Monday morning arrives all too quickly and my head is awash with conflicting emotions and thoughts…

I know that I will be going to the GIRLS’ bathroom today, which is, as all along, not that big an issue to ME. BUT, because the appeals court is taking on the wristband case, the lower court’s decision is being put on hold—meaning that I WILL have to wear the band. At this point, there is no choice—the school code has been changed forcing me into the girls’ bathroom based on my legal status as ‘female’. The state law forces me into the wristband based on my status as ‘transgender’. My only other option is to give in to Angi and go to private school (or home schooling, I guess would be another possibility, if not currently an option).

I sigh and feel like punching the big stuffed bear on my bed. I resist and get ready instead.

For some reason, I decide to go EXTRA-girly today. I push the school dress code limits to the max and Angi nearly chokes when I come down the stairs in five-inch stilettos, an ultra-short (well, by school standards) skirt, and a ton (well, again by school standards) of cleavage showing. There is a waft of the most flowery perfume I have that follows me.

She chokes back a giggle and asks tongue-in-cheek, “Is there something up I need to know about? Some interview, maybe…?”

I grin and shake my head, “No…I just felt like…THIS…,” I motion to my clothes with my hands, “I don’t know… It just seems…RIGHT, you know?”

Mummy says, “Well, no…” She laughs at the look on my face and continues, “But as long as you have a reason…”

I grab some coffee and a bagel and we are off to school. Mummy drives today—she is not quite ready to turn her baby over to my five-inch heels (or so SHE says…) I eat my bagel and sip my coffee on the way. When we get there, I flip down the visor and quickly add some lip gloss, take a deep breath, and accept a quick kiss on the cheek before getting out.

Cognizant of the VERY short skirt I have on, I am extra careful to swivel my legs out, closely held together, and look every bit the role of a really hot girl getting out of the Porsche in my towering heels…

I make my way inside and to the front office where I know Ronnie is waiting for me. I make my way past a smirking Mrs. DICK-enson to Ronnie’s office and knock. I enter when I hear the requisite, “Come on in!”

Ronnie smiles at me and exclaims, “My! Paige—you’re certainly pushing the limits, today. But, you look AWESOME, girl!”

I smile and thank her.

She continues, “Well, as I know YOU know, the court has put things on hold—and the school board has changed the rules around here… Soooooo….you DO have to use the proper bathroom and other facilities, now. Buuuut, you also have to wear this, I’m afraid…”

She holds out a beautiful bracelet—I’m stunned at it.

She giggles and says, “The law species the minimum requirements for the wristband. This clearly meets those requirements—it is green and conspicuous. The fact that it is not some cheap rubber thing that some stupid senator was envisioning is beside the point.”

I admire the oxidized (and thus green) copper band that is studded with emeralds and diamonds. I know the stones are fake, but it is still a beautiful piece of art.

She smiles and says, “Each one is unique—yours actually has REAL stones, so please be careful with it.”

I look at her in shock. I stutter, “R…r…real stones? Wait! Each one? Are you expecting more of…’us’…?”

She giggles and says, “Well, I’m sure there will be more transgendered kids that will come through here, eventually. But, no, that’s not what I meant. See? Mine is different than yours! Well, and mine doesn’t have REAL stones—I don’t have the benefactor that YOU do!”

I look at her wrist and notice for the first time that she is wearing a similar bracelet. I am stunned into complete silence.

She smiles and says, “You have quite the enterprising friends… You should hurry on to class—you don’t want to be late. Don’t forget to put on your bracelet, though. I’m afraid I must insist!”

I put the bracelet on, as if in a trance, and walk out the door and past Mrs. DICK-enson. I think I hear her mumble something about ‘sluts’, but I can’t be sure. I actually forget all about it as I notice several of the girls that walk past me wearing similar bracelets to mine—each one unique, though…

Then I nearly fall out when I notice that several GUYS are wearing bracelets, too. They are somewhat wider than the ones the girls are wearing, but have the same basic design elements.

I nearly run into Jackie and Paulette as I watch this spectacle—wide-eyed.

Jackie giggles and says, “HEY! Watch it, girl!” Then after I don’t respond, “Earth to Paige! Come in, Paige!”

I shake my head and blink. I ask, “What in the world is going on?”

Jackie laughs and says, “Well…if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right?”

I give her a blank look.

She giggles and says, “When I found out what was happening with the courts, I asked Mom for some details. It turns out that there are specific details that have to be met for the wristbands, according to the law, but there are loopholes big enough to drive the moon through. YOUR wristband has to be unique and distinguishable as one for transgendered individuals—a girl, in your case.”

I say, “OK, I’ll bite…go on…”

She nods and says, “Well, YOURS is distinguishable from any others in that it has REAL stones…and it is an 1/8 of an inch NARROWER than any other out there. Also, YOURS is the only one with emeralds… The GUYS’ bands are 3/16 of inch WIDER than any of the girls’—including YOURS…”

I am still lost and admit it, “OK, but why are people wearing these? I mean…”

Paulette chimes in, “Well, I have a friend that likes to make jewelry. Jackie’s Mom paid her for a whole box of these she was making for an upcoming art and jewelry show—123 in all… She had to make one especially for you really quickly—but, it was an overall win-win. We’re GIVING them away—just asking for a voluntary donation, if they’re so inclined. They went away like hotcakes—and we’ve made over $300.00 for any cause that you choose. Although, it has to be an official charity,” she giggles.

I am blown away, “Your Mom paid for these, Jackie? Really? Why?” I feel tears coming on and know I am not going to be able to stop them.

Jackie comes over and hugs me. She says, “You’re my FRIEND, dufus! Plus, she genuinely wants to right this wrong. My parents are PLENTY wealthy enough to send me to ANY of the private schools around. My Mom is a supporter of public education, though—so, she wants it right!”

I smile at her through the tears flooding my eyes and flowing down my cheek. I look at Paulette and she smiles brightly. She says, “I prefer to stay a mystery to ALL, Sweetie! That is my strength!” She giggles profusely.

I roll my eyes in fun and they both pull me to the girls’ room to fix my makeup.

We go in and it is nearly empty, since the bell is about to ring. The girls in there (I don’t know them, really) don’t give me a second look—other than at my ‘racoon’ eyes and quickly leave. I do hear them muttering, as the leave, something about it must have something to do with my boyfriend… It feels really good to be accepted at that level. Even if they likely DON’T realize it is ME they are talking about—I am just one of the girls with a girl’s problems...

I make it to class just before the second bell rings and barely make it to my seat. I notice four others in the classroom wearing a bracelet. Since there are about 1200 students in the school, there is only about one bracelet available for every ten students—PLUS, they will have to wear them at some steady frequency for this to have a real impact, but I can’t help getting a REALLY warm feeling in my heart at the level of friendship these girls have shown me.

The level of friendships that I am developing—or maybe better said, maintaining—becomes clear at lunch. I make my way to the cafeteria and run into Terry, Joey, and Gavin. Terry and Joey are both wearing bracelets and Gavin looks a little down.

He explains, “They were out of bands by the time I got to the box, so I had to add my name to the waitlist.”

I give him a look that clearly conveys my confusion.

Terry says, “There was such a high demand for the bands—especially after people found out what they are REALLY for—that there is a list with another over 300 names on it. Brenda, Paulette’s friend is going to be a very busy girl for the next couple of weeks—not to mention make a hefty profit. She has even agreed to give ten percent of her overall proceeds to your pot. Have you decided who to give the money to, yet? I hear there are people going back and donating even more!”

At that moment, Jackie comes over and says, “Yes, that’s true. We’re at over $600.00, with another over $200.00 pledged.”

Joey says, “Be careful, though guys. There IS a faction at school that is REALLY unhappy about this—while we have diluted the target on PAIGE’S back…we have painted one on our own. We’re going to have to be vigilant, OK?”

I pale and say, “You guys shouldn’t have done that—you need to take them off!”

I see a resounding shaking of the heads. Gavin says, “Sorry, Paige—this isn’t just about YOU! This community needs to get into the twenty-first century.” He blushes and says, “You may have been the catalyst, but there is much more at stake here than you know…”

Before I can get any more out of him, lunch is over and we have to go back to class. I make it clear, though, that this discussion is not over.

I stand in front of the girls’ locker room door after school and nervously shift my feet. It is time for the first cheerleading practice and after this whole day of surprises, I am not sure what to expect now.

I jump when I hear, “You just going to stand there and block the door or are you going in?” The serious tone dissolves into a giggle as I turn around and see Chrissy coming up behind me.

I sigh and say, “I guess I’m going in. I’m just not sure what to expect.”

Chrissy smiles a genuine smile and says, “I think you’ll be OK.” She holds up her arm to show me the green copper band on her arm.

I shake my head in wonderment and follow her in. Flo, Penelope, and the others are getting ready and neither blink an eye at me coming in. I go to the locker that now has my name on it and start getting ready. I am not at all self-conscious about the fact that I am in a room of girls getting ready—after all, it is no different at camp. I AM surprised that they don’t seem to care, though.

Finally, Flo, sensing my insecurity, says, “Paige. Relax—we don’t care. You have never given any of us the sense that you’re anything but a girl.”

I sigh and nod my head. I say, “Thanks, Flo. It…it…”

Penelope says, “Girls, go on out and start warming up. I want to speak to Paige alone a minute. Ginny, you’re in charge—get them whipped into shape!”

The girls quickly file out and I hear Ginny yelling at them, like some drill sergeant, to get warmed up.

Penelope rolls her eyes and says, “I swear that girl needs to join the army!”

I giggle nervously.

Penelope looks at me and says, “Paige, I want you to know some things—this stays between us girls, though—as in between US, OK?”

Surprised, I nod.

She continues, “Paulette tells me you’re in a serious and committed relationship with another girl. Is that true?”

I simply nod. She nods back thoughtfully. Finally, after a few seconds, she seems to steel her resolve and says, “OK, that helps. I know I have the reputation of being a bitch—a real mean girl. That is really a sham—a façade to hide the real me. I don’t know how long you have known that you’re a girl, but…I have known that I’m gay for quite some time. It’s something that I’m certainly NOT ashamed of, but something that I’m sure you understand I can’t really let out in this environment. Or, at least I thought so…”

I quietly listen.

She continues, “When you came in, I was—correctly, I have to say—afraid that it would shine an unwanted light on the LGBT community here at school. There has historically been a tenuous ‘truce’—sort of like used to be in the military—of don’t ask, don’t tell…”

I nod, but remain silent.

She looks at me and says, “Now, I have to say, I’m STILL scared of how this will all turn out—but, I think it’s a GOOD thing it’s finally being forced out into the open…”

I blink…and wait for the other shoe to drop.

She smiles and says, “I know you think that I was giving you a raw deal at try-outs. It’s true—I WAS discriminating against you because you’re TG. It had nothing to do with me being bigoted, though—I simply didn’t want the spotlight on the team.”

I nod slowly.

She continues, “Well, and honestly, I was a little jealous at the attention my girlfriend was giving you. She was finally able to convince me that there was nothing to worry about and that you needed to be a part of this team. I had a reputation to uphold, though—so, I put you on as reserve. I will have to say, you really CAN dance, girl!”

Then it hits me. I look at her and ask, “You mean, you and…”

She laughs and says, “Yes, Paulette and I have been together since our sophomore year. Our plan was to keep it quiet until after senior year; then graduate and lead our life together as it should be. That’s why I ask you to keep this to yourself, at least for now. VERY few people REALLY know—although, I’m sure many more suspect.”

“Well, THAT explains a LOT,” I giggle. I go over and give her a hug and say, “Your secret is safe with me!”

She hugs me back and says, “OK, enough of this mushy stuff—get out there and get warmed up!”

I run and see Paulette on the sidelines; she just gives me a conspiratory wink.

I get up, extremely sore from last night’s practice, and get myself ready for another day. I can’t help but wonder if there can be anything that could top yesterday’s surprises. I guess I shouldn’t have thrown that out to the universe—it was not a challenge, though, I promise!

I get out of Mummy’s Porsche and click up the front steps. I’m not AS close to the limits of the rules today, but I AM certainly dressed as the girly-girl I am now labeled. Frenchie comes up the steps from the other side at the same time I do.

She greets me with a hug and we walk in together. Then I notice it—there is a strange…tension…in the air. I look at Frenchie and it is clear that she senses it, too.

Jackie comes over and hugs us. She says, “Be careful, girls. It seems there is a new wristband that’s becoming popular here at school—the ‘purist’ band. If you see someone sporting a red band, be careful. Paige, Miss Ferguson wants to see us in an hour.”

I look around and see a smattering of red bands—red copper with red stones. I later find out that the boys have rubies and the girls have garnets.

Jackie and I go to the front office at the allotted time and I can’t help but notice the red band on Mrs. DICK-enson’s wrist. She glowers at us and tells us to take a seat.

After several minutes, a group of boys and girls, led by Gerald Graham comes out of Ronnie’s office. They all have the new red bands.

Ronnie motions us in and surprises me by saying, “Hi girls, please have a seat. We’re waiting on a few other people.” I can’t help but notice the green band on her desk and not on her arm.

After a few minutes, Felix, Butch, Terry, Joey, and Gavin filter in—then Penelope and Paulette. My jaw drops. It hits the floor when Momma, Mummy, and Sheila walk in with another woman that I don’t know—until Jackie whispers in my ear that it is her Mom.

Ronnie has us all sit at the big conference table and calls the impromptu meeting to order.

She says, “Good morning, everyone. I want to thank all of you for coming in. This is a serious matter, that I’m afraid is further complicating things here at school and now has the police involved. They are investigating whether the bands constitute ‘gang’ insignia. Until that has been cleared up, I’m not going to put a stop to the bands—because I can’t stop one side without stopping the other.”

Sheila and Mrs. O’Dell both nod their heads.

Ronnie continues, “So,” she looks at Felix and Butch, “I’m going to ask you two to continue keeping an eye out on Paige. At least it’s not bathroom duty, for now. The rest of you have volunteered in other ways…”

Terry speaks up, “Yes, Miss Ferguson. Joey, Gavin and I will be more eyes and ears and lookouts. We can’t be the physical sort of lookout like Felix and Butch, but we CAN be supportive in other ways.”

Ronnie nods and Penelope speaks up, “Paulette and I have talked this over. It’s not fair that Paige bear this completely on her own. We’re going to publicly acknowledge our relationship.”

I gasp and Paulette reaches over and grabs my hand.

Penelope continues, “Furthermore, we had a quick meeting with the rest of the cheer squad—sorry, Paige, but you couldn’t be involved.” I nod and she continues, “There was a unanimous decision that Paige is one of us and she is firmly behind the Pom-Pom fortress. I may not have that much sway in that regard after I go public, but trust me when I say the rest do. I guess we will both benefit from that fortress together, Paige.”

I fight the tears and nod with a trembling lip.

Sheila speaks up, “Grace and I,” she looks at Jackie’s Mom and continues, “have been talking. She is clearly more the expert in these matters than I, but we’re pooling resources and we have the legal part of this covered—I’m SURE this will end up in court. The problem is that there will be appeals, no matter who wins. This could ultimately end up in front of the Supreme Court. I can’t even guarantee that this will be resolved by the time PAIGE graduates.”

Mrs. O’Dell nods and looks at Penelope and Paulette and asks, “Are you sure you want to do this? It is a near impossibility that this will be resolved this year—and you have successfully stayed under the radar, so far.”

Paulette grabs Penelope’s hand and says, “Yes, Mrs. O’Dell. We’re sure.”

She nods her head and says, “OK. Everyone in this room is very brave. Let’s make sure that everyone stays safe. By the way, I’m sure that everyone has noticed that Ms. Ferguson isn’t wearing her band. Regardless of her personal beliefs, she can’t take sides in this—officially—by wearing a band. It is, however, clear that she is on the side of justice, so thank you, Ms. Ferguson!”

Ronnie blushes as loud applause and cheers erupt around the room—and the meeting adjourns.

The adults all stay behind for a little more talk and the group of us students file out. Mrs. DICK-enson glares at us all again as we open the door to the hall. We file out, talking amongst ourselves, and walk right up on a large wall of red-banded students that is clearly blocking our way.