For the rest of the weekend Kim was sullen and out of sorts. The bombshell that the old man had laid on her had exploded in her brain with deadly accuracy, destroying any optimism Kim may have hoped to have later on. As far as she could see, life as she understood it was over. Failure to execute a successful plan to just get she and Ben to the prom to unlock the mask seemed too great. What little had already changed to make that difficult could be made so much worse in the remaining weeks ahead. She dwelt on it bitterly at times. There was simply nothing effective to distract her from doing so. Sarah called several times, invited her to join her on at least two excursions to the mall, but Kim barely spoke to her. She even came by unannounced, as best friends do, but was unable to pull Kim from the morass she had slipped into.

 

More than once, Kim found herself in the midst of anxiety attacks that felt more like cardiac arrest. Her dreams were plagued with horror filled images of standing before the alter, dressed in a satiny white wedding gown, preparing to say her vows. Each night the groom was different. One night it was David Pratt, the only boy Kim had slept with (and the only one she ever would if the current Kim had anything to say about it). One night the groom had been Ben and of course, Monday night it had been Kirk, grinning his evil, malevolent, knowing grin at her, daring her to back out and run.

 

Slipping into Kim’s life right before her menstrual cycle hadn’t helped. It was a biological nightmare Kim could not ignore. If she tried, the punishment was terrible. The first three days were the worst. As natural as most women claimed it was, the event was messy and a bit stinky. Kim felt that using the word ‘natural’ was nothing more than trying to camouflage something that HAD to be dealt with, it didn’t matter if it was natural or not. It was awful, embarrassing and most of all, bleeding this way simply didn’t feel natural. She reeled at the volume of discharge from her body. Nothing that bleeds this much was meant to live, she caught herself thinking once as she tried to contain the mess her body was making.

 

But Kim didn’t bleed to death. By Monday, the worst of her flow was over and she was starting to feel better. That is until she remembered that there was a good chance she would probably be in the midst of her next period right around the time of the prom. She could hear Bob Barker saying in a disembodied voice, but we have a gift for our departing contestants…

 

Monday brought a new surprise, one she didn’t see coming until it was on her. Kim was apparently a heavy sleeper. She rose quickly, when she was awake, it came to her all at once. But it took a lot to rouse her. Kim’s mother had gotten in the habit of picking out Kim’s clothes when she had been little, then laid them out toward the foot of the mattress as she slept. Cindy would then begin preparing something for Kim to eat, wake her gently and finish breakfast and coffee as Kim showered and dressed. More often than not, Kim would change her mother’s selection for something a little less modest than what Cindy had picked for her to wear. Often this would amount to short skirts or shorter than average short shorts in the exceptionally hot Tennessee summers, jeans in fall or winter or when required, her uniform.

 

When Kim woke Monday at her mother’s gentle urging, this is exactly what she found, two tiny scraps of cloth, a shell for the top and a pleated skirt short skirt. It was blue and gold, the school colors, trimmed in white. On the floor next to it were impossibly white athletic sneakers, her dance shoes as her mother jokingly called them. “Ugh!” Kim had groaned when she saw them.

 

With the image came the Kimmories. They imprinted themselves on her mind instantly. This time, there was a trail of them that extended back three years. It was an endless stream of dances, cheers, competitions, practices and games that crowded in and taxed Kim’s ability to store information. To have seen her as the Kimmories flooded in, one might have thought she was having a mild seizure of some sort. The event was thankfully brief, only a few seconds. When it was done, the memories were hers to keep. Three years of life before Tim had anchored themselves firmly in her head. So too came the knowledge that there was no way she could avoid wearing this wretched thing today.

 

Kim’s head ached. She found a small spot of blood on the cleft of her lip, blood that had no doubt fallen from one of her nostrils. Brain damage I bet. Can’t go through something like that without causing some damage. Four and a half more weeks of this too, I won’t survive it. My poor brain will explode. She wiped it away and checked for additional bleeding, I can’t spare anymore blood either, she thought to her self absentmindedly thinking of the last three days and knowing her period had not yet ended.

 

“Kimberly?” Cindy called from downstairs, “Are you up?”

 

“If you call this up,” Kim mumbled to herself, “then yeah, I guess I’m up. I wonder how much blood a girl my size can lose and live through?” She dabbed at her nose with a tissue from her nightstand and found the bleeding had already stopped.

 

“Kim?” her mother called again.

 

“YEAH MOM, I’M UP!” Kim shouted back as pleasantly as she could.

 

After showering, Kim stood at the foot of her bed, dressed only in her underwear and stared at the costume before her. “God damn,” She whispered. “I do not want to put that on. How can you even call something that small clothing?”

 

She lifted one flap of the skirt with one finger and peeked inside. In there was a deep blue panty sewn into the skirt. “Oh man,” she whined, spun and sat down hard on her bed, holding her face in her hands. After a moment, Kim felt she had found enough courage to at least try to get it on. “Just do it. It’s not going away, just get it over with for God’s sake.”

 

Kim slipped into the skirt, zipped it closed and turned to the shell top. This was a little harder to figure out, but in short order she managed to get the tight top pulled down and after a few contortions, managed to get this too, zipped up in back. Turning to look at herself in the mirror Kim was surprised that she was actually pleased with the way she looked. Vainly, she twisted left, hand on her hips, then right and was amazed at how pretty the outfit made her look.

 

Then as though a needle had been dragged across the surface of a record with the volume at full, Kim stopped. Her eyes bugged out and she realized exactly who she was looking at. Just then the door to her room swung open. Kim jumped, started she screamed, her arms flailing in self defense. Her skinny frame bunched together as tightly as she could get it.

 

“Mom!” she cried when she realized who it was.

 

Cindy grinned, “I caught ya!”

 

“Er… caught me what?” Kim said, blushing.

 

“Admiring yourself. It’s Okay to like what you see. You’re a beautiful girl. There’s no crime in liking how you look. But, preening time is over. Come on, eat. Bobby’s almost ready.”

 

“Ah…” Kim said trying to stall, “My hair.” She laid her hands over her head, drawing her hair flat to it.

 

“Hurry Kim.” Cindy warned.

 

“Okay Mom, Okay.”

 

She didn’t spend much time on her hair after all. It wasn’t really the issue anyway. Delaying those subtle moments that made Kimberly, Kimberly, felt necessary. It felt like control, like she was able to put a barrier between what was left of Tim and the encroaching life trying to swallow her. Even if the barrier was eventually breached as it was about to be, it made her feel as though she has some control over when and where Kim could step in.

 

This effort was futile, only Kim couldn’t have known that. The body she lived in, her thoughts and memories that were becoming more and more present in her waking consciousness conspired together to make her the person she had always been. She could no more avoid being Kim than she could knowingly become the Empress of China. If she had looked around and taken note that no one had found exception in her behavior since Thursday, she might have understood this simple fact.

 

In spite of this; there was still enough of the conscious Tim left to make her feel uneasy about wearing her uniform to school. The memories of how Tim had gawked at the girls in such outfits from afar, how their blue panties had shown just below the hem line of the backs of their skirts. How, every-so-often, he would get the rare treat of what was known as a beaver shot during an impromptu practice at P.E. She knew the guys at school would be waiting, looking, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was underneath. She understood this on a level that other girls at school couldn’t possibly begin to grasp. It was a lecherous, disrespectful thing.

 

Kim searched her memories and found that the girls talked about this. They were aware of it, encouraged it and used it. Sex sold and she was surprised to find out from her female perspective just how little modesty there was connected to this knowledge. Even those girls who seemed so “pure bred” were just as sexually hungry as any guy might have been. It was a game, some times it ended with the guy getting what he wanted, but this was only when the girl wanted it to happen. Or at least, so went the illusion. There was fault in the game, imperfection that ended up in disaster at times. Not all passions could be so easily controlled, in spite of how much control the girls thought they wielded.

 

Teasing the guys made them feel powerful. It also made them feel wanted, desired. It put nearly all the face cards in their hands. Guys would bend over backward, shell out almost any price to get the prize. But what was created there was a very dangerous and powerful byproduct, lust. That lust could become a very dangerous thing at times. More than a few girls had either fallen to the jagged floor their own passions or had found that control was simply an illusion that, once evaporated, left only a harsh and dangerous landscape to exist in. That in the end, sometimes, control existed in the hands of the physically powerful. Choosing when to unleash it was the true measure of strength.

 

There was a sort of naiveté with the girls. A belief that these boys weren’t capable of the monstrous acts everyone knew existed in the world. They were after all, just boys. Each of the girls firmly believed their power over them was strong enough that, should they call it quits, should one of them want to go only so far, the boys would know they were serious and things would stop. They, after all, had what the boys wanted. It was theirs. If they really wanted it they would obey! It didn’t matter that in many cases there was never any intention to actually reward them.

 

Kim didn’t want any part of that existence.

 

On the way to school, both she and her brother sat wordlessly listening to the radio. Kim watched the mountains in the near distance as the music floated peacefully out of the speakers. He was out there somewhere, her brain told her. She didn’t have to question who it was she was thinking about. She knew his name. It made her sad to think of him. Kim could not deny knowing him, this boy from a past she had not been here to experience. She had known David Pratt, had tasted him, had smelled his lovely musk. She had held him in her arms for the most wonderful two hours of her life thus far.

 

She could not deny that she also missed him terribly.

 

Then she was shot in the head by another complete memory infusion. She gripped the arm rest of the Colony Park’s passenger door and did her best to steady herself against the onslaught.

 

They had all been swimming out back, playing Marko Polo. It was an opportunity to allow David to come close, to touch with seeming innocence in the watchful eye of her mother. She could remember slipping below the surface of the water with her brother’s goggles on to watch David’s body in relative privacy. David, then sixteen had not worn Baggies, like most of the guys. David was on a swim and dive team and wore Speedo’s.

 

She could very clearly remember the feeling of swooning at the image of his tight well defined body. Reeling at the way her nipples had hardened beneath the cups of her suit had been delicious and a bit embracing. She had has to rub them to loosen them again before breaking the surface. The sight of his body made her belly feel weightless. Even as a boy David already had superb muscle tone. His body, tanned and lean had reminded her of some of the fine marble sculptures she had seen in pictures. If he happened to touch her, she might just very well faint away and drown. Time was running out however. She didn’t want to like him anymore, she just couldn’t help it.

 

She surfaced and turned and faced the pools coping. She rested her forehead against it, pressing her legs together tightly in frustration. I love him… Oh no… I’m falling in love with him and he’s moving away in three weeks. Not fair! That is so fucking unfair! Upset, near tears, she decided to get out. “Getting out!” she cried so she would not interfere with their game. She submerged, swimming the distance across the pool underwater, keeping her eyes to the right, toward the end of the pool so no one would see that she was upset. If she could make her way to the ladder, she’d be Okay.

 

She sensed she was getting close and turned, but there had been no ladder there. Instead there had been a boy. David Pratt had moved in front of the ladder to intercept her and to ask her to stay. She had swum right into him, head first. When she looked to see what it was, or who it was she had hit, the air left her in a single belching gasp. She broke the surface, blushing and coughing.

 

“Kim? Are you Okay?” David had asked, helping to keep her above the surface with his hand around her waist. Still coughing, she nodded but she felt like air was something she would never again enjoy. David helped to the stairs and guided her up and out of the pool. Her embarrassment was complete. She had fled from the pool deck, pushing back the tears the whole way.

 

Once inside she flopped down on the couch and fought with herself to maintain control. It wouldn’t do to let anyone see her so upset over a boy. Her mother wouldn’t be surprised, but the restrictions that were still fairly new would only get tighter. If that happened, she probably wouldn’t even be able to see David again before he moved. She couldn’t let that happen. After a few minutes, the sliding glass door had opened and there stood David, dripping wet and smiling softly, sympathetically.

 

“Why did you leave?”

 

“Uh… I dunno, the sun was getting pretty hot…”

 

“That’s bullshit Kim. It’s been cloudy all day.” David called her bluff.

 

“The chlorine then ¾” The tears were once more trying to push their way to the surface.

 

“I tested the pool with your brother this morning, chlorine’s low.” David checked her again.

 

“Why are you here?” Kim asked a little bitterly.

 

“I was looking for someone to make me a sandwich and get me a beer.” David answered sarcastically, equaling Kim’s bitter bite. “I’m here to see you. Why else would I be here?”

 

“I can’t David. I’m sorry but I’m just so mad that you’re moving away. I just can’t.”

 

David had said nothing. What was there to say? Kim bent and put her face in her towel against her knees. The terrycloth towel had muffled the sounds of her sobs. To Kimberly they sounded as loud as the wails of the ghost wives of widowed sailors as they kept their vigil for their lost husbands out on the Widow’s Walks of Cape Hatteras.

 

At length David came and sat beside her. She collapsed into his lap and continued crying. “Why?”

 

“I don’t know Kim. I wish I didn’t have to.” David said. “Even if I stay with my Dad, we’d still end up moving to Florida. The house is sold.” He had held her as she cried, doubled over in his lap as she had been, convulsing and wailing, not the least bit worried if her mother had walked in right then. There would have been a fight if she had, and Cindy might not have walked away the victor.

 

When the weeping had started to subside, David asked, “Come back out with me, please Kim.”

 

Kim shook her head, “I can’t. If I do, I’m just going to start thinking about how you’re not going to be coming over to see me any more in a few weeks.”

 

“Then don’t think about it.” David encouraged.

 

“I can’t help it! Every time I look around I see places you’re AREN’T going to be.”

 

His face had seemed so sad at the time. He had gently caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “I wish you wouldn’t cry. It breaks my heart to watch you cry.”

 

“I’ll try, but I don’t want to go out there. Can we go out on the porch maybe, out on the rocking chairs?”

 

“Will you’re mother let you do that?”

 

“I’m not alone in the house with a boy. What’s the worst she can do, sick Bobby the bulldog on us?” The memory faded with the recognition of a smile she had offered him. In her minds eye was the image of his soft grey eyes, pleasant and happily dancing over her face as she smiled up at him from her place in his lap.

 

When the memory ended, Kim was weeping softly to herself. The dark purple mountains in the early morning distance lent a soft focus nostalgia feel to the memory. He was out there, he really existed. Kim thought, he’s somewhere out beyond the line of hills. She could not deny that she still loved him. With Tim screaming in revulsion, she could not deny David and what they had shared, she would not. He had not called her, had not written since he moved and still she loved him, pined for him, and she could not let him go.

 

They’re coming more naturally now, you see that don’t you? Your memories are becoming part of you. Soon you won’t be able to escape them. They’ll own you as much as you own them, then what?

 

She couldn’t answer that question. If she was unable to escape them, then she would have no choice but to do what the Wizard said and move on as best she could.

 

“Kimmy?” Robert finally asked. Wiping her eyes, heavy in the heart, she turned and smiled. “You Okay?”

 

“Sure,” she said, but offered nothing more.

 

“Thinking about David?”

 

She smiled, “How did you know?”

 

“Hey, I’m not stupid. I know you liked him.”

 

“Then yeah, I was thinking about David,” Kim said. As if to punctuate that idea, she let one more bitter tear slip out. It fell down her cheek along her nose to the slope of her upper lip. It hung there for a moment before falling off onto her uniform.

 

“He’ll call Kim. I know he will. There was a lot of stuff going on there with his folks. It was an ugly divorce.”

 

“No he won’t. He’s moved on. I will too eventually I guess.” Kim turned back and stared out the passenger window and let her tears run dry. By the time they made it to school, Kim was more her bright and cheerful former self.

 

“Okay, I’ll be here ¾”

 

“ ¾at three o’clock, yes Bobby, I know, same time as every day. Love you.” Kim said happily and trotted off.

 

Robert watched after her for a moment. He was surprised to see that she hesitantly answered the calls from friends wishing her a good morning or just stopping to say hello. To Robert, it looked almost as if she was unfamiliar with the faces of her friends. The behavior didn’t seem to last long however, only brief seconds. He watched her stiffen for a moment. She seemed to stare off into the distance, disconnected from the moment and just as quickly she was back. Soon Kim was conversing, blabbing away in that same familiar style many teenage girls share, jabbering of nothing while they talked of everything at once. Robert lost sight of her when she was mobbed by a flock of cheerleaders, all of them bouncing around, calling out cheers as they entered the school for yet another fun filled Spirit Day. They’d be doing that all day long, wherever they went, when they passed each other in the hall, the cheers would break out.

 

Robert chuckled to himself as he pulled away from the curb. “Kids,” he muttered amused.

 

-*-

 

School Monday began better than her other mornings thus far. This was only because she had begun to stop resisting that which she could not change. This of course was her state of being. She was going to be Kimberly for a while, and even though it was difficult, she managed to let go of that resistance a little at a time. No one made fun of her in her uniform. Something she had feared terribly. She still felt like a boy wearing girl’s clothes. No one saw her that way. These people had never met Tim. Eventually, the simple act of simply acknowledging friends and acquaintances began to feel natural. More than that, it felt good. The loneliness of the past five days began to fade as people she knew and of whose lives she knew about approached her, spoke with her and welcomed her.

 

She allowed herself to become lost in conversation during the fifteen minutes she was in home room. She never saw Ben slip in and at the bell, slip out again. It wasn’t until after the bell rung that she remembered that she needed to tell Ben about what the old man had said.

 

In between noisy conversations that seemed to have no point, no plot and no end, Kim searched the halls for Ben. She was going to miss forth and sixth period because of the pep rally. If she didn’t catch him in the hall between classes, she would not see Ben again until tomorrow. For just a moment, the contriving of what Maurice eluded to as Fate’s plan flashed in her mind. Something told her to resist the comfortable place she was finding in Kim’s life. It wasn’t hers to have. She reminded herself that thinking that way only made it easier for Fate to stack the deck.

 

Soon however Kim was engaged in another conversation with her uniformed sisters, one where all the girls were speaking at once and yet, seemed able to grasp the deeper concepts of what was being said without once skipping a beat. Kim and her clique laughed and gasped, fawned and cheered. By the time the pep rally was over, Kim was too tired to think much about anything except the work ahead planning her team’s routine for Wednesday.

 

The cheers and the choreographed dances were etched in Kim’s mind so deeply that she briefly wondered if the infusions of Kimmories were actually infusions or something more along the lines of amnesia. She should have been scared to death when she took the gym floor for the rally earlier. But what she had remembered this morning had been more than just the moves, the steps and choreographed routines. That knowledge was something anyone could possess. What she also seemed to have remembered was the mechanics to do all of those things. That was talent, a nontransferable commodity! There had been confidence embedded in that gift as well. More than the knowledge of HOW it worked but that it would work and that she could work it. She had one misqueue, a minor one on a new routine that Stephanie Black had wanted to try.

 

Every so often, between routines, she would scan the crowd for Ben’s face. He had not shown up. If he had, she had not seen him. She did see Kirk however. He had made a point of sitting on the front row of the bleachers, directly in front of where he knew Kim would be performing. She had felt his dark eyes burning through the fabric of her costume, trying to rip away her underclothes to see what was underneath. As long as Kirk sat there, that self-conscious feeling she had had before remained.

 

Several times he tried to speak to her and she quickly turned her back on him. Twice she surprised her team by deliberately initiating cheers off queue. When she felt she pushed her luck as much as she could using that tactic, she would find a reason to talk to Coach Karnes or one of the girls on the squad. At the end of the rally, Kirk even when so far as to block the entrance to the girl’s locker room so Kim couldn’t slip past him. The flaw in his plan was that many of the girls on the team had to pee by that point and complained bitterly and loudly when he wouldn’t move. It wasn’t long before Coach Karnes forced him to move out of the way and let all the girls pass, including Kim. With Kim safely sequestered inside this most holy of holies, Kirk had no choice but to leave with the rest of the students as the rally came to a close.

 

Kim, as Captain of the squad, had the option of remaining after the rally to analyze the team’s performance and to try to identify problems before Wednesday’s game. The option was implied, but she was required to give a brief to Coach Karnes near the end of Sixth period about the performance. So the option, so called, really became a requirement. This was as much a matter of technique as it was safety. As coveted as trophies and titles were for schools, it didn’t bode well for teams who suffered heavy injuries because of poor planning. This was Kim’s primary function as team Captain,

 

Kim stopped herself. There had been no other Kim. That was me, I just can’t remember it all. The concept was a leap of faith that she hadn’t quite yet bridged. She was still struggling with the day and success of the rally. The idea alone of how something like what she was living through was maddening if you let your self think on it too long. At least I don’t look like a fool out there hopping around like my ass is on fire! That would definitely raise some eyebrows. She giggled at the mental picture this idea invoked. She set her mind on the image of it, her uniform panty smoking as she ran her skinny butt around the floor of the gym.

 

Kim sat on the grass of the P.E. field, her legs spread out in a “V” on the ground. Her playbook was between them. She was hunched over it, reading intently, as the sixth period bell rang. She lifted her head and watched in the distance as kids scrambled to get to class. Smiling she returned to her play book.

 

This was her peaceful time. Of each day, she looked forward to this day most. It was a place where she could get what she couldn’t even have at home, time to think alone.

 

While Kim sat there, an idea came to her. She smiled softly as she read, the thought she conjured pleasantly distracting her. She found she liked herself and wondered for a moment what all the panic of the last five days had been about? She was an athlete, she was also a leader. She was able to critique without being critical and to teach through example. Some deeper part of her reveled in her ability to vault and handspring, to perform physical activities that would have been impossible to do before. She found herself wanting to do this on the way out to where she now sat, simply for the sheer pleasure of being able to.

 

She had slipped only once, falling sideways and ungracefully to the ground. Even then, there had been no embarrassment associated with falling. Instead she lay on the ground and laughed at her mistake. This had not happened because of a body that was fat and clumsy but the simple missteps of a fluid form that danced like a reed in the wind. For the first time in her life she was proud to have a body that could actually do what she told it to do.

 

Mather’s had a championship athletic program and at the high school level, cheerleading was just as competitive as football, baseball, soccer, or basketball. Solid athletes meant additional grants for students. It meant that other schools came here in caravans to prospect for students for their programs, money in hand to pay for their educations in exchange for their talents. Schools such as Vanderbilt, USC, the University of Georgia and UT of course camped out to be the first in line for the privilege of being first in line. That meant futures for kids who otherwise couldn’t afford them, kids like her brother.

 

Kids like her.

 

She swallowed hard. She was assured of an athletic scholarship here. Offer’s had unofficially already begun arriving. She could not be considered for a scholarship officially until she completed her junior year. Coach Karnes however, sat on the Board of Regents for the school and could informally communicate interest to students that had been inquired about. Kim’s name had come up many times.

 

In that other world, she would only be afforded an academic scholarship in a very competitive field of students as Tim. Such a scholarship would not be afforded to a school but an entire state. One student in the state would be given such a scholarship. Ben was far more qualified to win than Tim would have been. Even if Ben hadn’t have competed for it, there were thousands beating the doors down to get it. Tim would have been near the bottom of the list.

 

“That’s what it want’s you to believe…”

 

Kim sat straight up. “What who want’s me to believe?” she said alone to the empty field. There was no answer to her question. But she thought she knew anyway and the thought of it made her shiver. She waited several moments for the voice to make its intensions plane. Nothing came. Defiance began to rise in her. Had that been the voice of Fate or some other thing playing them like pawns? She could not tell. When it didn’t answer after a measure of time, she decided to answer it herself. “I’m not staying like this,” she said out loud. “But I don’t have to suffer either. If I have to be Kim here, then so be it. I’ll act like it. I can even enjoy it. But don’t let yourself believe that I’m going to lie down and take it.”

 

She offered a stern look to the sky above her. Whatever it had been didn’t respond. After a few minutes more, satisfied she announced defiantly, “Good then, shut up.”

 

“My goodness,” a voice said very close to her. “What a strong statement for such a little girl.” She screeched in surprise and jumped almost an inch off the ground, a neat feat considering her stance.

 

The sun was in her eyes when she looked up, but something large blocked a good portion of it. Its silhouette loomed over her like an eclipsing moon. At first, the accent, and the hulking frame made her think that Ben’s father, Abs had somehow found his way onto school grounds.

 

The dark shadow of the walking tattoo returned to Kim’s living memory. She scrabbled backward in the hard, dry dirt and grass field. Inside of her, she could feel the familiar alarm begin to sound in her gut. Her bladder loosened, preparing to unload its contents. A whimper escaped her throat in her panic as she tried to get away from the hulking figure blotting out the sun. Something in her mind told her that long ago memory was somehow unfinished. She was certain that, in that long ago time when he had come to their house, Abs had found no one in the yard to protect her that day and had decided to explore her. Now he was back to finish that journey he had started oh so long ago.

 

“Whoa there little girl, not so fast,” the voice said. The moon moved forward and stepped squarely on the hem of her uniform skirt, pinning her to the spot where she sat. Kim grabbed what little exposed fabric had not fallen underneath the sole of that boot and pulled furiously at it, desperate to free it. Then the figure squatted before her and smiled. “Where ya goin?”

 

It took her brain a moment to process the image past the panic. When she did, she cried out, “KIRK!” and slapped at him. “You scared the shit out of me.” Kirk chuckled, her anger was matched only by her animation.

 

“Yeah, I got that much. Who in the hell did you think it was?”

 

“Never mind. What are you doing out here?”

 

“Just thought I come and see my girl. You know, show her the error of her ways.”

 

Kim, still tugging on her skirt to free it spat, “I don’t think so.” She finally gave up and looked at Kirk with a disgusted look, “My skirt please?”

 

“In a minute.”

 

“No Kirk, now. I told you―”

 

“As long as we’re making demands, I believe I told you something too.” Kim only stared at him. In truth, he seemed like a man who knew something about the impending future but wasn’t quite ready to reveal that secret just yet.

 

“I get a choice in this Kirk. It’s my life.”

 

“And I feel it’s my responsibility to make sure you don’t fuck it up.” Kirk answered smiling.

 

“That’s my business. I’m not property, I’m a person. I’m going to go to college, find a job I like, a career…”

 

Kirk’s face flattened out in an odd sort of, ‘what in the hell for’ look. Then he actually said it. “If you do all that then whose going to raise our babies?”

 

“BABIES?” Kim cried, her eyes as wide as saucers, her mouth a wide “O” of surprise. “I’m NOT having any babies, and certainly not YOUR babies.”

 

Before Kim could reason her way through the bizarre conversation they were having, Kirk hit her with another demeaning comment, “I think you should change your mind about that. A girl like you doesn’t need to worry about stupid things like making money and jobs and crap like that. They’re not suited for it. You wouldn’t last ten minutes on your own.”

 

“What?” Kim asked as if she hadn’t quite heard him correctly.

 

“Come on Kim, stop it. I got the message. I know how to be… well, less like me. You want someone who will act like one of those educated hoity toities… Like your brother, right? I can do that. But turning off the studly in me is going to be hard to do,” He said proudly. He stretched, flexing his bulk displaying it like plumage on a peacock. “I’ll behave, but at bed time, it’s gonna cost you extra.”

 

“Oh GROSS!” Kim yelled. She began slapping and punching at Kirk’s boot. “Get off my skirt!” she cried again, wanting nothing but to get as far away from Kirk as she possibly could. As it had the other morning, Kirk’s iron shackle hand locked around Kim’s wrist freezing it in place. “Let go.” Kim growled trying to pull free. It was futile. She could only move her arm above the wrist, everything else was locked tightly into place. “LET GO KIRK!” she yelled even louder.

 

“Shush.” Kirk warned her gravely. “You don’t want to cause a scene. If you do, someone might get hurt.”

 

Kim slowly looked up at him angrily. The threat felt real and it sounded as if it had been directly shot across her bow, meant for her. She decided to try to trump him, “My brother―”

 

“Shut up.” Kirk cut her off. “You know I wouldn’t hurt you. I love you Kim.” Kim could feel that creep factor once more climbing up her spine. She stared at him, gape mouthed for a moment until he said, “You’re gonna let all the flies in that way.”

 

She snapped her mouth shut for a moment, then shook her head. “Kirk, you don’t love me. You don’t even know who I am. You CAN’T love me. You’re feeling… horny, confused,” Kim couldn’t meet his stare. She felt that if she did she might go stark raving mad, “hungry… I don’t know, but I do know you DON’T love me.

 

“I’m in love with you. And I’m not the kind of guy that just says that.”

 

“Oh I think you are…” Kim disagreed.

 

“Kim, you’re mine.”

 

“No Kirk. I’m not. Even if you’re in love with me, which you’re not, but even if it were true, I get a say in that. I have to be in love with you for anything to work. And I’m not!”

 

“You can be. I know you can.”

 

“No Kirk,” Kim said shaking her head. She was desperate to make him see her point. For the life of her she could not understand how he could keep insisting that she might find some way to dig love for him out of her heart when there was none there to be had. The stress of it was making her feel sick to her stomach. “I can tell you that I will never be in love with you.”

 

“Kimmy, how can you be sure?”

 

“I’m pretty sure.” She pretended to mull it over. She put her chin on her knuckles as if thinking though a particularly difficult problem. Her face lit up after only a brief time and she announced, “Yep, I can pretty much say that I’m sure I’m never going to be in love with you.”

 

Kirk stood, his smile, his gentle gaze, his good nature seemed to be washed away by some unseen force. “But you love the weasel?”

 

“The weasel? You mean Ben? No, I’m not in love with Ben either. I’m not in love with anyone. I don’t have to be.”

 

“But… you’re a girl.” The notion that Kim, or any female for that matter, wasn’t pining endlessly for some guy seemed to have caught Kirk completely out of sorts.

 

“I’m a person Kirk.”

 

“You’re mine.” Kirk insisted.

 

“No!” Kim emphasized, “Now get off my skirt and let me up.”

 

“No.”

 

Kim was at a loss. She could try to undo her skirt and wriggle out of it, but she wasn’t eager to dash out across the field in her panties. “Kirk I said―”

 

“And I said no.” It was Kirk that now seemed frustrated, angrily so. Kim could almost imagine that in some twisted sort of way, he had come out here thinking that if he bore his soul to her that she would warm to him. Now he was at a loss. She had not fallen in tow. Kim could see that it didn’t matter to Kirk if she wanted him or not. This was not the real issue. Kirk saw this as a matter of capitulation. To entice her, he implied giving her the things he thought girls wanted, money, a home, safety. In short, stuff!

 

Kim searched the field for something or someone who could help. It was deserted. She grabbed Kirk’s leg and tried to move it, shoving her torso against it. It might has well have been a tree rooted deep in the soil. Then, from the egress doors of the gym, about a million miles away she saw Coach Karnes.

 

Kirk looked behind him in the direction Kim’s eyes were set, and saw Coach Karnes a second too late. “HEY COA―” Kim managed to get out of her mouth before Kirk could crouch down again and slap his steel fingers over Kim’s mouth. The mix of revulsion and anger in Kim’s eyes was almost comical. Kim however, found nothing funny in it.

 

“Don’t say a word Kimmy. I’d hate to see the Weasel loose a finger over this. Kim’s eyes turned in disbelief to Kirk who was once more smiling at her, “That’s right Kim. Lindsay and Jimmy have him in the gym. You’re my girl. You’re going to say goodbye to him today, right now or I swear he won’t live to see the prom. If he does, he’ll wish he hadn’t. Either way, he’ll wish he’d never met you.”

 

Kirk looked over his shoulder. Coach Karnes had apparently heard Kim’s cry and was rapidly making her way across the vast expanse of field in their direction. “Tell her we were just playing around, you know, lover’s horse play.” Kirk snarled menacingly. “If you do anything that goes against what I want, the weasel will be the one that pays Kim. You’re going to have to ask yourself, just how much is a pain free life worth to Ben?”

 

Kirk lifted his foot, removed his hand and hoisted her from the dirt in one fluid motion. “Don’t do it.” he warned her. He grabbed her up, enfolding her in his tree trunk arms and locked his lips to hers.

 

“Glugh,” Kim cried out revolted, sounding much like a girl downing in tar. Kirk’s tongue parted her lips and soon began driving itself into her mouth.

 

Karnes slowed her hastened pace when she saw the two kissing when she had closed to about thirty feet. Karnes had been concerned that someone was out here trying to hurt Kimberly, as it turned out, it was just Kirk Oswalter, her on again, off again boyfriend.

 

“Glass, can’t you and Oswalter get a room some place?” Kirk and Kim both turned and looked in the direction the voice had come from. The distaste was clearly visible in Kim’s angry, drawn expression. Kim had two choices as she saw it, to call his bluff and scream for help or to play this hand out and see what cards Kirk was willing to play. Kim did her best to look like a love sick teenage girl. Somehow it felt to Kim that she must have just looked sick.

 

“Sorry Coach…” Kim said wiping her mouth with the back of her arm.

 

Karnes checked her watch, “You’re usually in my office by now to go over your notes with me.” Karnes said apparently misunderstanding the nature of Kim’s cry. And why not, you’re out here in a lip lock with Kirk the Jerk! “The brief will have to wait until tomorrow,” Karnes continued. “I’ll send a note to Baxter letting you out of…” Karnes paused searching for Kim’s first period class.

 

“English…” Kim said flatly.

 

“English, yes. Letting you of English early and you can come by and brief me on your notes from today. ”

 

Karnes turned and looked back at the school building, “Bell’s gonna ring soon. I guess you can go and wait for your brother, he’ll be here soon I suppose.”

 

“We’ll be driving home together today Coach,” Kirk interjected.

 

Karnes didn’t bat an eyelash over the remark. The sports social clique intermingled to the point where the fraternization almost seemed like incest at times. “Whatever. Twenty minutes until the last bell. You two can’t stay out here and… make out however. So go to the gym, study hall, something, but you can’t stay here.” Karnes turned and left. Kim watched her walk away as panic rose in her. She wanted to scream, DON’T LEAVE ME HERE WITH THIS KOOK! But fear of what Kirk might actually do if she did locked her vocal cords securely down.

 

Hope of rescue began to fade as Karnes became a small doll like dot on the horizon of the P.E. field. As she stood there, in shocked silence, trying to muster the courage to cry out, she felt one of Kirk’s hulking arms slip behind her, across her back and around her waist. “Good girl.”

 

She tried to slip away from him but he held her tightly to her side. “Kim, don’t.”

 

“Let go of me,” she insisted angrily.

 

“I won’t do it. You see, this is how it should be Kim. You come to find out I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

 

“I mean it Kirk ¾”

 

“I do too. Remember what I said about living life pain free?”

 

“I’m not afraid of you,” Kim blurted out. That however, was a lie. She found she was almost as afraid of Kirk as she was of Ben’s father.

 

“That’s a mistake Kim. But,” he admitted, “a good bluff. Like I said, I’d never hurt you. Ben on the other hand, I’d be more than happy to hurt him. You seem to like him too much for your own good. Fine, whatever,” Kirk said as be began walking, pulling Kim along with him.

 

“You leave him alone Kirk.” Kim’s warning was sincere. Kim knew that Ben’s suffering had nearly reached the pinnacle of anything they could have imagined before. The only place Ben could possibly go from where he found himself now was down, six feet down.

 

“Come,” Kirk said ignoring her threat, smiling once again. “I’ve got you something.”

 

Kirk escorted her across the field back toward the school’s athletic center, the home of the Tigers, the epicenter of their sports world. Here, Kim was the princess of that universe. Kirk, its crowned prince. He was trying to force a Royal shotgun wedding that Kim wanted no part of. Exposing his abuse should have been an easy thing to do. All she had to do was scream. She was Kim Glass after all. She understood her popularity here. People would listen to her. The students, the staff all liked her, they would help.

 

For some reason she just couldn’t muster the courage to do it. There were too many unspoken, unknown what if’s out there looming above her. They circled above, waiting for that one crucial mistake. If impulse drove her to make one, they would swoop down and pluck her eyes from her head before help could arrive. Do it Kim, this is the one moment when you have to do something, what’s going to happen if you don’t? Don’t you know? Well then I’ll tell you, no prom, not with Ben anyway. You like it here that much?

 

Kim still said nothing. She did not scream. She could only watch as the gymnasium grew larger in her field of vision. Fine then, her inner-self said spitefully, be a mouse, it suits you.

 

As they approached one of the double doors to the gym, the voice of doom in her head fell silent. It was right though, she could feel fate closing in around her, boxing her in as though it were a living, breathing thing stalking her. As she was preparing to let loose with a blood curdling scream of RAPE, Kirk tightened his grip on her, surprising her into silence. He said mocking her, “I hope you like what I’ve done. I’ve been thinking about it since Friday morning. Since our little public tiff, remember that?”

 

Kimberly glared up at him with pure hate burning in her cool blue eyes. She said nothing as Kirk pushed the doors open and they stepped into the relative dark of the gymnasium. Inside, Kim blinked to help her eyes adjust to the change in lighting. When it did, three faces came slowly into focus. James Slater, one of Kirk’s loyal linesmen, his Captain of the Guard so to speak. Lindsay Rogers, a massive boy, some 345 pounds of bulk who had a reputation for snacking on Quarterbacks when he got hungry.

 

Lindsay was particularly feared on the field of play. It was rumored that he had developed a talent for dislocating the fingers of players facing him. This was a rumor, nothing more, though he did have the distinct honor of being present for an unusually large number of hand injuries on the field. “Success comes with a price,” Lindsay was fond of saying, “you just have to make sure you get the other guy to pay the tab.”

 

She knew the players very well. While they both claimed to be her friends and were friendly to her, she had the sense they were a few screws short of a complete Erector set. Between them, looking more like a scale model in miniature of a human being was Ben Ackerman.

 

“Ben?” Kim asked.

 

“Don’t talk to him.” Kirk whispered so Ben couldn’t hear what he said. “You’re never going to speak to him again.”

 

“Don’t tell me what ¾” When Kim spoke out in defiance of his demand, Kirk’s eyes flicked at Rogers and Rogers lifted Ben’s left hand high so Kim could see it. Kim looked in the direction of the activity, recognizing the signal for what it was. She watched as Lindsay then slipped his oversized pinky finger between Ben’s third finger and pinky and gave it a quick twist. The horrifying POP that followed didn’t sound like a bone breaking, but it sounded nearly as painful. James Slater covered Ben’s mouth tightly to keep the scream stifled. Even with this measure, the subdued scream still echoed off the empty gym walls.

 

“BEN ¾” Now it was Kim whose mouth was covered. Kirk’s hand fit like an iron mask over her face. She struggled against him in vain, trying to get to Ben, to help him. She kicked and flailed, hands slapping, elbows digging into Kirk’s rock hard abdominal muscles all to no avail. Lindsay, smiling, still holding Ben’s left hand up, gave Ben’s pinky a little wiggle. To Kim’s horror, the finger seemed to move oddly where it connected to Ben’s palm. There was a distinct bulge that didn’t follow the contours of a normal hand and it looked to Kim as though the finger wasn’t completely attached any longer.

 

Ben issued yet another agonizing scream. His right knee buckled and he began to drop to the floor. James held him up though and Ben dangled askew in James’ arms. Kim squirmed almost painfully beneath Kirk’s hand.

 

“Listen to me carefully Kimberly,” Kirk whispered. Kim continued to struggle and try to scream for help, but there was no one in the gym. Kirk had probably posted more of his guys at the doors as security, there would be no help coming. She had no choice but to listen. “Good girl.”

 

Kim jerked defiantly at the second suggestion that she was supposed to be a good girl for this monster. The act of insolence went unnoticed by Kirk, “You and I were meant to be Kim. So unless you want to see Ben crippled you’ll tell him so.”

 

From somewhere in the distance, Kim thought she could hear a rhythmic pounding, metal on metal with some other thing tempering that sound. She didn’t answer Kirk right away. Instead she focused on that sound. It seemed vitally important she identify it before she told Kirk anything. A memory floated back to her. She saw her father, years ago as he worked in his woodshop out back. She had loved to watch him build things, watching something useful come from formless materials. Watching him, sawing, sanding, driving nails…

 

That was it! The sound was the sound of nails being driven into wood… into a casket. Tim’s casket! OH NO! If I tell Ben I’m not going to the prom with him. If I suggest that I’m going with Kirk, then I’m trapped! I can’t go with both of them! This notion of a Tim’s casket could have been no more real to her had someone been building that casket right there between the five of them.

 

In that flash of a second, Kim felt shame wash over her. Ben was hurt. Still, Kim was concerned about herself, about ‘going home’ as she thought of it. Even with the knowledge that she was living a much better life than Tim had ever known, she still wanted… no needed to get out of Kim’s life. Even Ben’s torture couldn’t curb that selfishness.

 

Kirk was still bent close to her ear, whispering his instructions. “That finger is just dislocated, but Lindsay can break it off just as easily. So, you’re going to tell him you were joking, that you’d never go to the prom with a worm like him. Then you’re going to laugh at him. You’re going to drive him off and never talk to him again.”

 

Kirk removed his hand from her mouth as Kim stood there trembling. She couldn’t speak. So Kirk began the ceremony with a gift. “I told you I had something for you,” Kirk dug deep in his pocket and pulled out a heavy class ring on a gold chain. The chain was fairly short to be worn prominently on the chest. He unclasped the chain and slipped it around Kim’s throat. With a small “clip” sound, Kim found Kirk Oswalter’s ring resting on the skin of her chest. Kirk leaned in again and said, “Don’t take it off. I’ll know and Ben over there will pay. Understand?”

 

The events that were playing out weren’t normal. Neither was the fact that she found herself living life as a girl either, she had to remind herself. Was this part of Fate’s balancing act? There was no way she could think herself out of this one. This wasn’t about her anymore. She looked across at Ben suffering needlessly in Jimmy’s arms. His eyes were closed at the moment but the pain displayed on his features was unbearable to watch. Stop being so selfish you stupid bitch and save him!

 

Kim stared at Ben sadly and nodded almost imperceptibly, acknowledging Kirk’s demands.

 

Kirk grinned, he had her. His heart was wild with excitement and he discovered something new about himself. He was excited by the act of forcing Kim under his thumb. He continued to whisper to her, “You’re going to be a good girl from now on Kim. You’re gong to do exactly as you’re told.” Again Kim nodded wordlessly. Her fingers twiddled the ring that Kirk had just placed on her. Ben had become a trump card somehow, not just for her, but for Kirk and for her family as well. Everyone was trying to play the Ben card to their advantage but no one really cared about what actually happened to Ben! The epiphany was blinding. What’s this really all about? Kim wondered to herself. How is it that Ben, unimportant, beaten down poor little Ben Ackerman keeps ending up at the center of all the problems, my problems, Kirk’s problems, his mother’s problems… What’s really going on here?

 

“I’m waiting.”

 

Kim dropped her hands to her side and looked down. Below her she saw the gentle rise of her breasts beneath a girl’s cheerleading uniform. Beyond that the flare of the pleated, blue and gold skirt draped over her hips, well formed athletic legs, not muscular, but smooth and softly shaped. Below that, she wore white ankle socks with white tennis shoes. Her heart was pounding hard enough to make her uniforms bib flap shake with the force of it. Oh Hell.

 

She turned to Kirk, “I’ll be a good girl. I’ll be good I promise.” Kim said choosing her words carefully, hoping the promise would be beguine and nondescript enough to give her some wiggle room. She wanted to let go of the selfishness for Ben’s sake, but she found she simply couldn’t. She prayed she would not feel the burning sensation she had felt the night she promised to go to the prom with Ben. If she did, she was screwed. She’d never be able to meet promises to both Kirk and Ben. That would be the same as trying to make the Sun and Earth occupy the same space at the same time.

 

Now it was time for her to try to get Kirk to make a promise for Ben. “Ben is going to be under your protection from now on. You don’t have to talk to him; you don’t have to be his friend. I’m sure no one’s going to be happier about that than Ben. But he’s on the list Kirk, officially.”

 

“No can do ¾”

 

Kim stepped up to him and struck as intimidating a stance as her small frame would allow, “I’m not arguing about this Kirk. I’m wearing your ring. I promised I’d be good. For that, Ben doesn’t get hurt, not by anyone, ever! I’ll get Ben to go away, but I’m not going to hurt him and neither are you, not ever again.” Kim’s eyes became threateningly narrow, “You want me so badly?” Kim asked. She poked Kirk in the chest with her index finger, “Then fucking act like it. Give me something that matters to me! You’re going to make sure that the entire school knows that he’s off limits. And if anything ever happens to him Kirk, anything at all, I swear, I’ll make you sorry you ever laid eyes on me.”

 

Kim turned and refused to look at him. Inside she was trembling terribly. Across the room, Jimmy and Lindsay’s eyes were wide open in surprise.

 

Kirk scowled down at her for just a moment.

 

Kim imagined that Kirk was just like a kid who had just had his favorite toy taken from him. It was hard to believe this was the same Kirk Oswalter she had known in a different time, a different place. While the other Kirk had been brash and obstinate, he had never been cruel. Before, he had always regarded Ben and Tim with a sort of indifferent disdain, but had always remained civil toward both.

 

Here, Kirk’s hatred of Ben bordered on psychotic. He was using Mafia blackmail techniques on Ben to achieve his goals with her. Am I serving some purpose by being here as a girl or is it Ben that has become the focus whatever is going on here? Things FELT out of balance. What kind of world was it where this kind of behavior could be used in a school of all places, against kids?

 

“Okay Baby,” Kirk relented. “Ben’s protected. No one will hurt him.”

 

Kim allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. She was able to smile despite the incredible sorrow she felt for Ben at his treatment. “I need to take Ben to see the nurse.”

 

“No! Absolutely not.”

 

“Kirk, come on. Look at his hand.” This was ridiculous. She was not going to give in to leaving Ben’s hand in the condition it was in. Things were already bad enough for Ben. Who in the hell else was going to care for him if she wasn’t allowed to try to get this fixed?

 

Kirk looked to Lindsay and ordered, “Fix it.”

 

Kim’s eyes popped open in terrified surprise, “Kirk, NO!” But her pleas were already too late. There was an audible crunch as the ball of the joint seated back against the cartilage of the joint. Ben writhed horribly. His cries were heart breaking and Kim wept while Kirk kept one hand around her arm to hold her with him. “God damn it!” she cried out. “I said no more!” She turned and tried to meet Ben’s eyes, “Oh God, Ben, I’m sorry!”

 

After a moment Ben hung loosely in James Slater’s arms, weeping. James rummaged around in his pocket for something and soon pulled out two small, blue pills. “Here, take these shit head.” Not waiting for a response, James shoved the tablets into Ben’s mouth and forced him to swallow them.

 

“What were those?” Kim demanded.

“Valium, it won’t help much with the pain, but it will make him forget about it a little faster.”

 

Now they’re giving him drugs… Jesus. Kim was still struggling to get to Ben, “Let go Kirk.” Kirk finally let go and Kim rushed across the gym to her friend.

 

“Oh Ben,” She said softly, mournfully. Ben wouldn’t meet stare. She crouched to see him but he did everything he could to evade her eyes. “I’m sorry. Please Ben, talk to me.”

 

At last he did lift his head, “I told you he was your boyfriend. Do you get it now? I should have listened to you before, you know, in that store.” Ben’s jaw didn’t move as he spoke. His teeth remained clamped firmly together. “I’m sorry. I am, but I can’t do this.” Kim wanted to wail out in anguish.

 

She touched his face tenderly with her soft hand, “Ben,” she whispered, “We have to stay away from each other for a while. I don’t know how long.” The words burned as she spoke them. There was no time frame connected to them and Kim was vaguely aware that no reprisals were heaped on her for it by either by Kirk or the mask that had put her here.

 

Ben painfully barked laughter at the senility of her comment, “No problem,” Ben wheezed. “You won’t have to worry about me again. I won’t bother you anymore.” With a single statement, Ben released her from any commitment she needed to make to satisfy Kirk… her boyfriend.

 

The idea made Kim physically sick to her stomach. She wavered for a moment, then finally knelt slowly to the ground, her arm around her midsection. Without looking up she demanded, “Let him go.” When Ben’s feet didn’t move, she looked up. Both James and Lindsay were looking in Kirk’s direction. “Don’t look at him for your answer. I’m wearing his ring for fuck’s sake, let him go.”

 

Kirk’s minions did as they were told. Great, Kim thought, let the Royal Court receive their Queen. Kim stood slowly and watched Ben staggered toward the door for a moment and then fell to his knees. Somewhere out in the school, the last bell rang. “Go on Ben, get out of here. No one’s going to hurt you again. Not here anyway. Isn’t that right Kirk?”

 

“You’re safe weas… Ben No one will fuck with you again. Stay the fuck away from her from now on. Spread the word, no one touches Kim. She’s mine.” Ben’s head hung loosely at the shoulders. He glared at Kirk from the side. He struggled to his feet and stumbled out of the gym.

 

It could have been her imagination. Uncertainty was the only certain thing left in her life now. But when the gym door slammed after Ben lurched out, she could have sworn that somewhere in the distance the pounding that Kim had heard earlier suddenly stopped.