Michael released his tight hold on Cassandra “Thank you for sticking this out.” He said softly. “I know it wasn’t easy.”
She gave him a smile full of pity and compassion. “You have the harder end of the bargain. Just because we can’t date doesn’t mean that we can’t still be friends.”
Michael gave her a small smile. “I hope that is so.”
“Come on.” A voice complained. “It’s not as if he’s dying or that you’ll never see him again.”
Michael shot his older brother a sharp look
“Sorry, wrong choice of words.” He apologized. “You know what I mean.”
“I’ll see you at the wedding next month, right?” He asked.
Cassandra nodded. “I don’t think we are allowed to bail on that.”
Michael held her hand for a moment longer before releasing it. With a deep sigh, he turned away and climbed into his older brother’s car.
“Sorry,” Peyton stated. “You will see her again this summer though, right?”
Michael shrugged. Tears stung his eyes. Everything was changing. Well they had started changing a few months ago and this breakup was just the final nail in the coffin of what would be his old life. He really loved Cassandra. She had been so understanding and such a rock in this uncertain time. They had agreed to delay their break up until the last day of school to help him keep the secret that he harbored. He knew that he would see her again this summer and of course next year at school, but it would be in a totally different context.
Michael felt his brother’s hand on his knee and was comforted by it. It had been different for Peyton. He didn’t care what people thought about him. He never had.
“You want to grab some ice cream on the way home?” His brother gave his knee a squeeze and shot him a quick smile.
Michael shook his head. “I just wanna get this weight off my chest.” He punched his chest and winced regretting the action.
His brother nodded and gave him space and quiet as they drove home.

Four months ago, while in choir, he started having trouble getting his voice down to some of the lower notes. He tried gargling, doing scales, it was strange. He had no difficulty hitting those notes earlier. It was his brother Peyton who figured out the issue. It was Peyton who drove him to the Doctor’s office to get tested. It was Peyton who waited with him for the results and it was Peyton who held him in his arms in the church and cried with him until his parents arrived.
The horrified looks of his parents as the diagnosis was confirmed. Gender Auto Switch Syndrome. (G.A.S.S.) The odds of all three of their offspring to have this strange genetic trigger was staggering. Their oldest, Lucas had been an all-star football player and straight A student when strange things started happening. Lucas was diagnosed with GASS and was mortified. He became clinically depressed and had a difficult time in his new life as Laura. Laura eventually took her own life. The night that they found her body will forever be seared into his brain. It was devastating.
Just after losing his big brother Lucas/Laura, Peyton was diagnosed with GASS. The night that his parent sat him down and informed him that his older sister was going to become his older brother was one of the most horrifying in his life. His parents became overly proactive with Peyton helping her with her gender switch. Peyton never really cared what others thought of her, dealt with it better than most. Peyton didn’t even bother changing her name.
His parents promised him that they would be just as proactive as they had been with Peyton. Peyton too promised to keep a close eye on him. The mood swings that troubled Lucas would most likely be difficult for him as well. It wasn’t long after the diagnosis that Michael’s body began its gender switch. He started losing muscle. His skin became softer and breasts began to bud.
Informing Cassandra was hard. She however was a rock start and after the two of them had a good cry, she agreed that they needed to be dating until the end of the school year. That way Michael could ‘come out’ during the summer and not have to deal with the change while in school.
Michael was out of the car nearly before it came to a stop and rushed into the house, his eyes blurred with tears as they came unheeded now. He kicked off his shoes and nearly sprinted up the stairs to his bedroom and closed the door behind him.
Michael pulled his shirt over his head and felt his short pony to flop against the back of his neck. His right hand reached under his left arm and unhooked the little fastener. The wide ace bandage eased its hold and he began unwinding it from around his chest. He let out a large sigh and began sobbing harder as his breasts were released from their bindings and fell natural. It was the last time he was going to have to bind his chest. He rubbed at a few itchy spots as well as a sore spot, before collapsing on his bed and curling up to cry harder.
A soft knock came at the door. “Hey, bro. Can I come in?” Peyton asked quietly.
Michael didn’t answer. Nor did he protest when Peyton slid quietly into the room and eased himself onto Michael’s bed.
“I’d tell you that it gets easier, but I’d be lying.” He sighed. “After a while it does, but it takes a while.”
“How did you deal with it?” Michael snuffed.
“Did you forget about how angry I was?” Peyton asked. “All that testosterone coursing through my veins. Dad set up the punching bag so that I could release all that anger and hate. I hated everyone and what this shit had done to me and our family. I didn’t want to go through this anymore than you or Lucas.”
Michael’s heart tightened at the sound of his dead brother’s name. He thought he was cried out, but the memories of losing his brother brought fresh tears to his eyes. “All I want to do is cry. I cry all the time.”
“As hard as these emotions are, just be glad you aren’t trying to tear everyone’s head off.” Peyton stated. “I remember going though puberty as a girl.” He let out a deep breath then inhaled just as deeply. “Your emotions are on a roller coaster. Happy and care free one moment and then blubbering ball of tears and snot the next. It isn’t easy, but that’s why mom and I are here for you.”
Michael reached out and hand and grabbed his brother’s and gave it a squeeze. He almost started crying again realizing that it was a feminine gesture. “I don’t want to be a Betty.” He whined.
“Do you really think I wanted to be a Barney?” Peyton shrugged.
Betty’s and Barney’s were slang for people with GASS. A lot of Betty’s had a hard time with being feminine. They tended to be butch. Short hair, no makeup. Always wearing pants and over sized shirts to hide their femininity. Unfortunately, this group were referred to as ‘Ugly Betty’s’. They tended to stay together in groups, down cast faces, not liking what they had become, or trying to deny it.
Barney’s were the male version. Most Barney’s like Peyton tended to maintain a bit of femininity. Some still wore makeup, some cross dressed. Others embraced their change. They grew beards, pumped iron, tried out for football. Peyton was kind of in the middle. He still took care of his skin and groomed his eye brows, but he also worked out and tried to embrace the positives of being male.
“How’s it going down…. You know, down there?” Peyton inquired.
“I think that is the worse part.” Michael released his brother’s hand and muffled a scream in a pillow. “Its….. its so small now. And I am so sexually frustrated, but can’t do anything about it.”
Peyton nodded. “I remember that stage. Its no fun, but it too will pass.” The two sat in silence for a long while. “Have you decided what to do about your name?”
Michael shook his head and looked up at his brother. “I don’t want to be a Michelle or Shelly. That just isn’t me. Lucas only settled on Laura because he had given up and he hated Lucy.”
Peyton nodded sadly.
“You had it easy. You kept yours.” Michael snuffed.
“I am who I am.” Peyton stated. “I’m also lucky that my name is gender neutral.”
Michael thought back to when Peyton was a girl. She had such pretty, thick long dark hair and such pretty skin. The young man that he had become was a chiseled version of what she had been. He was a very handsome man. He maintained a lot of the prettiness. He now wore his hair in a short taper and stubble shadowed his jawline. He had his clothing tailored and worked out to maintain a very masculine physique. Peyton was one of the Barney’s who didn’t switch their sexual preference. Otherwise Michael was sure that girls would have lined up for his attention.
Michael sat up in bed. His breasts falling naturally without support. He didn’t feel self-conscious around Peyton. He looked down at his breasts and then up at his brother.
“I miss mine.” Peyton admitted. “I had a nice pair.”
“I never looked at you that way, but I looking back at pictures, I agree, you did have a nice set.”
“Yours are very nice too.” Peyton gave Michael a smile. “I know that isn’t exactly what you want to hear right now, but hopefully you’ll appreciate them later.” He sighed again. “I’ll be right back.” He got up and left Michael alone again.
Michael got out of bed and pulled a T shirt out of a drawer and pulled on, and settled it over his growing chest.
“Found it.” Peyton returned.
“Found what?” Michael turned from the mirror.
“One of my bras.” Peyton tossed the under garment. “Put that on and I’ll help you adjust it.
Michael grabbed it out of the air and looked at in horror.
“You’ll learn to like it.” Peyton told him. “And hate it.”
“Now?” Michael studied it unsure.
“Yep.” Peyton nodded. “Mom says she’s running late with a client. I’ll need your help fixing dinner and It’ll keep those from flopping around.”
Michael sighed and stripped his T-shirt back off. “Don’t laugh.” He cautioned his brother.
“No problem.” Peyton slipped out of the room. “I’ll be out here if you need me.”
A few moments later Michael called out to his brother. Peyton entered the room and looked over Michael wearing the bra. “I’ll just adjust a couple of things. There, how does that feel?”
“Weird.” Michael shrugged. “I see how it is comfortable supporting, so that they don’t seem to be weighing as much. But it’s such girl thing… I know. I need to start getting used to it.” He pulled his T-shirt back on and looked at himself in the mirror with perkier breasts tightening his shirt over his chest.
“Speaking of which.” Peyton tugged the elastic from Michaels hair allowing it to fall free. “Time to start getting used to this too.”
Dark hair brushed his shoulders and fell in his face.
The two padded down stairs and started making dinner.

“Have you thought about how you’d like to do this?” Peyton asked.
“Cut onions? The same way I always do.” Michael flipped his head, trying to get the hair out of his face.
“No.” Peyton rolled his eyes. “Dealing with your GASS. Are you going to slowly try to move into your new identity, or rip the bandage off and jump into it?”
“Hadn’t thought about it.” Michael minced the onions and moved them to a bowl. He looked up at his brother. “What do you think?”
“It’s an individual decision.” His brother stated. “Lucas was in denial for most of it and fought what he could. He never gave Laura a chance. Haven’t you and your counselor talked about this?”
Michael shrugged. “Not much. She is mainly helping me with the emotional social and physical stuff.”
“Well, it’s something for you to bring up with her and think about.”
“You jumped into it didn’t you?” Michael asked.
“Yeah, kinda. One morning I woke up pissed at not being pretty any longer. Having no breasts or hips. My genitals were starting to emerge. I said Fuck this shit and just embraced being a guy.”

Michael wrapped a towel around his chest. Another thing that was different. He kept pulling down on the bottom edge not wanting genitals to show even though there was nothing left down there. He then pulled it up so that his breasts were covered.
“Fuck it.” He yanked off the towel and darted a look at the mirror. He hadn’t looked in the mirror for a while. He hated seeing the changes taking place that he had no control over. Slowly he looked back in the mirror and stepped forward. His eyes scanned his reflection. What used to be a muscular chest and arms were now soft and delicate. Hard pecks that he had worked for were now perky rounded breasts. His body hair was one of the first things to have gone when GASS took over his body. His abs were still quite toned, but they too were slighter then flared out to hips which were developing. The worse part was that there was no longer a penis of scrotum hanging between his legs. He put his hand down there and felt. Not even a bump. He was still at the frustrating in-between stage where his vagina hadn’t started forming yet but his penis had already been absorbed by his body.
He turned slightly noticing that his bum had also started changing the fat, and muscle shifting, becoming more feminine as well. He studied his reflection for a few moments longer his eyes coming to rest on his face. Soft skin, almost glowing had replaced his dark stubble. He couldn’t tell exactly what was different, but his face had softened, no longer a chiseled jaw, but soft cheeks.
He sighed heavily. There wasn’t much of what he identified as Michael left in that face, or that body. He picked up the comb and combed out his dark hair which brushed just past his shoulders. Then looked with animosity at the bra. He snatched it up and strapped it on, settling his breasts in place.
He pulled on a pair of jeans which were too tight in the thigh and butt and too loose around his waist, pulled a Led Zeppelin shirt on and padded down stairs where his mother was texting while eating breakfast.
She looked up and gave him a smile.
“Mom?” he asked grabbing a bagel and pouring himself some coffee.
“One second.” She instructed. “Finishing up with a client.”
He sat across from her and waited.
“Okay.” She looked up. “What is it?”
“I’ve been talking with Peyton and my counselor and I feel its about time I changed my name. “Not many girls out their named Michael after all.”
“What did you have in mind?” his mother asked.
“I really haven’t given it much thought other than I don’t want to be a Michelle or something like that.”
“Okay.” She set her phone down.
“When you were pregnant with me did you have any girl names picked out?”
His mother nodded. “Miranda was my favorite, and your dad didn’t hate it.”
“Miranda.” Michael tasted the sound, felt how it rolled out of his mouth. “Huh. Thanks.” He scooped up his bagel and coffee and stood up. “oh, mom?”
“Yes, hon?”
“Can you do something with this.” He asked pulling the unruly strands of hair around his face.
“I’d be happy too.” She smiled up at him. “I have to confirm a few more appointments then we can take care of that. Um…. Would you like to do that here or down at the salon?”
“Can we do it here, please.” Michael asked.
His mother nodded.

Michael knocked on Peyton’s door and peaked in. “Peyton?”
“Hey little bro.” Peyton greeted “What’s up?”
“Its…. Its kind of embarrassing.”
“Come on, it’s me.” Peyton encouraged.
“Do you…. Never mind. Sorry I bugged you.” Michael closed the door quickly and sprinted into his room closing his own door. His heart pounded and his face felt like it was on fire.
“You okay?” Peyton’s voice came from the hall as well as a light knock.
Michael sat on his bed, fuming with embarrassment and gritted his teeth.
The door pushed open and Peyton stuck his head in. “Hey now. What’s going on?”
“Its stupid.” Michael growled.
“What did this family swear to do after Lucas died?” Peyton entered and crossed his arms over his chest. “We swore to help support each other especially in times like these. You and Dad helped me out when I was going through some of these issues. Now its my turn. What’s up?”
Michael dropped his gaze from his brother’s. “I was wondering if you had anymore of your old clothes that I could maybe wear.” He darted an uncertain look at his brother and back to the floor.
“Michael, Michael, Michael.” Peyton sighed.
Michael looked up to see a loving smile on his brother’s face.
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask for months now.” His smile widened to a big grin. “You stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Michael was dumbfounded. His brother had been waiting for this?
Peyton came back in carrying one large box and scooting another along the floor with his feet. “Now the question is, do you want help going through this, or do you want some privacy?”
“Um. I hadn’t really thought about it.” Michael stated. Two large boxes of women’s clothing. “I guess you can help me figure out what is what?”
“Good answer.” Peyton tore open a box and started pulling out and shaking out blouses. “Oh, I loved this one. God, I miss wearing these things.”
“Really?” Michael questioned.
“Clothing is one of the best parts of being a girl.” Peyton affirmed. “Oh, I miss this one too. Why can’t they make guys clothes more like these?”
“Then they wouldn’t be guys clothes?” Michael wondered.
“Guys clothes are so boring.” Peyton whined. “Pants and shirts. Shorts and shirts. Oh wait, cargo pants and shirts. And don’t get me started on the colors. Red, blue, black, gray, brown. Ug.” He said the last like a cave man. “Where are the scarlets, the Bordeaux’s, the topaz or powder, the chartreuse or Celeron? and guys can’t possibly wear sunflower, or sunshine or marigold. It’s so boring.” Peyton held up a soft pink tank top. “What color is this?” He asked Michael.
“Baby pink?”
“Exactly.” Peyton exclaimed. “See your more girl that you thought. If I showed this to any guy, they would say ‘pink’. This by the way would look great with your skin tone.” He tossed the tank to Michael.
Michael looked at it an put it to one side.
Peyton held up a denim straight skirt. “Oh I miss skirts.” Peyton exclaimed. “I’m starting to get envious and mad with you.” Peyton stated. “Skirts and dresses are some of the best parts of being a girl. The freedom, the cool breezes. Not having your legs trapped in pants all the time.”
“Skirts, seriously?” Michael asked in disbelief.
“You’ll become a believer soon enough.” Peyton sighed. “I really miss this one.” You should definitely try this one on.” He tossed the denim skirt at Michael.
“Other than clothing, what is so great about being a girl?” Michael posed.
Peyton stopped for a moment and stared at his brother. “being treated like a princess.” He sighed. “I miss being a princess.”
“Seriously?” Michael asked rolling his eyes.
“Yes.” Peyton assured. “Of course, you have to act the Princess to be treated like a princess. Have you ever noticed how Alana doesn’t have to do anything? If she drops a book or a pen, someone picks it up for her. She never has to open a door if there is someone nearby to do it for her. She acts like a princess, expects to be treated like one and so they all do.” Another sigh. “I was going to be the princess of the school until I became a Barney. But I am the Beau of the Barneys.”
“Yes, you are,” Michael stated.
“Are you mocking me?”
Michael shook his head. “No. Most of the Barneys and many of the girls at school would call you the Beau of the Barneys, if that is the male version of being a princess.”
Peyton gave him a penetrating look then grinned. “I am, aren’t I?” he laughed. He pulled out a dress and gasped. “I forgot about you.” He jumped to his feet and held the dress up to his shape and sighed. “I think I’m going to have you do this on your own. This is harder than I thought.” He tossed the dress back into the box and stormed out of the room.
“Peyton.” Michael called after him. “Peyton?” He pulled out a few more items of clothing and set them into piles. He got up and crept into Peyton’s room. “Peyton?”
Peyton was laying on his bed curled into fetal position. “I hate this part of being a guy.” He growled.
“Not wearing pretty clothes?”
“Not being able to cry. Getting angry over stupid stuff and not being able to release it. Add that to your list of positives to being a girl.”
“Crying is a positive?” Michael sat down on Peyton’s bed. “I’m sorry.” He ventured.
“It’s not your fault little bro…… I won’t be calling you that, much longer will I?”
Michael shook his head.
“Girls cry a lot, but it’s a good thing. It releases all of those feelings, flushes them out of the system.” Peyton stated. “This part of being a guy sucks. I’m hurt but I can’t cry.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you?” Michael offered.
“It wasn’t you. Just some memories and emotions that jumped up from nowhere. I guess I’m going to have to beat on the bag again. Go through that stuff. Try it on and see if it fits. If you need any help let me know.”
“Are you sure?” Michael asked.
Peyton nodded.

Michael slid into the long skirt and tucked the red blouse into it. He looked into the mirror at the new reflection there. A pretty young lady with dark brown hair cut into a bob parted to one side, blue eyes accentuated with mascara looked back. The red blouse was a scoop neck that showed a good portion of cleavage and softened already delicate shoulders. He stood taller and took a deep breath before turning padding down stairs.
“We’re waiting.” His mother called just as he rounded the corner. “Oh…. There you are… Don’t you look nice.”
He stared at the rest of the family watching him but trying not to be obvious.
“My name is Miranda.” She said before sliding into a chair opposite of her brother.
“You look nice, Little sis.” Peyton smiled at her.
She smiled back.
“You look very pretty” Her father gave her a heartfelt smile.

Miranda finished applying the eyeshadow that Peyton had given her, pulled back from the mirror and looked to see if it was evenly applied. She smiled at her success and pulled out the mascara. A few light flicks of her eye lashes and she was finished. Peyton and her mother had spent time the last few days helping to instruct her on its application. She pulled the cloth hairband off her head and let her dark hair fall to below her chin, brushing her cheeks.
She scanned herself in the full-length mirror. Royal blue scoop neck blouse with rhinestones dotting the collar with a pair of tight jeans. Peyton’s jeans fit her better than her boy jeans did but women’s clothing fit a lot tighter than guys. Peyton said to think of it as a fashion hug. She reminded herself how much she liked seeing girls in clothes such as these and mentally relented. She slipped on some white converse shoes and scampered down stairs.
“I’m off to see Brandon.” She told her mom.
Brandon had been her best friend since middle school. They joined the football team together and hung out playing video games mostly at Brandon’s house. Brandon knew that Michael had been triggered by GASS and didn’t seem to mind too much, although the last few weeks of school he seemed to be a bit more distant.
“Hello, Mrs. Jenkins.” Miranda greeted Brandon’s mother at the door. “I’m Miranda.” She stated at Mrs. Jenkins blank look. “I was Michael.” She explained.
“Wow.” Mrs. Jenkins replied. “Well, Miranda is it now? I sure didn’t expect this.”
“Didn’t Brandon tell you that I was GASS triggered?” she felt her cheeks flush. Just like him to not tell his parents.
“No, he didn’t.” Mrs. Jenkins stated. “Come on in, Miranda. He’s in the den.”
Miranda stepped in.
“Well, you seem to be adjusting well.” She closed the door behind her.
“This is actually my first time out of the house since ‘this’ happened.” She gestured at her body. “So, Brandon might be surprised.”
“Good luck.” Brandon’s mom gave her a smile. “Should I make rice crispy treats?”
Miranda’s eyes lit up. “Yes please.”
Miranda’s heart began to pound in her chest as she entered the den. “Hey Brandon.” She greeted.
“Oh, hey.” He said without looking away from his game. “Jump in. Your controller is waiting for you.”
“Brandon, we kinda need to talk first.”
“Talk? About what?” He still didn’t look at her.
Was her heart going to beat out of her chest? “Brandon.” Miranda moved in front of the screen.
“Wait, what?” he looked at Miranda and then did another scan. “What the…? Michael?”
“This is the new me.” Her heart was in her throat. “I am Miranda now.” A jolt of adrenaline nearly made her shiver.
“Holy crap… dude….”
“I warned you this was happening.” She stated. “That I got triggered and becoming a Betty.”
“Yeah, but…. But….. that was fast.” He stared at her. “Wow.” He scanned her again. “Sorry. But…. Dude I don’t know what to say.”
“How about you move over so I can kick your butt at this game.” She kicked at his legs to get him to shift over.
“A bossy Betty?” Brandon muttered as he shifted.
“Fuck you.” She growled low so that his mother couldn’t hear. “Give me that controller, dick-head.”
The two played games almost like they used to. Almost because every once in a while, Brandon would look over and almost forget the game as he stared at her.
After a while. “What’s it like?” Brandon asked hesitantly.
“I still feel mostly the same.” Miranda explained. “Physically, I’m different.” She squeezed her breasts together. “Emotionally I’m a wreck. I’m always crying, sometimes for stupid stuff but mostly because I didn’t ask or want any of this. I’m still the same person though. I like gaming with you. I still love Football even though I won’t be able to play anymore… I still like girls.”
“How did the breakup with Cassandra go?”
“Rough. We kind of wound it down over the last few weeks, but it is still hard. We decided to not see each other for a few weeks. Cold turkey.” Miranda leaned back on the couch a bit. “I still love her.” She stated. “I think that’s the hard part.”
Silence fell between them as they played.
“So, have you like…. Played with yourself?” Brandon broke the quiet.
Miranda punched him in the arm.
“Ouch.” He rubbed his arm. “I’m just curious.”
She punched him in the arm again.
Brandon rubbed the spot that she hit.
“Unfortunately, my genitals haven’t developed enough for that.” She growled. “It’s very frustrating.”
“Big case of blue balls, huh?” Brandon joked.
Miranda punched him in the arm again which only got him laughing.
“Well you definitely don’t hit like a girl. Jesus, that hurt.”
“Good!” Quieter, “Dickhead.”
Brandon chuckled. Which caused her to start laughing.
“Oh my God,” he continued laughing.
“What?”
“Your laugh has changed.” He stated.
“What?” She stopped immediately and tried to remember how she had just sounded.
“It’s cute.” He stated giving her a smile. “I like it.”
Miranda didn’t know how to feel about that. Her laugh had changed too? And Brandon thought it was cute?
Brandon shielded his arm with his other hand. “Don’t hit me again.” He pleaded as he went back to chuckling. He stopped and looked at Miranda. “What?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Fucking tears.” Miranda wiped at her eyes.
“What did I do?” He paused the game and turned to look at her.
“All of this changing.” She wiped her tears on her jeans an went to clear away more. “Even my laugh? Seriously? Can’t I keep anything of mine?”
“I like your laugh.” Brandon assured her. “It has a…. I don’t know…. A melodic sound to it? Does that make any sense?”
“Damn it. I need tissue.” She jumped up from the sofa and ran to the adjacent bathroom.
She was looking at her bloodshot eyes and smeared mascara when Brandon leaned against the doorway. “If it means anything, I liked your old laugh too.”
She stopped what she was doing and looked at him through the mirror. He looked concerned. “I’m sorry, Brandon. I warned you I cry over the stupidest things now. Its horrible.” She tossed the tissue and approached Brandon. The next thing she knew she had her arms wrapped around him in a hug. “Thank you for still being my friend.” She told him. “I really needed some gaming time with my friend.”
“Uh, sure.” Brandon gave her a squeeze then stepped back. “I don’t want to ruin the moment, but um…. Are you shorter?”
“You jerk.” She punched him in the chest.
“Ow. You really need to work on not punching me. I’ll be covered in bruises tomorrow.”
Miranda ignored him, her eyes flashing anger, “Barneys get growth spurts and can use all that testosterone to build muscle and bone density quickly. Us Betty’s, well we become more….. demure.” She pushed him back into the den towards the sofa. “We lose muscle, we lose bone density, and we lose height, all in exchange for breasts and butts.”
“I’m sorry.” He stumbled backwards into his spot on the sofa. “I just noticed when you hugged me. We’ve been sitting this whole time.”
Miranda collapsed into the sofa beside him and took a couple of deep breaths. “Like I said, these emotions suck.” She took a long drink of water and picked up her controller. “Come on. I need to kick your ass a bit more.”
“I’ve already got enough bruises.” He complained mockingly as he un-paused the game.
They played for a bit longer when Miranda’s phone alerted. She picked it up. “Yes, Mom?..... ok…… I’ll head on back.”
“Gotta go?” Brandon stated the obvious.
“Yes.” She put the phone in her back pocket. The front pockets of these jeans were barely big enough for a stick of gum. “Will you be at church tomorrow?” She stood up then bent over to set the controller down. A flash of embarrassment shot through her as she noticed Brandon’s eyes checking out her cleavage.
“Don’t know, depends on my Dad’s work.” He shrugged while covering up what he had been doing. “Why?”
“It’d be nice to have a friend there. While I show up like this.” She looked down at herself. Could she really blame him? When She was Michael, she did the same thing. Beside as Peyton had pointed out, she did have a nice set.
“I’ll try to be there.” He gave her a smile.
“I hope so. Thanks.”
“For?”
“Being my punching bag.” She kicked his foot playfully “and for the much-needed gaming session.”
“What are best friends for?”

“I’m home.” Miranda called out as she entered the door.
“How was your time with Brandon?” Her mom called from the kitchen.
“It was okay.” Miranda said matter of fact as she entered the room.
“What happened to your makeup?” her mother questioned. “Are you alright?”
“Stupid crying.” Miranda grumbled.
“Was Brandon mean?” her mother asked. “You did warn him about your changes this summer.”
“He was fine.” Miranda defended. “Just my emotional roller coaster, one rider only.”
“Peyton.” Her mother called upstairs.
“Yeah?”
“Help Miranda with her face, but make it quick, we need to get going.”
“Help with my face? Really mom?” She admonished. “Where are we going?”
“Get upstairs. Your brother informed me that you are still wearing your boxers.”
“Yeah?”
“And Peyton’s old clothes, which do look nice, but we need to get you your own.” She stated.
“Shopping?” Miranda groaned.
“Shopping.” Her mother sang.
Miranda groaned louder as she trudged up the stairs.

Who knew women needed so much stuff? It was nice getting her own bras, but six of them? And her own under wear even though they felt like she was walking around with a permanent wedgie. Three pairs of sandals, five different types of shoes, did she really need all of those? Apparently, Peyton’s wardrobe although very nice, was out of date. So a few new tops and of all things a dress….. with flowers on it. Miranda did like the feel of the fabric and the flowers weren’t too bad. Peyton and her mom both gave it rave reviews so it too was purchased.
Then came the most uncomfortable part. Makeup. The store smelled too heavily of too many perfumes, and all of the different bottles, tubes and somethings called cakes? Powders, lotions, cleansers, how in the hell did women keep any of it straight? Before she knew it, she was sitting in a stall chair and had a woman with perfect makeup applying all kinds of the stuff to her face.
When Miranda was handed a mirror, she didn’t recognize her reflection. A drop dead beautiful young woman looked back at her. It couldn’t be her, could it? She stared at her face as she turned her head from one side to the other. It moved when she did. “Is that really me?” She gasped. The looked up at three faces with giant smiles. Her mother was clapping her hands she was so excited.
Peyton just shook his head and whistled. “Damn, Sis.”
Miranda looked back at the unrecognizable face in the mirror. “There’s no way I can do this.”
“Just takes a little practice.” The makeup artist nodded.
“Peyton can help you at first.” Her mother smiled.
Peyton nodded in agreement.
Her mother and Peyton then conversed with the artist over which items were necessary while Miranda ogled herself in the mirror. How could a bit of powder and some color transform her into this? Her blue eyes looked twice as large with the shadow, liner and mascara. It was amazing. Her cheeks seemed to glow; a radiance she swore was done by some magic. She wasn’t sure about the stuff they put on her lips, but it made them full and shimmery. She’d almost want to kiss herself with those lips. Stupid thought. She shoved that out of her mind. Peyton handed her a bag holding all of the makeup purchases.
“How much did all this cost?” She asked.
“More than you want to know.” Peyton shot her a smile. “I miss putting makeup on.”
“You still can,” Miranda got up and with one more look in the mirror handed it back.
“I may be a Barney, but I won’t be one of ‘those’ Barneys.”
Catching her reflection in a mirror caught her off guard. She stopped and just stared at her image in the floor to ceiling length reflection. There was no sign of Michael anywhere. None. Part of her wanted to cry but a stronger part was thrilled at how….. should she say, pretty, she was.
“Startling, isn’t it?” Peyton came back to gather her. “You know…. You could actually be prettier than I ever was.”
“That couldn’t be possible.” Miranda gave her brother’s hand a squeeze, “But I appreciate it.”
Miranda did notice that she felt pretty and walked with her head up and more confidence. There was no way that she could be seen as a guy, and very miniscule chance that anyone would suspect that she was a Betty. She kept seeing guys looking at her twice out of the corner of her eye or guys looking away when she glanced at them.
“Why are all of these guys staring at me?” She muttered to Peyton.
“Are you serious?” Peyton asked. “Seriously? Miranda, you are stunning. I’ve noticed gay guys checking you out as well.”
“Its kind of unnerving.” She admitted.
“Get used to it, Sis. You’re dressed down today in your jeans and blouse. Wait until we get you in a skirt and heels. You’ll be causing traffic accidents.” Peyton leaned closer to her and whispered. “I’ll take you shopping with out mom and we’ll get you some proper head turning clothes.”
Miranda didn’t know how to take that. Did she really want men ogling her like this? On one hand it was kind of creepy, another, very flattering.

“Alright you two, go put your haul away while I fix dinner.”
Miranda with the help of her older brother carried what seemed like dozens of bags up to her room and plopped them on her bed.
“Wait, before you go pulling stuff out.” Peyton cautioned. “First we need to go through your closet and get rid of your guy clothes.”
“Seriously? Do we have too?” Miranda protested.
“Do any of your guy jeans fit you any longer?”
“No.”
“So why keep them.” Peyton stated. “Besides, I’ve given you a bunch of clothes, perhaps some of yours will fit me.”
“But you like yours all tailored and stuff.” Miranda pointed out.
“Yes, and perhaps your old jeans can be tailored for me.” He pulled a dozen of jeans off hangers and piled them off to one side.
“Can’t I keep any of them?” She asked.
Peyton shook his head. “If you really need them, you can borrow them from me. Next are your button downs.” He pulled all of those off of hangers and piled them on top of the jeans.
Miranda didn’t care as much about those as her old jeans. “You are not taking my band shirts.” Her voice cold and strong.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Peyton held his hands up in surrender. “You might need to have them altered though. I will however, take your polo shirts and your Hanley shirts. You can burn your boxers now that you have proper panties.”
“You want to take my suit?” Miranda urged.
Peyton shook his head. “Not that cheap thing. I don’t think even alterations could make that fit to wear.”
Once most of Michael’s clothing had been hauled out. Peyton showed Miranda the proper way to hang her clothes, showing her specialty hangers to use for different articles and fabrics.

Miranda sat in the back seat of the suburban wringing her hands. Her heart was pounding in her ears as well as her chest.
Her mother turned and smiled at her. “Everything will be alright. You’ll see.” She patted Miranda’s knee. “Its not like you don’t know anyone.”
“I think that’s what makes it worse.” Miranda moaned.
“Brandon dealt with it okay, right?” She tried to assure her daughter.
Miranda nodded, the longer hair bouncing around her peripheral vision was a slight distraction.
“You texted Brandon. He’s going to be here, right?” Peyton asked.
Miranda’s tongue stuck to the top of her mouth. She nodded. She licked her lips the gloss on them still feeling alien. “I just feel very exposed and vulnerable.” She admitted, her voice trembling.
“Thank you for sharing that with us.” Her mother gave her a reassuring smile. “That is a huge admission. I think your brother can understand how that feels.”
Miranda noticed Peyton nodding out of the corner of her eye. She looked down at her exposed cleavage. “I’m not showing too much am I?”
“You look beautiful.” Her father stated looking at her through the rearview mirror.
She was surprised to feel a bit of a thrill at the compliment. And from her dad.
“You look amazing.” Peyton affirmed. “We wouldn’t let you embarrass yourself.”
“Let’s get this over with.” Her father opened the door prompting the others to follow.
Miranda got out and felt the hem of her dress brush her legs just below her knees. It felt strange she was exposing parts of her body in ways that she never had as Michael.
She looked across the parking lot at the church and took a deep breath.
“You look stunning.” Her mother took her hand in hers and urged her forward.
“Everything just feels…. weird.” She stated holding on to her mother’s hand for support. “I’m not a different person, but yet, I am a different person. How will people treat me?
Her mother gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m sure people will treat you a little different at first. They’ll probably be just as anxious about meeting you as you are of them. You’ll just have to give them a smile and give them a chance to understand that even though you look different, you are still the amazing person I gave birth too.”
“It’s a pretty dress.” Peyton shot her a smile. The peach dress that complimented her skin tone was scattered with small blue flowers which matched her eyes. “Thankyou. It had better be, you and mom made me wear it.”
“Is this your first time wearing a dress?” Peyton realized.
“Is it obvious? Am I doing something wrong?” Miranda looked down at the fabric flowing around her.
“You’re doing fine.” Her mother assured her.
Peyton had made her shave her legs after dinner the night before. It was the first time she had experienced that. Everything felt so much more enhanced on her now highly sensitive skin. The hem of the dress swishing against her knees. The heat radiating from the pavement, and the slight breeze that lightly caressed her skin nearly had her breaking out in goose pimples.
Several friends of her parents waved and smiled. A few gave her a second glance not recognizing her.
“Here goes nothing.” She muttered to herself as her family entered an outdoor courtyard in front of the chapel. Miranda’s eyes darted from one cluster of people to another then to the ground not wanting to meet people’s eyes.
“And this must be Miranda.” A familiar bubbly voice grabbed her attention. Miranda looked into the plump smiling face of Sierra. “Wow, you are so pretty, Miranda, and what a pretty dress.”
“Hi, Sierra.” Miranda looked confused at the pretty blonde. She was part of her church high school group, but she was two years older; in Peyton’s year.
Sierra leaned in. “Peyton called me last night and asked me to help out.” She gave her a soft bubbly giggle and took her hand from her mothers, giving her mother a smile. “I’ve got her.”
Miranda’s mother looked torn between protecting her and letting her go. She gave Sierra a smile and a nod.
“Peyton told you about me?” She asked Sierra.
“He just asked me if I could help make your transition at church easier.” She gave Miranda a warm smile and her hand a squeeze. “Come on, I’ve got to introduce you to the rest of the girls.” She guided Miranda towards a bunch of girls that knew her as Michael.
Miranda swallowed a large lump and nearly coughed.
“Good morning, girls.” She greeted. “I’d like you to meet my new best friend, Miranda,”
The three girls looked Miranda up and down,
“Oh my God…. Michael?” Stephanie gasped.
Miranda’s heart nearly stopped.
“Her name is Miranda.” Sierra commanded.
“Hi, Miranda.” Rose greeted.
“Hi…. Miranda.” Stephanie swallowed and gave her a bit of a forced smile. “Sorry. Its…..”
Miranda nodded. “A bit of a shock.” She finished. “Hello Stephanie, Rose.” Miranda didn’t know if she should try shaking hands or hug? what did girls do?
“Hello, Miranda.” Grace gave her a smile. “That’s a very pretty dress.”
“Uh, Thank you.” Miranda blushed. “I like your hair today, Grace.”
Grace gave a big smile and swung her multitude of braids around, small silver beads on the ends clicking together. “Thanks. My mom did it last night.”
“Miranda is going to join us today.” Sierra told the others. “We’ll need to keep her safe from the wolf pack.”
“The boys.” Grace stated. “Now that you’re one of us, you’ll find out.”
One of them? Was she accepted so quickly? She grew up with Grace and Rose. All three had gone to school and church together. Michael had even had a crush on Grace a few years ago. One that was explored at church camp one summer. She was a fantastic kisser. But it was only a camp romance. A romance that Michael had regretted ended.
“Here comes one now.” Rose indicated with her eyes.
Miranda followed her gaze and saw Brandon approaching.
The other girls looked at each other with knowing looks.
“Hi, Miran…..da.” Brandon looked dumbfounded. He looked her up and down and stared at her, “Whoah. I mean…… Wow, you look….. very ….. pretty.” He stammered.
Miranda felt her cheeks grow hot with a blush.
“Hi, Brandon.” Sierra stepped in front of Miranda a short, wide barrier of energy.
“Sierra.” Brandon acknowledged.
Grace stepped forward to the other side while Rose took up a spot on the other.
Miranda felt at odds. She had never been on this side of a girl’s comradery front. She felt a little sorry for Brandon, after all, she did ask him to come, but she also felt gratitude towards Sierra and Grace as the young women protected her.
“It’s okay, Sierra. I asked him to come today to give me moral support.
Sierra shot Miranda a look then stepped aside.
Brandon’s eyes scanned Miranda again. “Wow.” He repeated. “I’d never had known that you…. Were….”
“A Betty?” Sierra finished a little defensive.
“My friend.” Brandon finished. He shot Sierra a glare then looked back to Miranda. “Damn, Miranda, you look even prettier than you did yesterday.”
“Its time.” Stephanie looked up from her phone.
The three girls ringed her blocking Brandon out even though he was kind of part of the group as they made their way into the high school room. The room was fairly large with a tough wearing carpet and comfortable sofa’s chairs and even bean bags to lounge in. a fridge containing bottled water and different juices and teas anchored the back corner along with a long tall table that hung from the wall, backed barstools stood in front of it.
Sierra led them to a round table with padded chairs and motioned for Miranda to join them. Brandon touched the back of the one of the chairs and looked to Sierra for permission. She gave a slight nod of her head and he sat.
Jacob, the high school leader smiled as he approached with Peyton following. “Good morning, Ladies.” He greeted. “and Brandon.”
Miranda gave him a weak smile. She could tell that Peyton had spoken to Jacob. But just how much had he said. Yes, she was a ‘new’ person, but she wasn’t new.
“Miranda,” his eyes scanned her. She felt everyone’s scan of her and she understood it, Michael had done the same to people who had GASS. But it was so unnerving. Were they going to scan her every time? “Its good to see you this morning.”
She didn’t know what to say. “Thanks.” She smiled uncertain as to what she should say or do in this situation.
“Hey, Jacob.” Sierra jumped in. “We’re taking Miranda under our wings today.”
Jacob shot her a big smile. “Oh, good. Thank you, Sierra, Grace, Stephanie.” He gave each of them a smile in return. Jacob glanced at Peyton then took his comfy chair at the head of the room and began the high school bible study.
Once the class was over, they had twenty minutes before church service began.
“I was going to get coffee.” Grace announced. “Would you like one?” She looked at the small group.
At the approving nod, she asked Brandon to help her. “Just text me with your order.” Grace unconsciously swung her multiple braids around over her shoulder. as she walked with Brandon.
Stephanie gave them all a look. “See you in there.” She jumped up and headed out.
“She’s off to see her boyfriend.” Sierra stated. “Stay a moment, Miranda.” Sierra touched her hand.
“Okay.” Miranda turned to look at her acquaintance turned new friend. She watched as Sierra glanced around the room to make sure everyone else was out of ear shot.
Sierra gave Miranda a smile. “You are taking this rather well.” She stated. “Peyton said that you were a bit nervous. I can tell. You look a bit like deer in headlights, but I don’t think many of the others see it or even recognized you.”
Miranda nodded. “I am scared to death.” She admitted. “What all did Peyton tell you?”
“He asked if I’d be willing to help his little sister through her process of GASS.”
“Why you?” Miranda was puzzled.
Sierra’s face was serious as she looked around the room to make sure it was empty. “Um, I too have GASS.” She told Miranda in soft tones.
“You?” Miranda was shocked. She found herself giving Sierra the scan. “I’d ….. I’d never know. How? ……. Who?......”
Sierra gave her a smile and took a deep breath. “I haven’t admitted that in a long time.” She stated fanning her face with her hand as if flushed red. “It is still really hard to say.”
“You….?”
Sierra nodded. “I am a Betty too.” She touched Miranda’s wrist. “Please don’t tell anyone.” She pleaded. Peyton said you’d keep my secret.”
“What? but why?” Miranda asked.
“It was a difficult process for me.” Sierra stated. “I moved here only two years ago. I had a hard time where I lived before. People from my old town weren’t very understanding of us …… people with GASS. My family moved here to get a new start. I’ve worked very hard for people to accept me as just plain old Sierra and not see a Betty.”
“Peyton knows.” Miranda was trying to wrap her head around it. Sierra nodded. “What about Grace, and Stephanie?”
Sierra shook her blonde head. “No. The only people here who know are Jacob, Peyton, and Pastor…… and now you.”
“Wow.” Miranda mouthed.
“You’ll keep my secret?” Sierra looked pleadingly.
Miranda nodded.
“Thank you.” Sierra beamed. “Now, on to you.”
“Why would Peyton ask you to help me?” Miranda quiried.
“Who better to help you through the intricate details of becoming the better sex.”
“Seriously?” Miranda rolled her eyes.
“Oh, you just wait.”
“Others tell me how great it is and how I just need to wait, and stuff, but no one tells me what I’m waiting for.”
“So, how far are you in your transition.” Sierra asked.
“Oh my God, everyone is asking me that too.” Miranda scoffed.
“Its kind of important.” Sierra told her. “Has your vagina formed yet?”
Miranda shook her head.
“So, you are sexually frustrated all of the time.” Sierra chuckled knowingly.
“Oh my God, Yes.” Miranda admitted.
“Everyone experiences their gender change differently, but that one thing is a constant. Are you starting to be attracted to boys?”
Miranda made a face. “I hope not.”
Sierra giggled. “They aren’t so bad. Some of us find that our sexual preference changes, others not. Some even end up enjoying both.”
Miranda was astonished.
“Now,” Sierra became serious again. “As I said everyone goes through this differently. Some slow and gentle. Others go to sleep flat chested and wake up with double ‘d’s.” She looked down at her ample breasts. Miranda found her self doing the same. “Some go from their penis disappearing one day and having not only a vagina the next but also be on their period.”
Miranda made a face. “That’s horrible.”
“I know, Right?” Sierra too made a face. “Every once in a while, in about ten percent of GASS cases going from male to female they go through what they call the ‘heat’.”
Miranda looked confused. “The ‘heat’?”
“Right now, your insides are going nuts.” Sierra lectured. “Your testicles have been pulled inside and are transforming into your ovaries. Your penis as it disappears gets, well….. inverted and develops into your vagina. Sometimes this works from the inside out, other times from the outside in and every once in a while, they both happen at the same time meeting in the middle. Meanwhile your hormones are going crazy. We all have spent many nights crying over losing our manhood as well as sobbing over spilled milk. In that ten percent, everything happens at once and it is one of the most amazing things ever.”
“You went into ‘heat’.” Miranda scoffed, “Seriously?”
Sierra nodded. “This is serious. It is wonderful but it can be quite embarrassing.” She went on. “Your hormones start going crazy. You are turned on. Even the slightest thing can turn you on. You basically go berserk and the only way you can relieve the craziness is by having sex. The thing is…. Somethings of your changing process happen almost instantaneously.” She looked down at her bosom. In my case I was pretty flat chested and quite worried that I’d have to get breast implants to balance my body out. I ended up having sex with…….. a guy….. “She looked nervous and a little upset. “Let’s just say that by the time I was done, I had these.” She touched them proudly with her hands.
“You’re making this up,” Miranda shook her head. “There is no way something like that could happen, You’d be in too much pain.”
“That’s part of the wonder.” Sierra nodded. “I think it has to do with all of the endorphins charging through your body. It didn’t. Well, it did a little. I felt like my chest was bruised for a week or two.”
Miranda stood up and was reminded that she was wearing a dress as it brushed against her shaven legs. “Where are the camera’s.” She looked around the room. “There is no way I’m falling for this.”
Sierra grabbed Miranda’s hand getting her attention. “Honest to God.” She said absolutely serious. “I was so surprised when it happened, I started researching it. Like I said it only happens in ten percent of our cases so it isn’t talked about too much. “
Miranda looked from Sierra’s face to scan the room again. “This isn’t funny.” She stated seriously. “I’m having a hard enough time with ….. this.” She gestured at her body I don’t need to be pranked.”
Sierra stood up too. “I am serious.” She reaffirmed. “I just felt that anyone going through what we do, should know.
“You are serious.” Miranda was dumbfounded. She looked down at Sierra’s chest again. She was wearing a low-cut top clearly proud of what she was given.
“This is just the beginning.” Sierra nodded. “We need to get going or we’ll be late for service.”

“There you are.” Grace held a drink tray with coffee. “We were about to come searching for you. Is everything alright?” She looked curiously from Miranda to Sierra.
“We’re great.” Sierra’s bubbly, high energy voice was back.
Grace looked closer at Miranda.
Miranda forced a cheery smile. “I’m good. Thank you for getting the coffee. How much do I owe you?” she hoped to change the subject.
“You can get the coffee next week.” Grace told her.
The four entered the sanctuary and made their way towards the front where Stephanie and her boyfriend waited, saving seats for them.
Miranda found herself nestled in between Sierra and Grace. The girls made Brandon sit behind them.
“I’m having a pool party at my place.” Grace told Sierra and Miranda over the sound of the church band playing up beat music. “Would you two wanna come?”
Miranda didn’t know what to say. She liked Grace. At one time it was more than a like, but now everything was different.
“When is it?” Sierra asked.
“Next Friday.”
“Sounds fun.” Sierra nodded. She turned to Miranda. “You going?” she looked expectant.
“Please?” Grace’s eyes were lit
Miranda shrugged. “I’ll have to ask my parents.” She was kind of hoping that they might say no. a pool party as a girl? She didn’t even own a bathing suit.
“Pool party?” Brandon butted in. “I’m in.”
“Girls only.” Grace shot him a look that told him to mind his own business.
The music changed and voices filled the service as every rose to their feet to praise.

Miranda bit her lower lip as she sat in the Suburban on the ride home from church. “Mom?”
“Yes?” her mother answered.
“Grace has invited me and a few girls to a pool party on Friday.” She wasn’t asking to go; she was just informing them that she had been invited.
Her mother shared a look with her husband and then turned to look back at Miranda. “Sure. If you’d like to go.”
Miranda’s stomach flopped. Her parents were okay with her going and she didn’t have any excuse not to. “Well, I don’t have a bathing suit.” What was she saying? Of course, she didn’t, but why would she admit it to her parents. Now she’ll be dragged shopping again. This wasn’t getting any easier. She didn’t want to go, did she?
“Mom.” Peyton spoke up. “I can take her bikini shopping.”
Bikini? What the heck Peyton. Miranda’s mind nearly screamed. I don’t even want to go to the pool party and now you’re going to help me find a bikini? Out loud. “just a bathing suit.”
Peyton wore a huge grin on his face as he darted a look towards Miranda. “We might be able to get her a few other things while we are out.” He stated.
“What could I possibly be in need of?” Miranda looked to her brother.
Peyton winked at her.

Once home, Peyton made Miranda change out of her pretty dress. He rummaged through her closet and had her get into the denim skirt. A moment more of rummaging and he pulled out a pink tank top.
“Pink?” Miranda groaned.
“You’re a girl now, get used to it.” Peyton sat on the edge of her bed.
“Speaking of which…. Miranda began. “Sierra.”
Peyton smiled. “Yeah, what about her?”
“How did you find out that she was a Betty?”
“I was having a hard time with my changes.” Peyton explained. “She helped me.”
“She said that some Betty’s go into ‘heat’.” Miranda rolled her eyes. “She was pulling my leg, right?”
“Sierra wouldn’t lie about something like that. We Barneys don’t have that issue, but I have heard through the rumor mill that some Betty’s go through something like that.”
“Great.” Miranda scoffed. “It’ll be just my luck to be one of those few.”
“What makes you say that?” Peyton raised an eyebrow.
“Three of us in one family.” Miranda pointed out. “How are them odds?”
Peyton laughed. “Okay, you look great.” He nodded. “Now for the shoes.”
Miranda looked down at the small shoe collection she now had at the foot of her closet. “Which ones?”
Peyton heaved off of the bed and walked to the door. “Nope. Its time for you to start to suffer for your beauty.”
“What?”
“I’ll meet you down stairs.”
Miranda followed him out the door but went to the bathroom. After using the toilet, she spent a few seconds checking out her new face in the mirror. It was just so surreal. It was her there, but the makeup that Peyton had expertly applied made her look so much more. Making sure her hair still held its shape, she scampered down stairs to come face to face with her brother holding out a pair of sandals.
“I have sandals upstairs.” She scoffed.
“These are wedges.” Peyton turned the sandals to show that the sole was at an angle from where the ball of her foot was up to her heel. “They were mine.” Peyton sighed. “One of my favorite pair. I know its soon after your going full on, but you should start getting used to wearing heels and wedges are the easiest way to do that.” He handed her the footwear. “Put these on. Mom gave me her credit card. I’ll meet you in my car.”
A few minutes later Miranda carefully made her way to the car. “You want me to walk around the mall in these?”
“No time like the present.” He smiled. “Other than you looking like a baby calf taking its first steps, you look great in them.”
Miranda punched her brother in the arm. “Baby calf.”
“Hey now. I’m just trying to help my little sister out.” Peyton protested. “We have that wedding coming up soon. You’ll most likely have to wear heels there, so this is training.” He explained. “These shoes for a few days then we can get you trying to wear real heels which is one of the things we will be shopping for today….. along with a few things that you need to purchase when your mother isn’t around.”
Miranda looked at him quizzically.
“Lingerie, sexy outfits, and bikinis.”
“Swim suit. No bikinis.” Miranda was stern. “I’m not even ready for skirts, heels and dresses and you want to put me in a bikini?”

After some finagling and promises, the store clerk allowed Peyton into the dressing room while Miranda tried on what seemed like hundreds of bathing suits. And to her disgust a few of them were bikinis. It wasn’t the bikini tops that bothered her. She had up to just a few short months ago walked around shirtless. It was the bottoms. Guys always wore baggy long shorts, covering way more than they needed to. Bikini bottoms not only covered very little, they left very little to the imagination and her butt cheeks were not covered at all. It was very disconcerting.
The suits with the frilly bits added were quickly discarded, as too anything pink. She may be a girl now and she was wearing a pink tank top, but she did not feel right in a pink swim suit. A lot of the one-piece suits were nearly as bad as the bikinis with how much they revealed.
“Didn’t realize what a prude you are.” Peyton swallowed a laugh when Miranda glared at him.
In the end they compromised. A two-piece suit with a boy shorts style bottoms and a top that was border line too revealing even for Miranda. Then came the sticker shock. They wanted how much for two tiny pieces of fabric? It was insane. Peyton however, calmly told her that swim suits cost that much and more. It was just the way it was.
Three pairs of heels, a skin tight dress that hugged every one of Miranda’s curves making her feel borderline uncomfortable, at least until she studied herself in the mirror, and some ‘pretty’ undergarments later, Peyton seemed satisfied.
“Now. The part that may seem tedious at first but you will probably learn to love.” He lectured. “Is that you’ll need to shop for clothes at least once per month.”
“Seriously?” Miranda scoffed. “will I really have to go through that once a month?”
Peyton nodded as they got into his car. “Ugly Betty’s probably go three times a year, but girls…… young ladies, shop at least once per month.”
Miranda’s mind flashed back to the ‘ugly betty’s’ at school and shivered. She may have been dealt a less than desirable lot in getting GASS, but she did not want to be an ‘Ugly Betty’.
“Call mom and see if she needs anything from the store.” Peyton instructed as they left the parking lot.
Peyton waited in the car while she ran into the market to grab cilantro and a fresh tomato. She was very conscious of the looks that people were giving her. Mostly the boys and men. She felt very self-conscious and exposed. Then it hit her, this was the first time she had been in public alone, as a girl.
“Can I help you out to your car with those, miss?” a guy asked.
Miranda was confused. It was only two small items that she could hold in one hand. She looked startled at the guy who seemed to be scanning her in a different way than those who scanned ‘Bettys’.
“I think I can manage.” She said icily.
The guy put up his hands. “Okay, okay, no need to go all ice queen on me.” He stepped back.
Miranda’s face heated as she turned to leave. She could feel the guy’s leering eyes all over her backside as she quickened her step.
“Can you believe that?” She finished relating the event to her brother.
Peyton frowned. “Unfortunately, I can.” He shot her an understanding look. “There are creeps out there whose mothers never taught them how to treat a lady. I’m sorry, little sis, but those are the few down sides to being a girl. You however, handled it exactly like you should.”

When they had returned home. Miranda was startled to find a full-length mirror in her bedroom.
“What’s this for?” She asked Peyton.
“For you to see what you look like before you go out.” Peyton grinned. “Of course, there’s the possibility that you’ll break it.”
Miranda swung at her brother but expecting it, he jumped back.
“Miranda, I could use your help with dinner.” Her mother called up.
“What?” Miranda shot Peyton a confused look.
“You’re a girl now.” He kept his voice low. “You’ll be expected to help with the cooking and cleaning now.”
“Ugh.” She growled with disgust. She pitched her volume up. “Coming, mom.” She dumped her new purchases on her bed and slipped out of the wedges her brother had insisted that she wear and tossed them at him in his room.
Laughing, Peyton called out. “You got the hang of those down quick. If you really want to get good, you should wear one of your new pairs around the house to break them in and to get used to them so you won’t look like a baby horse.”

Her mother set her to work, chopping up the cilantro, tomatoes, and onions. She would have been more upset about the additional work and the gender role she was being pressed into, but it was taco night. Taco night was always a good night. As she worked, she told her mother what had happened to her in the market. Her mother listened with understanding and agreed with Peyton that she had reacted correctly.
Her mother stopped what she was doing and looked at Miranda. “You just make sure that you understand that you did nothing wrong to bring on that kind of behavior. There are just some bad men in this world.”
“That’s pretty much what Peyton told me.” She nodded at her mother. She looked away and down at her body, “I didn’t think this outfit was sexy. Its just a skirt and a tank top.”
“It doesn’t matter what you are wearing to ass holes like that.” Her mother told her. “Men, no Animals like that would say that or worse if you were wearing a snow parka.”
“I never did any of that when I was…. When I was a guy.” She finished softly.
“Its because you are…. Were a good young man who had good role models in your father and brother.”
Miranda found herself shrugging. Thinking back to being Michael, he had never looked at girls the way that lecher had. Sure, as Michael he had admired a pretty girl, long curvy legs, a tight well-formed butt, beautiful cleavage, but never as if they were a piece of meat, or property.

“Okay,” her mom began as they finished their lovely dinner of tacos. “Miranda helped me make dinner, Peyton, you’re on dish duty.”
Miranda grinned at her brother with a gratified gleam in her eye then padded upstairs. Curious, she pulled out a pair of her new shoes and slipped the three-inch heels on. Her ankle started to twist as she put weight on it. The thinner structure of the heel seemed to make a big difference. She carefully made her way around her room putting her new items of clothing away. She wondered what it would be like wearing the silk and lace lingerie. Would it feel different from her current underwear? She hung up the curve hugging dress towards the back of the closet, she didn’t think there would be much of a call for wearing that one.
“How’s it going sis?” Peyton asked poking his head in the door.
Miranda shrugged. “Everything still feels so surreal.”
“That is one of the reasons why I asked dad to bring you in the mirror.” Peyton stepped in. “May I?” he gestured towards the bed.
Miranda nodded.
Peyton sat and patted the bed next to him. Miranda sat down across from the mirror.
“Now don’t laugh or scoff at me on this.” He looked at her seriously. “I was having difficulties while I was going through my change and my shrink had me do this exercise.” He paused to make sure she was paying attention.”
“You had difficulties?” Miranda asked. “I thought you embraced this whole thing with out problems….. well other than your anger.”
Peyton shook his head and sighed. “I was daddy’s little girl. I was mom’s princess. I was a ballerina, and a cheerleader. I loved playing dress up……. Well, I still love that, but now its different. It’s like I told you, I miss dresses, and makeup. I miss newly shaved legs in fresh bed sheets.” Peyton’s eyes drifted from Miranda’s face to her chest. “I miss my breasts. I do miss being a girl.”
The room fell silent. Miranda touched her brother’s arm lovingly.
Peyton took a deep breath, flexed the muscles in his neck, back and arms. “But that has nothing to do with you, and you are the one who is of primary importance right now.” He gave her arm a squeeze and stood next to the mirror. “Go ahead and stand up in front of the mirror. Remember don’t scoff. This really did help me.”
Miranda stood, her eyes darting between her, not too familiar, reflection and her brother.
“One of the things that is hindering you, and it hinders us all, is that you still feel like you are a boy in a girl’s body.” He stated. “Everything feels as you said, surreal, alien, strange.”
Miranda nodded.
“Every day, you need to spend time looking in this mirror.” Peyton instructed. “Study yourself, every part of yourself. The way your eyes light up when you smile. The new curves and shape of your body; how it feels, how it reacts. It feels really strange at first, but you need to see yourself as Miranda, not as Michael becoming Miranda. You ‘are’ Miranda now. Start off while dressed, but make sure you do so while naked. You are a very beautiful young lady now. You need to know that here.” He pointed to his brain. “Here.” He pointed to his heart. “and to the depth of your bones.”
Miranda swallowed hard. It was like mourning a part of her, letting Michael go. She nodded.
“At least ten to twenty minutes a day.” Peyton stepped away from the mirror. “And it’s okay to practice smiles, glares, flirtations, mannerisms and dance moves.” He ended with a big smile. “We all do it.”

Miranda’s heart was pounding in her chest. It was stupid, she knew, but it still did what it did.
They were a few blocks away from Sierra’s house.
“Are you okay?” her mother asked.
“Yes.” Miranda didn’t sound convincing.
Her mother shot her a knowing look. “They are already friends from church.”
Her mother’s pep talk as they continued didn’t help too much but she did appreciate it.
Miranda took a deep breath, then another before she knocked on the door. She could hear people laughing and talking, splashing and having fun coming from the back yard.
“Miranda’s here!” Sierra called out. “Get in here, girl.” She pulled Miranda into the house. The plump short blonde pulled Miranda through the house and out onto the back patio.
“Hey Miranda!” Grace called. She lay on a lounge chair soaking in the sun. Miranda felt very self-conscious seeing Grace’s dark skin set off by the white skimpy bikini.
“There’s a bathroom in the cabana over there. Change into your suit.” Sierra pointed. “What are you drinking? We have sodas, tea. Rose brought a cucumber/lime water.”
“Uh, I’m fine.” Miranda looked around at all of the commotion. Several guys were splashing around at one end of the pool. Rose and another girl lounged on air beds at the other end. Rose’s bright yellow sports cut two-piece set off her olive skin as well.
“Everyone!” Sierra called. Many of the people stopped what they were doing. “This is Miranda. Be nice, she’s new.”
Miranda knew she was blushing. She managed a smile and a small wave.
Wearing her swim suit under her clothes, she peeled off her outer layer and folded them before tucking them in her duffle. Sierra stuck her head in the door and scanned Miranda. “Holy smokes, girl. You look fantastic.”
“Really?” Miranda questioned.
“Your first time in a bathing suit in public?” She asked.
Miranda nodded. She looked at Sierra’s blue one-piece with palm leaves. The suit looked good on Sierras abundant curves.
“Nothing to be nervous about.” Sierra told her.
“Did you see how great Grace and Rose look?” Miranda gestured out to the pool
“And you.” Sierra stated. “You look amazing. Serious. Did Peyton help you pick that out?”
Miranda nodded.
“Come on. Let’s go get some drinks.” Sierra urged. “Make sure you show them some hip action.”
Miranda stayed close to Sierra and Grace during the party. It was interesting and a bit strange not being one of the guys splashing around in the pool. She did enjoy laying on the lounge chairs and listening to the girls’ gossip. The cucumber lime water was refreshing on the sunny day.
After the boys left, Miranda joined the girls in a more relaxing afternoon of food, giggling, gossip and pampering one’s self.
Miranda hugged Sierra goodbye and waved to Grace and Rose.
“I take it you had a good time?” her mother asked.
Miranda smiled at her mom. “yes,” it came out as an embarrassed whisper. She looked down at her feet. Her toes now polished a cherry blossom pink to match her finger nails. She tucked her feet and hid her hands under her arms. It was embarrassing. Michael would have died from embarrassment. Miranda, although nervous about her family seeing her wearing polish secretly felt exhilarated.

Miranda, towel wrapped around her body, closed her bedroom door behind her and locked it. She let the towel cascade from her body and lifted it to squeeze yet more water from her hair. She tentatively padded over to stand in front of the floor length mirror. Why was she so nervous? She had followed her brother’s advice and done this several times already. Was it because she planned to do it naked this time? Does it really matter that she was bare? Michael had seen his bare body plenty of times. ‘And That’, she thought was exactly why she needed to do this. She was Miranda. Michael was gone.
“I am Miranda.” She whispered aloud to herself. She lifted her chin and her eyes locked onto those of her reflection. “I am Miranda.” She repeated with a little more certainty. Her eyes darted to her chest where her breasts were becoming less alien, then back to her eyes. She lowered the towel from her hair and tossed it into the laundry hamper. She then looked to the mound of hair between her legs. The fact that there was no longer a penis or testicles there was not as frightening, it had been a long gradual loss of those. She looked back into her eyes. “I am Miranda.” She affirmed.
While in the shower, she noticed that it felt different between her legs. She had probed with her fingers and realized that her vagina had been forming. A Thrill had coursed through her body at both the physical but also the emotional pleasure that her touch had brought.
“I am Miranda.” she watched as her fingers lightly caressed the outline of her curves, her breasts, to her abdomen, tracing her hips and to her genitals. “I am Miranda.” She repeated. Her hand ran back over her silky skin to her new shaped buttocks. She turned to the side and looked over her shoulder at them. She’d have to start doing squats to keep them looking so firm. Her eyes rose to her tiny little bump of an abdomen and then to the side view of her breasts. They were well shaped and nearly proportioned to her body. ‘Maybe a cup larger would be nice’ the thought was fleeting.
Miranda sat down on the edge of her bed and continued to study herself in the mirror.
She covered a giggle with hand as she realized that she was flirting. She felt silly, but if Peyton was right, this is how girls became so good at sending so much information with a look. She tried looking over her shoulder and winking. She nearly bust a gut laughing, that was so cheesy. She tried it again, this time slowing it down. ‘Holy shit’ she might be on to something. It was a bit of a bold statement, but she’d have to start somewhere. She practiced that look for a few minutes before she sighed and turned to face the mirror again. She thought back to how Grace moved and reacted to the boys at the pool party. One of her looks was absolutely amazing. Miranda began trying different looks, pouts, and other facial expressions.
“I look like I have Tourettes.” She ridiculed.
Miranda dug a night gown out of a drawer and slipped it on. It was one of the items that Peyton had insisted that she get. She was glad now that he did. The silkiness of the fabric felt luxurious against her skin. She combed her hair, using the mirror to make sure her part was right before drying it. She’d have to fix it in the morning, but that wouldn’t be too difficult.
She unlocked her door, plugged in her phone and slipped into bed. Looking around her room, she felt a little sad. She had been working so hard on imprinting Miranda on herself that she hadn’t even thought about her room. The room belonged to Michael. She was Miranda, and it didn’t fit. Little league and Pop Warner trophies lined shelves along with ribbons and certificates. Pictures of Michael’s dream car, friends, and memories of trips made a collage on the wall over his desk. Mouse ears from his Disney trip, Michael’s name stitched into it were pinned to the wall.
This was someone else’s room. She, Miranda, would have to make it ‘her’ room. The thought of that kind of change, that kind of purging of memories made her think of Lucas, her brother. God, how she missed Lucas. She could never think of him as Laura. He would always be her big brother. The brother that at one time Michael wanted to emulate and now, Miranda mourned. She pulled a pillow into her chest and cried herself to sleep thinking about missing her big brother.