Artistic, fashion minded and pretty, Harold is a lovely boy who finds he must survive in one of the rowdiest fraternity houses on campus. Soon he figures that his very femininity is the charm that will take him through difficult adventures.

The Girl in the Frat House — Part Two
Our lovely hero turns the tables on the rubes
and becomes the object of several affections

By Katherine Day
(Copyright 2008 by Katherine Anne Day)

Chapter Three: Beer Talk

The legal age for drinking in the state was 21, but that didn’t seem to stop the boys of Omega Delta Phi, or the “Megas,” as they were known popularly, from holding one long beer party, beginning Thursday night and continuing into Sunday evening most weekends. Still 17 years old, Harold was the youngest member of the fraternity, but at least three-fourths of the boys had yet to reach the legal drinking age.

Harold often remembered his confusing Thursday night visit early in the semester with his fraternity brother, Kevin, at the gay and lesbian coffee shop located far across campus from fraternity row and the Mega House. Kevin had made a pass at Harold, telling him how “pretty” he was and how he was attracted to Harold. Yet, Kevin, a scholarship student, was smart enough not to push their relationship, telling Harold they were remain cool to each other at the fraternity house.

“You must be less of a sissy,” Kevin had advised Harold, “Or else, you’ll face awful reactions from these jerks.”

“I know, but it seems I can’t help myself.”

“Harold, if you’re to survive in this world, you’ve got to be more manly. Really, my dear. You must,” Kevin had said as they parted. His voice had a pleading quality.

Harold, of course, knew full well that his growing feminine mannerisms were being noticed; yet, he seemed unable to curb his behavior. His happiest times of the week were when he was working backstage in the costume room, fitting costumes, altering them and even designing a few. There, he could be the girl he truly felt he was, joining with the costume crew headed by Prof. Emily Saatchi, the round faced young woman who regularly wore colorful Hindu saris and had said to Harold that he had promise to be a truly great designer.

“You have an understanding of what best fits each actors needs,” she told him in the third week, as they had completed fittings and we deep into alterations.

“Thank you, professor,” he said, feeling so pleased.

The professor had drawn Harold aside one afternoon just as he was about to leave. She said: “It astounds me to see how well you work with the girls. You fit in with us so well, and I hope you don’t mind being in this all-girl atmosphere. I’d hate to lose you.”

Harold blushed, and reassured the professor: “I love it here. I hope you’ll continue to keep me on the crew.”

“Yes, honey. We all like you, and you’re so talented.”

On the days he worked with the costume crew, Harold went to a dressing room and changed into a pair of low-cut girl jeans and a black tank top. He wrapped his long hair in a scarf, as so many of the backstage girls did. As a result, he was accepted there as one of the girls. He even let everyone know that when he was working they should call him “Heidi,” so as to not raise questions as to his gender. As far as anyone knew, he was female; it made it easier for him to work with the actors who expected that a girl would be fitting them.

It was the only time while he was on campus that he could assume the female role, which was becoming so integral to his very being. He knew his slender arms and narrow shoulders carried a natural feminine beauty; also, he was aware that his legs, too, were among the most lovely among the cast and crew.

He and Rachel had become close friends, usually joining each other at the corner of the quad to walk together to the Theater for their costume work. Their friendship was an easy one; it was not a boy-girl friendship, but a friendship of peers. It was unspoken, too, that they would not become romantically involved.

On a Thursday night in late October, as they were leaving, Rachel suggested stopping at a fast-food place that specialized in vegetarian food for a snack.

“Great,” Harold said. “The frat food is so heavy and disgusting.”

After they were seated, Rachel said, her slender, plain face taking on a serious look, “Harold, I think you may be my best friend.”

“Oh, I like you, too, Rachel. We both seem to have so much in common.”

“I know,” she said, a twinkle seeming to grow in her eye. “And I hope you don’t mind what I’ll say now.”

“Oh, I won’t mind. I want you to be honest with me.”

Rachel had large hands for a girl, and she took reached over, grabbing Harold’s two slender and soft hands, and she held them gently.

“I consider you to be a girl friend. I hope you don’t mind me saying that. I just loved it when you told us to call you Heidi.”

Harold looked into her earnest green eyes, seeing the basic honesty that rested there. Rachel was one of the most unpretentious persons he’d ever seen, and he felt a close kinship to her.

“I’m glad we can be girl friends,” he said finally.

“I was afraid I’d hurt your feelings if I said that.”

“Oh Rachel. I feel I’m more girl than boy. Am I so weird?”

“I guess you’re different,” she said. “It must be terrible for you in that frat house.”

“I hate it, but so far it’s not been too bad.”

“They must tease you, I bet.” She let go of his hands to finish eating here vegetarian quiche plate.

“A little. It’s not too bad. My roommate acts like a jerk sometimes, but he’s actually been very nice. I try to spend as little time there as possible.”

“Why did you pledge that house? It’s supposed to be the rowdiest.”

“It is,” Harold replied. “But my dad went there, and he was a big football hero in his day and he died in the First Gulf War, so I get free housing there. It’s some kind of a grant that provides for kids of deceased vets to be there. And mom doesn’t have much money, so I take what I can get.”

She reached over, grabbing his left hand, holding it loosely. “I’m so sorry for you, but you have such talent, I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“As long as I can be Heidi,” he said, bursting out with a laugh.

She joined him in the laugh. “You’ll always be Heidi with me.”

With anyone else, Harold reasoned, his ready admission that he liked the idea of being a girl would have been humiliating. But with Rachel and her seemingly unassuming nature he felt comfortable; perhaps it helped that she was not a particularly pretty girl and was indeed a bit too tall and gangly. No doubt, he felt, Rachel must have been felt somewhat “left out” from the “in-crowd” at school, as well.

Nonetheless, there was a beauty to Rachel’s smile and her sparkling eyes that would do her well as she grew older. He was pleased to be able to be Rachel’s girl friend.

Back at Omega House, even though it was only 7 p.m., the Thursday night party had already begun. Harold, who had been dreaming thoughts of being “Heidi” on his long walk to the house, suddenly was shocked to a terrible reality: Already there would be drunks on the porch and in the living room that he’d have to pass to enter the house.

And true to his worst expectations, the crude boys of Mega House were blocking the stairs to the porch, sitting on every step, beer cups in hand, yelling taunts at passing girls, some throwing footballs back and forth and several already out of it, sitting there staring vacantly.

“Excuse me,” Harold said tentatively, in trying to wend his way through the groups.

“Let the little girl through,” yelled one of the noisiest of boys. “Want a beer, little girl?”

The noisy boy, his large body, decked out in a football jersey, and already stained with spilled beer, blocked Harold’s way. The boy tried to shove a beer into Harold hands, still not letting him through, keeping his huge sweaty body in front of Harold’s progress up the stairs.

Harold tried to look unconcerned, to show these boys didn’t bother him, but the truth was he was scared almost to the point of tears, knowing that it wouldn’t take much beer in any of these boys to start pushing Harold around. No one would defend him, he was sure, and he knew he was not strong enough to force the issue.

“What’s it like to kiss a fairy queen like her?” taunted a sinewy, slender dark haired boy.

“Look at her. We got a beauty queen in our house,” said the first boy, whose name of Thomas.

“Leave me alone,” Harold said, almost so softly that no one heard. His book bag was heavy on his back and he was tired, and he wanted so badly to get to his room. Suddenly the slender boy engulfed Harold in his arms, and began to kiss him. Harold felt the scruffy beard on the boy’s face, smelled the beer that coated his mouth area and felt revulsion.

He was too weak to resist the boy’s lips as they smacked upon his. What was he to do? He was powerless and he had heard stories of how boys with feminine tendencies were assaulted and raped. Was this happen to him now? The boys in the frat house were succumbing to the mob rule in which he would likely be thrown to the ground, his clothes torn from him, his puny body and tiny bit of manhood ridiculed and laughed at. In his terror, Harold could no longer hold on to his book bag and it slid off his narrow shoulders crashing to the ground, spilling its contents down the stairs.

The boy’s lips continued to press upon Harold’s and his hands reached down toward Harold crotch. Harold began to cry, tears flowing down his face. He was so defenseless.

His fright was heightened, when he heard Thomas, the large, husky lad, yell out: “Look at this. She’s a girl.”

The boy kissing Harold removed his lips and loosened his hold on Harold as he stopped kissing to look at what the other boy had found.

Thomas was holding up all of the evidence he would need to portray Harold as the “girl.” It was a clear plastic pouch containing all of Harold makeup items: his lipstick, lip gloss, eyeliner, mascara and combs.

“And look at this,” he continued, holding up a pink tank top he had worn at the rehearsal in the costume room.

“Leave me be!” Harold protested. His voice cracked, reaching a high girlish register, and he began to cry more noticeably.

“Where are all your dresses?” Thomas demanded.

Harold knew it was fruitless to fight back; there were too many of them. He was too weak to resist whatever they wanted to do to him. Finally, it dawned on him: Maybe he could play along with them, try to join in the fun, make himself the focus of their fun rather than the victim of their meanness.

Still in the hold of the slender boy, whose name he finally heard was “Mark,” he squirmed and wriggled, but till found himself powerless. As the boy tried to kiss him again, he did the one thing he knew would free him. He kneed the boy in the crotch, nailing him hard and direct and finally gaining his freedom from Mark, who squealed with a loud: “Owwwwwwww. You sissy bitch.”

Momentarily free, and Harold realized he had to come up with something. His kneeing of Mark had slowed the mob behavior, and he heard someone yell, “Leave him alone. We don’t pick on our brothers in the frat.”

The plea, from the Henry Williamston III, the frat president who had appeared on the porch, seemed to stop the taunting, and Harold said to Thomas: “Gimme my stuff back. I need it for the Theater group.”

“Theater group?” Thomas asked derisively. “A bunch of fairies prancing together?”

“No the University players,” Harold said, loud and firm, gaining some confidence now.

“Oh you going to act there?” asked the president.

“I’m trying out. Right now I’m in backstage crew.”

“Cool,” said another boy.

“Trying out to be a girl?” Thomas continued his nasty tone.

Harold blushed, knowing he might have liked that idea, but he answered, feeling even more committed to standing up to his taunters: “I just need that makeup stuff for my work on the crew. Now, gimme my bag and stuff back.”

With the fraternity president watching, Thomas and Mark handed over the book bag and the cosmetic pouch to Harold, who was fighting to overcome his fear and humiliation with his sudden appearance of bravado.

He knew now that the only thing he had going for himself now was his basic femininity, and he decided to make a theatrical exit, giving an exaggerated flourish of his hands, coupled with a quick turn of his head that caused his long hair to flair out and speak out in a faux soprano voice: “You boys have been just fabulous, but alas I must leave your lovely company.”

And into the house, Harold marched, wiggling his behind in a most girlish manner, bringing out loud hoots and whistles.

Despite his outward bravado, Harold was nearly in tears as he approached the stairs on the way to his second floor room. He was stopped by the fraternity president at the foot of the stairs.

“Wow, you really are quite a performer,” Williamston said. “Doing that girl stuff really shut them up. You were marvelous.”

Suddenly Harold’s composure broke, and he began crying out loud, quickly finding the president’s strong arms around him, leading him up the stairs. He was so embarrassed and was certain he’d be kicked out of the frat house now after that performance.

But Williamston said nothing, leading Harold silently into his room. Fortunately, his roommate was not there. Harold was now sobbing uncontrollably, and was still being held up by the muscular arm of the fraternity president.

“Harold, go ahead and cry,” Williamston said. He now drew the sobbing Harold toward him, holding him tightly against his hard, bulging chest. One of the larger boy’s hands caressed his head gently while the other held Harold firmly.

The warmth of their bodies added to the sweetness of the moment, and Harold found himself welcoming the manly scent of the older boy’s body, the sweat from his armpits. It was an exquisite moment, one that Harold had rarely felt from any human being, except his mother. This large commanding young man was holding him tenderly, exhibiting a kindness that was so generous and welcoming. The hug was different from Kevin’s caresses which felt sensual and sexual.

He stopped crying, and raised his head from Henry’s shirt, to look in the older boy’s eyes. They were clear, bright and blue eyes, and they were also wet, almost teary. The other boy’s lips were surprisingly full and lush, and his face was freshly shaved, with a slight scent of a spicy aftershave lotion.

Henry finally broke the silence, saying: “Are you OK now, Harold?”

“Yes. Thank you, Henry,” Harold said, now drying his eyes.

The two separated, Harold going to his bed, sitting down. Henry stood over him for a moment, saying, “Harold, I want you to know I’ll help you out. Your mother told me to keep an eye on you, knowing how young you are. By the way, no one around here calls me ‘Henry.’ So, you can call me ‘Willy.’ OK?”

“OK, . . . ah . . . Willy, I guess I needed your help out there,” Harold said.

“I don’t know if you did,” the older boy said. “I thought you handled the situation pretty good. Kneeing that leaker Mark for one thing.”

Harold smiled. He had looked on an Internet site that told women how to defend themselves, and read up on various defensive moves the so-called weaker sex could use.

“Well, it was the only thing I knew to do.”

“And, putting on that girly act. That stopped them in their tracks.”

Harold blushed, knowing full well the “girly act” was indeed fairly natural for him.

“You know you pledges need to do a show for the house next month,” Henry said. “Why don’t you go in drag, and really ham it up. I think they’d love it.”

Harold said: “Really. Won’t they think I’m gay or something?”

“Not if you ham it up enough. You could probably go as Britney Spears or Lindsey Lohan before they both got so bent out of shape, and really act it up. You gotta stand out here in this house, for your own defense.”

“Well, I’m going out for cross country,” Harold said. “I can run pretty good.”

Henry smiled. “I don’t know exactly if you’ll ever be an athlete, but try it out.”

“Guess I’m better as a girl, right?” Harold said, with a flirty smile.

Henry blushed. “Perhaps you are. I better go now. Get changed and come on down; you don’t need to drink beer. I’ll see you have some fun.”

With that, Henry left the room. Harold was confused; was this huge, masculine, handsome young man really his friend? What was this weird feeling he had of wanting to kiss him, to feel wrapped into his warm body? He wondered, too, whether he was feeling the same feeling girls get when they are being loved and admired and protected by a strong boy.

Chapter Four: The Princess of Mega House Appears

Harold decided he needed to shower and clean up. He went down the hall to the shower room, feeling comfortable with the knowledge there’d be no other boys there since they’d all be downstairs at the party. He hated using the group shower, where his naked body betrayed his fragile daintiness, his muscular weakness and his tiny piece of manhood. When others were there, he always tried to position himself so that his pathetic penis was not open to the eyes of other boys.

The fraternity president had encouraged him to join the party; Harold wondered whether Henry was sincere, or was he merely setting him up for further humiliation. Yet, the advice he seemed to be hearing from people like Kevin and Henry was that he should stand up to the cruel taunting and teasing.

That evening, having faced cruel taunting in various settings during the weeks he was at college, Harold looked into the mirror of the shower room, the fog only now slowing diminishing, the mirror surface clearing from the top. He was entranced by the slow retreat downward of the misty surface, exposing first the top of his head and the wet light brown hair. Soon he saw his forehead and its smooth pale skin; then came the brow, and his light, slender wafts of hair, leading to his blue, sparkling eyes and his rather high cheekbones. The view then offered up lips, full and luscious, with the view continuing down to his narrow chin and his skinny neck. The mirror bottomed out, displaying only the top of almost dainty shoulders and tender arms.

With a light, airy movement of his hand, he flicked several strands of wet hair from his face, smiling. His face was beautiful, almost porcelain in appearance, smooth and lovely.

“Yes, you’re very pretty,” came a soft gentle male voice, disturbing his reverie.

Harold was startled: “What? Who?” He grabbed a towel and draped it around his waist quickly, seeking to cover his nudity and his shamefully small manhood. Into the mirror, now cleared of it mist came the face of Jason, the fat boy who had initially assaulted him in a drunken stupor early in the semester.

“Hi, Harold,” Jason said. “I’m sorry I surprised you.”

Harold smiled, noting a kindness in the other boy’s demeanor. He continued to cover himself.

“Oh, I was hot, and needed to clean up,” Harold said, not knowing why he needed to explain himself.

“I’m sorry for that scene on the porch. You know us ‘Mega’s’ when we get drunk.”

“I don’t know if I can continue to stay here. No one accepts me for what I am.”

“That’s not true,” Jason said quickly. “I do. I think you’re cool.”

Harold wasn’t sure where this was going. Why was he suddenly getting such positive attention from people like Willy, the frat president, and now Jason. It was true Jason had become friendly after his first boorish behavior, but Harold realized it might have been Jason knuckling under to the mob pressures that affect many groups, particularly boys in fraternity houses, where it’s expected they are to be hard drinkers, champion whore-mongers and jocks.

In his own way, Jason was a bit of an outcast, like Harold himself. Jason had an intellectual streak, Harold had discovered in their earlier conversations. Coupled with his pudginess, his interest in the arts and studies must have made Jason, too, feel he was not “one of the boys.”

“I loved how you kicked Thomas in the balls. It reminded me of the first night we met,” Jason laughed.

Harold smiled, remembering how he ended Jason’s beery assault with a knee in that boy’s manhood. “It’s what a girl has to do to defend herself.”

The minute he said those words he regretted them. He had just seemed to acknowledge openly his girliness to this boy. The fact was he knew he could never fight off boys bent on beating him up or sexually assaulting him without using weapons that women had used for years: biting or kicking the assailant in the crotch.

Jason merely laughed. “Well, you gotta do what you gotta do.”

“Actually, Willy was worried about you,” Jason finally said. “He hopes you’ll come down and join the party. I said I’d check on you.”

“Really?” Harold said. “Well let me get dressed then.”

Harold was tired of being bullied, and of trying to look more masculine than he really felt was natural. As he walked back to his room, Harold began debating with himself; he was pleased to see that he seemed to have developed some friends among the frat boys, and therefore he felt he should probably dress as masculine as possible, in order not to embarrass them.

Yet, he felt he should be able to show who he truly was. He was tempted to dress in a short skirt and camisole, and march into the party showing them how lovely a girl he could be. He smiled to himself as he contemplated that eventuality. As he approached his room, he realized that Jason was following alongside. The other boy touched Harold’s arm as if to slow him down.

“What?” Harold said.

“You have any girl clothes in there?” Jason said, nodding his head toward Harold’s room.

“Why?”

“I think you probably do, Harold.”

Harold suddenly felt fear in his heart. What was Jason getting at? Did he want to humiliate him again? Harold refused to answer, and instead began entering his room.

“Harold, listen to me,” the other boy pleaded. “I’m not being funny. I think you should dress up like a pretty girl and go down there and challenge those guys. Stand up to them.”

“As a girl?” Harold asked incredulously.

“Yes, as a girl,” Jason said, now grabbing both of Harold’s slim arms, his face now close to Harold’s emitting a slight beer odor.

“Are you drunk or something, Jason?”

“No, and I’m dead serious. I’ve watched you, and I think you’d like to dress like a girl. And, I think you’re really a special person. Really, I do.”

Harold could see the serious expression in Jason’s pudgy, but earnest face. It was obvious the boy had detected Harold natural feminine characteristics. Harold wondered why the boy was taking such an interest in him now; yet, there was a sincerity that emanated from the lad’s demeanor.

“I should go down there dressed as a girl, you say?”

“Yes, Harold. Stick it right in their face! Otherwise, they’ll challenge you the rest of your days here. Let them know you’re different.”

“Oh, that might just make them tease me more,” Harold protested.

“Nah, if you challenge them, they’ll back off. The ones that are bullying you are spoiled brats and cowards. They’ve already seen you know how to fight back. You’re no pushover.”

Harold was beginning to like this idea. And, it was true, he had learned how to protect himself, in spite of being so small and seemingly unmuscular.

“Harold,” Jason persisted. “You can just act tonight like it’s a big joke. Dress up, and I’ll escort you down the stairs as your date.”

“Really? You’d do that?”

Jason smiled. “Yes. I’d be proud to. That’s if you’ll have me as your date. I’m not the handsomest boy in the House. And, you’d be the prettiest date I ever had.”

Harold giggled, a high, girly giggle, and he lifted up on the balls of his feet, planting a kiss smack on Jason’s face. Suddenly, he stopped, exclaiming: “My God, what did I do? I’m sorry Jason.”

Jason was flushed now. “I liked it.”

They both stepped away from each other, realizing this innocent act of joy might be misconstrued if anyone else saw the kiss.

“I’m not sure this is such a good idea,” Harold said. “But, let’s do it.”

“Do you have something to wear?”

“Yes, it’s not much, but it’ll do. Gimme ten minutes and I’ll be ready. Come back then.”

At the back of his computer case, Harold had hidden several panties, a bra with breast forms, a pair of light blue colored girl shorts and a pink sleeveless tee-shirt with bunnies on the front. From deep in a garment bag, he uncovered a pair of sequined silver short sandals and a pair of short white girl’s socks.

From the makeup kit he carried to and from play rehearsal, he removed lipstick, rouge and eyeliner. He also found two pink hair ribbons; he’d ask Jason to help him tie his hair into two pigtails when he got there. That would test Jason’s commitment to this project, Harold thought.

Jason’s commitment would also be tested, Harold realized, if he’d really come back in ten minutes, and if he’d comeback not to tease or harass Harold but to escort him down the large central staircase before the eyes of the Frat boys; and, Harold wondered, too, what the Frat boys’ reactions as his tender, slight form, dressed as a cute teen girl, was guided down the wide central staircase on the arms of this tub of a boy named Jason.

A rap on the door interrupted Harold’s fearful thoughts: “Are you ready, Harold?”

“Come, in, Jason,” Harold answered in a high, almost sweet voice, he adopted when he dressed as a girl.

“Wow,” Jason gasped. He was speechless for a moment as he looked at Harold, finally uttering only: “You’re so cute.”

Jason had changed his clothes, too, in the intervening ten minutes, putting on a clean light blue shirt with a button down collar and a pair of pressed khaki slacks. When the boy cleaned himself up, his apparently inherent sloppiness was gone, and he looked quite handsome.

Harold twirled about, in a light, girlish motion, his hair still hanging loose and flowing freely.

“Jason, would you be a dear and help me tie ribbons in my hair?” Harold asked in a bit of theatrical excess.

“Er. I don’t know how.”

“Come, I’ll help you,” Harold said.

Jason came over slowly, and awkwardly tied the strands of Harold long light brown into two bobs at the back. Jason’s big fingers tussled a bit with the process, but finally finished, and he stepped back to look.

“You’re unbelievable, Harold,” the bigger boy said. “I’ve never dated a girl as cute or pretty as you. Never. But, then I never had lots of dates, but I bet when all the girls from sororities get here, you’ll still be the prettiest.”

“You’re a sweet boy,” Harold said, adding a coquettish flourish with the tilt of his now lovely head.

“We better go, Harold. Oh, but I can’t call my girl Harold all night, can I?”

Harold smiled: “No, I’m Heidi.”

Despite their outward bravado, Harold and Jason suddenly realized the gravity of what they were about to do. There was hope not too much beer had been consumed, and their reception would be at least somewhat respectful and orderly. Jason had them pause at the top of the central stairs, with the frat boys and perhaps a dozen girls mingling on the first floor.

Harold was astounded to see Henry “Willy” Williamston, the frat president, bound up the stairs to greet them, carrying a portable electric bullhorn. He held his hand up, in a motion to stop Harold and Jason from continuing down the stairs. Jason whispered something in Henry’s ear, and the president put the bullhorn to his mouth, gave it a brief screech to quiet everyone, yelling:

“Ladies and gentlemen. The men of Mega House and their guests. Let me present to you tonight our Pledge Queen for the Class of 2011: Heidi Cochran and her escort, Jason Conrad. Let’s give Heidi applause for being the prettiest pledge in the 102 year history of Mega House.”

A giant cheer went up, followed by hoots and whistles. Jason and Harold (now Heidi) stood at the head of the stairs milking in the cheers, until Harold decided to play along with the fun. He did an eloquent, lovely curtsey, prompting Jason to bow, although a bit more awkwardly.

There were more cheers, and Jason slowly led his lovely partner down the stairs. Already Harold could hear voices from several of the visiting sorority girls saying: “Who is she?” “My God, she’s still a teeny-bopper.” “I have to admit she’s a cutie.”

Jason turned out to be the perfect date; he gently held the lovely Harold by the arm, steering her to meet some of the other fraternity brothers, with “Heidi” playing the demure shy maiden. He introduced her to a pair of girls from the Kappa Gamma Gamma sorority across the street, and left Harold in their company while he ventured for some soda for his date.

“Don’t you drink?” one of the girls, a blonde with a milky white complexion, a bit of fleshiness oozing from the spaghetti strapped camisole she wore.

“No,” Harold said softly, using the high register voice he had cultivated through the years. “I’m only 17, and I’m afraid to drink.”

“Oh,” she said. “I guess you’ll learn soon enough.”

“What sorority are you in?” said the other, a short, almost emaciated appearing girl with a narrow face whose name Harold soon learned was Jennifer.

“Ah,” Harold hesitated, moving his hand shyly to his face. “Just a friend of Jason’s.”

“You’re not his date?” Jennifer asked.

Harold moved his head in a flirty tilt, and laughed lightly. He was beginning to warm to his role as the petite, sparklingly pretty Heidi. “No, just friends, we’re from same part of the state. He’s been nice enough to show me around.”

Jennifer seemed to smile at that, saying, “Oh, that’s nice of him. He’s very nice.”

The other girl smiled and put her hand on Jennifer’s shoulder. “I think Jennifer was jealous. She dated Jason a few times last year.”

“No, I’m not, Jason’s just a nice boy.” Jennifer’s quick response, a bit aggressive, exhibited just a bit of enviousness. It was obvious she had felt threatened by the appearance of Harold as a lovely young maiden on the arm of her former date.

Jason appeared, a beer and a soda in his hands, handing the soda to Harold, who took it and held the plastic cup primly.

“How are you Jennifer?” the boy asked. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

“I guess not,” the girl said, a sarcastic tone now sounding obvious.

“Oh,” he laughed, a bit defensively. “Heidi is new in school, and she was lonely and she’s so young. I was just showing her around and the boys in the frat house were glad to welcome her.”

“Oh,” Jennifer said, recovering her form. “That’s nice of you, Jason. Meet my friend, Missy. She’s a Kappa, too.”

Jennifer had now moved close to Jason, her hand occasionally touching his forearm as they talked. Harold could see the session was becoming uneasy, as Jennifer, it was apparent, had a crush on this big lummox of a boy, who beneath his chubby exterior seemed to have a warmth and depth not easily seen.

“What you majoring in?” Missy asked Harold, letting Jennifer and Jason begin a conversation.

“Oh, I’m not declaring a major yet,” he said, taking a prim sip from the straw of his soda. He was holding it in two hands, standing stiffly erect, taking the pose he imagined a young lady would hold.

“I’m in design,” Missy announced. “I’m a junior now.”

Harold smiled. Since Missy was dressed in the “sorority girl” uniform that evening, he wasn’t too sure how much design consciousness the girl might actually have. Then, he realized he was being snobbish, and giggled silently to himself, thinking he was obviously acting like any other girl would in judging another.

“Well. I’m applying for drama school,” he said finally.

“To be an actress?”

Harold giggled. “No, I’m too shy for that. Backstage crew, maybe costume design.”

“Cool,” Missy said, as she appeared to seek to ask Harold more questions, which Harold had hoped to avoid. Jason, now being monopolized by Jennifer, looked desperately at Harold as if to say, “I’m sorry, dear. I’d rather be with you.”

Harold was becoming uneasy, and was trying to figure out a way to escape this, when Henry “Willy” Williamston, the frat president, came by and broke into the crowd, acknowledging Missy, whom he obviously knew.

“Jason, can I steal this lovely lady from you for a few minutes?” Henry said, his voice in a commanding tone.

Before Jason could answer, Harold felt his arm begin held firmly by a huge hand and he was guided away in the grasp of the fraternity president.

“They think I’m a girl!” was all Harold could say, as the two ventured through the crowd. Willy led Harold to the back porch, which for the moment was empty of others, and Harold wondered what was on the frat president’s mind, and Harold was fearful the husky young man might be wanting to sexually approach him; Wlly had ben so affectionate before.

It was obvious that Willy must have sensed Harold’s fears, for he took Harold’s left hand and held it gently, but firmly, in his right hand, and looking into Harold’s eyes in the dim light, he said: “Heidi? Do you mind if I call you that now?”

Harold looked into the older boy’s eyes, reflected from the hallway light that beamed out onto the dark porch, and felt reassured.

“No,” Harold said slowly, carefully. “I kind of like being called ‘Heidi.”

“I was hoping you’d say that, Heidi. We’d like you to become the first girl member of Mega House.”

“What?” Harold asked.

“Why not? You can see the hit you made tonight. I think all the boys are in love with you,” he said with a smile.

Harold was confused now. It didn’t make sense that there’d be a “girl” in the frat house, except to be there in the Biblical sense, that is, as a sex object and perhaps even the target of a gang sex game.

“I can’t do that, Willy,” Harold finally said. “They like me only as Heidi. They’d tease me, bother me. I’m afraid.”

“Harold, don’t think that. The guys are impressed with you; first of all, you so easily turn yourself into a dainty, lovely girl. It’s seems so natural for you.

“And second, you can live here as a boy all you want and become our ‘Heidi’ when you’d like, or for special occasions.”

“Oh that’d be so weird. I couldn’t do that. Besides, Mega House might be kicked out of the Greek Council or censured by the national for having a girl live in, even a girl like me.”

“No, I’ve talked with others of my leadership. We like the idea. It’d help our image to the fact that we would openly accept transgendered persons; I think we probably have some gay members now who won’t own up to it.”

“Oh Willy, I don’t know if I feel like such a pioneer.”

“You won’t have to be. You can stay here as a boy all you want, but if you want to dress up pretty for us from time to time, that would be so cool.”

“You think so?”

“Yes, my dear Heidi,” he said giving Harold’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Harold suddenly felt safe and protected by this strong, handsome young man.

“And, Heidi,” Willy continued, “We have a single room for you, with a private bath, so you could keep all you girl stuff to yourself. And, you could lock your door.”

Harold explained there was a vacant room on the second floor, which had once been occupied by a graduate student who acted as “floor monitor.” The position had been abolished as no longer necessary in the days of “liberated” students, and thus the room had been opened up for use.

“Now, Harold,” Willy said, reverting to Harold’s male name, “I want you to know that I will never abuse you; I know you are very intelligent and, besides, you are a strong guy in your own way. I think you were afraid I might assault you, like the boys did on the porch. No, I’m interested in my own future, Harold, and acting like a drunken frat boy is not one of them.”

“Thank you, Willy.” Harold was certain his trust in this young man was warranted.

The pair returned to the party, and Harold saw Jason was still entangled with Jennifer. In his absence, Harold saw that another frat boy commandeered Missy. Jason looked hopelessly at Harold, as Jennifer prattled on and on.

Harold gave Jason a dainty little wave, bringing a desperate smile to the boy’s face. When Missy saw Harold, she motioned the lovely “Heidi” to join them.

“Are you pledged to any sorority, Heidi?” she asked when Harold joined their circle.

“Um, no.” he replied.

“We’d love to have you pledge the Kappa’s, wouldn’t we Jennifer?”

Jennifer nodded eagerly.

“She could be our candidate for the Greek Princess contest,” Jennifer said. “You’re so lovely and sweet.”

“I bet she’d win,” said Jason, with a wink at Harold.

Harold tilted his head in a shy response, brushing his flowing hair with a light wispy flick of his hand.

“You’re the cutest thing,” Missy said. “What d’ya’ say, Heidi?”

Jason interrupted. “Heidi’s already settled in where she’s at.”

With that, Jason grabbed Harold’s arm and with a dismissive wave said “goodbye” to Missy and Jennifer, stating, “I need to get Heidi home now.”

Before their protests got too aggressive, Jason had guided Harold out of the frat house and into the warm autumn night.

“Thank you, Jason. You’re a sweetheart,” Harold said, now happily walking hand-in-hand down the street along fraternity row, looking very much like young lovers.

Jason led Harold to a local coffee house, where they enjoyed some lattes, sitting at an outdoor table along the street. The student beer joints were already hopping, but Jason seemed happy to be with Harold at the coffee house. They shared some small talk for a while, generally agreeing that, as frat president, Willy was most unusual.

“It was his decision that you should be free to express yourself as a girl,” Jason said. “And he’s ready to protect you from the other boys.”

“I guessed he’s honest about that,” Harold said.

“We both realize Mega House has had a bad rep, and accepting you for whom you are would help in that regard.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for being a guinea pig, though.”

“Oh, I think you are, Heidi. Oh I hope you don’t mind that I call you that. You really look so much like a ‘Heidi.’”

Harold blushed and nodded an “OK.”

“You know what Jennifer said: About you being the Greek Princess?”

“Yes, I heard that. What is that?”

“Every April, the Greeks hold a Pompeii Party, and all the sororities nominate a girl to be the Princess of Pompeii. Usually, the girl of the greatest beauty, along with good grades and some extra activities wins.”

“Oh?” Harold blushed. “But, I’m a boy.”

“Not so as you can tell now. You fooled both Missy and Jennifer. And you’re easily as a pretty as any of the girls I know.”

Harold knew his natural femininity was apparent at first glance, and he smiled at the prospect of parading about as a girl in a beauty contest.

“You think so. That I pass totally as a girl?”

“Oh my God yes. But I was thinking something special.”

“What is that?”

“That Mega House should nominate you, as Heidi, to represent the frat house as the Princess of Pompeii.”

Harold was startled. Why would a frat house want one of their own members to compete as a girl?

“No way.”

“Think about it. Willy thinks it would be a great idea.”

Harold was stunned. This was all going too far.

While they were seated, a friend of Jason’s from his hometown stopped by the table, and said: “I’d like to be introduced to your lovely girl friend, Jason.”

“This is Heidi,” Jason said in a proud tone.

“Wow, I didn’t know you had such good taste, Jason. She’s a beauty.”

Jason took the occasion to caress Harold’s arm in front of his friend. “And, she’s all mine. Aren’t you honey?”

“Oh yes, Jason’s been so sweet to me,” Harold said, nestling closer to Jason, and then suddenly giving him a light kiss on his cheek.
“Nice meeting you, Heidi,” the other boy said. “If he treats you bad, please call me. I’m Kirk. I’m at the Delta house.”

“Get away Kirk,” Jason said in a good-natured dismissal of his friend, who was obviously impressed that Jason, as a chubby boy, had found such a pretty girl friend.

That night, as the stood before Mega House talking, Jason took Harold in his arms, and leaned down to kiss. Their kiss was long and sweet.

Harold entered the frat house holding hands with Jason, now playing the role of Heidi. The party had grown more drunken, and Jason quickly escorted Harold up to his room, leaving him there to contemplate his new life as “Heidi,” the Mega House Nominee for Princess of Pompeii.”

Harold knew his new role would not be easy. This evening might bring new challenges, since there was no way to lock the door, and he wasn’t too sure a Mega boy might not find his new femininity a lure for a sexual assault.

Harold did get a visitor later that night; it was nearly midnight and Harold roommate was still not home.

“You in there Harold,” said the voice as Harold was trying to fall asleep in the darkened room.

“Oh it’s you, Kevin. Yeah, I’m here. Come in.”

Kevin snapped on the light, blinding Harold for a minute and when he could see, Harold noticed Kevin was in an angry mood.

“What do you think you were doing tonight, Harold?” Kevin asked sternly.

“What do you mean?”

“I heard that you pranced around like a damned girl tonight, like a sissy girl.”

Harold looked at his friend, astonished at his sudden anger. Harold had felt a love for this boy, a strange new feeling in that he had never before felt such a love for any human being.

“Ah, yes. Willy suggested it as a way to challenge these bullies. And, I liked it. Even got invited to join a sorority.”

“I heard all that,” Kevin said, and after pause said in a sarcastic tone, “Heidi.”

“Are you mad at me, Kevin. I thought we were friends.”

“I thought so too. But now you’re going all girly on me.”

Harold suddenly felt his confusion turn to sorrow and tears began to flow. He felt he had loved this tall slender boy, but that love as now being rejected.

“I loved you, Harold. I loved you, so hard. I wanted you as Harold, my darling Harold. I don’t want you as Heidi.”

Harold got up off the bed and moved toward Kevin attempting to put his arms around the angered boy, only to have Kevin wave him off. “Stay away from me, you . . . you . . . girl. I want my Harold back, my lovely sweet Harold.”

“Harold, please. I’m so confused. I feel so natural as Heidi, as a girl.”

Kevin looked at Harold with a harsh stare. “You’re disgusting,” Kevin said, turning and bolting from the room. Harold thought he heard the other boy crying as he left.

Harold turned the room light off, closed his door and returned to his bed, assuming the fetal position he took whenever he was sad or moody. Harold had so enjoyed Kevin, finding him a warm and interesting friend; he had developed affection for the slender older boy, even wanting to be held in his arms and to feel their lips together in sweet kisses.

He thought Kevin felt the same toward him, a closeness that may even be true love. Then it dawned on Harold; Kevin wanted a lover, a male lover, and he wanted a lover who could comfort him in sex. Harold finally realized as he lay there in the dark: Kevin felt revulsion at having a female lover, and now, to Kevin, he, Harold, would always be “Heidi,” a girl.

Harold finally felt a comfort come over him: he now knew he was in all truth a girl, and with that truth he knew he would face many trials ahead. Yet, he knew the truth also brings overwhelming joy that comes with realizing one’s true identity.

“I am the Princess of Mega House,” he said aloud, but softly to himself, as he fell into a sweet sleep.

(To Be Continued)