By Wednesday, I felt I could trust my new friends enough to tell Pattie and Jane why I was at Braintree. Pattie deserved to know because she was my roommate and it felt wrong to let her think I was just like her. I thought I should tell Jane so she wouldn't think she was the only one at Braintree who didn't want to be a girl for the rest of her life. I began with Pattie as we spent more time together. She was laying on her bed reading one of her romance novels.

“Pattie, can we talk for a bit, I have something I want you to know.”

“Sure, Mel, what is it?”

“Well, I haven't been entirely honest with you about why I'm here. Jane isn't the only one that doesn't want to end up a woman. I don't want to either.”

Pattie sat up, looking at me. “You mean your mom is forcing you to be a girl – like Jane's?”

“No, she's really nice and would never do that. It's all my idea. No, that's not right, it was my friend Judy's idea.”

“Did she dare you or something?”

“No.”

“I don't understand Mel.”

“Well, I haven't said it very well. You see, Judy and I live in a crappy school district – one of the worst in the state …” I told him the whole story up to the time I got picked up by Ms. Kelvin.

“Well, Mel, I mean George , your one of the bravest gir … ah, boys I know. I thought it took a lot of guts for me to come out, but I had no choice. I couldn't live as a boy. You had a choice. I really admire you, sweetie.” She gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

I was embarrassed. I didn't think I deserved a hug for fooling people. “Thanks, that's more than I expected. I thought you'd be mad at me pretending to be trans.”

“No … but you better watch out, I like boys,” she grinned mischievously.

“I dated a boy last semester, but it wasn't fair to him so I broke it off.”

“Did he know you were a boy?”

“Yes.”

“Then it was his choice.”

“Yeah, but I wasn't right for him. Now he has a really nice boyfriend and they're both happy.”

“You're really nice … should I call you Mel or George?”

“You'd better stick with Mel. There's less chance of a slip up.”

“Right.”

…

No one answered my knock at the door to Jane's room. I finally found her at lunch. She and Cyndie had been been swimming.

“Jane, I'd like to talk to you after lunch. How about a walk?”

“Sure, Cyndie and I found a shady spot near the creek, It's really lovely. I'll show you where it is.” She was right, the spot was beautiful – private, shady and offering a great view of the creek that flowed along one edge of the grounds.

“Jane, I wanted to talk to you about not wanting to be a girl.”

“Cyndie already gave me that talk. I know how nice the clothes are, how many more ways girls have of expressing themselves, the power girls have over boys, and all that. I just don't feel like a girl – even if I look like one and am starting to talk and act like one.”

“That wasn't the talk I wanted to have. I wanted to tell you that you weren't alone. You're not the only girl at Braintree that wants to go back to being a boy,”

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Who else doesn't want to be a girl.”

“Me.”

“What? Your so pretty, Mel, and everything you do screams 'girl'. You even sew your own dresses!”

I blushed. “Well, I do like dresses.”

“Yes, and I saw how you looked at the fitting after you got your bigger chest. You were beaming!”

“Maybe I was.” I was getting defensive and embarrassed.

“You were, darling.”

“Maybe, but I don't want to stay a girl.” I tried to explain how I got into this and planned to go back to being a boy after graduation.

Jane listened patiently. “Mel, I know you want me to feel better and think you're a kindred spirit – but you aren't, darling girl. You enjoy wearing dresses and pretty clothes. You like them so much you design and make them. I wish I never had to wear a skirt again! So, I love you for trying to help, but I think you're fooling yourself.”

I couldn't think of anything that might change her mind and I was embarrassed that she still thought I was a girl after I told her I wanted to be a boy again. So, I said good bye and walked back to my room for a nap.

At dinner Thursday Ms. Kelvin asked if Pattie and I would be in our room after dinner, as she wanted to talk to us. We said we'd expect her.

“Hello girls, I wanted to see both of you, but on different matters. I wanted to ask you, Pattie, if you'd consider jointing the basketball team. You're very tall, and that makes you a good prospect. It might also be good for you, because if you were on the team, no one would think twice about your height. Everyone expects basketball players to be tall.”

“Well, I've never been at all sporty, Ms. Kelvin. It didn't seem very feminine, if you know what I mean.”

“I do, but there are a lot of feminine athletes.”

“Maybe, but I don't even know how to drabble, let alone throw the ball into a basketball ring. The only sport I ever played was soccer because my dad made me, but I didn't like it much. … By the way, why are you asking me now, when I've seen you every day working on grace and poise?”

“Well, I'm hoping Mel will think it is a good idea and give you a little push. … As for not knowing how to dribble or shoot baskets, most of the girls I start with don't either. It's something you could learn with the other girls. I am not asking you to decide now. Just think about it, and maybe discuss it with Mel. OK?”

“OK, Ms. Kelvin. I like you, so I'll think about it, but no promises.”

“Thank you. That's all I'm asking.

“Mel, dear, you promised to show me some of the dresses you made.”

“OK.” I had pictures on my cell phone that I showed mothers when I was trying for an order. I showed them to her.

“Mel, these are really cute! Still, I need something more adult. Do you have any here I could see?”

I showed her three I'd made for myself.

“Mel, I didn't know you made those,” Pattie said. “I wish I could sew like that.”

“I could show you.”

“It wouldn't do any good. I'm all thumbs. My auntie Maylene tried to show me. I wound up sewing the wrong side to the right side and all my seams were so crooked I screamed!”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's OK. I plan on marrying a rich hedge fund operator who 'll spoil me rotten with Jimmy Choo and Prada shoes, Reem Acra and Melissa Antonelli gowns, and diamonds galore!” She got dreamy eyed.

Ms. Kelvin waited for the fairy dust to settle, then said, “You do really gook work, Mel. I know you'll be busy once the semester starts, but would there be time to make me a dress? I'd pay you of course.”

“It depends on how complicated it is. Also, I don't have a sewing machine. I borrowed one from my friend's mother.”

“Well, how about I buy you a nice one in exchange for the dress?”

“That would be wonderful, but it depends on the dress. Do you have a style in mind?”

“Yes, there's one I love on the Nordstom website, but I can't afford it.”

The one she liked was a Missoni rib knit sheath with horizontal strips. The dress was simple enough. The problem would be finding a knit with stripes she liked. No small-town fabric store would carry such an exotic fabric. After an hour we found a fabric on line that could be delivered Saturday. It was not the same pattern as the Missoni, but she was thrilled with it anyway.

Friday morning was feeling a bit nauseous, and did not eat much breakfast. Actually, it was the second morning that I felt a little off, but I didn't think much about it.

When I was done, Mrs. Robertson told me to report to the bursar's office. There I was surprised to receive $40.00 – my weekly stipend. My account would be credited with a similar amount every Friday. I could withdraw funds any school day between 7:00 and 4:00. I was in shock. If I saved my money, I might have well over $1000.00 by June!

Back at my room, Ms. Kelvin was waiting for me. She drove Pattie and me into town to buy a sewing machine. We went to JoAnn. I liked the Singer 3223R which was a scrumptious raspberry color, and only cost $99.99. Ms. Kelvin insisted she buy a better machine. We settled on the computerized Brother CS6000i. It was marked down from $349.99 to $199.99. Unlike Mrs. Myers' old Singer with its one straight stitch and single foot, it had 60 stitches and seven feet! I had no idea what I'd do with them all, but bought remnants to practice on.

While she was paying for the machine, the sales lady asked Ms. Kelvin what she was going to sew with it. She responded it was for me, and I'd be sewing her a knit dress based on a Missoni design.

The lady was very surprised. “Have you sewn knits before dear?”

“No.”

“Their stretch can make them a challenge. Here let me show you.” She spent half an hour showing me how to set up my machine and demonstrating technique on knit scraps. Then she had me try and corrected me until I had it down. I was very grateful. I'm sure I would have made a mess of the dress without her help.

Meanwhile Pattie been roaming the store fascinated by the fabric patterns and colors. She fell in love with an inexpensive cotton print with lavender roses on a black background. It was a good choice for her because the dark colors make you look smaller. She asked if I could make a skirt and top for her. I suggested an empire waist dress that would flare out when she twirled. She liked that even better, and offered to pay me. It would only take a couple of hours, so I said if she'd wait until I finished Ms. Kelvin's dress, it would be my gift. She kissed me.

Ms. Kelvin took us to a diner for lunch, and we all drove back happy.

That afternoon I played with my new sewing machine while Pattie retreated to the en suite to play with something else. She emerged quite flushed. I played with myself fairly often, so I was in no position to judge. I'd never been that close to another person's sexuality and didn't know how I felt about it. It was something I'd have to get used to. I thought of what Ms. Synder had said about what might happen amongst 1200 girls deprived of male companionship and decided my feelings about Pattie hadn't changed.

When I'd played with my machine enough, I wanted to sew something real. “Pattie, I have time to start your dress now. Let me measure you.” I could hardly believe that her breasts were 42” and was worried that her bodice would take more fabric than we had. Then I remembered that we'd bought extra so I could make a really full skirt that would flare out when she twirled. By dinner, I had it all cut.

I haven't said much about our meals, but we six ate alone except for Mrs. Robinson serving us our potions and then leaving. Our common experiences lead to dinnertime discussions and comparisons. Slowly, we all became friends. Even Casey and Paula thawed out. Pattie and I decided that they had romantic feelings for each other. That night they decided there was no point in trying to pretend they didn't so they told us they'd been girlfriends for about a year.

They'd met at the private school their parents sent them to and were drawn to each other as kindred spirits. Eventually, they had regular sleepovers. Usually, their parents left them alone as they had more important things to do, but one night Casey's mother came to her room to tell her about a change in plans for the next day and found them made up, dressed in baby dolls and kissing. A lot of screaming ensued – most of it about what people at the club would think. Their parents got together, decided that they were hopeless and there was no point in trying to change them. The best solution was to ship them off to Braintree, where they'd embarrass their families as little as possible.

They'd only been full-time girls since the beginning of summer. I asked how they convinced their interviewer, who turned out to be Ms. Cora Jackson, that they were transgender.

“Oh, she didn't need convincing. When we told her we liked girl's clothes, she was happy to have us – two more paying customers, I suppose,” said Paula.

“Yeah, I got the impression that she'd accept anyone willing to wear a dress,” added Casey.

Pattie interjected, “She accepted me and I didn't look at all like a girl.”

“And me, and I told her I only wore dresses because my mom made me,” added Jane.

We sat quietly, eating our fresh fruit dessert cups, trying to make sense of it, but couldn't.

It was a pleasant evening so after dinner we all went for a walk along the creek. We walked along in pairs with Pattie and I in front. Casey and Paula took up the rear, where they stopped for an occasional kiss when the rest of us rounded a bend.

When we got back to our room I sewed the bodice of Pattie's dress, then I searched the net to learn how to make an embellishment I wanted to surprise her with. I glance over to make sure she wasn't looking over my shoulder. She was on her bed in her floral nitie reading a paperback whose cover featured a muscular guy above a woman overflowing her bodice – too occupied to see what I was researching. Making the embellishments turned out to be simple, so I took the lavender silk ribbon I'd bought and started to work. By the time I'd finished I was ready for bed.

I'd slept in my underwear at home, but when I opened my suitcase the first night, I discovered two gorgeous, lace trimmed nities. They were so silky! One was pale violet and the other was rose. I loved them both – they made me feel so … sexy.

I came out of the en suite with tissues lining my panties. Once the lights were out, I ran my hands over my satin nitie from my new breasts to my panties. I decided I'd wear satin to bed from now on – even when I went back to being a boy.

I dreamed of feeding the fawns again, but this time I was dancing between them in an airy cream dress. John was watching me, smiling. Then John morphed into Pattie dressed in short shorts and a tight basketball jersey. I thought how strong her arms looked.

Saturday morning we had breakfast at 8:00. Again I was feeling off, but wolfed down my food anyway as I wanted to finish Pattie's dress before Ms. Kelvin's fabric arrived. When I got back to the room, I was close to vomiting, but felt better after a bit. By the time Pattie returned, I was ready to mark the hem. I had her wear her navy pumps and I sat on the floor to mark the hem. It came to just above her knees – short enough to be cute, but long enough to flare widely when she twirled.

“Go away and come back in an hour. I want to surprise you,” I ordered.

An hour later I had hemmed the dress and added my surprise embellishments.

“Here, try it on!”

“Oh, Mel, it's gorgeous! I just love the little lavender roses along the neckline! How ever did you make them?” She said, admiring herself in the mirror before turning to give me a hug and kiss on the lips.

“Trade secret. … but, I'll show you if you want to know.”

“No, I'm hopeless. … but I do love them – they're so precious!”

“Do a twirl.”

She did, but the dress didn't flare out as I'd hoped. I frowned. I didn't say anything, but looked in my purse.

“Do you have any pennies?”

“Pennies?”

“Yes.”

“Let me see – thirteen cents.”

“I have seven. Twenty cents should do it. Take off your dress.”

Pattie looked puzzled but complied.

“Come back in half an hour.”

When she returned the dress flared beautifully, the hem weighted by our pennies.

Pattie was swinging her hips back and forth, making her dress swirl, when she saw Ms. Kelvin walking across the quad. Shortly, she knocked at our door.

“Is that the dress you made for Pattie? It's lovely.”

“Yes, it is. Thanks. ... Pattie, show Ms. Kelvin the special feature.”

Pattie turned so fast her panties showed.

“I've never seen a dress do that!”

“That's because you've never seen an Antonelli twenty cent dress before!”

“A twenty cent dress?”

I explained.

“Your a genius, dear! And now you're going to be my genius seamstress,” she said opening the bag she carried. As I expected, it was the fabric for her dress.

We talked a while longer. No, Pattie had not decided whether to try basketball. Finally, I measured Ms. Kelvin and she left. Pattie left at the same time to show the other girls her dress.

It was the first time I'd been alone for a while. Once the rush from gratitude and enthusiasm wore off, I started feeling lonely. I missed my mom. I wanted to call her, but she was working and I shouldn't disturb her. By the time Pattie returned I was a mess – crying quietly on my bed.

“What's wrong, sweetie?”

“I feel lonely and miss my mom,” I sniffled.

Pattie sat on my bed and gave me a hug. I sat up next to her. She put her arms around me and held me to her breasts. The little roses on her bodice tickled my nose. She rocked me a little and gently kissed my cheek. I relaxed into her, glad to be held. She looked down at me and kissed me on the lips. I felt better. We leaned back and lay holding each other, exchanging kisses until I fell asleep.

When I woke, Pattie was still holding me, but had fallen asleep herself. I thought I should feel embarrassed kissing a boy like that – but Pattie was no boy. She was a very sweet girl. I was glad to be in her arms.

Sunday morning at breakfast, Mrs. Robinson announced it was time to move out of the guest lodge, and into the freshman dorms. We special girls would be paired with each other, at least for our freshman year. Did any of us wish to trade room mates? No one did. There were a limited number of baggage carts, so we had to finish with them by 11:00 to make them available to the girls who 'd be arriving later.

It didn't take Pattie and I long to move. One trip with the luggage cart piled high was enough. I took special care to make sure my new sewing machine didn't come to harm. Our new room was smaller and older than that in the lodge. We didn't have a private bath, but shared one with the girls in the next room. In fact, you could walk through the bath into their room if they left their door open. We were on the third floor, so we'd be getting a lot of exercise, as we discovered hauling our stuff up the stairs.

From about 11:00 until long after dinner, buses and cars rolled up disgorging girls. Many were happy and giggling, some serious and studious looking, a few looked sad or even scared.

About 3:00 our first suite mate, Kimberly, arrived by bus. Pattie and I helped carry her luggage and put her things away. Her clothes barely fit in the closet – definitely a clothes horse, but with a lot of outfits Pattie and I liked. She seemed nice enough – about my height, with a natural smile and light brown hair in a ponytail. I could tell she was religious because she hung a cross over her bed.

Her room mate, Sue, arrived about 5:30 with her parents and older brother – so she needed no help carrying her stuff. She was a couple of inches taller than me, thin, and had a mass of blond curls. A little acne marred her sweet, round face.

Her brother, Rudy, was a high school junior. He had a square jaw, broad shoulders, blue eyes and wavy blond hair. Every time he carried something up, he smiled at me while almost ignoring Kimberly and Pattie. His attention made me feel special, so I smiled back. When his parents started back to their car, he stayed back to ask my phone number. I gave it to him without thinking. He thanked me, gave me a quick kiss and ran down the stairs to catch up with his folks.

I stood enjoying the tingle for a minute. When I turned Pattie was glaring at me, but said nothing until we got back to our room. “What's going to happen when he finds out you're a boy and want to stay one, sweetie?”

“You're right Pattie. I wasn't thinking. If he calls or texts, I'll tell him I'm interested in girls.”

“Are you?”

I didn't answer. I liked being kissed by boys and I'd never been really kissed by any girl but Pattie. I must like girls more. Boys were supposed to.

Judy found me at dinner. She was assigned to room with Nancy, the child of an English engineer and his reporter wife. Nancy was quiet, maybe because of her Midlands accent, so I didn't learn much more about her. I was happy that Judy and Pattie seemed to hit it off. I like my friends to get along.

After dinner, Judy and I took a walk. Her week had been pretty uneventful -- mostly babysitting and packing. I filled her in on my week, starting with the uniform fitting session. She liked my larger chest and wider hips, and asked how I felt about my new figure. I surprised myself by admitting that I liked how I looked. She asked how Pattie and I got along and smiled when I told her about us kissing. Somehow, that made me feel better about it.

I hadn't done a thing on Ms. Kelvin's dress all day, and I was too tired to do anything when I got back to my room. Sue and Kimberly were arguing about something, so we were a bit timid in asking if we could use the bathroom first. Pattie and I showered to save time in the morning. When we finished we locked the door on our side to keep the noise down. We were asleep shortly after 9:00.

I dreamt about fawns again. This time I was hugging and petting them. Suddenly I was a fawn. Rudy came out of the bushes to hug and pet me. As he got close, the other fawns panicked and ran off. Rudy was upset at scaring them and I was left alone.

In the morning, I woke up before the 6:30 bell, still a little nauseous. I peed and was brushing my teeth when the bell startled me. I was still brushing when a sleepy Sue knocked – in a night gown so diaphanous her nipples showed clearly.

“Excuse me, I need to tinkle before I wet myself.”

I blushed and pressed my legs together to keep from popping out of my panties. She smiled, pulled down her panties, and sat to relieve herself I stared more than I should, then tried to cover my blushing by washing my face and spending a lot of time rubbing it dry.

“My mom says you should pat, not rub, Melissa. Rubbing is bad for your complexion.”

“Oh! Thanks. I guess I'm a tomboy still.”

“I've always been a girlie girl. … You know what?”

“What?”

“My mom read that there are some real boys here – you know ones that want to be girls like us.”

“Oh.”

“Do you think we'll be able to tell who they are?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, it'll be interesting to see.”

“So, what if you do find out?”

“I don't know. Maybe congratulate them for being smarter than other boys. What do you think?”

“I think they might be embarrassed to be singled out. They just want to be who they are – just like you and me.”

“I s'pose so. … How much longer are you guys going to be?”

“Not too long. We showered last night. We'll knock when were done.”

When I returned to our room, Pattie was in a panic. “I heard you guys talking. She's sure to see me without my make up. She'll know I was a boy!”

“We'll just say you're a basketball player – like Ms. Kelvin suggested.”

“I don't know.” Pattie was doing her make up as fast as she could.

Uniforms were not required for orientation. I thought the girls from rich families like Casey and Paula might dress to impress, so I wore my cobalt fit and flare dress. Pattie wore her twenty cent dress with black rumba panties. (When we moved, I discovered she had a huge collection of frilly panties. In contrast, mine were plain cotton pastels except for a lacy white satin pair mom bought me to wear under my confirmation dress.)

“I hope you are not planning to do a twirl that shows those off, Pattie!”

“A girl can never tell,” she smiled.

“You better not, or we won't be doing any more snuggling.”

“You're no fun at all!” she pouted, then gave me a kiss on the cheek.

We sat with Casey, Paula, Jane, Cyndie, Judy and Nancy at breakfast. I sat next to Pattie and across from Judy. Nancy wondered about orientation. Pattie started to say something about Sarah Wright-Jones, but I kicked her under the table and broke in.

“Yes, we met her when we got here. She's the headmistress, you know – seems rather serious. I expect she'll be very formal – give us a prepared speech or something.”

After breakfast, we walked to the main auditorium. On the way Pattie asked why I kicked her.

“Do you want everyone to know we've been here for a week and wonder why?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“OK, then be careful.”

“Good morning, girls, I am Sarah Wright-Jones, headmistress of Braintree Academy. I want to welcome each of you to our school. Today we are gathered to orient you freshman girls to student life at Braintree. You will learn about our school, its history, rules and customs. …”

She droned on for almost an hour about the school's stored history and influential graduates. By the end my bottom was quite sore.

“… You will all learn that knowledge is power and thus become the next generation of powerful Braintree women.”

Ms. Harding, a math teacher and the prefect of discipline, stood up and directed us to the freshman dining hall to pick up our class schedules. Then we were to go to Le Magasin to buy our books and uniforms if we still needed them.

My schedule was algebra, women's history, French, introduction to dance, lunch, English, psychology, and art. The text books must have weighed fifty pounds and cost almost $300.00. Luckily, my scholarship covered them. Pattie bought mostly used books but still spent over $200.00. I'd left my backpack at home, and bought a pink one with the Braintree logo for $35.00 of my own money. So much for saving money.

I had the afternoon free and made good progress on Ms. Kelvin's dress. I was ever so glad the lady at the fabric store had shown me how to sew knits. Even then, I had to unsew almost as much as I sewed before I got into the rhythm of it. I expected to finish by the end of the week if I didn't have too much homework.

Pattie came in and said little. I could tell she was still miffed at what she called my flirting with Rudy. I thought I was just being polite.

About 3:30, I got a text from Rudy asking how my day went. I replied that I shouldn't have led him on, as I was more interested in girls than guys. I wished him well.

When I got tired of stitching Ms Kelvin's dress, I looked at my new textbooks. The algebra text began with things I already knew, so I wasn't worried about it. I'd never heard of women's history, so I was curious about it. There were chapters about the Greeks (featuring Sappho), the Egyptians (female goddesses, priestesses, overseers, a woman pharaoh called Hatshepsut, and Cleopatra), and so on. As I'd only heard about Cleopatra, I was sure to learn a lot of new stuff. I couldn't figure out how to pronounce French, so I stopped trying before I developed bad habits. The English text had mostly women writers. Our psychology book had so many new words I gave up. For art we had an illustrated history and a workbook. I liked both. The workbook explained composition, proportion, perspective and so on. I really enjoyed some of the exercises.

When I was done looking at my new books, Pattie asked to see what I looked like in my dance togs.

“What dance togs?”

“The ones you bought for dance class, silly.”

“What? I didn't know we were supposed to.”

“Look at the bottom of your schedule.”

Sure enough, there was a note saying we needed a leotard, tights and ballet flats. I ran into Le Magasin just before it closed, but there were still lots of girls waiting to check out, so I had time to get my togs. I was the last to check out.

Tuesday was the beginning of classes. I still felt a bit off when I got up.

Again, Sue came in to relieve herself while I was still in the bathroom, but this time she was only wearing the panties of a baby doll set.

“I saw you staring at my boobs yesterday.”

I blushed and my heart raced.

“It's OK. Rudy texted you like girls, so I understand. I thought I'd give you a better look this morning. I hope you appreciate the view.”

I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to look, but she had gorgeous little tits with large aureoles and perky nipples, so it was hard not to. Finally I did. “I do like girls, but I want to know them as people before we get … You know, close. I'll come back when your done.”

“Don't go. I'm sorry.” She looked embarrassed and put an arm over her chest. “I never met a lesbian before, and … well, I'm curious. Besides there aren't any boys here – well none that I know – and … Please don't tell anyone.” Tears were forming in her eyes.

I felt sorry for her. “Look, we're all trying to figure out how to act and how to be, so we're bound to be dorky sometimes. Don't worry, I won't tell. We all have things we want to keep secret.” I leaned down and gave her an awkward hug and kiss on the cheek. Then I closed the door behind me. I went back after I heard her flush, wash and close the door behind her. This time I locked the door to her room. I didn't tell Pattie what happened.

Our schedules varied so we'd meet different girls in different classes and get to know more people. Pattie was in my algebra class, but not in women's history. Sue and Judy were. Of course, you can't get to know 300 girls, but I got to recognize quite a few.

Algebra was different than any of the math classes I'd taken before. There was no review of old material. Instead, Ms. Harding wrote down the axioms we'd be using and started explaining how to use them. I could see that Pattie was already lost. Math was not her thing. I resolved to help her.

We had Ms. Crawford for women's history. She wore her hair shorter than most boys and dressed in a tweed jacket, chocolate slacks, and a shirt and tie. We all had a warped view reality, because it's been shaped by men who selected some facts and ignored others to suppress women and support male power. She'd insure that we had a more accurate understanding of the world by the end of the year. We'd learn that women were smarter, emotionally stronger and made most of the decisions in modern families. I had to agree that my mother was like that.

She said that since men ran things, sometimes there was not as much documentation on women’s history as men's, so we had to use our imaginations to fill in the missing links. (I wondered how that happened if women made most of the decisions, but Ms. Crawford didn't seem like she was open to questions.) Anyway, she started with Sappho of Lesbos, who lived in the 600s BC. She was the best of the nine lyric poets of ancient Greece, which was what they had instead of pop song writers. Rhodopis was the most beautiful woman of her time, desired by men, but she chose to love Sappho over all her male admirers. Our homework was an essay on what made Sappho a great role model for educated women.

Mademoiselle Bonbleu was our French teacher. She was in her early twenties, had an enormous chest, and wore a scarlet satin blouse with a huge bow to draw attention to it. She told us how lucky we were that she was condescending to teach us the language of romance and diplomacy, as she was descended form Gascon nobility. Class was very boring, as we spent forty minutes drilling on how to pronounce Js and Us properly. We had still not satisfied her when the bell rang. I consoled myself that when we finally did learn some French, we'd pronounce it flawlessly.

I had dance instead of PE because I hated sports and had requested it on my application. Once I put my tights and leotard on, I was glad for my breast forms as falsies would have been pretty obvious. Our teacher was Michele Danseur, who was not French as far as I cold tell. He'd been a chorus dancer on Broadway before he retired. We'd be learning modern dance as we'd be in the chorus of a musical production with the “delightful boys” of Wroxford Seminary just before Christmas break. (Wroxford Seminary was “an upstart boy's boarding school” in the town of Wroxford, about 15 miles away. It was an upstart because it only dated back to 1917, while Braintree had been founded in 1848.)

When some of the girls got dreamy eyed about dancing with the “delightful boys,” he recalled that most of the boys in last year's performance had been too delightful to show much interest in girls. One or two of the girls muttered rude epithets. Michele (that is what we were to call him) chided them and said that artistic pursuits attracted boys with “aetherial souls” – whatever they were. We spent the rest of the period learning ballet positions and doing bar exercises.

At lunch Judy was beside herself with what she thought was Ms. Crawford's twisting of the known facts about Sappho. Sue didn't care, but thought it was great that Sappho was so powerful and accomplished, and rejected males. Even if Ms. Crawford did fill in some holes, she was teaching the class. We should write what she wanted to see in our homework and tests and not worry what other books might say – they were mostly written by men, anyway.

Ms. Cunningham, who looked old enough to have met Jane Austin, was our English teacher. She told us that we should view literature as a garden, in which we might skip from one flower to another, instead of plodding through it as a museum in which we must read every card in every case. To make her point the taught us about the life and works of Sarah Scott, one of the Bluestockings. She lead a wonderful life filled with trials, literary production, feminine domestic companionship and works of charity. It was much more interesting than any English class I had before. I left wanting to learn more of Sarah's life and works.

Dr. Koebler was our psychology teacher. We'd be learning about the male and female psyche, what motivated people to act as they do, and how to use this knowledge to become women of power and influence. She outlined the theories of Freud, teaching us about the id, the ego and the super ego and how dreams revealed our subconscious mind. When I discussed this with Judy at dinner, she frowned and went on about Popper's falsifiability criterion showing Freud's theories were unscientific. Still, some of his ideas explained things I'd wondered about, so maybe it wasn't all nonsense.

Art was my favorite class. Ms. Sanchez was our teacher. She'd been all over the world and wowed us with pictures she'd taken showing the development of art from the cavemen to works still hanging in New York galleries, waiting to be appreciated for the first time. It really got my juices flowing to see it laid out like that. I knew I'd never be up to the level of anything she showed, but I wanted to get back to my sketch pad and sewing machine, and create something – anything.

As we were all walking back to our rooms after dinner, Sue asked if she could talk to me. So we drifted away from the group and headed toward the creek.

“Mel, I feel really weird about what I did.”

I did not want to think about it, because when I did I couldn't help but see her topless, which made my tucked penis uncomfortably hard. “Look, I said I wouldn't tell, and I won't. So forget about it.”

“I believe you, but I want you to .. well not think I'm some kind of lesbian slut. I never was attracted to girls before … but there's something about you … maybe because your kind of a Tomboy with your hair and all … not like other girls … and I don't know … like … how girls let other girls know … you know … that they're interested. It's easy for you because you already knew you liked other girls … You and Judy already knew each other – and I see how jealous Pattie is with you … maybe you could … like help me out here.” She was blushing and her eyes were starting to water.

She was being so open with me, I couldn't lie. “Sue, your asking the wrong person. Maybe your not attracted to girls at all.”

She looked very puzzled.

“Look, you have to promise not to tell, but after you spilled your guts to me, I have to tell you the truth – you aren't attracted to girls – I'm one of those boys you were talking about the other morning.”

She stopped walking and looked stunned. “No way!”

“Way.”

“Does Pattie know?”

“Yes.”

“Are you two … you know … doing it?”

“No.”

She was silent for a while, then and started walking again. Slowly, relief spread over her face. “So, your not a lez, and neither am I! … and when you texted Rudy … God! He'd die if he knew he kissed a boy – even a trans boy!” She started belly laughing so hard she had to stop walking.

“Let's not tell him. OK?”

“Yeah sure! It'd kill him!” She giggled.

“And you'll keep this between us?”

“On one condition.”

“Condition?”

“Yeah, I want to see it and touch it.”

“What?”

“You know, your dick, silly! I never saw or touched one before – well except on a baby changing diapers.”

“I don't know. I mean no girl ever touched it – or even saw it.”

“I thought you said you liked girls?”

“I think I do, but it's kind of – well, theoretical.”

“Theoretical? Theoretical!” Now she was laughing harder than before. She laughed so hard that she had to sit on a bench to recover. When she did, she asked, “Well, are you going to let me see it? You want me to keep my mouth shut don't you?”

“This isn't fair. I kept your secret for free.”

“Yeah, you're not me. I want to see and touch one and there aren't all that many at Braintree. So, deal?”

“Yeah, OK,” I said reluctantly. Well, my brain was reluctant anyway.

She grabbed my hand and dragged me back to the dorm. “We'll each go into the bathroom from our own side and turn on the shower, that way Kimberly and Pattie won't know we're in there together.”

“OK.” Part of me felt relieved that it wasn't my choice. Being forced made me feel less guilty.

“Well, let's see!”

I unzipped my skirt and started to grab my girdle, when she said, “No! Everything off! I want to see all of you!”

“That wasn't the deal!”

“It's my deal, so I set the rules! Strip.”

What could I do? I was starting to feel helpless, but somehow I didn't mind. Once I had my skirt and blouse off, she said, “Your bra is prettier than mine! Now, take it off so I can see you as a boy.”

I did.

“Whoa! Where did you get those? They're bigger than mine … You on hormones?”

I blushed. “They're breast forms!”

She ran her hand over them and gave them a squeeze. “They feel real.” She stoked my nipple gently. “Can you feel that?”

“Of course not.”

“Too bad, I like doing it.” She was getting flush as well. OK, girdle next.”

I popped out as soon as my girdle was down.

“This is so sexy – half girl and half boy – even if the boy half is not as big as I expected.” She reached out and touched me.

“You can feel that can't you?”

“Yes,” I managed to breathe out.

“And it feels nice? Not like a theory?”

“No, not like a theory.”

“Do you want me to hold it?”

I was silent. As soon as she wrapped he fingers around me I made a mess all over her skirt.

“Wow! No wonder my cousin complains about boys who cum too soon! … and look what you've done to my skirt!”

“I think you did it, Sue.”

“Yeah, I guess I did. That was so cool – like you'd do what ever I told you! … Well almost anyway.”

“I better rinse off so Pattie thinks I was showering. Then you can wash your skirt.”

“Yeah. I'll tell Kimberly I got spaghetti sauce on it at dinner.”