"Come onnnnnnn..." Sarah pleads with me, grabbing my free hand and trying to distract me from the task at hand.

"Nope," I say with a smile as I look at the increasingly-beautiful girl in the mirror in front of me. Smiling, I dip Sarah's mascara brush back into its tube and apply more of the wonderful make-up to my eyelashes, increasing their volume with every single stroke.

"It's my make-up, I get to apply it on you!" Sarah orders, pouting in my direction. "Come onnnnnnn, I haven't put make-up on you in weeks!"

"What type of girl doesn't know how to do her own make-up?" I ask as I finish with Sarah's mascara and start applying pale lilac eye shadow to my eyelids.

"Actresses," Sarah retorts. "Glamorous models all have their make-up done for them."

"Well, I'm not an actress," I retort smugly as I finish with the eye shadow and rummage in Sarah's dresser for the tube of lipstick she (secretly, of course) bought me for my birthday last month. "And I'm HARDLY a model."

"No, but you are oh, so glamorous," Sarah softly purrs. "Looking for something?" I turn and face my girlfriend, who is twirling in her fingers the thick black tube I had been searching for.

"Give me back my lipstick," I command, reaching toward Sarah, who simply skips away, giggling as she pops the top off the lipstick and exposes the wet, red tube inside. "You wouldn't dare..."

"You're wearing my make-up, it's only fair I wear some of yours," Sarah says with a giggle as she liberally applies the lipstick to her already made-up mouth. "You can have it back now, if you want."

"Thanks," I say, taking the lipstick from Sarah, "but it's the stuff on your lips that I really want."

"Well it's on my lips now," Sarah retorts. "How do you intend to take it back?" I grin from ear to ear as I lean in toward Sarah and surprise her with a long, lingering kiss, allowing her- or should I say, my- lipstick to transfer from her lips onto mine. Sarah is shocked at first, but quickly submits to the kiss, even playing with my bra strap on my otherwise bare back.

"Ooh, you sneaky cow," Sarah snipes as she picks up a tube of her own lipstick and repairs the 'damage' caused by the kiss. I follow suit with mine, trying not to laugh and inadvertently get lipstick all over my teeth!

"Girl love forever," I giggle, holding out my hand to Sarah, who reciprocates, pressing the back of her thumb and the bed of her index finger against mine so they make a heart shape. This has been our 'secret handshake' for a while now- it's innocuous enough that we can get away with doing it whilst at school, but still intimate enough that it reminds us of just how much we love each other.

"Girl love forever!" Sarah states as she pulls out the outfit she's selected for me today. Following my encounter with her gymnastics leotard in December Sarah's decided that she loves wearing leotard-like garments (and therefore, so do I), so the first article on her bed is a stretchy white bodysuit. It has a snap crotch, so I pull it over my head before fastening it together over my black tights. Sarah then hands me a grey pinafore dress that I eagerly pull over my head, before pulling on Sarah's new black ankle boots. The boots by themselves would be good enough, but the chunky 2.5" heel on them makes them all the better!

"This is a look I saw Charlotte Hutchinson wear once," Sarah explains as she brushes my hair out. Well okay, she brushes my wig out- I've been growing my hair longer since September but it's still a few months away from anything that would look passably feminine.

"I can't believe you're still obsessed with that girl," I chastise Sarah as I pick up a magazine with the aforementioned supermodel on the front cover. "Or why the media insist on ramming her down everyone's throats."

"I guess it's because she's succeeded despite her family falling apart," Sarah explains. "She's talented and beautiful but hasn't let the fame go to her head."

"Yet," I snipe. "Is she more beautiful than me, though?" I pout expectantly at Sarah, who barely restrains a giggle as I look expectantly into her eyes.

"Well..." Sarah says, prompting me to widen my eyes and lips to their maximum extent in the neediest pout I have ever managed. My pout quickly changes to a smile as Sarah's resistance cracks and she wraps her arms around my neck.

"No, you're still the most beautiful girl I know," Sarah says, giving me a quick kiss. "Charlotte will just have to settle for most beautiful girl without a Y chromosome!"

"I still can't believe you haven't told your mother yet about not wanting to be a doctor," I say at Sarah's mention of biology. "I mean, you have two whole folders full of clothes you've designed, ask her for a sewing machine and start making them! You know I'll happily model them for you..." Sarah groans and holds onto me tighter.

"If only it were that easy," Sarah complains. "You've met my family, you know that if you don't have loads of letters after your name, you're nothing in their eyes. The only reason they let us get away with it is because we're only fifteen. Anyway, let's stop talking about this and let me paint your nails!" I giggle as I splay out my fingers for Sarah, who quickly coats each nail in a dusky pink colour.

I stay dressed and made-up for the rest of the afternoon until the time comes to put 'Nikki' away for yet another week. Once my make-up and nail polish is removed and I'm back in my boy clothes, Sarah leads me downstairs to bid me farewell, but before I can leave the house I'm intercepted by Sarah's mother.

"Nick," Beverly says seriously, but not sternly, "I'd like to speak to you before you go. You too, Sarah." Nervously- like any teenager who thinks they've been caught doing something they shouldn't have, Sarah and I sit down on the sofa as her mother addresses us.

"A while ago you told me that you haven't been having sex," Beverly begins, easing my nerves slightly- we still haven't had sex (neither of us are sixteen yet), so we won't be lying to her if we say we haven't. "I believe you when you say that you both want to wait until you're both sixteen. However, I have noticed that you spend virtually all your time when you're here in Sarah's bedroom. You say you're watching DVDs, and I believe you when you say that, but I also believe that's not all you're doing." Beverly inhales deeply through her nose before continuing. "Recently I've been noticing a lot of clothes in Sarah's laundry that I don't recall buying for her. Obviously she's fifteen now and can buy whatever she wants with her money, but the amount she has seems larger than it should be. I've also noticed that she's going through cosmetics at a much faster rate than she should be as well. As you probably know, I am a counselor who specialises in helping people with gender dysphoria- or transsexuals, to use the common term for it- and I'm going to ask you a question now that I don't want you to be offended by, but I just want you to give an honest yes or no answer to. I promise I won't get angry, no matter what answer you give. Nick, have you been wearing my daughter's clothing?"

My heart pounds loudly in my chest and my mouth dries up completely as Beverly confronts me. I knew being with Sarah was too good to be true, I knew it would come crashing down eventually, I'd just hoped to have some warning before it all came to an end. I take several nervous, shallow breaths before attempting to answer, but Sarah starts speaking before I get the chance.

"Mum, what you need to understand-" Sarah begins, but I know I've been cornered, and I have only one way out.

"Yes," I say quietly, causing Sarah to gasp and protectively grab my hand. "Yes I have." Beverly nods solemnly, but Sarah is defiant.

"I am NOT going to stop seeing Nick," Sarah states bluntly, giving my hand a tight squeeze. "It was my idea to let him wear my clothes. He- she enjoys it. We're not 'boyfriend and girlfriend', we're 'girlfriend and girlfriend'. And I love Nikki." I almost break down in tears at Sarah's public declaration of love for me.

"And I love Sarah," I quiver, squeezing Sarah's hand in return.

"I see," Beverly says stoically. "You've put me in a difficult position. On the one hand, obviously I don't want you to continue wearing my daughter's clothing, but on the other hand, I can see that the two of you do genuinely care for each other. It wouldn't be fair to stop the two of you seeing each other- whilst you have gone behind my back about this, you haven't lied to me when I asked you about it, and I do respect that."

"Nikki has her own underwear," Sarah explains, defiantly interrupting her mother. "It's in with mine but I know whose is whose so we don't wear each other's-"

"I wasn't done," Beverly said firmly, effortlessly silencing Sarah. "As I said before, I have experience in helping people with gender dysphoria, and some of these people were a lot younger than you are, Nick. I want you to tell me now- and again, I want an honest yes or no answer- would you rather live out the rest of your life as a girl?" Again, this catches me by surprise. My dressing sessions with Sarah may have come to an end, but Beverly hasn't split the two of us up. This question, however, is one I've run through in my mind a million times, especially since I started being with Sarah.

"I... don't know," I say honestly. "But I think I would, yes." Sarah leans in close to me, her own body clearly trembling with nerves.

"How does it make you feel when you're being a girl with Sarah?" Beverly asks.

"Happy," I answer truthfully. "I feel like I can do whatever I want, be whoever I want. When I'm a boy, I just feel... trapped. When I'm a girl I feel free." Beverly nods, then says something that almost makes me sick with nerves.

"You need to tell your parents," Beverly firmly states. "You clearly have some degree of gender dysphoria. Whether or not you are decisively a girl trapped in a boy's body I can't say for certain without speaking to you- and to Nikki- further, but bottling it up won't help you or anyone."

"I- I can't tell my parents," I complain, tears welling in my eyes. "They'd kill me! They'd actually kill me!"

"No they wouldn't," Beverly reassures me.

"Yeah," Sarah concurs. "Don't forget I've met your parents, they seem really nice!"

"You don't know dad," I blub, tears running down my cheeks. "He's a massive homophobe!"

"Nikki," Beverly says softly, "you are hardly the first person I've spoken to who's had this problem. You certainly won't be the last. There are literally thousands of people in the country going through what you're going through right now. If you don't want to tell your parents immediately that's fine, but the longer you put it off, the harder it'll be."

"I can hardly go back to school after the Easter holidays wearing a skirt, can I?" I ask petulantly, but much to my relief, Beverly laughs at my sarcasm.

"You truly, honestly wouldn't be the first," Beverly says with a warm smile. "There is nothing wrong with the way you feel, Nick, morally or physically. It's a simple fact of life that some people are more comfortable being the opposite gender to the one they were born into."

"Thanks," I whisper, drying my tears with Sarah's help.

"I'm still not happy with you wearing Sarah's clothing," Beverly explains firmly. "However it'd be wrong- and hypocritical- of me to say that you shouldn't dress in the way that makes you feel comfortable and happy, and it's not like Sarah hasn't swapped clothes with her friends in the past. So you can continue for now, provided that every item of clothing you wear goes straight in the wash once you're done with it."

"Thank you, thank you!" Sarah says, jumping up and giving her mother a quick hug before sitting down next to me and once again grabbing my hand.

"I can see how much this means to both of you," Beverly says softly. "I guess it's just sod's law that my daughter's first boyfriend would turn out to be transsexual. In future, though, when you do dress together, I want you to be downstairs so that I can keep an eye on you."

"Nikki was planning on coming over on Tuesday," Sarah explains cautiously.

"Well," Beverly says with a smug smile- the same smile her daughter inherited- "that'll be the perfect opportunity for me to meet her then, wouldn't it?"

I leave Sarah's house with a sense of extreme optimism. Not only is my desire to be a girl being accepted, but it's almost being encouraged by Sarah's mother.

That night my sleep is filled with multiple confusing dreams brought on by my excited state. The most vivid dream of them all is, once again, myself wearing a wedding dress, stood in front of an identically-dressed Sarah, leaning in to kiss each other as the priest says 'you may kiss the bride'...

I get more homework done on Sunday and Monday than I have at any other point of my school life. The two days seem to drag so slowly that I'm eager for any distraction to help pass the time. I barely sleep on Monday night through my desperation to get to my next 'Nikki day'.

Sure enough, when my alarm clock goes off on Tuesday morning I'm already awake and eager to jump out of bed and get round to Sarah's as fast as I can. I shower thoroughly, making sure I'm as clean as possible for Sarah's delicate clothing, before having a light breakfast and hurrying out of the house, much to my parents' bemusement.

Sarah greets me with a hug as I arrive at her house, and unsurprisingly, her mother is stood directly behind her, fixing me with a determined stare.

"Good morning, Beverly," I say nervously.

"Good morning, Nikki," Beverly replies stoically. "Do you need some time to get ready?" I unhesitatingly nod.

"Please," I say, much to Sarah's delight as the other teenaged girl grabs my hand and leads me up the stairs into her room.

"You know," Sarah says as she shuts the door, "I thought this would be less exciting if mum discovered what we're doing, but in a way it's almost more exciting."

"I know the feeling," I concur as Sarah opens a drawer in her dresser.

"This, from now on, is 'Nikki's drawer'," Sarah explains. "Mum's said that you're not to wear any of my cosmetics any more, so I got you some foundation, mascara, eyeliner and eye shadow yesterday. It's only cheap stuff because there isn't much left of your budget, I hope you don't mind."

"No, actually it's good to have my own stuff," I say, inspecting the new items.

"We never shared underwear in the first place," Sarah continues, "but mum's also said that you need to start to build your own wardrobe, so starting from next week, I'm going to start looking in charity shops for stuff for you, is that okay?"

"Like I said, it'd be good to have my own stuff," I repeat. Sarah grins and gives me a quick hug.

"I have to go downstairs whilst you change," Sarah explains, "just so mum doesn't get in a flap. I've picked out a skirt and top for you to wear and you've got your make-up right there, so just come down whenever you're ready." With that, Sarah gives me a quick kiss and leaves me alone in her haven of femininity. I waste no time in stripping off my boy clothes and picking out a bra and a pair of panties to change into. Sarah's left me several pairs of thick socks to stuff into the bra cups to fill them out, which I quickly do, before I pull on a new pair of opaque black tights. After fully making myself up, I pull on the clingy dark grey top Sarah laid out, before pulling on the knee-length, black A-line skirt. After fixing my wig into place and ensuring that my look is perfect, I take a deep breath and open the door to Sarah's room, carefully heading downstairs to where my girlfriend and her mother are waiting for me.

"You must be Nikki," Beverly says, offering me a light, feminine handshake that I eagerly reciprocate. "Sarah's told me all about you." I smile warmly at Beverly's unconditional acceptance of who I am and sit down on the sofa next to Sarah, who gives me a quick, tight hug.

"Even just looking at you now," Beverly begins, "there's a certain air of happiness that just comes off you."

"Thanks," I say with a warm smile. "All of this just feels so... Right."

The three of us spend the next hour talking about my life and what I, as Nikki, want for the future. On several occasions I find myself unconsciously performing some feminine mannerism or allowing my voice to raise higher than its normal pitch. Beverly correctly observes that during these occasions, I actually forget I'm a boy.

It's almost noon when Beverly drops yet another bombshell on me.

"It's almost time for lunch," the middle-aged doctor announces. "Where do the two of you want to go to eat?" Both Sarah's jaw and my own drop at Beverly's candid announcement.

"What, you mean, like, outside?" Sarah says. "You're saying Nikki should go outside, dressed like this?"

"I don't see anything wrong with what she's wearing, other than she maybe has too much make-up on," Beverly says with a knowing smile. "And she's our guest, we can hardly leave her on her own whilst we go out now, can we?" Every time Beverly uses a female pronoun to describe me, I feel a little warmer inside. "Sarah, fetch Nikki a pair of flats and one of your coats to wear," Beverly commands to Sarah, who dutifully obeys.

"This is- I-" I stammer, wanting to say something but unable to make out the words.

"Nikki," Beverly says softly, never breaking eye contact with me, "I know this is a big step, but if you're serious about one day living your life as a female, it's one you'll know you'll have to take eventually. The way you're dressed, you'd more than pass as a girl."

"What if I run into someone I know?" I whimper, trying to control my rampaging nerves.

"Sarah and I will be with you every step of the way," Beverly reassures me. "If we're asked we'll say you're Sarah's cousin, visiting for the Easter holiday."

"What if I need the toilet?" I blurt. Beverly simply chuckles, not losing even a shred of the air of confidence she's projected all morning.

"Go before we leave," Beverly states. "If you need the toilet whilst we're out, I'm sure Sarah will go with you. Nikki, if you don't want to go out today then obviously I can't force you to go, but the more we speak the more convinced I am that you are in fact a girl trapped in a boy's body. You yourself have said you would prefer to be female rather than male. If you want to back to being a boy then that's fine, but if you want to go down the path toward being a girl, you'll have to take this step eventually. Why not take it now, when you know you're safe and amongst friends?" Everything Beverly says makes sense to me- and I'm still in a state of disbelief that she's actually encouraging me.

"Okay," I whisper, trying to muster up even a shred of self-confidence. "Let's do it." As Sarah descends the stairs, I take the ballerina flats and girly coat she's holding and quickly slip them on, before turning to face my newest confidante.

"Actually," I say hesitantly to Beverly, "could I use your toilet first?"

An hour later, the three of us are sat around a table in a coffee shop a couple of miles away from Sarah's house. We enjoyed a light meal of a sandwich and a cookie- my nerves wouldn't let me eat anything else- and a very sweet cup of hot chocolate.

"How are you feeling?" Beverly asks me as I grip my cup to warm up my still ice-cold palms.

"Less anxious than I was," I confess. "I keep thinking I'm going to be found out at any moment. And there's the little things, like remembering to keep my knees together or legs crossed, keeping my hair out of my face..."

"Things that you perfected months ago at home, in private," Sarah reminds me. "Honestly Nikki, you are SO a girl. Remember how when you started, you use to have a hard time just sitting down wearing a skirt? Half the time you ended up sat on your panties. Yet here you are, wearing one of my loosest-fitting skirts and it's tucked under you like you've been wearing them all your life." I grin at the feel of the lining of the skirt moving underneath my nylon-covered backside as I shift in my seat.

"Possibly because I HAVE been wearing them all my life," I say with a smile. "Well, all Nikki's life, anyway." Sarah grins and gives my hand a quick squeeze.

"That reminds me," Beverly announces, "if you're to continue being a girl you'll be needing your own clothes. Sarah tells me you've been giving her a 'clothing budget' to get you underwear and cosmetics?"

"That's right," I answer.

"I'll put £20 into it, we'll get you some clothes from a charity store that can be your own," Beverly states. I'm almost in a state of shock- not only is this woman encouraging my fantasy, she's actually helping to pay for it now!

"I-I can't accept that, really, it's too much!" I stammer.

"Nonsense," Beverly stoically states. "You're my daughter's girlfriend, that means you're practically family. And I can easily spare £20 just this once."

"Seriously," Sarah interjects with a warm, beautiful smile, "mum has a REALLY well-paid job. I ask her for £20 for clothes and make-up all the time. I don't always get given it, of course..." I giggle girlishly as Beverly shoots a stern look at her daughter.

"I'd- I'd be honoured, thank you so much," I reply.

"Well then," Beverly announces. "Time to go shopping!" Sarah and I cheer as we depart the cafe.

We arrive back at Sarah's house just after 5 with two shopping bags in tow, filled with cheap but wearable clothes from various nearby charity stores. I have two skirts- one denim miniskirt, one black skirt similar to the one I'm still wearing- three tops, two with long sleeves and one with short sleeves, like a girly t-shirt, and a floaty summer dress for when it gets warm. That saw my £20 donation from Beverly disappear completely- and I had to chip in some money of my own (though I was happy to do this)- but as I'm packing the clothes away in the 'Nikki drawer' in Sarah's room I feel a tingle of excitement run through my body.

"Go on," Sarah says with a smirk, "model YOUR new skirt before you put it away!" I grin and strip Sarah's skirt off, not feeling any embarrassment at my panties being visible through my tights, and stretch the new denim skirt over my hips. It's a good fit- better than Sarah's skirts, in fact- and feels so comfortable once it's fastened, as does my other skirt when I try that one on.

"Next shopping trip," Sarah announces, "we're going to get you some shoes so you can come out shopping with me whenever you want!"

"Yes," I say firmly. "We are definitely going to have to do that. I want to go out again. I want the whole world to see Nikki."

"Whole world..." Sarah begins as she retrieves her make-up remover from her drawer, "except your parents?" My smile falls into a deep frown as Sarah sets about removing the make-up from my face.

"I really, really wish I could just chuck all my boy clothes away and go back to school after the holidays in a skirt," I confess as the femininity is unceremoniously erased from my face.

"Then do so!" Sarah practically yells. "You have people on your side, Nikki. People who love you. You know my mum will back you up if you go home wearing your new clothes."

"The same mum who you haven't told about your dream of being a fashion designer?" I shoot back, wincing a little at how personal my snipe was. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

"No," Sarah says firmly, having finished removing my make-up. "You know what? You're right. If you're brave enough to face the world as Nikki, then I'm brave enough to face my mum. I'll be waiting downstairs once you've changed." With that, Sarah gives me a quick kiss and marches out of her room. I change back into my boy clothes, and as I head downstairs I'm amazed at just how self-conscious I feel wearing my clothes. For the first time in my life, I feel as though I'm actually a girl pretending to be a boy. I guess that deep down, that's exactly what I am.

When I reach the lounge, Sarah and Beverly are waiting for me. Sarah- obviously brim-filled with nerves- takes a deep breath and begins speaking.

"Mum," she shakily announces, "there's something I need to tell you."

"What is it?" Beverly asks, concern seeping into her usually controlled voice. "Sarah, if you're pregnant-"

"I'm not," Sarah says firmly, grabbing my hand. "I promised you we'd wait until we're both sixteen, and that's what we're going to do. It's about school."

"Your reports show that your grades are okay," Beverly says, obviously trying to figure out ahead of time what her daughter is trying to tell her. "Your biology could be a little higher, but it's nothing you can't work on..."

"I don't want to be a doctor when I grow up," Sarah blurts, squeezing my hand hard as she tries to keep herself from collapsing into a ball of raw emotion. "I know that's what you always wanted but I hate biology, I don't want to be a doctor..." Beverly's face goes perfectly stoic at the revelation.

"I thought that was what you always wanted," she says. "Ever since you were little, when you used to play doctor with your cousins. You made me get you that doctors and nurses playset when you were seven..."

"...Because I like dressing up," Sarah confesses. "I love fashion. I want to be a designer when I'm older, I want to make clothes." Much to my girlfriend's- and my own- relief, a warm smile spreads over Beverly's face.

"You know," the older woman tells her still-petrified daughter, "all you had to do was tell me? Obviously it's too late to change your GCSEs now but we can always enroll you in a fashion college after they end." Sarah's jaw drops- clearly, she was not expecting this reaction.

"You- you mean you're okay with this?" Sarah asks, astonished by the reaction.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Beverly asks. "It's a good enough career and I'm sure if you work hard enough at it, you can become the best there is it at it. And most importantly of all, if it's what you think will make you happy, then it's what you should do." Sarah almost breaks down in tears, and after giving me a quick hug, leaps up and allows her mother to tenderly hug her.

"I just thought- because the family are all doctors- because-" Sarah breaks down in soft sobs of relief and happiness at finally unbottling the secret she'd held her whole life.

"Don't do something, don't be anyone just because that's what other people say you should be," Beverly says, casting a knowing glance in my direction. "If someone truly loves you then they'll accept you for who you are, even if it's not who you're pretending to be." Inside, I feel as if all of Sarah's nerves have been poured into my body. Beverly is right. I am only pretending to be a boy. One day, I will pluck up the courage and tell my parents the truth, just like Sarah told her mother just now.

One day. But sadly, deep inside I know it's not going to be today...