannot picture you as a guy, Gwen.”

I nurse my burned tongue a minute and say, “Amanda, you know that any relationship that we enter beyond just friends is going to be really complicated, right?” Amanda shakes her head and says, “I don’t think so, Gwen. The way I see it, I am a guy that looks like a knock-out gal. I have come to not only accept that, but embrace it. I will continue to dress like a woman and take female hormones, but I will keep the parts of my old self that I still have. I can’t have children, but I don’t mind adoption.”

She blows on her cocoa and takes a sip. Then she continues, “You are still unsure of yourself, but I am not. All I see is a girl. One that needs to come out of her shell, but a girl none-the-less. I know that there are some guy things you miss–and I am totally OK with that. I get it. But don’t deny yourself your inner peace because of a few misplaced doubts. If you want, go back to being George for a bit–but I promise you that you will hate it.”

I sit back stunned. It is the first time that Amanda has been so blunt with me about me. Amanda smiles encouragingly and takes my hand gently in hers. She asks, “So, how about it, Gwen? Will you be my girlfriend?” Still stunned, I nod and Amanda giggles as she pulls me over to her and gives me a gentle kiss on the lips.

I have never been kissed before and I certainly never expected my first kiss to be like this. I find that I sort of melt inside and pull back breathlessly when Amanda softly breaks the kiss. I shakily smile and say, “Well, I guess we should let our Moms know…”

I am in the kitchen talking to Mom. Bree is over at Fred’s house and it is just the two of us, so we are making a simple salad for supper. As we sit down to eat, Mom is telling me about some of the research she is doing, “I have not really found much, Gwen, but it only makes sense. It is why I pushed a little hard on you trying out Gwen. The leading theory is that transgendered children, among other things, are flooded with the opposite hormone of their physical gender in the womb. This creates a dichotomy between the child’s physical and psychological gender. If that is true, there is no way that Bree could have been influenced and you were not…”

I munch on my salad and mull over that. I swallow my bite and ask, “But that can’t be the only factor, right? I mean, look at me. I am growing into this–and admittedly it is feeling more and more right–but if that was the only factor, then I should have been as fully committed to this as Bree.” Mom nods and says, “There are many things that factor in. Your upbringing for one. You were always a lot closer to your Dad than Bree. She was always more a Momma’s girl, as you know–although, she never would have helped in the kitchen like you.”

She giggles and continues, “Anyway, your more intense contact with your Dad probably influenced you to override your internal desires–to build up those ‘male’ expectations. Your feminine desires would have likely come out later in life, though. Your push to help Bree likely has saved you a lot of grief later in life.” I chew on that for a bit, along with my salad, and sigh. I swallow my last bite and say, “Well, this corset certainly won’t let me eat a lot, but how about we make something low-cal for dessert?” Mommy giggles and we go to look through the cookbooks…

Continued in Part 10.

Next time: Break is coming up and Gwen has a decision to make.