She paused, aghast at a sudden thought. "You're not a cheerleader, are you?"

"No," I said. "Never have been, never will be."

"Oh, good!" she cried, with obvious and immense relief. "I mean... not that there's anything wrong with cheerleaders!"

White Satin

By Melanie Ezell

She was finally ready.

It had taken more than thirty years to correct God's little mix-up, but it was worth it. She still wasn't perfect, the severe cut of her dress working to hide the few traces of masculinity she'd never be rid of, but if he loved her as is, she could live with a few flaws.

As her march started, she donned her veil, and stepped out the door.

LISA’S DREAM -4- (Conclusion)

By Susan Heywood

Robert Pemberton answers an advertisement in a contact magazine. The resulting changes to his life are the stuff of dreams.

Part 4

An authorized story, based on the characters and environment of A New Style of Education by Karen Page.

Daniel is just your ordinary average teenage boy. Or is he? What started out as an ordinary summer day quickly becomes a journy of self discovery and change.

I was grabbed from behind, a hand being clapped over my mouth before I could even scream. I struggled to get free but it was no use.

‘Well, Chambers, I see it’s true that you’ve gone all potty. Hey, that’s funny–potty Chambers, or p’raps it should be Chamber potty!’ He gave out a guffaw of mocking laughter. I recognised the voice instantly as belonging to the bullying oaf, Quinn, and I burst into tears. ‘My mate, Kev Ball, ’phoned and told me you were pretending to be a girlie an’ ’ad got him grounded f’ra month, an’ ’e also said you were gonna to meet his stoopid sister at Angela Williamson’s house s’afternoon.’ Suddenly I became very aware that some other person–I presumed a boy–had put a hand up my skirt and his fingers were exploring my body through the thin cotton material of my knickers. Thank goodness I was wearing a sanitary pad––!

My first thought’s had been relief that I was still alive and the burning desire to call the police and report the rape. The longer I sat and considered it though the idea of what that would result in was somewhat unappealing. No one except Eddie, my mother and of course William knew my secret.

Reporting the incident would open up a whole can of worms, some that I did not want to escape.

I felt like a pregnant woman. I held my stomach (which felt enormous) with both hands, and took small, waddling steps toward the kitchen. With every step, I let out a little grunt, groan, or whimper.