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Marjorie seemed convinced that despite physical evidence, I was really a girl and would only be happy if I admitted it.

“Don’t you think I’d know that if it were true?” I told her. “I’m not someone on an afternoon agony show, I’m just a skinny nerd boy who apparently is easily talked into things.”

“You could show a little enthusiasm, maybe?” Marjorie sounded a bit annoyed.

“I’m supposed to be enthusiastic about this? I’ve just managed to get past being so scared I wanted to throw up!” I told her.