Every day, all the time it seemed, the guys just made fun of me. Sure I was smart, but I was small, smaller than most of them. It was terrible, as they turned into men, I seemed to stay behind, with my soft hairless features. And puberty, well that didn’t seem to be happening either.

So the guys called me names, fag, sissy, you know them all. I was always the last one picked for sports teams in gym class, and when we were in the locker room I had nowhere to turn. After all, they took the good lockers and I ended up in the middle of the room where they could, and definitely did, make fun of me. Especially my thingy, it never grew, and they noticed and pointed and laughed.

It didn’t help that I had long hair, long lashes, and gentle fingers. And I was friends with a lot of the girls, not the guys. I liked them, not the way the guys did, but as a friend, and they treated me as a girlfriend. I would go with to school dances, as the extra. I wasn’t a threat, and all I wanted was to be one of them. They were so pretty, had all the nice hair and makeup, and guys treated them nicely. At least a lot of the guys. Me, I was just the pathetic wimp in the corner.

Mom knew how much I worried about not growing up more manly, shall we say. She knew and always said things will work out. She said I should relax, and not worry. “Men weren’t that great,” she said. “Remember your dad, he was so rough, I still don’t know why I married him.”

She always said that I wouldn’t grow up to be like him. I believed her. She cared for me, always gave me bubble baths, let me grow my hair, and even wear some of the hand me downs from my cousins, who were a year or two older, but so pretty. Oh were they pretty, and their stuff was pretty too and it smelled nice. Plus, she said wearing their hand me downs saved us money, which she used to buy special vitamins. She used to say that these were so much better than the Flintstone ones, and would help me grow up “right.”

And she said I was cute too, not to worry what the boys said about me. “One day,” she used to say, “they will like you.” She promised and mom never broke a promise.

So I took the vitamins, wore the hand me downs and over time, I noticed that I was growing a bit, but not like the boys. I seemed sensitive up top and my skin was soft, my hair shiny and the hand-me-downs fit so well. Even if they had a few girly embellishments. Mom never seemed to get me anything from the boys departments, she even said the glasses I wore were cute, even though they were from the girls section of the store. I trusted her.

Then one day, Mark came over after school. He was different from the other boys, He treated me nice, maybe because I was smart and helped him with science, especially biology, and we were learning all about human sexuality. He was sweet, and he used to drop things and then pick them up and stare into my face. It felt nice.

Finally, I told mom that my chest was growing out and it wasn’t like the other boys grew. I asked why and she finally told me that the vitamins were female hormones, which were prescribed by Dr. Myers, the special doctor she took me too, who always asked about my body and stuff. The pills were making me into a girl, like mom, and she said one day I would thank her.

Then about a week later mom said that my chest needed support and she gave me a bra. I just stared, it was Cousin Marsha’s old pink one with frilly sides, a size 34A. It fit perfectly, and felt so right. She said it fit perfectly, showed off my body, and instead of calling me Al, she called me Allison, and hugged me.

Coincidentally, or so she said, that night mom had invited Mark and his parents over for dinner. His parents and mom finished and went outside and we went up to my room. When I put my phone down, I turned around and there was Mark, smiling. He said, Al, you are so pretty and your mom told me all about you. As a boy, you were always the cutest nerd but it’s clear you’re turning into a pretty girl and I want to be there for you. He asked me to close my eyes, I did. And then I felt the warmth of his lips on mine and his hands gently on my tush. My body tingled. I guess mom was right.