As the school year continues, Harold's femininity becomes more apparent and he finds comfort in being 'Heidi.' Harold's confusion grows as he faces the loss of his first friend and his mother's disappointment if he continues his journey into girlhood. Yet, being a girl seems to come naturally. He ponders his future.

The Girl in the Frat House — Part Four

By Katherine Day
(Copyright 2008 by Katherine Anne Day)

Chapter Seven

Henry “Willy” Williamston III, the fraternity president, had asked Harold if he’d mind becoming part of the committee that was planning the reception for the alumni of the frat house for homecoming weekend.

“I’m kinda busy, Willy,” Harold replied, using that as an excuse.

While Harold was busy with his schooling and his work in the costume crew of the University Players, he really was still feeling shy and tentative among many of the brothers, some of whom still seemed to view him as a “sissy” or “girl” unfit to be a Mega. Only the support of Willy and others like his friend Jason and roommate Will Hampton was keeping him from being bullied and harassed.

“I know you are,” Willy said, “But, you always seem to have some good ideas, and you’re the most artistic brother we got. Please, help me on this, Harold.”

“I don’t know.”

“Jason has agreed to work on this too. You and he will well work together, I know.”

Willy’s trust in him, Harold felt, was reason enough to agree to help out. Willy had also assured him that working on the committee might gain him more acceptance from among the brothers. The committee work had involved several planning meetings, and an agreement to help clean up the House , set up decorations, arrange for the refreshments and food and a brief program with some home-grown entertainment thrown in.

Jason, it turned out, was the chair of the committee, and was proving to be a most responsible, hard-working leader for the group. Four others were original members of the committee, and Harold hardly knew them. They were, like Harold, boys that were usually in the background, and didn’t seem to be the “party boys” of the house. It seemed to Harold that Willy was exhibiting some crucial leadership here, trying to involve boys that were “outsiders” to help them become feel more accepted as Mega brothers.

As a result, the entire group seemed to accept their chore of planning the reception with great enthusiasm, developing a camaraderie that comes out of working on a difficult chore. One late addition to the group was Kevin, the upper classman for whom Harold had developed a strong attraction, his first experience of wanting to kiss and embrace another boy. Kevin volunteered once he saw the group begin to work, and Harold felt he had done so to find more excuses to be close to Harold.

Kevin had rejected Harold for a while after Harold had dressed so convincingly as a girl for the frat house party several weeks back; now that Harold had seemed to be acting with more masculine behaviors, Kevin had reopened their friendship.

Jason had decided that each boy would be given the responsibility for planning and developing a certain part of the reception. “Why don’t you work on the program, Harold?” Jason had suggested. “You’ll plan out who should speak, what kind of a theme we should have and maybe some brief entertainment.”

“I guess I can do that,” he agreed tentatively.

“I’ll help him on that committee,” Kevin volunteered.

Harold blushed when he heard Kevin volunteer, and he hoped no one noticed. It meant he and Kevin would be together more often now, a prospect that he both welcomed and feared. He dreamed of being smothered in the slender, sinewy arms of the tall, lanky blonde Kevin, their lips meeting in passionate kisses and sweet words of love passing their lips. Harold was puzzled by his desire to be with this gangly boy. Until meeting Kevin, Harold had never even wondered about kissing or hugging another boy, but his attraction to Kevin was so compelling.

The two meet in Harold’s room several times to plan the events, with Kevin bringing a chair next to Harold as they sat at Harold’s desk working on the program. Their thighs met, and Kevin put his arm around Harold’s shoulders, as they worked, his hand lightly caressing Harold slender arm. Harold could smell the stale sweat on the older boy’s tee shirt, but he found the scent strangely alluring. They kissed only briefly, once during their planning meetings, since they were afraid someone might pop in on them.

“I love you, Harold,” Kevin whispered as they were nearing the end of their last meeting. His fingers were walking up Harold’s slender, white bare arm, making Harold penis harden.

It was so exciting to be admired, Harold felt, to hear the words, “I love you.” He didn’t respond, since he had never heard the words “I love you” directed toward him, except from his mother. He looked at the uneven, thin hatch of Kevin’s light beard, and struggled to resist kissing him.

“You’re so pretty, Harold as a boy,” Kevin continued. “I want us to be friends.”

“I do, too.”

“But, honey, you’re not a girl: you’re a boy. Please remember that Harold.”

Their conversation had been carried on in whispers, and it ended abruptly as they heard steps in the hallway and by the time Harold’s roommate, Will Hampton, entered, they had separated. Harold felt he was flushed, and hoped Will had not noticed.

“Hey Harold, Kevin,” Will said cheerfully. “Got the program all set?”

“Yeh, we do, Will,” Kevin answered with a devilish grin. “You’re going to dressed as a baby, signifying the Mega, class of 2027.”

“What?” Will exploded.

Kevin responded with a loud laugh and Harold followed suit.

“Damn, you two,” Will said, joining in the fun. “Just for that, I think Harold should dress as ‘Heidi’ and be Miss Homecoming.”

“No way,” said Kevin firmly, and quickly, before Harold could respond.

“I don’t think so,” Harold added, even though deep down he liked the idea. With his mother and her friend and all the alumni, however, that clearly was a bad idea, and Harold could see that Will was kidding.

“Harold should never dress as a girl again,” Kevin added, his demeanor suddenly getting serious.

“Oh don’t worry, Kevin,” Harold said, wanting to put his friend at ease. He wasn’t going to dress as a girl, at least for the weekend.

Harold then explained the program, but said he needed help in putting together a male quartet to sing for the group. Will joined the two boys in seeing whom to nominate for the event, and the committee meeting, such as it was, ended.

On Saturday of Homecoming weekend, Harold and Grace joined his mother and her new boy friend for brunch at their hotel. Harold wore jeans and a Huskies Sweatshirt for the brunch. The brunch was prelude to attending the homecoming game, where Harold and Grace would sit in the student section and his mother and Bill would sit in a special section for parents.

Grace looked so cute that morning; until this weekend, Grace had rarely worn anything but jeans and a sweatshirt over a tee shirt; she wore old tennis shoes and covered her brown hair with a scarf, with some flowing out the back. She wore no makeup, and the whole effect was that of a sloppy, almost chubby young woman. Harold saw before him as he picked her up at her dormitory the same freckled-faced girl with her laughing eyes, but now she appeared as a lovely college girl. Her hair had been combed straight back, and secured with a pink headband; she wore tapered blue slacks and a cardinal colored sweater with a Northern Illinois Huskie Logo over a light blue camisole.

“You’re so lovely this morning, Grace,” his mother told her as they were seated at the hotel’s restaurant.

“Thank you, Mrs. Cochran. Rachel helped me dress. I borrowed the sweater from my roommate,” she explained.

“You make a cute couple,” commented Bill, his mother’s friend.

Harold looked at Grace, who blushed openly, and felt that he, too, must be blushing. He was so pleased to see Grace looking so lovely and happy. Grace had told him in their long talks how she had never dated in high school and had always considered herself an ugly duckling. Her mother had criticized her often for never dressing up and being too fat.

*****

On Friday night, after their dinner with Harold’s mother and her friend, Harold and Grace had spent more than an hour in conversation which soon progressed to tentative caresses and light kisses. Both Harold and Grace had admitted stuff to each other they had never before told others.

“I was kinda fat,” she admitted to Harold in their talk the other night. “I still am.”

She did tend to have a heavy waist and the slight beginning of a double chin; her legs were somewhat heavy. Nonetheless, Harold felt she was a very attractive girl.

“I worked at a restaurant on the Interstate during my last year, and had to wear skirts that I thought were too short,” she had told Harold.

“I think you’d look so cute, dressed as a peasant girl, with a colorful full print skirt and a nice white or pink blouse, with a scooped bodice and puffed short sleeves,” Harold told her.

“I like that Harold.”

“I’d love to design that for you, and even create it for you, like I did for Rachel.”

“Would you?” she asked, and kissing him lightly when he nodded “yes.”

She went on to tell him she never was asked for a date in high school, but that in her restaurant job she was always given teasing, sometimes lewd or suggestive, remarks from truckdrivers and other customers. The restaurant manager, a middle-aged guy with a potbelly, hit on her constantly until she threatened to go to complain to the state.

“He knew if he fired me, I’d squeal sexual harassment,” she explained. “Besides, I was a good waitress and the customers liked me.”

“Oh, that must have been awful for you,” Harold responded.

“It wasn’t so bad,” she smiled. “I must admit I liked being noticed as a sex object.”

“Grace, I think you are very attractive,” Harold said, cautiously avoiding the word “sexy.” His shyness with girls was still ruling his actions.

“I never dated in high school, either,” he told her that night.

“And you’re so handsome, Harold.”

“Not really, I always felt I wasn’t much of a boy, that girls wanted football players, not the ‘costume girl’ from the play.”

“I do, Harold, I do,” she said, kissing him, their lips meeting with Grace pressing hard and passionately in the dormitory lounge.

Harold had never kissed a girl before, except his mother and aunts and cousins. His tiny penis hardened as they kissed and he became all consumed with the passion, losing all sense of place and time. His hands caressed her soft, white arms as they kissed, and she cuddled him tightly to her ample breasts.

“Oh we better be careful,” she finally said, breaking off the embrace.

Harold left the dormitory that night in the same funk he had felt weeks earlier when he kissed and cuddled with Kevin.

*****
That morning in the restaurant, the conversation eventually went to the coming football game. Grace fortunately knew more about the Huskies football fortunes than Harold did, since he had not attended any games that year. He enjoyed the quiet of the fraternity house then, when all the brothers were at the game, before they returned to empty beer kegs for the rest of the day.

The game itself was played in bright November sunshine, which bathed the fans across the field in bright sunshine; Harold and Grace sat tight against each other, with Grace telling Harold about the key players from Northern Iowa University, the opponents for the game. Harold knew nothing about the game, but his recent exploits in the co-ed touch football game were fresh in his memory and he tended to watch the receivers; he particularly liked a small, wiry player on the opponent’s team, who seemed to get free to catch passes regularly and then use his speed and craftiness to elude the Huskies’ tacklers.

“That’s Eric Swinton, he’s their all-conference wide receiver,” Grace said.

“He looks small, almost small as me,” Harold said, yelling into Grace’s ear, as the crowd roared as a Husky defender intercepted a pass.

She smiled: “About the same height. You thinking of going out for football, now?”

“Only if there’s a girls’ team for me,” he giggled. They both laughed.

As expected, the Huskies lost again, but not without putting up an heroic rally in the 4th Quarter. Their record had dropped to 3 wins and 7 losses. “But most of our players will be back next year,” Grace said. “We’ll do better then.”

“How do you know so much, Grace?” his mother asked later.

“I had two brothers and a dad, and we always played football together. Guess I was more of a tomboy.”

“Well, you’re very lovely now, honey,” Bill said.

*****

After the game, they all made their way to the fraternity house for the reception. The house was already jammed and the beer was flowing freely when they entered. His mother suddenly was engulfed by many of her late husband’s friends, and drifted away, leaving Harold and Grace together with Bill Forster, his mother’s new boy friend.

“Guess I’m a bachelor again,” he said, with a laugh.

Grace put her hand on his arm and directed him and Harold to the dining room. “Let’s see what they’re set up in here.”

Other committees had set up easels with photos of past Mega House events, plus one easel with pictures from this year’s fraternity.

“Oh look here,” said Grace, “Here’s a group picture of all the fraternity this year.”

She directed them to an easel showing a colored large 9 x12 photo of the fraternity brothers gathered on the front steps; also on the easel were other candid photos of activities.

“Oh, there’s Harold,” Grace said, pointing to him sitting in the front row with two other of the shorter boys in the house.

“I didn’t know they were going to do this,” Harold said.

“Cute,” Bill said. “And what’s this?”

He pointed to a picture showing Harold, dressed as Heidi on the night of the party walking down the stairwell on the arm of Jason. The caption read: “Jason and Heidi, the prettiest couple of the night.”

Harold wanted to rip the picture off the easel; he didn’t want his mother to see it since she’d surely recognize the girl as her son. Who would do this? He wondered.

“She’s a lovely girl,” Bill said. “And here’s another picture of her.”

His finger was aimed at still another photo of Heidi, now talking with two girls visiting from the sorority. A caption read: “One of these is a Mega brother. Can you tell which one?”

“What’s going on here?” Harold heard his mother’s voice.

“Just looking at the pictures, dear,” Bill said.

“I heard you admiring one of the girls here,” she said. “I thought I better get over and tak you away.”

“Look here,” he said.

Harold could have killed Bill for drawing his mother’s attention to the photos. They were all now trying to identify which of the three girls in the second photo was the “mega brother.”

“They all look like girls to me,” Bill said.

His mother examined both of the photos, suddenly turning on Harold. “You and I have to talk. Privately. Now. Where can we go?”

He could see anger in her eyes, and he led her upstairs and into his room, closing the door. He sat on his bed and beckoned her to sit in his desk chair. She stood, however.

“I thought you’d lose that girly stuff, but my God, you’re acting more and more feminine,” she said.

Harold said nothing, and merely looked down at the floor.

“And then to dress as a girl for the party. My God. Have you no respect for me? For yourself? For the memory of your father?”

“Mom, I’m sorry,” was all he could get out of his mouth before he started to cry, sobs becoming all-consuming.

“What’s going on here? I thought you might become a man here.” Her voice was strong and firm and demanding.

“I don’t know,” he said, words coming in between sobs.

He turned to lie on his bed, in the fetal position, as his crying continued. He wanted everyone to go away now, to leave him alone. He had shamed his mother, the only person in the world who loved him.

“I can’t help it mommy,” he said, using the words a girl might use. “I feel so happy being . . . well . . . being like a girl, I guess.”

“But, you’re a boy soon to be a man,” she said. “You have a lovely girl friend. Grace is so sweet and I can see she loves you.”

“Oh mommy, we’re just friends. I’ve never had a girl friend, you know that.”

His sobs continued, and his mother sat on the bed, leaning over to hug him, and wipe his eyes.

“My darling, I know you’re such a sweet son, and I love you so much.”

“I know mommy, and I hate to disappoint you.”

His crying stopped and the two sat and talked for another 10 minutes. Harold explained that he had found acceptance in the fraternity by playing up his femininity, by his fending off some bullies and by his play-acting as “Heidi” at the frat party. He said he had support from the president of the fraternity, plus other boys like Jason and Will. In a sense, he had become sort of a mascot for the frat house, he told her.

“That’s nice,” she said. “But what’s your future to be?”

“I don’t know, mommy, but I feel more like a girl than a guy.”

“Well, we can’t resolve this now. Dry your tears and let’s go down and enjoy the party. Bill and Grace will be wondering what happened to us.”

“Mommy, I’m so sorry I’m not the son you and dad wanted. I feel so awful.” He continued to sob, soothed only by his mother’s gentle rubbing of his shoulder and arm.

“No darling, you’re a beautiful child. You really are, so talented and so kind to other people. You deserve only the best for yourself.”

His crying soon ended, and he got up off the bed, and his mother hugged him. She was short and slight, and his nose was buried into her graying, light brown hair; her hair smelled fresh to him. He always liked that his mother smelled of soap and subtle sweet perfumes.

“You’re so skinny, darling,” she said to him. “But then I guess you take after me.”

They kissed, just light brushes of their lips, but affectionate touches, and Harold realized how deeply his mother loved him. That made his worry grow, realizing that his girlish behaviors might break her heart.

“Let’s talk about this when you get home for Christmas vacation,” his mother said. “We’ll have some time to examine the subject more.”

“Oh mommy,” he said, hugging her more tightly now. “I love you.”

When they returned to the reception, Willy, the frat president, made a point of reintroducing himself to Harold’s mother.

“I just wanted to tell you how happy we are that Harold has joined our fraternity,” he said.

“Really, Mr. Williamston,” his mother replied, a bit testily.

“Yes, Mrs. Cochran, really. Your son has already shown leadership here.”

His mother looked at the young man, quizzically.

“When he was harassed by some of the boys, he took control of the situation, and then he played along with it, by dressing up,” the president continued.

“I know I saw that, and I was afraid he was going to be hurt by that,” his mother said.

“Well, some of us made sure the rest of the brothers knew how special he was, Mrs. Cochran. And, he agreed to take leadership of planning tonight’s program. He’s really special, ma’am.”

“Willy,” she said. “Thank you. I think he’s special, too, but I do worry about this girl dressup stuff.”

“Well, if it’s any comfort, as long as I’m here, Harold’s going to be welcome and safe. And, I hope he’ll be happy, too.”

His mother smiled, and left to join Bill, Grace and Harold, who seemed to be enjoying their conversation. The reception turned out to be a great success and the program went well with lots of cheering and laughter. Even the rowdiest of the frat boys were on their good behavior and kept their drinking to a minimum.

*****
When the festivities ended, Harold mother and Bill took Grace and Harold to a campus bar and grill for a light supper. The conversation went easily, with Bill telling the group about Harold’s father.

“You know, Harold, your mother tells me you’re very special to her, and I can see why she feels that way. You’re very special person, and you’re really more like your dad than you might think.”

“I can’t see how,” Harold said. “I am hardly athletic like he was.”

“No, but you have the same sensitivity that he had. Honey,” his mother said.

“Yes, Harold, he was a very kind man, always wanted to be sure he was fair to everyone, Bill continued. “On the football field, he played hard, but fair, and even opposing players respected him. He never trash-talked.”

“And, like you,” his mother said. “He had an artistic side to himself. He loved theater and wanted some day to act or write plays.”

“My dad?” Harold asked in astonishment.

“Oh yes, Harold,” Bill said. “He was an unusual person, and he helped to integrate the Mega House. When he was House President he persuaded all of us to welcome the first black into the house.”

“And, honey, he would have wanted you to be happy in whatever you did,” his mother said.

By now, Grace had taken Harold’s tiny hand and held it hard against her own thigh, slowly caressing it with her finger. She had a soft pudgy hand, and Harold enjoyed the warmth he felt.

*****
It was an unusually warm night for November and Harold walked Grace back to her dorm, holding hands and kicking loose leaves. There was a mist in the air, and mixed smell of auto fumes and musky leaves gave out a sweetness that was nearly intoxicating.

“Your mom and her friend are so nice,” Grace said as they continued down Illinois Avenue to her dorm, dodging others, but never leaving go of each other’s hands.

Harold realized that he and Grace shared an innocence are among college students; neither had ever had a romantic relationship before and they didn’t quite know how to handle it.

“I like Bill a lot,” Harold replied. “I hope he and mom stay friends.”

“Do you think they should marry?” Grace asked.

“Oh I don’t know. Mom and I are so close, and he might come between us, but she’s so happy with him.”

“He likes you, too, Harold,” Grace said. “Besides her happiness is important.”

“I know. I shouldn’t be selfish.”

“You aren’t, Harold,” she said as they crossed 2nd Avenue, heading toward her dorm.

They were able to find the same quiet corner of the dorm lounge where they sat the previous night, sitting next to each other, holding hands.

“Harold, you’re the first really best friend I ever had,” Grace finally said after they had sat in silence.

“I think I can say the same, Grace.”

“I hope you don’t mind what I say now, but I think of you as a girl friend, like you and I are girl friends, you know?”

Harold was silent, and just squeezed her hand a bit more firmly.

“I like us as girl friends, too,” he said. “I like being Heidi.”

“I know you do. You’re so . . . oh, what shall I say? . . . girly.”

They both laughed. “I really love working on costumes, sewing, and designing dresses,” he said. “I often try them on, just see how they look, and I look pretty in them, too.”

“I know you look so much like a girl; I loved the pictures of you from that fraternity party. You were the prettiest girl in those pictures.”

“Not really.”

“Yes, you were. I’m really jealous; you’re so much more pretty than me.”

“Grace, you’re very lovely girl.”

“You’re just saying that, but I love you saying it.” She gave him a quick kiss on his lips.

They talked for a bit, did some awkward hugging and kissing. She finally moved away from him.

“Harold, it feels funny being with you; I keep thinking of you as a girl, and it doesn’t seem right for us to be doing this, you know, kissing and hugging like boy-girl lovers.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, moving away, shocked at what she was saying.

“But I want you always as my closest friend,” Grace added, tears in her eyes.

“We will be,” he said.

“I tried so hard to think of you as my boy friend, but I see you only as Heidi, my dear sweet friend, Heidi.”

“Oh Grace, think of me as Heidi. I do most of the time. I think I’m Heidi.”

She giggled, and returned close to him, hugging him now, but the hug now was different. They were hugging as girl friends; there would be no pretense that theirs was a boy-girl love affair.

“I like being with Heidi so much,” Grace said. “She’s so much fun and so pretty.”

They began giggling as they talked, discussing how Rachel’s date with Jason was going; the couple had gone to the Harvest Dance together. They ended the night, pledging to be girl friends the rest of their lives. Harold (now feeling so much like Heidi) almost skipped back to the frat house that night. It had been a wonderful weekend, after all.

Chapter Eight

The University Players were to perform Romeo and Juliet on the first weekend of December, and dress rehearsals began in earnest on the Monday after Thanksgiving weekend. Harold had stayed at school over the holiday, spending most of his time with the rest of the costume crew finishing up the outfits for the play.

The frat house was largely empty and he and Grace enjoyed the Thanksgiving Day meal that the frat house cook put together for the handful of boys who stayed on campus, plus a few of their friends as guests. Harold asked Grace to join him.

After the meal they called his mother, and the two of them talked to her for about half an hour. She said she was so happy Harold had found a nice friend in Grace, and tried, without much luck, to learn whether they had been intimate.

“Mother, we’re just friends,” Harold said.

“I know, Harold, but Grace is so nice, so smart and so attractive,” she said.

Harold had opened the phone so that Grace, holding her head next to his, could hear the conversation.

“Yes, mother, she is very pretty,” he said, and Grace mouthed “liar” to him.

They both start giggling. “What’s so funny, Harold?” she asked.

“Oh I’m tickling him, Mrs. Cochran,” Grace quickly interjected.

“Well it sounds like you two are having fun.”

After they hung up, they started laughing almost uncontrollably.

“She wants me to be your boy friend, Grace.”

“I know, but you’re really my girl friend.”

*****

The rest of the weekend was spent at the costume shop. Rachel and the others were there as well, and they worked steadily, but with good collaboration. It was acknowledged by all of them to leave the key decisions on costumes up to Harold; he had demonstrated his skill and knowledge of seamstress work and design.

“You really have feel for this, Heidi,” the Daisy Ann Sweet, the lead costume girl, said, using his girl’s name as everyone in the theater group was doing. “I appreciate you doing so much.”

“I love doing it,” he said honestly. “I was afraid, Daisy, that I might be stepping on your toes, being too much of a self-promoter.”

“Oh no, honey,” Daisy said, with a smile. “You’re doing just fine. You’re really so artistic. I thank you for being willing to work so hard.”

He was the same size as both the actresses playing Juliet and her nurse, two of the lead female parts. Several times during the weekend, he tried on the costumes, having the other girls mark up the materials where corrections were needed.

“You oughta be Juliet,” the Daisy said. “You look just like she would at 14.”

“Yeh, Carla is really too old to play Juliet,” Rachel said. “I think Heidi’s prettier anyway.”

Harold blushed, but he loved the idea. The dress he had created for Juliet was made of white, sheer material, layered with lace overlays; underneath, Juliet would wear a camisole; her shoulders were to be fully covered, with puffed, short sleeves. A medium sized bow was tied at the top of her bodice.

“That has such an airy, fresh look,” commented Daisy.

Late Saturday afternoon, when he had finally completed the final work on Juliet’s dress, he put it on, with the assistance of Rachel. When everything was tied and fastened, he put on Juliet’s silver slippers and wrapped a light scarf, made of the same material, over his head.

“Oh my God,” Rachel said. “You’re absolutely divine. You’re all Juliet. Girls, come here.”

She summoned the others to look and they all entered, dumbstruck at the young beautiful girl standing before them. Harold rewarded them was a quick twirl about the room, prancing lightly on his feet, ending before the full length mirror, and finding himself pleased with what he saw.

“I feel just like Juliet,” he said.

“You should. You may be the prettiest Juliet ever,” agreed Rachel and the others agreed.

Harold felt inspired by their comments and what he saw in the mirror. He so desired now to play the part of Juliet.

“I think I’ll read a few lines now,” he said picking up a copy of the play that was lying on the cutting table. “Grab that other script, Rachel, and read with me. You can be my nurse.”

He directed them to Act 3, Scene 2, where Juliet is commenting on her love for Romeo. He began halfway into Juliet’s speech, reading in a soft, but stage-commanding tone; his voice took on a wispy, breathless eagerness, and his own naturally high register of a voice made it sound convincingly girlish, almost fitting for a love-struck 14-year-old girl.

“Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night,
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold,
Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child that hath new robes
And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,
And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks
But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.”

When he finished, the girls clapped. And, before Rachel could begin saying the nurse’s lines, there was a loud clap of hands from the door of the costume shop. It stopped them in their tracks.

“That was lovely, dear girl.” The words came from Milton Kastner, the Theater Group’s director. Kastner was the epitome of a professional theatrical director, complete with long, flowing hair, exaggerated arm movements and an affected voice. Nonetheless, he was a recognized genius, with a worldwide recognition, and commanded respect.

Harold blushed, and the others all looked at the director, who stood there with a smile on his face.

“You captured the excitement of a young girl in love, young lady,” Kastner said to Harold. “I’ve been trying to get the lead to carry that tone, and you do it so naturally, it seems. You even look 14 years old in that dress.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harold said. “I’m sorry. We were just trying the dress on to make sure it would be ok. I guess I got carried away and wanted to say the words of Juliet, too.”

“Oh that’s fine,” Kastner said. “I like my actors to be enthused, and also the costume girls and stage crews. You’re Heidi, right?”

“Yes, they call me that,” Harold fudged, hearing a bit of tittering from Rachel.

“Well, Heidi, can you read the rest of the scene for me, and that young lady, I guess, will read the nurse’s parts,” Kastner said, pointing to Rachel. “Don’t get too excited now, dear, just do what you were doing before.”

Harold’s heart began to pump harder; he felt so panic-stricken. How could he perform in front of this great director? He looked at Rachel, and she nodded in encouragement.

“Start with the next line, Heidi” Kastner said.

Harold read them, his voice almost in a screech now, which he tried to tone down. He had to continue to sound like a girl, and was so afraid his voice would betray his masculinity.

“Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords
That Romeo bid thee fetch?”

“No, no, no,” Kastner said, a bit impatiently. “Say it like you were before I got here. Forget I’m here.”

Harold repeated the lines, more softly now, in the same breathless, eagerness he showed in the earlier recitation.

“Good, good,” Kastner said, encouragingly. “Now, nurse, do your lines.”

Harold soon was in the throes of the play. He had read the tragic story of teen lovers, Romeo and Juliet, several times, in hopes of getting in a mood to design an appropriate dress. He loved the part of Juliet, and yearned in a way to become a pretty teen girl in love, but of course, without the tragic ending. He was fearful that the director might soon notice that the young lady before him was really a guy.

“Oh my, that was marvelous, Heidi,” Kastner said when they finished, with applause from others following. “And, you, nurse, said those well, too.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harold said. “I guess this dress is fine then?”

“Oh my yes, it so captures the sweetness and light of a girl in love,” Kastner said.

Kastner beckoned Harold to come out into the hallway with him, away from the others. “You told me the other day that you did some acting, right Heidi?” he asked.

“Yes, but very little.”

“I know, but you seem to be a natural. Now, here’s what I have in mind, Heidi. I’d like you to memorize the lines of the nurse in the play between now and dress rehearsal on Wednesday. Do you think you could do that?”

“Well there’s some work still to be done on the costumes, Mr, Kastner.”

“I think the major designing and sewing is done, and I’m sure Professor Saatchi and Daisy can spare you now. I’d like you to be standin and backup for the Nurse’s part. The girl who was to do that has gotten terribly ill and won’t be with us next week.”

“Oh Mr. Kastner, I couldn’t do that. The other actors might resent me from costumes.”

“Posh,” Kastner said, demonstrating a bit of femininity that often creeps into professional actor’s mannerisms. “You’ll do fine. I’ll just need you for backup.”

“I guess I can. The nurse has a lot of lines and I hope I can memorize them all,” Harold said, still retaining his feminine voice and mannerisms.

“Good, then. Study them over the weekend and come prepared to rehearse with the girl who is backup Juliet on Monday. I’ll clear this with Professor Saatchi and Daisy.”

The director leaned down and gave Harold one of those theaterical hugs and kisses. Harold felt so much like Heidi and Juliet at that moment. It was so magical.

“You know Heidi, I almost wish I had seen you first, before we cast the Juliet part. You’d have been perfect for it. You’re such a wisp of a girl, so lovely.”

*****
Harold was almost weak with both excitement and apprehension as he walked back to the costume room. His natural feminine characteristics had shown so brightly during the mock rehearsal of Scene 2 that he was now considered to be a girl by the director of the play. Could he continue to be seen as Heidi, the onetime costume girl who is now a budding actress?

The director went back into the room with Harold, and motioned for Daisy to join them.

“Daisy,” he said. “I’m wondering if I could use Heidi here from now on through the production. I need a standin for the nurse; Angelica has gotten sick, and I love how Heidi reads her lines. She could easily fill in, and I’m sure she’d fit in the nurse’s outfit.”

“Mr. Kastner,” Daisy began, looking strangely at Harold. “I think that’s . . . yes . . . that’s OK with me.”

“Good, Daisy, that’s settled then. Heidi, you’ll have to be here from 2 to 7 p.m. every day this week for rehearsals.”

Harold now was blushing, realizing that Daisy, of course, knew he was a boy. He wondered what the director would think once he found out the truth. He’d find out soon enough; Harold wondered whether he should tell him now. Yes, he figured, as embarrassing as it was, he better do it now.

Daisy, however, began talking first: “Mr. Kastner, there’s something you should know.”

“Yes, Daisy. What is it?”

Daisy looked at Harold, seeming to hesitate. She was growing beet red in the face, and Harold decided to tell the director himself.

“Mr, Kastner. I’m a boy. My name is Harold.”

He said it in the same high register, with the same feminine inflections.

“You’re what?”

“Yes, Mr. Kastner, Heidi here . . . er . . . Harold . . . we all call him Heidi . . . is a boy.”

“My God, a boy? You? You’re so lovely, so feminine. A boy?” The director was beside himself. Then he started laughing.

Everyone had gathered around, with Rachel adding: “We treat him like one of the girls. Oh Harold, I’m sorry I said that.”

“Rachel, that’s OK. I like being one of the girls, as you say,” Harold smiled.

Mr. Kastner came and hugged Harold again, and then moved arm’s length away, holding Harold by his arms.

“You’re precious. So precious,” he continued. “This is even better. You know in Shakespeare’s time, men always played female parts. I’d have loved to cast Heidi here — or Harold — as my Juliet, but alas there’s no time.”

The director left; he was smiling broadly. The girls gathered around Harold; he suddenly felt faint and Rachel took him by the arm, leading him to a chair, where they undressed him, and helped him get back into his male clothes.

“Oh Harold,” Daisy said. “I’m sorry I forced you to tell him. I just felt he should know.”

“I don’t know why, Daisy. No one here thinks of him as anyone but Heidi, the costume girl,” Rachel said.

“No Rachel, Daisy was right,” Harold said. “It’s dishonest not to tell him.”

*****

As they walked back to the campus, Rachel said: “May I ask you something? It’s personal?”

Harold was day-dreaming and thinking of how he felt so real to be playing the part of Juliet, telling of her love for a boy, only to learn the boy may have died. He loved feeling so feminine, so dainty and fragile.

“Did you hear me?” Rachel asked again.

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry, I was day-dreaming.”

“Were you dreaming about how marvelous you felt while being Juliet?” she asked.

“Yes, how did you know?”

“I could see it on your face, Harold. Or, should I say Heidi? I think you wish you were a girl, right?”

Harold didn’t answer, but his smile broadened. Rachel knew the answer; she stopped grabbed Harold, drawing him to her body and saying quietly in his ear: “I love you, girl friend.”

Harold at that moment accepted the fact: he had to be female. It felt so natural and so right. That may be a fact, but there would be plenty of hurdles ahead if he would ever truly be the girl he was meant to be. The reality was that in a few minutes he’d have to return to the frat house, where his femininity could pose further humiliations and even physical danger for him.

“Harold, or may I call you Heidi when it’s just you and me?” Rachel asked as they walked on.

“I’d love that, Rachel. I feel just like I’m your girl friend. That’s so nice.”

“You know, Heidi, I was thinking you could come to my place to rehearse those lines,” she said as they were approaching the street where they’d split and go in different directions.

“That would be nice, but aren’t you doing anything with Jason tonight or tomorrow?”

“Jason’s hanging around with the guys until about 9 tonight,” she said. “You could come now, and then maybe we could have a pizza or something.”

*****
Harold agreed that would be great idea, and he joined her in walking to her dormitory. Her roommate was gone for the weekend, and they could rehearse in Rachel’s room for a while. Rachel lived in an all-girls dormitory, one of the few on campus, since most now were co-ed; the rules allowed boys in rooms as long as the door was open and until 9 p.m. most nights.

The dormitory was named for Ethel Marie Carmody, who had been one of the earliest female deans in the University’s history. She had been legendary for leading the fight for women’s equality during the 1940s. The lobby was fairly quiet, but Harold felt very comfortable as he entered it. He felt he would have enjoyed living here; the girls he saw were largely giggling, although he did see two of them yelling at each other.

“Oh those two,” Rachel explained as they headed for the elevator. “They’ve been fighting over the same boy all semester.”

“I hope he’s worth it,” Harold said.

“Nah, he’s a slob,” Rachel said and they both laughed.

Just as the elevator door closed a short girl, with dark hair in bangs and wearing what appeared to be a jogging suit, entered. “Oh hi, Rachel,” she said breathlessly.

The elevator door closed, and Rachel introduced Harold to her. “Heidi,” she said, looking at Harold and winking, “I’d like you to meet Susie. She’s a friend from my home town. Lives a floor above me. And Heidi here is in the costume crew with me on the play.”

“Hi Susie,” was all Harold could say before the elevator door opened on Rachel’s floor, the third.

“Nice meeting you, Heidi,” the other girl said as the doors closed.

“You called me Heidi in there,” Harold said as the walked to Rachel’s room.

“Well you look so girlish now, really, with that blouse you’re wearing and girls often wear boys jeans. And your hair, too.”

“I guess I do,” he smiled.

“You do, believe me. Besides if she noticed your were a boy, which I doubt, she probably thought I was pretending you’re a girl to get you in the room.”

Harold almost pranced the rest of the way to Rachel’s room. He loved the smell in the corridor; a mixture of hair spray, perfumes, soap and maybe even the musty smell of unwashed clothes. What girls he saw were wearing shorts and tank tops, or tee shirts, no shoes and looking so lovely. He loved seeing their soft, smooth youthful skin, realizing that he could easily be one of them.

Rachel’s room was the typical narrow dormitory room, containing two less than twin-sized beds and two desks and shelves, with dresser drawers built in. Rachel’s side of the room was kept neat; she had a bed cover with pink and blue bunnies cavorting on the white quilt; and she had a large white stuffed bunny rabbit propped against the wall on her bed.

She had a Huskies pennant on the wall, and also a colored picture of a middle-aged woman and two girls, one of who was Rachel, posed in front of a small white Cape Cod style home.

“That’s our house, and my sister, Wendy. She’s 15 now. That picture was taken last year in spring.”

Rachel, he had to admit, looked a bit awkward in the picture; her outfit was a straight skirt, low heels and a turquoise blouse. Already, since she had been dating Jason, Harold could see there now was a pretty young lady developing in that once lanky body.

“Here,” she said, handing him a sleeveless, pink girl’s tee shirt. “Put this on, and also these earrings and this necklace.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I think you want to be one of the girls here! And besides it will stop the other girls teasing me about having two boy friends.”

He took off his shirt, exposing his slender, smooth chest and narrow shoulders and skinny arms.

“You better put this on first,” she said, giving him a white bra she pulled out of the drawer. “And here’s a pair of socks to stuff ‘em.”

He giggled now, so pleased he was being asked to dress as a dorm girl. When he was finished, she had him sit in her desk chair, while she sat on the bed, brushing his hair for several minutes, and then adding a hair band over the top of the head.

“There now, look at yourself Heidi,” she ordered. No one, he realized, would now think of him as anything but a girl. He loved what he saw.

*****
The two read and re-read the nurse’s lines from the play for about two hours, Harold sitting, cross-legged on the floor while Rachel lounged on the bed. She read the other parts, giving Harold a flavor of the words.

They had been committed to the task, and didn’t notice when Susie, Rachel’s friend from her hometown, entered the room, breaking their concentration with a comment:

“You girls are really studying, aren’t you?” she laughed.

Startled, Harold and Rachel just nodded as the intrusion burst into their deep concentration.

“Oh, hi Susie,” Rachel finally said. “We’re going over Heidi’s lines for the play.”

“Oh, what are you playing, Heidi?”

“Actually, I’m just the standin for the nurse in ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ It’s actually quite a large part and I was only told today that I should be prepared to be standin. The first girl they had got sick.”

“Ok, don’t mean to interrupt, but I just wondered whether Rachel wanted to go out to supper with me,” Susie said. “That is, unless Jason is coming over, or you two are doing anything.”

Rachel smiled, looking at Harold, getting an impish look on her face: “No we aren’t. We were just going to go for pizza in a few minutes. We’re just about done here. You can join us.”

“Oh I’d like that,” Susie said. “But where is Jason?”

“Out with the boys,” Rachel said. “He’s coming over about 9.”

They agreed to meet in the lobby in about 30 minutes; then the three of them would go eat. Harold was tickled that Susie would know him only as a lovely young girl named Heidi. When Susie left, he leaned over and kissed Rachel, hoping she would take it as a kiss between two girl friends.

“Thank you, Rachel,” he said as their lips parted.

“What for?”

“For introducing me as a girl here. That’s so sweet.”

“Well, Heidi, I think you’re all girl, and so does everyone else.”

But, thought Harold, the fact was he was still Harold Cochran, Jr., a boy only now becoming to develop into a man with a penis and with the peach fuzz on his face soon becoming a beard. And, he lived in a fraternity house, not a girls’ dormitory. He felt so comfortable in the dormitory with Rachel, his legs curled under him, lounging about like all the other girls. He loved the scent of the girls dorm, its mixture of hair spray, soap, perfumes and, of course, the lingering sourness of dirty clothes and female hygiene. He loved seeing the stockings and bras that Rachel’s sloppier roommate left lying about.

Most of all, Harold felt safe here, and felt he belonged. He loved hearing the high-pitched giggles up and down the hall; he even preferred the insistent whine of one girl complaining about the others stealing her hairbrush.

He wanted to be one of them, as he watched them freely run up and down the halls braless, wearing shorts and tee shirts, or wearing only panties and bra, as many were doing that afternoon. He looked at all of this young, mainly white sweet flesh, not with a sexual lust, but rather with a desire to be one of them.

As he thought this, Harold Cochran Jr. pondered his future.

(To Be Continued)