"So what happened to your nephew Mark?" Denise asked. "Did Marcie come instead?"

"Yeah, sort of," Jane replied, laughing. "It's a funny story–"

Before she could start, I blurted out, "I'm Mark. I'm her nephew Mark."

Denise answered the door in her bathrobe. She had been sick with the flu, she explained. "I'm fine now. And I'm not contagious. I'm just a little snuffly and tired."

She let us in, washed her hands, set some cookies on a plate, and started boiling water for tea.

Jane introduced me as her niece Marcie, but before she got any further, I took the lead and asked Denise whether she really was the principal's secretary. I was getting a little tired of not being able to speak for myself.

"Sure I am," Denise said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, uh, my aunt said you were, but..."

Denise grinned. "You figured that since she said so, it probably wasn't true, right?"

"Hey!" Jane objected. "That's not fair!"

I ignored the jab. "Uh — there was a Ms. Trujillo in the office today..."

Denise nodded. "She's just a sub from the district. I'll be back at work tomorrow."

"Oh, good!" I replied.

"So what happened to your nephew Mark?" Denise asked. "Did Marcie come instead?"

"Yeah, sort of," Jane replied, laughing. "It's a funny story–"

That's when I jumped in. As I said, by now I was fed up with being cut off before I could tell anyone that I'm a boy, so before Jane could say another word, I blurted out, "I'm Mark. I'm her nephew Mark. There is no Marcie. Only me. Mark."

At first Denise didn't believe it. The fact that Aunt Jane kept laughing didn't help, because it made the whole thing sound like a joke. Each time I insisted it was true, Jane scoffed and laughed and told Denise not to believe me. In the end I think it was my desperation that convinced her.

But what really sealed the deal was when I told her about Mr. Bruce's obsession with gym uniforms. She stopped short and said, "Oh, no... he didn't. Did he really? Oh, no..." And when I pulled the silly outfit from my bag, Denise's face went white. She sighed heavily.

"Oh, my God," she said with a frown. "I've seen that thing once or twice before. Last time was a couple of years back."

Jane took the outfit from me, shook it out and felt the material. "Wow, this thing is butt-ugly," she observed. "Where on earth did he find this relic? It reminds me of a Victorian bathing suit! And it feels like... ugh... the cheapest kind of polyester." She turned to Denise. "How can he get away with this? Don't the parents complain? I'm surprised nobody's sued him." She shook her head and shoved the outfit back into my bag. "Is this some crazy kind of kink of his?"

Denise gave an offended look. "Jane! You know him! He's a nice guy! A nice, normal, decent guy!"

"Yeah," Jane acknowledged. "But still... in this day and age..."

"Anyway," Denise told her, interrupting, "The principal doesn't condone it. I guess he turns a blind eye, because he and Bruce fought about it for years. And Bruce should be retiring soon. When he does, the whole issue goes away. For the past couple, maybe three, years, no boy ever forgot his gym clothes. So I guess the threat worked, and before that, I guess none of the boys ever told their parents. If they had, it would have been the end of it."

Jane didn't know what to say, she she gave a hmmph! Then she looked at me. "Alright. Now, back to your story. So, you had to wear that silly thing for gym class. Then how did you end up wearing all this?" She gestured to what I was wearing.

"Well... I had to take gym class with the girls," I began. I explained about Mr. Bruce's mix-up with the name, which prompted Jane to explain exactly how Marcie Graylen and I were related, and then...

"So it turned out that Mr. Bruce had a stroke, and now he's in the hospital," I told them, and the two women's jaws dropped. "What!?" they exclaimed together. Denise jumped to her feet and ran to look out the front window.

"Donnie Bruce is in the hospital?" my aunt demanded.

"I don't know his first name," I replied in a cautious tone, "but Mr. Bruce had a stroke and went to the hospital today."

Aunt Jane looked to Denise, who was still standing by the front window. "Is Alice home?"

"I don't think so," Denise replied. "Her car's not in the driveway."

"I'll try to call her," Jane said, and turning her back to us, walked into the kitchen.

I sat there for a moment, looking at the two of them. They both seemed to have forgotten I was there. So I walked over to Denise, because she seemed to be the sensible one.

"So what do I do?" I asked her.

She frowned a moment. "About Donnie, you mean?"

"What?" I replied. "No, about me. What do I do tomorrow? Can you fix it?"

Denise sighed and ruffled my hair. Jane emerged from the kitchen, poking at her phone. "She doesn't answer. I'm sending a text."

"Oh, Jane," Denise said, "You're my friend, I love you, but you just make things so crazy. How do you do it?"

Jane shot a defensive look at Denise. "What are you talking about? I didn't do anything," she said. "How can you say that?"

"If Mark had started school on time, he would have known about Bruce's fixation, and he would have been ready for gym this morning."

Jane retorted, "When you say it like that, it only *sounds* like it makes sense. There isn't any cause and effect here. This is just the way things turned out. It's just a series of strange coincidences and weird luck."

"Whatever!" I cried. "I don't care who did what, or why or when, or how it might not have happened! At this point, I just want a way out. AND, I need to get my hair cut short today, really short, before the barbers close."

"Okay," Denise said. "I'll be back at work tomorrow, and we will work it all out. Come to school tomorrow dressed normally, as a boy. Come straight to the office and we'll talk to Principal Bryant together."

"I can't come," Jane commented. "I have to work."

"Maybe it's better that way," Denise said, laughing, and Jane stuck out her tongue in response.

"Come a little early, like a half hour early," Denise told me.

"Can you just say that Marcie called to drop out, and quietly put Mark back in?" Jane asked.

"First off," Denise replied, "I never put Mark's drop through the system. So he's still enrolled. I tried to call you Tuesday, but couldn't reach you. I even tried, sick as I was, on Wednesday, but of course I couldn't find you.

"Anyway, if Marcie doesn't show, I'm sure Bryant will want to call or visit her home to make sure there are no bad feelings or serious problems. Plus, I don't like to do underhanded stuff. Especially when there's no need to. You know that. It's best to come clean with Bryant. He's a good guy.

"And *I* can cut your hair, Mark. I have some clippers somewhere in the house. If all you want is a crew cut, I can buzz all the hair right off your head. Okay?"

That sounded great to me. I was glad that Denise was finally in the picture. Clearly, my aunt was a flake, like my mother said, and I couldn't rely on her to be the adult. Denise, on the other hand, was a responsible adult, and she at least, had my back.

Denise took another look out the front window.

"You always were the sensible one, Denise," Jane complimented. "I knew you'd work it all out. But there's another alternative I think we ought to explore..."

"And what alternative is that?" Denise prompted.

"What if Mark remains Marcie?" Jane asked. "For the rest of the semester? After that, he goes off to New Jersey, and no one will be the wiser."

I rolled my eyes. Of course, my aunt had to get some last cracks in. As long as she could joke about this, she would. But I knew Denise wouldn't go along. It was too crazy and silly and stupid. Denise would never. I looked from my aunt to Denise, and then it was my jaw's turn to fall.

Imagine my surprise and alarm when I saw Denise's thoughtful frown turn slowly into a laughing smile.

"Well," she said thoughtfully. "He does make a cute girl."

© 2006, 2007 by Kaleigh Way