One boy is about to learn that he has already passed such an event, and nothing will ever be quite the same…

“Then that’s why Brandon’s been so distracted these past couple of days,” concluded Savannah as she sipped her iced tea. “Actually, I can’t wait to see him wearing his uniform,” she remarked with a mischievous grin. She speared another morsel of salad with her fork.

Brenda smiled back at Savannah. They were colleagues, friends, and, unbeknownst to anyone else at West Grove High School, lovers. “Astrid fixed his hair in pigtails when he visited cheer class yesterday and he looked so cute,” reported Brenda. “I’m really grateful that he decided to go along with it. But this could still be harder for him than he thinks. And because he thinks the world of you, please encourage him as much as you can. But let me know if he continues to be distracted in class. I don’t want his grades hurt because he’s willing to help us out.”

“The boy’s a mathematical genius,” Savannah reminded her girlfriend as Brenda took a bite out of her apple. “Brandon’s already solving problems that I didn’t even encounter until my advanced undergraduate courses.”

“Yet his social development has lagged behind.”

“That’s why cheerleading could be good for him. In a way, it may be even more important than his math class for building his character long-term.”

“How you figure that?”

“Brandon’s so very gifted at mathematics,” observed Savannah. “He’ll always have that ability and, like me, he’ll excel at it. So really, I think he has greater need of developing his social skills and self-confidence. Moreover, if he does have any leadership potential at all, it’ll come out while he’s working with you. Cheerleading helped me so much with mine.”

“Y’know, Savannah, I just can’t imagine you ever lacking social skills or self-confidence.”

“See?” exclaimed Savannah. “It worked!”

Jeffrey Padgett finished eating his sandwich, then crumpled up and tossed his brown paper lunch bag into a waste barrel next to the outdoor lunch table where he sat. An autumn chill filled the air and a slight rustling preceded a shower of leaves descending on the lonely boy. He couldn’t even remember when he hadn’t eaten lunch at school with Brandon and Mark. But today, he’d eaten his lunch alone.

Getting up from the bench, Jeff popped the ring tab of a can of cola. He wondered if it were too late to join Mark and Brandon inside. But could he risk being seen with them anymore, especially Brandon? Or was he being too worried about his own reputation? After all, Jeff knew for a fact that he was straight. Indeed, he had a crush on Brandon’s sister and had for quite a while, going back a few years. Sheila was hard for Jeff to ignore, since she also lived right next door to him.

That complicated things for Jeff. Any disloyalty to Brandon would likely doom his chances with Sheila. So, he redoubled his pace toward the school cafeteria. Maybe he could meet his friends while they were still at lunch.

Billy Danziger—or Billie, anyway—approached the table where Kelly and her friends were sitting. She’d invited him to join her for lunch and, by extension, everyone else in the group. “Please, let’s make room for Billie! I want her—or him—to feel welcome with us,” she told her friends. “By the way, Billie, like, which do you prefer? Him or her?”

“I’m not sure either makes sense,” the petticoated boy replied. “I feel like a freak wearing this, so maybe you should just call me ‘it.’”

“No!” chorused Kelly and the others at the table. She continued, “You’re still my friend and I hope I speak for everyone here when I say you’re ours as well.” Everyone there nodded in agreement. Jenny and Alice had moved their chairs to open a space for Billy while Brandon took an empty chair from a nearby table and placed it there. “Take a seat, Miss Danziger,” Kelly told her. Since you look reasonably feminine, I’m calling you ‘her.’ Besides, I kinda think boys look cute in dresses!”

Brandon waited for Billie to step up to the table before pushing the chair under him. Kelly smiled as she noticed how Billie smoothed the skirt of his dress as he sat down. When Alice, Jenny, and Brandon were satisfied that he was comfortable, they resumed their own seats.

“Thanks, everyone!” offered Billy. “Nobody else seems to want me around for lunch today.” He withdrew a protein bar, an apple, and a can of diet cola from his handbag.

“Is that all you’re eating, Billie?” Kelly asked, obviously disapproving.

“Gotta watch my figure,” he joked sarcastically. “I barely can fit into this now.”

“I think it looks fine on you,” opined Kelly. “You just need some help building confidence.”

“Not so easy for a boy in a dress,” he complained. “It’s so humiliating.”

“Y’know, Billie, it doesn’t hafta be,” advised Kelly. “I can help you out with it.”

“So can I,” added Melinda. “I think it’s okay for boys to express their feminine side.”

“I think guys in dresses just turn you on,” Kelly teased her.

“Look who’s talkin’!” Alice retorted. “But they’re right, Billie,” she said now turning her attention to him. “And I’ll support you as much as my friends will.”

“And as luck would have it,” said Jenny, “you won’t be doing it alone.”

“What?” Billy wondered.

“Oh, that’s right!” Kelly recalled. “You didn’t get to homeroom until after Brandon and I talked about it with Mister Markham. Brandon is subbing for Double Abby on the Jay-Vee cheer team—as a girl!”

Brandon pushed his lunch tray away and hid his head under his hands. The others at the table heard his muffled voice lament, “It’s not fair! Why me?” Giggling broke out from the girls around the table, with Mark and Billy simply laughing.

“No good deed goes unpunished!” Jenny observed as she leaned over Brandon and hugged him. Then she glanced around the table and proclaimed, “And don’t forget that my Brandon goes out of his way when he’s needed.”

Still, Brandon was feeling anxious. He looked up and whispered to his girlfriend, “I need to go to Nurse Mansour’s office—now!”

“Shouldn’t you finish your lunch first?” Jenny whispered back. “You don’t wanna take a pill on an empty tummy, do you?”

“No,” answered Brandon, pulling his lunch tray back to the edge of the table. He took a bite of the pizza topped with mushrooms, black olives, and green peppers, which he shared with Jenny.

“This is good,” she declared to her boyfriend.

“Like I’ve said before,” insisted Brandon, “Italian seems to be the only kind of food they can cook here without messing it up.”

“Yeah!” Mark agreed “How can anybody cook pizza wrong?”

“Oh, there’s always someone!” Melinda declared. “Just be glad that they don’t work in the school kitchen.”

“So, Brandon,” Kelly addressed him, “have you thought about what you’re wearing for Fashion Day this Thursday?”

“Uh—no! Should I?” Brandon replied sheepishly.

Jeff surveyed the cafeteria to where Brandon and Mark were seated. He saw them sitting with a number of their other friends. Maybe he could join them for the rest of lunchtime, so he started toward their table. Then he stopped when he saw the crossdressed Billy Danziger approach his friends.

Three of the group quickly made room for Billy and helped him find a seat. And that upset Jeff, since Billy wasn’t even one of the gang. The last thing that Jeff needed was to be seen sitting at the same table as a crossdresser. That Brandon had considered joining the cheer team seemed bad enough to Jeff. Yet he hoped that if he could but talk to Brandon, he might convince him not to do it.

“You still hangin’ out with Mac an’ Mark?” Jeff heard as he felt a strong slap on his back. He glanced over to see Barry Kingman next to him. “You really oughta ditch those guys!”

“But we’ve been friends since, like, forever!” objected Jeff. “We all live next door to each other.”

“It’s up to you, but if you stay friends with a couple o’ queers, you know what everybody else is gonna think,” Barry reminded Jeff. “And you know what’s gonna happen to ’em, too!”

“Whaddya mean?” Jeff asked in protest. “What’s gonna happen to ’em?”

”Are you really that stupid? I just don’t think ya wanna be hangin’ around ’em anymore,” warned Barry, “especially not when Mac comes to school in a cheer uniform. That’s about as queer an’ girly as ya can get!”

“Leave me alone, Kingman! What’s it to ya, anyway?”

“I don’t like queers, that’s all. Don’t want ’em in my school. Don’t want ’em in my town.”

“But Brandon and Mark aren’t gay. They got girlfriends.”

“Don’t mean nothin’. Just a couple o’ queers fakin’ it!”

“Why’s it such a big deal to you?” Jeff retorted at Barry, turning on his heels and storming away. “Kingman, you don’t make any sense!”

“No, Kelly!” Brandon asserted his own interests. “I’m not going out to shop for dresses with you and the cheer team Wednesday evening. I have a prior engagement.”

“But you need to dress up for Fashion Day,” reiterated Kelly.

“Kelly!” Jennifer Chang now asserted herself. “Brandon is having dinner with my family Wednesday evening. We arranged this over the weekend before he was asked to join the cheerleaders.”

Sheila glanced at her brother, grinning imperceptibly to all but him. He immediately picked up on her meaning, recalling her warning about cheerleading taking over his social life. She was proud that her brother had stood his ground to keep his date with Jenny for the all-important family dinner. She was also grateful that his girlfriend had stood by him, too. Besides, Sheila could find a dress for Brandon to wear Fashion Day. “Don’t worry about my brother, Kelly,” she said. “Jenny and I will see that he wears something really nice on Thursday.”

“Actually, Sis,” replied Brandon, “I already have something ‘nice and fashionable’ in mind.”

“Oh?” Kelly exclaimed. “Just what do you have in mind?”

“Telling now would ruin the surprise,” teased Melinda. “Wouldn’t it, Brandon?”

“Yes, it would,” he quickly agreed, although just to avoid committing himself to anything specific. He didn't really have anything in mind yet. “Kelly will hafta wait to see like everyone else!” She pouted in response then giggled.

“Billie, you should also wear the prettiest dress you have for Thursday,” Kelly encouraged him. “Since you gotta girl-up anyway, you may as well go all out, make a fashion statement. If you don’t have anything, you can come shopping with us Wednesday. You can take Brandi’s place.” Kelly stuck her tongue out at Brandon who reciprocated the gesture. Giggles broke out around the table, even from Mark who couldn’t actually make himself giggle, and from Alice, who was usually too reserved.

Sheila let the door of the girls’ restroom swing closed behind her. Her best friend Kelly was brushing her hair at the mirror along the wall. As she approached, Sheila could see that Kelly was in tears. “I’m so sorry, Kelly,” she consoled her friend, hugging her. Kelly turned her face to lean into her friend's shoulder. Sheila could feel each sob pumping into her chest. “I know it’s hard,” she continued. “I don’t think my brother’s ever caught on to how you feel. Apparently, he’s not able to.”

“But he’s with Jenny, now,” whimpered Kelly. “He caught on to her!”

“No, not really,” emphasized Sheila. “As I heard it, Jenny made the first move. Otherwise, I don’t think Brandon would’ve. I don’t think he could.”

“And why’s that?” Kelly demanded, her voice straining with despair and some anger.

“I’m not supposed to tell anyone this, but it’s only fair to tell you,” said Sheila. “While he was in Saint Luke’s, Brandon was diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t understand it all myself, but it’s some kinda neurological condition. I think it means his social and interpersonal skills develop slower than his intellectual ability—I think it’s why his physical skills were kinda slow, too,” added Sheila. “That’s why Mom and Dad wanted him to take ballet—”

“But he took gymnastics, instead,” Kelly supplied.

“They knew something was wrong then, so that’s why they made him take that and martial arts classes later,” explained Sheila. “And he got good enough for you to suggest to Coach Brenda.”

“’Coz I thought he could do it, and the team needed someone who could.”

“I wanted him to do it, too, but mostly ’coz I didn’t wanna,” admitted Sheila. “Not after what I went through last year!”

“What did you go through?”

“Cheerleading was too much stress for me, mostly ’coz I didn’ get along with those two divas.”

“You must mean Penney an’ Tilley?”

“Yes, I mean them!”

“Now they’re the reigning sophomore class bitches!”

“I warned Brandi to watch out for them,” Sheila revealed. “I want him—or her—to have a better experience on the cheer team than I did.”

“So do I,” affirmed Kelly. “Cheerleading should be, like, the most fun anyone can have in high school.” Then Kelly paused. “I’m so sorry it didn’t work out for you. I’d always thought we’d eventually be on the cheer team together.”

Sheila smiled back at her friend. “But don’t let it bother you, Kelly,” she advised her friend. “I’m still contributing to team spirit, after all. Besides, I think I look better in the pompom squad/dance team uniform anyway.”

“That you do,” Kelly agreed, “especially the way the fringe and shiny tights show off your hips and legs! Wish ours were more like yours.”

“But then you’d be getting too far away from the traditional look of a cheerleader,” observed Sheila. “Gotta be careful how much you push the envelope in one year. Otherwise, they’ll shut down your creativity altogether.”

“Bringing Brandi on board is like pushing it enough already, huh?”

“Absolutely!”

Barry Kingman loitered around the side and back of the new Technology annex. He’d spied on Billy Danziger going for his stash a couple of weeks ago. Feeling like he could use a joint, Kingman very carefully scoped out the grounds behind the annex. He didn’t wish to be seen, not so much to avoid being caught smoking marijuana, but more not to have to share his purloined pot with anyone else. Danziger was no longer in any position to risk using it, yet letting it all go to waste would be such a shame!

Sitting down with his back against the building, he felt along the base of the wall for any loose cobblestones. Kingman had not been close enough to see exactly where the stash was, but he had seen Danziger pull a cobblestone from the base of the wall. He continued to feel and to press and to wiggle his fingers firmly on each stone. “Aha!” Barry thought to himself as he felt one move under the pressure of his fingers. He examined its edges quite closely, then noticed a wire bent in a loop between it and another stone, concealed mostly by the wire matching their whitish-gray colors.

A tug on the wire began to pull the cobblestone up from the ground, revealing a hole which had been dug out. Kingman grinned to himself as he figured that Danziger must have set this up while the building was still being constructed. He glanced around to assure himself that still no onlookers had come by. He reached into the now open cache for a vinyl pouch and opened it.

In the pouch, Kingman found a vial of marijuana, a disposable cigarette lighter, and oddly enough, a penny. Why was the penny there? he wondered. He also noticed that the pouch contained no cigarette papers. Maybe Billy kept them with him? Not really a problem, though—Barry did, too! So, he pulled his wallet from his hip pocket and took a booklet of cigarette papers from it.

Whenever Barry would roll a joint outdoors, he’d open up his trifolio and form a tent by putting the edges of the left and right sections together over the central section and use that surface to make his cigarette. The “tent” protected the operation from sideways gusts of winds and gusts from the front would be blown toward him, catching the marijuana in his clothing or the lower lip of the trifolio. Besides, he was quite adept at making his own roaches.

Finished rolling his marijuana cigarette, Barry closed his trifolio, stowed his booklet of cigarette papers in his shirt pocket, took the disposable lighter in hand, and raised the joint to his lips. But when he tasted the marijuana in it, he stopped. The flavor was different, a variety that he’d never tasted before. Danziger must get his grass from another dealer. Kingman had no idea what else could be in it. He opened his mouth and let the cigarette fall from his lips.

Could the different taste be hormones? Maybe that’s why Billy was going along with his punishment, dressing like a girl at school. Had the hormones turned Danziger queer? Or maybe even into a girl? Barry spat a couple of times then wiped off the his tongue and the inside of his lips to be sure that no possible hormones were left in his mouth.

Sophia Mansour heard a knock at her office door, so she got up to open it. Brandon and Jenny stood there. The girl was smiling, but the boy was trembling and looked to be in a cold sweat.

“I need another alprazolam,” petitioned Brandon. “I’m feeling anxious again.”

“You certainly look like it,” acknowledged the nurse. “Are you sure you need another one today?” She knew that he did as soon as she had opened the door. Although she wanted to ask him a few questions, that would have been counterproductive. Brandon’s physical symptoms of anxiety were clearly visible.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he affirmed.

“You can come in, then.” She walked over to a medicine cabinet, stretched out a long lanyard with the key on it, and unlocked the glass door of the cabinet. Fingering through a small box of blister-packs like a card file, the nurse quickly located Brandon’s alprazolam and pushed one pill out the back of the card and dropped it in a tiny paper cup.

“Get yourself a cup of water,” she ordered, and the boy complied. Then she gave the boy his pill. Brandon took the pill and washed it down.

“Miss Chang, would you excuse us just a moment?” Nurse Mansour asked. Jenny stepped back into the hallway and the nurse closed the door.

“Brandon, I’m a little concerned about you,” she said. “Is there anything wrong that I should know about?”

“I’m just nervous about what I’ll be doing with the cheerleaders. Why do you ask?”

“Well, for starters you looked really bad when you showed up at the door just now. Then you asked for a second dose of alprazolam.”

“But my prescription says ‘take as needed’ and I think I needed it.”

“I have no doubt that you needed it,” concurred the nurse. “That was obvious. Still I’m bothered that you’ve needed it twice today. Tell me, did you try any of the methods for calming yourself down that Doctor Windham went over with you?”

“Uh, no?”

“The notes that she sent me for your prescription suggest that you should try the self-calming techniques before requesting a second dose,” the nurse reminded him. “That’s as much part of your treatment as the pills. Please don’t forget that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Now don’t beat yourself up over it,” she warned with a smile. “Just remember it the next time. It’s something you can always do for yourself.”

“I’ll try,” promised Brandon, somewhat sheepishly.

The school nurse stepped back to the door and opened it to the hallway, where Jenny had remained patiently waiting for her boyfriend. “You two get to class, now!” Nurse Mansour ordered. Hand in hand, the young couple scampered off.

The nurse closed the door and picked up the handset of her telephone, then recalled Dr. Windham’s number on the autodial. She had asked to be kept informed of Brandon’s requests for alprazolam, especially for any second daily doses. Today was only the second day at school that he was taking it and he had a two-week prescription. So that the boy had asked for it twice both days was not too surprising, but his psychiatrist had her reasons for wanting to keep tabs on him, so Sophia would follow the protocol that had been specified. After all, it had been established for Brandon’s benefit.

Jeff glanced around furtively, making certain that no one was there to see him at the door of the Vice-Principal’s Office, especially not Barry Kingman. Jeff wasn’t even sure what Barry had in mind, but he had heard it as thinly veiled threats against his friends. But he couldn’t prove anything. It was just Barry’s word against his own. Of course, Barry had used the word queer as a deliberately anti-gay insult, which by itself could land him in detention. But was it worth the risk? Getting labeled as a “snitch” wouldn't help his case nor his friends’. Maybe he needed to wait until he could take something to the Vice-Principal that would stick? Jeff just didn’t know, so perhaps he should keep his distance from his longtime buddies until it all blew over. But that might be a long time.

The bell for the end of lunch rang, so Jeff decided to get to class. He could return and try again later. Meanwhile, he needed better evidence of what Kingman was planning.

Then on the way to class, Jeff thought about what Barry was saying. Barry was warning him that he intended to attack Brandon and Mark. And it probably wouldn’t be done by just Barry. He was likely getting his gang together, marshaling the troops as it were. He’d done him the courtesy, if it could be called that, of a warning. Or was it a threat? Kingman had all but told him to stay away from his buddies. But Barry had no authority over anyone unless Jeff agreed to give in to his threats.

Still, Jeff was angry not just at Barry, but with Brandon as well. This whole circumstance of him substituting for a cheerleader seemed ill-advised to Jeff, if not crazy. And he and Mark were trapped in the middle. If Brandon were to really go through with this, they’d likely be caught up in any fallout. They weren’t known as the “Three Musketeers” for nothing. Why would Brandon risk endangering them all this way? Jeff found it making no more sense than Barry’s anti-gay rantings.

But most of all, Jeff felt his greatest fear to be for any possible future with Sheila. Why did this have to involve her brother? Some of it was his own fault, though. He had hidden his feelings about her—hidden from her, from her brother, from Mark, from everyone, and, until recently, mostly from himself.

Holding hands, Brandon and Jenny entered their French class together while Rhonda Davies had already taken her seat at the lab desk. “Is it true?” Rhonda inquired excitedly of her lab partner.

“Is what true?” Brandon replied.

“That you’re subbing for Double Abby on the cheer team?” Rhonda clarified. “That’s what I heard, anyway.”

“It’s true!” announced Jenny. Brandon simply nodded in agreement.

“So, I guess you, like, got carried away with Gender-Bender Day?” Rhonda asked him.

“No,” he hedged. “That’s not quite how it happened.”

“How did it, then?” Rhonda pressed the issue.

“How do I explain this quickly?” Brandon asked aloud, turning to his girlfriend.

“He and Kelly Harrigan had been in gymnastics together,” related Jenny. “So then she recommended him to Miss San-Giacomo after Abby was injured.”

“What she said,” concurred Brandon appreciating just how succinctly his girlfriend had explained it. “Then Miss San-Giacomo asked me yesterday morning if I’d do it.”

“And he agreed to it today,” concluded Jenny as the bell rang for the class period to begin. “But I’d better get my seat.” Seeing that Ms. Wiszniewski hadn’t yet entered the room, Jenny quickly stole a kiss from Brandon. She went to her lab desk and he sat at his.

“So then, you’ll really be wearing the same uniform as the girls?”

“Yeah! That’s how it is.”

“I didn’t want to say anything about Gender-Bender Day before, ’coz you seemed, like, kinda sensitive about it—”

“And I very much appreciate that. ’Coz even compliments can feel like teasing after a while.”

“That’s really too bad, because those compliments weren’t, like, just well-meant,” said Rhonda. “They were well-earned, too! I’m looking forward to seeing you in your uniform Friday. I think you’ll be cute!”

Brandon sighed and put on his earphones. “I guess that I must accept the girls at this school wanna see me en femme and will go out of their way to get me into a dress.”

“Maybe that’s because we really, like, see you as one of us, anyway.”

“You do?”

“Uh-huh,” affirmed Rhonda. “Don’t get me wrong, but we wondered if you might be hiding a girl inside of you. You kinda confirmed that for us on Gender-Bender Day.”

“Is anyone ever gonna forget that?”

“I don’t think so, Brandon. We all like Brandi too much to forget her and we hope she comes back.”

“You need to grow your hair out a little more,” suggested Astrid. “Then it would be easier to braid. You just look so right in pigtails. Besides, it’s really a simple and practical hairstyle. It’s easy to learn and will help portray a very convincing image as a girl.”

Brandon watched “Brandi” in the mirror as Kelly and a few of the other Jay-Vee cheerleaders looked on. He definitely looked more like “Brandi” than “Brandon” after Astrid had applied the team’s regimen of makeup to his face. To him, that was ideal. He didn’t mind dressing up as a girl so long as he really looked like one.

Indeed, that seemed an interesting challenge to him. At least while he was on alprazolam. The drug had calmed him down so that he didn’t feel nervous wearing the practice uniform with sports bra and matching panty, tee-shirt in school colors with logo, and matching satiny nylon shorts. The shorts were so short that his legs appeared longer than they were, like those of the girls. Rather than feeling afraid of his girlish appearance, he noticed that his look fit with the other cheerleaders. He actually liked how he looked. Yet the night before, he was so frightened wearing Sheila’s uniform to dinner, even with his family and Dr. Windham offering him unanimous support. Could a pill really make so much difference?

“Does everyone agree with Astrid?” Kelly inquired. “Does Brandi look good in pigtails?” Cheers and applause sounded throughout the dressing room.

“Now, Brandi, do you think you can recreate this look, yourself, when you have to?” Astrid asked Brandon. “It’s important to know.”

“Not yet,” he replied. “There’s a lot going on with the makeup. I’m not used to doing it.”

“Can Sheila help you with it?”

“I think she can,” said Brandon. “She really wants me to do this. After all, she did her best to convince me.”

“How ’bout your hair?”

“That’s easier for me, I think. Braids are mathematical, topological to be exact. They’ll be fun.”

“I should’ve known, Astrid,” interjected Kelly. “Brandi just had to find some kinda math in all this. That’s her thing.”

“Kelly, math is just how I look at the world,” Brandon defended himself. “How d’you look at it?”

“Mostly as relationships,” she replied, with the other girls nodding in support. Then Kelly added, “After that, it’s all about having as much fun as possible.”

“Maybe we can get you to start seeing the world our way?” Astrid continued, although Brandon wasn’t sure whether she were asking or stating. “I’d say that most girls see the world as relationships.”

“Not as ideas?” he inquired, his voice betraying some slight disappointment.

“Not at all,” answered Astrid. “Why should we? Ideas aren’t real, anyway.”

“Oh?” Brandon objected. “To me ideas are very much real.”