Something Feels Strange…

Chris is your average good teenage boy.  He has a wonderful girlfriend, is an avid runner, and near the top of his class in school.  He leads a well ordered life and he likes it that way.  Things are going good until...

 

Chapter 1:  Panic!

Something feels strange.

Something is not right.

The last thing that I was aware of, I was in bed: drifting off to sleep after another challenging day of school, homework, running practice, and dealing with parents who don’t really remember what it was like to be a teenager. Add to my list of woes the unexplained problem that my girlfriend was too busy to spend time with me today.

Don’t get me wrong, I think life is good. It’s just difficult.

My one consolation is that it is Friday night, looking at a weekend without anything particular to do. Maybe I can sleep in, get in a good run, then spend time with my girlfriend. If I can find her.

Anyway, back to the present. Something is out of place. I’m pretty sure it is me.

Why? You ask; because it is obviously the middle of the night and here I am standing in the middle of the Junior’s section at the local big box department store where my older sister, Marla, works after school and on weekends. You know the kind of store. It covers a couple of acres and has everything: food, clothes, hardware, house wares, furniture, etc. I am all by myself. I am also still in my pajamas. To top it all off, I don’t know how I got here. I am just here.

The store is lit dimly by the night security lights and everything is deathly still. I figure that I am in big trouble if a member of the night crew, a security guard, or a janitor shows up. This realization greatly elevates my anxiety level. I would expect some night time employees restocking everything but I don’t hear anything. I figure that this is a good thing. Maybe I am alone.

You see, I am the type of kid who really likes staying out of trouble. I figure that life is a lot more enjoyable if you’re not wasting time trying to dig yourself out of a hole. I get nervous just crossing the street, afraid that if I don’t stay precisely within the lines some policeman will write me up for jaywalking. So, to be caught in a store–after hours–where I am not supposed to be and without a good explanation as to why I’m here causes me major trauma.

Not only that, but getting caught wearing only pajamas would be very embarrassing. Particularly wearing these pajamas! Any guy would like to hide the fact that he still wears Sponge Bob pajamas at the advanced age of sixteen.

If that was all, my anxiety level would only reach the level of ‘nervous wreck’. Unfortunately, taking me to ‘near panic’ level is the fact that I am surrounded by girl’s clothing. Some of it of the “intimate” variety. Like all men everywhere (young and old alike), I find that visits to the girl’s clothing section of any store is like walking into uncomfortable foreign territory. Men only go there when dragged there by a female relative or girlfriend. It is never a comfortable place. In fact it is quite unsettling. Most of us are happy to stay just outside the region, or at least in the major aisles, while trying hard to not to look like we are checking out the strange and personal items that are so much a part of the female existence.

After checking out and cataloging the unexpected external environment, the “feeling strange” issue now comes to the fore. I am used to being pretty light. Running up to 15 miles a day, I am a lean 135 lbs while being six feet tall. I don’t have any fat. None at all. Unfortunately, right now I am feeling a bit more padded. And in strange places. I’m a bit shorter too, or everything else suddenly got a little bit bigger. Hair is tickling my ears and neck, which is odd since I had a crew cut when I went to bed this evening. This is strange indeed!

I am beginning to get a very bad feeling about this situation. I’m in the wrong place, at the wrong time, wearing the wrong clothes, and having problems with my body. So I my anxiety level is definitely at ‘near panic’. But only for a few minutes.

Now I hear footsteps! Not just any footsteps, put the clicking of women’s heels on the hard floor. I am now in ‘full panic’ mode and thinking that it is time to hide.

Taking a closer look at the clothes racks around me, I see several circular racks holding long skirts on one side and racks of lingerie on the other. Thinking quick, it looks as if the best hiding place is behind the skirts. Lingerie just doesn’t provide enough coverage.

After ducking behind the rack of skirts, I hope that whoever is here will soon move on so that I can figure out how to get out of here without any trouble. It is a good thing that whoever is out there is wearing heels so I can keep track of where they are.

Unfortunately, the footsteps are coming my way. They don’t seem to be in any hurry either. As they get closer, my heart is in my throat. I really don’t want to be caught.

The footsteps stop just on the other side of the rack. I am caught. I just know it. Unfortunately I don’t have a good excuse for being there. As a matter of fact, I don’t know how or why I am here. What am I going to say?

Things revert to deathly still for a few minutes. Why won’t she just go away? My heart is beating so wildly I can hear it. Maybe she hears it too. The beating sounds like those Japanese drummers that my girlfriend and I went to see last weekend. If it doesn’t stop soon, I think that I will be in cardiac arrest.

“Chris,” a very familiar voice calls out, “we have a lot to do. Come out from wherever you are hiding!”

A mixture of surprise and relief hits me as I realize that the woman on the other side of the rack is none other than my girlfriend, Laurie. But how does she know that I am here? Why is she here? Why does it seem that she thinks that this nothing out of place?

“Laurie?” I enquire as I slowly stand up. “You scared the crap out of me! Do you know what's going on? Why are we here and why do I feel strange? And, most importantly, how do we get out of here without getting caught? I want to leave like, right now!” Being in ‘near panic’ mode, it barely registers in my mind that something is wrong with my voice. I have more pressing matters to worry about, like how to get out of here!

“Whoa! One question at a time!” she says. “How about starting with the feeling strange part?”

“How about starting with the ‘let’s get out of here’ part then dealing with the’ feeling strange’ part?” I suggest.

She looks at me with an easy grin on her face, “Well it is the ‘feeling strange’ part which is the reason for being here, so I think that you should start with that. Anyway don’t worry about getting caught. That won’t happen. It is just you and me… for now. So relax. We are safe.”

Now I am really confused!

“Come with me”, she requests then turns to walk over to the changing rooms. In a state of total confusion, I follow her. She looks like she knows what she is doing so I just go along for the ride. My anxiety level drops back down to ‘nervous wreck’ but I still think we should find a graceful way to get out of here as soon as possible. I am keeping my eyes open for someone official to nab us.

The walk is not a long one, but the movement involved really highlights the ‘feeling strange’ problem. Things don’t feel right. My center of gravity appears to be off and my chest seems to be having some problems with flab. Something about my crotch does not seem right. I also find that Laurie and I are now around the same height which seems strange since last time I saw her I was a good four inches taller than her.

Arriving at the dressing room area, Laurie stands me in front of a full length mirror. In the mirror I see two girls who could be sisters. One dressed ready for a night on the town and the other wearing oversized boy’s pajamas. It takes me a couple of seconds to realize that the pajama-clad one is me! The anxiety level is now back up to ‘full panic’. The scream that ensues seems somehow appropriate. I am lucky to not pass out.

A thousand questions flash through my brain as I try to get my mind around what I am seeing. The girl in pajamas is clearly the younger sibling of the other, but not by much. The family resemblance is strong. They are both fairly tall–for girls–have strawberry blonde hair and big green eyes. Laurie, the older one, has a wonderful figure accentuated by the form fitting dress that she is wearing. The loose pajamas on the other girl–who must be me–make it difficult to see what the body looks like, but it obviously the body of a young teen girl. Laurie has long, well maintained, straight hair that extends to the middle of her back while the other girl’s hair appears to be shoulder length and motley. She really could use some time in a salon.

Laurie was right, the ‘feeling strange’ part seems to make the ‘let’s get out of here’ part seem a bit insignificant. All I can do is stare at the younger girl knowing that she is me, but not able to mentally make the connection between her and me. I am staring at a stranger.

Just so that you know, I have always considered myself to be an average boy. I like girls, sports, macho movies, male ‘rituals’ and not sweating the details. I have always considered social grace to be over rated. I spit, fart occasionally, and am generally insensitive. I don’t like long involved relationship chats and am mightily confused by all the intricacies of human relations. I don’t even want to know the intricacies of human relations! Like most teenage boys–and some adult men–I am pretty brain dead when it comes to noticing the world around me. I only focus on the things that interest me. I am a typical boy, and I really like it that way. I mean that I REALLY like being a boy.

To find myself suddenly female is such a foreign concept that I can't really get a hold of it. Having a mother, two sisters, and a girlfriend I am not totally uneducated about females. However, my perspective on female life has, up to now, been that of a stranger looking in from the outside. The extent of my research has been to try to figure out how to keep them relatively happy so that we can peaceably coexist. Like most males, my research had yet to yield many useful insights. None of my research was even remotely slanted towards trying to figure out how to BE a girl!

To say that I felt like a fish out of water would be an understatement. Heck, up to this point in my life I had yet to actually see a real live bare female breast or the anatomy found under a woman’s skirt. My hands have never wandered to these mysterious regions of female anatomy. Like I said, I was a good boy and followed my parent’s advice–mostly–to avoid porn and to treat girls and women with enough respect so as to not violate their privacy.

So to find myself on the other side of the gender fence is an extremely traumatic experience. As my mind struggles to get a handle on what it is seeing I must have just frozen up after the initial shock.

“Chris? Chris? Hey Chris! Are you in there?”

It has become apparent that Laurie is trying to get my attention. I turn to look at her, keeping one eye on the mirror.

“Chris. Snap out of it girl! As I said, we have a lot to do.”

“Whoa! Girl? Did you just call me GIRL?” I ask as her comments began to seep into my brain, “What is going on!?”

“Well… sweetie, as you can see in the mirror, you are now a girl,” she explains patiently, “If the mirror is not enough, try lifting your shirt and dropping your pants. I think that you will find that you are now configured a bit differently than you were earlier. Go ahead, try it.”

Back to ‘full panic’ mode we go! She is asking me to do something that is totally against my good boy character. Good boys do NOT go around looking at naked women! After all, I did not attain the Eagle rank in Boy Scouting by being disrespectful or perverted. Don’t get me wrong, like any hormone rich young man, I have always been curious, but good training had made such things so taboo that the thought of what Laurie is suggesting is just beyond me. I think that she saw the panic in my eyes.

“Chris, get a grip. I know this must be a real shock but you are now a girl and you will need to be familiar with your body because you will have to live in it and take care of it for a long time. So… strip!”

WHAT!?!?!?!? my mind screams. What is this talk about being like this for a long time? Hey, I haven't quite related that girl in the mirror to me just yet and now she is talking about this being a long term arrangement!

“Laurie. Whoa! Whoa! Back up a minute. What do you mean ‘for a long time’? ”

“I’ll explain that later, Chris." she says. "First things first. I need you to take your clothes off so that I can take a few measurements. No worries. After all it’s just us girls here. You don’t have anything that I don’t see every day.”

“Ah… But I now have things that I have never seen," I point out. "And I am not sure that I am ready to see them now.”

“Chris, I said to not worry about being caught" she says displaying a little impatience. "That is true if we get moving with the task at hand, but we don’t have unlimited time. So get with the program and get out of those clothes.”

Did I mention that Laurie can be a bit bossy at times?

“Ah… so what is the task at hand?” I ask in confusion. Things are still not adding up. There are a LOT of missing pieces in this puzzle.

“Our first task is to outfit you with a basic wardrobe before morning.” She states as if it is obvious. “You can’t go to school Monday morning in boy clothes and you must be ready to present yourself as any other teen girl. That means more than a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. The first step is to get undressed; then I can take a few measurements so we can find your sizes. We only have about four hours to get this done, which not nearly enough time. So, if you please…” she waves her hand at my current attire as if she expects me to take it off.

“Laurie, tell me again why are we are here doing this? “

“I never said why," she responds. "We don’t have time for the full explanation and a partial one won’t do. Just suffice it to say that your safety and the safety of others is a major part of the reason. You’ll have to trust me on this one.”

“Uh… I’m not so sure about this” I point out to someone who apparently doesn't care.

“It doesn’t matter what you are sure of right now" she says, impatience clearly evident on her face. "What is is what is. You can’t do anything about it right now. I am here to help you and what you need most of all right now is to get your wardrobe together. And it needs to be done tonight. So move it!”

Okay… so what would you do at this point? For me it is pretty obvious that explanations are not forth coming so I figure that I need to trust her as requested–after all she IS my girlfriend and someone that I have learned to trust.

Feeling extremely embarrassed about undressing in front of my girlfriend, I step towards a dressing room to do this discretely.

“Uh… Chris?" she asks. "Where are you going? I’m going to have to see you naked whether out here or in a small dressing room. It will be easier out here.”

Stopping, I turn my back on both Laurie and the mirror. I don’t want to get undressed in front of the other girl either. So–you are thinking–the other girl is me, but my mind has not caught up with that idea yet.

Unbuttoning the shirt, I start to open it. Looking down at my chest I get my first ever view of naked female breasts. Up close and very personal. I quickly close the shirt back up again and slam my eyes shut. My face turns a bright scarlet and I am in serious danger of hyperventilating.

“I have breasts!” escapes from my lips.

“Chris… Get used to it. Keep moving” she says.

“But Laurie, they're girl’s breasts!" I whine. "I am not supposed to be looking at topless girls!”

“That rule only applied when you were a boy. They are hard to avoid if you are a girl” she points out.

“What happened to me?!?!?!” I ask. It is obvious to me that Laurie knows a lot more than she has been sharing.

“Again… it is a long story but we need to save it for later. How about we try this a different way? Why don’t you just keep your eyes closed for now and I’ll undress you and take the required measurements?”

That idea seems better, but I still feel out of place thinking it will be embarrassing for me to be naked in front of her, still not grasping the concept that what she will be seeing is nothing all that unusual for her. I hesitate.

“Come on,” she says. “I’ll make it quick.”

“All right” I finally concede. My anxiety level is down to ‘extremely nervous’ now, which allows my mind to wander away from of survival mode.

Closing my eyes tightly and keeping my hands from wandering to areas they have been trained to avoid I submit myself to the careful ministrations of my unusually calm girlfriend. The thought hits me that, given the situation, perhaps I should be thinking of Laurie as my ‘girl friend’ instead of my ‘girlfriend’.

This new thought really hits me hard.

We have been dating for almost eight months now. It started in the first week of the new school year. I was sitting at a bench in an introduction to electronics course on the opening day of class when this very cute girl walks in looking definitely out of place in the all male class. It was apparent that she's quite nervous so the instructor asked her if she is lost. She showed him her class list and he told her to find a seat. About the only seat open in the classroom was on the other side of my work bench so she took it. Later in the day I found that she was also in my band class (I play the trumpet and she the flute) and my math (pre-calculus) class. As she's a year ahead of me in school she seems a bit out of my league. Heck, I am very tongue tied around non-relative girls anyway. It turns out that she struggled with the electronics and math classes so I offered to help. Before too long I found myself walking her home after school to study. We end up on our first official date about six weeks after school started (Hey… I’m cautious!). After the big first date not a single day has gone by without us being together at some time. That is until earlier today. (Or was it yesterday? I just realized that I don’t have a clue as to what time it is.)

We have kept our relationship completely with the accepted limits. A lot of necking, but the hands have not strayed. For either one of us. We talked about taking our relationship to the next level, but we both decided that we were not ready for the deep emotional ties that getting physically intimate causes. We have watched sex mess up several of our peers in recent years–both physically and emotionally. We don’t want the baggage, so we have been close but have taken the physical side of our relationship slowly.

I really like having Laurie for a girlfriend. She is soft, warm, caring and willing to let me do some of the guy things that I like to do without complaining about neglect. She has a life of her own as well. We have developed a special bond that we both feel has the potential to turn into true love, if we don’t do anything to screw it up.

For example, my turning into a girl would screw things up.

Given Laurie’s calmness I figure that either she knows this condition of mine is short term or she is not as committed to our possible future as I thought she might be. Given her earlier statement about taking care of this body ‘for a long time’ tends to cause me to lean to the second conclusion.

That hurts.

Another potential alternative is that she is into girls. I’m pretty sure it's not that either because she is treating this as a business venture. So I’m back to the lack of commitment idea.

It still hurts.

While my mind is trying to get grasp on my relationship, Laurie is busy taking my pajamas off me. First the shirt goes then the pants. Commenting on the lack of appeal of male apparel, she pulls my jockey shorts off too. Just as well. The male underwear is feeling uncomfortable in ways that I would never have guessed before tonight.

Laurie finds a measuring tape somewhere nearby and starts measuring me.

“How’s it going?” a new and very familiar voice suddenly asks, returning me to 'extreme panic' mode.

My eyes snap open and I scream again. Finding another convenient clothes rack, I start to dive for cover. Laurie is quick. She catches me by the arm in mid launch.

“What is she doing here!” I squeak, looking first at my older sister Marla then desperately for something to cover up with. She is wearing running shoes, which accounts for her stealthy approach.

“For that matter, what are we doing here!?” I ask again.

“Marla works here, remember?” Laurie reminds me. “She will help us find what we need much quicker than we can ourselves. Not to mention that she has lots of experience helping other women and girls with their clothing selections. Not only that, but she can ring up the sale.”

“Some clothes would be real nice right now” I point out. “It is more than embarrassing standing naked in the middle of a department store in the middle of the night in the presence of my girlfriend and my sister.”

Marla smirks as she mentions, “Oh, and our mothers will be in after parking around behind the building.”

'Please earth, just open up and swallow me whole,' I silently plead to whatever higher power might be listening. 'Oh… and do it quick.' What did I do to deserve this?

“Okay, Marla, are you ready to take down her measurements?” Laurie asks, getting back to business.

“Sure… measure away!” my grinning sister replies happily. I think that she is enjoying this more than she should.

“Well," starts Laurie, "so far I have found that Chris’s hips are thirty-six inches, waist twenty-four inches, and bust is thirty-four inches. She measures out to have about a large ‘B’ cup size. That will be a good place to start when trying on bras. Her height is five foot six inches. We will have to check shoe size later. Did you get all that?”

“I’m jealous,” Marla admits. “I’d like to be as trim in the butt, but at least my breasts warrant a ‘C’ cup.”

As they go on about my measurements, it seems that they have forgotten that I am still there. Maybe I have become their Barbie doll.

"Uh… ladies?" I ask. "Can I go hide now?"

“Sure,” says Marla, “Why don’t you duck into the changing booth for now? We’ll bring you some things to try on.” Her face is wearing her trademark mischievous grin. I am in trouble now!

She didn’t have to ask twice. Fortunately the dressing booth is unlocked or I would have crashed the door down! Unfortunately the door is more like one of those saloon doors you see in the old western movies: it is missing a foot or so at the bottom and only comes neck high–on a short person. It is also made of louver slats. Not real private, but better than standing out for the whole world to see.

No sooner than I dive into the booth, but I hear two more female voices–I think I've been set up. Apparently I am the only one here who doesn’t know what is going on. I am also apparently the only one who seems concerned about the fact that some kind of gender switch has been flipped.

As the two newcomers get brought up to speed, I am still feeling very exposed. And I am getting goose bumps from the chill.

“Hello ladies! Remember me?" I call out. "I'm the confused one here in the dressing room. I'm also getting cold. Will someone pass me my pajamas so that I can get dressed? Oh, and while you are at it, PLEASE tell me what's going on.”

“Chris–forget the pajamas,” my sweet mother–Amanda Quinn–says. “They should have been tossed out long ago. Anyway, we are here to get you something to wear so we’ll get you covered soon. As far as to what is going on, that explanation would take longer than we have time for now, so it will have to wait.”

Where have I heard that before?

“I think you'll need to hang on to those pajamas–at least for tonight,” says Jennifer Mercer, Laurie’s mother. “I’ll just set them over here for now.” She puts them on a chair in the waiting area.

Mom quickly takes charge of the proceedings. She always does. She has a strong personality that has served her well as an engineering project manager. She also knows how to give orders and expects obedience–instantly. She is also a great organizer.

“Okay girls, let’s get started here." Mom starts. "Laurie thanks for getting the measurements. It appears the new member to our club will be easy to outfit. I think that we are looking at size 5 or 6 panties, 34-B bras, and probably a size 7 dress. Remember, we are looking for stuff a nice sixteen-year-old girl would normally purchase. Laurie and Marla, you are the age appropriate fashion experts here so keep us on track–and avoid anything slutty.“

“Marla," Mom continues, "will you head over to the sales table and pick out a pair of panties for our princess? Maybe just one pair so that we can see if we guessed right on the size.”

“Sure, mom, I am on it,” Marla responds with glee.

“Jennifer," Mom turns her attention to Laurie's mother, "will you find a couple of bras in the right size that she can try. Let’s keep it simple with something comfortable and probably white for now. We are looking for fit at first. Then we can branch out from there.”

“Okay, I know what you want, Amanda. I’ll be right back,” Jennifer responds eagerly.

“Laurie," Mom says, "why don’t you get your new cousin a couple of dresses to try on so that we can check the size. Let’s stay on the conservative side for now. Nothing too revealing.”

“I think I know just what we need!" Laurie responds enthusiastically. "I saw a couple last weekend while shopping here. I’ll be back in a flash Mrs. Quinn.”

Like I said, she knows how to get things going.

While this is going on, I am studiously trying to ignore my new anatomy while I try desperately to make sense of this bizarre situation. There is simply just not enough information to sort things out. It feels just so wrong being here. Alone with a naked girl–even if that naked girl is me. Honestly–I've been a good boy. I really don’t need to fill my mind with images of a naked girl right now.

Before Mom gets done with all the instructions, Marla is back with a scrap of colorful material with a few strings attached. She hands the item over the door while looking to see that Mom is distracted.

She is grinning from ear to ear.

“Um… Marla? What's this?” I ask in confusion as I untangle a very small scrap of material with a string for a waist band and another that comes up from behind. “You can’t be serious!”

“It’s a thong” she quietly tells me. “Slip it on before Mom notices. I can’t wait to see my little brother in a thong!” Did I mention that Marla has a playful streak? In fact it runs into a fairly wide mean streak sometimes when the practical jokes start getting really intense. She is obviously having a good time tonight!

About this time Mom figures out what Marla is up to.

“Marla!” she says sternly, “We don’t have time for practical jokes right now. You know what we are looking for, now go get it! We really need to confirm sizes here and a thong is not the right piece for that.”

“But, Mom, she is going to need it anyway!” Marla points out.

“You are right, Marla," Mom responds, "but she doesn’t need it now. We need to ease her into this. Look at her. She is still in shock. Come on sweetie, work with us here.”

“Okay Mom. I’ll be right back,” Marla pouts.

Around this time Mrs. Mercer is back with several bras. As Mom looks them over Marla is back with some pink fabric that is much more substantial than the last, but still pretty small by male standards. She holds up the panties for Mom’s inspection before handing them over.

Okay, I know that I was the one with Sponge Bob pajamas, but in normal everyday life, I like simple plain clothes just like any guy. Plain white jockey shorts, blue jeans, a relatively clean T-shirt, some black or white socks and a pair of running shoes and I am ready to go. Having lived around three women for my whole life I know that things are not going to be so simple now. But these pink panties have pictures on them! Little cat faces and the phrase “hello kitty” scattered around on them. They appear to be made out of some kind of silky shiny fabric as well. I am still pretty apprehensive.

The assembled women grin a bit as Mom says “Well the hipster style is all right and they are cute.“ Since when did ‘cute’ become a criterion for choosing underwear? Turning to me, she says “Go ahead and try those on Chris. If they fit I’ll send our mischievous one back for some plain cotton panties of the same size.”

Taking the fabric from my sister over the door to the cubicle, I quickly slip them on, after I figure out which side is the front. The panties feel very tight. I find that I have to use my hands to pull things into place. They really are hesitant about arranging the panties around the crotch. Danger signs are flashing through my brain as my hands seem to shout back that they are going into forbidden territory. As I reach around to tug the back into place I notice that my butt is a lot bigger than it used to be! I am still trying to look the other way as I do this. It just doesn’t seem right to violate my own privacy!

Did I mention that I still view my mind and my body as belonging to two entirely different people? Of different sexes?

I am brought back to the present by the Queen controller.

“Come out, sweetie, we need to see the fit”

All right. Having panties on makes me feel a whole lot less naked, but I am still feeling very exposed. I hesitate to open the door. On the other hand, Marla seems to have no such hesitancies and she pushes the door open when I am slow to do so.

Grabbing my arm she pulls me out for inspection by the assembled masses. Oh yeah, Laurie is back by now also.

“Give us a spin, darling,” Mrs. Mercer suggests, making a twirling motion with her hand.

I look at her blankly, so young miss bossy grabs me by the shoulders and slowly turns me around. All four females are staring intently at my nether regions as I turn around.

“We like snug panties,” Laurie says “but those are a bit too tight. What size are they?”

“Size five,” Marla replies, “but I think that the pink goes well with the bright red!” referring to my extreme blush from standing nearly naked in front of four women. “The goose bumps are a nice touch, don’t you think?”

“Enough of the guff young lady,” Mom orders. “Let’s try a size six. Marla go find another pair while we try a bra on her.”

The first bra up is white–thank goodness!–and is fairly plain, if you ignore the bit of lace around the edges and subtle embroidery on the cups.

“I’ll help you get this adjusted, darling,” Mrs. Mercer says as she finishes fiddling with some straps. “Hold out your arms and I will slip it on you.”

I put my arms through the proper straps as Mrs. Mercer holds up the garment. Mom goes around back to fix the clasp. Mrs. Mercer seems to have no compunctions about handling my anatomy as she lifts and adjusts my new breasts in the bra cups. I, on the other hand, get pretty weirded out about all the handling. Strange messages start finding their way to my brain. There are sensations arriving to the control center that my brain has never registered and it is not sure what to do with them.

The new breasts, however, respond on their own. Marla is back just in time to observe.

“Ooh... Someone's getting a thrill!” She says with a smirk when she sees my hardening nipples through the light fabric of the bra.

“Marla! You are not making this any easier!” Laurie comes to my aid as she sees my face turn crimson. “Let’s please try to make this easier on the poor girl. She didn’t ask for this you know.”

I'm glad to see that someone notices that this was not my first choice for a good time on a Friday night.

Marla grumbles to herself but agrees to tone it down a bit. Fortunately, I know her too well and can see a plan brewing in her eyes. I’ll need to watch out for her. Unfortunately for me, she knows the territory and I do not.

Back to the bra fitting.

“It looks a little loose in the cup. How does that feel, darling?” Mrs. Mercer asks.

“Okay, I guess," I respond. "It feels kind of like the heart monitor sensor that I use sometimes while running. A little uncomfortable. Nothing hurts, but I have no frame of reference for analysis.”

“Well that one had a ‘C’ cup so let’s try the ‘B’ cup one next, but before you do that, try on these new panties that Marla brought.”

Without waiting for permission, I duck into the changing booth again with Marla’s latest prize in hand. It is a relief to get out of the pink panties. The new ones, a powder blue pair of cotton panties are definitely more substantial than the other pairs that she found. Again I try to avert my eyes as I swap out the garments. Once the new ones are on, I find that they extend quite a bit higher than the others. So do the leg openings. This is just too strange.

While I am doing this, the four ladies are discussing a variety of options that I don’t understand. Apparently some kind of plan is developing. It is also apparent, that while I am the center of the plan, they don’t feel that I need to provide any input to the proceedings. Apparently I don’t know enough about what is going on to make useful contributions.

Stepping out of the booth–on my own this time–I stand for inspection again.

There I am. Standing in front of four women wearing panties and a bra. My mind has pretty well shut down. It is no longer trying to make sense of this mess. It has been fried by too many inputs that don’t fit its programming. The inbox has overwhelmed the system.

Four of the five senses are passing in information that the brain is not prepared to handle.

My eyes are seeing things that are totally off limits for a good teen boy to see. The images of naked female flesh are being indelibly imprinted on my mind.

My skin is sending in signals of strange feelings on virtually every surface. Not just the feel of the clothes but the strangeness of breasts and the uncategorized feeling coming from a rearrangement of my crotch. When I was adjusting the panties, my hands let me know that there is a smoothness there that was not there a few hours ago.

My ears have been sending sounds that are definitely out of place whenever I say anything. The feminine voice is not unpleasant.  In fact, if it wasn't for the fact that it is my voice, I'd say it sounds pretty nice!

My nose has it pretty easy, but it is just sending messages about being in girl space. Girl space seems to have a distinct smell to it.

So far, only my sense of taste has left the brain alone.

In an attempt to reboot, brain central figures that the best way to reduce the input is to at least get the body covered. Then the visual will simply be seeing the wrong person and the wrong clothes. That seems infinitely better than seeing the forbidden anatomy of a naked girl–especially with an audience around.

Brain central sends the message to the lips.

“Can I get some clothes on now, please?” I plead to the inspection team.

“In a minute dear,” Mom says, “First we need to check the fit on your underwear. So, please, do a slow spin for us sweetheart.”

Still pleading with my eyes, I oblige the Queen.

“Marla… your choice in styles is getting better," Mom analyzes critically, "but French cut is still a bit more than plain. I like the blue, though. The size looks good too.”

“I thought the blue would be nice for my former little brother,” Marla says with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “So, Chris, how do they feel?”

How do they feel? That seems as absurd as the question about the bra. I don’t know what they are supposed to feel like. Given that I have now worn exactly two pairs of panties in my entire life, my knowledge base is somewhat limited.

“Ah–they are not tight like the last ones, if that means anything,” I note. “The leg openings seem strange as they are real high. “

“How’s the crotch?” asks Marla with a smirk.

“Marla!” chorus the other three women.

“I don’t know how to answer that question!” I respond. “I haven’t had time to resolve the total change in sensation coming from that region yet. As far as the panties go, they don’t cause any pain down there. They just seem to be trying to ride up my cheeks.”

“Marla, you really aren’t helping to speed things along here by goading Chris. What has gotten into you?” Mom asks.

“Mom, you know how he has been over the years. Just like any other male,” Marla points out. “He gives us grief about how long it takes to get ready or why we need so many clothes, or why we do this and why we do that. I think that it is great that he is getting his education. A little grief is fair play.”

Now mind you, I have never thought that I was harassing her or anybody else. I have just been communicating my lack of understanding in hopes that they would move things along. Really, I have never meant to be mean.

“You are right, Marla, but he's much better than most men so cut him some slack,” Mom replies. “We don’t have time right now to settle scores. Why don’t you go warm up the register so we can ring things up as we make our selections?”

There is that time issue again. What's up with that? I know better than to ask as the only answer that I am likely to get is that I’ll find out later.

---< >---

This chapter is now slightly different than originally posted. The basic content has not changed, but it has been polished with the help of Gabi who continues to teach me about writing. 

The same is true of all of the first four chapters. They were all originally posted without any editorial help at all, but they have now been cleaned up and polished–with Gabi's guidance and without messing with the essential details of the story.

 

 

Something Feels Strange…

“You are right Marla, but he's much better than most men so cut him some slack,” Mom replies. “We don’t have time right now to settle scores. Why don’t you go warm up the register so we can ring things up as we make our selections?”

There is that time issue again. What is up with that? I know better than to ask as the only answer that I am likely to get is I’ll find out later.

Chapter 2:  Confusion

Turning to Laurie, Mom says, “Great dress, Laurie, only it will need a slip. Can you get my difficult daughter to help you find one in the right size?”

“Sure, Mrs. Quinn," Laurie responds. "Show me the way, Marla!”

“Okay, Jen," Mom redirects her attention to Laurie's mother, "let’s try the ‘B’ cup bra on your pretty young niece.”

Something just clicked. As I said, brain central is in shambles and hasn’t begun to organize all the input yet.

“Ah–Mom?” I ask. “What’s this ‘cousin’ and ‘niece’ stuff that you keep mentioning?”

“Unhook your bra sweetheart and we can talk about things while we try on the next one,” she attempts–successfully–to distracts me.

I look at her as if she just spoke to me in Greek. The look of confusion is the result of her instruction about removing the bra. I have studiously avoided knowing anything about the mechanics of bras all my life and have no idea how this is done.

Mrs. Mercer comes to my rescue. “Chris, darling, there are hooks on the back of your bra.” She holds up one to show me. “Just reach around behind you and unclip them.”

That piece of advice seems easier said than done, but I give it a try anyway. Wow! I appear to be more flexible than I remember. After a bit of fumbling, the hooks come loose and and so does the bra. A shrug of the shoulders and the item is off.

“Now for the hard part,” Jen says smiling gently as she hands me the new bra. “Try putting this one on.”

I get the distinct feeling I am being set up for a learning experience. Putting my arms through the obvious straps, I have to pull the front down to cover the breasts. This means that I have to look at them. Oh boy–brain central is screaming at me to avert my eyes and remove my hands. Apparently, the reprogramming is still in progress.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Mom encourages. “You can touch them. They're yours.” Did I mention that Mom reads minds as well?

Her advice doesn’t help much.

Overriding brain central with great effort, I force my hands to loop the band under MY breasts then reach around to try the clasp in the back. Things aren’t working out very well. I can’t get the hooks to match with the eyes. Also, my breasts and the cups are not staying aligned.

Of course, this is the time that Marla returns with Laurie. Both girls break into giggles. I turn red and look up to notice that both mothers are trying–unsuccessfully–to hide smiles as well.

Laurie sees my distress and once again comes to my aid. “Chris. Sorry but you do look cute doing that. We are forgetting that we all had the benefit of watching our mothers and sisters dress before we had to put on our first bras but you haven't.  Maybe we should give you some advice.”

I am more than willing to take her up on her offer at this point. "What do I do?"

“Begin by wrapping your bra around your waist so that the clasp is in front," Laurie directs. "Now hook the clasp using the last row of eyes. Good. Now spin it around so the clasp is in the back then work it up your torso until the cups are in place. There. Now slip your arms through the shoulder straps: if you lean forward you'll find it's easier to settle your breasts in the cups. Now, wasn’t that easy? When you get more practice you will be able to put your bra on the other way without any trouble, but many of us prefer this other method.”

I follow all these instructions under the watchful eyes of my keepers. It is difficult–make that impossible–to ignore my new breasts as I fasten the hooks. As I lean forward as directed, hair falls into my face, mercifully partially obscuring my vision. When I straighten up things are still not comfortably settled.  After pushing my hair back, I realize that there is nothing I can do but reach up and adjust my breasts in their holders. As I prepare to do this I am getting frantic messages from brain central that I could go a lifetime without knowing this skill and that I am going to get in big trouble for feeling this girl’s breasts. I guess brain central still hasn’t gotten the memo about the sex change.

After completing the task, I close my eyes and hold my hands a safe distance away from the girl’s body. “Thanks Laurie, that helps.”

The inspection team closes in and examines the new installation from all angles. Mom tugs a little here and there checking the fit.

Mrs. Mercer asks. “Does it feel too tight, darling? It looks snugger than the first one.”

It is a little snug in the breast region, however–unlike test number one–this one actually feels as if it has the jiggling mass of flesh under control.

“It does seem snug–but not tight," I respond, brushing the hair out of my face again. "At least my chest seems to be under control now. I guess that I will have to try it for a while or try on a few more before I know if it is the best fit possible. I just don’t have the experience to tell.”

The general consensus of the inspection team is that the current option is more than adequate.

Laurie notices the hair issue. “I saw some barrettes over at the sales counter," she says. "It looks as if you could use one to keep that hair out of your face. I’ll grab one for you.” 

Within seconds she is back with a wide metal clip with a bow on it. The bow is hot pink. I have seen things like this before.  My sisters and other girls I know use them. She quickly pulls my hair back into a flat ponytail-like arrangement and secures it with the barrette.

Turning to the her two young assistants the Project Manager asks, “Did you find a slip for our girl?”

The girls hold up a white slip for inspection. After checking the size, Mom asks them to help me into it.  She is beginning to realize that I don't know anything about donning feminine apparel.  The fact that my eyes are still tightly closed should also communicate that I am still not comfortable being around the scantily clad girl who is the object of their attention.

They pull the slip over my head and settle it into place. A new round of urgent messages flood brain central. The sensuous feel of the nylon fabric is setting off a thousand alarm bells from almost every affected surface. No T-shirt EVER felt like THIS!

By this time brain central is getting tired of all the alarms and fails to respond. The incoming messages are just added to the overflowing inbox for analysis once the backlog is whittled down. The only message that comes back is to 'go with the flow. We’ll get back to you later'!

The fabric feels so… how do you describe it? Smooth? Slick? Lightweight? It slides back and forth with a smoothness I have never before experienced. It sends shivers up and down my spine.

I think the gallery realizes that I am trying to come to grips with the new sensation.

Marla–in an uncharacteristically friendly tone–says, “Doesn’t it feel great? It'll feel even better on your legs once you get rid of all that hair.”

“Yeah–you’ll need to shave those legs pretty quick girl," observes Laurie. "Your arm pits as well. We’re not in Europe you know.”

What on earth does this have to do with Europe?  Another mystery.  This one is low priority but gets added to the inbox with all the others.  I just want things to move through to some sort of conclusion, so I don't pursue this side mystery right now.

Feeling sufficiently covered I open my eyes and look suspiciously at my sweet sister who has a contrite expression on her face.

“Sorry Chris,” she apologizes sincerely. “I guess I was out of line earlier. I know that you've never been intentionally mean to me and it was unfair of me to toy with you. I admit that I am a bit jealous too. You've got a great figure without any real fat. I've worked hard to get that way and can’t quite make it. You're slender from the first day you are a girl! It's so unfair. Anyway, girl, I’m sorry.”

Have the aliens swapped out my sister? I guess that lots of strange, unexplained things are happening tonight. Maybe Laurie had a chat with her while they were selecting the slip. I still think that I will need to keep an eye on her.

Now that I am somewhat covered I figure that it is safe to peek in the mirror again. The girl is not completely decent, but at least she is covered. She is also kinda cute. A lot like my girlfriend. If I wasn’t already going with Laurie I might be tempted to her ask out. Oops! Mixed messages again. That girl is me. Read the memo brain central!

Yes, there is a strong family resemblance to Laurie. I realize that my question about nieces and cousins was sidestepped again. These gals are pretty good at redirecting my attention!

“Ah… Mom? Remember we were going to talk about this niece and cousin business?” I say in vain hope of some answers.

“Sure, sweetie, let’s just get this dress on you first.” She sidesteps again. She must be a great dancer. I’ll have to ask Dad when I see him. I know better than to push the issue so I just sigh and submit to the next indignity.

The dress in question looks very similar to the one that Laurie is wearing.

Here verbal description gets more difficult for me. (I am not providing pictures–even if there were some–particularly of the early stages of this project!) Up to now it has been hard enough to communicate about the items that I have been modeling since I don’t know all the different types of lingerie. For example, I didn’t know that there could be more than a couple of types of underpants–I mean–panties. Now I know that there are at least thongs, hipsters and French cut panties, and probably a many options as well, though as yet, I am not yet entirely clear on the precise definitions. And looking closer at the racks of bras in my immediate vicinity it appears that there is a multitude of different types of those too. I am sure that each has its purpose but, as a guy, that knowledge hasn’t been important to me. If this girl thing is permanent then I have a lot to learn.

I'm sure that I am unqualified to even name the multitude of colors!

Like all guys, my only classification of women’s attire is that there are dresses, skirts, shirts–that would be blouses/tops;–, pants–some jeans. others nicer–and shorts.  Each item category with its own infinite number of subcategories. The subcategories and their definitions have not been even remotely important to me. Until tonight. As a boy it has been sufficient to simply know the broader definitions. I have known what I like to see on the women in my life, but that doesn’t mean that I know what it is called.

So, you ask, what type of dress is Laurie wearing? Let me give you the details from a guy’s perspective. It is of moderate length, stopping maybe an inch or two above the knee. It follows her figure without being tight. I mean you can see–and appreciate–all her curves in all the directions. The skirt flares out a bit as it goes down. The top part has no collar but is kind of a rounded shape that loops down to just above the breasts. You see a bit of chest but only just a hint of cleavage. It also has short little sleeves that are only a couple of inches long. It zips up the back. (I have always wondered how they can zip it up without help. I guess I am going to find out!). Oh… and its general color scheme is black, though there is some trim and stuff that is grey and white.

I’ve seen her in the dress a couple of times and she knows that I like it. But I couldn’t tell you–in female terms–anything more about it, other than it is a dress. See what I mean? I doubt that the explanation was too useful to anyone interested in getting an accurate mental image.

If I wasn’t trying to describe the dress to you, the phrase, “She looks hot!” would just have about covered it for me.

Anyway, back to the matters at hand. Laurie holds the dress up for inspection by the mothers and says, “see, we can be twins!” It apparently meets with approval so the garment is offered to me.

Holding it up at arm’s length like it was going to scorch me, I try to figure out how to put it on. By now, the question as to whether or not I should put it on is irrelevant. Brain central is still struggling with the overloaded inbox and says to 'just go with the flow until further notice. Regardless of recent events, these gals (with one mild exception) have always had your best interests in mind.'

There are more smiles all around on the faces of the inspection team. At least Marla’s smile isn’t mischievous this time.

In fact Marla reaches over and unzips the dress for me. “Okay Chris you can either step into it like a pair of jeans or you can pull it over your head like a T-shirt.” At least she is talking my language. “I recommend pulling over your head since the slip might ride up if you go the other way, then you will have to work at getting the slip back down again. Let us help you.”

Help is welcome. But help from Marla is taken with caution. Fortunately Laurie gets in the act too, so I’m not so paranoid. Laurie has been a good sport–for the most part–and has always treated me with respect in the past.

In short order the dress is draped on my body and Laurie zips up the back. Time for serious review by the inspection team. They have me spin. They walk around me, tugging and straightening here and there. Mom gets a little fresh adjusting the front around my breasts but she is all business.

“Well,” Mrs. Mercer says to the team, “it looks pretty good. Maybe a little loose in the bust and waist, but not more that you’d expect from a department store dress. A little padding up top would take care of the bust. We’ll have to add a couple of padded or pushup bras to the list.”

“I agree," observes Mom. "another size up would be too big and another size down would be too tight,”

“She looks pretty good. We look even more like relatives now,” Laurie adds. I notice that she gets some kind of look from the mothers that communicates the idea that she just said something wrong. Apparently they want to stay away from relation issue for some reason. I don’t. I’m starting to think that it is important.

“Uh–about the relative thing…” I inject to the conversation.

“We definitely need to do something with her legs,” Marla observes, obviously ignoring my comment and attempting to redirect my attention. “The hair is just so gross. Pantyhose and some heels would almost complete the look. A bit of work on her hair, makeup, and some jewelry would top everything off.”

None of these comments are addressed to me. Yep, I am a life size Barbie doll and the girls are starting to have fun. I am getting the feeling that things are just getting started for them.

Turning to the mirror, I see what Laurie means. The girls do look related–like sisters. She steps up beside me and puts her arm around my waist. She does one of those weird girl-hug things where she scrunches up her shoulders and puts her head next to mine–and giggles like girl friends do.

If the other girl had heels on like Laurie, they would be the same height. They appear, to my untrained eye, to be essentially the same size. While not identical, the dresses complement each other well.

Laurie has her hair done in a fancy braid of some kind. The other girl has unkempt hair that needs a brush and a trim.  The barrette helped quite a bit. Well actually, the hair needs more than a trim–it needs some style. It looks as if it has been totally ignored for years and allowed to grow wild.

Then there is the makeup issue. I don’t normally notice Laurie’s makeup–even though I know that she spends a lot of time at it. Standing side by side with nature girl, however, it is very obvious that Laurie has on nicely applied make up while the other girl does not. The other girl could benefit from some.

“Well, what do you think?” Laurie asks me.

“I think she's cute,” I observe. I’m feeling a little more at ease now that there are no naked women around. After that situation, being merely uncomfortable in the Junior’s section of the store doesn’t seem so bad. It is amazing how a bad situation suddenly becomes insignificant after being faced with a worse one.

“She is you,” points out Mrs. Mercer.

I just stare at the mirror trying to comprehend the connection between me and the cute girl in the mirror. Could that really be me?

“Time to get down to business,” Mom says breaking the spell. “Time is short.  The dress will do nicely. Let’s keep it.”

Whatever happened to asking the poor girl if she wanted it? Apparently her views aren’t important tonight and I am beginning to feel a somewhat sorry for her. That is until I am reminded–once again–that she is me and I am her. But then I haven’t a clue about what this girl likes or needs in the way of clothing.  She really does need the help being provided by the assembled professionals.

“We have identified her sizes now we need to start making the selections,” Laurie’s mother states. “We're going to need some luggage also.  Maybe now would be a good time to get a couple of suitcases to put everything in.”

Suitcases? Where did that come from? Another mystery.  I know that I don’t know what is going on, but suitcases? Apparently the girl is going traveling.

“Marla, where's the travel section?” Mrs. Mercer asks. “I’ll go get what she needs.”

“It's in the back corner of the store,” Marla waves her hand in the general direction and Mrs. Mercer takes off.

“Chris, we need you to take off the clothes you're now wearing so Marla can ring them up,” Mom says. “Turn around dear, and I'll unzip you. If you want to use the changing booth, go ahead.”

After Mom's assistance, I dive into the booth; it feels good to be out of the spotlight, so to speak.

“I just need the sales tags from the panties and bra ,” Marla says, “but pass out the dress and slip and I’ll ring them up and fold them for you.” She passes me a pair of scissors to remove tags on the underwear.

It seems easier to drop the dress down and step out of it, so I do. The slip comes off over my head. I don’t think that it would go over my newly expanded hips very easily.

Wait a minute! Did brain central just refer to these hips as my hips? It appears that brain central is starting to make some connection between the girl and me. And it doesn’t seem too concerned about the connection. As I check in with central control, the message that seems to be coming back is 'don’t fight reality'. My response is 'what is reality? '

The brewing mental investigation is interrupted–yet again–by the project manager prompting me to get with the program. The schedule–apparently–is still slipping. I hand over the required garments to the head boss.

I can’t seem to find the sales tag on the bra. It must be in the back. There is only one way to find out–it must come off. The best approach for doing this appears to be to reverse the process that I used for putting it on. I still need to work on the reach around behind method.

I find that slipping off the straps, slipping the device down to my waist and turning it around is sufficient to expose the tag. It also exposes the breasts. Which sets off warning bells–again. I find the breasts to be quite a distraction but I can’t close my eyes because then I couldn’t deal with the tag.

“Come on, sweetheart, times a wastin’,” prompts the project manager.

Focus on the task–not the (my?) breasts. Focus. Focus. Focus. I can do this!

The tag is removed, the bra quickly reinstalled, and eyes averted. The adjustment of breasts in the cups is emotionally difficult again and sends two conflicting messages to brain central. The hands send warning messages that they are in forbidden territory while the breasts themselves send a message that says it feels kind of nice. Confusion reigns. I hope that we can soon negotiate some kind of settlement between the training of my brain and my new body!

The sales tag from the bra is handed over. Fortunately, the sales tag for the panties is hanging by its little plastic string from the side of the garment. I can keep them on. Breasts are bad enough. Looking at or feeling around the other new equipment is more than I can deal with right now. It is sufficient to know right now that all is not like it used to be down there.

The tag is removed and follows its predecessor to the cash register.

There is a mirror in the booth but I am not looking at it. I stand with my back to the mirror with eyes pointed anywhere other than at the scantily clad young woman in the booth.

While I am doing this Mom sends Laurie out for some pants and tops. Since we are essentially the same size she knows what to look for–it is like shopping for herself.

Mom–in the mean time–is making a list.

She calls over to Marla. “Marla, sweetheart, while you are waiting can you start picking out some panties and bras for everyday use without being hard on Chris? You know, like what you would wear? We are looking for at least a couple of week’s worth and we also need to plan for special occasions. A couple matching bra and panty sets would be nice too. Remember that Jennifer and I will be reviewing what you pick.”

“Sure, Mom, I’ll be a good girl and play nice this time,” she replies contritely. “I think I know the perfect bra and panty set to go with the dress. Black would be best I think.” She hurries off to the start the search.

I’m not sure what happened to the joker but she seems to be trying to be nice. I still don’t trust her.

Trying to not look at yourself while trapped in a small space is hard work. Particularly in a small booth that has a mirror and not much more than a seat for distraction. I manage mostly by keeping my eyes tightly closed.

It is a relief when Laurie returns with more garments for the girl to try on.

Jeans! I know about jeans–I live in them every day. Finally, I feel as if I am in familiar territory again.

She passes the jeans to me over the door and I eagerly slip them on only to find that there is a problem: These are not your typical guy jeans. For one they are a bit snug in places where it would not be good for boy’s jeans to be snug. They also don’t come very high on my hips. My underwear is showing–big time. Not to mention the interlocking little hearts embroidered on the back pockets are strange.

“Uh… there is a problem here,” I mention hesitantly.

“Let me see,” Mom directs as she opens the cubical door–without permission.

Apparently privacy is not a concern among these shopping women. This is a new revelation to me since they have always made a big deal about privacy whenever I have been around before.

“They are a little low but otherwise they seem fine to me,” she says. “Marla has tried to get away with lower. The inseam is the right length to.  You just need the right panties. Laurie, will you go find some bikini panties for Chris?”

“Sure, Mrs. Quinn," she responds with enthusiasm. "I’ll be back in a flash. I know just where to find them. I’ll make sure that Marla has at least three or four pair in the pile that she is assembling.”

True to her word she is back in no time at all. She must have done a grab and run job.

“Here,” she bubbles, “these will be perfect. Try them on. I’ve already given the sales tag to Marla.” She is really getting into this.

The panty is very small and has a leopard print. It is also very smooth and shiny–obviously they are not cotton. What happened to the simple days? She notices my questioning look.

“They are made from microfiber. You’ll find them very comfortable,” she says enthusiastically.

Diving back into the booth, I look at the wall while removing the jeans and blue panties. I DO NOT want to look in the mirror right now. With as little intimate contact as possible I slip on and adjust the new undergarment then pull the jeans back on. Running my hand over the crotch to settle the fabric in place is an unsettling affair. It is just so darn smooth down there!

Well at least the underwear doesn’t show. It is barely covered by the jeans. Running my hands over my backside, the shape seems all wrong but it is not the jean’s fault–my butt seems to have grown immensely and is more rounded than it has ever been. I’ve never gone for the low rider jean look before so it is hard to get used to jeans that feel like they would fall off if they weren’t painted on.

Mom pops the door open again–without permission. I wish that she would stop that!

“Hm… the jeans look much better with the right panties,” she observes as she has me do a slow spin just outside the booth. Apparently she doesn’t notice my frustration with her violation of my space. “We need to get a nice belt that will go with those. Now try on this top.” She hands me a floral patterned shirt that has a purple color theme.

I slip back into the booth. I’m starting to think that the booth is not doing much given the freedom that the my consultants feel in invading the space but I still feel more protected in here.

I look at the shirt. Only this is not really a shirt–I am informed that this is a 'top' or 'blouse'. For one, the buttons are on the wrong side. This causes some confusion at first but it works out after I catch on. Also, the fabric is pretty thin. Almost translucent. Swell–you’ll be able to see the bra under the shirt and probably the poor girl’s belly button as well. Finally, it seems to be missing the top four or five buttons and the fabric that goes with them. It does have a collar–of sorts. The top is also too short to tuck into the jeans–which don’t have room for any tucking anyway. As a matter of fact the shirt–sorry... top–barely reaches the jeans. It has sleeves that come to just above the elbows.

After donning the garment I pop the door open–before Mom gets the chance–and step out for inspection. After having heard frequent arguments between Mom and my older sisters over the years, I know what is coming.

“This won’t do,” Mom declares emphatically. “Too much skin for a young girl. Particularly between the jeans and shirt. The bodice is not going to work either. There is just too much cleavage showing.  It is also too shear. Laurie can’t you find a better top?”

“I figured that you might say that. Too bad, she is slender enough to pull this off without being a muffin top,” sighs Laurie. “Anyway, I picked up this black camisole to go with it.” She has apparently anticipated the objection.  She is holding up what looks a tank top with strings for shoulder straps. It has lace trim on the bottom and top seams. This must be a camisole. I’ve seen her wearing one before under similar shirts (tops?).

I grab the camisole and start back for the dressing room.

“Chris, sweetheart, we are running behind schedule,” the master scheduler points out. “Why don’t you just put it on out here? It will save a lot of time. You were never this private as a boy.”

"Mom!" I exclaim.

“After all, sweetie, we are the only ones here right now,” she adds, "and we are all girls." She is obviously including me in the comment. I guess that I do have the right equipment to meet the description.

I turn my back on the two inspectors and fumble with the buttons–why can’t they be the same as what I’m used to?–finally managing to shed the top. I slip on the camisole. Again while trying to ignore the breasts. It does cover a couple of inches of the jeans and more of my chest. Back on goes the top. The added benefit of the camisole seems to be in hiding what is under the top a bit better. I guess having the camisole peek out from under the shirt–top… sorry!–is some kind of a fashion statement.

Turning around for inspection, I see approving nods from Mom & Laurie. Marla comes over to see what’s happening and apparent thinks that it looks good to.

The best thing of all is that I feel better not being around the naked girl.

Turning to look in the mirror I see that the cute girl is looking pretty hot for being ‘casually’ dressed–even with bare feet. Yes, if it weren't for my relationship with Laurie I'd be tempted to ask her on a date. That is if I was really me again.

Marla collects the sales tags for the camisole, jeans, and top and returns to the register.

About this time, Mrs. Mercer comes back dragging a large suitcase and one of those small type that fit in the overhead bins on airplanes. They both have wheels so that you can drag them along and–of course–they are coordinated. She has also found one of those small backpacks with the thin straps that hang way down the back that many young girls have been carrying around in recent years.

“Look at what I found!” she enthuses. “And it’s on sale too. This is a pretty good brand and should last a long time.”

“Ah… what’s with the little dorky backpack?” I ask. I have to draw the line somewhere!

“What is wrong with the backpack?” She defends. “I think that it's cute. You will need something bigger than your average purse when you are traveling.”

Who said anything about a purse? Or traveling for that matter!

“Mom,” interjects Laurie, “those types of packs are so out of style and really don’t hold that much anyway. That is why it is on clearance.”

“Besides it is just too weird," I point out. “Can’t I just use my school book pack?”

“I suppose,” she relents with a frown. “I’ll put that one back but I’ve seen your backpack and it is a mess. Maybe I can find something more feminine and looks as if it will survive the week.” Yea for small victories! Maybe–maybe she won't have time to find the backpack replacement.  After all, we are on a schedule I'm told.

Getting things back on track Mom starts issuing orders again. “Laurie, why don’t you and Chris go look for some more tops and another pair of jeans? A pair of capris and/or slacks would be nice also. I think about four more tops are needed for now. Nothing too tight or revealing. Your mother and I will review the underwear that Marla has chosen and start packing the suitcases as the items are rung up. When that is done, we will start looking for some nice skirts and a few more dresses. We can’t forget hosiery and shoes. Bring your selections back here for Chris to try on. Time is running short so ladies let’s get a move on!”

Laurie grabs my hand and drags me off towards the jeans and tops. I keep pulling up on my jeans because they feel like they are falling off. It's a good thing that the anatomy down south has changed because each time I tug my pants up I'd smash anything that was down there. Now there is nothing to smash. This feeling is not lost on brain central. Unfortunately there isn't anything in the current programming that knows how to deal with these sensations. The input is relegated to the overflowing inbox for further study–when time allows. If there ever is any such time.

Once we get away from mission control I whisper to Laurie, “Can you PLEASE let me know what is going on here? Why, all of a sudden, am I a girl? No offense, but I don’t really want to be a girl. And why the big hurry to do all this shopping? Can this be reversed? What’s this about being your cousin? Why is my girlfriend now just my girl friend? What’s this...”

“Be quiet!” she cuts me off with an urgent whisper. “You don’t have too many questions, do you? Like we've already told you, there isn't time now for the full explanation at the moment. Besides, it is probably best if you don't know right now. You'll understand why later. Honest. Just trust us and go with the flow. You have to believe that I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. Come on now, we really need to focus. Now, what would you like in the way of a top? We should get a few things that mix and match with your other clothes.”

Ugh!! I’d really like to scream right now. “You’re not going to help me out here are you?”

“Oh, I’m going to help out you alright" she assures me. "Just not how you’d like me to help you right now. Believe me–you’ll thank me later. Anyway, you didn’t answer my question: What would you like in the way of a top?”

Talk about not answering questions! It seems to be the trend tonight.

“The only ‘tops’ I want,” I grumble, “are shirts in the men’s section across the store! But, that's not going to happen, is it?"

She shakes her head and I continue, "Look, I don’t know anything about ‘tops’. I know that I like to see a girl wearing nice clothes but I am usually focused on the girl.  I have never looked at a girl to analyze what she is wearing so that I can replicate the look.”

“I guess that make sense,” she admits. Score another point for the good guys! “How about letting me select a few more tops for you while you look at the jeans across the aisle? Just don’t get the same ones that you have on. You need variety when you are a girl.”

“Deal. You find the tops and I'll find some decent jeans. Are there some with higher waists than these?” I ask. It seems more productive to me to help with the search. Maybe I can find some like my old 'guy' jeans.

“Sure, and lower too," she says. "Also in a variety of colors. I think that black or burgundy would look good on you. Go ahead and check it out. Just don’t take too long.”

There is that time thing crunch again–I'm getting tired of hearing about time.

The array of jeans available is almost overwhelming. I thought that this would be easy. Well I’ll make it easy! Finding a pile of blue denim I start looking for something with a tall waist and maybe a little looser. Sticking to the stated size I find a couple of likely pair that don’t seem to be too ornate.

Glancing in Laurie’s direction, I note that she is totally focused and going through the racks like a woman possessed. She already has at least a dozen tops for me to check out.

I have never seen this side of her. It's scary.

Getting her attention by getting in her face, I let her know that I am heading back to the dressing room. On the way, I pass a rack of belts. As I am tired of tugging at my pants I take a quick look. There are lots of different styles but they seem short on plain leather belts. The closest that I can come is a white leather belt with flashy bits of metal studs arranged in patterns on it. A quick check shows that it is the right size so I grab it.

Mom is already back at the dressing room with a stack of skirts. She is checking her list. I can see Mrs. Mercer going through racks of dresses.

“There you are!” Mom exclaims. “I was about to come get you. We are…”

“...running out of time,” I finish her sentence. “I have heard that already.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, but it is true," she says. "I wish that we had enough time to really enjoy this.  Maybe another time. Let’s finish with your jeans then we can move on to these skirts until Laurie gets back with the tops. Before you take those jeans off though, why don't you try that belt on?”

By this time brain central has pretty well shut down and is along for the ride. New information is coming so fast that brain central is no longer trying to keep up. Maybe after enough information comes in there will be enough to piece together the puzzle but for now, not even the edge pieces are all there. Even if they were new inputs are occurring too rapidly to allow me to sort through those already in the inbox.

The only thing that brain central is scanning for at this time is threats of physical harm. The anxiety level is down to just 'let’s just ride this out' level. Seeing nothing that appears to be physically dangerous I set the jeans on the small bench in the changing booth and thread the belt through the loops on my current jeans. The booth door is left open as closing it only seems to slow things down–t doesn't keep anyone out anyway.

Marla, who is waiting for more stuff to ring up, comes over to join the inspection team. She likes what she sees.

“Did you pick out that darling belt all by yourself?” She asks.

After receiving an affirming nod from me she continues “Wow, I didn’t know you had any fashion sense! It looks perfect with that outfit. I’ll have to borrow it sometime!” I obviously scored another point.

I guess that the belt is a keeper. Maybe having clothes that Marla can borrow will put her on her best behavior. She can be a nice girl when she wants something!

My size is not too much different than Marla's–I think–though she is maybe an inch shorter and a little more plump–not fat mind you–but don’t tell her that. She is eternally dieting and I pretty sure she likes to have something to complain about. She thinks she's as fat a pig ready for market even if no one else thinks so.

“Okay, sweetheart, take the jeans off," Mother directs, "and let Marla have them and the belt. Marla, make sure that those go in the smaller suitcase.”

Looking at the wall again I slip off the jeans and hand them over. Quickly grabbing another pair, I put them on without looking down. These jeans–thank goodness–are a bit taller in the waist. They are contoured for the girl’s shape and won’t fall off since they curve over her hips. The waist band is definitely smaller than the hips but is pretty loose around the waist. At least there is room to tuck in a shirt–top… sorry! The legs have a little room in them too–they feel nice.

Mom starts tugging at the inseam and waist band. “A bit loose at the waist, but they fit very well on the hips. You have a small waist, sweetheart, so I guess that is to be expected. I like the fact that they are a bit more modest than the other pair. These will be good for more than standing around looking pretty. Good choice. What do you think, sweetheart?”

This ‘sweetheart’ business is getting old. It could be worse I guess–she could be calling me ‘princess’–so I decide that it is not worth fighting over.  At least she asked my opinion this time. Peeking in the mirror I respond “I think that she looks good in them Mom, I think that we should add it to her wardrobe.”

“Great! We’ll hand them over to Marla," Mom declares. "Oh, by the way, 'she' is you. You might want to start thinking that way.”

Brain central seems to have ignored the comment connecting me with the girl in the mirror. I am not ready for that connection quite yet either so we move on without reply.

Off come the jeans and on go the next pair. These fit better in the waist but are a bit tight in the hips so they go in the reject pile as I try on the last pair that I picked up.  They are keepers though I think that the legs are a bit tighter than I feel comfortable with–they leave little to the imagination.

“Didn’t you get any slacks, sweetheart?” Mom asks.

“Well, no,” I reply. “I don’t know anything about girl’s slacks.”

“I’ll send Marla to find some,” she says. I roll my eyes at that. Calling over to her, Mom says, “Marla, honey, will you get Chris a couple of pairs of slacks? With summer coming, I think that she should have something like Capri pants. Get at least one white pair. They need to be nice enough for wearing to work.”

With marching orders in hand Marla is off. Hasn’t Mom learned to not trust Marla yet?

The project manager approves the current pair of jeans which are now destined for the suit cases. She hands me a denim skirt.

At this point brain central unexpectedly kicks into gear. Skirts are foreign territory. Back when the dress was installed, the brain was distracted with a tsunami of danger signals and did not have time to focus on this kind of threat. Now that it has given up on trying to make sense of the situation, it still is trying to identify new threats to peace and harmony. A skirt is one of those things. It is not exactly sure why, but the approach of the skirt sends out wild warnings.

When I fail to reach for the proffered garment Mom realizes that something is wrong. Well–at least she senses some resistance.

“Sweetheart, what is wrong?” she asks with concern.

“That’s a skirt,” I point out the obvious.

“And that is a problem because...?” she starts.

“I don’t know!” I express in frustration. “But it doesn’t seem right.”

“Sweetheart, look in the mirror,” she says patiently. “What do you see?”

“I see a cute girl that could be Laurie’s younger sister,” I observe.

“Don’t you think that she would look good in this skirt?” she asks.

“I guess so,” I relent.

“Why don’t you let her put it on?” Mom asks gently. "She needs your help."  She seems to realize that I haven’t made the full connection yet.

“Ah… you want me to put a skirt on a girl?,” I respond. The anxiety level is moving up again.

“Sweetheart, you are going to need to make the connection that you are that girl. The rules have changed for you. I know that you did not ask for this but you have been traded to the 'other team'. It is similar to what happens to ball players all the time. You need to accept the new uniform and integrate into the new team culture. You need to act as if you are not going to be traded back anytime soon–if ever.”

I have to send THAT idea to brain central for immediate processing whether it likes it or not. The message that comes back is: 'this request will receive the highest priority, in the mean time, just do what you are told. Probability analysis indicates that following orders from Mom currently has the best chance for keeping out of trouble and surviving this ordeal/nightmare.'

“I’ll have to work on that idea,” is what comes out of my mouth as I start to remove the jeans, still avoiding looking down or in the mirror.

 

Something Feels Strange…

“I’ll have to work on that idea,” is what comes out of my mouth as I start to remove the jeans. Still avoiding looking down or in the mirror.

Chapter 3:  Resignation

I trade the jeans for the skirt. Holding it up I am trying to figure out which way it goes. This skirt has a fly on the front and normal jean's pockets which solve my dilemma. Unzipping the fly, I step into the skirt and pull it up to my waist. After doing up the zipper and fastening the button I turn to look at the mirror to see the girl–sorry… me–looking back. The skirt seems a little loose in the waist but my wide hips keep it up. The skirt has belt loops so I guess that I could wear the belt with it if I want. The hem is right at knee level.

While Mom is doing an inspection Laurie shows up with about a dozen tops. Seeing me in the skirt, she offers her assessment.

“Mrs. Quinn, that is a nice skirt but don’t you think that it is a little long for a teenager?” Laurie asks cautiously.

“Laurie, it looks pretty nice as it is.  I don't know why you teenagers feel the need to show your entire leg to look nice.” Mom replies, as if she has heard this before. "I think that the more modest look will be easier for Chris at this point."

“I’m not thinking micro-mini, Mrs. Quinn, just something around mid thigh,” Laurie suggests.

I sense that a disagreement is brewing here and, yes, I have heard this one before. My older sister Tiffany–or Tiff to her friends & family–and our parents had it often when she was in high school. Most of the time the argument ended with the young one in tears and frustration on the face of the adults. I suspect that Tiff wears what she wants now that she is away at college where Mom and Dad don't need to know.

Marla and Mrs. Mercer show up and join the battle. The line is clearly drawn between the generations and little progress is being made. I can sense that the mothers are about to lay down the trump card so I decide to utilize their own strategy.

"Excuse me, ladies!" I shout to be heard. "Aren’t we on some kind of schedule here? How about we settle for an inch or two above the knee or longer and get on with things?"

The two teenagers look at me like I’m some kind of traitor while the mothers concede but aren’t entirely happy.

The denim skirt goes on the reject pile and we sort through the rest.

The modeling requests come thick and fast. The girl tries–sorry… I try–on over a dozen skirts before the assembled fashion consultants settle on three. One is a denim skirt but it is a little shorter than the first one–as a matter of fact the hem is a little more than 2 inches above the knee. The girls feel happy with their small victory. The mothers, however, seem to have won the war since the other two skirts are both longer. One, they tell me, is a 'tiered skirt' with four tiers of fabric with lace trim around the hem which ends about mid-calf.  It has a tie-dyed look that is darker at the top and becomes lighter as it progresses downward.  The color looks to be somewhere between blue and purple. The other skirt is a more formal 'full length'–extending down to shoe level–skirt and has a green floral pattern.

Sometime during the fashion show the group decides that a half slip is needed. I don’t really know why but my fashion consultants seem to think that it was obvious. I guess that there is plenty of time to understand why later–or so I’m told. An off white half slip that goes to my knee is produced from somewhere and added to the pile after being appropriately modeled.

While the skirts are being modeled I am directed to try on possible candidates for matching tops. About half of the chosen tops/blouses were eliminated by the mature women as being either too tight or too revealing–either at the top or bottom. There is some frustration in the younger set but they managed to get in a few of the too revealing items by adding camisoles or thin sweater like items to counter the concerns of the older women. I wonder to myself if arguments about bare midriffs could be termed 'navel warfare'! In the end half a dozen tops are added to the suitcases after Marla rings them up.

By the time we get through the skirts and tops I realize that brain central has not expressed any opinions or warnings about feel of the clothes or the larger questions for some time.  I guess that I've been kept too busy by my keepers to think about much. There has been little time to notice the strange feelings associated with the new clothes or time to ponder on the big questions like: Why are we here? How did I become a girl? How am I going to bring myself to accept the new anatomy?

There is only time to respond to the fast flying requests for modeling. I think that being busy has kept me distracted and has prevented a meltdown. I am pretty sure that the project manager understands this and is intentionally keeping me distracted.

That is good… I think.

Once we are through with the skirts we look at the slacks that Marla found. Many don’t fit quite right and are rejected. It seems that finding the perfect fit is harder for girls since they come in so many variations on the basic shape. There is a mini-crisis when the white Capri pants are modeled. Apparently you have to watch what you wear under thin white fabric. The leopard print of my bikini panties is rather obvious. Panty lines are also an issue to the fashion consultants. This kicks off another involved technical discussion that is beyond me. Marla reminds Mom that the thong is the best solution to avoid panty lines so it is agreed that some thongs will be added to the inventory.  In the interest of the tight schedule the decision is made to skip modeling the thongs–phew, thank goodness!

Marla is being kept busy at the cash register. I am beginning to wonder if the suitcases will hold everything but, I am told, it is not my problem right now.

Now it is time for the dresses. I think that Mrs. Mercer wants a baby daughter again or at least a girly girl daughter. The color pink and frills predominate her selections. Now I join the teen contingent in open rebellion though not with the same focus. If I have to wear dresses at least I don't need to look like Shirley Temple! I don't need some of the dresses selected by the younger girls either.

Marla has me try on a dress that barely covers anything private and we end up back in the skirt length argument with the same results as last time–thankfully. I feel pretty exposed in that dress. I don’t understand why the girls like them so short. I know why we guys like them so short–even the good boys can’t help getting a bit excited by short skirts, let's face it, short skirts get lots of attention from guys–which is a strong case for the new me to keep them a lot longer. I'm not ready to be lusted after. I may have switched teams but I haven't had time to assimilate the culture.  I haven't thought about boys from the feminine viewpoint and don't even want to go there until there is time to examine the issue in some depth. This is hardly the time to open that can particular of worms.

From the conversation swirling around me I gather that the girl needs dresses for casual events (school, hanging at the mall–not!–or the odd casual date–oh no!), semi formal events (like church, work or an outing to a concert or something like that), and formal occasions (serious dates and social events).The first dress we tried way back at the beginning of this adventure just about covers the semi-formal–or so I think, but then again what do I know? There is quite a division amongst the consultants about exactly what is really needed and for what. It is clear that dress shopping is the most difficult task of all.

In the end, they decide that maybe a go-to-church kind of dress and something casual–in addition to the first dress–will be sufficient until I (see… I can do it! I did not say ‘the girl’) develop my own style.  Apparently I don't need a full wardrobe for the immediate future. That thought sounds ominously like there more intense shopping in my near future.

After a fair amount of trial and error I (there, I said 'I' again) end up with what they call a burgundy colored ‘shirt dress' that stops just above the knee and a colorful dress that seems to have a fitted top with a skirt that flares out a bit before stopping a couple of inches below the knee. This one has ties for making a bow in the back. The shirt dress has a wide lapel collar and buttons all the way up the front. It comes with matching wide belt. A nice feature for me is the two front pockets on the hips.

While I am going through the final fitting of the colorful dress–the one with the bow–Mrs. Mercer and Laurie disappear for a while returning with about a dozen packages of hosiery. Each package consisting of a slightly different color or style. The sheer number of options is staggering. How do women keep all this straight?

Laurie opens a package and shakes out a pair of pantyhose. Brain central receives the visual signal and sends out the message that we are about to have a crisis again. There is just no way the pantyhose is going on without messing around in territory so far unexplored. While acceptance of this new body as my own has been growing over the last couple of hours I have not had to deal with the male taboo subject of female genitalia since the last pair of panties went on. This, my friend, will be extremely difficult to do.

I stand staring at her–not moving.

She starts smiling. The smile threatens to turn into a giggle.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“Well, let’s see,” she says putting a finger to her cheek and looking upward to the side mocking a contemplative look. “For the past few hours you have been trying on women’s clothes and you are currently standing in the middle of the Junior's section wearing a beautiful Sunday dress like you’ve done it all your life. Now when confronted with a bit of nylon you go into a panic. What’s the big deal?”

“Well, let’s see,” I mimic her. “For the past sixteen years or so it has been drilled into my head that certain intimate parts of the female anatomy are strictly off limits. I have been rigorously taught that I am not supposed to invade that privacy at any cost. Furthermore, I have been told, that rule will only change with marriage and only then with one woman when she is agreeable. Not to mention that every woman that I know would be extremely unhappy for me to be looking at their intimate apparel–particularly when they are wearing it. If I tried I would probably be beaten to death by the offended female and all her friends. I would be labeled as a pervert and become a social outcast. Now, here I am, getting a free view and feel of all the taboo areas on a very pretty young woman that I can’t quite accept as me. Could any of this be a problem?

“The act of putting on the panties and bra," I continue, "which we did earlier, was one of the hardest things that I have ever had to do. Not for what they are but for what they cover. Since then she has–or I have–been covered and when I look at her/me I see a pretty young girl appropriately dressed and I am not in danger of violating anyone’s personal privacy by looking upon her.

“Now, you want me to put on more intimate apparel. There is no way that I can do this without messing with the private areas of the pretty girl again. And I don't even know why all this is happening. Give me a break! I have some issues I've got to work through,” I pout.

For the first time since the group assembled there is absolute silence in the store. They all stare at me as if I’m not making any sense but they are trying to sort it out.  A feeling that I–by the way–have had for several hours now.

Finally the light seems to come on for my mother. She gives me a hug and says, “Chris, I’m so sorry. I know that this has been hard for you. It’s just that this kind of shopping is all so normal for the rest of us. Looking at you as you are now it is easy for us to forget that you haven't always been who you appear to be now.  Also, we know that you want to know what is going on and we'd love to tell you but, trust me, it is not in your best interest right now.  I wish that we could take it a little slower, but––”

“–we are running out of time,” I finish her sentence again with a sigh. I take the offending garment from Laurie and ask. “So… any advice on how to install this thing?”

My reluctant acceptance of the garment and associated situation brings smiles back to the assembled faces.

Marla comes to my aid this time. She gives me a little hug then takes the pantyhose from me and starts to gather up one of the legs. “Have a seat over there Chris,” she directs. “Now lift your right foot and let me put this on it.” She places the bunched up hosiery over my foot and starts to unfurl it up my leg; she stops when she gets to my knee.

“Try doing the same thing with the other leg," she gently directs. "The key is to gather it up then stretch it over your legs.  You don't want to pull it on like a pair of jeans because you destroy them if you do.”

“Don’t I have to take off my panties?” I ask.

“No. I suppose you can but most of us find it more comfortable to wear regular panties under our pantyhose," she explains. "You will find that wearing pantyhose is a pain after doing it for a while.” 

I proceed to do as directed, stretching the hosiery up the other leg. I get to the point where I need to stand to pull it higher. The skirt and slip get in the way and I go through some contortions to get them all the way up without catching the other clothing in the pantyhose. I am so busy managing all the fabric that I don’t notice my hands being in forbidden territory. The experience isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.

There are grins all around so I look to see if I messed it up.

“Sweetheart, we are laughing with you not at you,” Mother explains. “We all have done that many times. Most of the time you will probably put the hose on first then the dress or skirt. At least you didn’t run the pantyhose. That is quite a feat for the first time!”

With the skirt back in place I look in the mirror again. The pantyhose does look nice. The feeling of the hosiery on my legs is a totally new sensation that gets added to the inbox for later analysis.  It's not an unpleasant feeling either.  But for now it is just another sensation for brain central to sort out when there is time.

“Yep,” Laurie says. “You’ll have to shave those legs. The pantyhose will feel even better when you have smooth legs."

Looking down, I see what she means. The leg hair appears out of place. As far as the sensation goes, I'm not sure how to deal it is now.  What will be different with smooth legs?  Something else to look forward to–sigh–I guess.

“Now that you have the pantyhose in place let’s start looking at shoes!” Mrs. Mercer bubbles. Laurie has told me that her mother has more shoes than anyone can imagine. She must really know her shoes and now you can tell that she is excited to put her expertise to use.

They drag me to the shoe department to begin the next phase. None of them have used a foot sizer before and neither have I. We find one and mess with it until we figure it out. It looks as if I might wear a women’s size eight shoe, so they start looking for a pair for me to try on for size.

"Jennifer," Mom says, "remember that we only need a couple of pair.  They need to fit in the suitcases too.  We really are running very short on time so we must keep it simple."

Mrs. Mercer pouts somewhat. You can tell that she'd like to go all out in this department.

“Speaking of time,” Mom says, “Chris needs an appropriate watch and some basic jewelry. Marla, you have access to the jewelry counter don’t you?”

“Yes, Mom," Marla replies enthusiastically, "Can I take Laurie with me? She has been around Chris enough lately to know what might work with her personality.”

“That would be great, honey. Just keep it simple. And inexpensive," Mom directs. "No real diamonds!” 

Happily, the two girls depart on their quest and Mom wanders to a nearby aisle to find some socks.

In the mean time Mrs. Mercer has come up with a couple of shoe options including a pair with pointy high heels. I’m not so excited about the heels, but she assures me that they are not ‘extreme’.

First, she has me try on some clunky looking shoes with thick soles and a big fat heel. I’ve seen shoes like this on girls before. I never could figure out why they would want such thick soles–I suppose they just want to be taller. Having lost 4 inches tonight, I guess that it would be nice to recover a couple. Mrs. Mercer says that the shoes will look good with some of my jeans and pants. Maybe even the denim skirt. She finds some socks in a box by the chair that we can use while trying on shoes and slip a pair over the nylons. That feels very strange.

The shoes are a bit ‘roomy’ all around. Looks like a seven and a half will be better. A quick check finds another pair in the new size. Yep–the seven and a half is a better choice. Walking in the clunky shoes is very different than in any shoe that I've had before. They look strange with this Sunday dress as well.

“Mrs. Mercer?" I ask. “Don’t I need something nicer for the good clothes?”

“Yes, darling," she replies. "This pair of pumps that will go well with that dress and the black dress like Laurie's as well as some of your nicer slacks.” She is referring to the high heels.

‘Pumps?’ What do I need a pump for?–I ask myself. I don’t plan on wading through any swamps or anything.

The shoes in question are decidedly feminine high-heeled shoes, similar to those Laurie is wearing tonight. They are black with a silver buckle for decoration, and have two to three inch heels on them. Pointy heels. Doesn’t this look fun? Not!

“Darling, you'll need to take the socks off for these,” she directs.

While the toes are not exactly pointed they do narrow a bit before ending in a squared off toe. This looks like a tight squeeze to me. It turns out that my foot fits in the shoe surprisingly well though the toes are somewhat constricted. The challenge is standing steady on them.

“Okay, I take it, Chris, that this is your first time in heels?” Mrs. Mercer says as more of a statement than a question. “Try walking more on the balls of your feet as if you are tip toeing."  I take a few steps.

"That’s good," she says. "Now just try walking around the aisle for a couple of minutes. I need to find something more casual for everyday use,”

“I’ll try, Mrs. Mercer," I respond. "Can we get some running shoes?" I hope I'm still able to run!

“Good idea, Chris," she replies, "maybe they can double as your casual shoes for now, but we really should get you some flats when we have more time.”

Mom heard my comment about running. She calls over from a couple aisles away, “How could I forget! I’ll grab some athletic socks while I am here. Remind me to get you some running shorts, a sports bra, and a top.”

I practice walking in the heels; I am more than a bit wobbly at first, but things get better as I implement Mrs. Mercer’s advice. I just don’t know about tip-toeing everywhere. It is also very hard on the arches and calves–not to mention the toes. At least walking in these shoes should be good for stretching my shins.

Mrs. Mercer comes back with some running shoes in the right size. They are white with pink trim–definitely a feminine version of running shoe. I slip the socks back on and I try on the running shoes. They feel alright so we quit shoe shopping with only three pair of shoes. It seems more than enough for me but Mrs. Mercer assures me that I’ll want a lot more as time goes on.

Mom comes by to show me the socks she has chosen before taking them to the sales register. She is holding nothing back. There are two pair of good old athletic socks in there–thank you!. The rest are nothing like the socks in my drawer at home. Mom's selected a variety of pastel colors–including pink. Most of the socks have hearts, little loving sayings, or ‘cute’ animals on them. A couple of pair will just barely clear the top of my running shoes. There are even a couple of pairs of knee socks–for those cool winter days she says–in the mix.

In case you are wondering, I think that brain central has totally abandoned me now. It has been a while since I've heard any alarm bells. Also, I don't sense any anxiety–mostly just resignation. More disturbingly, I am beginning to detect some active curious interest from brain central in the proceedings. This is very worrisome; even my control system is joining with the women!

I hope that we are about done. After all, what more can a girl need?

A silly question, as I soon discover.

Mom, apparently, has more on her list, “Come with me, Chris, while Jennifer takes the shoes and socks to the register.”

We head into an area filled with exercise clothes. It becomes very clear that this won’t be simple either. What is it with girls? Can't they make anything simple? This girl stuff is very complicated.

There are one piece suits that I discover are called leotards. They come in an infinite array of styles, colors, and patterns. There are sports bras, also in a dizzying array of shapes and colors. There are special leggings for purposes that I can’t imagine. Then there are the tights. Tights appear to basically be heavy duty pantyhose. And there is the special wicking underpants–oops! Panties–and don’t forget the headbands, wrist bands, spandex, shorts and running tops–why can’t they call them shirts like the other ‘team’? This section also stocks accessories such as water bottles, sunglasses, and the like.

It is a good thing that we are running out of time.

Mom spots the sports bras and picks out a couple of likely candidates and turns to me. Noticing that I am still in the church dress, she ponders the need to have me disrobe to try on the bras. That will take time. After a few moments I can tell by the look in her eyes that she has found a solution.

“Turn around, sweetheart, and let me unzip you," she directs. "We’ll just drop the top of the dress down so that you can try these on. These are hard to fit, so you have to try them on.”

We are about to go back into no man’s land–bare breasts. I am waiting for the panic signal from brain central but all I get is a interested go for it, that bra looks like it will be useful when you're running. What??? Something weird is going on with my mental facilities–almost like acceptance of the change. I wasn't expecting that.

Mom sees my hesitation but before she can say anything I turn around so that she can do the deed with the zipper. While she is at it, she unhooks the bra that I am wearing.

Without looking directly at my breasts, I manage to get the restrictive garment off. I hadn’t realized how restricting the bra is until it came off. There is a feeling of relief as my breasts are released.

Turning back to Mom she helps me struggle into one of the sports bras. Talk about restrictive! This one is like a tight straight jacket compared the bra I just removed. Mom tells me the extra restriction is on purpose–after all, you don’t want your breasts to bounce around too much when exercising. She tells me that prolonged bouncing can be painful. Fortunately she is sticking to basic white–she didn’t have to. There were lots of other options, but I think that she is catching on to the fact that basic is good for me right now.

As stated, the bra is very tight across the chest.  But this one downright hurts as it pinches my new anatomy so we try the next one.

“How is that, sweetheart?” she asks.

“Better, but still snug.” I reply.

“But does it hurt?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Well, “she says while fiddling with it a little, “I think a larger size will be too big right now. If your bust grows much more you’ll have to move up a size. I think that we will get this and a black one for now. Before putting your dress back up, let’s find you a couple of tops.”

She has a pretty good idea of my size by now so she flips through the racks asking me about a few that she finds. I reject the ones with sayings like ‘I run like a girl, just try to keep up’ and end up with a powder blue one with white trim and a bright yellow one. The blue one has the caption “I love running”. The other says “Gotta Run”. The phrases seem innocent enough. Too bad they are plastered across the bust bringing attention to my two new additions.

After removing the sports bra she has me put the 'normal' one back on by myself–for practice she says–then helps zip up the dress again.

Next come the shorts. She finds a matching running short for the powder blue top. I am able to slip that on under the skirt of the dress. I hold the dress up for inspection to ensure we get the right thing. Next is a black pair of shorts that passes muster as well.

“I wish we had time to find you a nice leotard,” she says wistfully, “but I guess that it is not essential right now. Let’s go find the others.”

We find them busy at the register packing the suitcases.

“Look at what we found!” Marla bubbles enthusiastically. She holds up a thin silver necklace with a heart shaped pendant. “It is on sale too. Every girl needs one of these.”

“I found this one for you,” Laurie says as she shows me a gold colored chain with a running shoe charm on it. “It reminds me of you.”

She put it around my neck and fastened the clasp. The charm settles in just above the top of my dress.

“I hope that this body can run like my old one,” I sigh hopefully.

They have also found a couple of ‘cute’ silver and gold colored bracelets that they slip on my arm.

Attitudes seem to be relaxing. I hope that this is a sign that we are nearly done–it has been a long night.

Marla is back at the register ringing up the latest purchases as the mothers pack the latest items in the suitcases. It looks as if it will be tight but maybe they will fit.

As the pressure drains away I suddenly find myself getting tired and lean against the counter putting my head on Laurie’s shoulder. Her arm goes around me–I feel protected.

Mom notices and her eyes open a bit wide in alarm.

“Time is very short, ladies. We must get Chris back into his pajamas NOW!” she orders.

Back into his pajamas? I am confused again. For hours now I have been her and now I am him?  I don't think that I can handle flipping back and forth like a ping pong ball. And what do my pajamas have to do with anything?

“What?” I ask unintelligently.

“Come, Chris darling, we need to get ready to go,” Laurie says as she leads me back to the dressing room to where my pajamas are.

Suddenly I am too tired to resist. Laurie and my mother help me out of the running shoes, socks, dress, pantyhose, bra, and bikini panties. The jewelry and barrette also come off.  Mom pulls my jockey shorts up my legs then–with Laurie’s help–gets my Sponge Bob pajamas on me.

As I fade away, the last thing I hear is Mom exclaiming, “We forgot to get some sleepwear!”

“And a swimsuit,” Laurie adds.

I hope that whatever they get won’t be too racy!

“And makeup,” Marla interjects from a distance.

 

Something Feels Strange…

As I fade away, the last thing I hear is Mom exclaiming, “We forgot to get some sleepwear!”

“And a swimsuit,” Laurie adds.

I hope that whatever they get won’t be too racy!

“And makeup,” Marla interjects from a distance.

Chapter 4: Familiar Territory

“… sunny and warm today when the sun finally gets up at 6:13 this morning. We can expect a high temperature of 76 degrees later in the day. Currently it's a cool 58 degrees in the valley. And in today’s news…”

My radio alarm clock bursts into life. I reach over and shut it off. Peering through the darkness I see that it's 5:30 AM. As I recall it's also Saturday morning. Believe it or not, this is sleeping in for me. On the week days I'm usually up by five o'clock so that I can get in a good run before school. I'm a little bit obsessive about running–if you haven't figured that out yet.

Most teens will sleep the day away when they can but I suppose I'm not like most teens. Normally I like to hit the road by 6 o'clock for my long run on the weekend. During the week I start at 5:30 AM (with reflective gear and a flashing light) so that I can run with minimal interaction with crazy motorists. This morning, however, I'm feeling unusually tired–as if I didn’t sleep all night.

Wait a minute. I had a really strange dream about being up all night.

Suddenly panic sets in as parts of the dream comes flooding into my head. I leap from my bed–all thoughts of sleep instantly gone–knocking over my nightstand with a crash in the process.

Before turning on the light I quickly do a manual inspection of my body feeling for anything out of place or missing. With relief I find that everything feels normal: no stray breasts, no missing parts between my legs and my butt is the same shape as yesterday.

It takes a few minutes for me to get my heart and breathing under control. I've broken into a heavy sweat and I haven’t even started my warm ups yet.

I turn on my light and straightening up my nightstand and find all is as it should be. The feeling of relief is incredible. I'm very happy to be back in familiar territory.

Finding my way down the hall to the bathroom, I take care of lightening my bladder and cleaning my teeth. Looking in the mirror I see the same old me. No surprises this morning. It feels good to have short hair. It's also good to see that my hair is dark, as it should be, instead of blonde. Everyone in our family has dark hair.

It looks as if today might be a shaving day too. That is my face will need to be shaved today–in case you were curious. I'll take care of that after the run.

"It's good to see you this morning," I say to the image in the mirror. My voice is back to normal as well. A full octave lower than last night's dream. Though I did like the feminine sound of the voice in my dream my normal–male–voice is infinitely more desirable in my natural body.  My voice has really deepened over the last year or so and I like it that way.

Back in my room I peel off the Sponge Bob pajamas and pull on a jock-strap, some running shorts and a T-shirt. I find some clean socks, grab my shoes and head for the front lawn. After putting on my footwear I go through my warm up and stretching routine as the sun starts to lighten the sky with the first hint of dawn. All is as it should be. The thought makes me smile.

Once I hit the road I spend the first couple of miles getting warmed up and into my stride. I've been doing this for a couple of years now so it doesn’t take me long to get into the runner’s high. Endorphins are the best drugs in the world and I'm a hopeless addict.

As I settle into my pace I go on autopilot and enter meditation mode. This is the best time of day: there's no one to bother me except for the occasional murderous driver. This is the time that I use to put the world in order in my mind. This is the time where I can make sense of life's challenges without interruption. This is how I mentally survive being a teenager.

The agenda today? The last twenty four hours have provided more than enough subject material. Well, let’s see. As I review my life I settle on four topics for this morning's meditation: Laurie's baffling disappearance, how to deal with the impacts on our relationship of my upcoming departure to work the summer at a boy scout camp in the mountains, next week's final exams, and last–and definitely not the least–is to come to grips with last night's very realistic dream. 

Laurie’s disappearance yesterday is disturbing. She didn’t answer her cell phone, text messages, emails or anything. No one answered at her house yesterday either. It seemed that the phone was off the hook. No one at school–even her best girl friends–knew where she was. I'd stopped by her home after school but it appeared that no one was there. I may just pass her house while running so I can see if her mother’s Subaru is there. She didn’t mention anything about going anywhere when we had our study date on Thursday evening at the public library. This is so unlike her. Laurie is an only child of a widowed mother, so there are no siblings to seek out for information either. I hope that nothing bad has happened.

My meditative state is broken by one of those drivers who seem to disregard everything but themselves. Fortunately–from long experience–I hear the threat coming. The idiot is coming up behind me and turns right in front of me into a side street. Obviously he thinks he can get there before me and I have to slow down to avoid being run over as he makes the turn in his silver Lexus SUV. I slap his tailgate as he goes by. Idiot!

After fuming for a few minutes I return to contemplative mode.

As far as the summer camp goes, Laurie has been upset with my decision to do this since I first signed on.  I have to leave a week from tomorrow, so I don't have much time to find a way to make her understand and get on board with the decision. She was looking forward to a summer of hanging out together and, frankly, so was I but this is a great opportunity to get some good work experience.  It'll also look great on college and scholarship applications. This is Laurie’s last summer as a high school student. She will be a senior next year. I'll be a junior though I'm ahead in credits. I hope to graduate a semester early and join her at college midway through her Freshman year. Anyway, it's time for me to start preparing my resume for college and this is a great opportunity. Working at camp ought to be fun in addition to being a valuable work experience. Regardless of all the good reasons, she's not at all happy about the separation. I hope that it doesn’t end our relationship. It is, however, something that I must do. I'm a little apprehensive that the separation might be too long and she will fall for someone else while I'm gone. I think our relationship is solid enough to survive the summer, but you never know. A couple of other–older–guys have shown an interest in her lately.  She doesn't have to worry about me as it's not likely that I'll find another girlfriend in a Boy Scout camp.

What is strange about the job is that my parents were a more than a little hesitant about the camp job. That surprised me–a lot.  They have always encouraged me to stretch myself through the scouting program.  Great leadership training, they say.  Lately though, they seem to have dropped all objections to my absence this summer.  Indeed, they are enthusiastically supporting it.  Almost to the point where I'm starting to think that they are looking forward to sending me out the door. 

Next on my contemplation list are final exams: the bane of every high schooler's life–or so my classmates say. I hear that they are even 'worse' for college students. At least that is what Tiff tells me. Personally, I kind of like the exams.  They are great opportunities to show what I know, after all I've worked hard to learn all this stuff.  It's fun to show off.  Like I said, I'm not your typical teenager.

So far I've solid As going in my band, PE, pre-calculus, physics, and computer programming classes.  I'm feeling good about my technical writing class also, but not quite so strong as in the others.  The history grade, however, is highly dependent on a good exam performance. I'm going to have to work hard on that one. Fortunately, history is Laurie's strong subject and she has agreed to help me prepare for the exam. I'm hoping that she surfaces today so that we can get together to work on it this afternoon.

Finally, I'm still rattled by last night's dream/nightmare. It seemed so real–and unsettling in so many ways. It looks as if the dream will occupy the majority of my meditation time during my run today. Being Saturday this was a long run of sixteen miles and ought to take a little over two hours since I'm not ready to start pushing it hard yet. Strangely I'm feeling quite sluggish today despite the endorphins.

As I recalled the details of the dream, I start trying to identify what was so disturbing about it. Was it being drafted into the female ranks?  Maybe it was having to wear all those female clothes? Or how my sister revealed her suppressed hostility? Or how Laurie seemed to abandon our boyfriend/girlfriend relationship so easily? Or was it being ganged up on by four women who seemed to know everything but were unwilling to tell me? I just hate being the only one not to get the punch line of a joke or story, though I'm used to secretive, 'need-to-know', people and situations.

I live in a California town with a huge government laboratory.  It is one of the major employers in the area and rumor has it that work there covers just about everything from nuclear physics to bioengineering and chemical systems of all types.  No one really know for sure what goes on out there except those who work there and they are not talking.  They certainly have enough people at the Lab to do a wide variety of things.  In fact, both of my parents work there; Dad has a Ph.D. in physics and works directly for the laboratory and the company that Mom works for has a standing contract with the Lab, but unrelated to whatever it is that Dad does.  Like all the other employees at the laboratory, they deflect the conversation to other topics whenever someone asks about the details of what they do out there.  After awhile you just kinda get used to the lack of answers.  Like in the dream last night.

All those issues are unsettling, but actually, I think what probably bothered me the most was that some pretty major life rules had changed for me for a short time. I really hate it when someone changes the rules.

The rules that I'd been taught about the relations of the sexes are pretty strong. And they have always made sense to me. Girls are girls and boys are boys. Certain expectations are made of each gender and I've been happy with that. Those expectations change with time and society, I suppose, and we get to choose how we meet those expectations. However we don’t have any choice in our birth sex. I'm happy that my birth sex has never been a problem for me. I've never spent any time seriously contemplating gender identity issues because I haven't felt the need. Like everyone else I know people for whom gender identity and sexual orientation are real issues but I've not been one of them. Several of my acquaintances over the years have struggled with gender identity and the conflict has not looked like fun. I'm grateful to not have that complication thrown on top of everything else going on in my life. To me gender identity and sexual orientation are a private matters that don't define a person as good or bad. Unfortunately not everyone seems to feel that way. Hey, we're all different in some way.

As far as gender rules and roles are concerned, it seems that many of them are in place to encourage people to be respectful of each other and to account for the obvious emotional and physical differences between the sexes. It would seem that things go better when there's mutual respect and allowance for individual preferences. 

One of the strongest rules that I've learned relates to a person's sense of privacy. I like my privacy and it only seems fair to grant that right to others. The privacy that has been most sacred to the women in my life has been related to their personal intimacy. I guess the same goes for me and most guys as well. I doubt that I would willing walk down the street naked, or even through our living room if any females were there. I don’t, however, have any problem walking through a locker room full of naked guys–I've been doing that ever since I was a small kid so it's no big deal.

Give me even a peek at an naked or scantily clad woman, however, and all sorts of uncomfortable things happen in my mind, as you might have noticed. This discomfort may be due to trauma in my youth.  I've always been aware of the need to respect the privacy of my sisters, but when I was about 10 yrs old, I wandered into Tiff’s room once when she was wearing only her underwear. Mom had to rescue me before Tiff beat me to a pulp. That day I got a long lecture about respecting the privacy of others, in particularly that of my sisters and women in general. Since then, I've been absolutely scrupulous about giving my sisters and other females their space and respecting their privacy. They have done the same for me. Things work well that way.

To suddenly be on their ‘team’ and to be fully exposed to their intimate details without any consequences was unsettling. I never expected to feel a real breast or fondle a vagina until my marriage night. If last night was a real experience, then I can check off the breast feeling from my list of things to do but I'm still totally ignorant about the vagina. The breast feeling wasn’t exploratory either so maybe I can’t count that.

The other thing that bothers me is that I didn’t seem too disturbed by the clothing during the shopping session.  Once I got over the initial shock it wasn't so bad.  Just a couple of hiccups when faced with the skirt and pantyhose.  And in both those cases it wasn't the clothing in particular but the act of dressing that was the problem since my hands violated sacred female body parts and my eyes were exposed to things that young boys don't really need to be seeing. What does that say about my sexuality? In fact, when my anxiety levels had dropped below survival mode and in the few times the women gave some me some breathing room I found the sensations were intriguing. Given more time I would've liked to explore those feelings.

In reflection I found the overall experience interesting in a non-sexual way. If I hadn't been so panicked about my personal safety or breaking solemn rules of privacy maybe I could have focused more on the experience and learned more about what it's like to be a woman.  That could have been useful. Well the opportunity is lost if it was ever even really there.

I once heard on a radio talk show that most people are fairly neutral about their sexuality with the average man being offset a little to one side of the center of the sexuality spectrum and the average woman being offset just a little to the other side. The distribution of male and female sexuality tends to overlap in the center with individuals whose personalities are such that they would be happy regardless of the sex they end up as. There are others that tend to the extremes with real manly men/girly girls who would panic if they changed sex and the girly men/manly women who long to change sex, but they are the outliers. Most people are happy with the gender cards that they have been dealt. Since only looking at a woman's exposed anatomy bothers me in the context of the rules that I've learned and not the wearing of their clothes or accessories, maybe I'm one of those gender neutral personalities that could be happy being either sex. That is an interesting thought but I don't see any way to verify it.

Sure, I like a lot of things about being a guy–I listed them earlier. Besides the fact that I don’t really understand them all that well, women generally appear to be happy as women. Maybe it's because I've spent all my life around a houseful of females, but I like to do some of the things they do as well as the normal guy things. I suspect that if I'd been born female I would've been content with that role just as I'm now content with the male role.

What would happen if I suddenly changed ‘teams’ like last night? Could I adapt to that once I got over the change in uniform and the change in rules? That sort of thing doesn’t happen so I guess that I'll never know so it's not worth spending too much time on.  Regardless, it's an intriguing thought.

All this thinking was getting deeper than I care to go. I need more information if I'm to get much further with this line of thought. I am broken out of deep thought anyway by another maniac behind the wheel. This one–a young woman in a red Mazada Miata sports car–also tries to take me out on a cross street like the Lexus did earlier. She almost succeeds! I must have really been into deep thought because I didn't even see her coming.  I did stop in time to let her pass. Again, I'm used to this kind of abuse from drivers so it doesn't disturb me too much. It happens almost every day.

I chastise myself for not being more observant and return to meditation mode.

Laurie’s reaction to the whole sex swap thing bothers me too. After all, I thought that she liked having me for a boyfriend. Why was she apparently nonchalant that I switched teams? She seemed to like having me as another of her good girl friends as much as I thought that she liked me as her boyfriend. I would've expected her to show a sense of loss but there was none of that in the dream.

As I think about this new twist, I find the new thought even more disturbing than the change of rules. It seems that she might not have the same hopes as I do regarding our long term relationship. That idea hurts a lot. Could she be mad at me for leaving this summer? I don't know.

People keep telling us that since we're still teenagers the odds are heavily weighted against our romantic relationship lasting forever. Almost every adult that I know has shared with us stories of their first loves and the heartache associated with the dissolution of those relationships. One of my scout leaders even estimates that 95% of all teenage romances end in heartbreak. He counsels us all to avoid developing too close of relations with girls until we're 'old enough to handle it.'  Those aren't very good odds. If last night's dream was reality then it could mean that she has either been deceiving me about her affections or that she will be the first to move on from our relationship in the natural progression of life. Good thing it was only a dream.  I really hope that it was only a dream. I  have been hoping that we can beat the odds. Nevertheless I think that I must talk with her to see where we stand and where we're going. I ought to do this before leaving for camp.

So... was it a dream or reality?

I've heard that you don’t learn new things in a dream. Dreams only work from things already in present your mind. I’m pretty sure that I learned a lot about female attire that I never knew before–even after spending my life with a mother and two sisters. I also learned a thing or two about my sister that I didn't know before–that is if the dream was reality. I never would've guessed that she felt put upon by me and other men.  I wonder where that came from?  I guess that she did give me a few clues.

It's also true that dreams often don't make sense. Bizarre things have happened often in my past dreams. Last night was certainly bizarre in many ways but also perfectly plausible in others. For example, how can you magically appear somewhere with a total sex change? How could we have exclusive use of a big store for most of the night? Like I said: Bizarre. But then again, all the shopping with the ladies was possible–it certainly FELT real–both the clothes and the panic. There was none of that strange morphing of scenes and shapes that often happens in dreams as they progress. Things just aren’t computing well.

These thoughts continue to distract me while I run. I hardly notice where I am until I find myself passing Laurie’s house. It was good to see her mother’s little Subaru Outback parked in the driveway. I’ll have to check in with the Mercers later this morning.

Before I know it I'm on the home stretch. It was a good run even though I'm feeling sluggish. I missed most of the landscape and physical exertion due to all the heavy thinking. Unfortunately, even after a two hour meditation, I've yet to come to any real conclusions.

It's eight thirty by the time I'm done with my warm down and enter the house. Dad is sitting at the breakfast table in the kitchen reading the morning paper. He looks tired.

“Mornin' son,” he greets me. "How was your run?"

"It went well, thanks," I respond.  "Only a couple of near death experiences this time"

"At least you survived them," he says without concern.  He has heard all about them before. “You have any plans for the day?”

“I'm hoping the meet up with Laurie a little later," I respond. "I need her help studying for my history final exam.”

“Too bad, I was looking for someone that wanted to go for a hike this afternoon," he says. "I need to get some fresh air and exercise.  Maybe I can get your mother to go, if she ever gets up this morning.”

It seems strange that Mom is still in bed. She's usually up before Dad and my sisters. Marla on the other hand, probably won’t pop out of her room until she has to get ready for her afternoon shift at the store. That is her standard operating procedure.

“Good luck getting mom to go, Dad," I say. "I'd like to spend an afternoon with you before I head out for camp.  How about next Saturday?"

"Maybe. I might have to leave town tonight and I don't know when I'll be back," he replies. "I hope to be back for Marla's graduation on Thursday. I'd like to spend the afternoon with you. I'm going to miss having you around this summer. I think that there will be shortage of 'guy' time around here this year with you gone."

"I'll certainly get enough guy time this summer," I laugh. "We'll work something out before I go. Right now I think I’ll get in the shower while I can. Oh, by the way, is Mom a good dancer?”

“What? Sure. I think she is. She used to be. We haven’t been to a dance in ages. Why do you ask?”  He responds with a questioning look.

“Oh I had this weird dream last night. She seemed a pro at sidestepping and dancing around questions that she doesn’t want to answer,” I said.

“Well she's good at that but I’m not sure how that relates to dancing.” He said.

“Oh well… it's nothing–just an odd thought that passed through my mind,” I say as I head for the shower.

After shaving (my face–I do it a couple of times a week now) and taking a shower I throw on some jeans and a T-shirt and grab my cell phone out of my book pack while heading to the kitchen to scrounge up some breakfast. I notice that there's a text message from Laurie. It reads “Sry abt ystrdy. Libry at 1? Lv L”

So she surfaces! The strange thing is that this message was sent at 4:12 AM. Laurie is never up that early. Maybe she was just going to bed? I try calling her cell but it's apparently off as it instantly reverts to voice mail. She likes text messages better than voice mail so I send her one back: “Libry at 1! Lv C”

Dad is still at the breakfast table doing some paperwork. As I fix my bowl of cereal he asks if I'm going to have another semester of straight A’s. We chat about the history exam challenge for a while. Being a scientist he has mixed feelings about history in general and tries to persuade me that it's valuable to know about the events that shaped our society. It's a hard sell as I don't see what impact most of this stuff has on my plans.

“Dad, why is Mom still in bed? Is she sick?” I ask.

“No, apparently Jennifer Mercer had some kind of family crisis,” He says. “Your mother went over to help out last night. I guess that she got in late. I was asleep when she got home. I figured that you would know about it since you and are Laurie are such good friends.”

Our mothers have become good friends since we started dating. Laurie and I figure that it's a plot to keep tabs on us. It's hard to get into too much trouble when your mothers are comparing notes on a daily basis.

“No… Laurie dropped off the map yesterday. I wasn’t able to get a hold of her at all,” I mentioned. “Was Marla out last night? I don’t remember her taking off before I went to bed.”

“You went to bed pretty early last night," he pointed out. "Marla left with some of her girl friends to a late movie I think. She wasn’t home yet when I fell asleep on the couch around eleven o'clock. It was a pretty quiet night around here.”

“Must have been pretty boring,” I observe.

“It was. There wasn't much on TV either.  I spent some time reading technical journals. You know, I miss the days when you weren’t distracted by that young lady. We used to have some good times at the spur of the moment. I suppose that it just part of your growing up.  You know, I like her even though I have to compete with her for your attention. She's a pretty special girl. Just be nice to her.” He admonishes me.

“Sure, Dad, I like her to. We're good friends,” I assure him.

The rest of the morning is spent taking care of a few chores and visiting with Dad. He's a pretty good guy for an adult and he's much more laid back than Mom. Mom gets pretty intense sometimes, particular when she's focused on some project. Which is just about always. Her behavior in my dream last night was pretty typical for her.

Marla came crashing through the kitchen with barely enough time to grab a banana before heading off for work. After last night's revelations, I figured that I ought to be nice to her and see what happens. To this end, I have a sandwich, a banana, and a yogurt in a bag ready for her when she comes blasting through. She gets a shocked expression on her face when I hand her my creation. She stares at me for a couple of seconds before saying "Thanks" with a confused look on her face. I just smile at her. She isn't sure of what to make of this act of kindness. She gives me a little hug before looking at me closely again and heading out the door. Strange.

Mom rolled out into the family public space just as I was leaving for the library. After having fun shaking up Marla I thought it would be fun to mess with Mom's mind a little so I gave her a hug and a "I love you" before heading out the door. She was speechless.

The library is only a mile from the house so I walked to it for my study date with Laurie.

We have our special corner where we study. It's out of the way and we can talk quietly without disturbing anybody else. She's already there when I arrive. She looks bright and perky as usual and gives me a welcoming kiss. I like studying with her.

“Hey, beautiful, where were you yesterday?” I ask.

“Oh… sorry about that, but we had a family emergency pop up unexpectedly. My mother’s sister–Aunt Polly–called from Alaska. Apparently my uncle was injured in a military training accident. His helicopter went down on a glacier in some remote location and they couldn’t find him all day. Aunt Polly was a wreck. We spent hours talking with her on her cell phone as she waited for updates on the search. They finally found him late in the evening. He was injured pretty bad and will be laid up for a while. He was still unconscious when they brought him in. The doctors were afraid that he might be in a deep coma. Fortunately he came out of it somewhere around one this morning. He definitely is suffering from hypothermia. His injures are bad enough that he will be in the hospital for at least a couple of weeks. We spent hours on the phone and computer helping her take care of her affairs. Fortunately the poor woman is pretty capable with finances and stuff since Uncle Bill has been deployed a lot. Now that he's laid up she feels the need to stay with him and advocate for him in the medical system.  There's just too much to do and she doesn’t know how she'll get it all done. I think that she's going to need a lot of help taking care of things. To top things off my cousin Kristina is not helping out at all.  In fact, she's a project all by herself. She has been getting into trouble at school and has developed quite an attitude from what we hear. Your mother came over to lend moral support after you went to bed. We were up pretty late.”

"So," I ask, "Are you guys all right? I tried stopping by your house yesterday and no one answered the door."

“I received your messages,” she says, ”but didn’t want to leave Mom alone for even a minute to respond. Sorry! We did go out for a while to send some document by FedEx to my Aunt. That took some time. You must have stopped by when we were gone.”

“I was worried,” I said. “Yesterday was the first day all year that we haven’t spent time together but it sounds as if you had a decent excuse. I figured that it must be serious for you to drop off the map like that. Nobody knew what happened to you. Shouldn't you be supporting your mother and family again today?"

"No need," she replies. "There's not much for me to do to help today, plus I must make up for the lost day at school... and with you.  Also, I need your help preparing for my math final. Mom's busy today trying to arrange things so that she can go up to help. Unfortunately, she's not sure that she can get the time off work."  She smiles and adds, "Plus she doesn't want me to be left unsupervised with you around." That is followed by another kiss.

"You know that my mother is a good enough chaperone for a dozen kids. Leaving you behind with me shouldn't be a problem," I laugh. "What is going to happen with your relatives?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I think that Mom is considering inviting cousin Kris to stay with us this summer so that Aunt Polly can focus on getting Uncle Bill through this challenge. Since you're abandoning me this summer” she quips, “I need to have another Kris in my life.”

“Is this Kris such a handful?” I ask.

“Not normally," she replies. "She's pretty bright and is ahead in school. We think that she just got hooked up with the wrong crowd in the past few months. It's hoped that a separation will help her to see the error of her ways. We have the room here and it'll fun having another girl around the house. Mom and Aunt Polly also seem to think that Kris needs to have a supervised away-from-home experience along with some work experience.  If she comes we'll have to help her find a job. Mom will make sure that the girl is kept busy and out of trouble. That means that I'll have to be busy too. Mom wants me to get a job this summer."

“There are worse things that work," I point out. "Such as being bored to death. How old is this wayward child?”

“Actually she's essentially your age. In fact I think that she was born the same month as you. Maybe it's a good thing that you'll be gone. That way she can’t steal you away from me!” She smiles then gives me another, more passionate, kiss.

Turning the tables she asks about my day yesterday. I fill her in a bit, but don't mention the dream.  If it was really just a dream it would be embarrassing to talk about it.

“How about making up for yesterday by going to the early movie with me tonight after we study? We can get some pizza for dinner too," I suggest. "I won't be able to stay out late tonight as I didn't sleep too well last night. I'll need to get my 'beauty' sleep tonight.”

She looks at me strangely but exclaims “I would love that!”

She continues, "I was up late last night too, so I suspect that an early night will do both of us good. What kept you up?"

"Actually, I think that I slept all night. It's just that I had this realistic dream that really wore me out." I said

"Oh? What was the dream?" She asks with great interest.

"Nothing much," I hedge. "It was just weird and I can't make any sense of it. It's hard to explain. Lots of nonsense." Make that I don't want to explain it.

I can tell that she wants to talk about it, but decides not to. "Dreams are that way. Most of them make no sense at all," she says, letting the subject drop.

I guess it must have been a dream last night after all. Judging from all the kisses I've collected so far, it sure looks as if she really likes me as a boyfriend. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that maybe it wasn’t a dream. But how could that be? Such things as complete sex changes just don’t happen–particularly twice in the same night.

Yeah... I'm now pretty sure that last night's experience was a dream. I suspect that Marla, Mom, or Laurie would've spilled the beans somehow if it hadn't been.

I feel somewhat relieved to have arrived at this conclusion. I like things orderly and a shake up like that which happened in the dream would've seriously messed with my sense of order. Although, somewhere back up in Brain Central there's an unexplained thought that it would be interesting to give the sex swap a whirl for a while. Fortunately, it is only a passing thought. Anyway, this is not the time to dwell on the dream and its ramifications. There's work to be done.

We spend the afternoon helping each other prepare for next week's final exams. Dreams and crazy drivers are long forgotten as the afternoon progresses. It's just great to be together and we both enjoy the afternoon.

After checking in with the parental units, we borrow my dad's car and go out for pizza and then to the multiplex for a movie. Laurie wants to see the latest romantic comedy which is fine by me because those movies usually translate into warm fuzzy feelings which–in turn–result in a lot more snuggling and kisses at the theatre and on the way home.

As we say good night at her house I notice that she's wearing a new necklace. I don't know why I hadn't noticed it earlier. I guess that I'm not all that observant at times. Anyway the necklace looks disturbingly familiar. Hanging from a delicate gold chain around her neck is a gold colored charm in the shape of a running shoe.

As I look at it closely she says, “It reminds me of you,”

and winks at me before heading inside.

Something Feels Strange…

As we say good night, I notice that she is wearing a new necklace. I don't know why I hadn't noticed it earlier. I guess that I am not all that observant at times. Anyway the necklace looks disturbingly familiar. Hanging from a delicate gold chain around her neck is a gold colored charm in the shape of a running shoe.

As I look at it, she says “It reminds me of you,”

and winks at me before heading inside.

Chapter 5: Not Again!

My sense of smell receives the initial assault. There is an overwhelming smell of strong chemicals.  I’ve smelled this before.  When I was a child.  When my mother took me to the salon where I had to wait while she had something done to her hair.  I am afraid to open my eyes.

Next I notice hands massaging my wet hair under a stream of warm water.  I am laid back in a comfortable chair.  It feels very strange.  And very real.  It is also comfortable.

Uh oh!  I think that I want to go back to sleep!  It’s been a week now since the last dream/nightmare.  I had thought that I was past it.

“Well...” I hear an unfamiliar feminine voice say, “Sleeping Beauty awakes!”

She must have noticed me getting tense.

I open my eyes.  I am looking up into the face of a young woman with spiky hair.  Purple hair.  She has quite a few piercings. It is enough to frighten small children, and me too!  I give a start, which causes her to laugh.

“Hi.” She bubbles. “My name’s Samantha, but all my friends call me Sam. Welcome to my little corner of the world.  I’ll be turning you into a new girl tonight.”

You have no idea, I think to myself.  I have a pretty good idea that the process is already well along its way.

“You were really out of it when they brought you here, Honey–like the walking dead.  I figured you were on drugs or something.  They told me that you’d snap out of it, but I had my doubts.  It’s a good thing that I like Amanda, or I wouldn’t have come in so late on a Saturday night for a comatose girl.  Whatever you are doing tomorrow must be quite the deal to warrant paying double to keep me here tonight.  Amanda said that it couldn’t wait.  Too bad she said that I can’t ask you about it–I suspect something juicy.  Coming in the back door just adds to the excitement.  I don’t suspect that it has anything to do with that hunk that helped you in here?  For your sake, I really hope that I am wrong.  He looks pretty delicious, but he looks a bit too old for you.  Oh well, the choice for me tonight was to either work with you or watch some movie on TV.” She sighed, “By myself.  But 10pm is a bit late to get started on a complete makeover.  We’ll be here for hours.”

I get the impression that Samantha could talk non-stop all night without much prompting.

“Don’t move, Honey.  I’ll let the conditioner soak into your hair for a second while I let Amanda know that you are with us now.” She says as she wanders off somewhere. 

One week and a day. That’s how long it has been since THE DREAM. In that week there was no real indication that the dream was any more than just that–a dream. I was starting to think that maybe that is just what it was–a dream.

There have, however been a number of coincidences: for example, there’s Laurie’s necklace. That is just so strange–it’s like déjá  vu whenever I see it–she has been wearing it every day.  However, there is nothing too strange about our relationship.  If anything she is more affectionate and seems to find every possible excuse to be by my side, not that I’m complaining, I chalk it up to the coming separation.  I am supposed to leave on Sunday.  Tomorrow.

Then there are the two mothers: it is hard to put a finger on it, but they are acting somewhat differently towards me for some reason–as if they are closely watching me. 

Laurie’s mom had been unable to get up to help her sister until today, but they have been setting alight the telephone lines between here and Alaska every evening. 

Mrs. Mercer and Laurie took a late afternoon flight to Alaska today.  I drove them to the airport so that I could say goodbye for the summer.  Both Laurie and I were a little misty eyed as I left her at the security check point.  I watched her until she got to the other side where she blew me a kiss before heading off to her gate.  They will be gone for eight days.  Cousin Kris will probably be coming back with them.

Marla was the strangest of all.  Every time we are around together, she stares at me when she thinks that I am not looking.  Not only that, but she seems to be less of a prankster this week, as if she’s a bit uncomfortable around me, like she’s bursting with a secret that she can’t tell. This behavior is the only indication that I have had that keeps me from completely discounting the dream as a dream.  She graduated from high school on Thursday so she hasn’t been around much. She has spent a lot of time with her friends when not at work. I think that she has been relieved to stay away.  I know that I appreciated it.

I had been apprehensive about Monday.  I recalled the dream indicating that on Monday I was going to have to go to school as a girl.  I was pretty relieved when that didn’t happen.  That is one curve that I DID NOT need during finals week.  That was further indication to me that the whole event was actually a dream.

Final exams went well.  I finished with straight As. Again. It turned out that the history exam was much easier than anticipated.

Dad made it back from wherever it is that he goes to be here for Marla’s graduation.  She was pretty happy about that.  Earlier this morning, he and I went for that hike up in the hills overlooking the valley.  I skipped my run to be with him.  We spent some time sitting under an oak tree looking over the valley talking about the things that fathers and sons talk about. He gave me what wisdom a father can about love, life, and success.  It was almost like a farewell talk.  You know, one of those times when you reminisce about the past and get advice about how to conduct yourself in the future.  I’m just leaving for nine weeks.  You’d think that we are never going to see each other again.  We got back in time so that I could take Laurie out for a pizza lunch before taking her and her mother to the airport.

I was home early enough so that I could finish packing for camp.  Dad and I were planning to leave before 7 AM so that we can get to the scout camp up in the Sierras by noon.  This meant an early bed time so that I can get in a short run before we leave.

I have been contemplating the dream this week. A lot more that I had time for.  Even with final exams to distract me it has never been far from my mind.  I hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that there is a message in there somewhere for me.  My runs have been much shorter this week–five to seven miles a day–due to needing time for study, so my contemplation time hasn’t been what I would have liked it to be.

One offshoot of the dream is that I have been paying more attention to girls.  Well at least to what they are wearing. I’ve even noticed the odd panty line from time to time and thought about how they could avoid them.  Something that I have never done before.  Laurie seems to have noticed me looking at the other girls, which is embarrassing for me, but when she does notice, she doesn’t seem to mind.  Instead, she asks me questions about what I think about what they are wearing.  She has explained a bit about the intricacies of female attire, sticking to the more public pieces.  Thank you very much.  She has been trying to get me to understand the differences in colors, their various names and how they relate to one another.  I think I am a hopeless cause.

I couldn’t help but wonder, sometimes, what some of the clothes would look like on the female version of me.  I’m not tempted to wear them myself in my male form because that would look just too weird.  There is no way that they would fit well.  My frame is obviously male, even if it is skinny.  I doubt that I can pass for female no matter how much assistance that I can get.  It just won’t work to wear female clothing, in my male form, but in the female form things would fit nicely and some would even look good.  It was an intriguing thought that reoccurred throughout the week.

I have also been watching their mannerisms.  I am still as baffled by female mannerisms as any guy, but I spent a noticeable amount of time trying to see what it is that they do that is different from what guys do.  It has been an interesting study.  One that will take a long time to yield substantial results.

“Well Kris!,”  I hear mom’s voice. “That must have been some graduation party you went to!  You know that I will have to tell your aunt Jennifer about it when she gets back.”

“Ah...”, I begin to say before being cut off.

Okay... the strangeness is back.  Big time.  However, I can take the hint.  I am a straight A student after all.  It would appear that Mrs. Mercer is now my aunt Jennifer and that makes Laurie my cousin.  This is, apparently, a continuation of last week’s dream.  It is also clear that Samantha here is not in on the plan.  This makes things awkward, as I still have a list of unanswered questions to go over.

“Mrs. Quinn”, I say, following the prompts, “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember what happened.  Where are we?”

“I should think you wouldn’t remember what is going on.”  the lecture continues.  “I had to track you down and bring you here.  You apparently ‘forgot’ about tomorrow.  I had to use my special secret treatment for intoxication to bring you around.  I am glad to see that it is working.  Oh, and we are at ‘A Unique Style’, Sam’s beauty salon, just so you know.”

Brain central kicks in gear and sends out a stream of messages:  Don’t panic.  Last time didn’t work out too bad.  This has a high probability of being just another dream.  Go with the flow.

Apparently there has been a little reprogramming going on since the last dream.  We are better prepared for the strangeness this time around.

“So, Kris is it?” starts Samantha, “Is that short for Kristine or Kristina?”

“Ah.. Kristina.” I guess.  Apparently correctly.  I can’t see my mom for visual clues since I can’t move my head right now.  I am staring at the ceiling as Samantha is rinsing the conditioner out of my hair.

“Well Kris”, continues Sam, “What HAVE you been doing, or should I say, NOT DOING, with your hair!?!?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer. “It is a mess. I don’t think that I’ve seen split ends like this in, like forever.  If your hair wasn’t so short, I’d say that you have never had a haircut before.”

“Amanda here, “ Sam goes on, “tells me that you just need a trim.  Honey, if you want, I think that we can do so much better than that.  While your hair color is wonderful, a few pink highlights would really accent that cute strawberry color you have.  Your hair has some natural body to it, but it is still pretty straight.  A perfect candidate for a layered cut.  A layered look will make you the cutest girl this side of the Mississippi.  You’d be the envy of every girl around and the guys will follow you around like puppy dogs.  What do you say Honey?”

This all come out in a rapid waterfall of words.  And in a nearly foreign language.  I need some time to digest the dialog and work out an interpretation.

I guess that she notices the confused look on my face and jumps to conclusions.

“Still a little out of it, Honey?” She observes. “What do you think, Amanda?  Should I work magic on this girl?  It appears that Kris here is still coming out from whatever she was under.”

“I think the highlights sound interesting, but I don’t think that it suits her.  She’s a hopeless tom boy and likes to keep things simple.” Amanda gives me some more clues into my new cover story. “I agree with you that layering would look great on her, but how would that work with a pony tail?  She needs to pull her hair back when she runs.  Also, we don’t want to impose on your time too much.”

Thank goodness running is still part of my life!  Running is life for me.  As I mentioned before, it is what helps me survive all the challenges in my teenage life.  After tonight I will need another long one!

I get the impression that we are on a schedule again, but maybe not so urgent as last time.

“So she’s one of those athletic types.” Sam observes, “she sure looks pretty fit.  Layering would be a problem as some of the hair wouldn’t be long enough to be put into a pony tail.  Too bad, such potential lost!  What a shame.”

It is clear that she wants to bring all her talents to bear on the subject.  It must be hard to keep it simple.  I can sense her disappointment.

“Honey, a word of advice, stay away from the liquor and drugs if you want to keep the running thing going.  I’m sure that you have heard that before, but you need to lighten up a little.  You must have hit it pretty hard to be so out of it as when you came in.” Sam counsels. “And so early in the night to!”

“Okay,” she says, getting back to business, “we keep it simple.  I’ll part it down the middle, trim up the ends some.  How about we avoid the square cut in the back and curve it a little?  It will still rest on your shoulders and be long enough for what you like to do with it.  You’ll also be able to braid it if you want, though a little more length would be nice for that.  You ought to try a braid while working out, I think that you will find it more comfortable than a pony tail.”

“Ah... sure,” is the best that I can get out, still trying to get a handle on exactly what she wants to do.  My response seems to be adequate.

No objections come from mother dear so she must be okay with whatever is going to happen.

“Well,” she says as she sits me up.  The conditioning is done, and she is drying my head with a towel. “We’ll do the initial trim while your hair is still damp, then we’ll blow dry your hair to get a touch more body out of it.”

Sam drapes towels over my shoulders and has me move to another chair.  I notice that I am wearing a plastic bib/apron type of thing over my clothes.

I get my first look at my surroundings.  I am in a small parlor with several stations, each with a reclining chair like the one that I am in, obviously for washing hair.  There are also some chairs in stations meant for hair cutting.  Each station has a large mirror.  Over to one side are a couple of chairs with hair driers.  There are shelves with a huge number of bottles of all shapes, sizes and colors and cabinets liberally spread about.  I am sure that each bottle and tube has some chemical used to enhance the beauty of women.  There is a front counter by the door with a small waiting area that has racks of magazines.  The front counter has many products obviously for sale.  The storefront window has a large shade which is pulled down.  A door leads further back into the building.  I suspect to a storeroom and/or office area. 

In an attempt to get the conversation going, Sam asks be which high school I go to.  I’m not sure how to answer that one.

Mom, Amanda, jumps in “Kris is from Alaska.  She is visiting her aunt and cousin this summer.”

Okay, so now I have had a week to think about the last dream.  There has also been the conversations of the intervening week.  I am starting to think that last weekend’s adventure was not a dream after all.  I still can’t explain the gender changes.  Or the transport.

I can’t even remotely fathom why all this is happening–or if it really IS happening.  I am confused. Again. Still?  I am also, obviously, not in a position to raise a stink about it without involving Sam in the discussion.  A complication that I am not ready for.

I figure that the best approach is to continue looking befuddled from being under the influence.  I’ll let mom do the talking.  Hopefully, I can learn something.  Sam seems to buy the ‘she is out of it’ story and is content to chat with mom while she works on me.

The conversation turns to recent local events, the weather, the plight of women, and other topics that I don’t need to be a part of.  The two women seem to get along well enough without me.  I am simply an observer trying to glean as much information about my situation as I can.

I have a good view of the mirror.  The cute girl is back.  The damp hair is a big improvement from last week.  Sam is combing her hair and snipping away with scissors.  Since we are keeping things simple, it doesn’t take long to finish the trim. 

Sam goes to work with a hand held hair drier and a brush.  She gives some tips about how to work the brush and dryer to add more ‘body’ into my hair.  She cautions me about getting in a rush and using too much heat.  Apparently this will lead to all sorts of problems, not the least of which are split ends.

Sam also goes on to explain different ways of arranging the hair for various occasions.  I think that she senses that she is working with a girl that has been cut off from society way too long!  Someone that could use a little instruction.

She finishes off by pulling the sides back and clipping them together with a large plastic clip. The cute girl is even cuter. 

Thinking that things are done, I start to get up.

“Where are you going Honey?” She asks. “We still have a bit to do.”

So this is going to be more than just a haircut.  I can’t begin wonder what else she has in mind.  After all, the barber usually stops here.

“Next up is the taming of those wild eyebrows.” I am informed.

Okay, I’m not sure I like this idea.  After all, I have spent my life sharing a bathroom with two older sisters.  I have seen them plucking their faces before.  It always looked painful.

The first hair goes.  My guess is right on the money.  It hurts!

“I don’t know what they do for fashion in Alaska, Honey,” Sam says, “but you are in civilization now.  No self respecting girl can go around with eyebrows like these.” Pluck, there goes another hair.  The torture continues for a while.  When she is done, my face hurts.  The result is a pair of finely shaped, arched eyebrows.  Since they are blonde, they are not too prominent.

“Much better.” Sam pronounces.  Mom agrees.  I wait for further instructions.

“Now the fun begins.” pronounces Sam with some irony. “Get up, Honey, time to visit the torture chamber.”

This does not sound like fun.

She leads me through the door in the back of the work area that we have been in since we arrived.  The door leads to a hallway with a few doors off either side.  She opens one and the three of us go inside.  There is a table in the middle of the room and a screen in the corner.

“Before we do this, Honey,” she says, “I need to ask if using you are using Accutane, Retin A, or glycolic products.”

“No.” I reply

“And when was the last time you shaved your legs?” she asks.

“I never have,” I answer truthfully.

“You really are from the wilderness, aren’t you?  Just as well, your hair needs to be at least 1/4” long for this to work well. Go behind that screen, Honey, and take your clothes off.; Since we aren’t doing the bikini or brazilian, you can leave your underwear on if you like. There is a robe for you to wear.  I’ll be back in a minute.” she says before disappearing.

After the door closes I ask, “Mom.  What’s going on?  Last week’s dream was not a dream was it?”

“Sorry Honey, I was starting to think that we could call this off, but it was not to be.” She sighed. “No, this is not a dream.  As we told you last week, the explanation is too long for the time we have.  It is imperative that we look as normal as possible for Sam when she gets back.  And while you are like this, we are not related.  I promise you that you will have your answers before dawn.  In the mean time, just keep going with the flow.  You are doing great, sweetheart.   You’ll have a big decision to make after we tell you what is happening.  For now sweetheart, I have to tell you that I am very proud of you.”

“You better get over there and start getting into that robe before Sam gets back.” She adds.

I jump behind the screen and start to undress just before Sam pops back into the room.  “How are we doing, Honey?”  She asks.

“Ah... I’ll just be a minute,”  I reply.

As I start to undress, I hear her working preparing some equipment.  I start to smell hot wax.

Up to this point I haven’t really paid attention to my attire.  How could I be so comfortable in these clothes that I didn’t notice them?  I wonder about that.

As I peel them off, I notice my attire for the first time.  The top is a light green form fitting T-shirt like top, though nothing like what I would have worn as a guy.  I remember it from last week’s shopping session.  The neck line is designed to show of a bit of chest, but not immodestly so and the sleeves are a little puffy.  I am wearing those first jeans that I tried on last week and the white leather belt that I had picked out.   I am wearing the running shoes.  A pair of pink socks with little red hearts adorn my feet.  Finally, I am wearing a matching lingerie set that consists of a pair of bikini panties and a bra, both in a color that is supposed to mimic skin color, I think.  The underwear stays on.

Okay, as I am taking off these garments I am waiting for brain central to kick in with panicky warning messages.  Nothing special comes out.  The only message I get is ‘hurry up girl, people are waiting.’  I don’t have time to contemplate this new development right now so I follow directions.  There is no time for exploration so I concentrate on the job at hand.

The white terry robe is short.  It barely covers my posterior.   

Emerging from behind the screen, Sam has me lay face down on the table.  She provides a headrest that I can use when laying face down.

As she spreads the hot wax on the back of my legs she starts to explain the process.

“Okay, Honey, there’s a price for looking good and you are going to be paying it tonight.  Welcome to the club.  There is no fun way to do this the first time.” She apologizes as she spreads wax on my left leg. “The good news is that it gets easier every time you do it.”

I am getting the idea behind the process and I don’t like it. While the warm wax feels good the anticipation of its removal is scary.  I am not disappointed.  It hurts!  As Sam rips the first strip off, I grab the edge of the table and stifle a scream.

The first strip is a learning experience.  Now that I know what to expect, while painful, the rest are easier to take.

Once the back of the legs are done, Sam has me roll over for the front.  She gets a little fresh in the crotch area which makes me nervous.

“Amanda says to skip on the bikini wax,” Sam tells me, “but it looks as if you could really use it, Honey.  At least you are going to need to trim your bush before going out in public in a swim suit.  Don’t you want me to do that too?”

“Ah... maybe next time?” I respond.  “I can only handle so much pain at one time!”  And embarrassment–I don’t add.  Brain central is showing signs of wanting to explore the new anatomy, but not with an audience.  It appears that there has been a lot of new programming put into place since last week!

Don’t think that mom has been silent this whole time.  She seems to sense that I don’t have any real desire to be chatty with Sam tonight, so she has been keeping Sam’s attention.  Thank you mom!  I just don’t have the experience as a girl necessary to hold my own in a salon gossip session.  Sam uses a lot of terms that I am not really familiar with.

After the last strip comes off, Sam uses a spray bottle to mist my legs which are red and sore;  it is sooo soothing. 

“Okay, Honey, it is time to do those armpits.” Sam enthuses. “Please remove the robe and raise your arm.”

“Ah... can we skip on that?” I ask. “If I promise to shave often?”

“It will be easier to do now while the hair is longer.” Sam points out.  “But I understand why you would want to avoid this one.  It hurts more than the legs.  What do you think, Amanda?”

“I guess we can skip that for now” Amanda relents, “if you have a razor that she can borrow to do the job. Are you sure, sweetheart?”

Oh yes... I am very sure that I don’t want anyone ripping hair out of my armpits.  I give an affirmative node.

“I have a razor and some shaving cream in the store room.” Sam says.  I just know that she is disappointed.  Sadist! “I’ll be right back.”

“Hang in there, sweetheart.” Mom encourages me after Sam leaves. “We still have a few things to do here.  Make sure that you pay close attention to the makeup lesson that is coming.  You may need to be doing your own as early as tomorrow.”

Before I can respond Sam pops back in with a razor, some shaving cream, and a damp towel.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” Sam asks after getting a look at my armpits as I start the shaving process.

I shake my head negatively.

“Well, when you get back to your wilderness, you should take a razor with you, Honey.” She instructs.  “Do all the Alaska girls look like this?”

“Ah... No.  I guess I’m kind of a unique girl.  I have never spent any time being girly.  Amanda, my aunt, and cousin are trying to change that.” I admit.  That doesn’t even begin to tell the story.

“Well, for your sake, Honey, I hope they succeed.  You are quite pretty you know.  It would be a shame to not make the most of it.” she observes.  “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“Ah... no.  Never have.  I have never felt the need.”  I admit.

“Poor girl!”  She commiserates for me.  “You don’t know what you are missing.  Men may be a bit simple and you have to work a bit to keep them in line, but there is nothing quite like having a man in your life.  The right one can make you feel pretty special.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” I ask.

“Oh, I’ve had a few Honey.” She sighs.  “Right now I am on the prowl again.  Every time I think that I have found Mr. Right, one of us does something stupid and I’m back on my own again.  It is really nice at the start.  Maybe the next one will be him.”

I am thinking that ditching the purple hair and piercings may be a good way to start attracting Mr. Right, but figure that I better be quiet on that one.

As I finish up the shaving job, Sam inquires about the status of my legs.

“They are still tender, but are getting better surprisingly fast.” I inform her.

“Good.”  She says. “Why don’t you put the robe back one and we’ll save the rest of your clothes for when we are done with everything else.  By then your legs should feel much better.”

After donning the robe, I realize that I felt comfortable hanging out in panties and a bra in the presence of the two women.  Yep, some serious reprogramming has gone on in the past week.  I’ll need to explore that when I get some breathing room.

We end up back in the main salon for some nail work.

Sam started by clipping and shaping the nails.  We decide on a rounded look.  My nails are, apparently, not all that long.  Sam, of course thinks that I could use some enhancement to make them longer.  Mom and I nix the idea.  Poor Sam would like to make the most of the night!

Next comes a soak in some liquid that is supposed to soften up the nails and cuticles. She explains the cuticle trimming process before starting in.  The process is not as bad as I thought it would be from the explanation.

After bringing the cuticles under control, Sam applies a clear coat of something she calls a base coat of nail strengthener.

After much discussion over color, we finally settle on a very pale pink.  I was all for leaving things as they were, so the clear option sounded best to me.  Sam, who is trying to encourage me to ‘express my femininity’ more fully has some colors in mind that would not go unnoticed.  It is mom that suggests the pale pink because it would be feminine (in my mind, ANY color would be feminine.  When was the last time you saw a guy with nail polish?) while still being subdued.

After the color coat was dried, Sam applied a top coat of clear polish.  She then moved on to repeat the process on my toes.  I’m not sure who is going to be seeing my toes, but I am assured that it is the thing to do so I go along with the treatment.

This is a lot of work!  And for what?  I don’t understand why anyone would want to do all this, but I have to admit that the result looks appropriate for the girl that I had become.

“Now for makeup Honey.” Sam states. “What do you normally use?”

“You know how it is in the wilderness.” I say, “We just go with what nature gave us.”

“I take it then” Sam inquires “that this will be another new experience?”

“This whole evening is a new experience.”  If you only knew how much, I add silently.

“We don’t have time for the whole lesson.” Mother adds, “So let’s just keep it simple and understated for now.  She can learn the rest later.”

“And here I thought that I was getting you ready for a big debut.” Sam pouts a little.  “You have me real curious about what is going on! I know, I know. I agreed to not ask questions.”

Oh, the debut is big alright!  I still don’t know what it is, but it is big for me, no matter what it is!  I get the feeling that my first public experience as a girl is only hours away.

“We’ll start with cleaning your face.” Sam explains.  She shows me the product that she is using before wiping down my face.  “A clean face is essential to good makeup.  You have very clear skin, Honey, but you do need to work at keeping it that way.  You will want to do this every night before bed and in the morning before you apply your makeup.”

Next comes a moisturizer.  I am told that this will keep my skin looking young for a long time.

“You are going to need to learn about concealers Honey, but we are keeping things simple tonight.  You don’t need them as bad as a lot of other girls, but if you keep up the partying, you’ll be needing them sooner than later.” The instruction continues.

“I am now applying a foundation that matches your natural color closely,”  she explains as she brushes something on my face.  I can already tell that there is something there.  It is an uncomfortable greasy feeling.  I have a few questions about why anyone would want to do this, but I get the impression that every teenage girl would know the answer to that question, so I keep my mouth shut for now.

Sam then attacks my eyebrows with some kind of foam like brush.  She tells me that this will accent my eyebrows as if I should know why I want to do this.  She makes a big deal about making it look natural.  Wouldn’t natural be as in none at all?

We are skipping the eye shadow step because we are trying to keep things looking natural, but Sam assures me that we could add some that would be really make my eyes more dramatic without being so obvious.  The question in my mind, is why bother applying it if you don’t want anyone to notice it?  My male training still does not allow me to understand why we are going to all this trouble.

Next comes eyeliner.  This is supposed to call attention to my eyes.  Why, again, would I want to do that?  She is, she tells me, keeping things restrained by just doing the eye lid with a small thin line.

After the eye liner, she brings out a strange contraption similar to one that I have seen my sisters use.  It is used to curl eyelashes.  I am sure that this is important, so I pay attention to what she does.  I’m not sure that I notice any difference.

Now for mascara.  The process of applying this stuff looks to be potentially hazardous.  If I have to do this myself, I’ll have to work on my coordination!

We finish up with some pink lip gloss that is supposed to compliment my nails and my ‘natural’ skin color.  She spreads the stuff on my lips and has me purse them together then blot the excess on a tissue.

Finally getting a look in the mirror, I am impressed.  I thought that the girl was cute before.  With the makeup she looks radiant.  And you don’t notice the makeup as much as you do the girl.  It is like magic.  Maybe there is something to painting a face. 

“Honey, I’m sure you’ve thought of this, but you really need to get your ears pierced.”  Says the one with multiple piercings.  “I’m sure that you have your reasons for not doing it, but a nice set of earrings would take you from beautiful to gorgeous. I can do it for you if you like.  I would recommend three holes in each ear.”

I look over at mom and she just shrugs her shoulders.  I can remember a few battles when my sisters were younger about getting pierced ears.  Mom finally relented when they became teenagers but kept them to a single set of holes.  I’m sixteen now, which, I guess, is old enough by mom’s standards.

Seeing my indecision, Sam encourages me “You’ll hardly feel it.”

“Okay” I say, “but only one hole in each ear.”  Mom gives me an approving look.

“Are you sure, Honey?  Three is the norm these days,” Sam suggests.

“I’m sure.” I reply.

Sam brings out a handheld device and does the deed.  She inserts silver studs and instructs me in the proper care and cleaning of the holes.  She really emphasizes the need to keep them clean and to turn the studs occasionally over the next few days in order to avoid infection.

About this point, everyone is looking a bit tired.  It has been a long night.  2am is late for all of us.

I am sent back to the waxing room to get dressed while mom pays the bill.

I am getting anxious.  Mom told me that there would be some answers and a decision before sunrise. I want to get to that part soon.

My biggest question is WHY? Or should I say, my biggest questions ARE why?  Why do I need to be a girl?  Why all the secrecy? Why the urgency?

The next questions, revolve around the HOW?  Obviously the process is reversible.  And it appears to be painless, but how did they do it?

Then there is the question about how this affects my summer plans.  Boy Scout camp is probably not the place for Kris.

As I finish dressing, Sam and mom come back to the waxing room.  Mom is holding a pretty good size bag of beauty supplies.

“I put together a basic hair care and makeup kit for you to take with you.”  Sam explains.  “Make sure that you use the makeup remover before going to bed.  You don’t want to smear this stuff all over your pillow you know.  It is a mess to clean up.  Amanda will be able to help you get into the skin care routine. I also included a blow drier and a brush as Amanda tells me that you didn’t bring one with you.  And when you can, come back and tell me what all the intrigue is about.  I am dying to know!”

Thanking her, I follow mom’s example in giving Sam a hug before she leads us to a back door which opens to an alley behind the shop. 

A black Mercedes GL-class SUV is waiting at the door.  For your information, this is nicer that anything the Quinn family has ever owned.  We quickly slide into the back seat.  The car leaves as soon as the door closes.  It is dark in the car, in part due to the tinted windows. I don’t recognize the driver.  Mom is at ease, so I guess that this was expected.

As we drive away from the salon, I notice that we are not in my home town on the east side of the valley.  We are actually in the neighboring town on the west side of the valley.  I have been here often.

I look over at mom for answers.  I see that she is smiling. 

“You look beautiful sweetheart.” She says. “Too bad it is time to give you to someone else for a season.”

It is time for answers.  I just hope that the answers don’t lead to more questions!

 

Many thanks to Gabi for helping this poor writer polish off this chapter!

 

 

Something Feels Strange…

I look over at mom for answers. I see that she is smiling.

"You look beautiful sweetheart." She says. "Too bad it is time to give you to someone else for a season."

It is time for answers. I just hope that the answers don't lead to more questions!

Chapter 6: Explanations & Decisions

It is 3:30am, Sunday morning. My mother and I are sitting in a room at a Hampton Inn in the next valley east of my home town. I have just heard a tale that is beyond the imagination. I now have a decision to make.

After we left Sam's beauty salon, mom began the tale as we headed east on the Interstate, past our town and over the hills into the next valley. It took only half an hour to reach the hotel. We only got half way, at best, through the story in that time.

The driver, introduced simply as Joe, appears to be some kind of body guard. He helped carry up two suitcases and a large book pack to the room. The suitcases are the two we purchased last week. Surprise! -- Not! -- They must be mine. Mom carries her own overnight bag.

After Joe helped us into the hotel, he went back to the parking lot. He parked the car in a far corner where he had a good view of the lot.

In the hotel room, the story continued. Any thoughts of sleep were banished from my mind and body as the story unfolded. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. And I only have about half an hour left before I have to make some kind of decision.

So what is the story? It would take too long to recount the entire conversation. You wouldn't understand the details anyway without knowing the players. I will give you the summary version. It is long enough on its own.

Where do I begin? We'll start with the big picture.

First of all, there is some kind of espionage thing going on out at the Laboratory that is the major employer in our town. Important information about scientific advances that can be used for weapons development has been finding its way from the Lab to the Middle East and Afghanistan. It has been going on for some time but no one has been able to figure out who is obtaining the information or how the information is getting out. The Lab's security group has tried all sorts of electronic surveillance, analysis of computer network traffic, background checks, and placing undercover agents in the Lab to try and observe anyone around the people who are developing the information being stolen. The results have been very unsatisfactory. The agents were able to identify quite a few people who could be considered suspects, but never could they get close enough to any of them to tell if they were the ones. All sorts of new security procedures have been put into place, but they have done little more than slow down the traffic.

Frustration at the lack of progress in the investigation has forced the Lab’s security team to think outside the box. In a brain storming session last summer it was decided that what was needed was a new set of undercover agents to supplement the other detection methods.  The new agents would be people who would be overlooked by the spies who are orchestrating the espionage. The idea was hatched to use high school and college summer interns as undercover agents. The thought being that these people would not be considered a threat by those stealing the information and, as a result, would not be closely watched by the bad guys.

As the plan was discussed, a couple of obstacles became readily apparent.

First, college students could be suspected very easily of being agents as they are of a similar age to some of the agents sent in previously. Interns from appropriate scientific fields would be of great benefit. The advantage of college students is that they have a greater depth of knowledge and maturity than the high school students.  They also have much more technical knowledge than the agents used to date.  The down side of using college students is that whoever is stealing information might be wary of them as happened with the previous agents.

High school interns, on the other hand would be more likely to be overlooked as a threat because of their lack of knowledge and life experience. The spy may let his or her guard down around teenagers. The problem was to find a teenager who is brighter than average, but has a track record that would indicate otherwise, while still being completely trustworthy and committed to the project.  It is a given that high school students will be a lacking in the technical knowledge, particularly at the level seen at the Lab.

As discussions progressed, profiles for an ideal intern/agent were developed. Essential criteria included:

• A record of mediocre or average performance that hides a keen intellect.
• A strong work ethic.
• Demonstrated commitment to principles of integrity.

Secondary criteria, characteristics that would be highly valued but are not essential include:

• Very knowledgeable in the technical areas of concern.
• An ability to work with and observe people.

On the high school level, an additional, non-essential, criterion was added: That of being a distance runner. This was done because three of the people on the current suspect list have children who run on the local high school's cross country and track teams. One boy and two girls. It was felt that a fellow runner might make a good connection with these families.

There are a number of people who fit most of the criteria, but it proved to be difficult to find someone who meets all the criteria, particularly since the first criterion is in conflict with the rest. It is easy to find bright kids who are under achievers, but they can't be counted on to achieve in an assignment like this because they can never be counted on to achieve anything.

The high school aged agents, it was felt, needed to be recruited locally, since it is not common to bring in high school age interns from far away. The problem with using local kids is that everyone local is pretty well known and had established community connections with people in the Lab.

The more the security team wrestled with the problem, the more hopeless it became: until someone hatched the idea that a person meeting all the intellectual and work ethic criteria could be disguised to appear as someone with a mediocre record. This new person needs to come from out of town so that they are a fresh face without a local track record. The best approach seemed to be an out of town relative of a local family. The final problem was transforming someone who met most the criteria into the new person that met all the criteria.   The transformation has to be very complete.  A simple disguise will be too risky.

The means for doing the transformation was found in very small and very secret research group at the Lab.

A group of scientists at the Lab are working with people purported to be in possession of magic.  The goal of the group is to find scientific explanations for magical phenomena. The hope is to develop means for allowing 'non-magical' people to accomplish tasks limited previously to those born with the power. This group - unofficially known as 'the Wizards' by those who are aware of their project - is making headway on a number of fronts, including the area of transformations. While the magic folk are able to do some amazing things, this group has agreed to stay with procedures that had been verified and/or replicated scientifically.  They have to be administered by non-magic folk. The current state of the art for the Wizards includes, among other things, complete physical transformations based on DNA models.

Their transformation methods are interesting in that only the body is changed. The intellectual and psychological characteristics are not changed. Neither is the age of the transformed person. The result is that the 'person' does not change, just their bodies. Essentially, the Wizards can concoct a DNA ‘potion’ - for lack of a better word - that will quickly change a person's physical system to match that specified by the DNA potion. This process involves some, as yet, unexplained violations of the scientific principles of conservation of mass and energy. The good news is that the process was completely reversible without physical harm to the individual.

The mental and emotional picture, however, is different. Experiments by the Wizards have shown that people often have a changed view of life after literally walking in someone else's shoes for a time. As Jim Croce once said in the song One less Set of Footsteps, "It is what we've done that makes us what we are". The experiences that a person has, regardless of the body that they are in, combine with their basic personality traits to make them what they are. It doesn't matter if some of those experiences were as a different person. They still get added to the basic character mix for the individual.

The details of the transformation process are sketchy. The security team, however, isn't interested in the process, just the results. They need to take a very highly qualified candidate and physically change them into another person who, to the rest of the world, does not appear to be all that capable or extraordinary. A perfect disguise for the desired intern/agent.

I hope you are following this. All this cloak and dagger stuff gets quite complicated. Very quickly.

The solution at which the security team arrived was to have someone visiting family for the summer to get the job. Someone who no one locally knows - someone like Kristina Jeffers.

Actually, Kristina Jeffers doesn't really exist, but she could be created to be the visiting relative of a Lab employee. Kristina could apply for a summer intern position at the Lab in order to stay busy during her visit.

Once the plan was agreed upon, a list of possible recruits was developed after gaining access to the local high school's records and those of several universities where there were people in place to evaluate the potential recruits.  (There are enough geeks at the Lab to hack into any information system.) The idea of the search being that the best fit individuals would be investigated and one or more chosen to be changed and hired on as a summer intern.

This is where the story gets personal for me.

Apparently, I met the high school criteria perfectly in every way, except in the mediocre performance department. My high grades, success as a Boy Scout, and dedication to running were all in my favor. Apparently there were three other people at our school that were considered good candidates as well. The problem was to find a way to look at each candidate in depth without them knowing. This is where Laurie enters the picture.

Mrs. Mercer, a part of the security team leadership, works undercover as an administrative assistant for one of the Lab's management team–as anyone in any organization will tell you, the administrative assistants know everything that is going on.  She is also part of the inner circle of the group putting this investigation together. With the approval of the team, she enlisted the aid of her daughter in checking out the potential recruits at our high school. Laurie's job was to get close to the final candidates and feed her assessments back to the security team via her mother. Laurie was not told why she was observing these people. She was just told that it was very important to national security. Her job was to gather information about the finalists that the security team could use to evaluate the suitability each candidate. She was also given some compensation for accomplishing her task.

Hence the reason why she was enrolled in the electronics and math courses. Neither of these were topics that she was particularly interested in, but it would allow her to observe me and at least one other candidate.

Apparently, it was decided in the first month of school that I was the best fit for the job. And I never even knew that I was interviewing for the job. Laurie was directed to do what she could to develop a relationship with me with the intent of making sure that I was really the type of person the team was looking for. As she did not have a boyfriend at the time, she agreed to give it a go.

Ouch! That revelation hurt and I felt very much the fool. She did her job well. I now need to spend some time reevaluating our relationship knowing its origins, but right now I have bigger things to consider.

Apparently, after dating me for several months, Laurie was able to give the security team enough information about me to make them absolutely convinced that I was ‘the man for the job’. Apparently, the team was thrilled that I was not a macho jerk or overly driven by my hormones to the point of distraction from my bigger goals. This unexpected bonus proved to be the deal clincher and made further decisions easier for the security team.

I should point out that similar searches at the college level proved fruitless. The end result is that the security team has pinned almost all of its hopes and plans on me. Mom tells me that there is another candidate that might fit the bill, but this person is a distant second choice.

Once I was identified as the best candidate, the team began ‘creating’ Kristina Jeffers.

It was decided, first of all, this new person would be visiting with the Mercers and that a girl was preferable to a boy. Depending on who the bad guys are, they might discount a mere girl as a threat. Also, a girl would more easily work into the Mercer household. My emotional attachment to Laurie would be a complication, particularly if I was there as a boy. It was felt that it would be easier for both Laurie and me if we took the boy/girl thing out of the picture.

Laurie, it turns out, is also getting an internship position this summer, but not with an intent to be an agent. She doesn't know about the espionage thing. Laurie would be the ticket to introductions that a girl from out of town would need. In the final analysis, being girl cousins made the most sense.

By happy coincidence–happy for the security team that is–Mrs. Mercer's sister is married to an Army officer whose unit is stationed at Fort Richardson in Alaska. Due to careful controls in the intelligence community, it turns out that the Lab's security team did not know until recently, that Major William (Bill) Jeffers was in military intelligence. In fact, Major Jeffers was one the people who originally discovered the information leak from the Lab during a raid conducted while he was deployed in Afghanistan. He and his lovely wife Polly have one teenage son, Tom–age seventeen going on eighteen. The family lives off post in Anchorage, Alaska.

Once all these coincidences were discovered, it was decided by the security team that Kristina would be the second child of Bill and Polly Jeffers. A birth certificate in the name of Kristina Marie Jeffers was created at the Martin Army Community Hospital at Ft. Benning, Georgia where Lt. Jeffers was stationed when Kristina would have been born. In addition, an academic record for this new young lady was created in at the local high school. She just finished her sophomore year with good, but not great, grades taking courses of moderate difficulty. She was on the cross country running team as well as the track team, but with mediocre results so that she did not stand out. There was some thought to adding her to the cross country ski team, but it was felt that it would be too difficult to train the new Kristina in this skill at the beginning of summer. They also filed a job application with the Lab on Kris's behalf.

Meanwhile, the Wizards collected DNA samples from the Mercers, myself, and the Jeffers to start concocting their potion. They also obtained some DNA from their backup candidate and worked up a potion for that person as well.

While the plans were being developed, I–on my own–had applied for work at the Boy Scout camp. This solved another problem for the security team. They were wondering how to make me disappear for the summer. My parents, while great supporters of Scouting, had originally wanted me to apply for an regular internship at the Lab thinking that it would be better experience for me than the camp. In early March, my father was brought into the loop by the security team to see if permission and assistance could be gained from my parents for their recruitment plan. At first neither parent was overly thrilled by the proposal of losing me to this project, but dear old Dad finally realized that his work was in jeopardy and that this experience would not only help his project but at the same time give me some experience more valuable than anyone could possibly imagine. Also, if the Lab were to lose the information that the spies were looking for, many innocent people might be hurt. Mom agreed with the value of the experience and the need for action. She also confided in me, that she felt that experience in the female world could only help me be a better man. In the end, they agreed to help. That was about the time that they began supporting my summer plans with more enthusiasm.

The original timetable had the security team contacting me to explain the situation and enlist my help when Dad took me to camp. They arranged for all my camp correspondence to show an arrival date one week before the camp was actually set to begin. The team, including my parents, were fully confident of my willing participation after the essentials were communicated to me. The week before camp started would give them time to convince me to join them, do the transformation, and get me appropriately outfitted and ready to work.  They felt that it was important to not bring me in the loop until the very last minute–something about keeping things quiet.  If they were unsuccessful in recruiting me, then I could continue on to camp and they could move to plan B.

During the recruitment phase, they had no intention of going into the depth of detail that I am getting tonight. I am getting the full story now because, like all good plans, something had gone awry and they needed to gain my cooperation quickly.  That something wrong occurred half a world away in Afghanistan.

In another raid, Army Rangers found evidence that the insurgents are desperate for more specific information to be obtained from the Lab and are putting extreme pressure on their agents to get it. Quickly.

This development caused panic with the security team leader. The leader wanted to get Kristina in place faster. The 'accident' in Alaska was staged two days after the Ranger's raid in Afghanistan to give urgent reason for Kristina to be sent away to stay with her aunt and cousin in California. In fact they felt the need to get her to California that same weekend. Someone in the decision tree was very panicky. This created an infinite number of problems for the planning arm of the security team as they had no good plan for my disappearance at the start of finals week. While they tried to sort that out, the team (including my parents) decided that they would at least outfit me so that I would be in position if things really got out of hand. After all, everything was reversible and it was guaranteed that I would have the final say in my participation before being fully committed to the project. After all, they had high confidence in my cooperation after doing personality profiles on me all winter.

Yet again things happened differently than had been planned. The original plan called for me to be recruited and go through the transition in a facility in another town. I would have had a staff of people to assist with obtaining clothes and learning the basics of girlhood for a whole week. – "Like they think that would be enough time? Must have been a man that dreamed that up!" my mom remarked. - I could do the transformation and training away from the eyes of the world.

Laurie did not show up at school that Friday because she became part of the planning on how to move this project along. She provided information about my personality to the staff psyche people who affirmed that I probably wouldn't flip out if helped by people who I knew and trusted.

The Wizard group had had their work done for weeks so they were brought in to do their deed. No one knew for sure what size I would be when transformed so they needed me there for the shopping. It all had to be done in one night so that I could get transported to Alaska on Saturday so that I could catch a flight back to California as if I was coming from there, with the normal luggage of a teen girl. They suspected that the spies would do at least a mild background check on anyone new showing up at the Lab, so they wanted a verifiable trail of events leading up to Kristina's arrival.

There being no time to take me to a neighboring town for the shopping experience and knowing that I would be totally disoriented, it was decided that a big box store in town was just the ticket. All they needed was to get me some private time in the store. Marla's employment at one such store made things easier, since it allowed the outfitters to all be people who I know. The security team contacted the store manager to make the arrangements, citing national security needs without revealing the details. The result was totally free access to the store for the night. I later discovered that there were several Lab security people protecting the store while we were there, hence the lack of concern about security that night by the women.

Details of the actual transformation are pretty sketchy. Mom wasn't totally up on it, but she knew that it was important that I be asleep when they administered the potion. As they knew I was an early-to-bed kind of guy, everyone waited until I went to sleep and then somehow administered the potion. Mom didn't see how it was done. It is all top secret you know. The actual transformation process took about an hour.

When done, I was in a trance-like state that allowed them to move me more or less under my own power to the store. Laurie and a security guard took me over to the store while the two mothers enlisted Marla's help without giving her too much detail. Laurie and a Lab security person had taken me to the Junior's section and left me there while Laurie went back to see the security guard out and to prop the door open for the rest of my helpers. I snapped out of the trance while she was gone. You know what happened in the store. The potion that I was given was of short duration. It was known to last only six hours at the most. I reverted back into the trance-like state about half an hour before my body started to return to its normal state. They found it best to get me home before the change initiated. The good news is that the shopping trip was at the Lab's expense.

Oh... and the pajama thing at the end of the evening: the assembled group had felt more comfortable changing me into my pajamas while I was still female and semi able to help. Hence the rush. After I went into the trance, they were able to lead me out to a waiting car behind the building. The security staff got me tucked into bed where the transformation was monitored by a team from the Wizards group.

While we were having our fun in the store that night, cooler heads prevailed in the security agencies and it was decided stick to the original time schedule, with some modifications.  The urgent need to bring Kristina to town was abandoned.

Analysis of my responses during the shopping excursion showed a 90% probability that I would go along with the plan once I understood the scope of the details. They also felt that I did not need to know of the plan yet as there was still hope that they could catch the culprit on their own without my help and could then pull the plug on the operation. They hoped that the spy or spies would make some kind of a slip since they are under increased pressure to produce results. That did not happen.

Laurie and her mother went to Alaska yesterday to get ready to introduce me, or my backup, to the life of Kristina Marie Jeffers in Alaska in preparation for her debut in California. The powers that be decided that the physical transformation needed to be completed tonight so that I could get to Alaska as soon as possible as Kristina. Hence, the beauty shop. As far as getting ready goes, I had a basic set of clothes, I just needed the polishing. They couldn’t arrange a 3am appointment, so the hair came before the explanation.  They had great faith in my positive response to their recruitment.

After tonight's transformation process was complete, Mom and Marla managed to get me in the new girl clothes. Mom and Joe quickly got me to the salon while I was still in the trance. Samantha mistook the trance for abuse of a chemical substance–in a way, she was right.

Actually, the week’s wait was probably good for the security team’s cause. My brain had had time to digest the short experience of being female. This new experience became a part of me, like it or not. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had missed an opportunity. It was rather like eating one potato chip–it is hard to eat just one. That first one makes you want to continue the experience until you are satisfied. I am not satisfied. My curiosity about experiencing a girl's life, temporarily, has grown as I have reflected more about the experience. In the back of my mind, I had resolved to focus more on the feelings and sensations if it were to ever happen again.

Did you get all that? No wonder they didn't want to describe all this in the store! The summary took too long to get out. The whole story had taken a couple of hours of discussion with mother dear.

So. Here I sit in a hotel room with my mother. There is a team of people waiting out there in the parking lot for me to accept the job. I only have a little time left before I revert to the trance-like state which leads to the return to Christopher Quinn. With smooth legs and shapely eye brows. I need to decide which way to go before that happens.

If I join the team, specialists from the Wizard group will come in and work some kind of magic that will set me in this body until they release me. That will be either until the spies are caught or the second week of August when Scout camp gets out–whichever comes first.

If I choose not to join the team, I get an all expense paid vacation at a mountain lodge where I can spend the rest of the week running, hiking and fishing until I have to report to Scout camp, with smooth legs and arched eye brows.

Even though the job sounds like fun, I feel as if I've been set up–manipulated. That does not go down very well. Even though mother has painted a fairly reasonable picture for justifying the manipulation, it still bothers me. A lot. Particularly Laurie's role in the matter. I really need to spend some time thinking about that.

On second thought, one definition of 'manipulated' as found on the web is "exerting shrewd or devious influence especially for one's own advantage." If the story is to be believed, I think that manipulation only occurred the two times I found myself female. Leading up to that, I was deceived by Laurie all year, but the security people were only assessing me up to that point, not influencing me. In a way, I should feel honored that I was evaluated and found to match such high criteria. If it wasn't for the imposed gender change, I would have been flattered to have been selected for this job.

As far as the forced gender changes go, I can almost see why they did it, given the circumstances.  I might even have done the same thing if put in the same situation.  I do think that the head of security needs to learn how to avoid panicked responses.

At least they got parental permission. And parents are universally known for forcing their kids into all sorts of character building experiences.  No one (except for the child) really sees that as a gross violation of personal rights. Maybe I should view this event as such a situation. After all, Mom tells me that I can bail out now if I want to. Apparently the team knows that if I don't go into this willingly, then the project will fail.

Well... let me look at the situation objectively, ignoring the unapproved gender change.

Here is my analysis of the pros and cons:

Pros:

• This job sounds pretty exciting. A lot more exciting than teaching knots to twelve year-old Boy Scouts.
• The compensation, which I forgot to mention above, is very attractive.
• I get to help save the world (well maybe not completely, but innocent people may benefit from my employment.)
• I don't have to go too far from home this summer.
• I get to live with my (soon to be former, maybe) girlfriend for the summer, unfortunately, not in the manner that I would have liked. This has both a positive and a negative connotation.  That is why you will find this entry in the cons section.
• I get to munch on more potato chips (metaphorically speaking). That is, I'll be able to satisfy my growing curiosity about life as a girl.
• This is only a temporary arrangement.
• I still get to run. Did I mention that, to me, running is life? I know that I forgot to mention that the Wizards managed to mix in some running genes from some accomplished female runners into the DNA mix. Sounds sort of like an unfair advantage for me, but I'll take it as part of the compensation package.

Cons:

• I'll have to spend the summer working indoors.
• I'll have to live with my former girlfriend. We will have to resolve a few issues for that to work.
• I don't get a chance to be totally on my own for the summer. Mom and Dad will still be there looking over my shoulder, so to speak. As you can tell, I have mixed feelings about being away from home.
• I'm not sure that I trust the group that is controlling this charade. It is obvious that they only feed what they feel is need-to-know information to the participants. And I am low on the need-to-know list. I am sure that there are things that they are not telling me that I will wish that I had known later.

When I consider the list, the pros look like they far outweigh the cons. But then you have to consider the recruiting methods. I get a bit unhappy with the whole thing when I think in that direction.

I wonder how I would have responded if their original recruitment plan had been followed? That is an interesting question. I think that I might have gone with it. The adventure sounds exciting. The chance to make a difference is enticing. So is the compensation. As they discovered during the assessment phase, I am not a macho jerk so even the female stuff would be an interesting adventure, although I doubt that I will advertise having had the experience once it is over. The fact that I qualified for a great opportunity would have been flattering. Yes, I would probably have accepted the job.

Still, I find it hard to accept the deception and manipulation of the last week and a half. But is that enough to keep me from this adventure–and the money?

As I contemplate the issues, I feel a weary feeling welling up from the depths of my soul. I know that time is short.

"Mom?" I ask, "will you watch out for me?"

"Yes, sweetheart, I will. I and a lot of other people will be watching out for you." She replies. "All you need to do is call and help will be there."

I lie down on the double bed that I have been sitting on throughout our long chat. I feel convinced that I am about to do the right thing. People are depending on me. I want to see if I can pull this off.

"Okay Mom. Call in the Wizards. I'll do it." I manage to get out before fading into a comfortable sleep.

-------------------------------------

Thanks again for Gabi's wonderful assistance in cleaning up this work.  As I did not implement all her suggestions, don't blame her for mistakes missed!

 

Something Feels Strange…

I lie down on the double bed that I have been sitting on throughout our long chat. I feel convinced that I am about to do the right thing. People are depending on me. I want to see if I can pull this off.

"Okay Mom. Call in the Wizards. I'll do it." I manage to get out before fading into a comfortable sleep.

Chapter 7: Girl Boot Camp Begins

"Sweetheart, time to wake up," I hear my mother's voice and feel a gentle shake.

I pull the pillow over my head and try to block out the noise. I am feeling sleep deprived.

That is, until I remember last night's dream/nightmare. The memory of the night floods my mind in an instant.

The pillow comes off, my eyes snap open and I find myself in a hotel room alone with my mother. So, it wasn't a dream after all.  I am almost afraid to investigate further.

Mom looks as if she just woke up after a night of too little sleep. She’s wearing a cotton night shirt that reaches to mid thigh. I am afraid to think about what I am likely to be wearing. I can feel some cloth bunched up around me.

"Mom?" I ask. "Last night wasn't a dream was it?"  The feminine voice is still with me.

"No, sweetheart," she replies with a smile, "it wasn't. You are now Kristina Jeffers. Welcome to the sorority.

"You should refer to me as Mrs. Quinn now, sweetheart." she coaches me. "For the next few months you are the niece of my good friend Jennifer Mercer. It is probably best to get in the habit now of not calling me ‘Mom’."

"So, Mrs. Quinn," – This is going to take some getting used to! –  "what's next on the agenda?"

"Well, Dr. Quinn has just departed from home to take his son Chris to Scout camp." She says. "They should arrive here in about half an hour. Before they get here, however, we need to get you up and dressed for a long trip. You, Kristina, are going to Alaska today. It is time to give you your first girl lessons, so rise and shine!" She gives me a playful slap on the butt to get me going.

I toss off the covers and look down. I see a blue knit nightshirt twisted around my body. It looks like I am going to have to learn how to sleep in one of these. They are a lot different from my normal pajamas –  normal pajamas don't ride up.

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I mentally take inventory of the sensations. Most noticeably different is the looseness of my breasts. They are obviously unrestrained. While not big, as I recall from the shopping trip, they seem to be big enough to sway on their own as I sit up. My hair feels strange on my head. Reaching up I find that it is pulled back into a pony tail. It is secured with some kind of wide elastic band. I imagine that it is one of the scrunchie things that my sister leaves in the bathroom at home.

Before I go much further, I’m aware that my bladder is making it presence known.

"Mrs. Quinn, I need to go to bathroom." I announce. "Is there anything special that I need to know?"

"Rule number one: Sit down when using the toilet." She grins. "No more of that creepy standing up to urinate for you, my girl! Also, you will need to wipe yourself dry. When you do, start from the front and go backwards. Never go the other way, it can result in an infection in some rather sensitive places."

"I like standing to urinate." I pout. "It's quicker and easier"

"Not now." she replies, still grinning.

I head into the bathroom and close the door. Avoiding the mirror, I raise the lid on the toilet, lift the skirt of the night dress and sit down on the seat. I find that I am not wearing any underwear. The only thing I am wearing is this night shirt. Things just don't feel right. As I am prone to say, it feels strange.

First of all, whenever I have sat on the toilet to urinate previously, I have always had to use one hand to direct my penis so that things go the right direction. Now there is nothing to direct. I tried. Going hands free is a new experience.

The next problem is releasing the flow. Missing the muscles in my penis that control the flow, I am not entirely sure what to do, but whatever it is, I need to do it soon. The pressure is building. I try relaxing. That does the trick. Instead of coming out as a nice controlled stream, the urine comes out in more of a spray from an opening in between my legs. When done, I definitely feel wet all over my crotch. Yep. Nothing like the old way.

Grabbing a couple of squares of toilet paper, I start to stick my hand down between my legs. Brain central comes to life. Instead of screaming at my hands to stop, it is asking for more input regarding this unknown territory. It looks as if brain central got the memo from last night and has altered it's programming. We've changed teams. Time to learn the new system.

Continuing the process, I start by patting things down there. I am tentative about doing a more thorough investigation by wiping.

The first contact is strange. I'm not sure what I expected down there, having never done any homework on the subject. I first feel a smoothness, but find that the patting does not take care of the wetness. It seems to be under another layer. Pressing the paper against my crotch with a bit more firmness I notice a vertical slit that I push into and relieve the damp feeling. The arrangement down there is more complex than I would have thought.  I am curious and have to take a look.

I spread my legs more and crane my neck to get a look. I can't get a good view but, using my fingers as an aid, it appears that there are folds of flesh that conceal some delicate looking flaps of flesh. I remember mom's – Mrs. Quinn's – instructions and gingerly wipe from the top of the slit towards the back, taking care of the moist feeling. In the process I encounter another, larger, opening that wasn't there yesterday. That must be my new vagina, I surmise.

In the process of wiping, I touch a feature at the top of the slit that sends a pleasurable shiver up my spine.  What was that?

"How's it going in there Kris?" Mrs. Quinn calls through the door.

"Ah... Okay I guess," I reply. "Just trying to figure things out."

"You'll be getting more instruction on your new equipment later today, sweetheart," She informs me, "but we need to get going here. Dr. Quinn will be here very soon to take you to your flight."

I drop the paper in the bowl, stand up, and flush the toilet as my night shirt falls back into place.

I stand in front of the sink to wash my hands. Looking in the mirror, I see a pretty girl staring back at me. The same one that I saw in the store, but with studs in her ears. She is obviously just getting up. Her hair is pulled back and she is without makeup. She still looks cute. She is me, I remind myself. I think it is going to take some time to adjust to this new image.

Brain central, however, has been reprogramming for the new image all week. Every time during the past week that I looked at a girl's clothes and wondered what they would look like on my female self, this is the image that I have seen. I am not a total stranger to myself. It is just that I have not yet merged with the new image. We are getting there, though.

Turning to the full length mirror on the bathroom door, I get a better view of the girl. The night shirt she is wearing has 3/4 length sleeves and a modest Y neck – a term that I learned from Laurie last week –  the buttons that make the stem of the Y hold closed an opening that extends to a couple of inches below the breasts, kind of like a shirt opening. Over the left breast and chest are a spray of glittery stars around a crescent moon. The hem is around mid thigh. She looks nice. If I have to be a girl, at least I like the body that I have been given. The image in the mirror is what I have imagined Laurie to be like in a night shirt.

Thinking of Laurie snaps me out of my self admiration. A flash of anger goes through my mind while my heart feels sadness. I must have a talk with my former girlfriend; there has to be more to the story from her end. I want to hate her right now, but part of me wants to hear her side of the story in hopes that that our relationship has not been a total deception.

Mom knocks again on the door of the bathroom.  I open the door and she sees me looking at the mirror over the sink.

"So what do you think, Kris?" Mrs. Quinn asks. "You're pretty good looking."

"I don't know how I feel about it yet," I admit. "I guess being cute is good but I think I have a lot more thinking to do before I am comfortable with all this.  It is a pretty good disguise though.  I'm sure that no one will recognize me as Chris Quinn."

"Well one way to ease into change is to keep yourself busy so that you don't have to think about it too much at once," Mrs. Quinn informs me. "So, the first thing we need to do is to get you showered and dressed for the day. You will be seeing and feeling lots of new things as we do this. Try to look beyond those sensations and focus on the task at hand. Your subconscious can sort out the details for later analysis.

"Kris, the first thing you need to do is to get out your night shirt and into the shower," she instructs. "Use the plastic shower cap on the counter to cover your hair. We don't have time for working on your hair right now, and anyway, you had it washed just a few hours ago. Do you need help getting into the shower, sweetheart?"

"Ah... no," I reply, "I think that I can take care of it."

"Don't take too long, Kris," She reminds me, "time is short right now."  There is that time thing again.  There never seems to be enough of it.

Closing the door, I try last weeks trick. I turn my back on the mirrors and close my eyes as I pull the night shirt over my head. I realize that I need to open my eyes to negotiate the shower. I studiously ignore my new body as I put on the shower cap, grab a washcloth off the towel rack, step into the shower and close the curtain. My new body is hard to ignore. The hips and legs move a differently from what I am used to, the breasts bounce around, and my butt feels too big. It feels downright strange.

As the warm water strikes my body, other new sensations flood brain central with new input. All to be cataloged for further review at a future time.  As we know, there is not enough time right now.

First of all, my skin seems much more sensitive than before – in a good way. The water feels almost as if it is caressing my body like never before.

Next the water slides down my body uninhibited by hair of any type except around my crotch. I was never a real hairy guy, but I am now a hairless gal. The feel of the water sliding over my skin is particularly noticeable on my newly waxed legs.

I also notice that I am shorter; the tub seems to be a bit bigger than it should and the shower nozzle is higher than I am accustomed to.  The extra room is nice in this small hotel shower.

Getting with the program, I lather up the wash cloth using a bar of soap and start running it over my new body. Wow.

Reminding myself that now is not the time for self exploration, I start to quickly clean the body surfaces. When I encounter the breasts, my hands seem a bit reluctant, but push through the process. The breasts, on the other hand, send signals of pleasure back to brain central, asking for more. The request is denied – with some reluctance.

Running the cloth over my hips and butt, I start to get a feel for just how much things have changed. The waist is noticeably smaller, but the rear end is large and rounded. It feels larger than it looked in the mirror. Almost like a built in pillow. More information to catalog.

The legs feel incredibly smooth as I wipe the soapy cloth up and down them. The shape has changed dramatically here also. My thighs are larger and taper to a feminine knee and my feet seem dainty compared my old ones.

Eventually, I have nothing left to clean but my crotch. I am not sure about going there without taking more time to explore and understand the unexpected complexity of that region. I settle for running the cloth over the outer folds then spreading my legs a bit to let water flow over the region in a general rinse. I need to read the owner's manual before getting into more detail here.

Finishing the shower, I turn off the water. Opening the curtain, I grab a towel and start to rub myself dry after taking off the uncomfortable shower cap. Ouch! The towel seems too rough for this new skin. I change to patting myself dry. Patting is not as efficient as a good rub, but it feels better. I am starting to understand why my sisters take so long in the shower.

"Kris," Mrs. Quinn (I am already missing Mom) calls through the door, "Dr. Quinn is waiting for us in the lobby. He wants to skip the continental breakfast here and take us to the IHOP restaurant just up the road by the mall. I like that idea, but we need to get moving, sweetheart."

"I'm doing the best I can, Mrs. Quinn." I reply.  "I'll be out in just a minute."

I try wrapping the towel around me like I have seen my sisters do as they dart from the shower to their rooms. I will need to work on the technique, but manage to do a creditable job before opening the bathroom door.

I see that Mom – Mrs. Quinn – has been going through my suit cases. There are a selection of clothes laid out on my bed.

"I don't suppose you know that much about girls' clothes yet," she explains, "so I have selected two coordinating outfits for you to choose from. While you are getting dressed, I'll take a quick shower then help you with your makeup."

She disappears into the bathroom and I face the clothing. Part of me wishes that she had just given me something to wear so that I didn't have to think about it. I guess that this is part of easing me into being a girl.

One outfit consists of the tiered skirt, a turquoise top with a Y neckline that is gathered under the breasts and has short sleeves of moderate length. There is underwear and pantyhose set out to go with it.

The other outfit is the more comfortable pair of jeans that I picked out last week. The chosen top, is definitely girly. It has vertical lines, not quite strips, of black, magenta – another color that I learned about in the past week – and white. It has a black empire contrast band just below the breasts – no one ever accused me of being a slow learner – and rather girly flutter sleeves. The neckline is scooped rather modestly. This outfit has a different set of underwear to go with it.

Okay... I need to start thinking like a girl here. I am not real sure how to do that just yet, but I might as well try. The trouble is that I have never been around a girl as she goes through the clothing selection process. Sure, I have been subjected to 'What do you think of this?' and 'Do you think that this makes my butt look too big?' – minefield questions for guys –  but I never actually chosen an outfit for a girl to wear.

I know that I am going to be meeting my new family soon. I ought to look good – first impressions are important. The skirt combination would probably be best for that. The problem is that I don't know how to pull off wearing a skirt yet. That might be too big of a step for now. The jeans, on the other hand are closer to familiar territory.  They would also be what a typical tomboy girl would wear. So the jeans it is.

I think, however, that I will go with the turquoise top instead of the girly top. They are both definitely feminine, but the turquoise one seems like a smaller step in the girly direction. After all, I am supposed to be a tom boy. The turquoise actually looks good with the jeans anyway..

Dropping the towel (and trying to ignore the naked body), I grab the panties lying by the jeans. They are cotton and rise a little higher than the bikini panties I wore last week. They are more like the hipsters that Marla put me in last week. Fortunately these are not pink. They are an ivory color. They have an elastic waistband that with the manufacturer's name repeated around it. They go on easily. I run my hand over the crotch. Something that I never would have dreamed of doing a week ago. It feels extraordinarily strange to feel the smoothness, or should I say, lack of feature, down there.

The bra is a plain cotton bra from the same manufacturer. It almost feels like T-shirt material. Remembering last week's lesson, I clasp the hooks in front of me before turning it around and slipping my arm through the straps. Leaning over, I settle the breasts into the cups, resisting the urge for more self-investigation.

Phase I is complete. Now for the next layer..

Grabbing the jeans, I slip them on. The feel on my smooth legs is very different. A good different.  The fact that these jeans fit closely to my new shape adds to the new feelings. I run my hands over my rear end. I can't quite get over the change in shape back there.

I hear the water turn off in the shower room. I better get moving.

Next comes the top. Fortunately the fabric is heavy enough, so I don't need a camisole. I pull on the top to adjust it over the breasts. The darn buttons are going to take some time to get used to. I need to do some research to find out why buttons are backwards on girls clothes.

About this time the bathroom door opens and mom (Mrs. Quinn, sorry!) steps out still toweling herself dry. She is naked. I am stunned. Eventually, both of us realize that I am staring at her. I quickly advert my eyes while blushing mightily. She giggles..

"I guess that you haven't seen a lot of naked women, have you?" she asks.

"Ah... no." I reply..

"That's good for the old Chris.  But now that you have changed teams it is time to start getting used to it. You will be around naked, or at least partially naked, girls a lot this summer and you need to be comfortable with it. You will be going into girl's bath and locker rooms. It won't be too much different from what you did as a guy, only with girls this time." She explains as she digs through the overnight bag that she brought with her, selecting her clothing for the day.

I occupy myself with putting on the socks that were set out with the jeans. The socks have alternating purple and green strips.

I desperately try to act nonchalantly while mom slips into lacy black panties and matching bra. These are followed by pair of black slacks and a purple top with a square neckline and short sleeves. She pulls on some very short black nylons that go up to her knees then puts on some black shoes with a low heel.

By this time I have my socks on and my new running shoes and am trying to get the rest of my clothes back into the suitcases. I notice that my clothes from last night are already packed.

While we are finishing dressing, Mom comments on my selections for the day.

"I'm impressed," she says. "I thought you would just go with one of the outfits that I chose. I expected you to pick the jeans, but why the switch in tops?"

"The other one seemed more girly than this one." I explain. "I am a tomboy, you know, so I feel more comfortable in this one." More comfortable is a relative term. None of this feels right yet.

"The top works well with those jeans," she says approvingly. "We just need to work on make up and jewelry and we will be all set. I guess, that the guys can come up now."

Guys? What 'guys'? I thought that it was just dear old Dr. Quinn down there.e.

Mom pulls out her cell phone and speed dials Dad. "How is my favorite hunk holding up?" She asks when he answers. My parents have the sappy relationship that it embarrassing for us kids. "We are decent now. Come up to room 210 and have Joe bring his identity stuff up."

Before I can ask questions, she drags me into the bathroom along with a pink bag that she pulled out of my backpack. "Time for us to get beautiful" she says enthusiastically.

She hands me my new hairbrush and gives me instruction on brushing techniques. We end up holding some of the hair back with a clip like Sam did last night.t.

She follows up the hair brushing by handing me a cotton pad soaked with some fluid. "This," she explains, "is the cleanser." I wipe my face thoroughly. This is followed by a moisturizer.

About this time there is knock at the door. Mrs. Quinn lets the two men in, directing Joe to set his stuff up on the small desk in the corner. Dr. Quinn has a seat in the sofa chair by the window after giving his wife a six-second kiss.

That's right. A six-second kiss. Somewhere the two of them got the idea that their marriage would be better if they shared a six-second kiss every time they meet or part – it seems to be working. Mom is usually the time keeper. Sometimes the kiss seems more like six minutes to those watching. Six seconds of bliss for them. Six minutes of embarrassment for us kids.  I'd tell them to get a room, but since we are in one, I am afraid of what else they might do.

Mrs. Quinn returns to the bathroom as I finish with the moisturizer.

She quickly catches up to me in the face cleaning process.

"We don't have time for you to experiment with applying your own make up this morning, so I'll show you what I do on my face first, then I will do the same for you. Watch closely," she directs.

She follows approximately the same procedure shown me by Samantha. It takes about 10 minutes for her to get the two of us 'looking beautiful', as she calls it. I am impressed. The makeup is almost as magical as the gender transformation. The makeup takes the cute girl and makes her significantly more attractive without calling attention to itself.

I am not given time to dwell on the new look. Mrs. Quinn clasps a necklace around my neck, sprays my neck with some perfume, and puts me in front of a digital camera. Joe takes several head shots. In a matter of moments, I am handed a laminated military dependent ID card in the name of Kristina Marie Jeffers with an Anchorage, Alaska address. I am told that the paperwork is all legitimate and was previously filed without the image. The finalized document is emailed to the appropriate place.

Looking closer at the image on the card, I notice the necklace that Mrs. Quinn had put on me before shoving me in front of the camera. It is THE necklace. You know the one. It has the gold running shoe charm.

The chain is too short for me to see the charm while wearing it, so I go to look into the mirror.

"Mom?" I ask. "Oh, sorry, Mrs. Quinn? Why do I have Laurie's necklace?"

"Actually, Kris, it is yours." She explains. "Laurie has only been borrowing it all week. She asked me to give it back to you. She asked me to tell you that she hopes that you won't be too mad at her."

"We do have a few issues to work out." I grossly understate with a frown. "I don't know if I should wear this because it reminds me too much of how she has deceived me. I can't believe that she deceived me for so long."

"Are you sure that her feelings for Chris aren't genuine?" she asks.

"They didn't start out that way, if your story is true," I point out. "How can I be sure that the whole affair hasn't been a charade?"

I decide to leave the necklace on for now.w.

While I am getting my ID card, Mom is packing our clothes. I should keep her around as a lady's maid, I think. She is very efficient.

As Joe packs up his equipment, I note that he has not said a single word throughout this whole affair.  He didn't say anything last night either.  He quietly leaves when his things are packed.

As Joe leaves, Mrs. Quinn presents me with my first purse. It is made of brown leather and has a thin shoulder strap. It is not large and feels heavy for its size. Opening the purse, I am confronted with a myriad of items all neatly and efficiently crammed into the purse. Most of the contents are recognizable, but some will take more investigation than we have time for right now to determine what they are.

I pull a small wallet out of the purse and find a place for the ID card. I also find a debit card and several hundred dollars in cash in the wallet. Well! Things are looking up.

I also pull out a cell phone. It is a smart phone with a small keyboard, not the full QWERTY keyboard, but better than fighting the number keys when texting. Starting up the phone, I see that it has the full data package. You know, internet and email. The memory is already loaded with lots of music.  I'll have to check that out when there is time. The address book and calendar have quite a few entries also. The number has a 907 prefix. That must be Alaska. I am about to geek out over the telephone when Dr. Quinn drags me back from the brink.

Dear old Dad has been watching me closely since he came in the room. Seeing an opening in the chaos, he addresses his wife.e.

"So, this is Jennifer's niece Kris?"

"Yes," she replies. "Don't you think that she turned out well? Kris, this is Dr. Baden Quinn. My hunky husband."

"Hi, Dr. Quinn," I say with surprisingly mixed emotions. My Dad and I have always been pretty close. It is hard to step outside the family circle.

I think he sees my sadness. He steps forward and wraps me in a hug.

Speaking to the old me, he says "Chris, I'm sure you are in this beautiful girl somewhere. Let me tell you that we will miss you this summer. But we would have missed you more if you had left us for those Boy Scouts. We still love you and will be there if you need anything at all. Remember that!  We look forward to your return in August.  I am already feeling the need for some male support in our heavily female dominated home."

Mom joins the hug, after giving Dad a poke in the ribs for that last comment. I blink back a few tears, feeling loved. It is nice to know that my real family is not abandoning me.

"It is okay to cry a little." Mom tells me when she sees me holding back. "You're a girl now. One of the benefits of being a girl is that you can show emotion."

A few tears do find their way down my cheeks.s.

"The only problem with crying" she observes, "is that you have to fix your makeup afterwards."

She drags me back into the bathroom, where she shows me how to touch up my makeup from the repair kit found in the purse.

---------

A thousand thanks go to Gabi for her continued editing support.  Her efforts have made this much better than it would have been.

Something Feels Strange…

"It is okay to cry a little," Mom tells me when she sees me holding back. "You are a girl now. One of the benefits of being a girl is that you can show emotion."

A few tears do find their way down my cheeks.

"The only problem with crying" she observes, "is that you have to fix your makeup afterwards."

She drags me back into the bathroom, where she shows me how to touch up my makeup from the repair kit found in the purse.

Chapter 8: Deportment & Dad Time

After checking out of the hotel, Dr. Quinn and Joe transferred all my Scout camp bags from the family mini-van to the Mercedes. My new luggage ends up in the mini-van and Mrs. Quinn's overnight bag follows my scout supplies into the Mercedes. There is a young man in a scout uniform that I don't recognize waiting for us. I don't know where he came from and no one seems to want to explain it. He is, apparently, a decoy used to make it look like Dad and I left town together. We let him use the room to change out of his uniform before we finished checking out.

Like I said earlier, this cloak and dagger stuff gets pretty complicated. I worry that there are just too many people involved in this charade. Oh well, I am just a minor player in the game. Who am I to question the powers that be?

Mrs. Quinn is watching my every move as we leave the hotel room and head out to eat. She had to stop me from helping the men move the bags around. She whispered in my ear that it is good to let the men do the heavy lifting. That is what a normal girl would do.

The girl lessons continue. As a matter of fact, I suspect that they have barely begun.

After climbing into the mini-van, I am told that I walk like a boy and also enter a car like a boy. I wonder why? I ask myself with no small amount of sarcasm.

"Okay, Kris," Mrs. Quinn begins, "you need to take slightly smaller steps and put one foot more in front of  the other. You walk like John Wayne after he has finished a long trail ride. Even a tomboy is more feminine than that. Bring your elbows in a bit too. Girls walk with their elbows in and hands out more than guys do.

"And," she continues, "when a girl sits in a car, normally she sits first then swings her legs in with her knees together. Getting out is the opposite motion. This technique comes from wearing skirts. Sitting any other way looks inelegant and will give a cheap thrill to any guy in the area. Maybe we should have gotten you a tight skirt to wear. That might force you to walk and sit more like a girl. Some high heels would help to."

Bad idea, is what I think – if that counts for anything.

"When we get to the restaurant, take some time to watch the other girls," she continues. "Pay particular attention to how they walk and sit. I suspect that you will probably try to sit like a guy. In fact you are doing it right now. Try to keep your knees together or cross your legs like you see women do. Sometimes girls will sit with legs spread like that, but it is not appealing on a female even when wearing jeans. Don't get too worried about mistakes at this point – we can write off any mistakes to your tomboy wilderness background – with the body that you have now, no one will ever suspect that you were once a boy. Regardless, please try to move like a girl. You won't stand out if you act like a typical girl. If you act strangely you are likely to get a lot of ribbing or outright meanness from your new peer group. Teen girls can be pretty ruthless when someone behaves differently from the way they think they should."

Dr. Quinn drives us to the IHOP restaurant down the street. Joe and our decoy follow in the Mercedes. They stay outside while we go in for breakfast. I pay attention to my car exiting and walking procedures as we head across the parking lot. I reach to open the door for Mrs. Quinn but Dr. Quinn steps in front of me and holds the door for both us girls. It looks like I have yet another habit to break.

We are seated at a booth near a window looking out at the parking lot. As I start to climb into the booth, Mrs. Quinn touches me on the arm and gives me a look that says 'act like a girl'. I get the hint. I turn, sit, swivel (holding those knees together), then slide into the booth. Once seated, she whispers to me, "Better Kris, but keep practicing. It needs to be smoother and automatic. Be patient. I expect that it will take time to get it perfect."

Oh boy! So much to think about.

I try crossing my legs, something that I have never thought was comfortable as a boy. In the my new body, it seems much easier. It must be the wider hips and lack of obstruction in the crotch that makes it so.

I observe a group of five teenage girls about my age walk across the parking lot and enter the restaurant together. A couple of them are wearing high heeled sandals and are taking rather short steps. Whatever it is that they are talking about has the gaggle in giggles. I notice that they tend to be more expressive with their hands than guys. They also seem to enjoy personal contact as they hug or get close to each other frequently. The five cram into a four person booth without a second thought.

Looking at how they are dressed, I realize that I am dressed more conservatively than they are. Mom, I know, would not approve of how low some the tops are cut and how almost all the tops don't quite match up with the tops of the pants or skirts that they are wearing. Two of the girls are wearing short denim skirts, two are in very low cut jeans that have no extra room, and the last is wearing shorts. Two of the girls should have tried for looser clothes as they definitely qualify as muffin tops. They look gross with their extra flesh bulging over the waist-bands of their bottoms. It doesn't seem to bother them though. They are having a good time.

"What'll ya have, Honey?" The waitress snaps me out of my observation.

I've been to IHOP many times in many places, so I know what I want without looking at the menu. I am starving so I go for my favorite order.

"I'll take the Double Blueberry Pancakes, with sausages and two eggs, over easy, and a large class of milk, please," I say.

She looks me funny. "A girl with a healthy appetite," she comments.

After taking the grown up orders, she heads back to the kitchen to place the order.

"Kristina, that is a lot of food for a girl," Dr. Quinn observes. "I think that you might find that you can't put it away like you used to."

I am used to eating anything in sight. All the running and my young male metabolism have kept me skinny despite my eating habits. My parents have complained that our food budget is severely strained by my food intake. They expected to get rich this summer just from the savings at the grocery store.

"Sweetheart," Mrs. Quinn begins, "You will find that girls can't eat as much as guys. For one, they are smaller. Also, their metabolisms tend to be slower. If you are not careful, you can easily end up looking like some of those girls that you've been observing."

Great object lesson.

"When your food arrives," she continues, "don't feel obligated to eat it all. Eating is not a macho test for you anymore. Also, try to resist shoveling it in like you are prone to do. You need to slow down some and take smaller bites."

The girl lessons are coming thick and fast this morning: watch how you walk... watch how you sit... let men help with the heavy things... let men open doors for you... watch how you eat – I am sure that the list will only get longer. I almost think that I need to be taking notes.

"I'll try to remember that, but I am starving right now," I lightly complain. "So, where do we go from here?"

"After we have some breakfast," Dr. Quinn says, "my stunningly beautiful wife" – Ugh!, there they go again! – "will be returned to her car, which is hidden near the beauty shop, by Joe who will also drop off our decoy. You and I will continue to a soon-to-be-disclosed location so that you can catch your flight. On this flight, you will be further schooled in the art of girlhood by a qualified professional, or so we are told. After dropping you off, I am going to find a nice quiet spot to do some fishing for the rest of the afternoon, then head home to a much more peaceful household with all the prospects for a relaxing summer."

I ignore the good hearted jab at the effect of my departure from home.

"What's with all the secret stuff?" I ask. "We are away from home."

"Your Aunt Jennifer tells us that we may have people watching us," Mrs. Quinn says. "Even if they are not, we need to be careful. The creation and debut of Kristina Jeffers is being carefully orchestrated. We don't want to do anything that jeopardizes the project."

About this time the food arrives and we focus on my eating habits again.

The parents are right. Again. As usual? My ability to pack away the food has been seriously diminished. I polish off the eggs and sausage, but only get half way through the pancakes before I get to the point where it hurts to eat any more. I should have stopped at one pancake. Trying to tackle four was way beyond my new capacity.

I finally lower my fork and call it quits.

"I don't think that I'll need to eat again today," I moan.

"I see that you still have that male competitive spirit." Mom observes. "Girls don't need to prove themselves every time they turn around, sweetheart. No one will care if you don't beat everyone in sight or finish what you start if it is unwise."

Another girl lesson.

Mom decides that we need to fix our makeup after eating, so she drags me off to the ladies room while Dad pays the bill.

The women's room: A sacred place where men fear to tread.

As I confront the door, I hesitate. Mom sees this.

"Better sooner than later, sweetheart. In we go!" She whispers to me as she takes me by the hand and literally drags me inside.

She is obviously trying to get me through as many girl lessons she can before she has to turn me loose.

The room is small. Small restaurants aren't known to have large restrooms. I observe that it is not too unlike the male side. The big difference is that the urinal is missing and in its place is another toilet stall. There is are only two stalls in this restroom. There is also a small counter with a couple of sinks and with a large wall mirror above it. There is also the stock air hand drier, liquid soap dispenser, paper dispenser, and large trash bin. This room also has a wall mounted dispenser where feminine hygiene products can be purchased – I am NOT ready to go there!

I am a little disappointed. I'm not sure what I expected, but this room does not appear to be anything mystical.

"You have a lot of traveling to do today, Kris," Mrs. Quinn points out. "Women seem to need to go to the toilet a lot more than guys – one of the downsides of your new sex. You will soon learn to take every opportunity to use the facilities." She ducks into one stall and suggests that I use the other.

As I drop my jeans and panties, I feel really out of place. The panties down past my knees are not a normal sight. Sitting down on the toilet I try to relax and let things flow. The need to urinate is not very strong and I am not having success. It is clear that the muscular structure in my crotch is different from my old one. I try contracting and loosening the unfamiliar muscles, all to no avail.

Giving up, I stand up and pull up my panties and jeans.

Mrs. Quinn, who was successful, is washing her hands at the sink. I join her.

Next is a makeup repair lesson. As I don't have much on to get messed up I am instructed to just reapply my lip gloss. This time I try doing it on my own. I don't stay between the lines and have to try it again. It is passable on the second try, but not quite up to standards. The third attempt is acceptable, but I can tell that more practice is in order.

We finish up and find Dr. Quinn waiting patiently by the door. I can see it in his expression, but he is wise enough not to say it – What takes so long? He gets a quick kiss for good behavior from his wife.

Standing by the family car, Mom wraps me in a big hug. She is misty eyed. "Sweetheart, we are going to miss you around the house this summer. This job of yours sounds exciting. Just don't get yourself into anything dangerous. Hopefully you can come over to see us from time to time. We love you and look forward to your return in August."

My parents may be a little unreasonable at times, but it is good to feel loved. I know that they have my best interests at heart. I get misty eyed too.

"Mrs. Quinn, I love you too, but I don't want to mess up this makeup. I don't think I can redo it by myself!" I joke.

She gives a final squeeze then lets me go. "You need to work on that, sweetheart."

"I hate to break this up, ladies, but we need to hit the road," Dr. Quinn interjects before giving his wife her six-second kiss.

"Remember everything that I taught you," She admonishes me.

"I will," I reply. It is a difficult parting.

I climb into the front seat of the family car in a lady-like fashion and Dr. Quinn heads for the freeway.

"Kris," Dr. Quinn begins, "I'm having a real difficult time seeing my son in this pretty package. I can see your personality, but it is hard to make the connection with the old Chris. I hope you don't take this wrong, but I think that it easier for me to view you as the new Kris – someone else's daughter – right now. It is as if I have already dropped my son off at camp for the summer and I am giving the niece of a good friend a lift to the airport."

"I know what you mean," I reply. "I think that I am looking at someone else when I look at my current self. It's like I am along for the ride. I don't really know this girl. It is difficult, though, being an outsider to the Quinn family. I guess, to maintain my cover, it is best to be on the outside. It will take some getting used to."

We drive along in silence for a few miles, each lost in their own thoughts. A typical male approach to dealing with problems. We both feel comfortable with the approach.

We take a turn north on I-5.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"I have been asked to deliver you to Travis Air Force Base," he explains. "You will be flying north on a military aircraft. Something about not having any recent record of you having traveled to Alaska commercially. Also, a specialist will be using the time to give you some kind of training. That would be hard to do on a commercial aircraft."

"Dad," I want this to be a father-son chat, "why are you going along with this plan?"

"I've asked myself that a lot recently," he answers. "I guess the most important reason is that I have faith in your abilities. I was worried at first that this might be too much for you. The change in sex, the difficult time that you will have sorting out your relationship with Laurie, the change in your summer plans, the challenge of helping to find the spy. That is a lot to take on.

"Your mother and I have had long discussions about this, trying to decide on the best thing to do. We want to do the best thing for you as well as the best thing for the Lab and for national security." He continues; "Believe it or not, your well being is our primary concern. The security team psychiatrists have done a thorough job in analyzing your character, with Laurie's help, and assure us that you will pull through this.  They are convinced that you have the potential to make a great contribution. Apparently, your commitment to ideals of integrity and the ability to focus on mission-oriented goals should allow you to excel in this assignment. These character traits are also those that will allow you to come through this experience with strength.

"Apparently, it's rare to find a teenager like you. One with such integrity and maturity. We've always known that you were a special child, but it is nice to get that confirmed by experts," he says giving a wry smile.

"So, you're not just doing this for the sake of your research?" I ask. "The way that Mom painted the picture last night, you'd think that was your main motivation."

"Well," he admits, "that was a strong consideration. I guess that the threat to my work is what got my attention enough to consider the proposal. But don't think for a second that I wouldn't shut down my project for a season if I didn't feel that you were ready to help. The work that I am doing right now is highly classified. It has great potential for both good and evil. If recent discoveries from my team were to get in the wrong hands it could be used to do great harm to many people. The same is true of other research teams at the Lab. The espionage has caused all of the projects to slow down significantly as we have had to adopt new procedures that are designed to feed false information to the spies. It is hard to generate false information at the same time as seeking valid results. Particularly if you don't know whether or not one of the bad guys is a part of your own team.

"You need to realize that you are just one part of the system being used to catch the bad guys," he continues. "There are other efforts going on right now that you will be supplementing. No one knows if this ruse will work and you will probably never know if you helped or not. Your job, as I understand it, is to act like a sensor. You just collect requested information and feed it back to those who will combine it with information from other sources in an attempt to find where the leak is.  You will not be a part of the analysis or decision functions, neither will you be part of the apprehension or punishment of the culprits. In fact your job could get to be pretty boring."

"It doesn't sound as sexy as was portrayed last night," I comment. "I was hoping to be more like a teenage James – make that Jane – Bond."

"I don't doubt that you could do it," Dad laughs, "but we have the experienced trained professionals directing the show. But they are, after all, government employees so they could be like the keystone cops. We'll see. You will need to look out for yourself the best you can. If things appear to be getting out of control, let us know and we'll find a way to pull the plug on the operation."

"I will for sure," I affirm. "We need some kind of special password or something that I can use to let you know how I am doing."

"Apparently the security team is way ahead of you on that idea," he says. "I suspect that that will be part of your training this week, but, I think we need our own special code word in case the security team itself is a part of the problem. Any ideas on what we should use?"

I think for a few minutes. I am searching for something that only I and my parents would know. This is hard to do on the spot.

I have it!

"Why don't you ask me how my training is going, since I will still be a runner?" I suggest. "If I ever tell you that I am training for a 3k race, you will know that something is very wrong and immediate action is needed. If I say a 5k race, you know that things are not going well but that we have time to work something out. Anything longer means that things are okay. If I say a marathon, you will know that things are going extremely well."

"What if you really are training for one of those races and you just want to talk about it?" He asks.

"Good point. How about this: If I use the term 'jog' instead of 'run' then you will know that we have entered code mode" I say. "For example, if I say I'm going out JOGGING to prepare for a 3k race, then you know I am in trouble. If I say I'm going to RUN a 3k race, then you know that that is what I am going to do."

"That seems simple enough," he admits. "If I find out that you are in trouble and don't know it, I will suggest you go jogging instead of running."

"Good idea," I say.  Every serious runner I know, cringes when someone suggests that they go jogging.  Jogging is for wimps.

"I'll let your mother know and we will keep it among the three of us as our own code," He concludes.

We spend some more time talking about the ins and outs of the job as we each know right now. I am feeling better about the job and my parent's decision to support it. My commitment to the project is increasing.

We turn off the interstate onto CA-12 and head west. As we cross the Sacramento river into Rio Vista my bladder begins to complain. On request, Dr. Quinn stops at the local Chevron station to gas up the min-van. There is a McDonald's next door, and knowing the state of gas station restrooms, I opt for trying the one at McDonalds. It turns out to be a single person bathroom and I have to wait for the current occupant to vacate the premises before I can get in.

I find that releasing the flow is easy when there is sufficient pressure. I also begin to recognize which muscles do what. A few more times at this and I should have it worked out. Cleaning up, I return to the car and we continue on our way.

Eventually we pull up to the gate on the north side of the base and Dr. Quinn tells me to get out my ID card.

The guard inspects both my card and the one that Dr. Quinn produces, then waves us through. It is apparent that the good Doctor knows his way around here pretty well. We pull up outside a large hangar and park the car. Gathering my luggage, we approach a guard at the door to the hangar.

"Welcome back, Dr. Quinn," the guard says with a smile. Now that is interesting!  It looks as if Dr. Quinn is a frequent guest.

"Corporal Smith, it is good to see you again." Dr. Quinn says. "How is your new little girl doing?"

Dad should have been a politician. He has a great memory for people.

"Fine, Sir," Corporal Smith grins as he opens the door for us. "She is sleeping through the night now! Your plane is waiting. I will notify the pilots that you are here."

We enter the biggest room that I have ever seen! It looks like it can hold two 747s with room to spare. The only thing in it right now is a white Gulfstream business class jet. In this big hangar, the jet looks like a toy. A small toy.

An airman sees us and comes over to collect the baggage. I hang on to the book pack and my new purse while he stows the rest.

Standing by the plane are two women talking with each other. One, a tall brunette is wearing the flight suit of an Air Force officer. The other is casually dressed in slacks and a conservative blouse.

Dr. Quinn introduces the tall brunette as Major Compton and the slightly shorter red head as Mrs. Harrison, a Lab employee. I recognize her as the mother of Ben Harrison who is also on the school's cross country running team. Major Compton is an Air Force medical doctor.

Two female pilots in Air Force flight suits arrive as the introductions are being made. I am introduced simply as Kris.

The pilots try to herd us on the plane as they begin their preflight checks.

As the women enter the plane, Dr. Quinn pulls me aside and gives me a big hug.

"The Jeffers are lucky people," he says. "I hope that they treat their daughter well, knowing that she is only on loan. We look forward to seeing our son again in a couple of months. Remember that we love you. Don't hesitate to call any time – day or night – if you need anything."

"Thanks, Dad," I say with a watery eyes. "I am looking forward to the job. I'm also looking forward to returning. I really like being a Quinn. I love you." I stand on tip-toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. I figure that is what a girl would do. It feels right too.

His eyes are misty. I've not seen that before.

------------------

Many thanks again to Gabi for polishing this chapter!

Something Feels Strange…

"The Jeffers are lucky people," he says. "I hope that they treat their daughter well knowing that she is only on loan. We look forward to seeing our son again in a couple of months. Remember that we love you. Don't hesitate to call any time – day or night – if you need anything."

"Thanks, Dad," I say with a watery eyes. "I am looking forward to the job. I am also looking forward to returning again. I really like being a Quinn. I love you." I stand on my toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. I figure that is what a girl would do. It feels right too.

His eyes are misty. I've not seen that before.

Chapter 9: North to Alaska

We are airborne shortly after settling in our seats, lifting off around 11am local time.  The cabin of the jet is configured for eight passengers but there only the three of us.  The seats are arranged in two conversation groups with seats facing each other fore and aft.  There is a plasma screen TV on the forward bulkhead near the little kitchen that separates the pilots from the passenger area and the toilet is in the back of the aircraft.

Upon reaching cruising altitude, the copilot – Captain Davis – comes back to brief us.

"Welcome aboard ladies," she begins. "It looks as if it is an all female venture today.  We have some good chick-flicks in the library if you want to watch them. There is no stewardess on this flight, but feel free to help yourselves to anything in the galley. We have approximately five hours and twenty five minutes before we touch down at Elmendorf Air Force Base in Anchorage at about 3:30pm Alaska time. The sky is clear in Anchorage and the current temperature is a balmy 69 degrees Fahrenheit.  The seats recline to the point that you can sleep comfortably if you like.  We are expecting a smooth trip as there are no reports of turbulence along the way. If you have any questions for us, just pick up that phone on the bulkhead by the big screen. We have internet and satellite communications available to you if you require it.  Just let us know and we will hook you up. Do you have any questions?"

Major Compton does. "We will need privacy through most of the flight, so can you please announce yourselves before leaving the cockpit for anything?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the captain replies, "That is a pretty common request on this aircraft."

"And can we hook up a laptop to the TV screen?" Mrs. Harrison asks.

"Yes, Ma'am. There is a computer port on the side of the screen.  You will find cables in the cabinet below the screen.  Is there anything else?"

When no one has any further questions the co-pilot returns to the flight deck.

A quick search of the galley produces small sandwiches and drinks for the three of us.  As we settle in, I get the sense that I'm not going to get to watch the in-flight movie.

There is light chit-chat as we snack on the sandwiches.  When everyone is done, I take the remains to the trash receptacle in the galley.  In the mean time Mrs. Harrison extracts a laptop computer from a bag that she has been carrying and interfaces it with the big screen. 

Major Dr. Compton pulls out a large case which, when opened, reveals an array of instruments that I have never seen before.  I figure that I'm about to find out what most of them are for.

"Kris, you can call me Hilary," she begins. "There is no need for formality here.  My medical specialty is gynecology and I have been asked to give you a full examination.  Doing this in a small jet at 40,000 feet is a first for me, but I have performed this exam many times.  I don't know why we couldn't do this at the Base hospital and I don't want to know. A short trip to Alaska sounds like fun anyway."

"Before we get started," she continues, "I have a couple of questions for you.  First, when was the last time you had an exam?"

"Ah... would you believe never?" I ask.

"That's hard to believe," she says. "Highly unusual at best.  So does that mean that you don't know what we are going to do?"

"Yes, Ma'am." I reply.

"You can drop the Ma'am part if you like," she tells me. "Okay, so let's try another question.  When was your last period?"

"Never?" I tentatively answer.

"That, I don't buy," she looks at me sternly. "There is no way that a girl as developed as you are has never had a period. Look, Kris, I need your honest help here if I am to do my job."

Mrs. Harrison, who has been quietly watching the events unfold, decides to join the conversation.  Thanks! "Hilary, Kris is telling you the truth.  I can't go into the how or whys, because it is a need-to-know kind of a thing.  Trust her, I will let you know when she is pulling your leg."

Obviously the good Mrs. Harrison is part of the Lab's security team. 

The explanation seems to satisfy Hilary that I am not intentionally being uncooperative, but it does not take away her confusion.

"How about any known health problems?" she asks.

"None that I know of," I reply sincerely.

Hilary hands me a paper hospital gown and directs me to go into the lavatory to get undressed and put on the gown.  That would be as in completely undressed, she tells me.

The lavatory in this tiny business jet is actually spacious compared to a normal commercial airliner's lavatory.  Changing into the gown goes quickly. It is easy to avoid the small mirror, which I studiously do. Again, no time for self exploration or evaluation. The cabin of the jet, like all jet cabins, is a bit on the cool side.  This raises goose bumps all over.  The gown doesn't cover much and provides no insulation whatsoever.

Back in the cabin, I discover the ladies have reclined one of the seats to a near horizontal position and covered it with a sheet.

The first task is to measure my height and weight.  This is done with a tape measure and a portable bathroom scale.  Hilary mumbles something about using less than optimum equipment.  It turns out that I am five foot six and a half and weigh 114 lbs.  Pretty skinny I'm told.  I don't know about that, I feel a lot fatter than before the change, particularly in the rear end and chest.

"Sit here, Kris", Hilary points to the covered seat and takes the seat facing me. 

Next up, she takes my pulse and blood pressure.  Both are relatively low.

"You must be an athlete," Hilary observes.

She heats a stethoscope with her hand then starts listening to my heart and lungs.  You know how it goes, the doctor moves the stethoscope around your back and chest while having you take deep breaths.

"It would be good to do a lung capacity check.  I bet that your lungs have exceptional capacity," she observes as she notes the results in an electronic form on her laptop computer.

She has me open my mouth while she looks down my throat then feels the glands under my jaw.  She peers into each ear and my eyes as well. Next she has me lie back on the covered seat and begins prodding my abdomen looking for who knows what.

Keeping her hands under the gown, she moves to my breasts and begins feeling around there.  Whoa! A new experience.  My nipples respond by standing at attention.

"A normal response," Hilary assures me when she sees the confused embarrassed expression on my face. "I don't imagine that you know how to do a breast self examination?"

I shake my head negatively.

"Somehow, I thought not," she replies before launching into a how-to-do-it lesson.  She has me sit up and try it a couple of times myself until she reckons that I have the procedure down.  The gown had to come off for that – it was embarrassing being the only naked one there.

While the gown was off, she does a close exam of the skin.  Front and back.  She says that she is looking for moles and other skin ailments.  She doesn't find any.

She tells me to slip the gown back on.  I'm not sure why since it doesn't hide anything.

After I replace the gown, she says, "Now for the hard part.  This would be a lot easier in the office, but I need to do an internal pelvic examination.  Everyone hates this part.  It is both uncomfortable and invasive.  Unfortunately, it is also vitally important.  Normally we have stirrups that hold your legs up and out of the way.  What we are going to have to do here, is have you grab your knees and spread your legs to give me access to your vagina.  Susan, I will need you to hold the flashlight so that I can see what I need to see."  I am on display. I tell myself to relax and endure.

"What I'm going to do," she explains as she holds up a strange looking device, "is insert this speculum into your vagina, then spread it so that I can see your cervix. It will be very uncomfortable and maybe even hurt a little. I will do this as quickly as I can, but it does take a little time.  I need you to be tough and hold the position until I'm done."

This is not sounding at all like fun.

She lubricates the speculum with some kind of jelly, then tells me to assume the position.  I close my eyes and hold my breath, waiting for the breach.

"Kris, I know this is hard, but please relax as much as you can," she encourages me. "It will make this go much easier."

That request is easier said than done. I use the relaxation techniques that I have learned from distance running.  To run distances effectively, runners learn to relax all muscles not needed to maintain the pace so as to minimize the energy needed to cover long distances.  This is a powerful technique that I try to apply to this situation.

It doesn't work as well as I'd like.

Hilary inserts the speculum as gently as possible, but it is still uncomfortable.  I feel somehow violated.  Then she spreads the arms of the device.  Ouch!  I have to take a deep breath and hold it.  Relax, I tell myself, but I am not very successful.

"Hang in there Kris," she tries to sooth me. "You are doing well. Just a little more." She moves the device around.

I close my eyes tightly and hold my breath as I try to 'hang in there'.

After what seems like an eternity, she collapses the mechanism and withdraws it. She wipes my crotch with some tissue and tells me that I can relax now.  I let go of my knees and lay there for a few seconds.  It still hurts.

Hilary tells me that I can get dressed now as she heads to the galley into rinse off her torture implement.

Back in the lavatory, I clean my crotch as best I can and put my clothes back on.  As I am finishing up with the top, I check in with brain central, who has been uncharacteristically quiet for a long time.  I have been female for a sum total of less than twenty four hours now and putting on these clothes seems like no big deal.  It appears that brain central has accepted the change now and is looking at new experiences as things to catalog and assimilate into it's programming.  Even invasive procedures and the new clothes.  None of these activities seems physically threatening.  Just physically new.

I reflect that the transition has happened quicker than I would have thought possible and wonder what that says about me. Or does it have something to do with the transformation?

I catch myself looking in the mirror, noticing that my lip gloss could use a touch up. My purse is out with my stuff in the cabin. I must have put too much on last time, because it has smeared a little.  I try cleaning it out with a tissue, with moderate results. In the end I just decide to wipe it off.

Back in the cabin it is time to hear Hilary's assessment of my physical condition.

"Just before we land, I'll take blood and urine specimens for further tests.  Regardless, you appear to be perfectly healthy." She announces. "Nothing is out of place.  Even your hymen is in place.  It is becoming less common to see a sixteen-year-old virgin these days."

"Your muscle tone is excellent," she continues, "and your heart and lungs seem to be unusually strong.  It appears that your first period is not too far a way.  I would give it a week or so. I take it, that no one has told you what to expect when that happens?"

I shake my head negatively and say, with some trepidation, "No."

Hilary goes on to explain about bloating and cramps.  She digs out a sanitary pad and a tampon – every girl carries these, and a spare pair of panties, with her, I am told – and explains their use.  Apparently I can expect a day or two with 'heavy flow'. Oh joy! I am told to get pads in several different weights to accommodate different flow conditions.  I am a bit wary of the tampons.  She tells me to be careful about leaving them in too long as there are some health problems that can occur if I do.

This condition is to be expected about every four weeks. It may vary some.  I need to keep a record in case things go wrong.

"Birth control pills can help regulate the timing and reduce the cramping associated with your period," she explains, "in addition to accomplishing their primary purpose."  Oh joy – I can get pregnant now! – "I recommend that you fill and use this prescription."  She hands me the paper, which goes into my purse.

"In short, you are a healthy sixteen-year-old girl that is in better than average physical condition." Hilary pronounces. "Have you any questions?"

Feeling embarrassed, but recognizing an opportunity, I ask, "Can you teach me more about all the parts down there. Like what and where everything is. How do I take care of it?  It is more complicated that I thought it would be." I wave my hand at my crotch.

She looks at me strangely. You can see her thoughts in her expression. 'How does a sixteen-year-old girl not know this.'  You can tell that she wants to ask the question, but knows that she shouldn't.  Isn't military training wonderful!

"Susan," she addresses Mrs. Harrison, "do you have the internet up?"

"Yes," Mrs. Harrison replies, "I'll just pop it up on the big screen."

You can find anything on the net these days.  Including, I found out, more than one medical site that gives a graphic view of female genitalia, complete with an explanation of what everything is.  We find one with a full crotch view of a woman the points shows the fleshy folds, the vagina, urethra, and clitoris.  Hilary launches into an explanation of what each of the elements is and their care and cleaning.  Now I have had human reproductive education before, but this was a lot more detailed than what I remember. The boys are not given the full female maintenance lecture.  Mostly I remember turning scarlet whenever we talked about the private parts of girls and boys when we discussed such things in school.  Back then I was very relieved when the discussion was over. Now, it somehow seems more important to know more about the care of my new body.

I have her back up and tell me more about the clitoris.  I am not at all familiar with this element.  I get another strange look from Hilary, but she refrains from asking questions.  She goes on to tell me about how this feature actually is used to stimulate sexual excitement.  She explains that by stimulating the clitoris, I become sexually aroused, and it causes "that moist feeling" that lubricates the vagina for sexual activity.

I'll have to check this out.

"Surly you have noticed how moist you get when you get aroused?" she asks. "It is a very normal reaction for a girl with raging teenage hormones."

I decide to not confuse her more so I nod my head affirmatively.

She spends some time talking to me about the things that typically go wrong 'down there'.  She spends a long time talking about the horrors of vaginal yeast infections.  She suggests using panties that breath well (cotton is high on the list), allowing air exposure at night (no panties, and nightgowns are preferable to pajamas), and drying the vaginal area completely after bathing.  I think I will need an owner's manual.  Being a guy was never this complicated!

She begins explaining the internal reproductive organs and how they work, but as I remember the general details from school, I am able to get her to keep the lecture short.

I get the sense, with some relief, that the medical investigation and briefing is winding down now.  It has taken almost two hours.

"We are finished for now, Kris." Hilary tells me, finally. "Unless, that is, you have any more questions."

"Not right now, Hilary," I reply.

"Hilary," Mrs. Harrison says, handing the doctor a business card, "I need you to email me a copy of your notes and report to this address."

Before letting Mrs. Harrison get started with her presentation we take a refreshment break.  I pick up the flight deck phone and ask the pilots if there is anything that I can get for them.  They ask if this would be a good time for them to use the facilities and I inform that this would be.  They come back one at a time, use the facilities, make a snack and return to the flight deck.  They tell us that we have just passed Seattle and will be following the coast line of the Gulf of Alaska most of the rest of the way.  It is suggested that we will want to peek out the window from time to time as the weather is clear and the views of the mountains below are spectacular.

Once the pilots are satisfied, Mrs. Harrison suggests that Hilary might be more comfortable in an aft facing seat in the back half of the cabin and that earphones would be appropriate at this time.  Hilary takes a hint.  She pulls out her Ipod and some reading material then settles in for the remainder of the flight.

Up this point, Mrs. Harrison has been a quiet presence, helping Hilary when needed, but staying watchful in the background. I sense that that is about to change.

"Kris, let me start off by telling you how impressed I am." she begins. "I've known of you since Ben started running on the cross country team. I have also learned a lot about you from your profiles. In addition to being intelligent, the assessments show that you have a maturity way beyond your years, which makes you even more ideal for this project than we could have hoped for. I knew that you were mature and bright, but, still, I never expected you to make the transition so smoothly.  You are learning very quickly and I am very impressed."

"As you have probably determined by now," she continues, "I am part of the security team. I will also be your new supervisor at work. I manage the temporary help pool. I am here to orient you to your new summer job.  Welcome aboard!"

"Thanks – I think." I reply with heavy sarcasm. "Before we go too far, I think that you should know that I am not particularly happy with your recruiting methods. Some warning and choice would have been nice.  Also, it creeps me out that your team has been checking me out without my knowing it. And then there is the deception of my so called girlfriend that gets under my skin."

It feels good to get that out!

"Sorry about that," she says apologetically. "Things got a little out of control in the past couple of weeks.  If it is any consolation, we had planned on giving you some warning, but we did give you a choice."

"Some choice," I say with continued sarcasm; "Sure, I could have backed out, but I was painted into a moral corner that would have been difficult to get out of."

"True," she admits, "but we are convinced that you would have accepted the job if things had gone to according to plan anyway. Don't you think that you would have?"

I've already been down this mental path.  I still don't like feeling like someone else is making my choices, even if they are the same ones that I would have made myself.

"Yes, I would've," I admit. "But I still feel violated."

"That's understandable," she notes. "Regardless, we need to know if you are with us or not.  As I said, we are all very impressed with your integrity. We know that you question ours, and rightly so, but I think that if you knew the whole story, you would at least admit we are not totally without morals.  We did everything we could to make sure that you were the right person for the job while trying to maintain secrecy. We had to be absolutely certain that you were right for us and that you could deal with the situation before we could move forward.

"As far as Laurie is concerned, you really need to talk with her about her role in this.  We are impressed with her too.  She figured out a lot of the story even when we tried to keep her from knowing what we are really trying to do.  In fact, we don't really know how much of this plan she has actually figured out. I'm pretty sure she knows a lot less about this plan than you and we need to keep it that way for her safety as well as for the success of the project. Her job was just to help us gather information about our candidates without knowing why we needed it. We told her what we wanted to know and she obtained it. I think that you will find that she has been your advocate in this process, but then again, I'll let her tell her own story. Things aren't always as they seem.

"I talked with your mother just before you arrived at Travis.  She called Jen this morning after she left you. Laurie knows that you are feeling violated and that you blame her, at least in part, for it. Laurie feels pretty bad about the situation according to your mothers. Just give her a chance, okay?"

"I'll try," I grumble. I am beginning to wonder if Laurie might have some valid excuse for what she did.  Even if she does, how do I know if her feelings about us are genuine or not?  Was it all a sham? Where can we go from here? So many questions.

"So," Mrs. Harrison enquires, "are you with us?"

Thinking for a minute, I rehash the reasoning of the early morning hours and come to the same result.

"Sure," I reply with a sigh, "I'm in. I'm just not totally happy right now."

"Good, we'll take what we can get.  Let's get started on the job training.  We have a lot of ground to cover." She says enthusiastically. "And, by the way, you might want to get in the habit of sitting in a more lady-like fashion."

I cross my legs, reminding myself of the morning's girl lessons.

The next couple of hours are spent going over the job expectations and some of the resources that will be available to me.  I'll spare you the dialog and give you the summary.

First of all, I am being hired at the Intern I level – the lowest level job at the Lab.  It is also one of the most invisible jobs.  I will be assigned to a pool of office helpers that Mrs. Harrison supervises.  My cover job is to be miscellaneous office help where needed so I will be helping with filing, copying, minor word processing and the like. The beauty of the job is that I will be able to turn up anywhere on the site, without question.  Another major reason for being female for this assignment is that the males – the lab professionals are predominately male – tend to be more helpful and accommodating towards young women than young men.  They treat them differently from boys; it is as if the girls need protecting. A girl will get better reception and be more likely be brought into someone's confidence, particularly if that person feels the need to take a mentor role.  It is expected that a young high school girl will be weak – not be considered much of a threat.  The security team hopes that my male perspective, hidden in a female package, will make it possible for me to see things that a real girl wouldn't. It is worth a try.

My interface with the security team will be to fill out questionnaires supplied by secure email on a regular basis.  They are to be filled out and returned promptly.  The questionnaires are designed to extract information from me without telling me exactly what they are looking for. Apparently this is the same system that they used to get information from Laurie about me.  All she had to do was answer questions about me and what she thought my responses to hypothetical situations would be. If she didn't know, then she would find or create opportunities to find out.  The team then uses this information in their analysis.

Keeping me out of the analysis loop protects the team should I be uncovered somehow as an agent.  I would not know anything about the security team's plans or what they are thinking.  In this way, I would not be able to leak any significant information to the wrong parties.  It also helps me maintain my cover as an innocent intern.

Mrs. Harrison has attached a well-used laptop computer to the big screen.  I am told that this is to be my new personal computer. The computer lid has an Alaska flag sticker on it as well as a sticker saying "Alaska Girls Kick Ass" – apparently a sticker popular with girls in the Great Land. I won't be able to bring the computer to the Lab for work since there are tight controls on taking computers on and off the site, but I will be using it plenty of times to respond to the questionnaires. 

She starts by pulling up some aerial photographs of the Lab and pointing out the major locations where the endangered research projects are.  I am expected to memorize where everything is, and yet act clueless when I get there.  She also brings up profiles, including images, of many of the major players whom they want me to watch.  She shows me where to find these files on the computer for more detailed study later.  The files are password protected in an encrypted part of the system.

She also pulls up images and biographies of my new family.  I study them closely.  I can definitely see the family resemblance between Aunt Jennifer and Mom Polly.  I fit the same mold.  After looking at Dad Bill's image, I can see some of him in my face as well. There is also some resemblance between me and my new brother, Tom. There is little doubt that I am genetically part of this family.

I am told that the family does not know about my sex change. They think that they are getting a disguised girl for a daughter.  We want to keep it that way.  Wow, talk about pressure!  I must act like a girl from day one for my new family.

Next, she shows me how to access my account at the Alaska USA Federal Credit Union and my AT&T account for the cell phone.  I am happy to see that I already have several thousand dollars in the bank and unlimited use of the cell phone.  I like this.  Mrs. Harrison points out that the money in the account is to cover the cost of additional clothing and girl supplies that I will be needing this summer and for paying the cell phone bill.  I don't have an unlimited budget, I am told, so need to be careful about my spending.

Mrs. Harrison informs me that I have a busy week ahead.  The major goals being to finish rounding out my profile as Kris, getting to know my new family, becoming familiar with south central Alaska, more training in girl mannerisms, and getting me back to running again in my new body.

After discussing the job for a while, we get into some fun geek stuff.  I am to receive two neat electronic toys to help me accomplish my secret agent job.

First of all, the laptop computer is much more sophisticated than meets the eye.

The machine has an incredible amount of memory which is faster than anything available commercially.  The hard drive capacity is one terabyte. The system is also equipped with a webcam, a very sensitive omni-directional microphone, and a GPS receiver. The computer is never really turned off.  When the computer appears to be turned off it knows where it is and is capable of connecting wirelessly with available networks to transmit and receive whatever it needs to, including email and instant messages.   The network interface card is also capable of proprietary data encryption for transmission to similarly equipped computers on the internet. 

Even though nobody expects me to be in any dangerous situations, there are software programs on the computer that allow me to send distress signals of varying degree simply by pressing the right key combinations.  I can leave the computer out anyplace, apparently turned off, and it will record sounds for transmission to remote computers or later playback.  Great for eavesdropping. The computer's listening abilities can be activated or terminated remotely. If it ever gets lost or stolen, the security team can interrogate the computer to find out where it is and what it's condition is.

The battery is awesome.  The computer can be left on for three hours and the battery will maintain the background systems for at least fourteen hours before totally shutting down.

To the normal user, the computer looks like any other PC laptop computer.  It runs Windows XP at the same slow rate that other similar computers do. You need to know the special key sequences to access the real power of the system.

The computer has a remote control, as found on many laptops.  Instead of just accessing the media functions, this remote can activate the computer's emergency messaging system or put it into audio record mode.

Like I said, not your average laptop.

The cell phone, Mrs. Harrison tells me, is similarly equipped. 

It also has a built-in GPS and can be used as a remote microphone simply by pressing the correct key sequence to activate the microphone.  The audio is then sent over the cell network to servers that record what the cell phone hears or can be stored in the 32 gigabyte memory for later recall.  All calls on the cell phone are automatically recorded into the memory and can be accessed remotely by the security team.  When the emergency system is activated, the device sends a text message to the security team with time, date, and location information.

I guess that I am going to have be careful about what I do or say around either of these devices!  Mrs. Harrison tells me that they have obtained a court order allowing them to essentially tap this cell phone line legally for the whole summer.

She then shows me the address books on both the cell phone and the computer email system.  They are pretty full. My new parents and brother are prominent in the phone log.  There are also a few girl's names in the lists.  I assume that these are my new girl friends in Alaska.

The music loaded on the cell phone and computer is typical of that listened to by a young teenage girl.  I guess that I am going to need to learn to listen to a whole new set of tunes.

I guess Mrs. Harrison should really be called 'Q' after the character in the Bond books and movies who supplies all the real neat gadgets to 007.

We spend most of the rest of the flight learning how to use the features of the cell phone and computer.  This is actually fun.

By then the orientation is winding down, I realize that I haven't given any thought at all to my transformation in several hours.  Well, even though Mrs. Harrison has gently reminded me to implement girl mannerisms constantly, I haven't been bothered by being a girl.

"Mrs. Harrison?" I ask, "Did the transformation process mess with my mental conditioning at all?"

"Not to my understanding," she replies. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," I reply, "for some reason, I find myself less concerned by the transformation than I would have thought.  After all, I have never given any thought to what it might be like to be a girl."

"I'm no psychologist," she points out, "but your profiles did indicate that you would probably adapt well since your intelligence and maturity are well above that of your typical sixteen-year-old boy. I hesitate to mention this, but the profiles also showed that your personality might feel comfortable as either sex, with slight adjustments.  It is also possible that we have kept you so distracted that you have not had the time dwell on the change directly.  This allows your subconscious to ease into the concept before you get the time to really analyze the situation.  The new brain structure and the female hormones flooding your body may also have some impact on your transition.

"I imagine that the experiences that you have had would be even more difficult for your average sixteen-year-old boy than it appears to be for you," she continues. "As I said before, I'm really impressed with how well this transition is going for you. A lot of the success, I am sure, can be attributed to your ability to focus on the mission like you have the past few hours."

Maybe I am one of those people that can be happy either way, like those that I had heard about on that radio talk show.  I certainly hope so, I really don't want to have a melt down.  I am hanging on to the idea that this is all temporary – just a new uniform for my summer job. Everything will return to normal when this is over.  From that perspective, I can look on this as an adventure.

About half an hour before arrival in Anchorage, we pack things up and Hilary gets her blood and urine samples.  The urine specimen is a lot trickier to get as a girl than as a guy.

As an after thought, Mrs. Harrison digs through her briefcase and produces a booklet entitled Alaska Driver's Manual.

Handing it to me, she says, "You must study this tonight. You need an Alaska driver's license for ID. Your mother will be taking you in for your driver's test at 10am tomorrow. The rules are not a lot different from California's, so I'm sure you'll do fine."

The three of us take time to look out the window as we get closer to Anchorage.  Wow, I have never seen so many mountains all in one place.  Most of them are still snow-capped, so I get cold just looking at them.  We even spot a few huge glaciers.  As we get closer to the city, the pilots tell us where to look for Mt. McKinley – at 20,320 feet, the tallest mountain in North America – to the northwest.  It looks huge on the horizon.

Before landing, the Mrs. Harrison helps me to get my makeup fixed up for the forthcoming 'reunion' with my new family.

In no time at all we are instructed to buckle in for the landing at Elmendorf AFB, which the pilots perform with military precision.

We taxi into a large hanger – not as big as the hanger at Travis, but is much bigger than needed for this small jet.

As we deplane, I notice a silver Toyota Tundra crew cab pickup truck and a mini bus waiting just outside the big doors.  A large man wearing casual clothing comes over to great us.  I recognize him from the photos that Mrs. Harrison showed me.

"Hello, Kristina, welcome home to Alaska," he greets me with a smile.

He is in pretty good shape for a guy who was broken up in a life threatening training accident a little over a week ago.

I figure that it is time to start playing the game and I'm pretty sure that I know what I need to do having seen my sisters do it to my father a thousand times.

"Hi, Daddy," I say with a smile as I give him a big hug, and a kiss on the cheek.

"Ooh –," he says with a grin, "I think I'm going to enjoy having a daughter!"

-------------------------

Thanks again to Gabi for catching most of my errors. Your reading experience is better because of her efforts!

Something Feels Strange…

"Hi, Daddy," I say with a smile as I give him a big hug, and a kiss on the cheek.

"Ooh –," he says with a grin, "I think I'm going to enjoy having a daughter!"

Chapter 10: Fatherly Advice

After thanking the pilots for a comfortable – well, sort of, the discomfort was not their fault – flight and saying good bye to my two travelling companions, my new father and I load my bags in the back of his truck and depart.  It is only 4pm, so Major Jeffers decides to give me a tour of the Air Force Base and Army Post before heading for home.  He explains that I need to know my way around. 

The Base and Post are next to each other and share a few facilities like the hospital and base exchange – known as the BX – a large store where military people can get things cheaper than in town. The setting is stunning.  The two installations are covered in birch forests and there are mountains on the east border and an ocean inlet to the west.  There are still large patches of snow on the mountains.

As we drive around, Major Jeffers – Dad – is all business, giving me a running commentary about what we are seeing.  He also explains the rules regarding, and expectations of, military dependents.  He quizzes me on what he is telling me, just to make sure that it is all sinking in.

So far, I am only seeing the officer in Major Jeffers.  Neither of us quite knows how to become family, or if we even want to given the short time we have together.  Part of the problem is that we both know that I can't really talk about my past and I am here today and gone tomorrow, so to speak.  It is hard to get to know someone without actually knowing about them and relationships take time to develop.  Time is something that we don't seem to have much of and real relationships are not mission critical.

After an hour of touring, we leave the Post and head towards the Jeffers' home.  Along the way he tells me the names of the parts of the town.  Apparently every segment of town has its own name. He explains that I need to know something about the area in case someone quizzes me.

"Who will know anything about Alaska?" I ask.

"You'd be surprised," he replies. "With all the military, oil, fishing, and tourism people that pass through, there are lots of people in the 'Lower 48' with a working knowledge of the area.  While only about six hundred thousand people live in the state, there are about 3 million people outside of Alaska who have lived here for at least a short time.  I run into them all the time whenever I go down south. Also, people seem to be very curious about the northern wilderness so you need to be able to tell them a little bit about it. As I understand it, your cover story has it that you have lived here for six years, so you certainly ought to know something about the area."

By the time we get to the house, I am pretty sure that my new Dad is a decent guy – he is definitely friendly.  I hope that he is thinking similar thoughts about me, though as a girl, rather than a guy.

Their home is a large two story wooden framed house up on a mountain side overlooking the city.  It sits on two acres of birch forested land.  It is very upscale and nice.

As we pull into the driveway, Dad says, "I should warn you that my niece has been like a cat on a hot tin roof ever since Amanda Quinn called Jen this morning.  I get the feeling she is not looking forward to your arrival. I don't know what is going on between you two, but you should be aware that you're going into a minefield.  You seem like a nice girl and so is she. Whatever it is, I hope that you two can get past it.  Unfortunately, we aren't going to give you much time to work on it tonight; the schedule is pretty full. When you do get time to work things out, let me know if you need a referee.  I've some experience working with soldiers who must work together when they have issues, so maybe I can help."

"Ah... Major Jeffers," I begin, "Laurie and I have been friends for a while now, and something has just come to light that calls that friendship into question." A major understatement. "I hope we can work it out too, but I have my doubts.  She needn't worry that I will rip her head off or anything. I'm sure that we can be civil about this but I am having trouble seeing where this will end up. Also, I've learned a few things in the last twenty-four hours that are in her favor.  I'll try to be nice.  Really I will.  And thanks for the offer for help.  Hopefully we can take care of this on our own."

"I hope so too, Princess," he says, "just remember my offer."

Princess? Where did that come from?

Seeing the shocked and confused look on my face, he laughs, "I always thought that if we had a daughter that that is what I would call her.  In our short time together, I can see that the title would fit you well. You are very well mannered, intelligent, and easy to be around in addition to being pretty. Let's get you inside to meet the rest of your new family."

I think that I just received a compliment.

If it wasn't for Laurie's presence, I would be looking forward to this.

The Major takes my two suitcases while I follow behind with my new-to-me computer bag, purse and backpack.

As we approach the front door opens, seemingly on its own, and a large black Labrador Retriever comes bounding out followed closely by a tall boy a couple of years older than me.  This must be Tom, my new brother. The dog, practically knocks me over in his enthusiasm to check out the stranger.

"Hey, Max, down, boy," Tom shouts as he grabs Max's collar and pulls him back. "Sorry about that. Max likes to make new friends. You must be Kristina, you look like one of us.  Nice to meet you."

I nod my head at him in greeting. "And you must be Tom.  I am happy to meet you too."  I probably would have stuck out my hand to shake his if my hands weren't full.  I catch myself in the thought and try to figure what a girl would do.  A friendly little finger wave seems appropriate.  I've seen girls do that before.  I'll have to remember that next time.

"Why don't you help her with her bags?" the Major suggests.

"Sure thing, Dad," he says. "Let me take your computer bag."  I hand it over.

"Come on in." Tom invites us.

By this time Mrs. Mercer–Aunt Jen–and her sister are standing by the door.  They look a lot alike. Definitely sisters.

Aunt Jen takes care of the introduction.  "Polly, meet your new daughter, Kris.  Kris, this is your new mother."

"Hi, Mom," I say.

"Welcome home, Kris," Mother Polly says, smiling. "We've heard a lot about you and are excited to meet you."  I am wondering what she has heard.  I better have a chat with Aunt Jen as soon as possible to find out what the Jeffers know and don't know.

"Come in, come in. Let's get you settled," Mom Polly says as she gives me a hug.

Coming through the doorway into a roomy entry I see Laurie.  She is standing at the far side of the entry looking as if she'd like to be somewhere else. Must be the guilty conscience, I think to myself.  I take this as a good sign. At least she is not haughty about her deception.

"Hi," she says tentatively.

I just nod my head in acknowledgement.

Sensing the tension, Major Jeffers–Dad–asks Tom to take my bags up to my room, then invites us through to the big living room that overlooks the city.

Standing with me in front of the large picture window, he points out the different parts of town and names the various mountains across the inlet to the west.  I get the impression that I am supposed to remember all this.  Unfortunately, it has been long day after a long night and I am getting tired. A lot of the new information just washes over me.

The Major is in charge of the barbecue grill tonight and he invites me to help him out on the deck.  Fresh grilled salmon is on the menu tonight.  The fillet that he puts on the grill looks like it came from a small whale instead of a fish.

"Kris," the Major says, "Jen has told me a little about your assignment. How did you get wrapped up in this?"

How should I answer that question?  Much depends on what he has been told, I guess.  I know that the sex change was not part of their briefing.  The sex change is a very closely held secret.

"Well–," I begin uncertainly, "I was recruited–after a fashion.  Apparently the Lab created a profile for the perfect candidate, then went searching for the right person and they found me. I didn't even know about the job until last night."

He looks at me questioningly.  "That is interesting.  We have known about you for some time now."

"I am told that they have been planning this operation since last summer," I reply. I get the impression that I can trust this man, so I press on, without going into great detail. "Without my knowledge, I have been observed and evaluated all winter.  A little over a week ago was my first exposure to the job. I was thrust into the role for an evening without knowing what was going on.  It happened again last night. It wasn't until the wee hours of this morning that I was told what was happening and given a choice to join the team or back out of what I didn't even know I had walked into."

The Major is a pretty good judge of people.  I guess he senses my displeasure with the recruiting methods, but then again, you'd have to be deaf and blind to miss the messages that I am sending out.

"Testing someone's character in anticipation of a promotion or special assignment without them being aware is a common procedure," he explains. "We do it all the time in my business. It is important to know how a person will react when they don't think that they are under observation. In fact it is said that the true test of a person's character is in what they do when they are away from home and think that no one is looking. A corollary to that is that a person's character comes through when they are exposed to unusual circumstances and have to respond without knowing they are being evaluated. You'd be surprised what some people do when they think that they are away from scrutiny. In my business, we have passed on a number of promising candidates for important assignments because they let themselves down in a character test.  Most of them never knew that they were being evaluated and will never know what opportunities they missed as the result of their character flaws."

"I'm not thrilled with the deception," I state. "It is hard to trust anyone associated with the Lab's security team after this experience."

"And," he observes, "I take it that Laurie was part of the recruitment effort?"

"Yes," I reply flatly.

"I see. You should understand that no one likes to find out that they have been unknowingly under scrutiny – for good or bad – but it is an essential part of the process for determining a person's character," he informs me. "The person being tested must not know that they are being tested in order for a true character test to yield valid results."

Sensing my displeasure with the process, he continues, "As far as trusting the Lab people again goes, as I see it, you have two choices."

This is shaping up to be a man-to-man talk.  I can relate to this. I wonder if the Major knows how to talk to a real girl. I'm sure I don't–yet.

"First," he says, "you can recognize the test, and its associated deception, as a part of the selection process for a trusted position.  If you do, then you will feel honored that you passed the test and move forward.  Sure, you will naturally feel some distrust of the people that put you through the test, but then you will see it from their perspective and be okay with it if you come to believe in what it is that they want you to do.  Particularly since once they know that they can trust you, they won't try deception again unless you give them some reason to distrust you.  They may not tell you everything you want to know, but they won't be deceptive anymore.  You will be one of them. Part of the team.

"Your relationships with the team members will change, because the original ones are facades created to implement the test.  Once you're on the team, those facades drop and you can really get to know the people for who they really are.  You can work at establishing new relationships that can bring you some measure of joy.  Often times, you will find that the new relationships are, in many ways, better than the ones you thought you had during the test.

"Your other choice is to stand on principle, make a stink about it, and lose the opportunity.  You will still have changed relationships with the people that recruited you, but they will be sour and harboring the bad feelings will canker your soul.  Life will be miserable and you won't have a chance to be truly happy.  Standing on principle can cause you all sorts of problems, while there are times that you need to do it, you need to choose those times carefully.  I have seen several people who have gotten their heads blown off, literally and figuratively, by standing on principle."

"But I was intentionally mislead," I point out, standing on principle. "I did make the decision to accept the job based on its merits, but I am still struggling with the way that the recruitment was handled, particularly Laurie's role in it.  I guess I'm feeling hurt that I was misled into thinking things were different than they are between us."

"And how are things between you two?" he asks.

"I don't know," I reply sadly. "We need some time to talk about it."

"Before you do," he says, "I'd like to tell you about a similar lesson that I learned once.  There might be some parallels that could help you sort through your problem with Laurie. This story may help you understand the process for selecting people based on character and why the people who administer the tests do what they do."

I nod to him to show that I am listening.

"I used to be very active in the Boy Scouting program as a teenager," he begins.  Sounds familiar. I'll probably be able to relate to this.  "I attended all sorts of leadership training camps, worked at a scout camp, went to special jamborees, and more.  When our local Council decided to hold a leadership training camp for the younger scouts, the local adult leaders were asked to submit names of highly qualified older scouts to serve on the staff.  After reviewing the list, invitations were extended to twenty-five of us to serve as trainers on the camp staff.  None of us even knew about the camp before we received the invitation to participate.  All of us were extremely qualified and happy that someone thought we were ready for such a job and we were honored to be chosen solely based on the recommendations of those that knew us well.

"A month before the training camp we all took part in a three-day staffing training camp.  Twenty-five young men and four adult leaders were there and it was hard work.  We were put through our paces relative to outdoor skills, taught how to teach and given the script for the actual campout.  Final assignments for positions on the staff were to be announced the morning of the third day.

"At dinner that second night, the scoutmaster for the course announced that, as a reward for our hard work, he was personally springing for an ice cream party that night.  We were pretty thrilled because we felt that we had earned it. It was nice that our work was appreciated.

"We assembled in the mess hall at the camp where our scoutmaster praised our efforts and told us how impressed he was.  Just to make the evening 'fun', he said, he was going to put some rules on the ice cream party.  First of all, we could only take one pass at the ice cream bar.  Second, because he hated wasting his money, we had to eat everything we took before the party was over at 11pm.  He made a big deal out of eating what you take.

"Then he turned us loose.  Each of us was given a large mixing bowl and pointed to four huge tubs of ice cream in popular flavors and toppings of all sorts plus candy of many types.  Added to that were cases of soda pop in many flavors.  It was every teenager's dream.  He constantly reminded us that we would have to eat everything we took so to be wise in our selections.

"Being the greedy teenagers we were, our eyes were bigger than our stomachs. Virtually everyone took more than they could ever eat.  We thought that our scoutmaster was the greatest guy around.

"Once everyone was through the line the adults put away everything that was left over.  Seeing our obvious mistake, the scoutmaster said that he would give five dollars to anyone who could finish their bowl before 11pm.

"The heat was on. At first we all thought that the five dollars was a sure thing.  Within half an hour, all of us had decided that maybe it wasn't such a sure thing.  After the first hour, we all knew that none of us were likely to earn the money.

"When anyone tried to stop the now-evil scoutmaster reminded them that they had agreed to abide by the rules and insisted that they continue.  Most tried.  A few apologized profusely and offered to pay for their treats when they quit, much to the apparent disgust of the scoutmaster. He made everyone who quit feel real bad for not following through. The now-evil scoutmaster had seemed to have turned into someone completely different from the really nice guy we met at the start of the camp. Those that didn't quit at first pushed on, most eventually dropping out before they got sick.  A few were not about to let the scoutmaster win and stupidly and stubbornly pushed on.  Only one earned the five dollars, however, he and two of his best friends spent an hour sitting in the showers puking their guts out and cursing the evil scoutmaster.  What was interesting is that these three were everyone's favorite candidates for the top youth leader positions. They were talented and very accomplished scouts.

"The next day, it was a sorry lot that showed up for breakfast where the staff assignments where announced.  The results were shocking.  The top three leaders were chosen from among the group that had stood up to the scoutmaster when they discovered their mistake."

"What happened to the three top candidates?" I asked.

"They were assigned to run the commissary.  They were not part of the group directly training the boys," he said.

"And where did you end up?" I asked.

"I was assigned to the commissary," he admitted. "I have to tell you, I was pretty upset at being set up, as were my two buddies and many of the other scouts.  One of my buddies dropped out of the camp and I wanted to join him but my parents talked me into seeing it through.  I hated that scoutmaster. I felt that he had been grossly unfair."

"I take it," I observed, "that your opinion changed."

"It did," he said. "One afternoon, during the actual training camp, the two of us worked together on inventory for a couple of hours and we had some time to talk.

"The evil scoutmaster told me why he did what he did.  He was looking for someone he could trust to make good decisions to lead the camp. Someone who knows when they have made a mistake and will find a way to make it right. Someone who knows to seek help when he needs it. Those who had quit early had shown that they were those kind of people. The rest of us let our egos carry us on into an unwise situation. Egotistical bastards, he told me, don't make good leaders. They prove that all the time.

"He pointed out to me that the experience wasn't fun for him either.  He was working with the cream of the crop and he thought highly of all of us.  It was hard, but necessary, to play the role of the hard guy.

"The scoutmaster's dilemma was that if he announced what he was looking for, everyone would have done their best to appear to meet the criteria.  He was also short on time.  He needed a quick way to test our true character without allowing us to try to fool him.  The ice cream party did just that.  Each of us showed our true colors when we thought that we were 'off the clock'.  The scoutmaster was able to see whom he could trust.

"He told me that I could learn from the experience and grow from it, or be like my friend and quit. After that conversation, my scoutmaster was always there to support me when I needed it. He is a great teacher and I have never made the mistake of being arrogant again. I thought a lot about that experience and we have talked about it from time to time over the years. In the end I have come to see that he taught me one of my most valuable life lessons. I look up to the man more than just about anyone else. We have been great friends all these years.  The lesson I learned from him has helped me a lot over the years.

"He took a lot of heat from some parents over his methods, but it worked for me. I'm glad I had the experience.

"I still have the five dollar bill as a reminder of that camp and the lessons that I learned.  It is framed on my office wall as a reminder to not be stupid again," he concluded.

"So," I ask, "what do you want me to learn from this? It isn't exactly like my situation."

"I don't exactly know what your situation is, but you, young lady, were most likely chosen because you are technically qualified to do the job that you were recruited for," he says. "Additionally, it appears that you have proven yourself by some character test to be someone who can be trusted.  If you hadn't passed the character test, you wouldn't be here right now. You should be proud of that accomplishment. The question remains as to whether or not you have what it takes to rise above your dashed expectations, forge new relationships, and find success in fulfilling an important assignment.   The choice is yours. I am interested to see what you do."

The story doesn't exactly fit my situation, but there are some principles there that I really need to think about. I can see the nature of a character test and the need for the deception. But what about me and Laurie? I know that teenage romances don't often work out, but it is nice to think that they might. Is heartache inevitable? Fortunately, we have not gone too far with the relationship or this would hurt even worse. Was she just playing the part all this time? What does she really feel for me? I guess that I will need to find out from her. It appears that we may need to forge a new relationship.

I am committed to the larger project. There is no turning back from that.  I just need to find out how Laurie and I are going to work things out. That part is so confusing right now. I really need some time to think about all this.

I reach up and touch the charm on my necklace and wish that I could go for a long run to sort things out.

The major puts his arm around my shoulder and gives me a squeeze. "In the mean time, Princess, the fish is done," he says with a smile. "Let's go eat."

---< >---

Hey Gabi! Thanks again for your assistance. The story is a lot smoother because of your wonderful touch.

 

Something Feels Strange…

I reach up and touch the charm on my necklace and wish that I could go for a long run to sort things out.

The Major puts his arm around my shoulder and gives me a squeeze. "In the mean time, Princess, the fish is done," he says with a smile. "Let's go eat."

Chapter 11: Settling In

We are not the only guests at the Jeffers' dinner table tonight.

When the Major and I come inside, I see Laurie talking with a slender young girl who has Tom's arm wrapped around her.

I get introduced to Ashley, Tom's girlfriend–I am told that she is a regular at the Jeffers' dinner table. 

"Wow," Ashley exclaims, "You two really do look like sisters!"

I am wondering what the cover story is now. It is hard to keep this all straight. Ashley will surely know that I am not a member of the Jeffers' family.

"We were surprised too when we first met in school last fall," Laurie tells her. "It got even weirder when I found out that Kris's last name was Jeffers. Can you believe that? It was like she is a long-lost cousin or something. We've become best friends and I just had to bring her with me when we came to visit. She couldn't make it up with us yesterday, so she just got in this afternoon."

What a lame story!  I can't believe that Ashley is buying it. Good thing that she is not likely to do a background check on us.

Dinner is quite the feast. In addition to the salmon–which Tom caught yesterday–we have rice, asparagus, a green salad, and a fruit salad.  Everything tastes wonderful.  Which, in itself, is strange.  I hate asparagus! Or I did before today. The salads were also more attractive to me than usual. It would seem that this new body came with new taste buds.

After dinner, everyone pitches in to clean up and it gets pretty crowded in the kitchen. Laurie washes and I dry the dishes while Tom and Ashley put everything away.  The adults clean the grill and table then sweep the floors, leaving us teenagers to finish cleaning the kitchen.  Throughout the work, Laurie and Ashley are getting on like a house on fire.  Ashley tries to draw me into the discussion from time to time, but they were talking faster than I am used to and about subjects that are, as yet, very foreign to me–shopping and clothes. Ashley and Tom are also trying to think of a couple of boys who can take us out for a triple date. Oh joy!

Laurie glances at me from time to time, trying, apparently to read my mood. I'm doing my best to ignore her right now.  I'm not sure that I want to deal with her until I get some time to think about all the things I've heard and analyze the advice that I have been given.  I haven't had much time for pondering in the past twenty-four hours or so. If you haven't noticed, every waking minute has been filled learning my new job.  I wonder if I get overtime pay for this?

After the dinner mess is cleaned up I am dragging.  It is a little after 8pm but it doesn't feel like it. My body says it is way past bedtime at the same time the sun is still high in the sky and won't set for hours yet, setting a mid-afternoon mood. Somehow, it just doesn't seem right for the sun to be that high this late in the day.

"Kris," Laurie gets my attention. "It looks like I should show you our room"–OUR room?–"before you fall asleep on your feet.  We need to get you unpacked too."

Ashley thinks this sounds like fun and invites herself to come help so the three of us troop up the stairs to the guest room.  The Jeffers have one guest room with a queen sized bed where Laurie and I are staying, and they set up a portable bed in the home office for Aunt Jen. Great!  I get to spend the night with my girlfriend–and in the same bed–but as girl friends and Laurie is not into girls. Not what I would have hoped for a couple of days ago, but it seems to be safe enough.

Brain central is having some issues with the concept as well.  While I am now physically 100% female – with the doctor's certificate to prove it – there is still a lot of maleness left in the programming. As happened when I got dressed with Mom this morning, I am still not comfortable with violating the physical and intimate privacy of girls.  I am starting to get used to myself, but other girls are still a major problem.  Laurie and I will need to work out an accommodation for changing clothes. We'll have to do that when Ashley is not around.

As we unpack my suitcases into my half of a chest of drawers and the closet, Ashley does a thorough analysis of my traveling wardrobe. She gets a look at Laurie's also.  She seems to think that the collection should be expanded.  The California girls are, apparently, missing some Alaska essentials.  At this point I am too tired to care so I just let the conversation wash over me. Somewhere in the conversation, I get the impression that Laurie and I agreed to a shopping excursion with Ashley and her girl friends.

We eventually, get things put in their respective locations. I leave out the night shirt that I wore this morning and my face cleaning kit before we go back downstairs to see the rest of the clan.

It looks as if the fun is just getting underway, but everyone understands as I make my excuses for going to bed. 

"Princess," the major says.  It looks like I have a permanent nickname now. "I am going for a short three mile run before going to work. I understand that you are a runner. Would you like to join me?"

"I'd love a run," I reply, "but I'm so tired right now I think that I'll sleep the rest of the week!"

"Well, if you're up by 6am, you are welcome to join me," he offers.

With final good nights to all, I head up to our room.  After visiting the bathroom to make final preparations for the night, I return to the room to change into the night shirt. I also get out my running clothes on the chance that I can get up in time.

I realize that this is the first time that I have been alone with time to myself since I became a girl.  I wish that I wasn't so tired.

Taking off all my clothes, I stand in front of the full length mirror that hangs on the back of the door wearing nothing but my necklace. Brain central is sending out half hearted warnings that I shouldn't be looking at the naked girl.  The programming is pretty muddled, knowing I'm now a girl but still hanging on to some pretty strong male taboos. I ignore the warnings and start to examine the naked girl staring back at me.

Having avoided porn all my life, the closest that I have come to seeing a naked girl are underwear advertisements, scantily clad women on TV, and the bikini clad girls at the pools and beaches. Even living with three females has left me ignorant concerning the very private parts of the female anatomy. I have had a pretty good idea of what a female body looks like from those experiences but to see a real live NAKED girl is a new experience. I really feel as if I am violating the rules again.

The overall shape looks typical of a teen girl.  I have always been attracted to shapely girls. This girl–me–is a little scrawnier than I like, but she is–I am–not bad looking. I also notice that my nipples and areolas are much bigger than I would have thought. The breasts look smaller than they feel.  My blonde bush hides the complexity of my new crotch. Turning side to side, I try to see as much of my body as I can.  The rear end is rounded and sticks out in a sexy way.

I strike a number of poses and find that expressions and body language can communicate a lot of information, but no matter what I do, my male way of thinking thinks that this girl is cute without firmly connecting me with her. 

On a whim, I dig through my drawers and pull out a matching bra and panty set.  They are pink–Marla was having fun again I see. Putting on the garments, I do another examination. The panties are bikini style and the bra is a push up, I think.  I strike a number of poses and come to the conclusion that a little bit of fabric actually adds to the allure of the female form.  It is nice to leave a little to the imagination.

I am tempted to try on a few more items, but my body reminds me that I am still tired.  Somewhat reluctantly, I take off the lingerie and pull on my nightshirt. Examining myself in the mirror again I think that I am starting to understand why girls like to try on clothes. The mirror is becoming my friend.

Light is streaming in through the window as if it is mid-day. There is a heavy blind to pull down and curtains to close over the blind.  Even after they are closed, some light leaks into the room, but now it is dark enough to get some sleep.

Climbing into bed is a different experience.  The nightshirt takes some adjusting to get right.

Lying in bed, I run my hands under the nightshirt and over my new body.  Handling the breasts is interesting, both from the hand's and the breast's perspectives.  Moving my hands down my torso, the skin feels so soft and smooth. I put a hand over my crotch.  It feels so strange for it to be featureless on the surface.  I am not quite ready to dive below the outer folds, though it seems that my new anatomy is calling for the attention.  I am just not mentally prepared to go there yet.  Interruptions are also possible.

Reviewing the day's happenings, my mind is on overload and pleads to shut down.  I oblige.

---< >---

Something shifts in the bed. Slowly coming awake, I take stock of my surroundings and remember where I am. Looking across the bed I see the sleeping form of my... I'm not sure what to call her: deceiver? traitor? girlfriend? girl friend?  I sigh and resolve to have that looming talk with her today.  But not right now.  I need to go think a little.  I also need to use the bathroom.

Remembering the Major's offer for a run, I look over at the luminous numbers on the clock.  It is 6:20am–too late for the run.  I guess that I overslept. Light is filtering in around the blind so the sun is already up.  I really need to get a run in today.

Quietly extracting myself from the bed, I grab the running clothes that I set out last night and sneak out of the room to the bathroom.  After taking care of the necessary business–remembering to wipe the right direction–I get a look in the mirror.  What a mess!  At least I remembered to take off the makeup last night, but my hair is a big mess–morning hair of the worst kind.  I wonder how to avoid this?  It takes several minutes using a brush to tame it enough to put it back in a ponytail.  I decide to try a high ponytail like my sisters and Laurie often wear.  It takes several attempts to make it work, but it is obviously an amateur attempt.  It looks as if I need some more instruction and practice in hair management.

I change into my running clothes and head down stairs to find Mom Polly in the kitchen reading the morning paper with a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, sunshine," she greets me brightly. "Did you sleep well? You missed Bill this morning, but I hope that you got the rest that you needed.  You looked pretty bushed last night."

"It felt really nice to get some sleep," I reply. "I slept pretty deeply and feel much better. I'd feel better with a run.  Do you know where I could get in a short run?"

"You should ask Bill," she says, "when he gets back.  I expected him back by now, but sometimes he runs further when he is feeling good and doesn't have to be on Post too early. He better give you a few tips before you head out.  It is not any safer for a girl to be out alone here than it is any other city. In addition to the normal lot of creeps, we have animal issues.  Last summer we had two bear maulings in the park down the hill. One was a woman out running the trails and the other was a young girl like you who was participating in an all night mountain bike race. They both spent a long time in the hospital and are scarred for life. They're lucky to be alive. We also have moose issues, but nobody has been stomped by one recently. And then there is the problem with loose dogs. It is best to have a running partner, but my He-Man husband thinks he is immune to the dangers."

This is not sounding good! Maybe I better wait but I need my fix soon or I will explode.  I think better when running alone, but I forgot that girls are much more likely to attacked by creeps than are young men.  I never had any problems with the wildlife in California either.

"We didn't get a chance to get to know each other last night," my new mother observes. 

I'm pretty sure that she wants to talk.  Oh well, now is probably better than when everyone is down here.  My only problem is that I am not sure what she knows and what she doesn't.

"Sorry about that," I apologize, "I had a very long day yesterday."

"Don't worry about it, Kris," she assures me, "I understand."

Continuing, she says "Jen's told me a little bit about you.  She says that you're a very talented and mature young woman who has been recruited to help out as an undercover agent with some special project where she works. That sounds exciting, if not a little dangerous. Bill also told me about his chat with you last night. He was surprised that you only found out about the job yesterday.  I'm also surprised, given that Jen asked us to help months ago. Apparently you were the last to know. That must be unsettling. Bill says you have some issues with how you were recruited, but he thinks that you are the kind of person that can handle it. Not only that, but that you seem stronger and more intelligent than your average teenage girl. Bill has a lot of experience evaluating people, so that's a high compliment in my book."

Compliments seem to be the order of the week.  Are they just trying to butter me up? Am I getting a little paranoid?

"About today," she says getting down to business, "we have an appointment for a 10am drivers test at the DMV– Department of Motor Vehicles. You will want to study for the test this morning before we leave. If we can't find a manual around here somewhere, you can always read it on the internet."

"I was given one yesterday," I tell her.

"Good," she says. "The laws shouldn't be too much different from what you have in California, but you do need to review the manual.  We will be using my Subaru wagon for the practical test.  It'll be much easier than using Bill's big truck or Tom's little one. It would be wise to spend some time letting you drive around and practice parallel parking before we get down there.  That won't leave much time this morning."

About this time, the Major comes in from his run, slightly sweaty. "Good morning, Princess," he greets me with a smile after giving his wife a quick kiss. "I hope that you had a good night's sleep."

"Bill," Mom Polly interjects, "Kris was wondering if you could tell her where she could get in a short run this morning, I warned her about the animal hazards."

"Until someone shows you the local trails," he says, "the best thing to do is to stick to the road.  The only problem with living at the top of the road, unfortunately, is that it is all uphill on the way back, so I don't think that would be a good option right now unless you like hills, plus I don't think that you should run alone until you get familiar with the area."

Thinking for a minute, he says, "I have a young soldier in my unit that likes distance running.  I bet that I could get her to run with you this afternoon out on Post instead of doing 'real' work.  I'll check on that and let you know later this morning."

"That won't work dear," Polly says, "Jen told me that Kris will be pretty busy this afternoon. Why don't you take her for a run tonight before dinner?"

"I'll plan on it," he says before giving his wife a quick kiss and heading off for the showers.

About this time, Mrs. Mercer–Aunt Jen–wanders into the kitchen.

After greetings, she fills me in on the schedule.

"After you finish the driver's test," she says, "we'll have an early lunch then you, Laurie and I will go on Post to spend some time with Susan–Mrs. Harrison.  She has some job orientation items and training for the two of you."

Aunt Jen gives me a sharp look and glances down at my legs.  I am sitting like a boy again.  I try looking nonchalant as I bring my knees together.  I suspect that part of my training today will be more practice at acting like a girl.

Continuing, she says, "I suggest that you wear a skirt today for your driver's test. It never hurts to look good when taking a test. It makes for a good impression."

"Not only that," Polly says with a wink, "if the examiner is a man, most of the time a nice skirt will make him feel a bit more lenient.  Kind of like making puppy dog eyes at your father when you want something."

Okay–I've watched my sisters wrap my Dad around their little fingers with the puppy dog look. Heck, Laurie has done it to me more than once. I always knew it was a conspiracy. Ah–one big advantage of being a girl!

The conversation ebbs and flows as we eat a light breakfast.  I have a banana and a bagel with cream cheese.  It is much lighter than usual, but seems filling.

I spend the next hour on the back deck reviewing the driver's manual before I am told that it is time to get ready to go.  The material doesn't look too bad.

When I get back in, I see that Laurie is downstairs and dressed for the day, which I think will make things easier for me.  That is until I get up to the room and try to decided what to wear.  I could use her help, but I am not ready to work with her just yet.

Digging through my stuff, I opt for the tiered skirt and the top which I rejected yesterday.  I think they will go together.  I decide to use the bra and panty set that I modeled last night and a half slip.  I don't think that any of my three pair of shoes goes well with this outfit.  I am sure that it will look out of place, but I choose some low socks that don't even come to the ankle and my running shoes.  Forget the pantyhose for now.

After laying out the items, I grab my makeup bag and hair dryer and head for the shower.

The water feels pretty good. I don't have a lot of time again today, but I savor the feel of the soapy wash cloth gliding across my smooth skin.  I spend some time running my hands over the unfamiliar curves. Washing my hair proves to be the most difficult part of the deal.  I've never had to deal with so much hair before.  After shampooing and conditioning is done, I spend a few minutes just relishing the feel of the warm water sliding over my smooth body.  It is delicious.

Combing and brushing my hair is easier when it is wet.  I try to follow Sam's instructions with the hair dryer and brush, but it will take more practice to achieve the same results that she did. I am thinking that I'd like to experiment with different looks when I get the time.  There are so many more options than I had previously, when I was a boy.  I try a few but can't seem to get anything to look right, so I leave it hanging loose for now.  I'd ask Laurie to help, but, as I said, we need to resolve an issue or two first.

I forgot to find a robe and I can't run down the hall naked to my room. Wrapping the towel around me and gathering up my clothes and supplies, I crack the door open and look both ways.  The coast is clear.

I scurry across the hall and into our room, quickly closing the door behind me.  I turn around to find Laurie sitting on the bed looking up from my clothing selection.  This is not good.  I am not ready to deal with her right now.

"What are you doing here?" I ask icily.

"I thought you might need some help," she cautiously replies. "Plus, this is my room too."

"In case you don't know," I inform her testily, "you are not on my list of favorite people and we don't have time to deal with it right now. You know, I'd feel a lot better if you let me dress in peace right now."

"Kris," she says, "look, I am really sorry about how things turned out. Really I am. I hope we can talk about it real soon.  They have to let up on you sooner or later, but may I make a suggestion?"

"Sure," I warily reply.

"You might like to try this blouse and I think my sandals will fit you and look better than the running shoes," she suggests holding up the blouse and pointing to the shoes that she has set out.

I guess that she is trying to be helpful.  But I still think that it would be better if she left.

"Fine," I say shortly. "But can you please leave me to dress in peace?"

She looks sad.  Almost like she is going to cry.  I have always hated it when she does that.  It has been hard for me remain cold when she does that. Even though I am now a girl, my thought patterns are still heavily male and these little girl sympathy tricks still work on me. Be strong, I remind myself, get her to leave.  Remember how she deceived you.  I don't even know what her feelings are about us.

"Please?" I beg.  Where did my cold resolve go? Probably the same place that it always goes when she does this to me.  At least I am sticking to my guns here–sort of.

She looks at me with moist puppy eyes as she exits the room.  I hate that trick. I guess that I should try it now that I have a girl's body.

Once she is gone, I get down to business and have my clothes on in a heartbeat–or two–or three.  Well at least I don't waste any time in the process.  The bra thing is still unsettling and the buttons on the blouse are still a problem. My hair needs some work too, but at least the clothes are on.

During that first shopping experience I never really had time to digest the sensations caused by the skirt. Now I do. This one is loose and billows around me.  It feels strange. It also feels somehow exciting? I don't think that 'exciting' is the right word but the sensation of the slip and skirt caressing and swirling around my smooth legs is nice. Very nice. I am not quite sure how to relate to the openness under the skirt though.  It seems as if I am much freer under there, but almost like I am running around in just my underpants.

Speaking of underpants, the panties seem much more silky and smooth than any male underwear that I have ever worn.  The lightly snug feeling is nice on this anatomy.  I really notice the lack of extra equipment between my legs.  The only problem with the bikini panties is that, with their low rise, they feel almost as if they will either fall off or aren't quite all the way on.

I smooth the skirt over my butt.  It feels very nice, both to my hands and my posterior.

Noticing the time, I pull myself away from my exploration, grab my purse and head down stairs. I find that walking in a skirt feels different than walking in pants. A nice different.

By now Tom is up and preparing for the day.  He works as a lifeguard at a local pool and doesn't have to be at work until near mid-day.  He is not an early riser.

When I walk into the kitchen, where everyone is gathered, Tom looks up. "Wow!" he says.

The women, on the other hand, look at me disapprovingly.  Aunt Jen speaks up. "Laurie, will you take Kris back up stairs and see if you can help her finish getting ready to go?"

What did I miss? Maybe some makeup?

I follow Laurie up stairs where she sits me down on the bed.  We are all business now.

"Look Kris," she begins, "I know you're are not happy with me right now,"–an understatement I think–"but we need to at least work together until we can work things out.  Can you let me help you? You can't go out looking like that."

"Looking like what?" I ask suspiciously.

"Looking like a wild woman from the caveman days," she states. "Your hair is a mess and you don't have any makeup on.  Even in Alaska, women are more civilized than that."

Looking in the mirror, I can sort of see what she is saying about the hair. It could be neater. As far as the makeup goes, the girl in the mirror does look a bit less enticing than she did when Sam got through with her, so maybe some makeup would be good.  I just don't feel comfortable with doing it right now.  I need more practice time with both the hair and the makeup before I can do it myself with any kind of proficiency.

"I did the best that I could with the hair," I tell her, "and I need more practice with the makeup before I do it for real."

"Time is running short," she points out, "so I'll do it for you this time, if you will let me." It seems we are always short on time.

I nod affirmatively and she goes to work.  In just a few minutes, she has the hair under control.  The makeup takes a touch longer. She finishes me off with a hint of perfume.

She has me find and wear my running necklace. She says that a girl must have some jewelry on.

Before heading downstairs, Laurie instructs me in the proper way to sit down while wearing a skirt.  She has me practice the maneuver a dozen times on a chair in the room.

Back downstairs, the older women nod approvingly and we head for the door.

Laurie and her mother take off to explore the area a little, while Mom Polly and I go to a nearby high school parking lot where I practice driving and parking her Subaru.  I find driving in a skirt unsettling.  It feels, well, strange.  The whole skirt thing is a totally different experience.  It feels cool too.  Just a little harder to manage, but I find that I am more likely to keep my knees together under the skirt.  I also discover that I have to sit up straighter.  When I try leaning back, the low fiction between my slick panties and nylon slip causes me to slide on the seat.  Who would have thought that would be a problem?

The driving test went well.  I only missed two questions on the written test and got dinged once for improperly changing lanes on the practical examination. Had they been taking away points for unlady-like entry and exit of the car, I might have lost some more. The examiner was a woman, so I don't think that the skirt did me much good in the influence department, though I noticed that I seemed to get a better reception than another girl who was wearing holey jeans and a worn T-shirt with an obnoxious image on it. There is something to be said for looking your best when you are trying to influence someone into giving you what you want.

When it was all over I walked away with an Alaska driver's license in the name of Kristina Marie Jeffers.  The picture isn't all that bad either. Better than my California one. I stick it in my new wallet by my military ID.

While I was out on the roads with the examiner, the Major called Mom Polly to suggest that I bring my running gear out to the Post with me when I meet with Mrs. Harrison so that we can run on Post before coming home for dinner.  So we make a quick trip back to the house to gather the essentials and stick them in my backpack before meeting with Aunt Jen and Laurie for lunch at a popular restaurant downtown.

During lunch, I am quiet and try to avoid interacting with Laurie.  I don't want to get too involved with her until we can work things out and I don't want to try to work things out until I get some meditation time.  Aunt Jen, I can tell, is not happy with me over my frosty behavior. Mom Polly is just confused. The whole lunch experience was tense.

For the rest of the afternoon, I am to be in the care of my loving aunt and cousin, so Mom Polly goes to do whatever it is that she planned for the day while the three of us head out to the Post.

Since the rental car doesn't have a pass, we stop at the main gate visitors station and pick one up for the week.  We also get directions to the location of our training facility which turns out to be a large, two story, log cabin overlooking a small lake in a far corner of the post. A car is already here. It is a very quiet and peaceful setting, that is until a machine gun goes off over the hill.  There must be a range nearby!

Following earlier instructions, I have brought my computer bag with me so I carry that, my purse and my backpack full of running gear into the lodge. Laurie offers to help, but I just icily stare at her and take care of it myself.

Mrs. Harrison brightly greets us.  She is in a happy mood this afternoon until she notices my frosty demeanor.

"Is something wrong, Kris?" she asks.

Okay... I wasn't going to melt down, but I can't stop it.

"Is something wrong? Is something WRONG?" I repeat with mild hysteria, "Yes, something IS wrong. I can deal with the covert background check, the character testing, and the sudden job offer. Heck, I can even deal with the sex change–as long as it's just a temporary disguise. But I'm having some issues with Laurie right now, and no one, and I mean NO ONE, has given me any TIME to deal with it.  There has been no time for me to go running to get my head straight. There has been no time to talk to Laurie to find out what is going on with our relationship.  If I have to work with her, I NEED some TIME to deal with this! And I need it NOW."

My eyes start to water and I feel like crying. My lower lip is quivering.  I have never felt like this before!

The three women just stare at me for a few moments with surprised expressions.

"I see you have a problem," Mrs. Harrison breaks the silence.

"You think?" I reply sarcastically.

---< >---

Gabi does it again!  Thanks for cleaning this up.

 

Something Feels Strange…

The three women just stare at me for a few moments with surprised expressions.

"I see you have a problem," Mrs. Harrison breaks the silence.

"You think?" I reply sarcastically.

Chapter 12: Clearing the Air

Did you know that running in a billowing skirt is challenging?  I didn't until just now.  That cool-feeling piece of feminine attire is a royal pain in the ass when you want to run.  I don't get far.

After my little outburst, I turned on my heel and made a quick exit from the cabin with tears streaming down my face. I crossed the expansive lawn to the lake edge, looking for a trail that would take me out of sight of the lodge.  The combination of the skirt and Laurie's sandals put an end to an extended flight. In total frustration, I just sit down on the lawn.

I discovered another problem with a skirt.  As I plopped myself down, it billowed out and I ended up sitting my pantied butt directly on the coarse crab grass. To put it mildly it is not at all comfortable.  I think that I have a thorn of some kind in my panties.

To add insult to injury, a swarm of mosquitoes decides that it is lunch time and that I am the main course on the menu. If you have never seen Alaskan mosquitoes, then you have never seen a real mosquito before.  These things look like small birds. Really. I swear, the perfume that Laurie put on me this morning must attract them.

So here I sit. In a very unlady-like fashion, in a skirt, course grass poking me in the butt, mosquitoes eating me alive, and a world of people conspiring against me. My new boss, my ex-girlfriend and her mother, my family–just about everybody. And all I can do is cry. Oh, and don't forget about the four camouflage wearing soldiers carrying automatic weapons and big packs that just popped out of the woods. Great.

Just when I thought I had a grip on things, it seems as if someone has come along and turned my world upside down. Until now, I have been feeling pretty good about how I was handling all this, so how did it get out of control so fast?

One of the soldiers sees my predicament with the insects and offers me some spray-on mosquito repellant. Without looking at his face, I just take the can and angrily start spraying all over myself, including up my skirt. I discover that bug dope stings the eyes and tastes horrible. I start to gag and spit–much to the amusement of the soldiers.

I glare at them. "What's your problem," I demand.

They all back up a step and look at each other with that 'what's wrong with this chick' expression.

The guy who loaned me the spray says, "You're not from around here, I can tell, or you wouldn't have sprayed that in your face. Most folks around here spray some on their hand then rub it on their face.  That way you don't eat it or get it in your eyes.

"Look Miss, it is apparent that you are having a bad day here and none of us are counselors. We'll just mosey on and let you sort it out, okay?" he says cautiously.

My tears have stopped but I am feeling pretty foolish. I am sure that my makeup is a mess. "Sure. Ah... thanks for the bug dope." I tell them sheepishly, handing it back to the soldier.

"Hey, Chica, it can only get better from here," another soldier tosses my way as they disappear back into the forest.

I am still sitting on the ground with grass poking my panties, but I ponder that last comment.  Somehow it sounds like the best thought that has come my way all day.  Strange, but that comment is what allows me to pull myself together.  It can't get much worse.

I still wish that I could go for a run, but figure now is as good of time as any to do my heavy thinking. I can't do this sitting down, so I get up and find an informal path around the edge of the lake, obviously made by fisherman. The path is pretty rugged and overgrown, but I can negotiate it, after a fashion, wearing a skirt.

I still have grass in my panties so I duck behind a bush looking carefully around before I drop my skirt and slip to brush the grass off my butt.  Somewhere not too far away someone lets loose with a 'wolf' whistle which is followed by a slap and a grunt–So much for privacy! At this point, I don't care.  At least not too much.

Picking my way around the lake, I start to think.

So, I ask myself, what exactly is the problem?

Let's start easy and work to the hard part.

First off, a group of people has been spying on me all winter. So what is wrong with that?  It is not like I was doing anything wrong. Yeah, but isn't that invasion of privacy? Maybe in a way, but I've done it myself.  What guy hasn't checked out a girl for like forever before getting the nerve to talk to her or ask her out? I remember checking out Allison McIntyre in 7th grade.  I figured out where she lived, who she hung out with, what her favorite soda pop was, what her favorite TV show was and more long before I had the guts even talk to her at school. I suppose that some folks would call that stalking, but everyone does it.  As near as I can tell, girls do it more than boys when they have the hots for someone. The object of their desire is often the last to know.  In a way, the Lab's interest in me is similar; it is just that their methods are much more sophisticated. They were just checking out a potential relationship. Okay, I won't worry about this issue again. I can understand what they did and I can live with it.

Dang this skirt! It seems to get hung up on every piece of foliage in the forest! The sandals aren't much good on this path either. My legs are getting scratched up by the brush.

A more difficult problem is that they turned me into a girl without my consent.  What is so bad about that?  First of all, while I never wanted to be a girl, it doesn't seem so bad once you're there.  Heck half the world deals with it.  It's just a different perspective, right?  Also, importantly, the condition, in my case, is only temporary. In a way, it is a kind of adventure.  No, the real problem is not that they turned me into a girl, but that they did it without asking for my consent.  That is a real problem.

I am pretty sure that the head of the security team should be called on the carpet for jumping the gun.  Somebody should at least give the decision maker a piece of her mind.  I'd gladly volunteer for the job.

As much as I hate to admit it, though, that first night in the store really served two useful purposes.  For the security team, it was a great test of my character–which I passed. Evidently they felt better about the second unauthorized transformation after analyzing my response to the first one. For me, I got a small, though confused, taste at what was to come and had a week for my subconscious mind to work on it–with a little help from my family and friends.  The experience awakened a curiosity in me that I had never had before.

So besides the principle of the thing, there was no harm done. As we say in pickup basketball: no harm, no foul. I guess I can let this issue go too, but I still want word to get back to the team that they must watch their step.

Okay, so now we are left with the really big problem–Laurie.

By now I am about half way around the small lake–actually you could call in a big pond.  I stoop to pick up a handful of small stones, then sit down on a fallen log by the lake, taking care to smooth my skirt under me this time.  While I continue my pondering, I toss the stones, one by one, into the lake.

Laurie. 

The dilemma.

Does she love me or does she love me not?  I feel like I should be plucking at a daisy.

Let's look at the facts.

First off, she only noticed me because she was assigned to observe me. Am I that featureless as a guy that a girl has to be assigned to me to notice me?  I've never had much luck getting noticed by girls. Not even my sisters. That is a deflating thought. I guess the guys on the cross country running team are not exactly babe magnets. I have never understood why the prettiest girls go after Neanderthals, but they do. A stray thought crosses my mind, that maybe I can find out why they do, now that I'm masquerading as a girl. That could be useful information.

Now, just because she was assigned to check me out doesn't necessarily mean that her feelings for me are fake. She is a pretty good actress if they are. But would she put herself on a shelf for a year just for an assignment?  Maybe, if the pay was good enough. I just don't know. There is only one person who really knows for sure. I look across the lake at the cabin and wonder what she is thinking.

Now, it is true that we have kept our relationship pretty low key physically. Is this because she can only act so well and is repulsed about taking it further? That is possible, but actually, it was I who proposed keeping it that way. I like to keep things under control so as not to complicate life. Does that decision just make her job easier, or is she genuinely just a good girl that wants to stay that way? Again, there is only one person to ask and she is sitting in the cabin across the lake.

Where can we go from here? Obviously we can't play boyfriend/girlfriend this summer. Even if she was into girls, a lesbian relationship would have the same emotional baggage as the heterosexual one we have been putting off until we are ready to handle it. I don't think that either one of us is ready for that yet. That means, at best, we can be best friends this summer. Best girl friends doesn't seem like the right term either. I'm a guy with a girl's body as a disguise, after all. I guess that means that we are just best friends, leaving gender out of it.

I run out of stones, so I continue picking my way around the lake.

I am pretty sure that Laurie at least likes me as a friend. I have dreaded the day when she will suggest that we be 'just friends'–the kiss of death for any romantic relationship. My Dad has told me that it is more than likely that I will hear that phrase more than once before I find the girl that wants to spend the rest of her life with me as much as I want to spend the rest of mine with her. In fact, I am likely to use it on a girl or two myself.  It is best not to rush into situations which you will later regret.  Sex being one of those situations. He tells me that, contrary to what Hollywood would have us believe, sex is an emotional hand grenade best used within a well developed relationship. So far I have believed him. So chances are, Laurie is not THE ONE, but I would certainly like to end up with a girl like her when I am old enough to settle down. Dad tells me that I have lots of time and I should date a few more girls before making a decision about whom to settle down with.  There are other things to worry about first–such as my education. This all sounds reasonable, but I am hoping right now that Laurie is the one.

Okay, so I am wandering a bit, both physically and mentally.

So what is the bottom line?

First, if she loves me then we can work through this summer as friends and learn more about each other in ways that we never dreamed of.  This could be a great relationship builder as long as we both know that my 'condition' is temporary.

Second, if she loves me not but at least thinks I'm a nice guy then we can work at being co-workers and maybe get to the point where we are just friends. I will end up with a heartache, but that would happen anyway. It would be better to end our relationship as friends than enemies. I am sure that a break up won't be fatal. It will just hurt a lot.

If it turns out that she has been leading me on only out of a sense of duty then, we'll just work at being colleagues. I haven't always liked co-workers in the past when assigned to groups for school and scouting projects, but we were able to get the job done. It would be tough but we could do it.

So–those are all the options I can come up with.

By now I have completed my circuit of the small lake.  Looking up at the cabin, I see the ladies standing by the picture window watching me.  I give them a little wave and get three hesitant waves back.  I beckon to Laurie to come join me.  It is time for our talk.

Laurie is more sensibly dressed than I am–she's wearing jeans and a nice T-shirt. Wise girl.

Soon she is attacked by the same insects that came after me.  Looking into the forest I shout, "Is there anybody out there that can spare some bug dope?"

A can comes flying out of the woods. Those guys hide pretty well. "Keep it, Chica," comes a voice from the forest.

"Thanks, guys," I called out in reply.

After dousing Laurie with Alaskan perfume, we sit together on the grass by the lake. I make sure to smooth my skirt under my tush this time.

After a couple minutes of quiet contemplation, Laurie tentatively asks, "Kris? Are you going to be okay? Do you hate me?"

Thinking for a couple of seconds, I reply, "Oh, I'm sure I'll be okay.  I don't know whether or not to hate you yet.

"Laurie?", I struggle to ask the big question, "has it been a sham? Have you been pretending to like me all this time?"

She is quiet for a minute before she starts. "Kris, I know you don't trust me right now, but I hope that you try to understand what I am about to tell you. I promise that I will tell you the truth."

Oh no–this sounds ominous.

After taking a deep breath she begins; "Last summer, Mom asked me to help her with a project at work.  She said that they were recruiting someone for a special job at the Lab and this person needed to meet a set of stringent criteria.  They had already identified four likely candidates. I was acquainted with two of them, but you and one other I did not know at all. I was given questionnaires to fill out on each one you.  I was able to answer most of the questions for the two that I knew, but had to find a way to get to know the other two of you before I could answer any of the questions about you.

"It was suggested that I take the math course because both of you were in that class.  The electronics course was suggested since you were enrolled in it and you were already a leading candidate for the job. I suspect that your lead was a result of high your grades and scouting experience. The electronics class looked like a good way for us to meet. I was qualified to take both courses, but they were not on my schedule. I am, as you know, more interested in history and political science than technical subjects. Anyway, I decided to take the classes. They would look good on my transcripts if nothing else.

"I must admit it was exciting to play the secret agent. I also admit that I used my feminine wiles on you that first month to get you to 'help' me with my math and electronics. The 'maiden-in-distress' move is particularly effective on you," she said with a sad smile.

Ouch!  That hurts!  I was suckered!

"Anyway, after a couple of weeks I was able to complete the first questionnaires and sent them in.  I didn't hear back from Mom's team for a couple of weeks, so I was thinking my job was done," she continued.

"After submitting the first questionnaires, I found that I was indeed a maiden-in-distress. I didn't particularly like either the math or electronics courses and was struggling. Your help was greatly appreciated. I'm not sure when it happened, but sometime in there as you were helping me, I really started to like you. You are a genuinely nice guy."

Nice guy!? Another bad sign. The term 'nice guy' is right up there with 'let's be friends'. I am starting to get depressed.

"You'd be surprised how hard it is for a girl to find a guy that she can trust.  Someone who is not just trying to get into her panties all the time," she says. "You are different. You are the kind of guy that a girl can take home to meet her parents. You also treated me like an equal and with respect. No guy had ever done that to me before. I knew that you were interested in me, but I have been suspicious of male intentions since Pam's troubles, so I was careful to keep things platonic and was happy to learn that you wanted the same."

Pam is one of Laurie's best friends and is a single mother at the age of seventeen.  The story, as I understand it, is that she was dating some Neanderthal and he convinced her that he was truly in love with her. One afternoon when they were alone at her house after school, she finally relented to his pressure and had sex with him. By sundown, the Neanderthal, had spread the word about his conquest.  The next day at school was a living hell for Pam. She was branded as a slut and all the sleaziest guys were trying to get their piece of her.  It wasn't too long after that that she found out that she was pregnant and she had to let her family know.  It wasn't fun, but fortunately her parents were there for her and helped her through the crisis.  The caveman refused to take responsibility for anything so it took court action to get him to help pay for the baby once she decided to keep it.  Pam is now struggling with taking care of a baby boy and trying to get through high school.  She has few friends and no social life.  This is not what she dreamed of for herself at this point in her life.  It is a sad, but is an all too common tale.

We know others of our peer group that are engaged in sexual activities, but they all seem to be carrying around a lot of emotional baggage with them. Particularly the girls.  It is our observation of these problems that has kept us from the next level in our relationship.

Laurie continues, "I never told you this, and it must not go any further, but after that first day back at school, Pam tried to commit suicide because she felt so bad.  Her mother found her passed out on the floor of the bathroom with an empty bottle of pills beside her.  They were lucky to get her to the hospital in time.  I spent the weekend at the hospital crying with her.  She told me more about the actual experience with the caveman.  He had been pressuring her for weeks to have sex.  He told her that if she loved him as much as he loved her that it was the right thing to do. She eventually fell for the argument. When they were making out at her house after school one day, she finally let him feel her up.  One thing led to another and it took only minutes for him to heat up; before she knew it, he was practically tearing the clothes off her.  She tried to get him to slow down, but all he could think of was to get his thing poked inside her pussy. He was rough and came fast. It was a painful experience for her and he didn't seem to care. All he could say after he was done was that he couldn't wait to try it again.  He had no regard for her feelings. He didn't even stick around, he just got dressed and left with a big smile on his stupid face.  She felt violated and used.  It wasn't at all like she expected. She locked herself in her room and cried her eyes out that night. Then, the next day when the whole school seemed to know what happened, she really fell apart. The caveman had the nerve to ask her if she was up for another round after school.  It was obvious that the jerk didn't care about her, just about satisfying his own animal lust.

"Anyway, after that weekend with Pam, I decided that my first time would be different. Some of the girls I know who are sexually active tell me that I'm a dreamer and a hopeless romantic. Sex is just sex but I don't see it that way.  I want it to be something special. It's been my observation that sex without friendship and true emotional bonding seems to destroy relationships instead of building them.

"What's great about you, is that you seem to understand that. Oh, I can feel you get aroused when we are kissing–I get aroused too–but you keep it under control.  You respect my feelings.

"As I got to know you more, I came to trust you and like you a whole lot. Is it love? I hope that true love is something like what I feel for you, but we are still young.  As we are constantly reminded, it is likely that our hormones have more control than reason at this point in our lives.  I figure that there's lots of life left to live and I have some big goals. I don't want to do anything to complicate or compromise the future, so I want us to take our time and just enjoy the ride. If it works out for us, I'll be very happy, but if not, hopefully we will each find something even better and still cherish the time that we've had together. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"What I think you are saying," I say softly, "is that you connected with me because you were told to, but found that you liked what you found.  However, we are just good friends at this point."

"Well," she says sheepishly, "maybe a little more than just good friends. And I don't want to lose that, though I think that we might after what has happened to you if you can't forgive me.  Let me finish the story. There are a few more things that I feel bad about that you need to know."

The heartache is growing, but at least she is not saying that she maintained the loving facade when she actually didn't like me.  That seems like a small victory.

"After the first month or so, you and one other person were the only ones still in the running for the Lab job.  The other person is a real girl and I better not tell you who she is. I was game to have an excuse to move forward with getting closer to you at that point since I had come to realize what a rare find you are. Over the winter I filled out a number of other questionnaires on the two of you and, as I did so, I was starting to feel like a traitor to you as my feelings for you grew.  I was assured that the information was going to be used for a good purpose and I was actually helping you to attain a great honor. The past few months, most of the questions have been about you instead of the other person, so I figured that you were becoming the favored candidate for whatever was up. I began again to worry more about what was happening and was again reassured that something good was going to happen.

"Well, imagine my surprise that Friday morning a week and a half ago, when Mom took me to work with her.  Something urgent was going on.  A panel of people quizzed me on every aspect of your personality and character.  They wanted to know the details of our relationship and didn't believe me at first when I said that it was not sexual.  This went on for over an hour, then I was left to wait in my mother's office for several more hours with strict instructions not to contact anyone.  I had to ignore your messages.

"By early afternoon some decision had been reached and it was decided to include me in the process.  I went before the panel again and was asked if I was willing to help with a project that involved national security and could possibly save the lives of many people.  What could I say?  Who wouldn't like to be a part of such a thing? So I said yes. That is when they told me of the plan to transform you into a girl to work at the lab on a secret assignment for the summer.  It sounded so unbelievable, but it didn't take a rocket scientist figure out if they could do that, that this was an undercover assignment of some sort. I argued with them, that if they had to transform you, at least they could make you a different male.  They said that that that wouldn't work but wouldn't share with me the reasons.  I suspect that it is because a girl might find it easier to work into the confidence of whoever the bad guys are.

"They did tell me that they had planned to do the transformation a week later when school got out, but that circumstances had caused them to move up the schedule and they didn't have time to ease you into the role. They also said that there was still a chance that they could go back to the old schedule, but that we had to move that night to do the initial work in case they couldn't. They wanted me to help by outfitting you with a basic wardrobe.  They felt that having someone around that you trusted would help you with the transition. I was told that I couldn't tell you what was going on since there also was a chance that they might pull the plug on the whole assignment and they didn't want you to know what was happening if they did.  They were aware that the outfitting would be a temporary transformation and could be made to appear to be a dream.

"I agreed to help for a number of reasons.  First, I wanted to be there to help you.  I knew that this was going to be hard for you and I knew that you would need a friend. It was going to happen even if I didn't help.  Next, as I thought about it, I figured that we could turn this into a test to see if we liked each other for who we are and not just for our genders.  I figure that if we can still be friends after taking sex out of the equation, then there is hope for greater things for us.  Sorry, Kris, I know that I am being selfish here, but I want us to be the best of friends for who we are, not for what we can do to each other.

"If it is any consolation, I did try to convince them to let you know beforehand what was to happen, but somebody on the committee was really against the idea. I told them that they could trust you to be discrete but nobody listened to me. Sorry.

"I felt that the best thing that I could do for you was to be there to help you with the change as best I could.  I doubt that you would have liked to work with some cold analytical bitch who is more interested in the mission than you. I was willing to take the risk that you'd hate me so that I could help you. The same can be said for our mothers and Marla.  Does that make any sense?"

I nod affirmatively as I ponder on this wild story.  It is not much wilder than anything else that I've experienced lately and it fits with what I've been told.

When I don't immediately answer she asks, "Can we still be friends?"

Can we still be friends?  That is the big question.  I look into her pleading eyes looking for any sign of deception.  I don't see any.  I see a girl who has just cleansed her soul. The tears are there to prove it and her makeup is a mess.

So, it looks like condition number one from my private ponderings is the correct answer.   That means that we can at least try to be friends.  As much as I would love to hate her right now, friendship feels like a much better option.

I still feel bad that her initial 'interest' in me was motivated by the assignment, but at least I am sure now that her current affection for me is genuine.

"I think so," I reply, "but it'll take some time for me to trust you fully again. I like you a lot and I was hoping that you really liked me too. I've been having my doubts about that."

"Kris," she says with hope in her voice, "I do like you–a lot. I would prefer to have you as a male friend, but I like that we are going to be able to spend the summer together after all. It will be a unique summer. I'll just miss the making out!"

"Me too," I say sadly as we share a sisterly hug.

Laurie's tears have changed to tears of relief.  I find myself crying too, for the identical reason.

---< >---

Thanks go to Gabi for her patient efforts in trying to teach me English! This story reads so much better for her efforts.

 

Something Feels Strange…

"Kris," she says with hope in her voice, "I do like you–a lot. I would prefer to have you as a male friend, but I like that we are going to be able to spend the summer together after all. It will be a unique summer. I'll just miss the making out!"

"Me too," I say sadly as we share a sisterly hug.

Laurie's tears have changed to tears of relief.  I find myself crying too, for the identical reason.

Chapter 13: On the Road Again–Finally

"Your makeup's a mess," I observe with a smile after we break our embrace.

"Yours too," she laughs. "You really need to fix it. I never thought I'd have to say that to my boyfriend!"

I never expected to hear it either, at least applied to me. 

Moving on to my next great concern, I realize that I am not doing a very good job of acting like a girl. It's only been a day and a half since the transformation and there is the fact that I have been kept so busy on other things in that time.

"Laurie," I ask, "can you help me figure out this girl stuff? I'm supposed to act as if I've always been a girl around the Jeffers and I'm not doing very good at it. I don't want to stand out as a freak."

"Teaching you is part of my job," she says brightly.

"I'd rather you do it because you're my friend," I say sadly. I thought that we had just established that I am not just a work project anymore.

"I didn't mean it that way, Kris. I was just trying to lighten the mood. I took the job of helping you BECAUSE I'm your friend. I WANT to help you," she says giving me a reassuring hug. "There's not much we can do about our makeup down here. Shall we go up to the cabin and get away from these mosquitoes?" The pesky insects have been circling us just outside the short range of the repellant.

As we get up to head back inside, I call into the woods, "Thanks fellas!"

A unquestionably female voice calls back, "We're not all 'fellas', but you're welcome anyway."

"Oops... Sorry!" I call back in apology.

Back at the cabin, the two older women are waiting for us.  There is an awkward silence in the room until I decide to break it.

"Thanks for giving me the time to think," I say gratefully. "I really needed that. I feel much better now so what's next?"

"That's okay, darling," Aunt Jen replies. "We're sorry for pushing you so hard. You've let us know that we should slow down some and we are trying to listen. Really we are. It's just that there is so much to do and so little time." She gives me a reassuring hug.

By now it is mid-afternoon and–it turns out–I really messed up the schedule, but nobody seems to want to talk about that. It appears they are handling me with kid gloves now.

Laurie makes a suggestion. "Mom, Mrs. Harrison? Can we skip the technical briefing and focus on helping Kris learn a few basic girl skills?  She could really use it before she makes too many more mistakes in front of the Jeffers."

This proposal is greeted with a questioning look between the two older women. Mrs. Harrison just shrugs her shoulders and says, "I was planning on catching an early flight home in the morning. I guess we don't have enough time for me to finish my training today anyway, so it looks like I'll have to delay my return a day. What do you think, Jennifer?"

"It will take a rearrangement of the schedule," says Aunt Jen, "but I think it's a good idea."

With everyone on the same page, we start with makeup lessons. Both of us need to fix our faces anyway. None of us have the full kit with us, but between the four purses, we put together enough makeup so that I can practice.

I soon discover there are different opinions about makeup styles.  Each of the three women do it in a slightly different way and there are varying opinions about what is appropriate for various conditions. Apparently, every woman develops her own style as she gains experience.  The style is influenced by age and current trends.  I am assured that I'll develop my own style fairly soon.

To make a long story not quite so long, the general consensus is to keep it pretty simple.  They have me practice with foundation, blush, eye shadow, eye liner, mascara, and lipstick.  I have to apply and remove it all multiple times before it is acceptable to the quality control team.  They try to explain to me the theory behind colors and the different products. They also teach me about the major brands.

When they see my increasingly befuddled look, they decide to just focus on a small subset of the available products and colors.  The general idea being that it's better to be a modest expert in a few things instead of totally clueless about everything.  Thank you!

A short burst of automatic weapons fire nearby reminds us that we are on an active military post. Looking out the window, we don't see anything so the action must be happening in a nearby training area.

Next we spend time on my hair; they have me brush it, then arrange it in different ways.  Again, they keep it 'simple' by focusing on only a few basic styles.  I'm assured that there is much more that I can do with it later and I should observe how other girls are wearing their hair for ideas. The magazine research will help.

I  put my hair up into a high pony tail at least a dozen times until they were satisfied that I can do it with the ease of a reasonably competent young girl.  We also experiment making some simple styles using barrettes.  I do each of these several times before I can do a passable job.

Around 4:30pm Aunt Jen receives a call on her cell phone from the Major requesting that they bring me to the field house a little after 5pm for our run.

As we get ready to go I ask, "Shouldn't I change before we go?"

"No, I don't think so," Mrs. Harrison replies. "They have a pretty nice locker room at the field house. I used it this morning when I went for my run."

Brain central comes screaming out of nowhere–just when I was thinking it had gone to sleep. THE GIRLS' LOCKER ROOM? "There is no way that you can go in there," it tells me. "The girls' locker room is definitely off limits to boys. There will be WAY too many naked females in there!"

Alright, I've been in a girls' public restroom. I've examined my female self naked. I've even seen my natural mother stark naked–I still feel awkward about that–so, you ask, what is the deal with the girls' locker room?

Here I am, not even forty-eight hours of girl time under my belt and influenced by sixteen years of male training. Even with the week that brain central has had to ease into the idea of becoming female, a room full of naked women has just not been figured into the programming. My dang morals are kicking into gear again.

Mom had warned me that this would happen, but so soon? Give a guy–girl?–a break!

"Ah...," I stammer, "I don't think that I can do that."

"Why not," Laurie grins, "isn't it every boy's dream to peek into the girl's locker room? Besides, the women there don't have anything that you don't have."

"They've just had it a lot longer than forty-eight hours," I point out nervously. "I think I'll freeze up if I go into a women's locker room by myself. Besides, I don't know how girls conduct themselves in there. I've no idea what standard practice is."

"I don't suspect that it is much different than in the boys’ locker room," Laurie says, "but I wouldn't know. How about having Mrs. Harrison go in with you and show you around? She knows the layout and then you wouldn't be on your own."

"I'm here to help you," Mrs. Harrison said. "I think that I'd like to try their pool anyway."

"Ah... thanks," I say, "but I am still nervous about being around all those naked women."

"I don't think that it will be as bad as you think," Laurie points out, "as it is the end of the day and before the evening workout crowd shows up. There shouldn't be that many women there. Besides, I think they'd be more nervous than you if they knew about your past."

That last comment doesn't help. I have visions of being beaten to a pulp by a thousand angry naked or nearly naked women.

"Relax," Aunt Jen says quickly when she sees the panic in my eyes. "Laurie is probably right about the low turnout. There is no way that anyone will suspect that you were once a male.  You are physically 100% female now. You'd have a lot more problems on your hands if you decided to use the men's locker room. Besides, lots of girls are shy about their bodies, even around other females, so your nervousness will not be totally out of place."

"I know this will be difficult for you," Mrs. Harrison adds, "but it will also be good experience for you. At least you are a transient up here. This will be as anonymous as it gets and I'll be there to help you. It is good training for when you get back to California."

"I don't know," I say, "I could use some more time to get used to the idea."

"I know, Kris," Aunt Jen encourages me, "but it would appear strange to back out now. Bill knows how bad you want to go running and we've already told him that you are coming."

Backed into a corner again.  These folks are so good at it!

"I'll try, but please don't leave me alone in there." I plead.

Laurie and her mother leave for the Jeffers' house while Mrs. Harrison and I head for the field house.

We arrive at our destination in hardly anytime at all–too fast for my liking. The Major is not there as we walk into the lobby.

"Hey, Kristina!" I am greeted by a young woman in army fatigues. I've never seen her before. "I'm Helen. Major Jeffers asked me to lookout for you. It's too bad that you made a mess of your skirt hiking around the lake, but it should clean well. I'm glad to see that you fixed your makeup, it was looking pretty bad last time I saw you."

Okay, so Helen must have been with the camouflaged soldiers. I realized her voice sounded familiar.

"I didn't recognize you without your camouflage." I remark dryly–not that I would have recognized her with it.

"The Major said that you're pretty quick," she observes. "I see that he was right. We were out there honing our protective detail skills. Those macho jerks that I work with can't stand to see a young girl crying which is why they broke cover to see if you were alright. You know how guys get around 'helpless' crying girls."

"Protective detail?" I ask.

"Yeah, we have to do that kind of work from time to time so some practice is needed," she said. "Major Jeffers sent another team out to try to kidnap you but we stopped them after you went back inside the cabin. You probably heard the weapons fire. Too bad–it would have been fun to see how you would've handled a good kidnapping. We were hoping that you'd stay outside for the fun. As it is, your hike around the lake made us pretty nervous. We weren't planning on that, but, then again, neither were the bad guys. We were spread pretty thin trying to keep you covered."

"You were shooting at each other?" I ask. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Yes, we shoot at each other, but it’s not dangerous if you're shooting blanks," she responds. "Anyway, the Major will be a few minutes late so he asked me to be your guide. He is chewing out the kidnapping team for their failure to capture you. I don't think he wanted to show you around the women's locker room anyway. Well, maybe he did, but the women's locker room is off limits to him and he'd probably just get lost anyway."

Looking at Mrs. Harrison, I ask, "Did you know about this?"

"Yes," she says, "but Jen and I wanted you and Laurie to act is if it was the real thing if you got caught. Part of your training today was supposed to be about how to deal with such situations even though we think that the possibility of your being harmed is pretty remote. It's probably a good thing that the kidnapping team was unsuccessful since we didn't get that far with our training today."

I notice that nobody likes to tell me anything–still. I am going to get a paranoia complex if this keeps up.

"Are you Kristina's mother, Ma'am?" Helen asks Mrs. Harrison.

"No, unfortunately," Mrs. Harrison replies. "I'm just a friend of the family. My name's Susan."

With the formalities out of the way, Helen checks us in at the desk then leads us into no man's land.

Mrs. Harrison sees the panic starting to stir in me and squeezes my hand reassuringly. With a knowing look, she lets me know that she is with me. 

I take a deep breath.

"A little shy still?" Helen asks noticing my hesitancy. "I was that way as my body was developing. Don't worry, Kristina, everyone is nice here."

Fortunately Laurie is right; there aren't a lot of women in the locker room and most have some clothing on. Helen leads us to a far corner of the room, explaining it will be slightly more private back there. She shows us where the showers are. Unlike the men's showers that I have seen, these are semi-private with individual stalls, so this might not be so bad after all.

I undress quickly while both the other women do the same. I slip on a pair of cotton panties and my black running shorts. I then struggle into the black sports bra. As I get ready to slip on my yellow running shirt, Helen stops me.

"Here, Kris," she says, "the Major asked me to give you this. He says that you should have one. I estimated the size after seeing you out by the lake. It should fit."

She passes me a gray T-shirt that says 'Airborne' across the chest in a curved black swatch and yellow letters.

Noticing my running necklace which is still hanging around my neck, she says, "Where did you get that great necklace? I'd love to have something like that."

I pull the shirt on and find it to be a little loose but it feels good. It hangs down to about crotch level. I like it.

"I picked it up at a store in California," I tell her. "A friend picked it out for me. I have to say that it's my favorite necklace." Not that I have a lot to choose from!

I have studiously avoided looking at my two keepers while they dress.

Mrs. Harrison dons a racing swimsuit and heads for the pool saying she will meet up with us in about an hour. Helen is wearing running clothes similar to mine.  I guess that she is going with us.

As Helen and I enter the gym to stretch, I realize suddenly that I don't know the capabilities of this body. I don't know how to run in it which could be embarrassing.  I don't know how far I will be able to run and I'm supposed to be an experienced runner in this body.  I guess that I can use the excuse of new shoes to limit the distance if things don't go well. I am more than little nervous.

Helen and I begin our stretching exercises.  Though I have stretched a million times on my own I decide to follow her lead. I am surprised to find that my new body is much more limber than my old one. I get a kick out of stretching in ways that I never could before. Interesting.

Helen gets chatty and asks about my running experience. I down play my former abilities not knowing what I can do now. To deflect her questions, I ask about her abilities. She tells me that she is training for a marathon that is scheduled for late in the summer. Uh-oh, I think, I won't be able to match her!

I notice that she avoids talking about what I am doing here, but I can sense that she'd like to know what I am being trained for.

The Major joins us as we are stretching. He appears to be in excellent shape. He is wearing an 'Airborne' T-shirt that matches mine. Helen snaps to attention.

"At ease, Private," the Major says. "We are just out for a friendly bit of exercise. Good work today, by the way. At least you didn't break cover like the rest of your team. Your team was lucky to win today after that stunt."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. I don't think that it will happen again, Sir," Helen replies and resumes stretching.

"So, Princess," the Major says to me. I get a strange look from Helen. "I hear that you had an interesting afternoon. Did you and Laurie get things worked out?"

"I think so," I reply. "Thank you for your advice last night. You gave me a lot to think about and it's helped me deal with my problems."

"I'm glad to help," he says. "So, do you mind if we keep the run short today? Polly will have dinner ready pretty soon and I'd hate to be late. She'll skin me alive if it gets cold."

"Sure," I say, "I'm breaking in new shoes anyway. How far do you want to go?"

"How about five miles?" he suggests. "We'll keep it slow so that your feet will adjust to the shoes."

Helen agrees with the plan, but requests to be allowed to go further when we are done. She needs to get a full training run in. The Major is alright with that and so am I–one less person to worry about in the locker room. Mrs. Harrison can be my security blanket there.

As we start the run, I notice that this new body does not move the same as my old one. I hadn't noticed it before, but the wider hips make the legs feel out of place. I expected that the extra motion on my chest would be an issue–and it is.  The bouncing requires some coordination of stride to keep things in harmonic motion. It's a good thing that my breasts aren't any bigger than they are. The swaying of the pony tail was also distracting. The strangest sensation of all is between my legs. I am used to the extra equipment down there.  The new parts of the replacement equipment kind of stretch and move a little and the muscles are different.  It is hard to describe. It feels as if the various parts of my body were all trying to go their own way.

The end effect is that–for the first couple of miles–it is like learning to run all over again. The Major and Private exchange a look that communicates something like: I thought that this girl could run. After a couple of miles, I start to find my pace and begin learn how to coordinate the various body parts. After that, I run more comfortably and the pace picks up. It will take some getting used to running in this new body.

Now that I've found a reasonably comfortable running style, I notice that neither my breathing nor my legs are at all labored. In fact the two major components of running seem as if they are idling.  THIS is cool! What it means is that this body will be a running machine once I learn how to use it and I am not starting from ground zero in conditioning. I am going to need more than five miles to put this body through it's paces once I get comfortable controlling it. I get pretty excited and noticeably pick up the pace as we return to the field house. My running companions appreciate the faster pace.

Throughout the run, my two companions have been chatting away about various things, but I have been concentrating on learning how to run again so most of the conversation passes me by.

The Major and I stop running a couple of blocks from the field house so that we can cool down by walking. I thank Helen for the run before she continues.

"We'll do it again, Kris," she says. "You did pretty good after you got used to your new shoes!"

As the Major and I walk back, he asks about my day, though it seems as if he already knows about it. I told him about the success at the DMV and that Laurie and I are trying to be friends again.

After stretching for a few minutes we head for our respective locker rooms.  He worked up a pretty good sweat. I did too, but not to the same extent. I remember once my sister, Tiff, pointing out that girls don't sweat, they perspire. I did my fair share of perspiring on today's run.

Mrs. Harrison is almost dressed when I get back in the locker room.  I am also happy to see that there is only one other woman in our corner of the locker room and she is not paying any attention to us. I afford her the same courtesy. I am feeling a bit less nervous than when we first came in, but I will still be happy to escape from here.

"How'd the run go, Kris?" Mrs. Harrison asks.

"It was rough until I started to figure out the new equipment," I quietly respond. "This body moves a lot differently when you run."

"Are you okay if I leave you here?" she asks. "I need to go make a phone call."

I am feeling more comfortable now–'more' being a relative term–but think that I can handle being alone here now.

"Sure," I say, "I'll meet you in the lobby."

I noticed that most of the women wrapped their towel around them as they moved between the lockers and showers; only a few just walk around stark naked. The towel idea appeals to me.

I use a technique learned earlier today to put my hair up in a bun so that it won't get wet in the shower and get undressed.  I quickly wrap my towel around myself and head for the showers.

As soon as I am in the shower stall, I pull the curtain and proceed to get clean. The warm water feels heavenly, but I'm in a hurry to get out of here. I won't feel completely comfortable until I do.  Given recent experience, I figure that brain central will take this new experience as input and work it into its programming. Next time I should feel much more at home here in the women's locker room.

When I get back to the lockers, the other woman has gone–as well as Mrs. Harrison.  I am alone in my far corner. I begin to panic a little about being on my own, but manage to keep it under control. This is not as bad as I thought it would be. Quickly getting dressed again, I pack up my exercise clothes and head to the bank of sinks where there are several women working on their makeup.  I do the same. Today's makeup lesson really pays off. While not totally proficient yet, I try to act like this is an everyday thing as I apply a minimal amount with passable results. I also try one of the hairstyles we worked on earlier. None of the other women pay me any attention.

I find Mrs. Harrison chatting with the Major in the entry area.

"There's my Princess," the Major says with a smile as he notices my presence.

"I like what you did with your hair, Kris," Mrs. Harrison comments approvingly. It feels good to be doing something right!

After agreeing to meet Mrs. Harrison tomorrow morning at the field house for an early workout, we transfer what's left of my stuff from Mrs. Harrison's rental car into the Major's truck. I try to climb into the truck in a lady-like fashion, but it is tough and the skirt doesn't make it any easier.

As we head home, the Major casually drops a bomb, "You haven't been who you are now–physically I mean–for very long have you?"

That comment really came out of left field. I did not see it coming. How do I answer that one?

"I can't figure out how you changed, but you act as if you haven't figured out your body yet," he continues. "If I had to guess, you were probably male not too long ago. I'd like to know how the transformation happened but figure that's classified information. I'm sure that it wasn't SRS. The job is too complete and your mannerisms haven't quite caught up with your body. I understand that with SRS patients, the body is usually the finishing touch."

Well, so much for trying to blend in. I wonder who else has figured this out.

---< >---

This chapter was polished by Gabi–twice–and influenced by the numerous comments on prior chapters.
Thanks to all, particularly Gabi.

Something Feels Strange…

As we head home, the Major casually drops a bomb, "You haven't been who you are now–physically I mean–for very long have you?"

That comment really came out of left field. I did not see it coming. How do I answer that one?

"I can't figure out how you changed, but you act as if you haven't figured out your body yet," he continues. "If I had to guess, you were probably male not too long ago. I'd like to know how the transformation happened but figure that's classified information. I'm sure that it wasn't SRS. The job is too complete and your mannerisms haven't quite caught up with your body. I understand that with SRS patients, the body is usually the finishing touch."

Well, so much for trying to blend in. I wonder who else has figured this out.

Chapter 14: Busted!

I'm speechless. I knew that I was having trouble adapting, but I reckon I must be doing pretty badly to be unmasked so quickly.

I don't know what to say.  It is pretty obvious that lying won't work, and  anyway I have never been at all good at it.

"I take it from your lack of response," he observes, "that I must've hit pretty close to the mark."

"Yeah," I reply with resignation, "You hit the nail pretty much on the head."

Actually, I am feeling some relief at being found out. At least I am being caught by a good guy, I think. It is like knowing that this is a dress rehearsal. In a rehearsal you are allowed to screw up but you get critique that allows you to pull off the show in front of a real audience. No one would ever just flip through a script then just jump on stage before an audience. Until I get this girl thing down, it is probably best if the people close to me know what is going on so that they can help me learn the score.

Let's face it, I have never, I mean never, ever, made any attempt to act like a girl before yesterday. Not even in jest. The behaviors did not come with the body. I only got half the package in the transformation. The rest will take some time to learn.

Oddly, brain central is almost begging for more girl info to be put into the programming.  Not necessarily because it wants to become a girl forever, but because it wants to become a convincing girl for as long as this charade lasts. Brain central really wants to play the part right and doesn't feel that it has enough information to do that yet. Having always been one who likes things to run smoothly, acting like a boy in a girl's body is not a real option.

"So," I ask, trying to learn, "where did I go wrong? It is pretty important that I get this right."

"Well, let's see," he says. "When I picked you up yesterday all I saw was a girl.  During our tour of the Base and Post and on the way home, something seemed out of place.  The way you sat in the truck looked like it was forced and not quite right. You were trying to act like somebody that you are not. I also felt as if I was chatting with my son. At first I wrote your behavior off as being tomboyish plus not enough acting ability to pull off an undercover assignment. When we got home and you were frosty with Laurie, that seemed genuinely feminine, so I figured that maybe you were just a tomboy.

"Then when I gave you that fatherly advice out on the deck, it seemed to me to be more like a father-son chat.  You related too well to some of the things that I was saying."

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you," I inform him, "that–in my other life–I am an Eagle scout so I could visualize what you were talking about."

"I figured you must have had some scouting experience," he continued. "Then my protection team reported some unlady-like behavior out at the lake today. They also reported that you seemed unaccustomed to the skirt but when you dropped it to wipe the grass off your rear end they became pretty convinced that you are an actual female."

Those guys didn't miss a beat.

"In your favor, the meltdown with the tears came off as being genuinely feminine. As a result of their surveillance, the guys on the team have decided that you are the ultimate tomboy and that there is some conspiracy going on to make you act your gender." he explains. "I'm pretty sure that they haven't put together the transformation idea yet. I am pretty sure Helen knows that something is up. Both of us were surprised at how you started the run.  It reminded me of someone riding a bike with training wheels."

"Your team is right," I state. "This whole thing seems like some big conspiracy to me but I can't go into the details.  And, yes, part of the conspiracy is to make me act more like a girl."

"A point in your favor is that you both were facing the lake during your chat so the team was unable to pick up your conversation," he said. "Not that they were listening too closely since they were trying to detect the bad guys and protective detail is supposed to respect the privacy of those they are protecting. You need to remember to do things like that if you suspect that someone's eavesdropping."

He gives me some more advice on how to be discreet when trying to avoid being overheard.

"I know that this is getting personal," he asks, "but have you ever wanted to be a girl?"

"No," I answer truthfully, "Actually I never gave it a thought before last week. I've been pretty happy being a guy."

"So why are you doing this?" he asks.

"Well, in a way I was conned into it," I reply reflectively, "but this is only temporary and is part of a job that I think will be pretty cool."

"Temporary?" he asks. "You mean that they can transform you back?"

Oops, I think that I just gave away too much information.

"I think I just made a mistake," I say with some alarm. "That is classified information."

Ignoring my retraction, he says thoughtfully, "This process could be extremely useful to my operations. I'll have to talk with Jen about it."

Trying to get him off that idea, I try to continue answering his original question.

"I am viewing this body simply as a disguise or a costume that will allow me to do what my boss needs me to do. It is just part of a summer job. The side benefit is that maybe I can come to understand girls better," I say.

I can tell that he is still thinking about all the possibilities of using the transformation process, but he does come back to the original line of thought.

"Let me know if it works! I've been trying to figure out girls my whole life," he says with a laugh. "Well, our job is to help you get ready for the main performance, so I guess that this is a dress rehearsal. I thought that we'd just have to fill you in on the family background and the locale information, but it appears that there's more to it than that.  That must be why Jen and Laurie came up."

"This is going to be a busy week," I say with a sigh. "Not exactly a vacation."

By the time we reach the house, we have pretty much come to the conclusion that this is a great experience for me, both the job and the transformation. The Major commits to helping me all that he can this week and has a few ideas of his own.

Over dinner, we bring Mom Polly up to speed on the situation. Aunt Jen and I keep the Jeffers and Laurie out of the loop concerning the espionage though I am sure that they know something bad is happening at the Lab to warrant this level of effort. Tom is working at the pool, which is good because we decide to keep him out of the loop concerning my sex change.

Polly says that she suspected something was up but couldn't quite put her finger on it.  She never would have suspected the transformation, but the knowledge of it makes sense out of her observations. Aunt Jen is not particularly happy that they have so easily deduced my transformation, but Bill pointed out that they already knew that something undercover was going on so it wasn't such a large leap. He doubts that anyone else will make the connection. They will just see a strange girl. After all, he points out with a grin, no one really knows what a girl is supposed to be like anyway–they keep changing the rules. This earns him reproving looks from the three natural-born females and a kick in the shins under the table from his wife.

After the dinner mess is cleaned up, we sit in the big living room to discuss the situation.

When I plop myself down on the couch, all three females start to correct me at once. I have to try sitting on the couch in a lady-like fashion about half a dozen times in penance. I am reminded to sit upright. All three seem to have decided that they need to push me hard on girl mannerisms during this training week. I won't be cut any slack.

"What I think your need," Aunt Polly states with enthusiasm, "is to be immersed in all the typical teen girl experiences you can this week, so that they won't be totally new to you when you return to California." She is getting excited. I think that she is looking forward to some girl time after being around the two guys all the time.

She begins making a list, "We need to go check out some chick flicks popular with teen girls so that you will be familiar with what your peers are up on. While the feminine mannerisms and attitudes are distorted in most of them, they do hit close to the mark most of the time."

"I've seen a few with my family and Laurie," I point out. "I've spent a lot of time around girls, you know."

"But," she says, "I doubt that you have looked at them from a girl's perspective so we'll watch a few more." I'm pretty sure that she is looking forward to this more than I am.

Continuing, she says, "We must take you on a girls' shopping trip."

"Ah," I say, "I've been on one of those recently."

"From what you told us, darling," she says patiently, "I don't think that one counts. You were little more than a mannequin and didn't have time to really learn how to shop.  It will be fun," she promises.

Laurie kicks in, "Ashley invited us to go shopping tomorrow afternoon with her friends. I told her that we'd go."

Mom Polly looks disappointed since she knows that the trip is a teen only event.

"I'm sure that we can do more shopping later with you and Aunt Jen," I reassure her.

"I think it's a good idea for you to go on a girl's outing with your peers,” Aunt Jen mentions, “but you'll really need to be more clued up on girl shopping techniques and mannerisms before you do.  Besides you two have more job orientation tomorrow. If you get done early, then maybe we can do our shopping orientation tomorrow afternoon. Laurie, can you get Ashley to put off the trip until later in the week?"

"I'll try, Mom," she replies. "Tom and Ashley were also talking about finding a couple of boys so that we could do a triple date.  I think Kris needs at least one dating experience before we go back to California." She looks at me nervously.

Oh boy. What does this mean? Is she ready to start dating someone else already or is she really just trying to get me some girl experience? I can't imagine her with someone else.  I can't imagine me with someone else. Laurie's suggestion throws me into a mental whirl.

"Kris," she quickly says, "it's not like we're looking for romance. It's just a date–not a commitment. A way to hang out with other kids and have fun. Besides girls are always comparing notes on their dating experiences. If you don't have any experience, you won't have anything to contribute. It would seems very strange for girl as cute as you to have never been on a date. Even tomboys date occasionally."

"Laurie's right," Mom Polly interjects. "It is an experience that a sixteen-year-old girl should have had by now–anyway, at your age, you shouldn't be getting serious." She glances at Laurie. "Just go and have fun. You don't have to kiss him or anything.  Just be friends. Who knows, maybe it will be the date from Hell.  Every girl has one or two of those. The boys will be clueless and easy to deceive. The problem will be Ashley, but we can get you in good enough shape by the end of the week to pass without being obviously out of place."

"I don't know if I can date a guy," I say nervously.

"Well," Mom Polly says, "you have the week to think about it. Tom doesn't have a day off until Friday. It might be easier if you don't look at it as anything romantic– just look on it as hanging out. Will you at least think about it, darling?"

This will really give brain central something to prepare for.

"I'll try," I reply with apprehension, "but I'm not sure I can do it."

Actually, I'm real sure that I can't do it.

"Too bad we can't get in a slumber party before we go back," Laurie muses. "That's one experience that just about every girl has had many times by the time she's sixteen."

Another ultimate girl activity–the mysterious sleepover event. Girls never tell boys about what happens at those events but you can see the excitement exude from girls as they plan one. My sisters have had quite a few and I have always been banished to my room for the night if I'm not out on a scout camp out. Dad goes into hiding too.

"Too bad," I say with relief.

"Don't worry Kris, I am already thinking about holding one when we get home," Laurie adds enthusiastically. "You'll just love it!"

Oh joy! I think to myself.

Brain central is even getting into the act, because I get a message to lighten up. It is trying to adapt to the persona that goes with its body. I am getting confused.

"Let's get her some teen girl magazines that she can study," Mom Polly suggests to the crowd. "She ought to know the kinds of things that girls find interesting and what the latest trends are."

"I have a copy of Seventeen with me that she can start on," Laurie offers eagerly.

As the conversation progresses, I note that the Major has kept pretty quiet.

"Ladies," he says, "I am out of my depth here, but I will be happy to support you anyway that I can. Just let me know what you want me to do. In the mean time, I need to go do a few things in the yard. Call me if you need anything."

With that statement, he quickly exits, leaving me alone with my new mentors. Or is that tormentors? Whichever it is, they're getting increasingly excited. I think I might be an excuse for some serious girl time–something which Mom Polly seems to have been seriously deprived of in recent times. She is by far the most excited.

Laurie makes a quick call to Ashley who agrees to move the shopping to Thursday. Aunt Jen calls Mrs. Harrison to find out that our briefing should be completed by early afternoon tomorrow.

After handing me Laurie's copy of Seventeen to read Aunt Jen and Laurie head out to the local video store to pick up a few of the movies with which most teen girls will be familiar. I am told that pajamas would be appropriate attire for the evening's activities and that I should get mine on. Mom Polly is getting out the popcorn and some diet sodas. She says that she has ice cream in the freezer and chocolate in the cupboard.

I noticed a set of plaid flannel pajamas in my wardrobe as we unpacked last night so I go up to put them on. While I am there, I take care of removing my makeup and doing my new moisturizer routine. I also clean the new holes in my ears. Looking at them, I wonder what I would look like with dangly earrings.  I've always thought that dangly earrings looked good on a girl, especially on one with long hair. I find myself wishing that my hair was longer. I am starting to wonder about my thought processes. 

Returning the the main floor, I help Mom Polly set up their family room for an evening of girl fun then settle in to read Seventeen while we wait for the others to return with the movies.

Mom Polly also hands me a package from the drugstore. "I filled your prescription today while I was out. You will want to start taking those right after your next period."

Prescription? Period? Oh! I remember giving her my birth control prescription last night after unpacking. "Ah... Thanks," is all that I can get out before going back upstairs to hide them in my drawer. The thought of doing anything that would result in pregnancy sends chills down my spine.  That is not going to happen willingly.

Back downstairs I start my reading assignment. Seventeen is like no other magazine that I have ever read.  Sure, I have seen copies lying around at home, but I have never bothered to actually look at one. The magazine has been around forever (60 years it claims) and is filled with advice on fashion, hair, skin, makeup, health, sex, fitness, dating, college and career, and other things that girls find interesting. Where to start? I've had a crash course in hair and makeup, so the next crisis is likely to be fashion. I start with an article about this year's summer fashions. The article is not very long and full of words like adorable, comfy, cute, chic, and awesome and bubbles about what to wear to parties, the beach, the pool, or just hanging out at the mall. The writing style is upbeat and peppy. None of the articles seem to be all that deep. Moving on to other articles, I get engrossed in a discussion of girl's health issues when the movies arrive.

Looking through the titles, I find Bring it On, Enchanted, Ice Princess, and Legally Blonde. These would not have been my first picks, but I guess that the new me needs to see these.

When Tom gets home from work about an hour later he encounters four females in pajamas watching Bring it On in the family room. He wisely retreats to his own room.  The Major hasn't been seen for hours. Even Max has left us to ourselves. This is definitely a girls' night.

As the movie progresses, my tutors give me an education on the ruthless and underhanded tricks that girls are prone to pull on each other. And here I thought that they were all sweet and kind.  My tutors inform me that I need to learn the tricks and the signs of female treachery if I am to survive around other girls. As a guy, I had heard rumors of such dealings, but didn't realize how serious that they could become. Girls treat other girls much differently to the way they treat guys.  This sounds like a valuable lesson.

As we need an early start in the morning, we view only one movie. We'll watch the rest as the week progresses. In another strange ritual, we all hug before heading for bed. Mom Polly looks as if she has had a great time.

When Laurie and I get to our room, it is apparent that Laurie is not entirely comfortable about something so we sit on the bed together to talk.

In response to my inquiry about her nervousness, she sheepishly replies, "Kris, I know that you are still Chris, my boyfriend, in there. While I see all girl when I look at you, I still feel a bit unnerved about sleeping with you and being around you when I dress. I mean, if you were a real girl it would be no big deal, but I know that you used to be a boy just a few days ago and that makes me uncomfortable. I'm not sure about sleeping in the same bed or even sharing the same room with my boyfriend yet, even though you are now a girl. Does that make sense?"

I understand what she is saying–I feel pretty uncomfortable too. Heck, I was uncomfortable sharing a room with my naked mother and hanging out in a locker room with a bunch of naked and nearly naked females. I'm just surprised at her response after her bravado about me being naked around her from the first night in the store.

"You don't seem to have any problem with me being naked around you," I remind her, "so how come it doesn't work the other way?" I think that I already know the answer to this one but I want to hear it from her.

"When you are naked, I see what I've seen hundreds of times," she nervously explains. "A girl being around another naked girl is no big deal. But with you–please don't hate me for this–you're a boy in disguise as a girl. It's kind of creepy, like you're a peeping Tom with a license. I know that you would never be such a pervert, but still–" she leaves the sentence hanging.

I decide to let her off the hook. "That's okay, I know what you're saying. I feel pretty awkward invading private girl space. The couple of times that I have been in a women's room and the locker room have made me feel pretty uncomfortable–as if I was some place that I really don't belong. My mother told me that I would have to get used to it, but I think that it'll take me changing my whole way of thinking to renounce myself mentally from my former gender. Listen, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, even though you and everyone else connected with this charade have put me into lots of uncomfortable situations. What would you like for us to do?"

"For this week anyway," she says, "we are going to have to share a bed or one of us will have to sleep on the floor, but that would be out of character. Let's agree to stay on our own sides."

I agree to that, so I nod affirmatively to her.

"As far as dressing goes, can you give me some privacy by not being in the room when I dress?" she requests, hopefully. "I'll try to be quick."

"Sure," I agree. "Can you do the same for me unless I need you?"

I think we are both relieved to have set those ground rules. She leans over and gives me a sisterly hug before we retreat to our respective sides of the bed. I don't think that either one of us have resolved in our minds whether I am a boy or a girl at this point.

We talk more about the events of the day and she shows me how to put up my hair in order to avoid morning hair before drifting off to sleep. It feels good to friends again, even if we are still working on reestablishing the nature of our friendship.

---< >---

Tuesday morning, I am up and dressed in time to catch a ride to the Post with the Major. I go with jeans and a layered camisole and top today. The morning conversation is much lighter than last night's revelations–thank goodness. He reminds me to sit more lady-like at one point. Like I said, everyone is in the act of training me!

We arrive at the field house before Mrs. Harrison, but the Major doesn't stick around as he has work to do. That's okay with me, because I now have some idea of the layout and procedures.  Checking in at the front desk, I head to my far corner of the locker room again only to find it more crowded than yesterday.  I take a deep breath and change as if everything is normal, but still trying to keep my vision focused on my locker. I can't help but notice the scantily clad and naked women around me. All the colorful undergarments are distracting–the women's locker room is much more colorful than the men's. Mrs. Harrison shows up as I finish getting dressed.

In no time at all, we are running along the roads of the Base. Mrs. Harrison is a surprisingly good runner. I do much better than I did yesterday. She tells me that running is a hobby she picked up in high school and has kept up with most of her life. She regularly runs in 5k and 10k races, finishing in the top quarter of her age group. She notices that I am struggling to find a comfortable running style and gives me some excellent advice about running as a woman. By the end of our seven mile run, I feel as if I am starting to develop a running style that works with my new body and I also find that I am much more relaxed. The only thing missing is my private meditation time.

Laurie and her mom catch up with us at the cabin and we get more training on the covert part of our summer jobs.

Originally, Laurie was not going to be a part of the covert operation, but since she had figured out most of the details the security team decided to be make her part of the team. Another pair of eyes can't hurt. She is told of this new opportunity this morning and agrees to join up so she was briefed by her mother on the espionage situation while Mrs. Harrison and I were out running. She seems excited that we will actually get to work together all summer. She will get a super cell phone like mine when we get home. Apparently we can share the super laptop to file our reports since we will be living together all summer. Laurie has been using her mother's computer up to this point to file her reports.

As the morning progresses, Mrs. Harrison spends time telling us about how to use the computer and cell phones. We practice with the various features, particularly the panic message modes, until we are comfortable with them.  One really neat feature of the smart cell phones is the powerful zoom capability of the camera although, even with image stabilization, it is hard to hold it still enough to take a sharp picture at full zoom.  With practice I did get a few good pictures of a pair of Loons–Great Northern Divers to the British–out on the lake and a moose that wanders across the lawn. The cell phones also take digital video at a resolution much greater than your average cell phone. With a special key sequence, we can dump our images on a server that the security team monitors. We are cautioned to not let anyone else know about these capabilities.

Mrs. Harrison, gives us a 30,000 ft overview of the research programs that are the most at risk and who is involved in them. She tells us what kind of behavior and information we should be looking out for.  In addition to observing people and filling out questionnaires, she says that we should immediately report security lapses to her.  For example, if we see something that appears as if it should not be left out, we should photograph it and bring it back so that security group can chastise the offending people. The thought being that if an intern can view classified information, then anyone can. This sounds like an expansion of job scope to me.

She also suggests that we keep our cell phones on record mode whenever we go into any of the research areas. We are told that the security team needs to know if anyone is saying anything they shouldn't around us.  The theory being that the researchers must be taught to be more discreet.

We spent some time working on techniques for taking pictures and recording audio without being obvious. We told her about the planned shopping trip and she suggested that we practice our information gathering techniques in the store.

We also spend time discussing ways of hiding what we are doing from the other Lab employees.  Mrs. Harrison suggests we maintain an innocent 'dumb-blonde' air about us.

"You know," she says, "like you do when are trying to extract information from any guy or are trying to get out of a difficult situation, like a traffic ticket."

Laurie, it is apparent, knows exactly what Mrs. Harrison is talking about and connects with the lesson. Having little experience with girl tricks, I am floored that these actions are premeditated. Reviewing my past I am starting to see lots of situations where this might have been played on me. I am more than somewhat chagrined.

"A guy's natural inclination is to think that a young girl thinks of nothing but clothes, makeup, and boys," Aunt Jen explains patiently, "and consequently couldn't know about anything else. You'll find it useful to let a guy think that way most of the time, particularly when you're trying to get something out of him. It can be pretty entertaining to pull this trick sometimes. Unfortunately, this same way of thinking means that guys won't take you seriously when you want them to. It can be really frustrating."

I can think of the many times that girls have acted this way around me over the years. Even my own sisters and Laurie. Was it always an act?

"What makes the dumb-blonde technique so effective," Laurie explains after I express my thoughts, "is that actually there are some clueless girls out there, but most of the time it is an act. Guys fall for the routine most of the time even if they know about it." She looks at me apologetically. I've been had–more than once–I'm sure.

My three girl consultants suggest that I find a guy to try it on sometime soon as, they say, it takes practice to perfect the technique.

Mrs. Harrison explains to us the need for compartmentalization. She says that we will be safer if we don't know everything that is going on in the investigation.  We are just to collect information and return it to her in addition to looking for suspicious behavior and reporting it. We are only to talk with her about these issues. Aunt Jen confirms this requirement. We are not even supposed to pass in anything we find to Aunt Jen.

We are also supposed to work our way into the confidence of the children of several key researchers so that we can look for information in their homes that seems out of place. I am already on friendly terms with several of the kids as Chris but we need to find a way for Kris to get into their confidence.

At least one of the families that she wants us to befriend will be hard to work with.  The daughter who is my age also runs cross country, but she is known to be a bit of a snobby bitch and alienates almost anyone who tries to make friends with her. She hangs with a couple of other girls who have similar issues–they are a lonely group.

One other family has a boy Laurie's age, but he is a loner. No one really knows much about him and he isn't telling. Some people think that he is stuck up, but my opinion is that he is just shy. He never bugs anyone and seems to be content being by himself.

We finish the morning briefing with a discussion about what to do if kidnapped by the bad guys. Mrs. Harrison points out that if we are actually kidnapped that means that they don't intend to kill us. If they want to kill us, they are probably good enough to do it without the complication of a kidnapping.  As a result, the best thing to do is act cooperatively and send a distress signal if possible. We are also to play the clueless teenage girl trick. Our whereabouts will be monitored constantly and if we go missing at anytime, a team will be sent to check on us so help will be on the way soon and we just need to hang on. We are assured that the risk of trouble is very low as we will only be minor sensors in the investigation.

Aunt Jen teaches us a few basic resistance moves that we can use if someone tries to abduct us in a public place.  Things like shouting, flailing our arms, scraping their shins and stomping on their foot, kicking the knee sideways, and the like. We don't have time to practice them, but we are encouraged to keep the moves in mind.

"This is sooo cool!" Laurie squeals as we complete the briefing in time for a late lunch. "I just know that we can find the spy. I can hardly wait to get started.  And we get to spend all this time together! Isn't this just the greatest? It's better than I'd hoped for."

"Part of your job," Mrs. Harrison tells Laurie, "is to help Kris blend in as a girl. I think that we are already seeing that it'll take more than this week to help him become a believable her, so we need someone who can be around her as much as possible to help coach her and keep her out of trouble. Who better than her favorite cousin?"

I have to admit, that I feel better with this arrangement.  I am starting to doubt my ability to convincingly pull off being a girl without constant supervision.

---< >---

Thanks again to Gabi.  I learned more about the differences between English and American this time around.

Something Feels Strange…

"This is sooo cool!" Laurie squeals as we complete the briefing in time for a late lunch. "I just know that we can find the spy. I can hardly wait to get started.  And we get to spend all this time together! Isn't this just the greatest? It is better than I had hoped for."

"Part of the job," Mrs. Harrison says, "is to help Kris blend in as a girl. I think that we are already seeing that it will take more than this week to help him become a believable her, so we need someone who can be around her as much as possible to help coach her and keep her out of trouble. Who better than her favorite cousin?"

I have to admit, that I feel better with this arrangement.  I am starting to doubt my ability to convincingly pull off being a girl without constant supervision.

Chapter 15: Shopping Lessons

"One important thing you need to know about clothes shopping," Laurie explains, "is that shopping does not necessarily mean buying."

Okay, I kind of got that idea from watching my mom and sisters disappear for whole days and coming back with only one or two items. It has always been confusing to me as to why that is.  I only go into a store if I know what it is I'm looking for.  Once there, I find whatever it is I am looking for, purchase it and leave.  It seems simple enough.

"Think of it," Mom Polly says, "as recreation–kind of like playing video games. For girls, shopping is like playing with dolls; you're looking for the perfect outfit to make the doll–or in this case, yourself–look just right for a given occasion. The goal is to discover just the right item, or items, that will make you look good. The options are endless and you get to express yourself in what you wear. To achieve your goal, you have to look at, try on, and compare all the available options."

This sounds deeper than just grabbing a pair of jeans and heading to the checkout register. The process seems downright philosophical. On consideration, while I've never really liked shopping, I can sort of see where finding the right look for a girl could be more interesting than looking for the right look for a guy. The right look for a guy is easy to achieve. Not so for a girl. it's like trying to solve a puzzle which has many possible solutions. Also, everyone likes it when a girl looks nice and girls seem to enjoy looking good. If I was a girl, I'd rather look my best than be a slob. Oops, I am a girl!

Aunt Jen weighs in. "What we did that first time was not true shopping.  That was more like guy shopping. Go in get what you need and leave. We had to find a whole lot of things in a short time, so it was rushed and not well thought out, though I think we did a respectable job. Today we'll be able to take our time and do some shopping for all of us."

Well, I know pretty well what is happening the rest of the afternoon.  I can't remember ever spending more than half an hour in a clothing store when shopping for myself before my first girl experience.  We've got at least three hours to kill before we need to get back to the house to fix dinner. Can it really take that much time?

"You're going to find there are so many more options when you're a girl," Laurie enthuses, "I think that you're going to find this fun. Just focus on making yourself look like the girl you want to be." As if I wanted to be any type of a girl.

I may have mentioned this before, but while I've always appreciated a well-dressed girl, I've never really analyzed what makes her that way.  It's kind of like looking at a painting–most people know what they like without really knowing what makes it that way.  Few people pay attention to the detail and technique. They just look at the whole package, and let the artist worry about the details.

Now, being on the other side of the fence, it's apparent that girls are artists who worry about the details. If outfitting a girl is like a work of art, it takes time and practice to become a good artist. I think about how clumsy my few attempts at 'artwork' look. I've not invested the time nor learned the principles that would make my work appealing.  Now, it appears, is time for a crash course in the basics in the art of assembling a feminine wardrobe.

Thinking about all the girls I know, I realize each one has a varying degree of skill in choosing clothes.  There are many girls who don't do a good job and they don't look very appealing. Others always look hot.  In between the two extremes are the majority. Presumably as a tomboy, I suspect I'm not going to be expected to be an expert in looking hot, so that makes things easier. Sadly, I think my three trainers are going to take me as far as they can beyond basics in the time available.

I'm not sure that this is shaping up to be the fun Laurie is promising.

The discussion turns to the kind of look we're trying to achieve for me. Given my cover background, we–I do get to have a say in this–decide girly girl is out. So is the slut look, so we can forget micro-mini skirts and tight revealing tops. I don't care much for the cheerleader look either. Also, I can skip on the dowdy bookworm look. None of those would fit with the desired tomboy look. Extreme tomboy is probably not quite right either. We settle for the look of a tomboy who enjoys the outdoors but is starting to discover a little femininity. This means some outdoor style clothes plus a few simple mid-length and longer loose skirts and nice tops.

With this in mind, we pull into the parking lot at REI–a major outdoor outfitter chain. Entering into the store, we're confronted by rows of mountain bikes, many types of canoes and kayaks hanging from the ceiling, rows of tents, and walls full of backpacks and accessories. This is my kind of place. You can tell Aunt Jen and Laurie seem disappointed, but Mom Polly assures them it's just the place for outfitting the outdoor girl.

She leads us upstairs to an area where outdoor clothing and shoes are sold. As we enter the women's section, I get the urge to hang back on the periphery like I would do as a guy. Brain central is still not completely with the program.  Seeing my hesitation, Laurie takes me by the hand and encourages me to start looking at clothes. I look around to make sure people aren't staring at me. No one seems to give me a second glance.

We start by looking at pants. Apparently, Alaska outdoor girls must have a non-cotton pair of convertible pants–pants where you can unzip and remove the legs, making them shorts. Non-cotton is important because cotton clothes don't do well in wet cold weather–not that we've seen any of that kind of weather yet. There are a number of options to choose from in fabrics with strange names. I try on pretty much all the available options.  There's no rush, so my instructors include me in the discussion of how things fit and look. They point out how different colors and styles can make a girl look slimmer or fatter. Laurie leans toward a pair of 'Fossil' colored–off-white in my estimation–pants but Mom Polly says they would get too dirty if actually used in the outdoors. Those, she says, are good for outdoor wannabes. The best color for true outdoor use would be the 'Marsh Green'–looks like green to me–but I really like a pair with cargo pockets in 'Boxwood'–kind of a grey green. When I return to being a guy, I reckon I'm going to have to get a pair of the male version of these. They are lightweight and comfortable.

I am amazed at the process of selecting a single pair of pants has taken over an hour. Given, in the process we looked at and tried on a few tops with each of the various options. I wasn't the only one getting into the act. Laurie probably tried on as many things as I did and our elders also tried on a few things. We got some help from the sales staff, but for the most part they stayed in the wings to answer technical questions about fabrics and care.

In addition to the pants, I find two tops I like. One is a girl's sleeveless T-shirt, the other a long sleeve pullover top with a Y neck, Ash Green, with a hood and embroidery on the front. It is in a lightweight fabric that's reputed to dry quickly if it gets wet, wicks moisture away from the skin and stretches in four directions. The sleeves can be rolled up and secured in a half sleeve length. As you might guess, I really like the top.

REI doesn't have much in the way of skirts and dresses, and what they do have is pretty utilitarian. You are not going to find high fashion here. We try on a few of the offerings but don't find anything that really works for any of us.

In the end, Laurie picks the pair of the Fossil colored cargo pants, because they looked great on her. She's not that big of an outdoor enthusiast anyway. I end up with two pairs of pants–one in Marsh Green and the other in Boxwood–and the two tops. Aunt Jen found a top that she likes, but Mom Polly doesn't find anything that she wants to purchase today.

One of the sales girls suggests that, if we're going to get into the outdoor scene, we ought to check out the panties made for active outdoor activities.  She says they stay put better than your department store lingerie and come in fabrics especially made for wicking moisture and for the extra stretch needed for outdoor activities. She tells us they hold up better than plain cotton.  At $15 and more per pair, I'm starting to think this gal must be working on commission, but I end up with a couple of pair of hipster style in plain white–I'm not quite ready for fancy colors and styles yet.

Realizing that my shoe options are pretty thin, we spend some time picking through the outdoor shoe offerings. There is nothing particularly fashionable here, but I pick up a pair of hiking boots made from a special lightweight waterproof fabric and a few pairs of hiking socks. The boots look great with my new pants and will be much more practical if I get to go hiking.

While we are doing this, Laurie and I trade my cell phone back and forth taking pictures of each other and trying our skills at discreetly photographing other customers and the staff.  One sales girl caught me shooting a picture of a little girl shopping with her mother and commented on how cute the girl was.  It'll take a lot of practice to learn how to shoot pictures unobtrusively.

At the checkout, Mom Polly has me get my own REI membership.  After all, she tells me, all outdoors women are regulars at REI.

I reflect on the past couple of hours and realize it passed pretty quickly. At first, I was dreading the experience as being tedious, but I realize my perspective shifted as I got into it. Shopping as a girl IS different than shopping as a guy. Few guys worry about the finer points of looking good and there's not much to work with when they do. I know guys like girls to look good, but leave it up the girl to figure out how to do it. I suspect if a guy had to play dress-up-the-girl, they would spend even more time at it than a girl would to get something that looks right.

As the afternoon progressed, it became apparent much of the shopping could be classified as research. Even the natural women often seemed more interested in learning about the clothes than actually buying them, the information being cataloged and stored for future possible need.

When you're the girl that's being dressed up your perspective changes. Even my male mind knows it's important for a girl to look nice. Once the connection has been made between me and the girl in the mirror, the responsibility for making the girl look nice has shifted to me. It has become personally important for Brain Central to look out for the girl's best interests. I now have a vested interest in learning how to dress this girl for the best effect. It's not as easy as it looks.

With this new perspective, and without the pressure of a time crunch, the shopping doesn't turn out to be too bad. I learn a lot from helping the other three find things that look good on them. We debate the pros and cons of the various outfits and I learn more about the many things to consider when choosing the right attire. I learn that subtle changes in cut and fit can send drastically different messages about the person wearing the clothes. It's going to take lots of practice to learn all the nuances.

Mind you, I think I'd still prefer to go for a hike than go shopping, but the experience is not unpleasant. A side benefit is I get to know the ladies better in an environment they obviously enjoy. Even Aunt Jen is more personable when not fixated on a goal that has to be accomplished in a short time. She also seems to really enjoy the time spent with her sister. All sorts of stories of their girlhood slip out as the day progresses.

On reflection, I realize the biggest lesson learned at REI is that dressing as a girl is a lot more interesting than dressing as a guy. It's worth taking the time to do it right. I'm pretty sure, that when I return to my old self, my old shopping habits will return because there's just not any real challenge to dressing as a guy. In the meantime, I find I like shopping as a girl because it really makes a difference. I'm sure it'll get even better as I continue to learn about what we're shopping for and the techniques for doing it.

We still have a least an hour before needing to return home, so we stop in at the local Sears store down the street.

The girls' clothing selection seems infinitely larger than that which we found at REI.  It's a lot like that first night of girl shopping in California. Overwhelming is the term that comes to mind.

The goal at Sears is to begin finding clothes appropriate for work. The lab is a professional environment, but not business professional. Aunt Jen explains that while the office staff and support personnel tend to dress on the nice side of casual, many of the researchers have been known to show up in jeans and casual shirts. Most scientists aren't slaves to fashion.

In our case, Aunt Jen strongly recommends against wearing jeans or my new cargo pants to work. She thinks Laurie and I need a couple of light casual skirts and nice tops that are neither tight nor revealing. A few pairs of nice slacks will also be needed. I've enough clothes to get started with so most of the work clothes can be purchased once we return to California, but now is a good time to do some research so we can begin thinking about what to get.

We spend our time working our way through just a few racks of skirts and tops. We barely work our way into the store before it's time to leave, but in that time, I probably tried on half a dozen items. What is nice, is they were all items I chose. My instructors decided to see what I can do on my own. They offer comments on each selection and help me to learn what to look for.

We leave Sears without having spent a cent, but it feels as if it was a productive experience.

Before leaving the little mall where Sears is located we stop in a small bookstore and pick up a couple of teen magazines for me to study.

We get home about the same time as the Major. We all work together to pull together a quick dinner.  I help the Major with the moose burgers–yes, that is burgers made with moose meat. I'm told they are pretty common in Alaska. The moose is the result of a hunt last fall.

"So," the Major asks, "how are the 'girl lessons' going?"

I guess I should have expected this question.  It creates a problem for me, though, because I don't know how to answer it. I feel as if I'm stuck between two worlds right now. How do you explain to a guy about the realizations that have dawned in my mind today in a way he can understand them? Women have had trouble getting men to understand girl things for all time in just the same way that men have been similarly unsuccessful at explaining their motivations to women. Neither has the frame of reference necessary to fully appreciate the other's point of view. In my strange state, I still understand male views but am starting to see things differently now that I'm in a female package. It would seem that the body we inhabit may have a lot to do with how we see the world.

"I'm not sure," I admit. "I think I'm starting to see things differently now. I'm still trying to resolve the changes. From a practical standpoint, the ladies have been on me all day about little mistakes. I think the constant review is having an impact. The mistakes seem to be less noticeable, but I'm still a long way from being natural."

"What's different besides the body?" he asks with curiosity.

"I think the need to act naturally as a girl is overriding my discomfort with being a girl, if that makes sense," I say.

"Now you're talking like a girl," he laughs. "You are talking in a code that doesn't quite make sense, but maybe it does."

"I don't think anyone will understand me because I'm caught between two worlds and am confused by the unique perspectives of each," I say. "I'm still in transition, mentally."

"Whoa, that's pretty deep," he observes.

"Maybe it is," I say, "but I'm coming to realize I need to think like a girl to act like a girl. Our thoughts drive our actions. Thinking like a girl is probably easier when you have the equipment of a girl so, as I have to do things as a girl, I think I'm coming to understand why they do some of the things they do. I don't think I could have done this as well if I'd remained a guy and just been convincingly dressed as a girl and let loose.

"I supposed a guy who's transgendered sees himself as a girl in a boy's body and has already developed the thought patterns that let him act convincingly as a girl.  I haven't had that benefit, so I've got to learn in a crash course. I'm sure it really helps to have the full body to work with.

"Anyway, to get back to your first question, I think I made some progress today. The main progress is coming to the realization I have to think like a girl to survive in this body and pull off my assignment. I'm starting to see myself as a girl to some extent now. I didn't yesterday. The ladies have been a great help to me. I still have a long way to go, but I think I'm heading in the right direction."

"You do seem more comfortable in the role today," he observes, "but I can still see some of the guy in the way you carry yourself. I can probably still see it since I'm looking for it. If you keep making the same progress you did today, you should be in pretty good shape by the end of the week.

"On another subject," he changes gears, "how was the run today?"

"That went much better," I tell him. "Mrs. Harrison noticed some of the same things you did and gave me some good advice on how to run so that my body works better. I never would've thought having breasts and wide hips would make such a difference in running style.  The good news is, while I can't run as fast as I could before, I still can cover a good distance without getting wiped out.  As a matter of fact, I think this body is even better suited for distance running than my male body. I breathe better and my legs seem to not be strained at all. It's a great feeling. A couple of more runs and I should have it down. I hope I can get in more runs before I leave."

"There's a big marathon being run here on Saturday," he says. "Why don't you try the half marathon? They have a five mile race too. I think you can still register."

"I don't know about the half marathon since I haven't run that far in this body yet and my shoes are still brand new, but the five miler sounds good," I say.

"I think I can get Private Clawson–Helen–to run with you again, particularly if I give her some time off to do it," he says. "Would you mind running with her again? I'd prefer if you don't run alone while you're here."

"I'd like that," I tell him. "I don't think I'll be as much of a disappointment this time."

He laughs, "Just tell her you finally got the new shoes broken in."

At dinner, we discuss the remaining schedule for the week.

Tomorrow, Wednesday, we have a driving tour to the south planned. I need to know what the region looks like. Even the Major is going to be coming along. Too bad Tom is working or this would be a real family outing.

I ask about running, and it's suggested that I do it early in the morning.  The sun never goes much below the horizon this time of year and actually comes up somewhere around 3:30am, so early can be real early, if I like. The Major provides me with Helen's phone number so that I can call her after dinner.

Thursday morning is pretty open, so the time will be used for more girl research and training. In the afternoon, Laurie and I are going out with Ashley and a couple of her friends. That will be a real test to see how I fit in with my peer group.

On Friday, we will do another road trip to the north this time. There are only two roads into or out of Anchorage–one goes north and the other south. If we return in time, Laurie and I will go out for pizza and a movie with Tom, Ashley, and friends. I'm persuaded this won't be a date, just a time to get to know the local kids and what they like to do.

Saturday we will do the marathon run in the morning. The afternoon is pretty open at this point.  Our flight for home leaves at the ungodly hour of 1:30am on Sunday morning. Apparently, this is a busy time at the local airport.

After cleaning up from dinner I try out my new cell phone by calling Helen to see about doing some more running with her. She is agreeable, particularly when I tell her about the Major's offer for release time from work. She suggests we start around 7:30am for the next couple of days. When I ask about the marathon, she tells me tomorrow is the last day to register and there are several options that are less than the full marathon. She is running with a relay team. She cautiously asks about my run today and I told her I've broken in the new shoes and things are much better and I tell her the distance and time of today's run.  She seems relieved to hear that my running is better. We agree on a place to meet in the morning after Mom Polly agrees to let me borrow her Subaru.

After talking with Helen, I ask Aunt Jen if I can check in with the Quinn family. We decide it's best to use her cell phone so as to hide the connection between me and my family until we're reintroduced. I go out on the back deck to make the call.

My mother answers the phone. "Hi, Mrs. Quinn," I say.

"Hi, Kris," she responds. "Is everything all right?"

"Things are okay," I tell her, "at least I've gotten to go running a couple of times and will get to run part of a marathon this weekend. I just wanted to call and check in."

"It's wonderful to hear from you, sweetheart," she says, "but you must be careful about calling us. We must be absolutely sure that no one catches on to the plan or this will all be for nothing. If we have to give you up for the summer, at least it should be for some good. How are you getting along with your new family?"

"They are great," I tell her. "They are very friendly and helpful. They are good people and I like them."

She seems to sense that I'm not completely upbeat so I tell her that I still have a lot to learn about being a girl and how the Jeffers saw through my disguise. She asked how I was getting along with Laurie so I said that we had a chance to work through things but that we still had some details to figure out in our new relationship. Mom sounded relieved that we are resolving our issues.

As for family news, she and dad miss me already. Marla is happy to have the house without sibling competition, but that may come to an end because Tiff's summer job at college is not working out so she might be coming home for the rest of the summer.

Dad is not home, so I don't get a chance to talk with him, but it's good to talk with mom, even if I did leave only a couple of days ago.

We chat for about twenty minutes before saying our goodbyes.  We agree that I probably shouldn't call again until we get introduced after my arrival in California.

The rest of the evening is spent with another pajama movie party. Tonight's offering is Ice Princess. It's a great story about a young girl who follows her dream in spite of pressures to do the wise thing. You should see it if you haven't. Even the male in me could appreciate her strength of character and the kind, but loving way, she stood up to her domineering mother.  Her approach to achieving her dream was different from what a guy would do. There was also the element of ruthless female competition that, I'm told, I need to be aware of. We spent some time talking about the differences between a typical male versus typical female approach to dealing with problems before everyone headed to bed.

"Kris," Laurie comments, "you did much better today. Once you caught on to the shopping concepts, you were almost like any other girl. You're not quite as enthusiastic about it as the rest of us, but then again there are plenty of girls that aren't.  At least you're not acting like a guy–you know, standing around trying to hurry us along or fading into the woodwork. With a little more knowledge about girl's clothes you'll fit right in."

"I'm feeling more comfortable," I admit, "but I'm worried that there's so much more to learn. I'm still very nervous about making a mistake. I also still feel as if I'm invading space where I don't belong when we're looking at girls' clothes. I keep expecting someone to ask me what a guy like me is doing looking at panties. Thursday's shopping trip with Ashley has me worried and so does going out Friday night."

"Don't worry about it," she assures me, "you're doing so much better and we have more practice time before then. Remember, I'll be there with you. Let me know if you start to panic and I'll help you get through it. These things are necessary parts of your training. I think you should relax and enjoy the experience, besides this will be a fun job."

"There are some real side benefits to this new job," I admit.

"Such as?" she asks.

"I'm learning all the secret girl tricks for fooling and influencing guys," I smile. "I won't be such a push over when I return to being me. You won't be able to play those tricks on me anymore."

"Don't be so sure about that," she says while giving me sad puppy-dog eyes.

I hate it when she does that!

---< >---

Thank you Gabi for all your great suggestions.
And thank you to you readers who have sent me your thoughts. I may not use them, but they help!

Something Feels Strange…

"There are some real side benefits to this new job," I admit.

"Such as?" she asks.

"I'm learning all the secret girl tricks for fooling and influencing guys," I smile. "I won't be such a push over when I return to being me. You won't be able to play those tricks on me anymore."

"Don't be so sure about that," she says while giving me sad puppy-dog eyes.

I hate it when she does that!

Chapter 16: Dealing with Boys

I'm a little late making it to the park where Helen and I are to start our run. I got lost a couple of times trying to find my way around town. I find that Helen has already been doing her stretching exercises while she has been waiting.

"So, Kris," she asks while we both stretch, "how far do you want to go today?"

"How about eight to ten miles if it's not too hilly?" I ask.

"Sounds like the coastal trail would be best then," she replies. "We can go up to ten miles each way and it's reasonably flat. We'll just turn around whenever you're ready."

We take off down the trail at an easy pace.

"So," she asks, "are you related to the Major? He seems to be taking a special interest in you, Princess, and you look like you could be family."

Remembering the lame cover story that Laurie gave Ashley, I reply, "Actually I'm good friends with his niece and I was invited to join them on their vacation. I'm not sure how he came up with the 'Princess' name."

"Humph," she grunts unbelieving. "The Major doesn't give me time off to work out with just any visiting girl."

Okay, this is not working. What can I say? I say the only true thing that comes to mind. "Would you believe me if I told you that I can't tell you?" I ask. Heck, that line works on me.

It turns out the line also works on Helen. She changes the subject.

After hitting the coast about a mile from the cars, we turn southwest and pick up the pace. It's a beautiful day with moderate temperatures and the trail is relatively flat as it follows the coast. We have to watch out for other runners, walkers and cyclists on the paved trail.

Slowly, we continue to increase the pace, trying to find a comfortable limit for the two of us. I'm still a little awkward, particularly over the first few miles. My bouncing breasts and swishing hair are the hardest things to get used to. I can tell that Helen is keeping a close eye on me. I think she's afraid that I'll wimp out on her and we'll have to cut the run short. As the minutes tick by and my running becomes smoother, I can see her concern noticeably decrease. We do have to stop once to wait for a large moose with a calf to move away from the trail.

We maintain a light conversation as we run. She tells me more about the local area and fun things about being in the Army. (Really–she likes being in the Army!) She asks if I've registered for the race yet. I told her that I'm waiting to see how I do on the run today before I decide which version of the race that I want to run.

After turning at the five mile mark, she asks if we can pick up the pace some more.  So far, we've kept a comfortable talking pace, now it's serious business. I'm curious to find out if I can keep up with her. It turns out that I can't, so she lets me set the pace. I'm pleasantly surprised that I can sustain a six and a half minute per mile pace for at least a couple of miles before having to slow down. I was able to do better than that as a guy, but it's a respectable training pace for a high school girl. I suspect that I can knock that down another fifteen seconds per mile in a 10k race. I need to remember to thank the Wizards–if I ever actually meet them–for giving me this machine for a body.

By the time we get back to the cars, both us are pretty pleased with our run. I'm sure I could have gone further.

It seems that I passed the test because Helen invites me to join their relay team on Saturday. It turns out that they are scrambling to find a replacement for one runner from their team who got injured last week. I'm flattered with the invitation and accept.  Helen tells me how to register online then we agree to meet at the same time and same place again tomorrow.

---< >---

On my return to the house, I find everyone is up and about ready to hit the road. After a quick shower, I decide to wear my new clothes from REI so I end up in my new cargo pants and the pullover top with the long sleeves and hood. I think that I look pretty good but ask Laurie to supervise the hair and makeup session. She points out that my nail polish is wearing a bit and is the wrong color but we don't have much time just then to do anything about it.  She pops some nail polish and related supplies into my purse to take along. I think about wearing the heart pendant that Marla got me that first night, but think that the running shoe charm looks better with the outdoor clothes, plus I really like it. Looking in the mirror, I think that I could really do with some new earrings and decide to buy some the next time we go shopping.

After I register for the race, we load a picnic lunch and some light coats–provided by the Jeffers–into Aunt Jen's rented SUV then head south.  It doesn't take long to leave the city behind and we take a road sandwiched between the ocean inlet and the mountains.  It's spectacular. Eventually we find ourselves high up a mountain pass where we stop for our picnic lunch and a little hiking.

On the way back to the city, we stop at a U.S. Forest Service visitor's center; it's by a local glacier. Unfortunately the glacier has retreated around the corner of a mountain and is out of sight. You have to take a tour boat on the terminal lake to go find it, which we decide to do. The breeze off the lake coming from the glacier is cool and we're grateful for the coats that the Jeffers brought along.

There are several tourist groups and a few families that have the same idea. As we're waiting by the dock for the Major to purchase the tickets, I become aware of a group of three teenage boys who appear to be watching us.

"Ah, Laurie," I whisper to her, "I think those boys over there are watching us. What can we do to get them to go find something else to look at?"

She grins mischievously and asks, "And why would you want them to look somewhere else? The tall one's pretty cute."

"It's so creepy having their eyes follow us around," I state.

"So?" she says. "It seems to me that my boyfriend Chris likes to watch girls too. Am I right?"

She has me there. Even though we're an item, I, like any other boy, am distracted by any good looking girl that comes along.

"Well," I complain, "it just seems sooo strange being the watched instead of the watcher."

"That's because you don't know how to play the game from this side," she replies still grinning. "It's another of the girl lessons I have to teach you. First of all, you must decide what you'd like to happen. Do you want to talk with them? Do you want them to go away? Do you want to kiss them? Whatever it is, your next move depends on what you'd like to happen."

"How about the one about having them go away?" I suggest.

"That's no fun," she pouts. "All you have to do to get rid of them is just totally ignore them as if they don't exist. Don't make eye contact under any circumstances. Also, hang around a parent. Parents are the best pest repellant of all.

"However, what I–your teacher–think you need is to experience a little flirting," she declares. "Turn on the recording feature on your cell phone and we'll make this a training exercise."

"Look," I tell her as I reach into a cargo pocket to unobtrusively push the required buttons on the side of my smart cell phone, "I was never any good at flirting as a guy, why should I learn it now as a girl? Particularly when I'm not interested in striking up a relationship with these guys. That would be too weird. I already have a girlfriend and I'm not into guys."

"My boyfriend the lesbian," she rolls her eyes. "Your profile has you being a normal heterosexual tomboy girl. You'll need to be that to work yourself into the confidences of the kids we need to work with this summer. Regardless of which way you go, you need to learn how to interact with guys as a girl.  This is a good time to start practicing, particularly since these guys will be gone in an hour. Okay, we'll keep this simple. Only light flirting, just a nice it's-good-to-meet-you kind of interaction. Step number one is to look at them and smile. Either they will run for the hills or they will come to meet us. Remember, you are in control here, they are the nervous ones. It's kind of like fishing."

Some control. I'm the nervous one–much more than the boys ever thought of being. Being the hunted is much different from being the hunter.  The hunter, after all, can bail out from the operation anytime he decides that he's had enough fun. Not so for the hunted–the hunted have to find a way to escape from something that they never wanted in the first place.

Laurie shows me how it's done and I give it my best shot. I pretty sure that my smile is seen as being fake.

The reaction is interesting. One of the boys turns white and looks as if he'll run for it, the other two look pretty pleased and start heading our way, dragging the reluctant one with them.

"See," Laurie giggles as she whispers to me, "just like I said. We've hooked three fish with two smiles."

"Now that we have them, what do we do with them?" I ask nervously.

"We just play with them a little. Follow my lead," she tells me.

Just before the boys get to us, the Major comes over to give us our tickets and herd us onto the boat. Saved! But not for long.

It doesn't take too long for the three lads to find us on the tour boat.

The tall one opens the conversation, "Hi, are you girls from around here?" he asks.

"No, just visiting my relatives," Laurie replies. "How about you?"

"Joey here is from Anchorage," the tall one says pointing at the deathly white one, "My little brother, Kyle, and I are visiting from Michigan. My name is Alex."

"I'm Laurie," she says happily, "and my best friend here is Kristina. We're from California."

"Oh, I thought you were sisters," says Kyle. "You look a lot alike."

"We get that a lot," Laurie replies looking at me with a look that implies that I should join the conversation.

"I guess that we're close enough that we could be," is the best that I can come up with.

"Well, it's a good thing that you two are from different families," says Alex. "It would be unfair to the rest of the world to have all the beauty tied up in just one family."

Laurie blushes and giggles. I feel like gagging. That line was just too cheesy. What's next? Is he going to try showing off his biceps or start beating on his chest? We don't have to wait long to find out.

"You two look like you're cold," Kyle observes. "If you want to warm up, we can cuddle on that seat over there out of the wind. I think that there's room in our coats for the two of you."

How considerate! Not. That line is too much, even for Laurie.

"Thanks for the offer," Laurie politely says, "but my uncle has extra coats for us."

Looking over the rail, I suggest, "You can take your coat and cuddle with one of the little icebergs bobbing around in the lake. They look cold."

Laurie jabs me in the ribs with her elbow and glares at me. "Don't mind Tina. She is having a bad day. Are you guys in town for long?" she asks them sweetly, trying to repair the damage.

Tina? I guess you can get that out of Kristina, but why is she using that?

"That's okay, Tina," Kyle apologizes, "I guess that line was a bit strong. Sorry about that."

Laurie is trying to give me signals with her eyes. What am I supposed to do now?

"Ah, well, thanks for the offer anyway," I say. Apparently, that isn't quite the right line.

"What Tina is trying to say," Laurie says with a stern look at me, "is that she appreciates that you're looking out for our comfort. That's sweet of you."

"Yea," I lie, "that's what I meant." I want to gag. This verbal sparring seems so lame. Can't Laurie see that these guys are just viewing us as a conquest?

About this point in the introductions, the boys decide Laurie is the more sociable one and strike up a happy conversation with her. They engage in the verbal dance people use to find out the other's intentions. I attempt to keep up with the interchange, trying to figure out what Laurie is up to. You'd think she was scouting for a new boyfriend. This doesn't improve my mood at all.

I finally give up and look over the rail at the lake and snow covered mountains. I find myself standing next to Joey.

"Sorry about that," he apologizes. "My friends can be jerks at times."

"I can see that," I reply icily. Joey seems like a decent sort of guy. Maybe I should cut him some slack.

"So what do you do for fun around here?" I ask with more warmth.

"If you're an outdoors person," he says, "Alaska is heaven. I like doing just about anything outdoors. Mountain hiking is high on my list, then there's kayaking, canoeing, fishing, hunting, four wheelers, skiing, and snow machining. I also like outdoor photography. Alex and Kyle wanted to see a glacier and this is the closest one to town, so I'm playing tour guide today. I think their favorite pastimes are computer games and annoying pretty girls. I can't seem to get them out to do anything active."

Joey seems like an okay guy. I think he'd make a good friend if I were still a guy.

"Have you lived here long?" I ask to be polite.

"Born and raised," he says. "We go Outside–that's an Alaskan term for the rest of the world–once or twice a year to visit relatives and stuff, but otherwise this is home. So how about you? Is California the only place you've lived?"

"Pretty much," I say. "We moved around a lot when I was little, but I don't remember much of that. We've been where we are now for about seven years."

"What do you do for fun in California?" he asks. "You don't look like a mall bunny to me."

"Why do you say that?" I ask.

"Well, you aren't all girly," he observes, "you're fit, and you look comfortable with being outside. And you're easier to talk to than most girls I've met."

"I'll take that as a compliment," I say, "And as far as what I do in California, I hang out with my friends, go hiking and camping when I can. I do a little fishing, but have never been hunting. I like messing with canoes and small sailboats too, but my favorite thing in the world is distance running."

"That must be why you wear the running shoe around your neck," he observes.

I look at him strangely.

"Sorry, Tina, that came out wrong," he blushes furiously. He looks cute when he is flustered. "I meant your necklace. It has a running shoe charm on it."

We continue our conversation until the boat takes us past the glacier and the tour guide spouts all sorts of interesting facts. Joey is fun to talk to–kind of like some of my guy friends at home. Laurie and the other two boys join us on the ride back to the visitor's center. Alex and Kyle seem to have dropped their cool guy facade, to some extent, and tell us all about life in Michigan. Joey is right, they don't get out of the house much.

The Michigan lads ask if we can get together again before we leave, but we tell them we're pretty booked for the rest of the week. Somehow, we mention the race on Saturday and Joey asks which leg of the relay I'm running. I don't know and tell him so.

As Laurie and I walk back to the car behind the adults, I have several questions I'd like to ask. What comes out is: "Tina? Why Tina?"

Laurie blushes and looks nervous, "Well, I thought if I called you Tina, it would be easier for me to flirt with the guys to show you how it's done.  I tried to block out of my mind that you're Chris–my boyfriend–and view you as Tina my girl friend. It just felt too awkward calling you Kris and flirting with another guy with you standing there. Kris is just too close to Chris. Do you mind?"

"In other words, you were trying to pretend I'm not your boyfriend in disguise and calling me 'Tina' helps you do that," I reflect. "I'll have to think about 'Tina'. Watching you toy with another guy in front of me hurts. I'd hate to think that's what you do when I'm not around."

"Sorry, Kris," she apologizes, "Really, I don't do that any more. Honest. I was just trying to show you how it's done."

"Okay," I say reluctantly, "but why on earth did you fall for those cheesy lines? I wanted to gag."

"I knew they were cheesy," she says, "but a girl likes to be flattered sometimes and it's so much fun watching boys make fools of themselves. Why d'you think we giggle so much around guys? When you slam the door on them like you did, that only kills any chance of getting to know them. You have to survive the cheese to get to the real person. Sometimes it takes a while and, even then, it's just part of the game. Look at your parents. They are cheesy to each other all the time. I think it's so cute and it shows that they really love each other. You could learn from them."

Well, that's a none too gentle hint. I'll have to remember to get cheesy with her when I get back to being me.

"Your problem back there," she continues, "is that you were thinking like a guy again. Try thinking like a girl who likes someone to notice her. Your responses would've been different if you did. You would view the cheesy as a sign that someone thinks you're worth talking to."

"From my guy perspective," I reply, "I see it as a guy just trying to get something that the girl probably shouldn't be giving away. It makes me sick. Don't you understand that Alex and Kyle were just trying to score some points with their guy friends. If they could have gotten to kiss us, or, gag, gotten to cuddle with us they would've spread it all over town about how cool they are. Their main goal was to see how far they could go with us in a short time. Haven't you ever seen the movie Top Gun where Maverick and Goose make the bet about scoring with a girl when they go in the bar? They're not interested in the girl or her feelings, just how far they can go with her. That's what those jerks were trying to do–they just wanted to satisfy their hormonal urges. I've never really understood how you girls can fall for such Neanderthal jerks and the lines they feed you. Believe it or not, they don't often have your best interests in mind."

"Believe it or not, my boyfriend in a girl package, girls are often looking for the same thing the guys are," she points out. "Girls have hormones and get sexually excited too you know. You might just find out what it's like if all those female hormones in your current body ever influence you. We don't often show our desire as openly as guys do because the consequences of sexual activity have greater impact on girls than boys, both physically and socially."

I'd never really thought about girls being as sexually motivated as guys. That only seems to happen in movies. I find it rather creepy thinking I could be aroused by a guy while in this body. I just can't see that happening. What I can see is where my male perspective might come in useful in this female package. I'll understand the intentions and motivations of guys better than any other girl around. I won't fall for the cheesy lines. I don't think Laurie was completely immune from the charms of those two egotistical Neanderthals. With my male understanding, I'll be inoculated against the fake male charms.

Changing gears slightly, she observes, "Well, you seemed to find a boy to talk to."

"Joey's a nice guy," I defend. "Talking with him was like hanging out with one of my male friends. He wasn't trying to impress me with cheese, he was just a good guy. None of this sexual tension stuff."

"At least not on your side," she says.

"What do you mean by that," I demand.

"I'll bet Joey won't be able to stop thinking about you for a long time," she tells me. "Didn't you notice how he hung on your every word? I bet he's thinking that he's just found the most amazing girl in the world–one that he can relate to and he is kicking himself thinking he let you get away."

"You have to be kidding," I exclaim.

"I'm not," she replies. "We can listen to the recording and you'll see what I mean. As far as I can tell, good boys–you included–fall for nice girls who appear not to be playing games, even if they are. Remember the picture he had taken of our little group by Uncle Bill? Joey also took a couple more of just you from across the boat with his zoom lens while you were looking at the glacier. I bet one of them'll be his computer desktop and the rest will be in his screen saver by tonight. Remember he promised to email us the group image?  I bet you hear from him more than once. You shouldn't have given him your email address. You've gotten your first admirer."

"But we're just friends," I mutter.

"Yeah," she smiles, "get used to it, when you're a girl, it's hard to be 'just friends' with any guy you didn't grow up with. They all get the wrong idea. If you want to flirt with a guy though, don't worry, I won't get jealous. I know Chris'll be back at the end of the summer and, somehow, I don't see Tina stealing my Chris from me."

---< >---

Gabi has again done much to make this a more enjoyable reading experience.  Thanks again, my friend.

---< >---

On another note, I always feel cheated when an author leaves a story unfinished, even if I can understand the reasons why. Now I will be the offender.

This story was never meant to go this far and it has taken on a life of its own. Indeed I would love nothing more than to immerse myself in it until it is done. I enjoy learning of Chris/Kris/Tina's adventure as the words flow from my finger tips just as much as many of you seem to enjoy reading them.  Alas, this is not the only thing in my life. Life's pressures of work, family, volunteer commitments, a university class that I am taking, and more cannot be put on the shelf so that I can finish this in a timely fashion. 

An old song, "Think I'll Write a Song", by Helen Reddy describes my situation pretty well.

As I work in education, I do get large time blocks that I can devote to special projects.  I fully intend on using this time for working on this project until it reaches a good conclusion, but in the mean time, this will be the last chapter for at least a few months.

Sorry... This hurts me too.  Please be patient and support all the other more experienced and fantastic writers that entertain us on this site.

Thanks to all of you for your wonderful support.

I'll be back!

- Tiff

 

Something Feels Strange…

"But we're just friends," I mutter.

"Yeah," she smiles, "get used to it, when you're a girl, it's hard to be 'just friends' with any guy you didn't grow up with. They all get the wrong idea. If you want to flirt with a guy though, don't worry, I won't get jealous. I know Chris'll be back at the end of the summer and, somehow, I don't see Tina stealing my Chris from me."

Chapter 17: Odds & Ends

After leaving the visitor's center we head back towards Anchorage with a stop off in a local ski town, Girdwood. We walk around looking at the few shops open for the summer tourists before going to dinner at a popular local restaurant.

In one of the gift shops, Mom Polly buys me a pair of earrings shaped like puffins. They are not the dangly earrings that I'd like to get, but I think they're quite cute and very Alaskan. The shop had a pair of dangly 'moose nugget' earrings which Laurie tries to get me to purchase, but wearing moose droppings just doesn't excite me–they are weird. I do, however, get a pair of Alaska jade earrings in a tear drop shape that look pretty nice. They are also expensive–the Lab is paying for this so I might as well get something nice. I don't think that I should let the security team off cheap–they owe me. Not to mention they'll make a nice present for Laurie when this is all over.

We get back to the house a little after 9 o'clock. Tom is out with Ashley tonight so we have the house to ourselves again. The strange thing is, since the sun is still high in the sky, it still feels as if it is mid-afternoon. In the three days I've been here, I've yet to see darkness. That just seems wrong somehow.

After getting ready for bed we decide to skip on the movie tonight–thank goodness! I don't know if I could handle another girl movie tonight though I did find the last two more fun than I would have thought. I think that the reason that they were more interesting is that I was viewing them as training films. I found myself paying more attention to the details–clothes, hair, makeup, attitudes, and the like–than I might otherwise. I still like a good action adventure film better.

Sitting on our bed together Laurie is showing me the finer points of applying nail polish. It is an involved process. She shows me how to clean off the old polish then extracts about half a dozen colors out of her makeup bag for us to choose from. She shows me how to do my own fingers and offers tips as I start to mess things up. I try several times before getting it close to right.

After working on my fingers she does my toes and has me do hers. Aside from the smell of acetone we have a pretty good time chatting while we work. We also listen to the recording of our conversations on the boat that we took with the cell phone.

"See," she says, "didn't you notice how nervous Joey sounds at times? He must have put his foot in his mouth at least a half dozen times."

"So," I say, "the guy has a hard time talking. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal," she says patiently, "is that Joey was nervous as hell. He has it bad for you, girl. I bet that you'll have a message from him if we fire up the computer and check your email."

While we are waiting for the paint on our toenails to dry we boot up the laptop and connect with the Jeffers' wireless router. Sure enough, there is an email from Joey with the group picture attached. It is a nice picture of the five of us with the glacier in the background.  There is also a nice candid portrait of me gazing at the scenery which I don't remember him taking.

Seeing myself as Joey must see me is unsettling. I am still not used to looking in the mirror as Kristina so my first impression of the picture is that the girl looks pretty hot. Then I connect–she is me! Brain central is scrambling in confusion. It doesn't know what message to send. It feels as if it losing its grip on me. Like a man dangling from a cliff desperately trying to hold on to his rescuer's hand, brain central feebly screams: You're a boy! That is not really you. Somehow brain central doesn't really sound convinced by its own statement. I can feel the grip on what's left of my maleness slipping away.

After all, here I sit on a bed wearing a girl's nightshirt, with a beautiful girl in her nightshirt, painting our toenails, talking about boys and looking an email from a male admirer. And, most distressing to me is the fact that I am enjoying the experience–for the most part.

Like the man hanging from the cliff, I am afraid of the ramifications of letting go.

The only thing helping me hold on at this point is the fact that this is all temporary. I will be pulled back to safety in a couple of months. Things will go back to normal.

Or will they?

What is normal anyway?

Laurie notices me staring at the picture and brings me back to the real world. "You look pretty in that picture, don't you?"

"Is that really me?" I ask in wonder.

"Yes it is, sweetie," she replies, "you're a regular heartbreaker. Hey, why don't you make that group picture your desktop image? After all, you should have something that shows you having fun in Alaska."

"I like the one of  you and me in front of the tour boat better," I say. We had the Major take the image with my cell phone. We look like best girl friends, with our arms around each other and smiling. Laurie looks stunning in the picture. I guess I don't look too bad either. "I'll use that one."

Joey wants to know if I've found out yet which leg of the race I'll be running on Saturday. He said that they might come to watch.

Maybe Laurie is right about Joey. He is a nice guy but I need to end this–NOW. I can't have some guy following me around like a sick puppy.

"How do I get him to be just a friend?" I ask. I am way out of my depth here. Heck I had a hard enough time dealing with boy/girl interaction as a boy. I am totally unprepared to deal with this from the other side of the fence. I can't even find any of my past boy experiences that will help me with this one. The few girls that I've had a crush on over the years, with the exception of Laurie, have all put me down pretty hard.  It wasn't fun.

"That is not easy to do," she says. "Once a boy is bitten by the love bug he can be very hard to get rid of. You can play it nice and emphasize the let's-just-be-friends idea, you can ignore him, or you can be direct and tell him to get lost. It all depends on how you want to look. You might have to act like a bitch and use the direct approach if the nice approaches don't work. Sometimes, guys just don't get the hint no matter what you do. You are lucky that you will be gone in a couple of days and he can't follow you."

I decide to reply to his email, thanking him for the images and letting him know that I enjoyed making a new friend, just like all my other friends. I don't mention the race at all. Maybe he'll get the hint that I don't want him following me around. It is best if we make the break now. I wish him the best and sign off.

"That was pretty subtle," Laurie observes. "I don't think that he'll get the message."

"As a guy," I inform her, "I've never appreciated girls getting nasty just because I wanted to be friendly. I still think that he is just being nice."

"I think that poor Joey is in love," she states dramatically holding her hands over her heart. "We'll see what you think about 'being nice' after you've been hit on by every guy in sight. You might get a little bitchy too. Being hit on all the time can get pretty old pretty fast. You're cute so it won't take long for you to see what I mean."

Oh joy! Something to look forward to.

---< >---

I am the first one to the park this morning. As I am stretching two rather fit looking guys in exercise clothing and sporting military haircuts approach me. A quick check of my surroundings show that there are other people nearby but I don't know these guys and am wary. 

"Hi, Kristina," one of them says. The voice sounds familiar.

"Who are you?" I ask, looking for an escape route.

"I'm Carl and this is Manuel," he says by way of introduction. "We were on your protection team the other day. Helen says that she recruited you for our relay team this weekend so we thought we'd come check you out."

Now that last statement could have a double meaning.  I'll have to watch these guys.

"Hey, Chica," Manuel says in greeting. "Need any more bug dope?"

Helen didn't tell me who was on the race team and I didn't think to ask. "Sorry, I didn't recognize you without your weapons."

While these guys look pretty fit neither of them looks like a distance runner. I guess the Army trains these guys in all-round fitness–not a specialty like distance running.

Helen shows up at this point in the conversation, "I see you've met the rest of the team, Kristina. They wanted to run with you today to see if you are as good as I said you are. Why don't we see if these two jocks can keep up with a couple of girls?"

The guys just roll their eyes. "No problemo, Killer," says Manuel.

I look questioningly at Helen, "Killer?"

"Don't ask, Princess," she replies. Pointing to Manuel she says, "This one is called Jalapeno, the other we call Spud."

They guys pick up on the 'Princess' nickname and it sticks–unfortunately.

We end up running eight miles. While the guys have great endurance they are not fast. Helen and I have no trouble beating them back to the car when we decide to make a race out of the last couple of miles. Even though Helen left me in the dust on the very last mile it was a good run.

While we are cooling down we discuss the race and decide that each of us will only do a short easy run on our own tomorrow in preparation. We also decide that Carl–Spud–will do the first leg of the race, Helen–Killer–will run the second leg which is the longest and most difficult, I–Princess–will do the third leg, and Manuel–Jalapeno–will finish the race on the short five mile last leg. Killer will pick up the bibs the day before and we will get ours from her when we meet up just before the race. Those not running will ferry between the relay exchange points in Spud's SUV. Since we are registered for the military service division we agree to wear our Airborne T-shirts as our unofficial uniform. I don't need to worry about getting lost on the course as it is well marked and there will be almost four thousand runners starting the race so there should be people to follow. Regardless, I intend to study the race route map before Saturday. I am looking forward to the race since it will be–almost–a return to normal for me.

---< >---

Returning to the house I find that Laurie is monopolizing the bathroom. Knocking on the door I ask, "Is everything alright in there?"

I get back a short, "No!" She does not sound happy.

Surprised, I ask if I can help.

"If you want to help you can bring me a tampon or a sanitary pad," she says through the door. "I also need a fresh pair of panties from my underwear drawer." She doesn't sound happy.

I find the required objects in our room and take them across the hall to the bathroom. Not knowing what she prefers I brought her both a pad and a tampon. Knocking on the door I inform her that I have her supplies and she invites me to bring them in.

Cautiously, I open the door to find her sitting on the toilet with a towel over her lap.  A pair of blood stained panties are soaking in cold water in the sink. Laurie looks very unhappy.

"Welcome to the 'glamorous' side of being a girl," she says sarcastically. "I wasn't expecting this for several more days."

Doc Hilary gave me the big talk about periods on the flight up but that was all academic. Seeing Laurie sitting there brings it home to me that this will be happening to me–and very soon too!

Not knowing what to say, I leave her with her supplies and skedaddle out of the room.

A few minutes later Laurie comes to the bedroom carrying the wrung out panties and her shorts. She is wearing a towel around her waist.

"Sorry about that, Tina," she apologizes. "I just hate being caught off guard."

"Does it hurt?" I ask.

"No–at least not this time," she replies. "My periods have been a little irregular. Sometimes I get cramps that hurt like hell but today I was thinking that I only had a mildly upset stomach from something I ate. The worst part is dealing with the blood. Blood is yucky. I expect that you'll be finding out what it's like before too long."

I had told her yesterday about my medical exam and the fact that my period was not too far off. 

"How can you function with this happening?" I ask.

"You have to remember, Kris," she continues, "that I've had this happen to me every month that I have known you. Your mother and sisters also have this happen monthly. Do you ever see them slow down because of it? I imagine that most of the time you never even have a clue when any of us are on the rag. It is pretty personal and we are pretty good about keeping it undercover–especially from guys. You just learn to live with it."

"Well, I'm getting a bit apprehensive about getting mine," I tell her.

"We are all apprehensive the first time," she says, "but you've actually had more instruction than some girls get.  Heck you even know that it's imminent. My first time was a total surprise. You may not know exactly when it will happen for you but at least you know that it will happen soon and can be ready for it."

"I guess," I respond unconvinced. "I just hope that it doesn't happen at a bad time."

"There is never a good time," Laurie laughs. "That's why we keep track of the timing.  I usually start wearing pads when I think that mine is about to come so that I don't end up with the big mess you just saw. Why don't you start wearing one now so that you can get used to the feel of them? We need to go buy you some soon. I wouldn't try tampons until you have too."

"Can you show me how?" I ask.

"Sure. We can do it after your shower," she replies. "Can I have a few minutes to get dressed?"

"Oh, yeah," I reply. "Let me grab my shower stuff and I'll be out of here."

Unfortunately, Tom has taken over the shower room, so I drop my stuff outside the door and wander downstairs.

Picking up the copy of Seventeen I spend twenty minutes studying current girls' fashions and hair style tips while waiting for Tom to get out of the shower.

By the time I return to our room after my shower, Laurie is looking to be in much better shape than she was earlier.

She hands me a curved shape piece of paper padding and tells me that it a panty liner. These are, she tells me, used for light discharge days, not for full on periods. Apparently there are days other than periods when there is discharge down below and these help keep things under control.  What a hassle! 

"Tear off the cover strip on the back," she instructs me, "then just stick it to the crotch of your panties.  Make sure that you center it well and don't put it too far forward or backward.  It needs to fit as comfortably as possible in your crotch and be centered on your vagina."

Okay, so I do have some feel for where my vagina is, so I  ask her to turn around as I drop my jeans and panties.  It takes a little adjustment until I get it reasonably right. The liner is not particularly comfortable but at least it is bearable. I still can't get over having nothing in the way down there. It feels so foreign to be able to run my hand over my crotch and feel nothing but smoothness.

"This feels sooo strange," I comment.

"Don't worry, Tina," she says, "you'll get used to it soon enough."

"It's not exactly comfortable," I observe.

"You're right," she grins, "but it is a lot more comfortable than a bloody mess. You need to remember to change the pad often when things start flowing. They only hold so much, you know, and they become soggy feeling. Real sanitary pads are more bulky and even less comfortable."

"When do you use tampons?" I ask. "Are they more comfortable?"

"Tampons are a pain to insert," she says. "What is good about them is that they keep everything inside of you and they don't move around like a pad does when you are being active. There is less chance for leakage. They are a good choice when you are being active–like running or swimming–during your period. They are not as noticeable and harder to remember to change. They're not really too bad, but I don't like dealing with them if I don't have too. And, before you ask, Tina, I won't show you how to insert one. You are going to have to read the box and try it yourself. It's not that hard."

"Oh," I say, "What's with the Tina stuff?"

"I hope you don't mind," she replies cautiously, "but I got thinking about yesterday and thought calling you Tina will help me to see you more as a girl than as a boy in girl's body when we are interacting girl to girl. I don't mind talking with a girl about periods but it is embarrassing to talk with my boyfriend about them in this detail.  Is that all right?"

I've been thinking about the Tina thing too. Thinking of myself as Tina might help me to change my perspective so that I can start thinking and acting like a real girl.

"Sure," I reply, "I can live with that."

"Thanks," she says as she gives me a friendly hug. I miss the friendly kiss that I used to get from her after we've come to some agreement.

---< >---

Tom is waiting for us when we arrive downstairs. 

"Hey, girls," he says, "Ashley called to say that she will be by about one o'clock to pick you up. You'll meet up with the rest of the gang at the mall. I don't know what you girls see in shopping but I hope that you have fun. About tomorrow night, a bunch of us from the swim team have decided to check out a flick at the Bear Tooth Theatre. While we don't have dates, per se, for you there will be several guys and girls there without dates so you should fit in quite nicely."

I feel VERY relieved to know that I don't have a blind date tomorrow night. I can handle hanging out with a group of teens. Being paired up with some guy freaks me out. As the week is progressing it seems that small miracles are bursting out all over. I don't want to repeat last weekend for a long time! Being constantly off balance is not fun. Now it feels as if I am starting to get a little traction and it is a good feeling.

"No problem," Laurie says. "After all, I have a boyfriend back home and it would be hard to explain to him that I was going out on a date with someone else. We have a special bond," she winks at me, "and somehow I think that he would figure it out if I were to date someone else."

As Chris, I also have someone special in my life, however as 'Tina' I only have a good best girl friend. An interesting thought crosses my mind: if I date as Tina will Laurie see that as being different than Chris dating someone else?  I could develop a split personality if I'm not too careful.

"I'm not really the dating type anyway," I say, "but I do like hanging out with friends."

He goes on to tell us about the Bears Tooth Theatrepub.  It is trendy theatre/restaurant–you order your food before going into the theatre and they bring it in to you when it is ready. They have some pretty unique pizzas and sandwiches to choose from. Every seat is at a table where you eat while you watch the movie. They show a variety of films from really old, to locally produced, to independent, to recently run. They rarely show a movie more than twice. Tomorrow's film is the most recent James Bond flick which has been out of the theatres for some time now.

"I've seen that one," I tell him, "but would love to see it again."

Laurie doesn't seem so thrilled but is amenable to the proposition. I think that the draw for her is meeting and hanging out with the local kids.

"We'll have to get there early to get a good seat so we need to make sure that we get back from our expedition tomorrow in time," he says. Tom is traveling with us tomorrow since he has the day off.

Over the next hour, Laurie and I spend time quizzing him about life in Alaska. The stories of the dark and cold of winter make us happy to be Californians. He assures us that it is actually quite fun–if you are prepared for it. He has actually gone camping in subzero–Fahrenheit–temperatures!

As the conversation progresses it becomes clear to me that Tom and I would have made great friends had things been different. My temporary physical gender and the lack of time get in the way of that now. Some of his adventures sound intriguing and I would like to try some of them.  I make a mental note to come back to Alaska when I have time for some outdoor adventure–as a guy.

Yes... I like Tom. He is a good guy and comfortable to be around. Throughout the conversation Laurie has to send me silent signals to remind me to not slip back into boy mode while we talk. I find myself slipping back towards guy mode as we relax around each other. I think Tom likes talking to a girl who acts more like a guy–he is obviously not trying to impress me, just normal guy to guy talk.  It feels good.

---< >---

Thanks again to Gabi who continues to teach me about writing.

 

 

Something Feels Strange…

Yes... I like Tom. He is a good guy and comfortable to be around. Throughout the conversation Laurie has to send me silent signals to remind me to not slip back into boy mode while we talk. I find myself slipping back towards guy mode as we relax around each other. I think Tom likes talking to a girl who acts more like a guy–he is obviously not trying to impress me, just normal guy to guy talk.  It feels good.

Chapter 18: Shopping With The Girls

"You really need to express your feminine side more." The platinum blonde pouts as she holds up a micro-mini skirt and an impossibly skimpy top for me to model for the group.

"Maybe so," I respond, "but that's going a bit too far for me. Why don't you try it? It'll probably look great on you."

I find myself in the company of four of my new peers in a trendy boutique store in Alaska's largest shopping mall–which isn't saying much. Laurie and Ashley make up half the group with the balance consisting of Shelly and Kimi–my current tormentor. It turns out that all three Alaskan girls must be very popular judging from all the people that seem to know them–you can't walk down the hall without them being greeted by a number of other kids.

"And I thought that all you California girls were up on the latest fashions," Shelly adds, sounding disappointed. I think that she was hoping to learn something from us.

Ashley, Shelly and Kimi are reasonably trim and seem intent on showing off their bodies as much as they can. Kimi is wearing clothes similar to what she wants me to try on along with three-inches heel and enough jewelry and makeup to overload a camel. Shelly is wearing skin tight black leather pants that leave nothing to the imagination, stiletto four-inch heels, and a thin tight top that shows off her large bust to anyone that cares to look–and anyone else that looks her way. Ashley is the most conservative of the Alaskan bunch with tight, extremely low cut jeans and a top that stops just above her navel and shows enough cleavage so that there is no doubt that she is a girl–as if the curves weren't enough of an indicator.

I suspect that if these girls were caught outdoors that they would make superb mosquito bait.

"Laurie knows more than I do," I say. "I've just never gotten into the clothes scene too much. I'm more of an outdoors girl." I thought that Alaska girls would be too. There is definitely a clash in expectations here.

Both Laurie and I are wearing our hipster jeans and tops that actually cover our midriffs. Mine has a more conservative neckline than does Laurie's, but she is more accustomed to this sort of thing.  Also, I doubt that Aunt Jen would have let us out of the house wearing anything similar to what these other girls are wearing. Laurie is wearing her sandals and I have on my running shoes which don't seem to pass muster with the locals.

"Well," Laurie hedges, "I think the skirt is cute but our mothers would never let us wear one that short. As far as the top goes, Tina really needs a top that doesn't accentuate how small her bust is." As if I'd like to have a larger bust!

We've been wandering through the mall for an hour, getting a feel for each other's personal preferences. We have all tried on several outfits but no one has spent any money yet. And, yes, I did try on one of the short skirts and a revealing top. The skirt did look cute on the girl in the mirror but I felt way too exposed. The top also added to my discomfort. I assume that feeling comfortable walking around nearly naked requires some conditioning.

"You really need to get a push up bra, girl," Ashley suggests, "if you want to get noticed."

I wonder why would I want to 'get noticed' and by whom. Besides, we did buy one for me during our midnight shopping extravaganza in California. I just haven't felt the need to wear it yet.

"You should see what happens to poor Tom when I wear one," she giggles. "He gets pretty distracted."

This shopping trip is not going all that well. In fact, I think I preferred shopping with the older women.

The thought of new lingerie prompts an exodus from the boutique to a lingerie store down the way. As we approach the store entrance Laurie realizes that I am beginning to get tense. She puts her arm around my shoulders and gives me a friendly squeeze while she whispers in my ear: "You can do this. It's fun! Just think like Tina."

Like I'm supposed to know how Tina would think?

Crossing the threshold of a lingerie store is like passing through an emotional force field.  All guys know the feeling. While we are unquestionably interested in the contents of such a store–or should I say, interested in seeing a girl wear the items found in such a store–actually entering a lingerie store is one of the hardest things that most guys will ever have to do. That is if they can actually do it. There is a huge social stigma against guys shopping for female underwear. For girls, on the other hand, it is another story–they love it and I can see why.  The colors and styles are endless. There is a lot of opportunity to express yourself creatively–if you are a girl.

We're barely inside the door before the girls are pawing through the sales table looking for that perfect pair of panties, temporarily forgetting about the bra search that led us here. They hold likely pairs up in front of themselves trying to decide what they would look like on their bodies.

Laurie holds up a black lacy thong, "Tina, doesn't this look good? It would go with that black dress of yours. I could use a pair like this myself."

I turn a bright shade of red.

"You really are a tomboy, aren't you?" Shelly observes. "Don't you have anything like that?"

"Ah, n-n-no," I stammer. 

"Like I said," Kimi remarks, "you really need to start bringing out your feminine side. New lingerie will help you get more into being a girl instead of a cave woman."  I think she might be getting tired of my conservative nature and hesitancy about wearing clothes that scream GIRL.

"Half the fun of being a girl," Shelly informs me, "is that we get to have some fun with our clothes. Come on, Tina, let's help you blossom into the girl that you were born to be. You are much too cute to hide behind frumpy clothes."

And I thought that my current outfit was far from frumpy. I begin to think that her definition of blossoming will involve lots of exposed skin and painted-on fabric where covering is required by law.

I realize that Shelly has found her mission for the day. I can tell by the look in her eyes that no way is she going to take 'no' for an answer. I look to Laurie for backup, but it seems that she is in general agreement with Shelly, although she is not going to get forceful with me.

"Maybe," Shelley continues, "we can find some middle ground here, but not in the lingerie department.  Sexy lingerie is the basis for feeling feminine all over but needs to be chosen for the outfit. How about we help you find out how good it feels to look sexy? If you don't like it, then we'll back off. The search will give some focus to our shopping."

"I think that sounds like a great idea," agrees Ashley. Kimi grins as she nods in agreement. Laurie just shrugs her shoulders.

"Okay," I say warily, "but I don't want to look like a hooker. It needs to be nice. And only one outfit. It has to be the perfect one."

Apparently, this is the ultimate shopping challenge. Purchase only one outfit, but it has to be perfect.

Laurie pipes up, "What occasion should we be shooting for?"

"How about tomorrow night's movie?" suggests Ashley. "She should look smoking hot for the swim team guys. In fact, I think that we all should dress up a bit more than we would normally and watch what it does to the guys."

Apparently Kimi and Shelly are also part of the group going out tomorrow night. In fact, they have been talking about the good and bad qualities of some of the guys as we've worked our way through the mall. They've also dished a few of the girls. I get the sense that there is a bit of rivalry among the females. For what?–I'm not really sure.

"Alright," Kimi summarizes, "hot but not for sale. That's what we want. She needs to look good and still be a challenge. Be careful, Ashley, you don't want her to steal Tom from you."

"I'll take care of Tom," she says with a wink, "don't worry about him."

"I think that all of us should find the perfect outfits for tomorrow," I suggest hoping that broadening the challenge will take some of the attention away from me.

"Great idea!" Laurie agrees, catching on to what I'm trying to do. "This will be a great challenge, but we need to start with the clothes first as Shelley suggested then we can find the perfect lingerie to go with it."

Now that we have some focus, the group coalesces and we start working our way through the various stores and boutiques in the mall on our quest. With a sense of mission, the eagerness of the group is contagious and we are getting along better after our rocky start. As we work our way through the various stores, even I start to lighten up and actually begin looking through racks and stacks for the perfect items that would make a guy like Chris drool over a girl like Tina. As I think about it, a push-up bra might be just the ticket. Chris would be distracted by a bigger chest than Tina's. We all try on many different outfits with the collective group providing critique of each one.

Kimi is the first to strike gold; as expected, the short denim skirt and tube top she chose shows off way more skin than either Laurie or I would be comfortable with.  Kimi is pretty excited and says that she has the perfect heels to go with the outfit at home. I think she looks pretty hot.  I find myself staring at her when Laurie gives me an elbow in the ribs to get my attention. Her eyes communicate that I am starting to act like a guy again and that I need to quit staring. I guess that I'm still not seeing girls in the same way a girl would. My sixteen years of masculinity is showing.

With her purchases in hand, Kimi provides support for the rest of us.

The next to score is Laurie. She keeps looking to me for approval. I guess this is my big chance to dress her how Chris would like to have her dress. As Chris, I have never gone for the tight fitting slutty look on girls.  As a matter of fact I think that Laurie looks great in the colorful loose fitting skirt she is currently wearing.  The hem falls a couple of inches above the knee. The top she end up with is a peasant blouse that has half length sleeves and shows a hint of cleavage.  She finds a pair of white open toed strappy sandals with two inch heels to compliment the outfit. She looks also hot. I hope she wears it many times when Chris returns.

The other girls all agree that my very slender form screams out for a short skirt but I resist. I suggest a couple of pant suit options without any success. I finally agree to a sundress that ends about three inches above the knee. It has a spaghetti straps holding the top up and shows off my shoulders but no cleavage.  The fabric is white with black and turquoise geometric patterns on it that I really like. While I am not at all accustomed to loose fitting clothes that allow a breeze up my legs I have to admit that the dress looks pretty good on Tina. A pair of white leather open-toed strappy sandals with thick soles and two inch heels complete the look. The girls try to get me to get something with a taller heel, but there is no way that I could walk around in something like that without significant practice. I have to remove my bra to wear this dress.  I am either going to have to go without a bra or get a strapless one. While my breasts are relatively small and firm, they do jiggle when I move so it looks as if a strapless one will be needed.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I am amazed at how different I look in a dress to how I did in the jeans and top. Tina would definitely have gotten Chris's attention if he were here. I'm also scared to move for fear of falling. I almost fell on my face walking over to the mirror from the dressing room. With this short dress I'm sure that I will give quite a show if I take a fall.

"You don't have any heels, do you?" Kimi states more than asks. "I can't understand how a cute girl like you could have avoided real clothes for so long." The she then takes it upon herself to instruct me on how to walk wearing girl shoes. She has me walking all around the shop while the others continue the quest for Ashley and Shelly.

"Don't you own any dresses?" she asks. "You don't seem very comfortable in that one."

"Yes," I respond, "I have a couple of dresses but I haven't really worn them much. I'm pretty partial to pants. Also, I do own a pair of heels but I don't use them much either."

Kimi rolls her eyes. "Girl, don't you realize what a great body you have? It deserves to be flaunted. You're a real knock out when you dress up. It always feels good to look your best. Add the right makeup, style your hair a bit, and added some nice jewelry and I bet all the boys will be tripping over each other to get your attention tomorrow night."

Looking in the mirror I can see what she says about the need for work on my makeup, hair, and jewelry. While I really like my running necklace–which I am, of course, wearing right now–the heart shape pendent would be a better choice with this dress. I'm thinking that I might need to expand my jewelry collection as I expand my wardrobe.

Kimi has me let my hair down from its ponytail and–wow!–what a difference. I'd be tongue-tied around me if I were still a guy. Yep, Chris would be seriously distracted–even with Laurie around. I can see where some nice dangly earrings will look sensational. I resolve to get a pair today.

I'm having major problems getting used to the feel of the loose fitting lightweight dress.  The dress combined with the very skimpy bikini panties I'm wearing today make me feel as if I am walking around nearly naked. That is all I have on–other than the shoes–right now. The exposed shoulders and lack of sleeves result in an uncomfortable new sensation. I keep pulling at the hem of the dress in a vain attempt to make it longer.  It is also loose so that I feel very exposed from underneath. I am afraid wearing this dress in a light breeze could be extremely embarrassing: also I'm afraid of sitting down in public. I'm going to have to work much harder than I have been up until now to sit like a girl in this thing.

After a few laps around the store, I develop a feel for the shoes and find that I can walk in them just fine as long as I concentrate on what I am doing. Like most things it will take practice before I can do it effortlessly.

Stopping by the jewelry counter Kimi and I spend time looking at earrings while the rest continue searching for Ashley's and Shelly's outfits. I let Kimi know that I'd really like some dangly earrings. There are dozens of different styles. She finds a pair that she just can't live without before we find a pair for me.  She calls mine chandelier style with each one having silver tear-drop shaped loops with strands of tiny colored beads hanging from them. They hang a little over two inches and complement the dress and my hair perfectly. The earrings are added to my inventory.

As the afternoon wanes we are finally able to find suitably sexy outfits for Shelly and Ashley. Our last stop is back at the lingerie store.

As we are pawing through the sales table and display racks, it suddenly occurs to me that my anxiety about shopping for sexy lingerie is pretty much gone. In fact, I find myself getting excited to try on some of the items we find. I ask Brain Central, 'Doesn't something seem wrong here?' What I get back is, 'Yes, what's wrong is that you don't have a bra that will work with the sundress and it would be good to get a matching panty to go with whatever you find.' I think that Brain Central is missing the point. I–a boy in disguise–am panty and bra shopping without anxiety and actually–I hate to admit it–enjoying the challenge of finding the right pieces. I am either confident in my disguise or ... I don't really want to think about the 'or'.

But I have to think about the 'or'–'but not right now,' Brain Central comes back, 'we need to get this shopping done. What do you think of the white strapless push up bra that Ashley is showing you? Isn't it darling?' I have been abandoned by myself.

"I'll try it on," I respond to Ashley's suggestion.

Finally, by the time we finish with lingerie I am getting pretty tired.  I also know a lot more about girls' clothes than I did at lunch time. In the end, there is a feeling of accomplishment in having achieved our goal. We have also gelled as a group.

I feel a bond of friendship with each girl in our group–something that I have never felt with girls before. A bond of friendship as equals and without the barrier of opposite genders–a bond of sisterhood, a bond that I never expected to experience in my lifetime. In many ways it is similar to the way that I have felt with many of my guy friends after accomplishing some task, but also different.  A sisterhood is not quite the same as a brotherhood. Neither is better than the other. They are just different.

As we finish our shopping, Shelly makes a suggestion.

"Hey, girl friends," she says enthusiastically, "Why don't we have a sleepover at my house tonight? We can order pizza, watch movies, work on our nails and hair for tomorrow's date, and have all sorts of fun."

"Sorry, Shelly, but I can't," responds Ashley apologetically, "I promised Tom that I'd spend some time with him after he gets off work at 9 o'clock."

"How about you guys?" She asks Kimi, Laurie, and me.

When Laurie calls home to check, Aunt Jen suggests that we come home instead since we have a full day tomorrow that starts early.

"Sorry, Shelly," Laurie says, "We have a big day tomorrow and, if your sleepovers are anything like mine, nobody will get to sleep until the wee hours of the morning. Also, Tina needs to go running early in the morning to get ready for Saturday's race."

The topic of my running had come up during the day. While the Alaskan girls are on the swim team at their school I get the feeling that they are on the team mostly to be around hunky guys in speedos. None of them excel at swimming. They wonder what the attraction to running is.

In the end, we go our separate ways with Ashley dropping us off at the Jeffer's home just in time for dinner. We all agreed to wear our new clothes for tomorrow evening's outing with promises to go all out on our hair and makeup.  We decide to make a grand entrance tomorrow by all arriving at the theatre together.  Ashley will pick up Laurie and me in time to do some work on the finishing touches at her house where Kimi and Shelley will meet us.

"Girls," Mom Polly asks, "what did you get?"

"We all bought outfits for tomorrow's night out," Laurie says enthusiastically. "We thought that we'd try to really make a splash."

"Isn't that a little much for just a movie?" Aunt Jen asks after we show her what we bought.

"Yes," I reply, "but we thought that it would be fun to see the reactions we get when we arrive all dressed up. It also gave focus to our shopping."

"My," says Aunt Jen with a raised eyebrow, "do we have another shopaholic on our hands?"

"Not really," I say blushing.

"Why don't you two girls run upstairs and put on your new clothes for dinner," Mom Polly suggests. "I'd love to see what they look like on you."

"Great idea! I think that you'll like it and, anyway, Tina needs practice time in her new dress," says Laurie as she drags me upstairs.

When we reach the top floor Laurie disappears into the bathroom to take care of her monthly problem while instructing me to start changing.

Back in the room I quickly strip down to my underwear.  I am going to have to use the new bra so the one I've been wearing all day is quickly replaced and I am slipping the dress on as Laurie enters the room.

"Tina, you should wear your new thong," she suggests. "You might as well do the whole package."

I am leery about wearing the thong. I might as well go without given the lack of substance of the tiny panty. I was talked into it by the assembled shoppers telling me that it is necessary to avoid any panty lines. Not that any would show with this loose dress.

Sighing in resignation I reach under the skirt, slip off my bikini panties and slip on the thong.  It is uncomfortable having that string up my butt crack. I don't think that I am going to like thongs. At least I can ditch the panty liner. I'm pretty sure that the thong will not accommodate the panty liner that I've been wearing for practice all day.

"Don't forget your new jewelry," she reminds me. "Also, try taking your hair down from your ponytail. You can finish getting ready in the bathroom while I dress. Wait for me and we'll go down together." She is pretty excited.

I guess I don't get to see her model the new pink panty and bra set that she bought. Too bad, but I know the ground rules.

In the mirror I see a very attractive girl looking back. My hair keeps getting in my face when it is loose like this so I experiment with rearranging it with the help of a hair clip in back and like what I see.  With the hair pulled at least partially back my new earrings really stand out. I add some mascara and end up looking rather nice, even if I say so myself. It has been less than a week since my 'change' but only now am I beginning to connect with the image in the mirror. I see a pretty girl and am beginning to think of myself as one. Also, I feel a strange sense of pride in looking nice. I've never felt anything quite like this before, but I guess that I never had much to work with and, after all, who cares what a teenage boy looks like? Things are sooo different now that I'm a girl.  I'm starting to realize a whole new set of options and expectations. The scary part is that I am finding the new options and expectations interesting and–dare I say it?–even fun.

When Laurie comes out of the room I go back in to put on my new heels and spend a few minute learning to balance again. Laurie comes to stand by me as we look in the full length mirror mounted on the door. She looks pretty cute. We both do.

"What d'you think, cousin?" she asks.

"You're hot," I say. "Any guy would be happy to be with you. Chris wishes he could be with you right now. He approves of the look. I think that he's worried that you're going to have to beat guys off with a stick tomorrow night. He's just glad he's your boyfriend instead of someone else."

"You're pretty hot yourself, Tina," she points out. "You don't exactly look like a boyfriend right now, you know."

That is a sobering thought. I'm not sure what to make of it. On one hand I want to be her romantic interest–as a boy–but on the other hand, I am having fun being her best friend–as a girl.

"Ready?" she asks, breaking me out of my contemplation before it becomes deep thought.

"Ready!" I say, taking a deep breath as we start down the stairs into the living room. I have to concentrate on the descent as I find that stairs are more difficult to negotiate with heels on.

We are about half way down when the Major lets out a wolf whistle.

"Now this is worth the delay," he says appreciatively. Mom Polly whacks him on the arm as Laurie smiles and I turn a bright red.

"The red goes well with your hair," he observes, earning another whack from his wife.

"You girls look great," Aunt Jen says as she has us do a slow spin. "You both really did a great job shopping today. Those outfits should really get some attention tomorrow. They are a bit much for just an evening at the theatre with friends but it should be fun to do as group. Kris, you will need to practice some more walking in those heels though. I must admit that I am surprised to see you wear a dress like that. I thought that you would go with something more conservative."

"I'm not exactly comfortable in this dress," I point out, "but I think that it looks pretty nice if I try to be objective. It will take some getting used to."

"Did Ashley and her friends put you up to this?" Mom Polly asks. "Those girls tend to push the limits of decency all the time."

"Well, they did influence the decision rather heavily," I respond, "but in the end I agreed that if I were my former self I would have found this outfit very attractive on a girl like I am now so I decided to give a try. I'm not sure if I can be comfortable in it tomorrow or not but with some practice tonight I might be able to survive. Anyway, you should see what the others got. Believe me, this is much more conservative."

"No one will mistake you for boy in that dress," the Major comments approvingly. "If you can pull this off then I have no doubts about your ability to get through your assignment this summer. I am really impressed how far you've come this week, Princess."

Turning to Mom Polly he says, "I'm starting to wish we had a daughter. Another beautiful young woman around here on a regular basis would significantly increase the aesthetic quality of our home."

"I can think of a few other good reasons to have a daughter," she says, "but don't get any ideas now."

Dinner has been waiting for us so we all head into the dinning room to enjoy it. I am reminded to smooth my skirt and keep my knees together as I sit down. Believe me, it is easier to remember to sit in a lady-like way in this dress than in jeans as the fear of indecent exposure is prevalent in my mind.

---< >---

Tonight's video indoctrination is Legally Blonde. The Major decides to join with the group tonight. While the movie is funny somehow I can't see myself ever becoming as girly as Reese Witherspoon does in the film. Heck, it is hard to imagine any girl becoming that girly.  It is just fun spoofy humor aimed at a variety of targets, including women.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror removing my makeup and brushing my teeth as I finish getting ready for bed, I ponder on the past five days. Has is it only been five days? It seems longer than that to me. A lot has happened in those five days.

Has it been bad?

The first few days were somewhat of a shock and pretty intense.  The last couple of days have been busy and educational.  I think I'm grateful that I didn't have too much time to think about the whole issue at first. By the time things slowed to the point where I could contemplate the affair, the concept of being female had been established in my mind.  Now, only five days later, I'm already becoming accustomed to the look and feel of this body and the clothes that go with it. I still need some time on my own to explore it more, but I have a general feel for all the components and where they're located.

Looking in the mirror I see a girl with pretty hair, a heart shaped face with sparkly eyes, a slender–almost delicate–neck, slight shoulders, skinny arms, and a minimal bust. I like what I see. My self image is quickly catching up with what I see when I look in the mirror. I am conscious that there no longer seems to be a significant disconnect between her and me. What I see is me.

Gathering my things, I return to our room to find Laurie brushing her hair as she checks email on the laptop.

Looking up from the screen, she comments, "You look as if you are having deep thoughts. Is everything okay?"

"Yes and no," I reply. "I was just thinking about everything that's taken place in the past five days. It is hard to believe just how much has happened. I'm not sure how I feel about it."

She comes over to give me a hug as we sit on the bed.

"Kris," she says, "I still feel bad about how all this unfolded but I am very impressed with how well you are handling the change. Are you really okay?"

"I think so," I reply, "but I am starting to worry about how natural all this is starting to feel. Take today's shopping trip for example. I only panicked once and even that passed quickly. Before I knew it, I was lost in the search for the perfect outfit without even worrying about whether or not it was the right thing to do. I'm scared that I might be slipping into the role too easily. I'm pretty sure that my self image is starting to match up with my new body. What worries me is that I might even find myself being attracted to boys if things keep up going the way that they are."

"Is that so bad," she asks, "given your current status?"

"But I'm not gay," I state.

"You are now if you are still attracted to girls," she points out. "Tell me, were you attracted to Ashley, Shelly, or Kimi today? After all you saw them wearing some pretty sexy outfits today and they are all very pretty. I also know that you saw all of them only partially clothed at various points throughout the day. I noticed you staring at them more than once. Did they turn you on?"

I have to think about this. Did I find them attractive? The answer to that is sure. They are good looking girls. Was I turned on by them? Not that I can remember, but then I don't know how this body will respond when it gets sexually aroused.

"I think that the girls are all quite good looking," I respond thoughtfully, "but I can't say that I was turned on by them, now that you mention it. I did find them very interesting to look at."

"Maybe your new body is having an impact on your sexual preference," she suggests. "How about me? Do I turn you on now?"

Looking at Laurie, I feel a strong sense of affection, but am I stirred sexually? As much as I have always tried to be the gentleman, I have been stirred by just being around her in the past. Now I sit here in night clothes with her, about to share the same bed, and I am not feeling any sexual stirrings at all. I am still curious to see her undressed, but I now have a pretty good idea of what that looks like from looking at myself. I suspect that if I spend much time around naked and nearly naked girls that I won't notice them any more than I noticed guys in similar situations in my male past.

"I can't say that I am 'turned on' by you right now," I say, "but I feel a strong bond with you and want to be with you more than anyone else. Heck, I don't even know what being turned on means in this body. It is strange, but in many ways I feel closer to you than I did before this all started, but in a different way. I'm afraid that I am losing something special for something else that is special, if that makes any sense."

"Interesting," she observes. "Could it be that your sexual preference is changing? How do you feel about boys? Like the ones we flirted with yesterday."

"You mean the ones that YOU flirted with?" I respond. "Well, I have to admit that I thought that Joey was cute when he got flustered, but only in the same way that a kitten or puppy is cute as they are trying to get their bearings. I don't think that he got my motor running, if you know what I mean. The other two just made me want to gag."

"Did you get any warm feelings?" she asks. "When a girl gets sexually attracted to a guy it starts out as warm feelings that progress to a tingling or sensitivity in the breasts and moistness in the vagina. Did you get any of those feelings?"

"Ah, no," I reply blushing, "not that I know of."

"You know you're pretty cute when you blush? Anyway, you'd have known if you'd gotten moist," she assures me. "That's another reason why we need to carry a spare pair of panties and panty liners around. If you think you're going to get aroused it's a good idea to wear a liner. It's much better than having wet panties."

"I gather that you speak from experience?" I inquire.

It is her turn to blush. "Yes," she responds. "As I said before, girls get sexually aroused too. I've notice you got aroused plenty of times this past year and not always by me. It is more obvious on guys you know. I, like all teenage girls, have gotten aroused plenty of times as my female hormones have flooded my body. The way things are going, I suspect that you just might find out–sooner than later–how a girl feels when she sees a good looking guy. If it happens, don't worry about it. Just blame the hormones and go with it. It is a normal female reaction. I can help talk you through it if you like. When you get back to being Chris, I'm sure that all that testosterone will bring you back to what you are used to but at least you will understand us poor girls better."

"So where does that leave us this summer?" I ask. "I know that I want you to be my girlfriend at the end of all this. It will hurt me a lot if I see you take to another guy, but I can't be your boyfriend this summer looking like this. And what happens if I actually do get attracted to a guy? What will that do to us?"

"I've been thinking about that too," she replies. "Honestly I don't know where we are going this summer. It's new ground for both of us. I only know that I want us to be good friends at the very least when this is finished. Hopefully we can pick up where we left off and continue to grow our girlfriend/boyfriend relationship."

"I guess we'll just have to take it one day at a time," I state as I give her a hug. "No matter what happens, I want us to remain friends above all else."

It is a tender moment unlike any that we've ever shared.

Before going to bed, I log into my email account and what do I find? Another email from Joey! Laurie gives me an I-told-you-so look when I tell her.  He sent the email late in the day and attached another of the pictures taken yesterday. He asks how my day went and if I've found out anything about the race on Saturday.

Ugh!  What do I do? I decide to ignore it for the time being. I feel bad to be ignoring someone who is trying to be friendly, but Laurie has me concerned that Joey is looking for more than just a friend. Maybe if I send him a thank you email late tomorrow he'll take the hint that I'm not interested in establishing a romantic relationship. Why can't we just be buddies?

---< >---

Gabi edits again... Thank You!

 

Something Feels Strange…

Before going to bed, I log into my email account and what do I find? Another email from Joey! Laurie gives me an I-told-you-so look when I tell her.  He sent the email late in the day and attached another of the pictures taken yesterday. He asks how my day went and if I've found out anything about the race on Saturday.

Ugh!  What do I do? I decide to ignore it for the time being. I feel bad to ignoring someone who is trying to be friendly, but Laurie has me concerned that Joey is looking for more than just a friend. Maybe if I send him a thank you email late tomorrow he'll take the hint that I'm not interested in establishing a romantic relationship. Why can't we just be buddies?

Chapter 19: A Night Out

The cool breeze feels good after the climb. The view from up here is phenomenal–it’s definitely worth the climb.

I am sitting on a mountain peak which overlooks a mountain pass and taking a long drink from a water bottle. The Major and Tom are with me. Our little ‘family’ group have spent the morning driving around and exploring the regions north of Anchorage, and have finally ended up at a state recreation area that includes some historic mine buildings and some absolutely spectacular alpine scenery.  After poking around the old mine buildings for a while, the three of us decided to hike up to a small lake nestled in a natural bowl on the side of a mountain overlooking the recreation area.  The mile-long hike to the lake was easy, but the lure of the summit only a thousand feet higher up caused us to continue to the top by scrambling across a small snow field and up some loose rock.

Laurie and the rest of the ladies decided to continue exploring the mine buildings. I think Laurie was not keen to get too far away from the outhouses given her current monthly predicament. She has been a frequent visitor to bathrooms the last couple of days. I don’t think that she would have liked the final scramble anyway.

“Wow, you’re a pretty good hiker for a girl,” Tom observes.

“Didn’t you think a girl could do it, then?” I ask, somewhat indignantly.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” he replies, blushing.

“So what did you mean?” I ask expectantly. I decide to try the girl trick of making him squirm for making a stupid comment. It is interesting to watch how uncomfortable he gets.  His father isn’t helping him either. The Major just sits back and allows Tom to either dig his own grave or find a graceful way out of the hole that his mouth has dug for him.

Tom sputters as he tries to come up with a good save. “Most of the girls I know would have needed some help getting up here–that is if they would have even tried. You just seem like one of the guys the way you just go for it.”

I arch my eyebrow and frown. “So now I’m ‘one of the guys’? Maybe I should lower my voice and start flexing my biceps,” I say, holding my arms up in a muscle-man pose.

Poor Tom is getting really red by now. I wonder if I should let him off the hook mercifully.

“Ugh! That didn’t come out right either,” he says in frustration.

The Major smiles as he finally provides his son with some advice, “Give it up, Tom. There are times when you just can’t win so just cut your losses and let it go.”

To me he says, “I think what my son is trying to say is that he doesn’t know any pretty girls like you who are as good at this kind of activity and he is happy to have you with us today. I don’t think that he has learned how capable girls can be in the outdoors when they choose. Maybe we should send him on a hike with Private Clawson for an educational experience.”

I laugh at the suggestion. “Tom, you might be right about most girls but I am not most girls. However, you need to learn how to be a bit more diplomatic like your father. And watch out for stereotypes. Come to think of it, you hike pretty good for a guy! After all, I know plenty of guys who would never have made it up here either.”

This got a great laugh from the Major. Tom–on the other hand–was not amused.  His pride had taken rather a beating and he is careful in his comments as we trek back down the mountain to join the others.

At one point, when Tom is out of earshot, the Major says, “You have come a long way this week, Princess. The way you handled Tom back there was a very typical response from a strong-minded woman. You will have to reach out to him now that you’ve put him in his place and let him know you are not out to get him personally.”

“I’ll try,” I say. “I didn’t mean scare him off, just to make him think a little before he opens his mouth and puts his foot in it.”

As we re-cross the little snow field I make a snowball which I toss at Tom while he is not looking. This act touches off a three way snowball fight that has us all breathless and laughing by the time we call a truce. I was the big loser in the fight. Let’s face it, this female body is not much of a match in a snowball fight with an older teenage male and his father. Regardless, we all had fun and Tom seemed to feel better afterwards. We had a lot of fun on the rest of the tramp back to the car. I even managed to squeal and giggle like a girl during the snowball fight and as we poked fun at one another on the way down the mountain.

---< >---

“What a pain!” I exclaim in frustration. Everyone–except Laurie–seems bewildered by my total inability to do an acceptable job of applying eye shadow after four tries. We–Laurie, Ashley, Kimi, Shelley and I–are all in Ashley’s bedroom adding the finishing touches for tonight’s grand entrance.

“Haven’t you ever dressed up for a date?” Shelly asks in frustration. “I’d think that even a tomboy would have to apply makeup from time to time. I’ll never understand the few girls at our school that don’t know about makeup. They don’t have boyfriends either.”

“Tina hasn’t dated much,” Laurie says–‘at least, not as a girl’ I add to myself. “She just sticks to the basics.”

“I’m pretty good at it. Let me help,” Ashley volunteers.

I am delighted to accept her offer; I don’t know why, but I guess I feel embarrassed by my lack of girl skills and resolve to spend more time learning.  I pay close attention to what Ashley does, asking questions about the finer points as she goes.

It is twenty minutes later when, finally, we troop into the family’s front room as a group.  Ashley’s parents and two younger brothers are there.

“Oh my,” Ashley’s mom exclaims. “You girls are certainly going to be the center of attention tonight. I feel sorry for the poor boys. They won’t be able to watch the movie at all. I just have to get a picture of this!” If my folks had seen what the Alaskan girls were wearing, they wouldn’t have let them out of the house. Even so, I have to admit that we all look pretty hot, though I think Laurie is the best looking of the bunch in her new skirt and blouse. I can’t help but wish that I was the guy taking her out tonight.

I still feel rather exposed in my new dress and am constantly fiddling with hem, trying to make it longer. There is a lot of free space in the skirt and I don’t feel very covered. I keep worrying that the strapless bra is going to fall down too.

“Stop that, Tina,” Kimi says, as I tug at the hem of my skirt again. “It is not going to get any longer.”

When Ashley’s dad comes back with the camera, they pose us in front of the big fireplace and take several pictures. I dig my cell phone out of my purse and have him take a couple of pictures with it. Ashley’s dad promises to email us a few of the pictures taken with his real camera.

In no time at all, we are crammed into Ashley’s little car and heading for the theatre.  There is much excitement in the air as the girls predict the effect we will have on the other members of the group. Me–I’m just trying to figure out how to sit in the small back seat of the car without showing my panties–what there is of them–to the world.  It is a good thing there are only girls here!  I spend a lot of the drive thinking about how I might manage to exit the back seat of the two-door car gracefully.

Parking is hard to come by at the theatre and there is already a long line of people stretching out of the door into the parking lot.  Fortunately, some of our group are near the front of the line.

Mercifully, the only parking spots that we can locate are on the far side of the crammed parking lot, so  I can get out of the car without a big audience. Somehow, Laurie and Kimi manage to  exit gracefully from the back seat with their knees together. I try to imitate them but it is awkward and my efforts are not nearly as smooth. I just wish it was dark outside, but no, I have to do it in broad daylight–does it ever get dark here? Exiting a small car gracefully in a short skirt is just something else that I must practice.

I totter through the parking trying to balance on my new heels. Someone decides that we need to link arms and make our entrance as a group. What is it with girls?  Everything seems to be a group activity.  As I get dragged along I have to admit that it is kind of fun.  At least I can hide in the little group.

Glancing at the rest of the crowd gathered at the theatre, I realize that we are very overdressed for the occasion–most people are very casually dressed.  I see only one other skirt in the crowd. We really stand out, but I suppose that is the idea. As we approach the line to where Tom and his friends are waiting for us, we attract several whistles and I see at least two girls elbow their dates when the boys became distracted.

Our contingent is pretty big–half the swim team must be here. Laurie and I are introduced to more than a dozen other kids, mostly guys. We get lots of positive comments from them about our outfits. One of the girls took Ashley aside and asked her why she didn’t tell the other girls what we were doing.  She felt that we made the rest of them look bad. The other girls in the group are pretty cool towards our little gang. The guys, on the other hand seem unable to stay away from us. I feel like I am on display when I’d much rather melt into the crowd.

“Wow,” Tom exclaims, “You all look great tonight! Ashley, you should have said something, I would have dressed a little nicer.”

“Do you have anything nicer?” Ashley enquires. “I’m beginning to think that all you own is jeans and hiking clothes. Anyway, I like you just the way you are. We just felt like doing something special tonight. Tina here thought that she needed to look nice and we decided to join her.”

That’s not how I remember the story, but it’s not worth fighting about.

A guy named Don decides to get friendly with Laurie and I. “So,” he says, “I hear that you girls only here for a couple of more days.  How has your visit been?”

The poke in the ribs that I get from Laurie seems to indicate that I should field this question. “It has been very interesting. Alaska is a lot different from what I imagined. I’ve been learning a lot on this trip.” About more than Don will ever know!

“What have you been up to?” Don asks.

I spend some time telling him about our two trips and the shopping excursion.  I also mention that I have been preparing for tomorrow’s race. Somewhere in the conversation, I note that Laurie has struck up her own conversation with another boy. I can’t hear what she is saying but I don’t think that she is doing that flirting thing again. I hope not.

While I am chatting with Don, two other boys and a girl join us.  One of the boys, Jerry, has lived in Southern California; his family is military also. The girl, Connie, is originally from Texas–her parents are in the oil business.

Eventually the line starts to move and we make it into the lobby of the theatre where we order pizzas and drinks for the movie.  We end up ordering a mix of pizzas, breadsticks, and pitchers of soda pop. One of the girls decide that WE need to use the restroom before getting seats, so we send the boys to stake out our place while all eight of us girls head for the restroom.  It seems that every other girl in the theatre has same idea because there is a long line for the toilets. It is mad house in here.

While we are waiting our turn Connie asks, “Tina, you don’t wear a dress and heels often do you? I’ll bet Ashley and her pals put you up to this.”

“How’d you guess?” I ask.

“You need to quit fussing with the hem of your dress and you’re not real steady on those heels,” she explains.

I sigh, “Yes, the others put me up to it. Something about learning how to express my femininity. They told me that I’m too much of a tomboy in everyday life. I’ve never gone out like this before and I’m not sure that I like it.”

“Well, Ashley, Kimi, and Shelly are a bit over the top most of the time,” she says, matter-of-factly, “but you do look pretty nice. I have to admit that I’m glad that you’re leaving this weekend.  Jerry can’t seem to take his eyes off you. I’ve been trying to attract his attention for a year now and this is the first time that he’s asked me out. I doubt that I could compete with you if you decided to grab him for yourself. I think that Don and a couple of the other guys are having the same problem so at least he would have some competition.”

“Neither of us is in the market for a boyfriend,” I try to assure her. “Laurie has a very steady boyfriend at home and I don’t have time for one.”

“Yeah,” she says unconvinced, “just make sure that your hormones stay in check tonight, girl. I’d hate to lose in one evening all the ground I’ve made with Jerry over the past few months. You don’t know how hard it’s been to get him to take me out.”

I sense that Connie is placing a shot across my bow. I get the warning.

“Look, Connie,” I tell her. “Neither of us are here to cause trouble. Believe me, right now I don’t want to stir up any romantic entanglements. You can have Jerry, if that’s what you want. I won’t be doing anything to attract him, or any of the other boys, tonight.”

“You already have, Sugar.” she says. “Dressing like that has only one purpose–to attract guys.”

A stall comes available and I welcome the opportunity to break this conversation which is beginning to get intense. After finishing our necessary business, Laurie joins me at the sink where she suggests that we touch up our lipstick.

“What’s up with that girl?” she asks.

“She has the hots for Jerry, one of the boys I was talking with in line,” I tell her. “This is the first time that she’s gotten him to take her out and now she thinks that we are here to steal him.  She’s a tad jealous I guess and was politely telling me to stay away from him.”

“So,” she asks, “are you going to steal him?”

“Laurie!” I hiss at her in an urgent whisper. “Why would I do that? I’m not into guys, remember? I have a girlfriend. Even if I was, why would I want to hurt a girl that I just met, particularly when I will be gone in less than forty eight hours?”

“I don’t know,” she says, “I just thought that you might want to practice your feminine wiles where you won’t get stuck with an attachment. Don’t you think that he is kind of cute?  As a matter of fact, don’t you think all the boys are pretty cute? I think that Don is a regular hunk. Swimming really develops those luscious chest and shoulder muscles. Try letting go of Chris for a few minutes and look through the eyes of Tina.”

Our time is up in front of the mirror and we are crowded out of the way by others. As we leave the restroom I grab her by the arm and drag her into a corner of the packed lobby out of earshot of the rest of our group.

“Why are you doing this?” I demand angrily.

“What?” she asks innocently.

“You know what,” I fume at her. “Why are you pushing me at guys? It seems that you have forgotten that I’m your boyfriend.”

“I only see Tina here,” she shoots back. “Tina needs to learn how to be a girl. Part of being a girl is to listen and respond to what our bodies are telling us.  I just think that you will be happier when you learn to let go of Chris and act like the person that your body says you are. Look, I am, and will be, faithful to Chris.  I really like him, but he’s not here right now. Tina is and it’s my job to help Tina find herself. I don’t expect you to jump into bed with any of these guys but I don’t want you to deny it if your hormones kick in and cause you to have the normal feelings that go with the body that you currently occupy. The sooner you learn how to deal with the feelings that every girl has the better.”

Don comes out to find us and spots us in a heated debate in the corner.

“Hey, girls, the movie’s about to start,” he informs us cautiously.

“Save us a place,” I tell him with a glare. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

Turning back to Laurie, I inform her, “I am not having any female hormonal urges tonight. I am having a hard enough time dealing with this dress and the heels. They are more than enough of a distraction for me. I don’t have time to worry about being distracted by boys so if you want to help me you can just back off a bit.”

“Okay, Tina, “ she relents. “I’ll back off, but I won’t run interference for you either. Just let me know if you get in over your head and I’ll help where I can.”

Inside the theatre, I discover that Don has saved me a place at a booth table with him, Jerry and Connie. Connie doesn’t appear to be too happy about that. Tom and Ashley have included Laurie in their group with another guy.

The seat that Don saved for me is between him and Jerry.  I realize that this won’t go down too well with Connie, so I ask Jerry to trade places with Connie so that Connie and I can get to know each other better while we sit together between the two boys.  Jerry looks disappointed but Connie seems to appreciate the change in seating arrangements. 

For me the big challenge is to sit and slide gracefully into my place at the table wearing this short dress. I realize that I can’t just climb in like a guy so, keeping my knees together, I sit while smoothing the skirt of my dress under me then turn and slide into place.  It is awkward, but I manage to maintain my dignity. It feels so strange to have my legs so exposed and a bit of a draft up the skirt.  It is also proving difficult to get used to the feel of the strapless pushup bra and exposed shoulders. I am aware that Don and Jerry have spent a fair amount of time admiring my breasts. Swell–maybe the pushup bra wasn’t such a great idea. I am wishing that I had brought a light coat so I could cover up.

Our food arrives just as the movie’s opening credits roll, so the opportunity for conversation evaporates.  I’m fine with this.

It seems strange to be eating while watching the movie. We make some noise passing the pizzas around the various tables until everyone gets what they want, then settle in for the show. We are crammed into a booth style seating, but I still think that Don is getting more cozy than he needs to be. At one point his hand ends up on my thigh. I make a point to remove it and after that he pretty much behaves himself. I do catch him glancing at my chest from time to time and wonder if I was ever so obvious when I was a guy. I’m pretty sure that there is nothing wrong with Don’s hormones. Me–I’m feeling defensive so I don’t have any inclination to check out the people around me–especially Don.

Once everyone is settled and the ground rules established, I finally allow myself to focus more on the film. For a while I forget my predicament and just get lost in the action. I suppose that is why most folks go to movies–to forget about the cares of real life for a while. The strange part the situation is that I can’t decide whether to identify with the hero or the heroine. I find myself projecting into both roles. I can really connect with the hero but I find that I have a new connection with the heroine as well. I find myself asking how she can run and fight like she does wearing a tight skirt and heels. I find myself wishing that I could look that good and be as capable. I can’t decide if my new observations are good or bad. As the closing credits begin to roll, I find myself slowly returning to the reality of my current situation with a few new issues to think about.

“Tina,” Don asks, “are you coming to Leah’s house with us? We’re planning on having a party there tonight.”

“Yeah,” Jerry adds, a bit too enthusiastically for Connie, “You can ride with us if you’d like.”

I’d been told about this gathering earlier and don’t plan on going.

“I’d love to, guys,” I reply, “but I have a big race in the morning so I need to get to bed pretty soon.”

I can see the disappointment in their expressions. Connie looks very relieved; then Laurie catches up to us with a couple of boys in tow.

“Hey, Tina,” she says, “are you going to the party?”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” I answer with a sinking feeling. “Who’re your friends?”

“Oh, sorry,” she says, “This is Harry and Sam. They invited us to ride with them to the party.”

“If you remember,” I reply rather testily, “I have a race in the morning and need to get to bed.  I’m hoping that someone can give me a ride home.”

“We can drop you off on the way,” offers Harry.

“Gives us a minute please,” I tell everyone as I drag Laurie off to the side.

“Before you get your panties all in a twist,” she says cutting me off, “I am not running around on Chris. I promise that I am not flirting or chasing guys. I am just relaxing and getting to know some new people. Think about it. If you were here by yourself as Chris, you would do the same thing. So don’t go getting all jealous on me.”

“It would be easier if two girls had invited you instead of two guys,” I point out.

“Look at the girls,” she says. “They’re all distracted by the guys. None of them are interested in the new girls.

“Listen,” she continues, “I know that you need to get home and get some rest and I’ll go with you if it’s important to you.”

“But you’d like to go to the party,” I observe.

“Yeah, I would. I think that it’s nice to meet new people,” she says, “and I’d like you to come with me. We’d have some fun together and further your training. However I’d rather not upset you. You’re important to me.”

She sure knows how to put me in a dilemma. So, do I put my foot down and have her come home with me or give her my blessing to go to the party? If I make her stay home, she is likely to be resentful and the lack of trust on my part might actually be damaging to our relationship. If I let her go without me, I’ll be jealous and worried. If I go with her, I won’t be in any shape for the race tomorrow. There is no good outcome to the decision before me.

In the end, I decide to let her go without me. That is the riskiest of the options but the only one where only I am potentially harmed. I decide that I need to work on having faith in her and confidence in our relationship.

---< >---

The quiet rustling sound that I hear is what must have woken me up. Without moving, I can see Laurie preparing for bed by the dim light in the room. I can also see the bright red numbers on the digital clock. It is 11:45 and Laurie is down to her underwear. She certainly does have a nice figure. She slips off her bra but leaves her panties on. I get just a glimpse of her bare breasts before she slips on her nightgown. I find myself disappointed that, after spending almost a week managing my own new female breasts, this first view of hers is rather an anti-climax. It does absolutely nothing to arouse me.  But then again, I haven’t been sexually aroused all week by anything or anybody.

As I pretend to be asleep, Laurie quietly slips into bed with me and lies facing me. I fully open my eyes and softly say “Good evening, girl friend.”

“Oh, Tina,” she quietly replies, “I tried not to wake you. I’m sorry!”

“’T’s okay,” I reply, “I wasn’t sleeping well anyway. You’re back fairly early. Did you have a good time?” Part of me is hoping that she had a miserable time.

“I guess it was all right,” she tells me. “That Don guy must be hard up for a girlfriend. When we got to the party he stuck to me like glue: it got to be annoying pretty quick. He’s a nice boy but he’s nothing like Chris. I kept finding myself comparing all the guys to Chris and they always came up short. I know that you’re still here, but I miss having your arm around me. I miss being a couple. It is like I have lost my best part. What’s so frustrating is that you’re not really gone but I still can’t have what I miss. I don’t know if this make sense but in a lot of ways it would be easier for me if you were away at camp.”

“Me too,” I reply dejectedly. “If I was at camp, then I wouldn’t have so many of the confused feelings I have. I find it difficult to be around you as Chris in hiding but, strangely, I like being with you as a girl friend. I feel like two different people–sometimes at the same time. On one hand I want to hold you as my girlfriend and enjoy the sexual tension and excitement that exists in such a relationship.  On the other hand I am enjoying learning about girl things with my best girl friend–someone who will always be there for me. I really liked being your boyfriend and I really like being your best girl friend. I know that I can’t be both at once, but I’m not sure that I can switch between them.  Am I making any sense?”

“Yes,” she says, “I feel a lot the same way. I really really like Chris and I like having a boyfriend that makes me feel warm all over.  I like being held and kissed. I really like being with Chris and long to be with him again. On the other hand, I am finding Tina to be a great friend who needs me. She also helps me see life from a different perspective and the result is I think I’m becoming a better person by hanging out with her. There are lots of things that I can share with Tina that I would never feel comfortable sharing with Chris. I love Tina as a sister and really enjoy her. I know that I can’t have both, but I like both. This situation is really awkward.”

“Laurie, I’m afraid of letting go of Chris for the summer,” I say with some anguish in my voice. “I’m afraid that it will be hard to bring him back.”

She reaches over and puts her arm around me and pulls me close so that our foreheads touch like two girls sharing a secret. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” she whispers to me. “Look how well you’re adapting to being Tina without any prior experience. It should be much easier to go back to being Chris than it has been becoming Tina. Besides, I will do my best to accelerate the transition when it happens! In the mean time, I like having you, Tina, to be my favorite cousin and I will do everything in my power to help you be the best girl that you possibly can be. Being a girl is not all bad, you’ll see!”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I confide, “I’m so afraid that, if I let myself go, I’ll like it too much to go back.”

“Well, girl, it seems to me that you’ll have to go back to being Chris. After all, how would you explain Chris’s disappearance? I would miss him terribly. Just think, if you didn’t switch back then we’d both need to find new boyfriends; and let me tell you, girl, guys like Chris are rare and very hard to find. Anyway, letting yourself go may make the transition back to being Chris harder, but not unbearable, and I think that it will make your summer much more fun. Think about it, girl friend.”

I do think about it–a lot–before I finally get to sleep.

 ---<>---

Thanks to Gabi for her work on this chapter. She had her work cut out for her!

 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I confide, “I’m so afraid that, if I let myself go, I’ll like it too much to go back.”

“Well, girl, it seems to me that you’ll have to go back to being Chris. After all, how would you explain Chris’s disappearance? I would miss him terribly. Just think, if you didn’t switch back then we’d both need to find new boyfriends; and let me tell you, girl, guys like Chris are rare and very hard to find. Anyway, letting yourself go may make the transition back to being Chris harder, but not unbearable, and I think that it will make your summer much more fun. Think about it, girl friend.”

I do think about it–a lot–before I finally get to sleep.

Chapter 20: Race Day

It’s half an hour to race time. The four of us are stretching and doing a little last minute encouragement for our first runner. The Major gets us to pose for a group photo and gives us a pep talk.

It’s hard to find everyone in this huge crowd. The Airborne t-shirts and cell phones help. There must be two or three thousand people milling around and another thousand on the way, so this is by far the biggest mass start that I’ve ever seen! Fortunately, the sash that we will be handing off has a chip in it so our time doesn’t really start until the sash crosses the start line but, all the same, we encourage Spud to get near the head of the group which is already filling up. It doesn’t make sense to stick around for the starting gun so the rest of us decide to get an early start for the first exchange point. The Major has offered to provide transport services so the remainder of us pile into his big crew cab truck and head for the aid station where the first exchange will take place.

As we get out of the truck I hear someone calling to me. Looking around I see Joey and Alex, two of the boys we met on the boat, heading our way. Joey has his big camera out.

“Tina, we were hoping to see you,” Joey says after they catch up to me. “We thought that we’d come cheer you on.”

Helen looks at me with a cocked eyebrow.

“Thanks, Joey,” I say. Turning to the rest of the team, I make introductions. “Killer and Jalepeno this is Joey and Alex. Guys, I think you’ve met Major Jeffers.”

The guys give my running partners a strange look. 

“Actually, I’m Helen and this is Manuel,” Helen clarifies for them. “Killer and Jalepeno are just nicknames. So what brings you fellas out on such a nice morning?”

“We met Tina and Laurie on a boat tour this week and heard about the race, so we thought we’d come out to cheer Tina on,” Alex replies. “Where’s Laurie?”

“She’ll be meeting us at the next relay point where I start my leg of the race,” I reply. Alex looks a little disappointed.

“Look, guys, it’s really sweet that you came but I need to help Helen get ready for her run. I’ll see you in a bit,” I say as I drag Helen off for a short warm up jog.

“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend up here already,” Helen says. “Girl, you sure work fast.”

“He’s just a guy I met on the boat. He’s a nice guy, but I swear, I didn’t do anything to encourage the relationship. I’m not interested in a boyfriend right now. He’s been emailing me but I’ve tried to ignore the last few,” I explain.

“Well it looks as if he found you. It seems pretty clear that he likes you a lot,” she observes.

“Any idea on how to get him to realize that we’ll never be more than friends?” I ask the older woman.

“I’d have thought a cute girl like you would already have that maneuver down by now,” she replies.

“Actually,” I say, “I don’t have much experience with this sort of thing.  I do think that he’s a nice guy so I don’t want to hurt his feelings.  At the same time, I’d like him not to get his hopes up for greater things.”

“Why don’t you stay down the trail until Spud shows up. When he does, call the Major with your cell phone to let us know he is coming. You can run back with him.  When you get back there won’t be time to visit with the two boys,” she suggests.

I agree to the plan and wait about a quarter mile up the trail from the relay point while Helen heads back to finish her stretching and warm up.

About ten minutes later the first runners start to appear.  So do Joey and Alex.

“We heard that you were doing lookout duty so we thought that we’d come wait with you,” Joey explains.

“Sorry, guys, but when my runner shows up I’ll have to go quickly,” I tell them. “You can help me by looking for a guy wearing an Airborne shirt like mine.”

“Why didn’t you answer my last email?” Joey asked.

“Sorry, Joey, I’ve been pretty busy and haven’t checked it recently,” I tell him, trying my best 'sad puppy' look. “Oh look! There’s Spud now!”

I pull out my cell phone and hit the speed dial button for the Major and I report that Spud is in sight.

“Hey look, guys, I need to take off! It was good to see you,” I say with a smile as I start jogging back to the exchange point. When Spud catches up to me, I run with him giving encouragement as he sprints for the exchange.

We give Spud about five minutes to cool down before piling back into the truck for the ride to the next exchange point.

The traffic around the check points slows us down some, but we get to the next stop with about ten minutes to spare–plenty of time for me to complete my warm up exercises. 

I don’t know how they did it, but Joey and Alex pull in to the parking area just after us.  These guys are tenacious. Also at the check point are Laurie, Tom, Ashley, and Don. It seems that we–or maybe, I–have quite the fan club.  When Joey and Alex join us I let Laurie do the introductions as I focus on getting ready for my run. Laurie makes a point of telling everyone that I need my space to get focused, which really helps.

Jalapeno jogged down the trail to give us warning of Killer’s arrival and, as a result, we get about two minutes notice prior to her arrival.  At least a hundred runners have passed through the aid station.  Spud did not get a good start but Killer really made up some ground. She is in an all out sprint when she arrives at the aid station and hands the sash off to me.  I don’t waste any time heading down the trail.

The City of Anchorage has an extensive bike and walking trial system so the entire route is off the roads. My leg of the race starts near the high point of the course so most of my run is gently downhill.

I take off pretty fast but soon settle into a strong steady pace.  I am fresh and pass many of the runners that are doing the full marathon.  I even find myself passing a few other relay runners. There is something to be said for starting behind slower runners. There is a mental boost every time you pass someone–I always loose energy when someone passes me.  Anyway, the paved trail winds through the woods before entering the city proper. The route crosses several major roads via pedestrian bridges.  At one bridge not far from the exchange point Joey is ready with his camera, shouting encouragement as I run by. The rest of my fan club is there also.

I sprint the last quarter mile to the exchange and make the transfer to Jalepeno who takes off like his tail is on fire. It takes a few minutes for me to catch my breath as I cool down.

“Wow, girl!” Helen enthuses as she gives me a big hug before she joins me for my short cool down jog, “you really kicked some butt! 43:23 is not a bad run for seven miles. Great job. You can run with me anytime.”

I’m pretty sweaty so the hug I get from Laurie is rather tentative. “Great job, Tina. You looked like you were really flying when you got here. You haven’t lost your touch at all.”

Joey and Don catch up to me about the same time.  Apparently the two of them are in competition for my attention. Alex is focusing on Laurie.

“Wow, you’re pretty fast!” exclaims Don. “I’d hate to have to race you.”

“You sure are,” agrees Joey, “I had the continuous shoot feature going on the camera but only got a few images as you flashed by.”

“Thanks guys,” I say, “I’d love to see the images, but we need to head out to the finish line. Maybe you could send me the good ones, Joey?”

“You bet!” he says with a big smile. “I’ll follow you guys over to the finish line and let you look at them there. You can pick out the ones you like.”

As we drive toward the finish line, Helen tells me about the competition between Joey and Don for my affections.  She says that it was humorous to watch them posturing.  Neither seems to be sure if the other is my boyfriend. It appears that Laurie is not helping them out too much either.

“Let me know if they get to be a problem,” the Major says with a twinkle in his eye. “I think it would be fun to play the part of the over-protective relative. After all, I've never had a daughter to protect.”

“Stick close,” I tell him.

“I’m called ‘Killer’ for a reason,” Helen says. “I’ve killed more budding infatuations than any girl I know. It is amazing how amorous these soldier types get when they’ve been away from home for a while. They all think that they are can sweep any woman off her feet. It gets old after a very short time. I find the best way is to tell them straight up that they need to get their hormones under control. Unfortunately this also insults their manhood, so you need to find a way to tell them that they are valuable without being bed mates. Sometimes it helps to have someone else put them in their place for you. If they get out of hand let me know and I’ll show you how it’s done.”

As expected the whole crew is waiting for us at the finish line. The first runners have already started arriving.  There aren’t a lot at the front of the race. While we are waiting for Jalapeno to show, Joey shows us all the images that he has taken. I make him delete one where I have a less than flattering expression. I am surprised at all the candid pictures that he took while we where hanging around the various exchange locations.  I think that there are enough images of my warm up to illustrate a how-to book. It looks as if I have my own personal photographer.

Don is feeling upstaged at this point and you can tell he is trying to find some way to impress me. Things are getting out of hand.

I stroll away from the group and, as expected, Don and Joey follow me. This is really strange! I’ve never felt like a magnet before. When we get out of earshot of the group, I turn to them and say, “Listen, guys, I think that both of you are really nice guys and it has been great to meet you. I may be flattering myself here but I get the impression that each of you are trying to find some way to ask me out tonight before I leave.”

I can tell from the expressions on their faces that I have hit close to the mark.

“I want you two to know that I think that we could all become good friends if there were time. But, guys, I am not interested in being anything more than friends with anyone right now. Also, we don’t have the time to develop much of a friendship right now since I will be in California about this time tomorrow. I have a full schedule today and tonight, so please let’s just part as friends and be glad that our paths crossed at least once in our lives. Can we just be friends?” I ask as I look them each in the eye.

“Sure,” they both say looking somewhat uncomfortable.

“Come here, guys,” I direct holding out my arms. I give them each a little hug and a peck on the cheek then put my arms through theirs so that they can both escort me back to the main group. “Let’s go watch Jalapeno finish this race.”

As we get back with the others, Laurie gives me an enquiring look. Helen gives me a look that clearly indicates that she is ready to jump in. The Major just smiles and shakes his head.

Letting go of the two guys I go over to Laurie and whisper in her ear, “I’ll tell you later.”

While still attentive, the two smitten young men give me some space. Before too long, Spud shouts that he can see Jalapeno coming up the final hill. We all start to shout and cheer him on as he valiantly attempts to sprint past another runner on his way to the finish. He doesn’t quite make it, but it was fun watching him try.

Our final time puts us in about 8th place in the relay teams and first in the military service category. While I’m the only one in the group not employed by the military my military dependent ID is sufficient to make me eligible to be part of the group. We are pretty jazzed as a team. Helen put out the best performance and I came in a close second for the team. The Major is also pleased that his soldiers did so well, but he did point out to the two guys that they had been bested by a teenage girl.  I can tell from the predatory grin on Helen’s face that they will be hearing about how they got beat by a couple of girls for quite some time.

The four of us pose for some photos by our fans. It is great fun.

“Anyone hungry?” the Major asks.

“Yes, Sir!” comes from the military guys and similar responses for the rest.

“Well, Polly and Jen have prepared a barbecue up at the house.  Everyone is welcome to join us.” He says, directing the last comments to my two bands of admirers. Swell! I thought he would be more help than that, but I guess now that the ground rules have been established maybe things will be okay.

We collected our new T-shirts for being race finishers, directions to the Jeffers’ house are exchanged, and I hop into Spud’s SUV with the rest of the team. We’re sweaty enough that everyone else is politely keeping their distance. The four of us together smell pretty ripe. The ride back to the house goes quickly as we share stories of our experiences on the run.  I received a good natured ribbing about the size of my fan club. All of them volunteered to act as bodyguards for me if need be. There is nothing like a team success to bring a group of people together. It feels really nice to be part of this particular group.

At the house, we runners take turns in the shower before we are allowed to join the rest of the group. I guess the others just don’t appreciate the smell of success!

I put on shorts and a loose t-shirt with an “Alaskan Grown” logo on the front.  I pull my hair back with a large butterfly clip and add a touch of makeup before joining the rest of the group. As I head down the stairs I realize how natural all this feels. It has been a tough week in a lot of ways, but I think that I am getting used to this body and it’s care.

Laurie intercepts me before I make it out to the deck. “What did you say to those guys? They are getting along like old friends now.”

I recount the conversation I had with the guys and mention that I think that they got the message.

“Wow, I wouldn’t have thought to do that. We’ll see if it works,” she says with some admiration. “Why the hugs and kisses though?”

“The Major pointed out to me yesterday that after you take someone down a peg that you need to let them know that they are of some value so that you don’t totally destroy the relationship,” I explain, “so I decided to combine that advice with the training on feminine wiles you women have been trying to teach me. I decided to be direct like a guy, but then follow it up with a little feminine attention to let them know that they are not total failures. The hugs and kisses seemed to be the feminine way to tell them that they are not total losers. By doing it to both of them, it communicated that hug and peck on the cheek are not necessarily symbols of undying love. I think that combining the best of the two gender approaches might make things easier. So far it seems to be working.”

“Great move, Tina. It looks as if you’ll be teaching me soon!” she chuckles as we head out to the deck and join the party.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” I tell her, “I still have a lot to learn about the girl side of things. Just don’t expect me to do things the same way as a girl would. I intend to mix the techniques from both teams.”

“By the way,” I ask her, “do you think that we can find another running shoe necklace when we get home?”

“Sure, there were a few more like it at the store. Why?” she asks.

I explain my plan to her and get her approval. As we rejoin the party, I seek out Helen.

“Helen,” I say, “I can’t thank you enough for working with me this week and including me in your team. It really made the trip for me.”

“It was nothing, kid,” she tells me. “You are a great kid and have been a great help to our team. Plus it got me out of some less desirable duty. As I said, you can run with me any time.”

“And likewise, but I want you to have this as a symbol of my appreciation,” I say as I hold up my runner’s necklace up.

I swear I saw her eyes water as she said, “Oh, Princess, you don’t have to give me your special necklace.”

“But I want to, Killer,” I say as I reach out and put the necklace around her neck.

We embrace for what feels like more than a few minutes.

“Oh, Princess,” she says with noticeable tears on her cheeks as we pull back, “that is the nicest thing that anyone has done for me in a long time. I promise to take good care of it.” We embrace again.

It is still early afternoon on a very sunny and gorgeous day. Good friends, good food, the glow from achieving something wonderful, and beautiful scenery.  Overlooking a mildly upset stomach, it doesn’t get much better than this. What could possibly go wrong?

We have a game of volley ball going on the back lawn when Laurie suddenly grabs me and drags me aside.

“You aren’t wearing a pad are you?” she whispers urgently.

“No. Why?” I ask.

“Because your period has started and you are starting to stain your shorts,” she says as she drags me into the house with everyone watching.

“We’ll be back in a few,” she calls out to the crowd.

“Do you think anyone else saw it?” I ask.

“Helen did. She is the one who got my attention,” Laurie says.

By now we are up the stairs and in the bathroom.

“You’ll want to get out of those shorts and sit on the toilet until I get back.” she directs.

I just about faint when I see the mess in my panties. Ugh! I don’t think that I like this. The sight of blood has always made me squeamish. Especially when it is my own! I am sooo glad that I was expecting this. I would be really freaking out right now if this were a surprise.

She is back in a flash with fresh panties, a tampon and a pad, and a denim skirt.

As I attempt to clean myself up, she shows me how to rinse out and soak my clothes to minimize permanent blood stains. Somewhere during the instruction, Aunt Jen and Mom Polly show up to lend a hand. So much for privacy.

Eventually, the bloody mess is under control, a tampon installed, and I get redressed with a pad in my panties to handle any leakage. There’s nothing like having full protection.

The tampon is really strange. I don’t really feel it, but having something stuck up inside of me is a wholly new experience.

“You don’t normally wear both a tampon and a pad,” Mom Polly tells me, “but a back up pad for the tampon is pretty good insurance when your flow is heavy or you may not be able to change out the tampon in a timely fashion. How are you feeling, Honey?  Any cramping?”

“I was thinking that something I ate didn’t agree with me,” I reply, suddenly remembering Laurie’s description of the onset of her most recent period, “but it wasn’t too bad so I didn’t worry about it.”

“How are your breasts?” asks Aunt Jen, “Mine often get a tender just before my period starts.”

“Maybe they are, but I wrote that off as resulting from the running and not being use to the bra,” I reply.

“With time, you’ll come to recognize the signs,” Mom Polly tells me, “but I suspect that at times you will get caught off guard like the rest of us.”

As we finish cleaning up I am regaled with stories of times when each of the women has been caught in embarrassing situations when their periods started.  It is good to know that I didn’t do anything too stupid. It all goes to emphasize the need to pay close attention to my body and the calendar. Being a girl is definitely more complicated than being a guy!

There seem to be enough pads and tampons around to get me through this period, or at least to California, so there is no need for a quick trip to the store for supplies. The ladies help me stock my purse and carry on bag with extra panties, pads and tampons so that I will be good for the next few days.

“In a couple of hours we’ll help you change out the tampon and pad. You need to be discrete about how you dispose of them so that you don’t gross everyone out. And don’t ever try flushing them down the toilet,” Mom Polly instructs me.  I get the feeling that she kind of likes having a ‘daughter’ to share such intimate instruction with.

By the time we head back outside, things are winding down. Everyone pitches in to clean up the kitchen and yard before heading their various ways.

Helen gives me a big hug and thanks me again for the necklace. Whispering in my ear, she says “Good thing your period didn’t start a couple of hours earlier! Take care, Princess. Look me up next time you’re in the area.”

I give my other two team mates a big hug and a peck on the cheek. They blush a little. It is amazing what a hug and kiss does to a guy. On reflection, I suppose Chris would have a similar response. This is a neat trick for influencing guys. I’ll have to watch out for it when I change back.

“Thanks for letting me run with you, guys,” I say gratefully, “it was the highlight of my trip.”

I end up hugging Joey, Alex, and Don as they all head out too. We agree to keep in touch by email. I had had Joey download all the pictures from today onto my computer soon after he arrived so he won't be emailing me any pictures.

Tom and Ashley took off for some purpose or another, which left the Jeffers and our crew sitting on the back deck enjoying the afternoon sun before going in to finish packing for our departure.

“Well, Princess,” the Major says, “you’ve really come a long way this week.  I’ve been watching you all day and, while I still see a little of the boy left in your mannerisms, you have become much more feminine in the short time that you’ve been here–enough so that you portray the tomboy image very well. I have also been very impressed at how quick a learner you are. You really picked up on different ways of approaching problem solving using your new assets. I am particularly amazed at how you handled the two-love struck boys today. Your combination of male and female approaches came off really well.”

“I agree,” adds Mom Polly. “In many ways you are much more mature than many girls your age. I suspect that you brought a lot of that with you from before the change but you are learning how to make use of your new gender status to compliment your approaches to life. You are not nearly so awkward as you were on Sunday. While there is so much more for you to learn about being a woman, you seem to have learned the basics. In a way, having your period now is like a graduation certificate. You’ve arrived as a girl. You’re having an experience to which no man will ever be able to relate. You are now one of us.”

 I blush as I respond. “Thanks for the praise. I still think that I have a long way to go before I really become all girl. There’s still a lot of boy in me and I’m not sure that I can let it all go.”

“Oh, darling,” Aunt Jen says, “you don’t need to totally let go of the boy in you to become one of us. In fact, you have a unique perspective that none of us, man or woman, will ever have. You have the chance to gain insights that will help all of us. After all, there are not a lot of people that have the chance to be a full genetic man and a full genetic woman during their lifetime. When you change back, you will go back to your old ‘team’ but for the time being you are fully adopted into ours. For now, I think you should make the most of the experience and just let yourself be the girl that you appear to be.”

Laurie has been pretty quiet during the conversation so I ask, “So, Laurie, what are your thoughts?”

She hesitates and looks at me with an apologetic expression, “I agree with Mom. As much as I miss Chris, I think we’re finding that it won’t work for you to simply be Chris in a girl disguise. We can’t be ‘Chris & Laurie’, boyfriend and girlfriend, this summer. We need to be ‘Tina & Laurie’, cousins and best girl friends, if we are to get through the summer without going nuts. As the week has progressed I find myself viewing you more and more as a girl and less and less like my boyfriend in disguise. I’m sorry!”

It seems that I’m the only one holding on to what was. On reflection, I think that I can easily adopt the role as a girl. I am starting to feel more like one every day.  My self image has been morphing into that of a girl as I get more accustomed to the body, the clothes, and the role. It is easier to let go of my male identity knowing that this is only temporary. I just hope that the transition back is easier. The only fly in the ointment, so to speak, is my relationship with Laurie. My current situation makes it impossible for me to be the boyfriend that I’d like to be. It will be an awkward summer indeed if I try to be. I’m afraid that it will be hard to go back to what we had after spending a summer as close girl friends.

Taking a deep breath, I make the decision. I feel as if I am walking blindfolded towards a cliff. I need to have faith in the voices guiding me if I am to avoid personal injury. Brain Central, who has been strangely quiet lately, supports my decision. It’ll be fun, it tells me, being a girl seems to be a lot more interesting than being a guy. I guess that I’m the last to make the mental transition.

With mixed feelings, I say, “I don’t know how this will all end, but yes, I will do my best to put away Boy Chris and become Girl Tina. This means that I must stop thinking of you as my girlfriend, Laurie. That’s the hardest part of all and will take sometime to implement. We’ll have to make some modifications to our ground rules for this to happen. You will have to treat me just like any other girl and I will need to behave like one. I just hope that we can make the transition back to what we had when this is over at the end of the summer but I’ll try not to worry about that until the time comes.”

Laurie and I embrace each other with tears that could either be happiness for our new relationship or sorrow for the one we are giving up. They could be mix of both. It is hard to say.

---< > ---

Edited by Gabi.... Thank you! - Tiff

With mixed feelings, I say, “I don’t know how this will all end, but yes, I will do my best to put away Boy Chris and become Girl Tina. This means that I must stop thinking of you as my girlfriend, Laurie. That’s the hardest part of all and will take sometime to implement. We’ll have to make some modifications to our ground rules for this to happen. You will have to treat me just like any other girl and I will need to behave like one. I just hope that we can make the transition back to what we had when this is over at the end of the summer but I’ll try not to worry about that until the time comes.”

Laurie and I embrace each other with tears that could either be happiness for our new relationship or sorrow for the one we are giving up. They could be mix of both. It is hard to say.

Chapter 21: Welcome to California

Laurie wakes me as the airplane makes its final approach to the Oakland airport. I am tired and uncomfortable.

We spent the evening washing and drying clothes, packing and visiting before heading to the Anchorage Airport at eleven o’clock in order to catch our one am flight. We were loaded pretty heavily.  We had to put my new acquisitions in a cardboard box because all our suitcases were crammed full. In addition to our regular luggage we were given an insulated box with several large freshly caught and frozen salmon in it that are a gift from the Jeffers.

I was feeling rather embarrassed about having all this baggage and cardboard luggage until we arrived at the madhouse that is the Anchorage International Airport in the middle of night. Not that it is dark, mind you. At eleven-thirty pm the sun was just touching the horizon to the northwest, providing interesting backlighting for Mount McKinley, the tallest mountain on the North American continent.

There were easily a dozen flights leaving for the ‘Lower 48’ between midnight and three am and it would seem that everyone boarding the full flights was a fisherman judging from the stacks of insulated fish boxes we found awaiting check in. The airlines workers checking people looked pretty harassed but they were efficient.  Even arriving an hour and a half early we barely made it through check in and security with enough time for a bathroom stop before the flight boarded.

The Major and Mom Polly were very gracious and helpful. Before we joined the long line at security they gave us each big hugs and invited us back. Mom Polly actually had tears in her eyes as she asked me to call often. “You make a beautiful daughter. I wish we had more time together. I’ll miss you.”

As a parting gift, they gave Laurie and I each a pair of very pretty Forget-Me-Not earrings. The Forget-Me-Not is the Alaska state flower.

“We want you two to remember us,” the Major explained.

I have no memory of the flight to Seattle since I slept for the whole three hours. I don’t even remember the plane leaving the gate in Anchorage.

We only had about an hour in Seattle, but that was enough time for a quick breakfast at the food court. I didn’t eat much as I am suffering somewhat from mild abdominal pain and feel generally uncomfortable. The Midol that Aunt Jen gave me takes the edge off the cramps but they are still there. I also made a couple of trips to the ladies room to change pads. I had received lessons in proper pad and tampon disposal etiquette earlier but I am still disgusted by the process.

I managed to stay awake long enough on the flight to Oakland to get my free soda pop then ended up falling asleep somewhere over northern California.

The first stop after exiting the aircraft is the ladies room. Never again will I complain about all the bathroom time girls take. As we were near the back of the airplane, all the other women beat us to the restrooms so there is a long line waiting for an empty stall. Laurie sees my impatience.

“Get used to it, girl,” she quietly tells me. Another downside of being female.

Exiting the secure zone, we find my mom–Mrs. Quinn–waiting for us in the baggage claim area. I have to resist greeting her as a family member.

“Mrs. Quinn,” Laurie handles the introductions, “I’d like to you to meet my cousin, Tina Jeffers, from Alaska. Tina, this is our family friend, Mrs. Quinn.”

“Tina, is it?” she remarks, “Welcome to California.”

“It is nice to meet you, Mrs. Quinn,” I continue the game, “You must be Chris’s mother. I’ve heard a lot about you!”

“So you know about Chris,” she states with a smile.

“Oh, yes,” I reply, “Laurie’s been moaning about him being gone all week. He must be quite the guy. I feel as if I know him already.”

Laurie just rolls her eyes as Mrs. Quinn grins.

We find a cart to pile all our possessions on as they come off the baggage carousel. Mrs. Quinn expresses some concern over the volume of baggage as the mountain grows but we are successful in cramming it all in the minivan for the trip home. Lugging the heavy boxes and suitcases is much more difficult in this light female body than it was for me a week and a half ago. We find it to be definitely worth paying for help with the baggage.

It is actually a little early for lunch, however, the travelers are all hungry so we stop for brunch at Country Waffles just off the freeway near home before heading to the Mercers’ home.

Upon arrival, we unload the contents of the van into the house.  The Mercers have cleaned out the bedroom that they have been using as their home office and set up a bed and chest of drawers in the room for me. There is also a small study desk in the room. There is plenty of room for me to unload my new clothes and other stuff into the drawers and closet. Laurie helps me get things settled after dropping her suitcases off in her room. When we are done with mine we go into her room and I sit on the bed as she puts her things away.

I’ve never been in her bedroom before. It has always been off limits.

The room reminds me of my sisters’ rooms–packed with clothes, posters of guy bands and male movie stars on the wall. She has a vanity with a rack that must hold several dozen necklaces, a multitude of makeup supplies and beauty implements, hair brushes, hair clips and bands, and a framed picture of the two of us taken when we went to her Junior Prom. There is also a small study table with her laptop computer sitting on it. The bed has a pink comforter with ruffles and there are stuffed animals arrayed on the pillow, including a stuffed horse that I had given her at Christmas. This is, without any doubt, a girl’s room.

“So what now?” I ask.

“We’ve got the afternoon free, so I think that we should get you introduced to the town and some of the kids.” she says.

Almost on cue, her cell phone rings.

Checking the caller ID, she says, “It’s Amy Stevens. That’s as good of a place to start as any.”

“Hey, girl friend,” she answers the cell phone enthusiastically, “What’s been happening?”

I can only hear the one side of the conversation as they go at it for about five minutes catching up on local gossip before it seems as if they get down to business.

“Yeah, she’s with me now,” Laurie says into the receiver. “You want to meet her? ... Sure, in an hour at your house? ... We’ll be there.”

“So, I take it that we are on our way to see Amy?” I comment.

“Yes, and she is calling a couple of other girls to see if they want to come too,” she says, “It looks like it’s time for Tina to start work!”

“I’ve always wanted to see what you girls do when you hang out.” I say wryly.

“I think that you’ll find it a bit different than hanging out with the guys,” she says with a grin.

---< > ---

While waiting to go over to Amy’s house I take time to send an email to the Jeffers, letting them know of our safe arrival and thanking them for their hospitality.  Checking my male email account I find a few of email messages from my sisters, parents, and my best running friend, Dan. The camp was going to allow the staff access to computers on Sundays so that we can send emails home. I end up sending emails to my real parents and a couple of friends–including Laurie–as if I am really at camp   I tell them all that staff training week went well and that we’re expecting our first campers any time.  The troops stay only for a week at a time, from Sunday afternoon to midday Saturday.

It’s now an hour and a quarter after the phone call and we are walking the five blocks to the Stevens’ home. Since it is pretty warm I am dressed in shorts and a nice top that Laurie picked out for me.  It is almost hot–particularly after hanging out in Alaska for a week. Of course my purse is stocked with all the equipment necessary to keep a menstruating young teen girl out of trouble. On the walk over we decide to practice using the recording feature of my new cell phone so I turn it on as we approach the door.

Amy sees us coming and meets us at the door.

“Hey, Laurie,” she bubbles, “it is great to have you back! And you must be the infamous Kristina from the frozen north. Welcome to California! I hope that it’s not too hot for a northern girl. Come in where it’s cool.”

I swear she got that all out without taking a breath–and in under two seconds too. I’ve got to figure out how girls do that!

“Oh, Amy,” Laurie replies in like manner, “Alaska is sooo beautiful. You just have to go there sometime.  They have all sorts of cool things there.  Did you know that they have bears and moose running around loose right in town? And you should see the mountains there. They are sooo awesome! Yes, this is Kristina. I call her Tina for short. Tina this is Amy.”

“Hi, Amy,” I say, “it is nice to be here.”

By this time two other girls have come to join us. Of course as Chris I know both of them by sight but they are new to Tina.

“Hi, Tina,” says the tall brunette, “I’m Cindy and this is Marjorie. We’re both in Laurie’s class at school. Welcome to California. What do you think of it?”

“Nice to meet you all,” I say not knowing what else to say. “I’ve only been here a couple of hours but it seems nice.”

“Is this your first trip to the States?” Marjorie asks. I feel inclined to remind her that Alaska is part of the “States”, but let it go.

“Oh no, my dad is in the army so we’ve moved around a bit,” I follow the cover story. “We have only been in Alaska for a couple of years. Before we that we lived in Virginia, Kansas, and Georgia.”

“Oh,” Marjorie seems disappointed. “I thought from what Laurie has told us that you’d been in Alaska all your life. Oh well, at least you know what civilization is like.” I feel inclined to roll my eyes but resist the urge. My Alaskan friends told me several stories about the strange misconceptions that people seem to have about life in the 49th state. They say that you can actually play these misconceptions to your advantage if you’re looking for a little entertainment. I decide I’ll save the story about living in igloos and using dog sleds to get to school for later.

The girls go on like a house on fire for a while, catching up on all the latest gossip. While I know most of the subjects, they go so fast that I find it difficult to keep up with. If I were still a guy, I would’ve wandered off and left them to it, but as a girl I need to not only endure it but actually participate in the conversation. Good thing that they think that I don’t know anyone yet so I don’t have to contribute much.

The conversation is not completely wasted on me as one piece of the conversation does deal with Caitlin Sommers, someone I need to get to know. Caitlin is the runner girl with the snobby attitude that Mrs. Harrison wants me to befriend.

“Did you hear that Caitlin Sommers got a job at McDonalds for the summer?” Amy tells us, “Well, Cindy and I were in there on Wednesday, her first day on the job, when she said something snotty to one of the customers right in front of the manager. You should have seen his expression! He took the little bitch to the back of the store and gave her a good talking to. Rumor has it that he threatened to fire her if she did it again. Well, word got out and some of the kids that she’s been mean to in the past have made it a point to go in and push her buttons. To be fair, she has taken it pretty well, but you know that she’d like to explode.  The manager has been keeping a close eye on her. I imagine that baiting Caitlin has been good for business but hard on the girl.”

“Isn’t she one of the runner chicks?” Laurie asks.

“Yeah, your boyfriend knows her,” Amy points out.

“Tina’s a runner,” Laurie informs the group. “In fact she ran part of a marathon race yesterday.”

“Whoa, girl!” exclaims Marjorie, “Way to go! Why didn’t you finish?”

“I was on a relay team,” I inform the group. “I only ran about seven miles. I did finish my part.”

“Seven miles!” exclaimed Marjorie, “I don’t think that I’ve ever even walked that far in one day much less run it. Why would you want to do that?”

I shrug my shoulders, “I don’t know, I just like to run. It’s fun and relaxing.” I spend a few minutes trying to explain the joys of running to an unappreciative audience.

“Maybe I can get this Caitlin girl to tell me where to run around here,” I openly ponder. “I need to find someone to run with soon.”

“Well, she might be able to,” Cindy says with some reservation in her voice, “but there are a lot more sociable people out there who can help you with that I’m sure. Also, I don’t think the running team starts workouts until the end of the summer so I don’t know if she is training or not.”

Changing the subject, Amy asks us if we have our swim suits with us.

“No,” Laurie says, “we don’t feel to much like swimming today, plus I don’t think that Tina has a suit.”

“So, you girls, are on right now?” Marjorie remarks knowingly.

“I’m good to go,” Laurie says, “but Tina here is in the midst of the worst part. Also, we didn’t get any real sleep last night as we were in airports or on airplanes for what seems like the whole night so we are a little tired.”

Ignoring the tired part, Cindy’s eyes light up. “Oh great! We need to go shopping to get Tina a suit–it’s more fun than swimming anyway.” The idea takes hold with the group and I am shepherded off to the bathroom to make sure that I have a new tampon in place before we go.

It turns out that Cindy has her own car: it is an older Saturn, but gets the job done. After checking with Amy’s mother–I ‘meet’ Mrs. Stevens also while we are at their house–the five of us pile into the Saturn and head to the local Kohl’s department store where we spend over an hour looking through the junior’s section.

The general consensus is that I need a bikini–the skimpier the better. My feeling is that a bit of coverage would not be bad. The end result is that I get some hipster style bottoms with green and white horizontal stripes, a matching halter style bikini top, and a matching striped halter style tankini top that covers up my midsection and almost meets up with the bottoms.

I really like the tankini  top since I don’t feel so exposed wearing it.

Standing in front of the mirror admiring myself, it occurs to me that I have not received any conflicting messages from Brain Central in several days. This all seems so natural and–dare I say it–normal, even though it has only been about a week? Glancing at Laurie who is trying on a new halter top I realize that I am no longer consumed by the mysteries of the female body like I was as a guy. I don’t find myself aroused by this beautiful girl, although I can appreciate her beauty. In fact, I can relate to the tugging and adjusting that she is doing to check the fit around her breasts–I’ve been doing exactly the same thing. Yes, I’m pretty sure that I can follow through on my commitment to be the girl I portray this summer.

After shopping–we all came away with something new–we decide to stop at the McDonalds down the road to see if Caitlin is working. I’m not sure if this is to goad the girl or to introduce me.

Sure enough, the girl in question is standing behind the counter taking orders as we walk in the door.

As we wait in line, I notice that the kids that she is waiting on are being difficult. I also see a manager continually glancing over to watch her reactions to the bad behavior. She seems to be holding up pretty well given the load of crap she is taking from the customers. In fact, I am beginning to feel a little sorry for the girl. She is obviously resigned to her fate and patiently works through the order.

The store is not busy. In fact the only other customers at the counter are the ones whose order Caitlin is taking. There is another girl there that offers to take our order, but we wave her off and wait for Caitlin to finish with the obnoxious ones. Caitlin looks up and you can tell that she is bracing herself for more trouble.

“Welcome to McDonalds, girls. How can I help you?” she says in her best manufactured pleasant tone.  Her eyes, however, have a resigned look in them.

We place our order for drinks and some chicken nuggets then Amy says, “Caitlin, we want you to meet Tina. She’s Laurie’s cousin visiting from Alaska for the summer. She’s a distance runner and we thought you could give her some advice on where to go running since you are on the track and cross country teams.”

Caitlin glances at the manager and sees that he is focused on another task.

“I can’t talk now,” she says, “but I’m not sure how much help I can be. We don’t start practice for another month and a half and I haven’t done much running since track got out.”

“Maybe we can talk later,” I say, “I just need a few ideas. I’ll give you my cell number if you don’t mind talking to me when you have time.”

“Sure, I could do that,” she says as she heads off to fill our order. I write my number and name on a scrap of paper to give her when she gets back.

As she completes our order she says, “Thank you for coming to McDonalds and,” in a lower voice, “thanks for not being a pain like everyone else. I’ll call you tonight when I get home.” Caitlin seems like a changed girl from the Caitlin that I’ve known in the past. She actually appears to be nice.

We are just sitting down to eat when Laurie’s cell phone starts singing. Aunt Jen is calling to tell us that we’ve been invited to the Quinn’s for dinner in about an hour and that we should get home soon.

“So, how is good old Chris these days?” asks Amy. “I’m kind of glad that he is gone for the summer. Maybe we’ll have time to hang out like we did before he came along. He’s a nice kid, but I still think he’s too young for you.”

“You just wish that you had a boyfriend like him,” Laurie laughs. “You know how hard it is to find guys like Chris. I miss him dreadfully already. His cell phone doesn’t work where he is and there is only one computer in the camp.  He only can get to his email once a week. It’s really hard for us.”

“Oh, you poor girl,” Marjorie coos sarcastically, but with a smile. “How will you ever survive? Maybe you should join a convent for the summer.”

Cindy rolls her eyes and leans over to me and stage whispers, “You’re lucky to have missed this guy. Laurie gets all gooey when he’s around. I just hope we don’t have to put up with the ‘poor little me, my man is gone’ routine all summer. You should have seen them the last week of school; it was like they were stuck together by superglue or something.”

I’m actually feeling better about my relationship with Laurie as this conversation progresses. It is pretty obvious that even her closest friends think that she likes Chris a lot. This gives me hope for our relationship surviving the summer.

“Hey, Laurie,” Amy exclaims, “you talked about a slumber party before you left for Alaska; when do you want to have it? I think that all of us work during the week, so maybe Friday? We can have it at my house since we’ve got a pool we can do some swimming.  Also, Dad had that new big HDTV installed last winter for the Superbowl. He even hooked it in with his big stereo system, so we can watch some videos or whatever. What do you, guys, think?”

Everyone seems up for the suggestion, so we all agree to check with our parents and talk more about it tomorrow. I share my cell phone number with the group so that I can keep in touch as well. It seems that I am readily accepted as a part of the group even though I’m a year younger than the rest.

I wave to Caitlin on the way out to the car. She is busy with another obnoxious group of teens but gives me a small wave back. It seems pretty obvious that the girl is not at all happy. I imagine her problem is the new job. She has never struck me as being the type of person that would be good at customer service. It must be hard for her. I wonder why she’s doing it and how long it will last. At least I’ve made first contact with one of the people that the Lab security team wants me to befriend.

Cindy drops Laurie and me off at the Mercer home after we leave the restaurant. Aunt Jen has taken a nap and seems to be pretty chipper. She has taken one of the salmon fillets out to thaw and is preparing it for the grill. The fresh salmon is our contribution to the night’s dinner. Dr. Quinn will put it on the grill when we get there.

“Hey, girls,” she says, “you’re cutting it a bit fine here. Why don’t you go put on something nice then we can go.”

Back in my new room, I evaluate my clothing options. I know that I want to look nice for my real parents but I want it to be conservative and comfortable. I don’t really have a lot to choose from. I end up with the tiered skirt and a reasonably loose top. Just to see what happens, I opt for a pushup bra. I brush my hair and try to tie it back with a ribbon. It takes a couple of tries before I give up and use a hair clip. I wear the high heeled shoes that I wore on our big night out last week. I need more practice in them anyway.

The next stop is the bathroom to refresh my feminine hygiene products. There is quite a supply in the cabinet under the counter. Sitting the toilet I gingerly extract the tampon from my new anatomy. The blood soaked device is really gross. Wrapping it in toilet paper, I drop it in the waste basket. I decide to use a large thick pad in place of the tampon. The flow of blood appears to be pretty heavy, but I don’t really have a reference. This is definitely one part of being a girl that won’t be missed when this job is over.

Cleaning up, I join my aunt and cousin in the kitchen.

“You look very nice, darling,” Aunt Jen says to me. “Why don’t you two wear your new earrings? And, Tina, you should wear some sort of necklace.”

Back to my room I go to get the suggested jewelry. I don’t have much to choose from, so I decide to wear the heart pendant in addition to the Forget-Me-Not earrings.

I am more than a little nervous about this first meeting of the family. Mom–Mrs. Quinn–told us this morning that Tiff has come home for the summer. I don’t think that Tiff is in the loop on my sex change so I’ve got to keep up the facade in my own home.

Arriving at the Quinn’s–it is all I can do to keep from just walking in–I stand back from the door, carrying the fish, as Aunt Jen rings the bell.  Tiff opens the door.

“Hello, Mrs. Mercer and Laurie,” she happily greets the two Mercers with a little hug. “And you must be Kristina,” she says to me. “Welcome to our home. I’m Tiffany–most people just call me Tiff. Come in, everyone. Here, let me take the fish while you all go through to the living room.”

Entering the living room behind the Mercers, I see Marla standing on the far side of the room looking me over. Mom and Dad are in the kitchen with Tiff. Marla is making me nervous. I never know what to expect from her.

Laurie takes it upon herself to make the introductions.

“Hey, Marla,” she says, “how are things? I’d like you to meet my Alaskan cousin, Kristina Jeffers. Tina, this is Marla, Chris’s other sister.”

Marla walks over to me, looking me over from head to toe. “It is nice to meet you. Tina, is it? The name suits you.”

She gives me a friendly hug and whispers in my ear, “Definitely an improvement over the previous model. You look nice.”

I whisper in her ear, “Thanks. You always look nice. Thank you for helping me.”

She gives me a strange look as she steps back from the hug. I guess that she’s not used to pleasantries from her former little brother. I smile happily at her which causes further confusion. I can tell that she is bursting with questions but knows better than to get into it now.

“Hey, Laurie,” Marla asks, “where is the runner necklace?”

“Tina gave it to one of her running partners after a race they ran yesterday,” Laurie replies. “Do think that there are any more at your store?”

“I’m pretty sure that I saw a silver one at the jewelry counter the other day. I’ll check tomorrow” she replies. “So Tina, you’re a runner? My brother Chris likes running a lot. You two would get along well if he were here.”

“Yes,” I say, “from what I’ve heard of Chris, we are a lot alike in that way. I ran as part of a marathon relay team yesterday. It was fun.”

“I’ll never understand what you see in it,” she says shaking her head. “Running is just too much like hard work.”

Tiff comes in to join us. “What’s this I hear,” she asks, “Tina is a runner like Chris? It’s probably a good thing for Laurie that he is off the camp this summer otherwise he might run off with you. I gather from Chris that Laurie’s only weakness is that she is not a distance runner.”

“Well, I’m sure that my cousin has many other redeeming qualities that keep his attention,” I reply with a blush.

“Oh she does,” Tiff says emphatically. “According to Chris she walks on water and is the source of light for the entire universe.” Now it is Laurie’s turn to blush.

Mrs. Quinn joins the crowd, hearing the last statement.

“Ah, Laurie, you are good for Chris,” she says. “We like having you around here too. Don’t be a stranger this summer. You are always welcome here. Tina, it is good to see you again. Are you all settled in?”

“Thank you for inviting us over tonight,” I respond. “I’m just starting to find my way around.”

Marla pipes up, “Mom, Tina here is a runner like our Chris. She ran in a marathon relay yesterday. We were just telling her that Chris is a runner too. It’s too bad that their paths won’t cross this summer.”

“Oh my, not another runner!” Mrs. Quinn exclaims in mock horror. We must have not told her that this morning. “How did your race go yesterday, Tina?”

“Fine,” I reply, “we finished eighth amongst the relay teams and first in our division. It was fun.”

“Was your team all high school girls?” She asked.

“No, actually I was the only high school kid on the team,” I say, “The other three, a woman and two men, are in my father’s army unit.”

“Did you do well?”

“I was the second fastest on our team, behind the other girl,” I grin. “The guys were a little embarrassed, but they’ll get over it. At least we beat all the other military teams.”

Now Dad walks into the room. “The fish is on the grill, ladies. It should be done in about 20 minutes if I read the recipe correctly,” he announces to the gathering. Turning to me, he asks “And who might this lovely creature be?”

Marla rolls her eyes and makes gagging motions behind his back. Tiff slaps her on the shoulder and looks at her strangely. I just blush.

Aunt Jen says, “Michael, this is my niece, Kristina Jeffers. She goes by Tina. Tina, this is Dr. Quinn.”

“It is nice to meet you, Dr. Quinn,” I say, holding out my hand in greeting. He ignores it and gives me friendly hug instead which gives Tiff a shock. It is out of character for Dad to hug a stranger.

“Welcome to California, Honey, and in particular, welcome to our home,” he says. “I hear that you are staying the summer and will be working out at the lab.”

“That’s correct. Laurie and I start there tomorrow,” I say.

“Maybe we’ll see you there,” he says, “without Chris here to attract the lovely Laurie to our home, I don’t imagine that we’ll be seeing much of you two this summer, but you are always welcome in our home.”

Has Dad always been this sappy? Now that I think on it, he has always been super nice to our female friends. It just seems strange to be on the receiving end.

Tiff tells him, “Tina was just telling us about the marathon relay that she ran in yesterday. It sounds as if she runs like Chris. We were commenting that it is too bad that he’s not here to run with her.”

I take a few minutes to recount the race–again–but in more detail now that everyone is present. I made sure to avoid the word ‘jogging’ while emphasizing the word ‘running’.

“Amazing,” he says, “and you enjoy all this running?”

“Yes, Sir, I do,” I tell him. “It’s how I find balance in life.”

“And where have we heard that before?” asks Mrs. Quinn rhetorically. “Now, everyone, let’s get dinner on the table.”

Even though I know where everything is in the house, I stand by like a newcomer and just follow directions as the dishes are all placed on the table. Last of all, Dr. Quinn brings in the salmon on a large platter.  The fish is complemented with fresh salad, asparagus, and rice. By the time we get through the dessert of apple pie and ice cream, both Laurie and I are feeling the effect of a missed night’s sleep even though it only a little past seven pm.

After helping with the clean up I ask for directions to the bathroom; passing the doorway to my old room, I can’t resist a peak inside. It is not vacant. It appears that Tiff has set up camp for the summer in my place. It seems almost as if I have been replaced.

After I return to the living room the three of us make our excuses and head back to the Mercer’s home with an open invitation to stop in anytime at the Quinn’s.

We are ‘home’ in under five minutes. As we are walking through the door, my cell phone starts moaning. I’ve been told that the ring tone is the sound that a moose makes. It is weird, but Alaskan. I will probably change it. Answering, I find Caitlin on the line.

After exchanging greetings, she asks, “So you want to do some running?”

“Yes, I do,” I reply. “I normally run four to eight miles a day at home and longer on Saturdays. Can you help me find a place to run and maybe a running partner? My Dad doesn’t want me to run alone, particularly in a strange place.”

“Wow, girl, that’s a lot of running!” she exclaims, “I was about suggest that we try running together, but there is no way that I can keep up with that kind of schedule without some serious training. The only one that I know that runs like that year round is a guy named Chris who is on our cross country team, but he’s out of town for the summer.”

“I’ve heard of him,” I tell her. “He is my cousin’s boyfriend. She has been pining over him all week.”

“Chris is a good sort but I’m not sure what Laurie sees in him,” she says. “She could have just about any guy in her class if she would loosen up a bit. Anyway, would you like to get together and try a short run tomorrow sometime? I have the day off. I’m not sure that I can keep up with you, but we can try.”

Interesting comment about Laurie. I’ll have to find out what that means.

“I start a new job tomorrow and I’m not sure when I’ll be done,” I tell her. “I suspect that it’ll be around 5 pm. Can we get together after that?”

“Sure,” she replies, “It gets cooler in the evening anyway, which is nice. Let’s say around 7 o’clock? That would give you time to get home and have a light snack. Where are you going to be working?”

“My aunt helped me get a job where she works–a place she calls ‘The Lab’. I am to be a temp office helper. Do you know the place?” I ask.

“Yeah, I know the place,” she answers. “Everyone around here does. My dad works out there. He’s a chemist and does some kind of research. How’d you score a job at the Lab? It beats the heck out of Micky D’s.”

“I’m not sure,” I reply, “but my parents want me to have a character building work experience away from home, so my aunt helped line this up.”

“Talk about character building work experiences, my parents are forcing me to work at Micky D’s and if I get fired they’ll find something worse. I hate the place. I was hoping to just hang out with my friends this summer.” The bitterness just drips from this girl.

“I hear you, girl,” I commiserate with her, “I was hoping for the same thing this summer, but good old Mom & Dad felt that I needed a break from my friends and to do some ‘growing up’. Something about my friends being a bad influence and idleness being a problem.”

“As if running four to eight miles a day is idleness! I think our parents must have gone to the same parenting school. Your parents sound almost exactly like mine,” she sighs.

I think that I am making the connection that Mrs. Harrison wants so this is good. I’m not real comfortable playing the part of a troubled girl, but it appears that is just what Caitlin is. Maybe I can help her. Who knows?

We agree to meet at the local high school track at seven tomorrow after I check with Laurie to see if she can give me a ride.

After hanging up, I visit with Laurie in her room. She has already changed into her night clothes. It is strange having free access to her bedroom, however it only feels as if I am just hanging out with one of my sisters. There’s not even a stir from Brain Central on this one.

I had recorded my conversation with Caitlin and replay it for Laurie. I’m pretty sure that we broke some kind of law by recording the conversation but we won’t save it. Having a recorded conversation is certainly handy since you don’t have to remember everything that was said.

Laurie is pretty impressed with how easy it was to make friends with Caitlin. My first move is ahead of schedule. We still need to find a way to connect with Andy Lang, the quiet loner that Mrs. Harrison wants us to befriend. We think that task will be much more difficult.

But first, we have to find him.

---< >---

Thanks again to Gabi for her editing efforts. I particularly appreciate learning the difference between ‘English’ and ‘American’!

Something Feels Strange…

Laurie is pretty impressed with how easy it was to make friends with Caitlin. My first move is ahead of schedule. We still need to find a way to connect with Andy Lang, the quiet loner that Mrs. Harrison wants us to befriend. We think that task will be much more difficult.

But first, we have to find him.

Chapter 22: The First Day on the Job

The alarm on my cell phone is playing "Oh What a Beautiful Morning"–an optimistic way to start the day.

I feel very refreshed after a night’s deep sleep–I don’t even remember having any dreams. It is five thirty in the morning and I am aware of dampness in my crotch. I’m pretty sure that I’m going to find a very bloody pad in my panties when I get to the bathroom. The thought dispels any good feelings that I was having about the morning. At least the cramping seems to have passed.

Rolling out of bed, I feel some leakage as I get vertical and head for the bathroom. No one else is up yet, so I have the bathroom to myself. The damage is worse than I thought. The thick overnight pad was overwhelmed and has stained my panties.  There is also some blood on the inside of my night shirt. With a sigh, I dispose of the offending pad and put the panties and night shirt to soak in cold water in the sink as I contemplate my next move. Unfortunately, I didn’t bring a spare set of panties with me to the bathroom. This girl stuff can be a real pain sometimes.

Pondering the problem as I sit on the throne, I find a tampon within reach. I install the dastardly device to staunch the flow and it seems to work. Since I’m here, I decide to take a shower. I haven’t had one since Saturday and it feels like it.

The hot water feels extra nice today. I should have thought of this when I was cramping. I’m sure that it would have helped. While I was luxuriating in the shower, I hear the bathroom door open and someone sit on the toilet.

“Good morning, girl friend,” Laurie says in a sleepy voice, “I see that you had a problem this morning.”

“Good morning,” I say more brightly than I feel. “Would you be a good friend and go get me another pair of panties? I don’t want to drip blood all the way down the hall.”

“Morning people–you gotta love ’em,” she sighs as she flushes the toilet then runs my errand.

Finishing my shower, I step out of the shower to find that Laurie has left the requested items on the counter. It appears that she took my soiled laundry to be cleaned, which was nice of her. I install a pad in my new panties as I slip them on then wrap a towel around myself and head for my room.

Considering the clothing alternatives, I decide–in typical male fashion–that the clothes I wore last night were as good as any.  Hey! They are accessible, hadn’t worn for long, and still appear to be clean.

The push up bra did not seem to garner any specific attention last night, so I decide to wear a more comfortable one today.

Has it only been a week? I think to myself as I buckle the bra in front of me then deftly finish the installation process as if I’d been doing it for years. Running my hand over my now smooth crotch I think that I am even starting to forget what it was like to have the male equipment. The lack of obstruction is starting to feel pretty natural.

I sigh in resignation as I work to apply my makeup in a respectable manner. I guess I’ve just been so busy I haven’t had time to dwell upon the changes. In a way, I’m happy that I haven’t had the time to stew over it. Now I’ve a week’s experience of being a girl, it doesn’t seem too bad. In some ways, it’s a great adventure. I only wish I could skip the period part but then I guess most girls feel the same way.

Before going to bed last night, Laurie and I spent some time repainting our finger and toe nails then experimented with my hair. I really like pulling the sides of my hair back and using a large hair clip to keep it there, so that is what I did again today.

Before heading to the kitchen for breakfast, I remember the circular container of birth control pills that we put in one of my desk drawers. Pulling out the package I just stare at it for a few minutes. I took the first pill yesterday and now it is time for number two. Birth control pills: the very thought of what these little pills imply causes a shiver to run up my spine.

I can get pregnant now. I’ve repeated that phrase to myself a few times this week and it freaks me out.

I can get pregnant now. Getting pregnant would really change the whole landscape of my life. I bet that it would prevent any transition back to being Christopher.

I can get pregnant now. I am beginning to appreciate why some girls–Laurie for example–are so reluctant to engage in sexual relations. This little pill doesn’t look like it could stop anything! A condom has its faults too. There is risk involved with any ‘protection’. I hate unnecessary risk–particularly if I’m the one taking the biggest risk.

I can get pregnant now. I still have trouble with the concept of being the female half of sexual intercourse, but the idea does not seem quite so foreign as it did a week ago. I’ve yet to have time to thoroughly explore my new equipment. I really need to find some personal quiet time soon so that I can do that.

I can get pregnant now. I can produce a new person. Well, I could do that before, but not in the very personal way that I can now. Being a parent comes with an awesome responsibility that takes a lot more maturity and preparation than I currently have. It also takes nine months to produce a new person. Pregnancy doesn’t look like any fun; and then there is the delivery–I don’t even want to think about that.

I can get pregnant now. I don’t want to get pregnant now. It seems that the only sure way to avoid pregnancy is to avoid sex. I can do that as long as it is not forced upon me. It sobers me to think that I have to be careful to avoid situations where that might happen.

I can get pregnant now. And this pill is the only line of defence within my control that I can employ to prevent pregnancy. I don’t have control over what the male half will do.

With strong encouragement from Brain Central–safety first being its motto–I eagerly gulp down the pill. I’m really glad I’ve a three month supply.

Joining the ladies for a breakfast of fruit and bagels I am informed that girls don’t wear the same clothes two days in a row unless there are no alternatives.

“What?” I exclaim, “I hardly wore these last night! Only when we went to the Quinn’s and I didn’t sweat in them or anything.”

“Judging from the morning’s laundry,” Aunt Jen says with a sigh, “at least you changed your underwear! Tina, you’ve come a long way the last week but there is still some polishing to do before you become a typical young lady.”

I am saved from having to change by it being too late to do so.  Hay-ho it’s off to work we go.

Aunt Jen has to sign us in as visitors at the guard shack that blocks the entrance to the complex. She escorts us to the personnel office where we are passed on to a clerk. As we are ushered into a waiting area, we are surprised to see Tiff, along with several other people. She didn’t say anything about her starting work here when we saw her last night.

The next several hours are spent filling out employment paperwork and doing some basic training on time reporting, laboratory security policies, and safety regulations. Among the many forms that we fill out is are a number of confidentiality forms concerned with disclosure of classified information and on the restrictions that will be imposed as the result of our relatively low security clearances. It seems it’s a little late for these forms! By lunch time, we walk out of the personnel department with newly minted employee identification badges that are to be kept visible at all times while on the facility. The pictures are pretty good for ID badges. The young guy running the camera took several pictures of each of us and let us pick our favorite. I have an idea that he has a thing for Tiff and I’ll bet that he kept at least one of the images for himself. She flirted with him just a little. It was interesting to see what he would do to gain her favor.

The three of us meet Aunt Jen and Mrs. Quinn for lunch at an on-site cafeteria. Dr. Quinn apparently can’t get away to join us.

“How was new employee orientation?” Aunt Jen asks to no one in particular.

“Oh great, Mom,” Laurie replies, “we can now tell you all the dire consequences of having loose lips, being in the wrong place, and looking cross eyed at the security guards. And not only that, but Tiff here batted her eyes at the camera guy and he made sure to get good pictures for our IDs.”

“I did not bat my eyes at the guy,” Tiff says with some indignation. “I’ll have you know that I only winked at him. If Tina had made eyes at him, however, I think that the poor boy would have sent out for a professional photographer.”

“As if,” I pretend to pout, “I’m too young for him and he knows it. You’re more in his league, Tiff.” We all break into giggles at that. The conversation continues in that vein for a while before we need to finish up.

“Okay, girls,” Aunt Jen pronounces. “I hate to break up the fun, but it’s time to get to work.”

With that, we part company. Tiff is going to be working with one of the research projects so she heads off to report for duty. Aunt Jen takes Laurie and me to see Mrs. Harrison.

“Here are my two wayward charges, Susan,” Aunt Jen says. “You know Laurie. This one is my niece Tina. You girls behave yourselves and call me when you’re ready to go home.” With that introduction, Aunt Jen headed back to her own office.

“Girls, welcome to the Lab,” Mrs. Harrison says with a smile.

The remainder of the afternoon is spent learning our new duties as temporary office help. We are schooled in the fine arts of making copies, collating and binding reports, shredding documents, answering telephones, making coffee, etc. Real intellectual stuff–Not!

Laurie hands her old cell phone over to one of Mrs. Harrison’s assistants and, later in the afternoon, is given a new one similar to mine, with her old number.

Not one word is said about our mission. This is probably because there are other interns in and out as the afternoon progressed and, as we were told in Alaska, this is to be relatively deep cover so that we don’t discuss it at all while at work.

The closest discussion to the undercover assignment came in mid-afternoon when we chat about our plans for the summer.

“Tina,” says Mrs. Harrison, “I hear that you like to run distances.”

“That’s true, Mrs. Harrison,” I reply, “I really like to run. In fact I have already been looking for a running partner and some routes to train on while I am down here. Yesterday, Laurie and some of her friends introduced me to a girl named Caitlin Sommers who is on the cross country and track teams at the local high school. In fact, Caitlin and I plan on going for a short run later this evening.”

“My,” she exclaims, “don’t you work fast? My son Ben is also a runner and I do a bit myself. Maybe we all can get in a few runs together.” I can tell from the expression on her face that she is pleased that I have already connected with Caitlin.

“I’d like that.” I smile at her.

“Maybe we can run Saturday,” she suggests.

“Sounds like fun,” I tell her, “but I’m not sure how early I can be available. Laurie and her friends have invited me to a sleepover Friday. I’m not sure what shape I’ll be in come morning.”

“Oh, I remember those days!” she reminisces, “If the sleepover is anything like the ones we had when I was a girl, you won’t be up before noon. Let’s talk about the run later in the week. Now, for work, I have a couple of departments that need our help. I’m not surprised that you two have picked up the required skills so quickly, after all this isn’t rocket science. Since you seem to have the basics under control I’ll be sending you and Laurie on separate assignments tomorrow. I already have assigned other interns to the same departments so they can help you get your feet on the ground. I think that they will keep you busy for most of the week.”

Late in the afternoon I receive a text from Caitlin making sure that we are still on for running this evening. When I get a break I text her back confirming the appointment. I am more than a little surprised at how Caitlin is jumping at this opportunity. It is so unlike the Caitlin I thought I knew. I wonder if she is seeking friendship or just someone to train with. I guess I’ll find out tonight.

As the afternoon progresses it seems to drag on from minute to minute. I hope this gets more interesting!  The one bit of good news is that my period seems to be slowing down a bit. The last few trips to the bathroom have yielded less full pads. I certainly hope that the worst is over.

Laurie and I walk over to meet Aunt Jen at her car when we are done for the day. We spend the short drive home talking about our days. We mention to Aunt Jen that this job has the potential to be tedious and boring.

“Every job has its tedium,” she tells us. “In this case, you’re right. The work you’ll be doing is well below your talents, but that’s part of the intent of the investigation. We want everyone to think that it is at the limit of your capacity so that they will underestimate you.”

“However,” she continues, “with the right attitude, you can find ways make even the mundane tasks rewarding. The key is to look beyond the immediate task and see how it fits in with the bigger picture. You need to see the value of its contribution to some bigger purpose. For example, collating and binding a hundred copies of a report may be exceedingly boring, but it becomes worth doing if you realize that the report will trigger other actions that will go on to accomplish great things. The report is a necessary step to a larger purpose. You can also look at such tasks as helping someone that really needs it. You can see that you are helping someone near to you in a way that makes a difference for them.”

That sounds a lot like finding joy in training for distance running. The hours spent training are–in and of themselves–boring to the average person. But for those that are weird–like me–there are other rewards such as success running in competitions, time to meditate on life’s problems, and the euphoria of being physically fit–to name but a few.

Dinner is a chef’s salad that we all help create. I only eat a little since I don’t want much on my stomach for a run. I also notice that it doesn’t take too much to fill me up these days either: gone are the days of wolfing down a big burger, fries, soda, and a couple of cookies. It is doubtful that I could accomplish such a task with this body! Eating has always been a favorite pastime of mine. Just another thing to readjust to, I sigh. Eating big is something to look forward to when I change back into Christopher again.

After changing into my running clothes and ensuring that all the feminine ‘protection’ is correctly installed, I have Laurie take me over to the High School to meet Caitlin who we find waiting for us waiting by her nice new silver Toyota Prius. Somebody has some money–she didn’t buy this thing on a McDonald’s wages! I remember her with it the last part of the semester.

“Cool car,” I tell her.

“Yeah,” she says, “isn’t it? My parents gave it to me on my birthday. I have to pay for the gas, so it is nice to have a high mileage car.”

Looking inside, it is definitely a girl’s car.  It has a necklace with hearts hanging from the rear view mirror, and there are little stuffed animals strewn about. It has a six disk CD changer, a place to plug in an iPod, a blue tooth connection for her cell phone, and makeup mirrors on the visors. It is quite the car. The girl can’t be TOO miserable.

“So, girls,” Laurie brings us back to the present, “when should I come back to get Tina?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Caitlin says, “I’ll take her home.”

“Thanks, Caitlin,” Laurie responds. “I have some errands to run, so I’ll see you back at the house, Tina.”

“Bye, Cous’,” I wave to her.

Caitlin is wearing some very nice–if not skimpy–running clothes.  The shorts look more like a swimsuit bottom that really shows off her nicely formed legs and well rounded posterior. The cropped tank top leaves her navel exposed and lets the world see her slender waist. This will certainly distract a few male drivers! I look pretty dowdy in comparison wearing my loose running shorts and long Airborne T-Shirt. The T-shirt is quickly becoming one of my favorites.

The old high school is not exactly on the edge of town, but–after stretching and making small talk–Caitlin leads me on a road that heads to the edge of town and along a few vineyards owned by the local wineries.  I wonder if she knows about the shortcut between the fields?

We keep the pace much slower than I am capable of as we set off. It is a comfortable chatting pace for me. Caitlin, however, struggles a little with the pace.

“So, Tina,” she asks, “what happened to earn you banishment to the relatives?”

Time to get into character. “Oh, I don’t know,” I replied, “I met some new kids in school this year that are less intense about academics and I guess that I got caught up in their attitude. They were starting to get into some trouble around school–you know–like not taking crap from teachers and stuff. I guess that I was having too much sympathy with them. One day I told a math teacher what he could do with Algebra and got an in-school suspension for a week. It was sooo unfair! The guy is a jerk but I guess getting in his face and shouting at him was going too far. I’m sure the episode also cost me a full grade in the class at the end of the semester. I started getting relaxed in other subjects as well so my grades have been slipping. I’m not sure what the big deal is. I’m still in the top half of my class. The only problem that I’ve seen is that I’ve drifted apart from some of my long time friends. I feel bad about that. How about you and the job?”

Some guy honks at us and calls out his window as he drives past, “Hey, Caitlin, looking good! Maybe you and your friend should hop in and let me take you for a ride!”

“Get lost, Jack!” she yells back. Definitely not the polite little McDonald’s girl. All this gets her is a wolf whistle as the car continues up the road.

“Oh,” she says continuing the conversation as if nothing had happened, “I guess I got too sarcastic with my parents for their liking. They are unreasonable a lot, but can’t seem to see it. They say I dress too provocatively,”–she does–“I’m not nice to people,”–that’s an understatement–“I’m too self centered,”–an accurate description from what I’ve seen over the years–“and that I’m lazy”–well she’s not anywhere near the top of her school class and she never realizes her potential on the track and cross country teams. “They think that a service job where I have to pretend to be nice to people will teach me to overcome my ‘weaknesses’.”

I’m still trying to figure out why she agreed to go running with me. The Caitlin I know has distain for just about everyone and does not go out of her way to make friends. The few friends that she has seem to hang on because she has money and they feel similarly abused by the world. I guess birds of a feather do flock together.

“How about your friends?” I ask her.

“My parents feel the same about my friends,” she replies, “They’d like me to find some new ones. I only have a couple of friends and they are pretty self centered and can get pretty bitchy, but we hang together most of the time. I’ve only been at McDonald’s for a week and I’ve had to learn that being nice to people is probably a better way to part them from their money. My parents have been telling me that being nice to people in general might help me get along better and help me get around all the people that dump on me at school. I guess that I need to learn how to do it.”

“You seem pretty nice to me,” I tell her sincerely–trying to forget what I know about her. “It’s nice of you to take a stranger out running when I’m sure that you have better things to do.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she admits, “I just felt that it might be nice to go with someone that hasn’t pigeon holed me as a nasty bitch yet. It would be nice to have a few new friends. I also thought that this might be a good excuse to get in shape for the running season in the fall.”

It looks as I’ve caught her just as she is contemplating a life change. That is lucky for me and the investigation.

As we continue with the run, the conversation lightens up and she tells me that she and some friends are heading up to the local reservoir with her parents and their boat to water ski and have a barbecue on Saturday afternoon. She invites me to go with them. I can bring Laurie with me if I like. I tell her that I have to check with the home front before I can commit to the party. I told her about Mrs. Harrison’s offer to go running on Saturday, but it doesn’t look like that the run will work out if I go to the reservoir.

We arrive back at the school about half an hour after starting out. Caitlin is slightly out of breath and has a nice sheen of perspiration–girl’s don’t sweat–and I have barely warmed up yet. There is a great difference in our conditioning. She agrees to wait another twenty minutes while I run the track. The track is boring, but I’m not comfortable running alone as a girl yet.  I really pick up the pace to run another three miles in under twenty one minutes before cooling down. I really worked up a heavy sweat–there is no way that you can call this perspiration–which feels good.

“Wow, girl,” Caitlin exclaims as I return to where she is watching from the bleachers, “you can really run! I wish that I could run like that. Are you sure that you can’t stay and be on our team in the fall? I really think that you should be running with the boys. I know a couple that might be able to keep up with you.  Too bad Chris is gone for the summer, he’s the best of the bunch.”

I start to take my shirt off to wipe the sweat off my face before I remember that girls can’t do that. Looking across the track I see a woman stretching wearing shorts and a jog bra so maybe it is all right. I need to do something to wipe the sweat from my face and neck. I must remember to bring a towel next time. A water bottle would also be nice right now.

Taking the shirt off, I wipe the sweat from my face.

“I’ve got a towel in the car that we can put on the seat,” Caitlin informs me. I notice that she is keeping her distance as if my sweat will somehow attack her.

On the way home, we agree to run again tomorrow as she works the opening shift in the morning and will be available in the evening. She says that she’ll try to get some other kids to go with us. She seems excited about the chance to run together for some reason.  This is not the Caitlin that I thought I knew.

Laurie is home already when I get to her house. I am banished to the shower before being allowed to be in the presence of polite company.

After a quick shower I install a pad in a fresh pair of panties and wrap a towel around me before heading to my room.  When I get there, I find Laurie sitting on my bed in a nightgown fiddling with her new cell phone.

“How’d it go?” she asks without looking up.

Now this is strange. I guess the ground rules really are changing.

“I’m not sure what just happened,” I replied as I dig through my drawers looking for a fresh nightgown. “Are you sure this is the same Caitlin that we’ve known all these years? I always thought that she was pretty stuck up and bitchy. She was downright friendly.” I told her more details from our run.

“Wow,” Laurie responds in wonder, “maybe aliens came and took her away while we were gone.”

“I don’t know,” I say, “but I think that the girl is ready for a change. Her parents are forcing her into a service job in hopes that she will learn how to be nice to people.  She’s not happy but I think she is starting to see the value of treating people better.  She is a quick learner. She seems anxious for me to become one of her friends for some reason. I’m not sure if I can stomach her sidekicks though. I’m pretty sure that I’ll be able to get into her confidence pretty soon. Her parents seem to buy her anything she wants and they live in a very expensive home so they are either independently wealthy, getting money from somewhere other than the Lab, or are in debt up to their ears. It seems the Sommers might be a likely candidate for traitor of the year if their money comes from foreign sources.”

I look over at Laurie and see she is still distracted by her new electronic toy, so I turn my back to her and drop the towel and quickly put on my night clothes acting as if nothing strange is going on. It will take some time to be comfortable being naked around her.

“Have you checked your email since we got home?” She asks. “I bet you have a few from Alaska.”

“I check my old one yesterday, but no, I haven’t checked Tina’s. We’ve been too busy. I’ll do it now,” I reply as I reach over to turn on the machine.

Sure enough, there are emails from Don, Tom, Helen and Mom Polly. I have three from Joey.  I also have one from Marla. That’s more email than I’ve ever had in a day.

“Oh wow... look who’s popular!” Laurie says as she looks over my shoulder. “I got some from the Jeffers and Don also. They just want to make sure that we got home alright. What do Joey and Don want?”

Don and Joey also ask about the trip. Don wants to know if I plan on coming back and if we can keep in touch. Joey, seems like a love-starved puppy.  His emails go on about how wonderful it was to meet such a beautiful girl that wasn’t all stuck up. He went on and on about how cool it is that a girl can be so hot and so down to earth. My running also impressed him. He says that he is trying to convince his parents that they need to have a family vacation in California so that he can come see me. Oh, boy! I don’t think that he got the memo. And here was I thinking I had gotten things all settled on Saturday afternoon. Marla sent me one to say that she’d picked up a new runner necklace for me.

Laurie is grinning that ‘I-told-you-so’ grin. “It’s a good thing that Joey’s not a girl chasing my Chris. I could get jealous! It looks to me as if lover boy still has you in his sights,”

I spend a little time typing quick responses about the trip and how we made it safely. I only do a short email to Joey saying that it was nice the meet him, but that my plans for the summer were still fluid and he shouldn’t come to California on my account. I might not be around.

I reply to Marla’s email thanking her for getting the necklace and asking her to give the necklace to her mother to give to me at work.

While working on the email, I ask Laurie if she’s found out anything about Andy.

“I heard that he might be working at the video store on Holmes street, so I stopped in there. I asked a girl I know there if he was around.  She said that he didn’t work there. She said that that he might be working at the other branch out by the freeway so I checked there. He doesn’t work there either. I asked around a little and no one seems to have seen him since school got out. We may need to find a reason to go by his house.” The Langs live in older part of town with mid-sized homes so it shouldn’t be too hard to find him.

We just need a reason to talk with him. That stumps us. We decide to keep thinking about it. Something is bound to turn up if we keep working on it.

It is getting pretty late by the time Laurie says goodnight and heads for her own room.

Laying in the dark waiting for sleep to claim me, I review the day and feel pretty pleased with life in general. I’m feeling more comfortable as a girl and am making progress with my assignment. I’ll just be glad to get past this period. Tomorrow I can begin looking for mislaid secrets. I wonder how long it will take to find something useful. I think back to my father’s–that is, Dr. Quinn’s–statement on the way to the airport; “you will probably never know if you helped or not.”

I certainly hope that he’s wrong! I’m looking forward to some excitement.

---< >---

Editing by Gabi
Thanks again, Gabi.

Something Feels Strange…

Laying in the dark waiting for sleep to claim me, I review the day and feel pretty pleased with life in general. I’m feeling more comfortable as a girl and am making progress with my assignment. I’ll just be glad to get past this period. Tomorrow I can begin looking for mislaid secrets. I wonder how long it will take to find something useful. I think back to my father’s–that is, Dr.Quinn’s–statement on the way to the airport; “you will probably never know if you helped or not.”

Chapter 23: The Slumber Party

I certainly hope that he’s wrong! I’m looking forward to some excitement.

---

 

It is Friday after work and I am standing in the middle of my room feeling more than a little bit anxious. Tonight is my introduction to slumber partying. What’s a girl to wear?

So, you ask, what’s happened since Monday night?

A lot on one hand, but not much at all on the other.

A lot in that I’ve been pretty busy most of the week, so I haven’t had a lot of free time. Mind you, it has not been nearly as packed as the trip to Alaska, but even so, I haven’t had more than a half hour of free time all week.

Not much at all in the sense that the days have been routine for the most part. Usually it’s just get up, go to work, come home, make a light dinner, go running with Caitlin and some of the kids from the cross country team, then spend a little time answering email and visiting with the Mercers before going to bed. I also spent a little time each evening practicing with makeup and reading fashion magazines so that I can get this girl thing down better. I did spend one evening at the Sommer’s home.

Caitlin seems to have taken a real shine to me and has shown marked improvement in both her running and her attitude as the week has progressed. She picked me up after work on Wednesday and we had an early run with some of the other runners before having dinner at her house with her parents and two younger brothers. They seemed like decent people to me. Caitlin had me take a shower before dinner as I tend to work up a heavy sweat while running. We spent some time going through her closet, looking at clothes. This is, apparently, a normal girl activity so I tried to be interested; it was actually more fun than I thought it would be. I find it intriguing to see just how much thought goes into a girl’s wardrobe and I continued to learn more about female clothing accessories. While her wardrobe is quite a bit racier than I care for, I did see a few items that I think I wouldn’t mind adding to my own wardrobe.

Fortunately, I’m a little bigger than Caitlin so her clothes won’t fit me and I can avoid trying on the tight, revealing clothes that make up most of her wardrobe.  It is rather obvious that she wants to spice up my image–rather more than I’d like. As she modeled some of her favorite pieces for me, I found myself being pretty self-conscious the first time she stripped down to her white satin panties and matching pushup bra to try on a dress but by the time we were done I was feeling a lot more comfortable seeing her nearly naked. After all, I’ve been seeing the same thing every day for a week and a half now as I get dressed. In fact, it occurred to me at one point that if I had still been male, the sight of this cute girl, wearing next to nothing, would have set off a strong hormonal reaction and made life very uncomfortable indeed.  It was with some sense of loss that I realized that the scene did not result in a normal male response. It’s impossible to get a hard-on when you’re a girl.

Running with a few of my old team mates as a newbie has been difficult emotionally–I had to keep myself from acting like an old friend. I must earn a right to be a part of this group based on my current circumstances. What is really strange is that my best running friend, Dan, seems to have taken a shine to me. I know that Dan has a girlfriend but you wouldn’t know it by the way he acts when we’re running. I keep finding myself wanting to tell him that I know more about him that he realizes, but I manage to play the part of the new girl in town.  By the end of the week there are three of us girls and four boys that are running together each evening. If this keeps up, our team should be in pretty good shape for this fall’s running season.

Ben Harrison joined the group later in the week. He is a pretty decent runner but has never seemed fully committed; I have always had the feeling that he runs mostly to keep his mother happy. He always impressed me as being an alright kid although we had never been close friends. I quickly learned that the girls are pretty standoffish about him.  When I enquired about it, the girls told me that he is always pretty arrogant towards them, and it didn’t take me long to see this side of him now that I’m a girl too. On the first day that he joined us in a very condescending manner he welcomed me to town and offered to help me with my running and show me around. It is glaringly obvious that he thinks that he is something special. I was not impressed. Unfortunately he seems to be interested in me but is totally unable to figure out that being a condescending jerk isn’t endearing himself to me at all. How could such a nice woman as his mom raise such a jerk for a son? I can tell you that I’ll look at him differently when I revert to being Chris.

One day at work we met Mrs. Quinn for lunch in the cafeteria. It seemed weird interacting with her as one of the girls and not as one of her children. She did present me with the new runner’s necklace that Marla had gotten me. The only difference is that this one is silver in color. I really like it and it has become my favorite, and most used, piece of jewelry. The kids that I run with think that it really suits me. So do I. I’m really glad that Laurie and Marla found the first one for me.

Work has been pretty easy. I was assigned to work with a physics project team working in the National Ignition Facility, a ten story building the size of three football fields. It is no secret that they are working on a laser-powered fusion energy power plant. The thing uses 192 giant lasers to vaporize hydrogen to give off more energy than is consumed by the lasers. At least that’s the theory. This is the world’s largest laser facility–by far.  There is no way that a group of terrorists could replicate something like this. The scientists are still several years away from proving the technology, but in the mean time, people are working pretty hard to develop the necessary equipment and processes. There are a number of related research projects going on that support the project. Apparently huge advances in laser technology are being made. Maybe there is something in the related research that is of interest to the bad guys.

I and another intern have been busy answering the telephone in the director’s office and helping with minor office chores as the normal staff is working feverishly in an adjacent conference room to get out a report that is critical to obtaining their next round of government funding. They keep the door shut but I’ve peeked in once or twice to see what they were up to. I did notice the phrase “TOP SECRET” on the report cover which is probably why they have kept us far enough away that we can’t see what it's all about. I did leave my cell phone out a couple of time when people were wandering through the reception area on their way in and out of the conference room but did not hear any breaches of security. If information useful to terrorists is leaking from here it must be from someone inside.

One development that did occur this week is that I met Dr. Lang; he is part of the development team on one of the laser projects. He was pretty engrossed in his work and barely acknowledged my presence when I dropped some mail off in his work area. I noticed a picture of Andy on the wall of his office so I asked about his son saying that I was new in town and didn’t know too many kids my age yet. Dr. Lang seemed a little put out by the interruption but politely told me that Andy will be a senior next year and is spending the summer working at small art supply & framing store downtown. I got the feeling that Dr. Lang was pretty busy and didn’t appreciate the interruption so I left quickly.

That night Laurie and I talked about the Andy situation and decided that we’d drop by the store Saturday morning after the slumber party to see about getting some frames for some of our Alaska pictures in hopes of connecting with Andy.

Laurie and I spent an evening replying to our first questionnaires. Laurie has been doing work similar to what I have been doing. She’s been assigned to the Energetic Materials Center where Caitlin’s father works and has been trying to overhear confidential conversations just like I have been. We both reported that security measures appeared to be in place and properly implemented. We are both aware that sound files have been remotely erased from our cell phones so I guess that the security team is listening to them and double checking our observations.

One evening, while filling out our survey forms, there was an email message requesting that we try leaving our recording cell phones in secure areas.  The idea is to act like naive teen girls who inadvertently left their cell phones behind. Neither Laurie nor I are comfortable with this request. We don’t see where this action would show a security leak. After all, shouldn’t the scientists be able to discuss secure information in secure locations? This request sounds dangerous but the instructions are coming from base’s security team.  We’ll have to think about this one. We were told to not question our orders, but neither of us feels comfortable with this one. So far we haven’t had the opportunity to follow these instructions.

I continue to get daily emails from Joey, but I’ve decided to respond only once all week, trying to give him the hint that he needs to tone down his infatuation somewhat. He’s not getting the message, so I’m thankful I didn’t give him my cell number.

The best news of the week was that my first period ended–and I have survived.

So... back to my immediate problem: What do I wear? What do I take with me?

Walking into Laurie’s room to ask for advice I catch her in the middle of changing out of her work clothes. She is standing there in her underwear looking through her closet. All she is wearing is a really sexy black lace panty and bra set. This is the first real good look that I’ve had of her nearly naked so, remembering the ground rules, I start to leave quickly.

“Come in, Tina,” she says as if nothing unusual is happening while she examines a top, “what can I do for you?”

“Ah, I was wondering what to take to the party,” I respond, “I’ve never been to one of these events.”

“Well... let’s see,” she begins, “last time we watch a romantic comedy, played some board games, had a pillow fight, styled each other’s hair and painted our nails. So why don’t you bring your cute night shirt, a change of clothes for the morning, your makeup bag, and some hair supplies. I have an extra sleeping bag for you to use. Oh, don’t forget your swimsuit in case we decide to use Amy’s pool and wear some sexy undies. We want everyone to feel feminine. This will be GIRLS’ night, after all.”

“Can I go in jeans?” I ask.

“I guess,” she responds, “but wear those hip hugging ones if you do. You might want to wear a pair of shorts as it’s likely to be warm tonight.”

In the end I opt for the jeans and my Airborne T-shirt. I can tell that Laurie thinks I should be wearing a sexier top but doesn’t push the issue.

Aunt Jen drops us off at Amy’s house with all our gear and Amy meets us at the door.

“Hey, girls, Laurie and Tina are here,” she shouts back into the house. Cindy and Marjorie find their way to the door to greet us.  The three other girls help us with our sleeping bags as we head to the large family room where all the action is scheduled to take place. There is a large sliding glass door that opens on the back patio. The Stevens also have a large pool with a diving board which looks very inviting on this warm evening.

The three girls are already in their bikinis and look as if they have been doing some sun bathing.  Three, soon to be four, very attractive friendly girls wearing bikinis on a warm California afternoon and me the only guy in sight–or I would have been a couple of weeks ago. A guy’s dream come true except for the small detail that I am now a member of the sorority.

As I noticed with Caitlin, the sight of the nearly naked young women does not have the same effect on me that it did a few weeks ago. I’m not sure if that is a good or bad thing.  I suppose it is good as I’m supposed to act like one of the group. It is disturbing–still–that my responses have changed.

“We’ve ordered pizza for dinner,” Marjorie tells us. “It should be here in about ten minutes. Hurry up and get your bikinis on. We want to see the delivery boy’s face when five gorgeous bikini babes meet him at the door. It should be funny.”

Laurie strips off her outer clothing to reveal that she has her swimsuit on under her clothes. I didn’t think to do that. 

“Ah... where can I change?” I ask.

“It’s just us girls here,” Cindy says off-handedly. “Amy’s parents went out for the evening so you can just dress here if you like.”

“Tina’s bashful,” Laurie saves the day. “Tina, there’s a bathroom just down that hallway to the right if you prefer.”

Grabbing my bag of clothes I head into the bathroom and put on my new bathing suit using the tankini top. 

“What happened to the bikini top you bought?” Amy asks, hinting that I made the wrong choice.

I just sigh and return to the bathroom to trade out tops.  I feel nearly naked–I AM nearly naked–and it’s not a comfortable feeling.

The door bell rings as I exit the bathroom. The pizza guy is here. Marjorie grabs me by the arm to drag me over to the door where we all congregate before opening the door.

The pizza guy is a kid that I know from school. You can tell that the sight of five bikini-clad girls at the door was not what he expected. He just stood there frozen to the spot for few moments, just staring at us as he tried to reboot his thought processes.

“Hi, Chuck,” Amy smiled at him, “thanks for bringing the pizza. You want to come in for a minute while I get the money?”

Laurie relieves poor Chuck of the pizzas as Cindy and Marjorie each grabbed an arm and lead him into the large entryway. Amy makes quite a show of wiggling her bottom as she walks into the kitchen to get the money. Poor Chuck does not know where to look. He’s trying hard to be polite but he has a hard time taking his eyes off Amy’s tush as she walks away.

“Hey, Chuck,” Marjorie says. “You know all of us except Tina here.  She’s Laurie’s cousin down from Alaska for the summer.”

Tearing his eyes from Amy, Chuck turns his attention to me. He is tongue-tied as he takes in my body.

“Nice to meet you, Chuck,” I say in my sweetest voice and blushing as I try to figure out how to not feel so naked in front of this boy.

“Ah...,” Chuck’s thought processes haven’t finished rebooting, “Nice to meet you, Gina,”

“That’s TINA,” Cindy emphasizes.

“Oh... sorry, Tina,” Chuck corrects himself, blushing mightily in the process. The poor boy is very obviously uncomfortable and anxious to leave. I hope that Amy gives him a good tip.

Amy sashays back with the check. “Is that enough?”

Poor Chuck barely glances at the check as he heads for the door.

“It’s fine,” he says. “Thanks for the business. Have a fun evening, girls.”

Chuck wastes no time getting out of there. I noticed that he’s walking a little funny and keeps his money bag strategically placed over his crotch as he rushes to his car.

After the door is closed, the other girls begin laughing hysterically. I can’t find it in me to join them as I realize what poor Chuck just went through.

“You girls are sooo bad,” I say.

“Come on, Tina,” Amy says, “You have to admit that it’s fun to play with guys’ minds from time to time. After all, they like to lead us on all the time.”

“I don’t know,” I reply. “I just think that it’s not nice to toy with someone’s emotions or to be mean to them.”

I can understand Amy’s point to some extent. How often have I been guilty of jerking the chain of my sisters and other people around me? I’m feeling bad about the few tricks that I’ve played on others, particularly girls, over the years.  I am seeing now how important it is to be kind and respectful to everyone, even those that aren’t like us or that we don’t understand.

Taking the pizza out on the patio we dig in.  Amy’s mom provided a salad, sodas, and chips to go with the pizza so we have a great meal–for teens that is. One thing I notice is that the girls are less voracious eaters than my guy friends. They pick at their food and talk constantly as they eat. We barely make a dent in the food offerings by the time everyone is through.  Even I did not eat as much as I would have thought before becoming filled. I still ate more than anyone else, but that’s probably due to all the exercise that I get. Even still, I’ve noticed that I fill faster than before, but tonight’s feast really emphasized the change.

We’ve all been lying on lounge chairs soaking up the last sun of the day as we eat and talk. I don’t have much to offer to the conversation as I–supposedly–don’t know the people and places that they’re discussing. They did ask a few questions about Alaska, but I didn’t offer much information. I learn a lot as I listen.

For example, I learned that Laurie’s friends think that she is crazy for dating a younger guy, even if he is very nice. They encourage her to broaden her vision as Chris is now off at scout camp. Laurie just smiles and suggests that they’re just jealous that she got the nicest guy in town.

I also learn a lot about who they think the ‘hot’ guys in school are and why. Cindy seems particularly susceptible to large biceps and tight buns even though the few times she’s dated these kind of boys they’ve treated her like dirt. Guys–apparently–can be considered to be ‘hot’ for a variety of reasons: strong lean bodies, killer smiles, smooth talking ability, athletic ability, or high levels of confidence seem to be high on the list. Most of the guys that they attribute to being ‘hot’ are really jerks from my viewpoint. One mystery that I’d like to clear up while in this body is why it is that girls seem to be attracted to the jerks? I’ve been around some of these guys when they’re talking about girls and, believe me, I don’t think the girls would be impressed with the boys’ attitudes and intentions if they could see and hear what I’ve seen and heard.

After digesting for a while we move into the pool.  We all put our hair up so it doesn’t get wet and just hang out in the pool.  The cool water feels good but it is obvious that the girls aren’t interested in the rough housing that would happen if this were a guy’s or a coed party.  We just sit in the water and continue the conversation.

I experience a new sensation as I settle into the pool. I discover that breasts float. That’s right, I’ve about gotten used to the pull of a bra strap holding my new appendages up over the past couple of weeks but when I’m in the water I find that much of the burden is relieved.  Strange. Nice in a way, but strange nonetheless.

I am also afraid that my new chest and its holsters will create a bit of a drag while actively swimming.  That could be a problem, however I don’t take the time to find out as we’re not doing anything active right now.

Thankfully, the conversation turns away from boys. Unfortunately it turns to fashion–another area that I’m weak in.

The girls want to know about what girls in Alaska wear.

I shrug my shoulders and say, “Pretty much the same things as here, I guess. We have some of the same big chain stores and they sell pretty much the same thing everywhere. You have to understand that I’m more of a tomboy so I haven’t spent too much time worrying about fashion. Some of the girls I know spend a lot more time working on their wardrobes and I think that they’d fit in around here. I spend a lot of my time in jeans or outdoor pants and a T-shirt”

I tell them about our Alaskan shopping adventure with Ashley and her friends. They think that it sounds like fun and want to see our outfits sometime. Laurie fills them in some of the details of the effect of our outfits on the movie night and also tells them that we have pictures of the gang on our cell phones.

“Oh, Girl,” Cindy exclaims, “We’ve just got to look at those pix.” This idea leads to an exodus from the pool.

The night air is cooling rapidly so everyone decides to head indoors. We all wrap towels around ourselves and gathered up the remains of dinner. After clearing off the patio and heading inside, we adjourn to Amy’s room to download our pictures to her computer for easier viewing. While I’m busy at the computer the girls begin to undress as they prepare to put on their night clothes. Even Laurie is doing it.

Brain central–who has been pretty quiet lately–kicks into gear to tell me to not stare. Okay guys, what would you do in a room with four naked teenage girls? There is still a lot of male in my mind. My approach is to keep my eyes studiously focused on the computer screen as if I’m having trouble with the download.

“Oooh... cute jammies,” Cindy says to Laurie who's starting to put on some pink pajama bottoms which have little bears and hearts sprinkled all over them.

“You just wish you had some,” replies Laurie with a laugh. The girls spend a few minutes joking around about each other’s night clothes as they dress.

“Tina, aren’t you going to change?” Marjorie asks.

“Ah... in a minute,” I respond still admiring the computer screen. “I just want to get these pictures downloaded first.”

My stuff is still out in the family room where I left it when I came it.  Maybe I can just go change in the bathroom.

“I’ll get your bag,” offers Laurie.  Dang it! So much for my plan for privacy.  I guess that I need to act like one of the girls.

I get the girls all looking at the images before I start to change. I notice that all of them are braless so I do the same. I take off my bikini top and slip the nightdress on before slipping off the bikini bottoms and replacing them with some red satin panties. They are all too engrossed in the pictures to pay me any attention–thankfully. The rest are all in pajamas. I’m the only one wearing a nightgown.

“You guys do look pretty hot in those clothes,” Amy observes as she scrolls through the images. “How did it go over?”

“The guys were very appreciative,” Laurie responds.

“Yeah,” I add, “but some of the other girls felt pretty threatened; one cornered me in the girls’ room and warned me to stay away from her date; I guess he did seem distracted by us.”

“Maybe you guys set a new standard for the Alaska kids,” Cindy observed. “I wonder what the girls do the next time they go out. I bet that they dress up more. You’ll have to tell us after you get back home, Tina.”

“I don’t think anything will change,” I reply. “The kids back home are pretty set in their ways. It was fun though, I might try it again.” Where did that statement come from? I can’t believe that I just said that. I guess the statement is girl appropriate

Amy is scrolling through the pictures and stops at one with me and Tom on top of the mountain.

“Who’s this cute hunk?” Cindy asks with a hint of excitement in her voice.

“That’s my older brother,” I say. “He’s a swimmer.”

“I really like the broad shoulders,” Cindy says. “I bet he has a cute butt too. Too bad he didn’t come with you. I’d like to get to know him.”

“He is a pretty cool guy,” I tell her, “but I don’t think his girlfriend wants to share him.”

Marjorie finds the images from the boat trip. “Who are these guys?” Why can’t they focus on the scenery?

“Just some guys on the tour boat who tried to pick us up,” Laurie tells them. “Those two were tourists, but this guy,”–she points to Joey–” is a local boy and, wow, has he the hots for Tina? He was fun to watch. I pretty sure it was love at first sight for him.”

“Oooh, so, Tina, what about for you?” Amy asks. “Any sparks?”

I blush pretty hard–which earns me some ribbing. “He’s a nice guy, but I don’t think it’s going anywhere,” I answer.

“She told me that she thinks he was ‘sorta cute’,” Laurie tells the interested group. “He’s been emailing her all week and even came out to watch her run her race last Saturday.”

“Tina has a boyfriend! Tina has a boyfriend!” Marjorie teases me, causing even more blushing.

I’ve been told that pillow fights are common at girl sleepovers, so I grab a pillow from Amy’s bed and whack Marjorie on the head.  This act touches off a wild melee with lots of screaming and laughing as we almost take apart Amy’s room.

Wouldn’t you know it, but Amy’s parents show up just as the fight reaches it climax.

“Girls! Girls!” Mrs. Stevens shouts to get our attention. I find myself sitting on the floor with my legs spread and night shirt hiked up rather high. Not exactly modest. I quickly correct the situation.

“What’s going here?” She asks appearing to be stern.

“Nothing, Mother,” Amy replies, out of breath. “We’re just having a little fun.”

“Well, Sweetie, see if you can have some fun without tearing the house apart,” Mr. Stevens suggests. “And who is the pretty young lady sitting on the floor?” While I had met Mrs. Stevens before, I’d yet to meet Amy’s father.

“This is Tina,” Laurie introduces me, “my cousin from Alaska. She’s visiting for the summer. Tina, this is Amy’s father, Mr. Stevens.”

I give them a little wave and say, “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

Now that was fun! I was afraid that we were going to spend the whole night talking. I actually enjoyed the pillow fight even though we have to spend fifteen minutes fixing Amy’s room back up.

We’d reviewed pretty much all of the pictures before things degenerated into the pillow fight, so we all troop back to the family room after straightening up the bedroom. After some discussion, the consensus is that we should watch a Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan chick flick that everyone has already seen but they really love.  Watching it on the big screen TV with the surround sound stereo was awesome. Last time I watched this film with Laurie I’d focused on Meg Ryan. Tonight, however, things are different. The girls are all swooning over Tom Hanks and discussing all the great features of his character so I find myself more focused on him. He is a great guy. I catch myself thinking that a girl like me could do a lot worse than have him for a boyfriend.

While watching the movie, we experiment with styling each other’s hair. Laurie tries to teach me about braiding hair since I have zero experience with this particular girl skill. The other girls get into it also when they realize that I’m a neophyte in the practice. By the time the movie was over I’ve learned the basics of several styles.  I find that I am fascinated with all the style options available and am wishing that my hair was longer. It occurs to me that, unlike a guy’s movie party, girls multitask when watching a show. I am able to do the hair thing AND watch the movie.

We each have a bowl of ice cream with our favorite toppings as we settle in for the next movie a little after midnight. The others seem to be going strong, but I find myself fading. There is no way that I’m going to make it through a second movie, so I lay out my sleeping bag off to the side and watch the movie from there.

My eyes are drooping and I have a contented feeling.  To my surprise, I’ve enjoyed the evening and feel a closeness to these girls that is better than anything that I have ever felt with my male comrades. Don’t get me wrong, I have felt strong bonds of brotherhood with my friends in the past.  But when was the last time we gave each other hugs and words of friendship and encouragement before closing out the evening?

---< >---

Edited by Gabi… Again. Her efforts to polish this work have really been effective!
Thanks, Gabi.

Something Feels Strange…

My eyes are drooping and I have a contented feeling.  To my surprise, I’ve enjoyed the evening and feel a closeness to these girls that is better than anything that I have ever felt with my male comrades. Don’t get me wrong, I have felt strong bonds of brotherhood with my friends in the past.  But when was the last time we gave each other hugs and words of friendship and encouragement before closing out the evening?

Chapter 24: The Sommers & The Langs

I hear someone rustling next to me as I slowly wakened. Remembering last night and the fact that I don’t have to be anywhere for a while, I just snuggle deeper in my sleeping bag.

“Hey, sleepy head.” Marjorie’s voice pierces my unconsciousness just before she whacks me on the bottom. “You can’t sleep all day.”

“What time is it?” I mumble from my warm cocoon.

“Almost ten o’clock,” comes the reply.

I don’t remember the last time that I’d slept this late. With some reluctance, I stir.  The urge to go to the bathroom gives me another reason to start moving.

I stumble into the bathroom still only half awake. I begin to become more aware of the world around me as I relieve myself.  Looking down at my hands, I see that someone had fun last night after I fell asleep.  My finger nails are painted with a hideous bright neon pink polish that wasn’t there when I fell asleep. I just sigh as I finish up my business and wash my hands.

If I wasn’t fully awake before, I am now. Looking in the mirror this morning is a shocking experience. My relatively short hair has braids sticking out in all directions–reminiscent of Pipi Longstocking.  To complement the hair, my face looks like a clown’s with poorly and heavily applied garish makeup in some really weird colors. I’m a mess since the makeup smeared overnight.

So much for the warm fuzzy feelings from last night.

There is some cold cream on the counter so I take the time to clean the makeup off my face.  While I’m doing this, there is a knock on the bathroom door and Amy asks in a sweet voice, “Is everything alright in there?” Her comment is accompanied by giggles from more than one girl.

“Everything’s fine,” I respond. I’ve found the best way to counter pranks is to act as if nothing happened. It really frustrates a prankster to not get a response. Plus you can get back at them later when they think that you’ve forgotten about it. “I’m just not my best first thing in the morning. It takes me a few minutes to put myself back together again. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“Well, let us know if you need anything,” she says with a hint of disappointment in her voice. Good–this might work.

Using a hairbrush I find on the counter I work the braids out of my hair and make myself presentable. Looking through drawers I find nail polish remover which allows me to get rid of the neon pink. I smile sweetly and greet the others cheerfully as I rejoin them for a late breakfast.  They just look at each other wondering what happened and why I’m acting as if nothing happened.  It’s great fun to watch their confusion.

I’ll find a way to return the favor soon...

---< >---

On the way home, Laurie explains to me that it is tradition at slumber parties to prank the first girl to fall asleep. She also told me about some of the things that the other girls wanted to do to me–I guess that I got off lightly last night. I suppose that now I’m just one of the girls, I’ll need to have more stamina next time.

We spend an hour helping Aunt Jen with Saturday house cleaning chores before we head off to our planned activities.

Laurie is going to try and make contact with Andy at the art supply store while I go water skiing with the Sommers family this afternoon.  She may try to join us at the reservoir later after she runs a few errands for her mother.

Caitlin picks me up at one o’clock. The other two members of her gang, Jamie and Ilana, are with her.  These two girls also have reputations as being first class bitches and it doesn’t take long for them to live up to their reputation. They are in the middle of bad mouthing a nice girl that I know–or did know as Chris. This could be long afternoon.

---< >---

We arrived at the reservoir to find that Caitlin’s parents have already commandeered a picnic table under a huge oak tree near the beach. After parking the car the girls and I head over to help unload the portable grill and picnic supplies from Dr. Sommers’ truck. Caitlin’s little brothers and their friends have already disappeared somewhere. The Sommers must be doing pretty well financially judging by the fancy ski boat on a trailer hitched to the truck.  The other three girls only carry one load of supplies to the table before heading off to check out the beach. I feel bad watching Dr. Sommers struggle with the grill so I go back to lend a hand.

“Thanks for the help, Tina,” Dr. Sommers says. “It’s refreshing to have one of Caitlin’s friends lend a hand. Now that we’ve gotten the heavy stuff, you can join Caitlin and the others at the beach. We can get the rest from here.”

“No problem, Dr. Sommers,” I respond. “I’m happy to help. Thanks for letting me come along. I’ll just help move this stuff over to the table before joining the other girls.”

While helping unload the picnic supplies it occurs to me that I had said, ‘the other girls’, and Brain Central thinks nothing of it. It’s only been two weeks since the change and now my self image is that of a teen girl–it’s what I see in the mirror every day, and how I am perceived by everyone around me. It’s all adding up and now I truly feel the part even if I still feel like a fish out of water on the topic of girl culture and not at all comfortable in tight, revealing clothes. I’m now thinking of myself as a girl.  I would think that the realization that I now view myself as a girl inside and out ought to disturb me–or at least Brain Central–but it doesn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I still look forward to going back to the male team, but at least I’m comfortable being a girl for now. It makes the current situation much more bearable.

“Where ya been, Tina?” Ilana asks as I rejoin them.

“Dr. Sommers looked like he needed a hand with the grill,” I reply. “So what’s happening here?”

“We thought that we’d stake out a bit of beach before it’s too late,” Jamie explains. “We’re already too late for the best spots but I think that this one will do.”

The beach is beginning to get crowded with sun worshipers. There are also a couple of volleyball games in progress.  On the reservoir are watercraft of all kinds.  A couple of teen boys are showing off for the girls on their noisy jet skis just outside the roped off swimming area. The maturity level of their antics is pretty low.

The girls are already laying on towels in their bikinis. Jamie and Ilana are both a little pudgy so the bikinis aren’t doing anything for their looks. I am smart this time–I’m wearing my swimsuit under my shorts and I’m wearing my tankini top as my top.  I decided to stick with the tankini top and left the bikini top home so no one can talk me into wearing it. I lay out my towel and slip off my shorts as I lie down to get some sun on my back. Remembering the days when the sight of a slender girl doing the same thing really caught my attention I feel more than a little uncomfortable with some of the looks that are focused in our direction. Maybe I’m really not quite there as a girl yet.

“Don’t your folks need help with the food and launching the boat?” I ask Caitlin.

“Dad will call the boys when he’s ready to launch the boat,” she responds. “There’s not much to the food and Mom’s got that under control.”

Her lack of concern and assistance is disturbing. In our house everyone pitches in when there is work to be done so that everyone can have time to relax or do whatever it is that they want to do. I guess that this is just another example of Caitlin’s selfishness. I’m worried that if I’m too helpful that I won’t bond with Caitlin sufficiently to fulfill my assignment, but I don’t feel comfortable being waited on by her parents either. What do I do?

For now we smear sunscreen on each other and work on our tans. I really don’t have one so I have to be careful about getting too much sun.

“You’re pretty white,” Jamie observes. “Don’t you get any sun in Alaska?”

“Some,” I respond, “but it’s generally too cool to lie out in a swimsuit.  Not only that, but the mosquitoes can get pretty fierce. It is nice to be out in warm sunshine without the bugs.”

“Ew–bugs.” Caitlin cringes. “How can you stand them?  I really hate bugs.”

Half an hour later–after discussing a variety of girl topics–Caitlin’s mother calls us to the picnic table for a snack.

“Anybody up for water skiing?” Dr. Sommers asks.

The boys are all excited but the girls are lukewarm.  I get the feeling that Caitlin is interested but her buddies aren’t really.  They just want to hang out and sunbathe in the hope that the right guys will come along and notice them. In their case, I figure that their efforts are rather like fishing with rancid bait. They really aren’t very attractive with their mild belly fat hanging over the top of their bikini bottoms. Girls with poor body tone really don’t look very good in bikinis.  Maybe there should be a law against selling them one.

“Sure,” I respond, “I’d really like to try. I’ve only been once. Caitlin, will you show me how to ski?” I figure that I should give her an excuse to get away from the lumps of lard.

She is torn between helping her new friend and hanging out with her old ones. I can tell it’s a struggle.

“Aw, Dad,” whines her fourteen-year-old brother. “Can’t we just leave the girls on the beach?”

The comment raises a competitive spirit from somewhere deep within Caitlin.  She can’t let it go.

“Sure, Tina,” she says with a scornful look at her brother. “Let’s show these boys what we can do.”

“Okay,” says Dr. Sommers, “The boys and I will get the boat launched and meet you just outside the swimming area in half an hour.”

Back on the beach, Caitlin tries to talk Ilana and Jamie into coming with us but they are too comfortable reading gossip and fashion magazines. They can’t understand why we want to do ‘all that work.’

Water skiing is actually a lot of fun.  Most of the time we just ride in the boat as we take turns on the skis. Caitlin is very good–she looks a lot more graceful than any of the rest of us. She is able to pull a few fancy maneuvers that I wouldn’t dare attempt. At one point she takes over the controls of the boat and so that her father can ski.  He’s pretty good too.  The two of them gave me lots of tips and pointers.

After an hour of skiing Caitlin says that she needs to get back to the beach to check on her other friends. I’d like to stay with the boat but decide that I should try to be part of Caitlin’s circle.

Swimming back to the beach from the boat, I become aware of the strangeness of the experience–swimming with breasts is awkward. I nearly lost my top a few times when I wiped out on the skis. I am used to swimming in baggy swim shorts, so the bikini bottom is definitely different–I feel almost naked down below. The fabric of the tankini top adds a lot of drag that threatens to pull the bra off my breasts if I swim too fast, and I discover I have to pull the bra back in place frequently. This–like most other girl experiences–will take some getting used to.

When we get back to the beach, Jamie and Ilana are still reading fashion magazines and working on their tans.  Nothing’s changed from when we left them so it’s not hard to get back into the conversation.

After half an hour of hanging out with the three other girls I am getting bored.  I am also getting rather fed up with the shallow conversation.  It seems that the girls have nothing good to say about anything or anybody. I notice a couple of my old friends–guy friends, including my best running friend Dan–playing volleyball at one of the nets so I tell the girls that I’m going over to watch them and ask if they want to come with me.

“Eeewww!” wails Ilana with distain. “Those guys are all, like, losers.”

“Whatever,” I reply, “It just looks like they’re having fun.”

“Don’t get too close to them,” Jamie adds. “They look pretty sweaty.”

Caitlin is looking indecisive again.  I can tell that she has more going for her than do her two loser friends. Unfortunately she feels some obligation to hang out with them. Maybe it’s that good hostess thing. Anyway, I end up going over to the game by myself.

I watch the boys playing for a few minutes before Dan–who noticed me when I came over–hits the ball out of play in my direction. The ball lands at my feet so I pick it up and hit it back like a volleyball player would.

“Hey, Tina,” Dan calls out. “We could use another player. D’you wanna play?”

“Sure,” I respond eagerly. I guess he remembers me from running practice.

After a quick round of introductions we start playing.  It takes me about fifteen minutes to get acclimatized to playing as a girl to the point where I can be reasonably effective.  What with changes to my center of gravity and the complication of bouncing breasts–it takes a bit of retraining to reduce their motion. Being four inches shorter than I used to be doesn’t help either. I have never been a great player so I don’t take the court by storm. What I find interesting is the change in the guys’ performance–several of them getting distracted by having a female on the court. Once, while I’m playing the net, the guy behind me misses an easy return and his team mates blame it on his watching my ‘backfield in motion.’

My addition to the court has another curious social effect.  Several of these guys have steady girlfriends who were off sunning themselves like Caitlin and her coterie.  After joining the game I become aware of these girls gravitating towards the court to keep a wary eye on their boyfriends. I am getting openly jealous stares from some of them–particularly Dan’s girlfriend. It doesn’t take long for the more athletic of the girls to join the game. Even Caitlin can’t resist the draw and soon joins in too.  She is having fun–in fact, we both are.

She gives me a quick hug when I get a particularly lucky hit, but when one of the guys gives me a friendly pat on the butt I hit him on the shoulder and give him a warning look. By the expression on one girl’s face on the sideline I’m betting that he’ll have bigger problems when the game is over. Somebody is very possessive.

Eventually one of Caitlin’s brothers shows up to tell us that it’s time to eat. I thank the guys and gals for letting me play, before Caitlin and I head off to join the rest of our party stopping for a quick dip in the reservoir to wash off our perspiration. Jamie and Ilana give me a bit of a cold shoulder but otherwise the meal is quite pleasant with steaks grilled to perfection by Dr. Sommers and chips, salads, and drinks provided by Mrs. Sommers.

“Caitlin tells me that you work out at the Lab,” Mrs. Sommers mentions.

“Yes,” I reply. “My aunt got me a job in the temporary office staff pool for the summer. I just started this last week.”

This seems to gain Dr. Sommers interest. “Oh,” he remarks, “I didn’t know that you were out there. Who’s your aunt?”

“Jennifer Mercer,” I respond. “She works for the Lab Director: she’s my mother’s sister.”

“Doesn’t Susan Harrison run the temp pool?” He asks.

“Yes,” I respond, “she’s my supervisor.” ‘In more ways than one,’ I think to myself.

Mrs. Sommers frowns at the mention of her name. Dr. Sommers doesn’t seem too pleased either. That’s interesting.

“So, how do you like working for her?” he asks.

“She seems nice enough,” I respond. “I haven’t seen her that much since I’ve been farmed out to help one of the projects most of the week. Do you know her?”

“Yes,” he responds without explanation or much enthusiasm. “I hope you enjoy working for her.”

The conversation quickly turns to other topics. I get the feeling that I had hit a nerve with the Sommers.

After Caitlin and I help with clean up of both the dinner and the boat, we rejoin the other two girls and hang out on the beach visiting together.  The Lab topic never came up again. I did learn that both of Caitlin’s parents are originally from back east and come from well-to-do families.  I get the impression that–while not exactly rich–both of Caitlin’s parents have never been short on cash. His position as a research scientist at the Lab plus part time work that Mrs. Sommers does as a lawyer seem to keep them well supplied financially, although they seem to live more extravagantly than my family does with a similar income.

Eventually, when we leave for home, I make sure to thank the Sommers for their hospitality. They reply that I am welcome to join them anytime. I think I really like Caitlin’s parents.

Caitlin drops Jamie and Ilana off first and we sit outside the Mercer home in Caitlin’s car for a few minutes.

“Caitlin, I’m sorry if I caused problems with your friends, but I just couldn’t just sit around all day doing nothing when there was so much to do.”

“And when they didn’t have anything good to say,” she adds. “Thanks for coming, Tina. The contrast between you and the other two really got me thinking about where I’m headed in life.  You actually go out and have fun like I used to.  I didn’t realize just how lazy and worthless I was becoming. I think that I’ve been too negative for too long. I also saw how helpful you were to my parents. I felt bad for ignoring them. I think you really impressed them and I’m really glad you could come.”

“I’m not so sure about impressing them,” I say. “Neither of them seemed happy when I brought up Mrs. Harrison.”

“Oh, that’s not your problem ,” she replies. “After all, Dad’s the one who mentioned her name. It’s just that I don’t think that Mrs. Harrison and my dad get along all that well. Apparently they had a run in a few years ago and neither of them have been able to get over it. I don’t know what it was about. All I know is that my Dad questions her ethics. Anyway, it shouldn’t affect you. You’re just summer help.”

Interesting. I wonder what Mrs. Harrison will think when she hears this recording.

---< >---

Laurie and her mom are watching a movie in the living room when I stumble in from my visit with the Sommers.  After stowing my beach bag in my room I join them more tired than I thought I was.

Aunt Jen pauses the movie so that we can talk about each other’s day. 

“Laurie, I was looking for you all afternoon,” I tell her. “What happened?”

“I ran into an old friend,” she replies. “I’ll tell you all about it later.  How did your day with the Sommers go?”

I told them about the wonderful time I had. I also told them about the division that I seem to be causing between Caitlin and her other friends. “I’m sorry,” I add, “but I can’t act like a little bitch even if that’s what the Committee wants. I don’t think that it’s hurting my relationship with Caitlin though. She seems ripe for a change.”

“I guess we need to work on your acting lessons,” laughs Aunt Jen. “I hope this doesn’t hurt your feelings, Tina, but you never could lie or bluff very well–even as a guy, you were always an open book. That was one of your endearing qualities and why your parents and I trust you two together. I don’t think that has changed at all since you became Tina.”

“Maybe I’m not cut out for this spy business after all,” I reply dejectedly.

“You’re doing great, darling,” Aunt Jen says encouragingly while giving me a hug. “Just be yourself, but–for your own safety–be discreet.”

While they watched the rest of the movie I headed off to take a shower and wash out my swimsuit. I notice some very feminine tan lines when I strip the suit off, and hope they will disappear when I change back; they’d be hard to explain away in the guys’ locker room this fall.

Laurie finds me in my room answering emails when the movie’s over. I have a raft of email from the usual suspects.  I sent back images that I took with my cell phone at the reservoir today. I figure that a picture of me and Caitlin in our swimsuits should excite the guys.

Quietly, Laurie beckons to me to join her in the hall. 

“Meet me on the patio in a few minutes,” she whispers in my ear, “and don’t bring your cell phone.”

Now what’s this all about? And why no cell phone? We’ve been told over and over again to keep our phones with us. They are our link to safety.

Their backyard is very private so I figure that I don’t need to change out of my pajamas for this little meeting. After finishing an email to Helen, I head out to meet Laurie.

“What’s the mystery?” I ask her.

“I’m getting some bad vibes about this investigation,” she explains. “I managed to track down Andy today at the art store. I pretended to need some help with learning how to do water colors and he was very helpful.  I asked if he could give me a few pointers to get started and suggested he meet me at the park after he got off work so that he could help me paint the flowers there.”

I get the message. She flirted with and caught him. Chris would not be too happy about that–Tina, however, understands that Laurie is just doing what it takes to get the job done. With a slight ache in my heart I recall that that’s also how Chris and Laurie met.

“Relax, Tina,” she can see me getting jealous. “I’m still hung up on Chris. I just needed to get close enough to Andy to talk to him. D’you know he’s incredibly shy?  It took all my talents just to get him to meet with me.”

“Okay,” I say reluctantly, “So what did he say.”

“He says I have potential,” she grins as I hit her shoulder.

“Actually,” she continues, rubbing her shoulder, “he asked what I was doing this summer so I told him about your visiting and our jobs out at the Lab. When I mentioned Mrs. Harrison he got pretty steamed. It seems that there is really bad blood between his father and our supervisor. Apparently, according to Andy, Mrs. Harrison asked one of his dad’s colleagues to do something shady and when she refused Mrs. Harrison got her fired from the Lab on some trumped up charge.  Dr. Lang felt that she was being very underhanded and is not to be trusted.”

“Did you record this?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I wonder if she’ll say anything after hearing it.”

Then I told her about my conversation with Caitlin concerning the tension between Dr. Sommers and Mrs. Harrison.  There were a number of real parallels between the two stories.

“What do you think that we should do now?” she asks. “I’m confused as to where the problem is. Could Mrs. Harrison and/or the security committee be the problem?”

“ I admit I’m getting worried about our handlers,” I tell her. “You remember the request for us to get more specific information?”

She nods affirmatively.

“I don’t think she needs that kind of detail to verify security,” I say, pondering the situation. “Until we establish who we can trust, I really think that we must be careful about becoming the conduit for acquiring actual classified information. After all, this security group could be using us to get intelligence that they can sell. It also seems strange to me that both the families we have been asked to target seem to have friction with Mrs. Harrison. It’s almost as if she’s out to get them for some reason.”

“Actually, I would’ve thought that the security team ought to be able to just walk in and take anything that they want,” Laurie points out. “Why would they need us to get things for them? On the other hand, according to Mrs. Harrison and my mom, you and I shouldn’t even be having this conversation. It’s like they’re trying to keep us from comparing notes so that we won’t make these connections.”

“Good point,” I remark. “Even though I understand the potential for our safety in compartmentalization, there’s also a potential for abuse in the wrong hands. Something just doesn’t feel right here. We need to form our own ‘compartment’ and keep it secret until we find some way to determine who the real bad guys are. Before we get too far afield, however, I’d really like to compare our recordings from today.  Let’s get our phones and listen to what Caitlin and Andy had to say.”

After retrieving our phones, we review the conversations. I find myself getting jealous as Laurie was obviously flirting with and leading poor Andy on.  She squirms some too as her recording is played back. She gives me apologetic looks throughout the session. Overlooking the social issues, it becomes very apparent that the situations are incredibly similar.  Both Dr. Lang and Dr. Sommers, as reported by their kids, have had problems with Mrs. Harrison and the two scientists may be targets for her aggression.  From their perspectives, Mrs. Harrison has been unethical and mean.

Leaving our phones in our rooms after pretending to go to bed, the two of us leave the house quietly to go for a late night stroll around the neighborhood.

“This is deep,” she says, starting the conversation.

“Sure is,” I reply thoughtfully. “You know, it’s always dangerous to believe single-sided second hand evidence like this.  We need to verify what we’ve heard. There’s probably another side to the story that we don’t know about. Let’s talk about this. There must be a way that we can sort things out.”

“I’d like to think that our parents are good guys,” Laurie says. “We know them very well and I think I’d know if Mom was doing anything shady. She hasn’t been acting weird or anything. There’s been no unexplained increase in money or other benefits so I doubt she’s taking bribes.”

“I love your mom a lot,” I say, “but she did support Mrs. Harrison in the compartmentalization concept that would have kept us from recognizing this issue.”

“Yeah, she did,” Laurie admits, “but I’m pretty sure that it’s for the safety reasons they told us about. If I don’t know everything you know then I can’t tell it to the bad guys if I get snatched by them, hence protecting you.  The same works the vice versa. It’s easier to claim ignorance if you’re actually ignorant. I’m pretty sure Mom was only interested in our safety. What about your parents?  They’re not part of the Lab security team.”

“No, they’re not,” I reply. “They’re outsiders who were only brought in to enlist my assistance, so they ought to be clean.”

“That is unless they’re in cahoots with Mrs. Harrison on the bad guys’ side,” Laurie points out.

We walk on in silence for a few minutes mulling over the situation.

“I’ve got an idea,” Laurie says. “Why not try the bold approach? Suppose I just ask Mom about what she knows about Dr. Lang and Mrs. Harrison–just be up front.  I don’t have to tell her what I know about Dr. Sommers. I can let it out that I just sense that Dr. L and Mrs. H don’t get along and see what she knows about their history.  After all, she works in the Director’s office and knows most of what goes on in the Lab. If she confirms Andy’s story then we might be on to something.”

“Good idea,” I reply. “I could do the same thing with my Dad concerning the Sommers. Maybe we’ll get the other side of the story. You know, if it wasn’t for your Mom and my Dad being our parents, we could play the dumb blonde trick on them that they want us to do on others. We’ll have to try it on other unsuspecting folks to see if there are other similar situations going on out at the Lab. I’d be interested to see what Mrs. Harrison’s relationship is with other members of the suspect list. You know, I’ve gotten profiles of all the major suspects on my computer. Let’s look through it tomorrow and see if we can find someone who we can check out.”

“Great idea.” Laurie exclaims. “Ooh, this is getting scary–and a bit exciting too. We’ll have to be cool about all this and not let anyone know what we’re doing. I have a feeling that we’ll put ourselves in danger if we do more than what Mrs. Harrison has asked for.”

---< >---

Later, after returning to the house, I sit on my bed brooding over these latest developments. It’s almost midnight. What do I do? The easy–and safe–thing to do would be to just do what we’re told. But what if the problem turns out to be the security team and/or Mrs. Harrison? Maybe they’re just using us to gather their data to forward on to the terrorists. Who can we trust? For that matter, can I trust Laurie? How can I tell?

I’ve got to come up with a way to validate who the good guys are.

I’d like to think I can trust my Dad. He’s always had high integrity and he’s always been there for me. I’ve got to trust somebody.

Picking up my cell phone, I text Dr. Quinn: “Going 4 very short jog @ 7a. Want 2 come? - Kris”

The reply comes back within minutes: “C U @ ur tree - Dr Q”

---< >---

 Edited by Gabi who makes everything better.

 

Something Feels Strange…

I’d like to think I can trust my Dad. He’s always had high integrity and he’s always been there for me. I’ve got to trust somebody.

Picking up my cell phone, I text Dr. Quinn: “Going 4 very short jog @ 7a. Want 2 come? - Kris”

The reply comes back within minutes: “C U @ ur tree - Dr Q”

 

Chapter 25: Who are the Good Guys?

‘My tree’ is an almond tree at an elementary school near my childhood home; it’s where I once took a fall and ended up getting stitches in my head–I was lucky to have not broken my neck. I had been in fifth grade when some friends and I had been imitating monkeys swinging from the branches when I missed a branch and fell. It has become a family joke and none of the others let me forget about the incident whenever we pass the tree.

I am about five minutes early for our jog having already warmed up by running about a mile to get here. Dr. Quinn is already here doing some stretches. Running is not a favorite activity of his, but he does a little every week to keep himself in shape.

“Hello, Tina,” he greets me as I stop under the tree. “Is anyone following you?”

“I don’t think so,” I reply. As a precaution I had taken a short cut through a neighbor’s yard and a vineyard to get here.  I would have noticed anyone following this strange route.

“I hope this is good,” he declares in a mock whining voice. “I was planning on sleeping in this morning.”

Yeah, right.  Dr. Quinn never sleeps in. I got my predisposition for early morning rising from him. This statement was just his failed attempt at humor.

“I take it from your message,” he continues, “that there is something wrong with your employers.”

“I’m not sure,” I reply, “but there might be. Shall we keep up appearances and do some jogging?”

“I was afraid that you’d say that,” he sighs melodramatically.

I let him set the pace as we head down a back road that is always reasonably quiet.

“I assume that you know a lot about security procedures at the Lab,” I begin. He nods affirmatively. “Is it sufficient evidence to show a breach in procedures by showing that a secure document is not in a secure location or do you need to be able to show that its contents are accessible?”

“Taking information from a secure location would be more a test of access security than neglect on the part of an employee,” he replies. “Even then, it should be sufficient to merely show that an unauthorized person has access to it but it would strengthen the case to show the information was actually obtainable by an unauthorized person even if it’s where it belongs. Are you being asked to obtain secure information?”

“Yes,” I reply. “In our training in Alaska we were told to gather as much real information as possible and get back to our supervisor as quickly as possible after we find it. I don’t feel comfortable with the request. What happens if the leak is in the security team and we just become their unsuspecting agents? Couldn’t I get in trouble if things blow up? I’d like to keep Laurie and I clear of trouble.”

“That’s quite a dilemma,” he responds. “Who’s making the request?”

“Mrs. Harrison. What can you tell me about Mrs. Harrison?” I ask.

“Susan?” he seems surprised by the request. “Well, she is a manager in the human resources department in addition to supervising the temp pool. I’ve never liked her much, however, she seems pretty efficient. She’s aggressive at enforcing personnel policies, but I guess that’s what she gets paid to do.”

“You’re not the only one that doesn’t like her,” I inform him. “I’ve already met two Lab employees that seem to have a grudge against her.”

“I think that you’ll find even more if you look around a little,” he says. “She’s been instrumental in the dismissal of a variety of really good people over seemingly petty violations of the rules. Nobody likes to see her coming. She normally comes across as being very nice but can become very nasty when she has to. You definitely don’t want to be on the wrong side of an argument with her.”

“That might account for some of the cool receptions that Laurie and I have already had,” I muse. “Maybe people fear that we’ll report back to her.”

“It could be,” he agrees. “You just need to appear clueless and focus on finding security leaks.”

“Oh,” I remember, “a few days ago we also received a request to leave listening devices in secure areas.”

This really gets his attention.  “It’s one thing to get loose documents. It’s another thing to eavesdrop on people working in secure areas. Secure areas are regularly swept electronically for listening devices. Who made that request?” he asks pointedly.

“It was part of our email reporting system,” I tell him, “so I assume that it’s coming from Mrs. Harrison or someone else on the security team.”

“Do you still have the email?” he asks.

“No, they clear our phones, computers, and email accounts of sensitive information every night after we’ve looked at them,” I reply.

“So that means that the security team will know about our little run this morning,” he observes. “I suspect that you’ll be getting contacted by someone on the team today or tomorrow at the latest to see what’s going on. Just let them know that you wanted to see your good old Dad for a while and catch up on things.”

We run on in silence for a few minutes while he thinks.

“Okay,” he settles on a plan, “I’m interested in seeing what happens when you do obtain access to sensitive information.  I know about a recent report that I can alter with false information that will sound very real but we’ve found that the process described really doesn’t work. I’ll make sure that it gets left somewhere were you can find it in the Ignition Facility. It won’t be terribly obvious but will be in the reception area. Let’s say in the receptionist’s desk file drawer. Photograph it and its contents then leave your listening device in the break room near the front desk after lunch on Tuesday. I’ll make sure that someone says something juicy to the untrained ear, but perfectly harmless otherwise.  Then we’ll see what kind of response comes back.” 

Now it sounds as if we are becoming double agents. This is getting very interesting.

“And don’t tell Laurie about this,” he warns me. “Does she know about our little run?”

“Not yet,” I reply.

“Keep it that way if you can,” he directs. “If you have to tell her, just say that you were a little homesick and wanted to spend some time with me.”

“Do you suspect her?” I ask.

“Not really, but it’s always best to err on the side of caution,” he replies. “Not only that, but it’s best to keep the circle small for now.”

Changing the subject, he asks, “So, how’s life as a girl?”

“Different,” I reply, “very different. I still have a lot to learn but the first thing I noticed is that being a girl is a lot more complicated than being a boy. I knew this–from being around girls–before the change but it really didn’t come home to me until after the change. Oh, and I learned that periods really suck.”

“Do you like it?” he asks.

I have to think about that one. What do you say? As I think about it life is life. Doing it as a girl is just different. Is it better or worse?  I don’t know, but I have a lot more experience being a boy so that is what I’m most comfortable with.

“I don’t think that it’ll be too bad once I get used to it,” I reply. “Right now I’m still trying to get my feet on the ground. I’m definitely having a lot of experiences that I never thought I’d have, but I would have been happy to go to scout camp this summer instead of being a girl. The one really difficult thing is that my relationship with Laurie has really changed.”

“I can imagine it has,” Dr. Quinn comments with a grin. “What’s difficult about it?”

“It’s confusing,” I reply. “She still seems to really like Chris but sees me as Tina. I found her in her room the other day looking at a picture of the real me. She obviously misses Chris. But now we have settled into roles as being best girl friends. It seems easier for her to separate my identities but it’s pretty hard for me.  Neither one of us really want to carry on like before under the present circumstances, but I’m finding it hard to detach myself from the situation and fully adopt my new role and putting my old self on the shelf.  I don’t think Laurie will have any problem going back to our old relationship any more than our planned separation would have caused, anyway as long as she keeps Chris and Tina separate in her mind.  I’m the one that will have the problem. I just don’t know where this is going.”

“Whoa,” he says, “Is this really Chris talking? I don’t think that you’ve ever analyzed a relationship this deeply before. You sound just like one of your sisters. Maybe you are fitting into the role.”

This comment really brings me up short. Am I really becoming a girl? Is that bad?

He notices my silence.

“Don’t worry about it, Tina,” he says. “You are a resilient kid. It might be best to just settle into the role for now. There’s nothing wrong with being a girl–heck, half the world is female–so don’t worry about it. I’m sure that you’ll easily make the transition back when the time comes.”

We’ve been maintaining a pace that is too slow for me but Dr. Quinn is sweating a bit. After three miles, we are approaching the Mercer’s home.

“Hey, Kid, keep your eyes open for the file and let’s try this run again when you notice results,” he says. “And stay alert. Keep your eyes open for signs of trouble. If someone in the security team is the problem, then the bad guys will know about your disguise and who you are.  Stay alert and watch for trouble. We love you, Kid, and I’ll do what I can to help you.”

“If they know who I am, then this whole charade has been a worthless exercise,” I point out.

“Maybe,” he agrees, “but then again maybe not.”

What a mixed up mess! This whole caboodle could be a lot of trouble for nothing. I’m not sure how I feel about that concept. If both sides know that I am Chris in disguise what good does it do remain like this?  There must be some kind of intricate intelligence dance going on here. I’m beginning to feel more like a pawn than an asset. 

“Thanks for the run, Dr. Quinn,” I say, “Why don’t we plan on doing this same time next week?”

“Sounds good,” he says, giving me our customary high five as I stop at the house and he continues on home.

---<>---

Laurie and Aunt Jen are just stirring as I enter the house. Laurie stumbles into the bathroom as I am taking my shower.

“Where’ve you been, Tina?” Laurie enquires sleepily.

“Out for a short jog,” I reply. “It was a beautiful morning and you were all still asleep so I thought I’d just do a short run. What’s on the agenda today?” I figure that she doesn’t need to know that I was meeting with my dad just yet.

Laurie mumbles something about morning people being annoying. If nothing else, maybe I can expose the Mercers to the joys of morning while I’m with them this summer.

“I don’t know,” Laurie responds. “Nothing much I guess. I agreed to meet Andy later this afternoon for another watercolor lesson when he gets off work.  Do you want to join us?”

This will be the first slow day in two weeks.  Maybe I can catch up on a few things.

“Maybe,” I reply. “It depends on what else comes up. We should also spend some time going through the list of suspects and start coming up with a plan for figuring out what’s going on.”

---<>---

I am just starting to check my Chris email while eating a light breakfast when my cell phone starts moaning again.  It’s Mrs. Harrison.

“Good Morning,” I answer cheerfully.  I’m pretty sure that this call is in reaction to my text messages last night.

“My,” she remarks, “aren’t you cheery this morning. I guess there is no need to ask how you’re doing.”

“It is a beautiful day,” I remark.

“Do you feel up to a long run today?” she asks.

“Sure,” I say, “I went out for a short jog this morning but hardly broke a sweat so a long run sounds good. I can be ready to go in about an hour if you like.”

“Sounds good,” she says. “I’ll come by your place and we can start from there.”

After hanging up, Aunt Jen asks, “What was that about, Darling?”

“Mrs. Harrison wants some company on a longer run,” I say. “It’s alright with you isn’t it?”

“Sure, Darling,” she replies.

---<>---

While waiting for Mrs. Harrison, I continue my weekly check of Chris's email. What I find is quite interesting: Dan’s is particularly intriguing.

Hey Chris... How’s it going? I hope you’re enjoying camp. Life got a lot more interesting around here this week. Your girlfriend’s cousin showed up and what a babe!  I got a call from Caitlin asking me to go running with her on Tuesday. She said that the team really needed to meet this girl. She was right. The girl’s name is Tina. I’m sure that Laurie has told you about her already, but I doubt she told you that the girl can run like the wind. She’s like a female version of you except that she’s infinitely better looking. A bunch of us have been running most evenings with her. The cool thing is that she’s not all prissy like the other girls. She showed up at the reservoir yesterday and played some volleyball with us in her swim suit. Man, is she hot! You should have seen her water skiing too. I think that half the team is drooling over her. It’s a good thing you’re at camp or you’d dump Laurie for this chick. Heck, I have half a mind to dump Suzie if I can make it with this girl. Too bad she’s only here for the summer. If nothing else, our team will be in great shape in the fall. All the guys want to run with her each evening. Anyway... enjoy the boys. I’ll take care of the girls for you. - Dan

Oh, man. What do I do about this? My best friend has the hots for me. It’s a good thing he doesn’t know who Tina really is. My reply to Dan suggests that he send me a picture of this super babe and for him to not throw away a good relationship for a girl that’s only there for a few months.

As I am getting ready for yet another run this morning, Laurie is looking through the suspect profiles that Mrs. Harrison left on my computer. 

“Why do you think that Mrs. Harrison wants to run with you today?” she asks.

I just shrug my shoulders. I’m not ready to tell her about my early morning meeting at this point. Particularly around the listening devices that we have in the room.

“We’ve been talking about running together all week,” I reply. “This is the first opening that we’ve had.”

The explanation seems to work for Laurie.

“I know a few of  these people,” she says as she continues to look through the profiles. “The ones that I know seem to be pretty decent people. A couple of them I would never suspect of any kind of wrong doing.  I also see a couple that Mom has mentioned over the years as being difficult to work with. We should have looked at this sooner.”

“Like when?” I ask sarcastically. “Today is the first day that I’ve had any time to myself. Or I did until Mrs. Harrison called.”

I also start motioning to Laurie a reminder that what we’re saying may be recorded.

After I dress for another run, Laurie and I go out to the front lawn to wait for Mrs. Harrison to show up.

 ”Listen, Tina,” Laurie says now that we are away from our electronics. “You’ve got to play it cool with Mrs. Harrison. Somehow we need to decide who’s on what side.”

“Yeah, I know,” I reply. “Do you have any good ideas?”

“No,” she replies in frustration. “But we do need to act clueless. We need to appear to be the simple and carefree teen girls that she wants us to be for now. I suppose that you can mention that you’ve established a good relationship with Caitlin and that I’ve made positive contact with Andy.”

We spend fifteen minutes tossing ideas around while I stretch before Mrs. Harrison comes running down the street.

“Hello, Laurie, Tina,” she greets us as she stops.

We exchange small talk for a couple of minutes before agreeing on a plan for our morning run. Laurie heads off to help with more household chores as Mrs. Harrison and I start our run.

“So, this is your second run of the day,” she states almost as a question.  It is an opening for me to explain myself. I’m pretty sure that she already knows who I was with so no point in trying to hide anything.

“Yeah,” I reply. “I was feeling homesick so I went for a short run with Dr. Quinn. I miss my dad and wanted to touch base with him.”

“You need to be careful about that,” she cautioned me. “I suggest that you avoid unnecessary contact with your real parents. We don’t want to blow your cover.”

‘If it’s not blown already’, I think to myself. Out loud I tell her, “I’ll try to be discreet.”

Changing the subject she asks, “How are things going with the Sommers?”

I’m pretty sure that she has already heard the recordings. “I’m not too sure. I am having difficulty acting like a troubled child. I guess that I’m not a good actor.”

“Actress,” she corrects me. “You’re a girl now and doing a great job acting like one. Anyway, have you seen or heard anything that might make you think that Dr. Sommers might not be trustworthy?”

“No,” I reply. “In fact I find him to be a very nice man with good values. The family seems pretty nice except the fact that Caitlin’s little brothers can be annoying. I do think that the kids are spoiled. Is there something that you think I should know about them?”

She thinks about my request for a minute before replying. “No, there is nothing that you need to know.  Just keep your eyes open and let me know if you see anything that might indicate that he is our leak.”

Maybe she hasn’t heard our recordings yet.  I know that she eventually will. Should I ask her about the problems between her and Dr. Sommers? I decide that I might as well.

“I did pick up on one thing,” I begin. “I get the feeling that there is something negative happening between the Sommers and you. You’ll hear about it on yesterday’s recording. Are you sure that there isn’t something I should know?”

“What did you hear?” she asks. She’s not giving anything away if she has listened to the recordings.

“Just that something happened between you and Dr. Sommers,” I reply. “He wouldn’t talk about it but Caitlin says that her parents don’t think much of you.”

“I guess I can understand that,” she sighs. “Suffice it to say that I had to pursue a personnel action against him a couple of years ago as part of what I do at the Lab. He managed to clear himself but he took the action against him personally. My job sometimes creates hard feelings with people when I have to enforce the rules.”

It’s obvious from her tone of voice that she still thinks he was at fault in whatever problem there was.

She asks me if Laurie has had any success with locating Andy Lang. I tell her about their painting lesson yesterday and that I think that they have another one planned soon.  Mrs. Harrison seems pleased with our progress.

Not much more is said on the topic as we continue our run.  She does let me know that she is pleased that I am establishing relations with Caitlin so quickly. Then she drops a bomb.

“I think that my son is really taken by you,” she says casually.

Now what! I seem to be attracting boys like honey attracts bears. Add Ben to the list. I can’t believe this–from what I hear from my sisters and other girls I know you’d think that attracting a guy is a difficult thing to do. I don’t even try and now I know of at least four guys who seem to have the hots for Tina–and one of them is my best guy friend. This is getting old fast–just like Laurie warned me. Maybe I will have to get bitchy after all.

“Oh,” I remark, “and why is that?”

“I don’t know,” she replies, “but you’re all that he can talk about these days. Every evening when he comes back from running with your group all he can talk about is how wonderful you are. Maybe we did too good of a job on you.”

“I don’t know about that,” I tell her, “but I seem to be picking up quite a fan club.”

“Is there a boy that you’re interested in?” she asks.

“You’ve got to be kidding, right?” I exclaim indignantly. “Why in the world would I be interested in a guy? I may be a 100% female physically, but I have been male all my life and the thought of being attracted to guy just seems wrong. No, for your information, I am NOT interested in any guy or guys, however I now have four–count ’em, four–boys who seem to be interested in me.”

She seems a bit taken aback by my outburst. “I just thought you’d take advantage of this opportunity to try experiencing life as a girl. Being attracted to boys is a normal female response.”

“Well,” I huff, “I’m not your normal female. I’m anything but normal. If Ben knew who I really am I’m sure that he’d get over his infatuation.”

“I’m sure he would,” she agrees, letting the subject drop.

---<>---

It is lunch time by the time I’m finished with the shower after our eight mile run. I’ve got the whole afternoon and evening without commitments–a first since this whole thing started.  Laurie wants me to come with her for her watercolor lesson with Andy down at Carnegie Park, but I want a little time to myself so I beg off and tell her I might just meet her and Andy at the park a little later. Aunt Jen is out shopping so I have the house to myself when Laurie leaves.

I’ve been female for two weeks now. Two weeks. It seems much longer. A lot has happened in that time, however I haven’t really had the time to think about the sex change situation in any real reflective way. Heck, I haven’t even really had the time to get a good look at myself–intimately that is.

Pondering the situation, I take my clothes off–all of them–and stand naked before the mirror like I did that one evening in Alaska.  Only this time I’m not in any rush. I turn from side to side trying to see myself from every angle.  Yep, I’m definitely a girl. I keep expecting Brain Central to check in with a warning, but nothing comes. After two weeks living in this body, the view doesn’t seem out of place. My self image has almost fully morphed into being that of a girl. In fact, I’m starting to remember life in a boy’s body as a slightly distance memory. You know what? It doesn’t bother me.

I really miss the simplicity of being a boy. Having to sit to pee is annoying. I miss being able to pee without getting mostly undressed. Breasts are also a complication of female life that I can do without. The darn things are always getting in the way and they bounce around too much when running. Oh yea, don’t forget about periods. Periods I can really do without.

Concerning clothes, I really miss the simplicity of my male wardrobe. On the other hand, I like experimenting with all the girl accessories. A girl can have so much fun with clothes, hair, and makeup if she’s feeling creative. It is amazing what you can accomplish with all the options available.

Grabbing a hand mirror from the bathroom, I lay back on the bed and spread my legs.  The mirror gives me a good view of my new intimate anatomy.  It looks a lot like the illustrations that Dr. Compton showed me on the flight to Alaska. I pull up similar illustrations on my computer as I continue my self exploration comparing my anatomy to what I see in the illustrations.  It is a wondrous new world down there. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t anything so complex and delicate as this. Cautiously I insert a finger in my vagina. It is very moist in there and feels very strange indeed–both on my finger and in my vagina.  I get a bit of a surprise as I brush my clitoris. Wow.

I notice my nipples getting hard as I continue my self-examination.  I back off before things get out of control, but not before I realize that physical stimulation can feel pretty good in this body.  I’m not ready to go all the way yet.  Brain Central seems to have reservations about playing intimately with this female body.

Coming back from the edge, I spend the next hour going through my limited wardrobe experimenting with different looks. I also experiment with my hair style. The variety of impressions that I can project simply by changing a top or even just shoes still amazes me. At the end of the session I end up in my cargo pants and REI pullover top.

Getting bored, I call Laurie on her cell phone to find that she is still with Andy at the park painting flowers. She rode her bike there and suggests that I borrow her mother’s bike and come and join them, giving me directions–as if I’m really from out of town.

It only takes fifteen minutes to get to the park where I find the pair sitting on a bench under a shady tree by a flower bed.  Laurie has a watercolor book open and is attempting to capture the essence of the colorful flower bed next to them. Andy is sitting close to her watching her progress and giving suggestions. His arm is on the back of the bench behind Laurie. A tinge of jealousy rises up in me.  I guess that I’m still not totally separated from Chris.

Laurie is very focused on her work and doesn’t notice me as I arrive. 

“Hey, cuz’,” I say as I park the bicycle.

She looks up and smiles. “Hey to you too. Tina, this is Andy. Andy, this is my cousin Tina from Alaska who I was telling you about.”

“Hi,” he says. He blushes a little and looks tongue tied–he has always been very quiet. I guess that he’s not used to being around girls–or anyone else that I know of for that matter.

“Hi, Andy,” I respond with a little girly finger wave–hey... I’ve got to act the part, don’t I? “I think it’s great that you’re helping Laurie learn how to paint.” Just sit a little further away from her, I’d like to add. To be fair, I suppose that he does get a better view of what she’s doing from his current position.

“It’s no big deal,” he responds. Not a man of many words, our Andy, that’s for sure. I can tell that he’d like to get back to the painting lesson, but Laurie is not going to let him get off so easily.

“Tina,” she continues the conversation, “what do you think of my painting? It’s almost done. Andy’s really helped me learn about composition and how to layer the colors to get a pretty neat effect. He was just telling me about a new technique to bring out the different colors of the flowers without worrying about making the detail too precise.  It’s a really neat trick.”

Looking over her shoulder at the painting and at the flower bed, I was able to see some resemblance between the two, but it is a little abstract. I am impressed, however, that it actually looks pretty good.  I didn’t know about Laurie’s artistic talent.

“I’m impressed,” I tell her as she pulls another painting out of a folder.

“Andy did this one.” She shows me; it is much more masterful.  He is very good.

“Andy,” I exclaim, “it’s beautiful! You’re really good at this. Like, do you do people too?” I wonder if maybe I can persuade him to do a painting of Laurie that I could have later.

Andy blushes–again–at the compliment. “Watercolors aren’t the best for portraits.  I can do a pretty good sketch though.”

“Could you show me how?” I ask. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to draw people.” I figured that I’d better get in the act to keep attachments from growing between the two of them.

Pulling a sketch pad out of his pack, he flips to a blank page. “I don’t know if I can teach you. You might need a class for that, but let’s first see what you can do.”

Taking the proffered pad and pencil, I sit cross legged on the ground in front of the bench and begin to sketch Laurie.  It is a pretty sad attempt.

“Ah, cousin dear,” Laurie says diplomatically. “You might want to stick to running.”

Frowning at the picture I have to admit that she’s right. Andy, I think, is trying to find a polite way to say the same thing.

Handing him back his pad, I respond, “I suppose you’re right. Andy, could you do a quick sketch of Laurie so I can see how it should be done?”

He agrees and has me sit with Laurie on the bench. We put our arms around each other and lean our heads together like two girl friends while he sketches.  In no time at all he shows us a rough sketch which is more of a caricature of us but you can really tell who is who.  It’s really neat.

“It must be nice to have talent,” I sigh.

“From what Laurie tells me,” he assures me, “you have talent. Just not as an artist.”

The three of us hang out for another hour while Laurie works on her paintings.  Before long, we are able to get Andy to relax a little and he gets less tongue-tied.  We spend time talking about school–I have to make stuff up about school in Alaska–and other topics. Comparing interests, we find that art and photography are passions of his. I find him very comfortable to be around and find that the two of us hit it off well even though our interests don’t exactly match. He seems like a really decent kid. I wonder why I never got to know him when I was a guy? 

I tried to get him to tell us about his family, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about them in any detail. Andy is an only child of working parents. I told him that I had met his father but he didn’t comment on it.

Before we know it, it’s time to head to our respective homes for dinner. Laurie and I both give Andy a hug when we part. You can tell it’s a new experience for him because he is pretty awkward about it. He blushes again; he’s pretty cute when he does that. I’m thinking that it is fun to throw guys off balance this way. I must admit that there are times when it’s really fun to be a girl.

“You did it again,” Laurie sighs as we ride home together.

“Did what?” I ask. I haven’t a clue what she is talking about.

“Put another boy under your spell,” she replies.

---<>---

Edited by Gabi–which is a very good thing!

Something Feels Strange…

“You did it again,” Laurie sighs as we ride home together.

“Did what?” I ask. I haven’t a clue what she is talking about.

“Put another boy under your spell,” she replies.

Chapter 26: Planting Seeds

“What do you mean?” I ask. “How did I a put a boy under my spell? What spell are you talking about?”

“You seem have this effect on the good boys,” she replies. “They seem to feel comfortable around you then–bam–they fall for you. I’ve worked with Andy two afternoons now and he didn’t relax around me once until you showed up and started talking with him. I mean, it’s like he’s scared of me or something. But you–he has no problem around you. After fifteen minutes with you, it’s like you’re best friends. After half an hour they’d follow you anywhere. You didn’t use any feminine wiles or anything. I don’t know how you do it. I know it’s not intentional, but most girls would give anything to learn how to attract guys like you do.”

“So, we hit it off as friends,” I agree defensively, “how does that mean that he’s fallen for me?”

“You certainly have a lot left to learn, girl,” she says. “Didn’t you notice how he seemed to forget that I was even there after a while?  I swear, it’s like the rest of the world ceased to exist for him. I think I could have stripped off all my clothes and he wouldn’t even have noticed.”

“I’d have noticed,” I point out, earning a warning look from her. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure I would have noticed her in the same way that Chris would have. “Anyway, what’s wrong with having a good conversation?”

“Oh, there’s nothing wrong with a good conversation,” she replies, “especially if you don’t mind someone falling for you.”

“I think that you’re over reacting,” I inform her. “It’s just that we hit it off as friends.”

She gives me that look again. You know, the one that says: ‘I’m right. Just wait and see.’

I wonder if I should tell her about Dan and Ben. Neither of those guys are the typical ‘good’ boy types. I figure that maybe she should know.

“Ah, I don’t think it’s just the ‘good’ boys,” I mention. This comment really makes her prick up her ears.

“What do you mean?” she asks. “You mean there’s somebody I don’t know about?”

“How about Dan and Mrs. Harrison’s son, Ben?” I let out cautiously.

“Dan and Ben?” she exclaims. “You’ve got to tell me about this, girl. How d’you know?”

“Well,” I begin, “Chris got this email from Dan this morning that goes on about your cousin. He’s really taken with Tina, even to the point that he’s thinking of dumping Suzie if he can make it with her.”

“No way!” she exclaims. “He and Suzie have been an item for a long time now. We must find a way to cool his jets. I’d hate to see Suzie get hurt.”

“Me too,” I agree, thinking, ‘I have no desire to get cozy with my best buddy either. That’d be just too weird.’

“So what about Ben?” she asks. “What’s going on there? Ben is really a bit of a jerk. Not the worst, but still a jerk.”

I check to make sure that my cell phone recording device is turned off–and make sure that Laurie does the same–before continuing. There is still a chance that they’d be turned on remotely, but I’m hoping not. I don’t intend to talk about our suspicions of the security team, but I’m likely to say uncomplimentary things about my boss’s son.

“His mother told me about it this morning,” I tell her. “Apparently I’m all he can talk about these days. Fortunately, Mrs. Harrison says that he doesn’t know who I really am.  The really weird thing is that I think she was trying to set me up with him. It’s like she was wondering if I’d be interested in dating him.”

“Weird,” she agrees. “Like, really weird.”

“Anyway,” I continue, “I seem to be attracting quite a fan club. What with Joey and Don in Alaska and now Dan, Ben, and–you say–Andy in California I think that my dance card is getting pretty full.”

She laughs, “I’d say! You’ll be the most popular girl in town by the end of the week if you keep this up. That is, you’ll be popular with the guys; the girls–on the other hand–will hate you if you manage to distract their boyfriends or guys they’re interested in.”

Oh joy.  I can’t say that I ever wanted to be the center of attention–particularly as a sex object for the guys and an enemy for the girls.

“What do I do when one of these guys asks me on a date?” I ask.

“You could give them the talk that you gave to Joey and Don,” she replies, “or you can go out with them.”

“I think that I’ll take option number one,” I tell her.

“Why? Aren’t you interested to find out what it’s like to date as a girl?” she asks. “It’d be a unique experience.”

“If you recall, I didn’t ask for this adventure,” I reply. “I could have lived my whole life without being a girl–like every other guy. Sure, dating a guy might be interesting, but there is still only one person that I’d like to date and I’ll have to wait till fall for that.”

“Yeah,” she responds, “but now that you’re here, why not take advantage of it? Tina can date without messing up my relationship with Chris. You’ll be back to your old self in a couple of months and maybe–just maybe–you’ll be more empathetic for us girls when we start dating again if you’ve had some of the experiences we girls face.”

“The same could be said to you as well,” I point out. “If you’d just spend three months as a boy then you’d be more empathetic for us guys.”

“True,” she agrees, “but I don’t have that opportunity.  You do, so I think that you should make the most of it.”

“We’ll see,” I respond noncommittally.

---<>---

We spend the rest of the afternoon out on the back patio reviewing the files of the various suspects and considering our next moves. It seems as if I am really in with the Sommers now. I should be able to learn more about what makes their family tick pretty soon. I really don’t see Dr. Sommers as a threat, but you never know. 

The Langs are another story. We are both worried that it’d be too easy to lose the tenuous relationship that we’ve started with Andy. One, or both of us needs to get closer to him. I’m pretty tied up with the Sommers and the running team right now, so we decide that Laurie should press the relationship, though she is skeptical about success because she still thinks that Andy has a thing for me.  I decide to stay out of the picture for now and see what happens.

Laurie tells me about a conversation that she had with her mother about Mrs. Harrison and Dr. Lang while I was out running this morning. Aunt Jen pretty much confirmed that there is a bad relationship there. She said that she doesn’t know the whole story but it seems there are legitimate complaints on both sides. The feedback doesn’t help us too much with figuring out whom to trust.

I contemplate telling Laurie about my conversation with Dr. Quinn this morning but, in the end, decide to tell her only part of the story. I feel guilty about it, but I feel that we need to limit those in the know about our little deception until it is done with. What I do tell her is my Father’s observation that he thinks that Mrs. Harrison is just aggressive in doing her job.

Concerning the other people on the list, we decide to just see what naturally happens until our controller asks us to do something different.

After dinner, I ask Laurie to help me learn more about makeup.  I’ve been reading some of the teen mags and realize I have a lot to learn about the subject before I’ll be up to speed with my new peers. I figured that she’d give me a hard time about the request but, instead, she seems pleased with the idea. We pull out a few magazines and spend the rest of the evening experimenting with different looks. We also play with our hairstyles. I find myself wishing that my hair was longer.  I now have a pretty good idea what makeup and hair supplies that I need to get for myself so we plan a shopping expedition for later in the week.

---<>---

It’s Tuesday morning–the big day for ‘discovering’ the mislaid secret stuff. It appears that I am to be assigned to the Ignition Facility for at least another week. Like last week, I man–or is that woman?–the front desk in the Director’s office, answer the phone, and run menial errands as requested.

Monday was uneventful as far as work goes. I didn’t make any noticeable progress in my mission. Also, I did not get any response to my weekend activities. I half expected to get some response from my handlers to my recorded conversations with the Sommers and Andy but there was nothing.  The evening was spent with Caitlin and the running team. It seems that we pick up one or two additional people each practice so we have a pretty good size group running together now. Some of the guys are–even though they try to cover it up–there to ogle my backside as I run.  They seem to hang out behind me as we run. A couple of the bolder ones are obviously trying to impress me with childish antics. It is sooo funny to watch. After running, Caitlin and I hung out at her house where we spent time out by their pool just talking and braiding each other’s hair. I’m totally inept at it, but with instruction from Caitlin I got better as the evening progressed. Caitlin pointed out that this activity would be better if I let my hair grow out more. I find that I really like having my hair worked on. It’s very relaxing.

Nothing particularly new about her family situation came out during our visit. The conversation wandered from the running team, the continuing torture at McDonalds, the injustice of parents, her perception that I needed to change my fashion sense to include more revealing clothes, and which guys she finds to be cute in her school class.  I did learn a lot about what girls think about the guys in our class. It was an eye opening experience. As I reflected on the experience afterwards, I realized that–at the time–I didn’t think that there was anything strange about our conversation even though it was totally different than anything that I’d ever experienced as a guy.

Anyway, back to the present: this morning there is a meeting in the conference room so I am left alone most of the morning as everyone else seems to be part of the meeting.  This gives me time to browse through the desk–as if I’m bored.  Eventually I find my way into the file drawer and, sure enough, the promised file is there with a ‘Top Secret’ label on it.  It is misfiled as if it was hurriedly placed there.  I take a photo of the drawer plainly showing the file then slip the file into a plastic bag.  When I get a chance to go to the ladies room, I take the bag with me and am able to photograph the dozen pages that make up the report. The report appears to have something to do about a breakthrough in laser technology for small weapons use but I don’t understand the technical details. When I’m done with the photographs and return the file to where I found it, I hit the button sequence on my cell phone to transmit the images to the security team.

The next challenge is to leave my cell phone in record mode in the break room when I return from lunch. I’ve been leaving it lying around a lot the past week, so people are used to seeing it where it doesn’t belong. Being mislaid in the break room should not arouse any suspicions. The only danger is that some well meaning person will return it to me before we can get what I need.

As I make my way to the cafeteria to meet Laurie for lunch, I run into Tiff and invite her to join us.

“I was just on my way there,” she says. “I’m meeting someone else there or I’d love to join you.  Maybe some other time.”

“What’s his name?” I ask as we walk to the cafeteria together.

“Who said that it was a guy?” she asks. I notice that she is turning slightly pink as she blushes.

“No one,” I reply, “it just seems that you are pretty excited about lunch. I figured that it must be a guy.”

“He’s just a guy that I met in my section,” she admits. “He’s also a summer intern and working on some engineering aspects of the project.”

“Is he cute?” I ask.

“I think so,” she replies with a grin, “but don’t tell him that.”

“So,” she says, changing the subject, “how are things with you? Are you getting settled? Have you met any cute guys?”

“I’m doing well,” I reply. “Everyone that I’ve met so far has been very nice. I’m starting to find my way around. I just wish that I had a car of my own to use. And as far as guys go, I seem to have picked up a couple of admirers but I’m not really in the market for a boyfriend right now.”

“Why not?” she asks. “Is there somebody waiting for you in Alaska?”

“Not really,” I say, “I’m just not ready for the complication right now. After all, I’ll be leaving to go home at the end of the summer and I don’t think that a long distance relationship would work. I’m not interested in the pain of a breakup either.”

“You sound just like my brother, Chris,” she observes. “He tends to avoid anything which might end in trouble.  You ought to get out and live a little on the wild side. You might find that the fun is worth the heartache. It’s a gamble, but you can enjoy the ride. Like gambling, the fun is in doing it, not whether or not you win.”

“I don’t mind hanging out with friends,” I say, “but I’m just not ready for a romantic entanglement.”

“Well, girl,” Tiff says as we arrive at the cafeteria, “give it some thought. Boyfriends can be kind’a fun.” She should know, I think to myself. She’s had enough of them over the years. “There’s my friend. See ya later, Tina”

“Bye,” I respond. What is it with everyone? It would seem that getting a boyfriend is the most important thing for a single girl to do.

Looking around I see Laurie is already in line getting food.  I join her and we find an open table in a corner of the room. From where we are sitting, I can see Tiff with her new target. She’s obviously taken with the guy. If it wasn’t for the geeky glasses he’d even be cute. He looks pretty fit for a geek.

“What are you staring at?” Laurie asks.

“Tiff,” I indicate with my eyes, “is making the moves on one of her new co-workers. We walked over here together and it would seem that she thinks that there is some potential there.”

Laurie looks over at the couple and comments, “He is pretty good looking in a geeky kind of way.”

“You should know,” I point out with a grin, “as you’ve spent a lot of time with Chris.”

“Yeah,” she admits, “I seem to have a thing for at least one running geek. They kind’a grow on you.”

“Tiff thinks that I should find myself a boyfriend for the summer,” I comment. “What is it with you girls? It seems that getting a boyfriend is top priority.”

“I don’t know,” she replies. “I guess that it is just nice to have a boy that makes you feel special. Chris is pretty good at it most of the time. I know that I am number one in his book–well, maybe number two, after running–and it makes me feel warm inside. He makes me feel like a queen and I like that. Maybe you should try it.

“I’ve been thinking about the Andy situation,” she continues. “I called him last night while you were out with Caitlin to see if we could arrange another lesson. He seemed to be a little skittish. I think I’m coming on too strong. We did set something up for tonight after dinner but he seemed nervous about it. He asked if you’d be there. I got the impression that he wants you there.  Anyway, I still think that he likes you and things might be easier if you can show up. Maybe you should be the one to get close to him.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m thinking that if I stay out of the way, that you’ll have better luck. Also, I don’t have much in common with him.”

“I’m getting the impression,” she responds, “that I’ll lose this one. You’re our best chance. Please, Tina, just come by the park tonight after your run. I’ll have spent an hour with him by then and we’ll see how far I get. Also, if you connect with Andy, then you can make it appear to the other kids that he’s your boyfriend, then it will keep the other boys at bay.  What do you think?”

I have been getting concerned with all the male attention that I’ve been attracting lately.  In fact, I’ve been feeling pretty defensive.  Laurie has a point about getting a boyfriend. It would help insulate me from the predators. He doesn’t need to be a real boyfriend–he just has to appear that way to the other kids.

“There are several problems with the idea,” I point out to her. “Not the first of which, I’m not ready to be anyone’s girlfriend. Another issue has to do with my disappearing act at the end of the summer. A boyfriend would want to keep in touch with Tina after she leaves.”

“And Caitlin and your other friends won’t?” she asks. “Your becoming popular will make it difficult for you to disappear gracefully.”

She has a point there. “Maybe Andy and I can be ‘just good friends’,” I relent. “It would get me into their lives so that I can see if Dr. Lang is doing something that he shouldn’t.”

“So you’ll come by after running?” she asks hopefully.

“I’ll be sweaty and smelly,” I remind her, “but yes, I’ll be there. Caitlin’s working tonight so I won’t be able to hang out with her anyway.”

“Great,” she exclaims. “I’ll let Andy know when I see him.”

“Don’t expect me to jump into his arms,” I warn her. “I’ll just try to be his friend.”

---<>---

Back at the office, I stop in the break room for a few minutes to make sure that the coffee machine is filled–one of my more technical duties–and manage to leave my cell phone on the counter near the coffee supplies.

I notice an old friend of Dr. Quinn’s entering the break room with a couple of colleagues a short time later. I’m pretty sure that this is show time, but decide to leave the phone in there for a few more hours just to be sure.

I didn’t need to worry about collecting it. One of the other women in the office noticed the misplaced phone about mid afternoon and returned it to me with an admonishment to keep track of my valuables.

---<>---

Arriving at the High School to meet the other runners, I notice Coach Arnold is there chatting with a couple of the other kids who beat me there.  One of them–my old buddy Dan–sees me coming and points me out to the Coach.

As I approach the group, the Coach greets me with a handshake, “So you’re the famous Tina,” he begins. “I’m Coach Arnold, the running coach at the school. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I blush as I respond, “Nice to meet you, Coach. I don’t think that I’m exactly famous.”

“You are with these boys,” he says–embarrassing the small group of guys. “I’ve had troubles for years getting my runners to work out in the off season. I can usually only get a couple of kids to work out. But you–the new girl in town–come along and within a week you have most of the team training every evening.”

“Actually,” I tell him, “You can thank Caitlin for that. She’s the one that got everyone together. I just needed a running partner.”

“Caitlin may have called everyone,” he responds with a grin, “but–from what I hear from the boys–you are the draw. Anyway, this is looking like a regular running team. If everyone keeps this up we should have the best team around in the fall. I hear that you’re just here for the summer. That’s too bad. If you’re half the runner everyone tells me, you’d be the top girl in the region.”

“I think they’re exaggerating,” I tell him with a slight blush. “I just like to run. I’m not all that fast.”

“You sound just like Chris Quinn,” he observes. “Too bad you won’t get to meet him. I think that you two probably have a lot in common.” If you only knew, I think to myself. “Chris always says that he’s not very good then he goes out and kicks everyone’s ass. He doesn’t seem to get the message that he really is very good. The victories don’t go to his head. We could use a few more like him.” His last comment was directed to the gathering group.

“Hey, Coach,” Dan asks, “Do you think that you can help us train this summer?”

“Dan,” the Coach replies, “You know that we can’t officially start training as a school team until August, but I don’t see why I can’t help as long as nothing is mandatory.”

Coach Arnold is a pretty accomplished runner himself.  I also know that he is a morning runner from past experience so getting him to work out in the evenings may be a problem. He does have a young family after all.

“Let me think about what I can do to help you,” the Coach continues. “I can’t stay long tonight. I just wanted to see if the rumors about all this running are true and to meet Tina the running sensation. I take it that you all have been doing distance training.  What do you think about mixing in some speed training as well?”

This idea brings groans from the group. What the Coach means is interval training which is really hard on the body. The end effect, however, is that everyone’s times get quicker when we mix in some interval training with our distance running.  High school races are generally pretty short so speed training is important.

In end, we agree to do some intervals once a week, starting tomorrow. We’ll find out who the serious runners then. I wonder if Caitlin will show up when she gets the word about the new training. Intervals are one bit of hard work that the girls–Caitlin in particular–have historically not taken seriously.

By now, the entire group has arrived, so we stretch then take off for a five mile run. There is a short cut along the way that reduces the distance to three miles and many of the slower runners take that route so that we all end up back at the school within ten minutes of each other.

I have borrowed Aunt Jen’s bicycle to get around–she doesn’t seem to use it much–so I use it to head out to find Laurie and Andy.

I find them at the park painting the old building that is in the middle of the park. Andy is standing behind Laurie, patiently giving encouragement and tips as she works. Parking the bike, I join them. The painting seems to be going quite well. I never realized that Laurie had any interest in painting. She’s pretty good for a beginner.

Andy seems happy to see me, but is still a bit tongue tied.

“Hey, Andy,” I say in greeting. “How’s my cousin doing?”

“She’s pretty good,” he replies.

“Hello, cousin,” Laurie says as she looks up from her work. She looks relieved to see me. “Whew, somebody could use a shower. You must have had a good run.”

“I’m not sure what your problem is, Cuz’,” I respond airily. “It’s just the smell of honest work. And, yes, I did have a good run. Thank you for noticing”

She just sticks her tongue out at me. I notice that Andy is keeping his distance as well.

I tell them about meeting the running coach and our plans for a bit more intensive training.

“You really do like running, don’t you?” Andy asks.

“Yeah, I do,” I reply. “It is nice to have something to focus on and feel good about. Everyone needs something like that in their lives. What's it for you?”

“I guess it’s art and photography for me,” he answers. “I also like computers a lot. I’ve been learning to use them for working with my art.”

“You mean Photoshop and stuff like that?” I ask.

“Yeah, but I’ve been learning a little web publishing and programming,” He replies. “I like experimenting with web site design.”

“That’s really cool,” I say. “I do some programming, but not much web based stuff. I’d like to see what you do. Have you got anything on-line yet?”

We spend the next half hour looking at some of his stuff on my smart cell phone which has internet capabilities–of course. Andy’s tongue becomes untied as he loses himself in explaining his work. He has done some really cool stuff. More than your average basic html coding. He apparently is using an old computer as a server at home so he can do just about anything he wants without worrying about space limitations. I’d like to know how to do that. Andy seems to have forgotten about helping Laurie as he enthusiastically shows off his work.

Laurie has been quietly continued work on her painting as Andy and I have been focused on my small screen. Andy–by necessity of the seeing the screen–has scooted close to me on the park bench. He seems to have forgotten about my sweaty smell.

“Uh, guys,” Laurie interrupts. “It’s getting late. Tina and I need to get home.”

Look up from the miniature computer screen; we notice that it is starting to get dark. The park’s lights have even come on. Where did the time go?

“Oh, yeah,” I say. “Laurie’s right. We need to get going. I really do need a shower. Thanks so much, Andy, for showing me your web sites. I’d really like to learn how to do this stuff. I have some ideas about programming that might really add to what you’ve done. Maybe we should find some more time to talk about this. We really need to have a computer handy so that we can experiment when we do get together.”

“I’ve got everything on my computer, obviously,” he says. “Why don’t you come to my house and we can work on it?”

“Sure,” I agree. “‘When?’ is the big question. I’ve got running every evening during the week which doesn’t leave much time in the evenings and you work on the weekends.”

“How about Saturday after I get off?” he asks. “I’m done by four.”

“You know that Saturday’s the Fourth of July, don’t you?” I ask in reply. “I hear that there are some great fireworks out at the rodeo grounds.”

“Oh, I forgot about that,” he replies with a touch of disappointment.

“How about we spend some time at your house then meet up with Laurie and go watch the fireworks?” I suggest. “That way we can do both things.”

“I suppose we could do that,” he agrees.

“It sounds like fun,” Laurie agrees.

“Great,” I agree. “It’s a date.”

My last comment causes Laurie to grin and Andy to turn white. I don’t think that he was thinking ‘date’. I wasn’t really either, the words just slipped out of my mouth without my thinking about it.

“So,” Laurie says as we bike back to her house in the dark, “you’re actually going on a date.”

“This is not a ‘date’ date,” I try to explain. “Just a couple of friends getting together to work on a project then hanging out at the fireworks with my favorite cousin.”

“Whatever,” she says with a knowing smile as if she’s not really buying the argument.

---<>---

Thanks, again, to Gabi for making this more readable.

Something Feels Strange…

“So,” Laurie says as we bike back to her house in the dark, “you’re actually going on a date.”

“This is not a ‘date’ date,” I try to explain. “Just a couple of friends getting together to work on a project then hanging out at the fireworks with my favorite cousin.”

“Whatever,” she says with a knowing smile as if she’s not really buying the argument.

I hate intervals. I mean, I really hate intervals. We have been doing a set around the track at the high school that the Coach calls ‘locomotive’. You start off by running an easy mile to warm up, then you run all out for 220 yards, jog for 220 yards, run all out for a quarter mile (440 yards), jog for a quarter mile, run all out for half a mile, jog a quarter mile, run all out for three quarters of a mile, jog a quarter mile, run a fast mile, then do the reverse, running three quarters mile, half mile, a quarter mile then a 220, all spaced with quarter mile jogs. The finish is a half mile slow run.  It is brutal if you do it the way it is supposed to be done. I’ve been running with a group of the guys–not the fastest group. One of the guys is really struggling to stay with us, so I hang back a little giving him some encouragement. I think that he is a bit depressed that a girl can outperform him. The other girls are skipping the middle mile run in order to finish in a reasonable time. Coach Arnold is running with us. He claims that he’s getting old so he’s running with my group instead of the front runners.

I’ve always liked Coach Arnold. He has a positive way of encouraging his team to do their best. It is plain to see that he really cares for his runners and they respond positively. Still, he doesn’t sugar-coat anything. He has the rare ability to tell you what you’re doing wrong and making you want to do it right next time.

Something that I hadn’t noticed before is that his approach with the girls is different than with the boys. He seems to be gentler in his encouragements when working with the girls. This seems strange to me as now I am being treated as one of the girls. I must say that I prefer the kinder approach.

As we start the final jog, Coach Arnold falls in step with me.

“Tina, I’m really impressed,” he says with a tone of sincere respect in his voice. “The team is right. You’re really good. Not only are you a good runner but you’re also a team player. I thought you did a great job helping that boy get through the run.”

“Thanks, Coach,” I reply. “But I really didn’t do very well and I needed the break that helping him gave me.”

“Are you sure that you’re not related to Chris Quinn?” he asks not expecting an answer. “That’s just the answer I’d expect from him. You can always do better, but I think that you did great today. You’re performing at a level far above the average girl runner your age. I’ve noticed how your example has the girls working harder than normal, particularly Caitlin over there. I understand that you two have become friends. I must say that I see a much needed positive change in her attitude. You must be a miracle worker.”

“Caitlin?” I ask. “I think you can attribute her changed attitude to having to learn to be of service at McDonalds. I didn’t do anything special.”

“Whatever,” he responds. “All I know is that, since you’ve shown up, the team is working like never before and Caitlin is going through a character shift for the good.”

“Just good timing?” I suggest.

“Maybe,” he replies with a smile. “Just keep it up. Are you sure that you can’t transfer here?”

“No,” I reply. “I really need to get back to my family and my old life at the end of the summer.” I’m sure that he didn’t catch the full meaning of my response–at least I hope not.

At the end of the run, we all collapse on the grass in the shade of the bleachers.  Everyone is covered in sweat–no simple ‘just perspiration’ here.

“Anyone interested in a pool party at my house Saturday afternoon before the fireworks?” Caitlin asks the group after catching her breath.

The question is met enthusiastically by the majority of the group.  Only a couple of us can’t make it due to other commitments.

When I let the group know that I’m already committed on Saturday a couple of the guys try to get me to change my plans.  Finally, Dan pipes up with “Hey, we can’t have a party without Tina. Caitlin, can we move it to Friday night? We can either skip or shorten our workout?”

“Don’t change your plans on my account; I’m only a visitor,” I protest. “I’d love to hang out with you all but you shouldn’t work around my schedule.”

 The boys in particular don’t seem to agree with me. Caitlin doesn’t have a problem with the change so the idea gets kicked around by the group. Still not everyone can make it, but the majority decided that Friday is better than Saturday. Everyone agrees to bring food to contribute. It is agreed that we can each bring a friend along if we’d like. So, a party is born. Caitlin doesn’t seem to worry that her parents might have other plans.

“Aren’t you the popular one,” Caitlin comments when we get to her house. “I could get jealous, you know. I don’t think that they’d change an event just so I could be there.”

“Honest,” I defend myself, “I’m not trying to be the center of attention. I just don’t understand why I’m not invisible any more. It’s probably just the ‘new girl in town’ effect. Anyway, you’re a lot cuter than I am.”

“Yeah, right,” she dismisses my argument. “You’re a regular hottie. I’m just good old Caitlin–the bitchy girl in tight clothes. Since when were you ever invisible? Girl, you can’t tell me that you aren’t popular back in Alaska.”

“Hey, you’re a cool girl–and you could change the way you dress if you want to–but, honest,” I try to convince her, “I’m nobody special in Alaska. Like I said, it’s just the new-girl-in-town syndrome. I’m sure you’d be the talk of the town if you were to come back to Anchorage with me.”

“Maybe,” she admits, “but I doubt it. Like I said, I could be jealous if wasn’t for the fact that you’re just so innocent. Or is that naive? Anyway, I can’t put my finger on it, but you’re really a different girl–in a good way. Whatever it is, when it comes to boys you’re like honey to bees. You’re cute, smart, friendly and seem to be get along with everyone. I’d love to hate you, but I like being around you. I feel like becoming a nicer person when you’re around.”

Wow. Where did that come from? I guess that we’re getting closer as friends than I thought. I am really starting to like her as well–as a friend.

“I love you too, girl friend,” I admit. It’s a Kodak moment as we give each other a hug. Expressions of closeness are not something that I’d never have dreamed to say or do with one of my guy friends when I was a boy. It’s strange but it also feels right.

What am I thinking? What if Dr. Sommers is the leak? How in the world could I hurt my new friend by turning him in?  This could be getting complicated.

---<>---

I don’t stay long at the Sommers, but agree to help Caitlin organize the party on Friday. I’ll try to get off work early that day to help.

When I get back home–the Mercer house really is feeling like home now–I find Laurie working on this week’s questionnaire which reminds me to do the same.  I take my laptop out to the back patio to enjoy the evening air while I work.  Along with the questionnaire is another request to penetrate secure areas. Also, I receive direction to learn more about the Sommers’ personal activities.  In the comments portion at the end, I mention my plans to go to the Lang home on Saturday to establish contact there. There is not even a hint that they got the planted items I sent yesterday.

As I’m finishing up my computer work, Laurie quietly comes out and signs to me that she’d like to take a walk with me. It takes me a few minutes to finish, close down the computer, take it to my room, and meet my best friend out on her front step. 

As we stroll down the street we bring each other up to date on what’s happening in our individual lives. She’s been working some on her watercolors and has been hanging out with Amy while I've been running and visiting with Caitlin. She tells me that she's thinking about inviting Amy, Cindy, and Marjorie over Friday night for another slumber party and asks me to join them. At this point I tell her about the pool party at Caitlin’s.

“You’re a pretty busy girl,” she comments without enthusiasm. “We don’t seem to get a lot of time together.”

I sense that Laurie is feeling a little left out.

“I know what you mean,” I agree. “It looks as if this job is becoming a twenty-four hour a day effort. Hey, girl, why don’t you come with me to the party? Everyone else is bringing a friend, I’m sure that you’d be more then welcome”

“I don’t know,” she waffles, “I’m not really part of that crowd.”

“If Chris invited you,” I point out, “you’d be there in an instant. You know most of the kids from hanging out with Chris last year.”

“I’ll think about it,” she relents.

“Please,” I make puppy eyes at her, like she used to with Chris so often. “Pretty please? Maybe you’ll see something that I don’t which will help the investigation. We can be a team.”

“Okay,” she laughs, “I’ll go with you. But no making out in the corner like the last of these events that we went to together.”

We walk along quietly for a few minutes before she speaks again. “I’m feeling like we won’t get to spend much time together this summer as you’re making some new good friends that you have to keep an eye on.”

“I know,” I agree sadly, “Actually, I have to admit that I’m enjoying spending time with Caitlin. We’re becoming close friends–in fact, tonight she pretty much admitted that I’m her new best friend. I like her a lot too–as a friend. This Andy thing has gotten me worried, but at least he seems to be a really good guy. The main problem with all this is that I don’t spend enough time with my best friend of all.” I put my arm around her shoulders and give her a friendly hug.

“I agree,” she sighs. “I had visions of us spending all our free time together this summer. It’s just that you’ve had a lot less free time than I have. I understand the need for you to do these things, but I want to be a bigger part of your life this summer.”

“You wouldn’t consider taking up running, would you?” I ask, already anticipating the answer. I’ve tried this before without success. Laurie is just not into running or sports in general.

“I’m almost tempted,” she says, “but I’d never get in shape enough to enjoy it by the end of the summer even if I wanted to.” That’s the closest she’s every come to considering running. She must really be feeling left out.

“How about this: let’s spend Saturday together before going over to Andy’s house,” I suggest. “just you and me.” I really would like to spend more time with her too.

“Great idea. It’s a date,” she grins as she quotes my comment to Andy.

After talking about what we’d like to do we decide to take the train into San Francisco and spend Saturday morning hanging around the city for several hours. We just need to talk Aunt Jen into giving us a ride to the station and pick us up when we’re done. We’ll do some sightseeing, maybe some shopping–that’s Laurie’s idea, but it sounds more interesting that it did a few weeks ago–and have lunch at our favorite place in China Town. The trip will be keeping in character with showing the out-of-town relative around. It’s also just what the doctor ordered for maintaining my most important relationship.

When we arrive back at the house, Aunt Jen has already gone to bed so we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to ask about the ride situation.

I give Laurie a hug as we part to go to our rooms. “Thanks for being there for me, girl friend,” I whisper in her ear. “I love you.”

She gives me a big squeeze and replies with sincerity, “I love you too, girl.”

As I get ready for bed I hardly notice the flimsy pink baby doll nightie and matching panty that I grabbed out of my drawer–my mind is on these strange new relationships that I have with Laurie and Caitlin. I’ve seen the closeness of girl friends before, but it is altogether another thing to experience it. I realize that my relationship with Laurie, as Tina, is different that my relationship with her as Chris. In some ways it is so much nicer. It seems we have more in common now, but the romance is gone. I’m not really sure which relationship is better.

I get a warm feeling when I think of having such close friends as Laurie and Caitlin that I can talk to. I had close friends as a guy, but this is different–much different–and I really like it. I’ll hate to see these relationships go at the end of the summer even though I am looking forward to getting the romance back.

---<>---

A knock at my bedroom door arouses me from my deep sleep. “Wake up, sleepy head,” Aunt Jen calls, “We’ll be late for work if you don’t get moving.”

Ugh. I’m sore all over from yesterday’s training. I really hate interval training–honest! All this evening activity is also robbing me of my early morning person reputation.

Laurie is in the shower as I stumble into the bathroom and sit on the toilet to relieve myself. I figure that I can do it if she can. As I’m washing my hands, the water in the shower goes off and Laurie throws back the shower curtain as she reaches for her towel.

“Don’t stare,” she admonishes me as she catches me watching her via the sink mirror. She is stark naked. “It’s not ladylike. After all, I don’t have anything that you don’t. Sexy nightclothes by the way. The baby doll looks really good on you.” Yep, the rules have definitely changed.

“I’m not staring,” I defend my actions, “just looking. I was thinking that I’m glad my breasts aren’t as full as yours. Fuller breasts would make running even more difficult. Can I use the shower now?”

“Sure,” she replies, “I’m sure there’s still some hot water left. By the way, I like my fuller breasts and I think that Chris does too.”

“Oh,” I reply, “take it from me. He does like them–on you.”

Since nakedness is now okay, I quickly strip off my clothes and hop in the shower while Laurie finishes drying herself.

“What’re you going to wear today?” she asks as I start up the shower.

“I don’t know,” I reply, “Any suggestions?”

We discuss the options for a couple of minutes before deciding on skirts and tops that will allow us to look somewhat coordinated. In fact, she ends up borrowing one of my tops.

---<>---

I know that it’s only been a couple of days, but I keep watching for someone to look as if they’ve been chewed out about the ‘breach’ of security that I ‘discovered’ on Tuesday. So far there is no indication of any corrective measures being taken.  These things must take time.

At lunch we meet up with Aunt Jen in the cafeteria. We notice Tiff over in a corner with her current love interest–or should I say target?  They are obviously enjoying each other’s company.  I wonder if he’s asked her out yet.

The rest of the afternoon passes uneventfully. The big report project at the Ignition Facility is over, but several of the staff are taking the rest of the week off so I will definitely be working here until Friday.  I call Mrs. Harrison to see if I can take Friday afternoon off and to make arrangements for our Sunday run. She calls me back after checking with the people that I’m working for.

“Tina,” she tells me, “you are free to go Friday at lunch time. Laurie can go too. By the way, how do you like working at the Ignition Facility?”

“It’s alright I guess,” I reply, “the work’s not too challenging, but the people are very pleasant to work with. I’m not sure if I’m doing you any good over here, so if you have someplace you’d like me to be, just send me there.”

“The Ignition Facility people are pretty pleased with your efforts,” she informs me. “In fact, they’ve asked if they can keep you for the summer. We can talk more about it Sunday, but I’m thinking about letting them have you. I think that there’s plenty of work for you do while you’re there.”

Toward the end of the day, Dr. Lang comes through the office with another member of the team. He doesn’t give me the time of day. I get the impression that he doesn’t take notice of staff or those who are there to serve him. I am requested–actually more like ordered–to bring them coffee in the conference room that they are using. His people skills can use some work.

---<>---

Caitlin pulled another evening shift, so I got home earlier than usual after the evening workout. The three of us decide to go hit a sale at the store that Marla works. Aunt Jen must have called Mom Quinn as she and Tiff are there when we arrive. Walking into the Junior’s section sends a chill up my spine as I remember the last time that I was here. That visit almost a month ago but in many ways seems like an eternity ago. Laurie sees the trepidation in my eyes and gives me a reassuring squeeze.

Marla is helping another customer find a skirt when we arrive but she excuses herself for a minute and comes over to give me a big hug when she sees us.

“It’s so good to see you here again, Tina,” she whispers in my ear. “I was afraid that returning here might be too traumatic for you.”

“You’ve got to confront your fears, ya know,” I tell her. “Actually, I’m okay with the change now. I can play the part for the summer.”

Later while I’m looking through a sales rack for new skirt, Mom Quinn quietly asks, “How’s it going, Chris? I miss you and I’ve been worried about how you’re adjusting.”

“It’s good, Mrs. Quinn,” I reply. She winces a little at the formality. “I really miss you too, but I’ve adjusted pretty well and am actually finding the new disguise to be kinda fun. Being a girl is not really all that bad. I can’t wait until we have the time so that I can share with you all the adventures we’ve been having. Anyway, for now I’ve decided to relax and go with the flow.”

“Aren’t you worried about the transition back?” she asks.

“Naw, not really. While I’m enjoying myself right now, I am looking forward to getting back to my old self in August.” I reply as I hold up a nice denim skirt to my waist. “Do you think this skirt is too short?”

“You really are acting like a normal teen girl,” she observes, “and, yes, that skirt is too short for a daughter of mine. Just remember–we’re here for you if you need us.”

Putting the skirt back on the rack, I tell her, “I know, Mom, and I really appreciate that. I love you guys. Can you help me find a skirt that I can wear while hanging out with my new girl friends? I’m looking for something cute but not overly feminine that is still reasonably modest.”

We spend an hour slowly moving through the store. I make sure that everything that I try on is something that Laurie likes. After all, she’ll inherit my growing wardrobe at the end of the summer. It’s actually fun to work together on this shopping. In the end, I go home with a couple of tops, a new pair of slacks for work, two matching bra and panty sets, and a short cotton night shirt for the warm nights. I couldn’t find a skirt that I liked. Laurie got the same lingerie and a similar night shirt so that ‘we can be twins’.

Arriving home, we spend time in my room trying on–again–the clothes that we bought. It’s a good thing that we’re essentially the same size as we try on each other’s purchases. The whole time we are discussing the various combinations that can be made and the occasions for which they are appropriate. We get tired before we run out of discussion.

Lying in bed as sleep begins to claim me, I smile to think how good life is right now. I just wish I knew what is really going on out at the Lab. I’m feeling happy that I’ve had this opportunity to spend the summer with my girlfriend. It’s not every boy that gets parental approval to hang around his girlfriend when she’s naked.

---<>---

I’m not sure why anyone bothered to come to work today. Half the office seems to be gone and the rest don’t seem in any hurry to get anything done. There is a lot of visiting going on. I suppose that it’s the letdown after completing a big project coupled with the fact that this is a four-day holiday weekend.  It seems that everyone has big plans for the weekend. By noon, most people are finding excuses to leave early. No wonder we’re allowed to have the afternoon off.

After a quick lunch at home, Laurie and I spend some time making cookies for the party before heading over to Caitlin’s by bicycle. I’m wearing my running clothes and have a day pack with my swimming stuff and a change of clothes. While we’re out running Laurie is going by the art shop to confirm our ‘date’ with Andy tomorrow and to pick up some more watercolor supplies.  She’s really getting into the painting.

Caitlin is mowing the yard when we get to her house.  She’s none too happy about it, but I guess that her brothers got out of the chore since they claimed that they didn’t ‘have’ to do it until Saturday and if Caitlin wanted it mowed she’d either have to do it herself or pay them double. Did I mention that the Sommers’ boys are little snots? There doesn’t seem to be a lot of love lost amongst the Sommers’ siblings.

While Caitlin finishes the yard we go inside to see what we can do to help. After introducing Laurie to Mrs. Sommers we are put to work making lemonade and other treats for the party. 

While helping to straighten up the public areas of the house, both Laurie and I keep our eyes open for anything that might look out of place. The only things which seem even remotely connected with the case are a few mementoes which appear to be Arabic in nature. While admiring them, Laurie ask Mrs. Sommers where they’re from.

“Those were given to my husband when he was in Baghdad a couple of years ago,” she replied.

“Baghdad?” I ask as I go over to see what they are examining. “That sounds dangerous. I don’t think that I’d like to go there right now. I hope that he was in a safe place.”

“Well,” she replied, “not as safe as I would’ve liked. He was over there for three months helping to implement some of his work. Sometimes, in his spare time he worked with other volunteers to help needy families repair their homes. That wasn’t at all safe.”

“I bet you were happy to get him home,” Laurie observed.

“Oh, I was,” she stated. “I know that I’m selfish, but I really hate it when he puts himself in harm’s way. He has a good heart and can’t seem to resist helping someone that needs it. He didn’t have to leave the secure compound, but he let the people work their way into his heart and he into theirs. They gave him this vase made by one of the women that he helped. The small rug over there was also made by some of the people he worked with.”

“Cool,” I say, “Does he still keep up with these people?”

“He tried to, for a while,” she responded, “but eventually most of them quit responding. There’s one man who still corresponds from time to time, but we don’t really know what happened to the rest. We just hope that they’re alright. I know that my husband worries about them often.”

“It sounds as if he really made a difference over there,” Laurie mentions.

“Oh, he did,” she replied. “It seemed to make a difference in him too. He’s much more compassionate than he was before his trip. He also seems to have become more committed to his work. That’s why he didn’t take off early like most of his colleagues today. It would seem that whatever he does out there he sees as helping to fight oppression and he really immerses himself in it.”

“Wow,” I say in awe. “I hope that I can find something to do with my life that will make that kind of a difference.”

“You are already, Tina,” she smiles at me. “Caitlin is becoming more like her old wonderful self now that you’re around. I don’t know what you’ve done, sweetheart, but we thank you from the bottom of our hearts for helping our girl.” She gives me a quick hug.

“I don’t think that I had much to do with it,” I reply returning the hug. “She’s basically a great girl and a nice friend. What I meant is I’d like to make a difference in the world.”

“Sometimes our biggest impact is in the lives of the individuals around us, but I’m sure that you will have a broad impact on the world, Tina,” she assures me, “and you too, Laurie, but for now, we better see what we can do to make a difference for this party.”

So, Dr. Sommers has Middle East contacts. I believe they would call that ‘opportunity’. He definitely has the ‘means’ since he has access to all sorts of secret information. The question is whether or not he has the ‘motive’. You need all three to prove that there might be a problem. Still, I can’t see a good hearted man like him sending secrets to the enemies of freedom. I’ll have to share the recording of this conversation with the security team. Hopefully they can check on this contact to see that there is no harm being done there.

By the time we need to head over to the school for running, we’ve finished straightening up the yard and pool, set up tables for the food, and hauled a stereo system outside.  I must say that the setting looks pretty nice.

---<>---

“Hey, Tina, slow down,” Ben calls to me. “This is supposed to be a light workout.”

We’ve only been about a mile and it seems that everyone is wanting to quit. Nobody’s heart seems to be in the workout today. They all want to head to the pool.

“Come on guys,” I respond, “the pool will feel better after a good run.”

This comment is met with groans and general mutiny. It’s not worth the fight.

“I tell you what,” I say to the group as I slow down. “Why don’t you all just circle back to the school then head over to Caitlin’s once you’ve got your stuff. I’ll just run to her house.”

I was riding with Caitlin anyway so I don’t have to go back to the school to get a car or anything. I was planning to shower at her house anyway.

“Great idea,” says one girl, “but Caitlin’s house is like five miles away. Are you sure that you should run that far alone?”

It’s not really that far–more like four and a half miles– but I bite my tongue to keep from telling her I used to do more than that by myself all the time. Of course, I was a boy then but they don’t need to know that.

“I’ll run with her,” Ben announces.

“Me too,” Dan adds quickly.

Do I sense a little competition for my attention? Sounds like Alaska all over again. Suddenly, Ben doesn’t seem so tired anymore.

“What about your stuff back at the school?” I ask the guys.

“Someone else can bring it,” Dan says, then makes arrangements for it to happen.

“Well,” I tell the girl with a grin, “with these two bodyguards I should be alright–that is if they can keep up.”

With that, our plan swings into action and I take off at an accelerated pace with my two bodyguards. After a mile at a fast pace I can tell that my companions are starting to struggle–and so am I–so I ease off the pace. As Ben said earlier, there is no real rush. The two guys are getting macho on me so I’m sure that they won’t be the ones to ask to slow down.

“How are you guys doing?” I ask as everyone gets their breath back.

“Fine,” they both answer, somewhat breathlessly. I’m not really convinced.

The conversation is limited as we finish the run. We talk about why we like running and other general topics. I get the sense that the boys are each annoyed with the other’s presence–a sure sign that they are both interested in furthering a boy/girl relationship. I, for one, am glad that both of them are there. It’s a lot better than one.

We actually arrive at Caitlin’s before the rest of the crowd.  The guys just collapse on the grass under a shady tree as I start into my cool down stretching routine.

“Hey,” I ask, “aren’t you guys going to do some stretching? It’s important to keep your muscles loose after you run.”

“Naw,” says Ben, “We’ll just watch you do it for us. You look a lot better doin’ it than we do.”

The lecherous bastard. I respond with a look that could kill.

“Ben, it’s no wonder you don’t have a girlfriend,” Dan says disapprovingly.

“What?” Ben asks in confusion. “I just gave her a compliment.”

Ignoring the idiot, Dan joins me for some stretching. I make sure to keep Dan between me and the lecherous bastard, so I don’t give him any cheap thrills as I do my stretches.

“You know,” Dan says to me quietly to avoid being overheard. “Ben is, despite his crudity, actually correct. You are very good looking and, to top it off, easy to be around. You’re really making this summer something special for all of us. I’m glad you came. Are you sure you can’t stay?”

“Thanks for the compliment,” I quietly reply, “but, no, I can’t stay. Anyway, I haven’t really done anything to earn the praise.”

“Sure you have,” he responds. “You are like a cool breeze on a hot day. Just being here makes everything better. Too bad you’re not staying. I think that we’d make great friends, you and me.”

Oh no! Where’s the fire extinguisher? Somebody has to put out this guy’s fire–fast!

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Another chapter made better by Gabi. Thanks!

Something Feels Strange…

“You know,” Dan says to me quietly to avoid being overheard. “Ben is, despite his crudity, actually correct. You are very good looking and, to top it off, easy to be around. You’re really making this summer something special for all of us. I’m glad you came. Are you sure you can’t stay?”

“Thanks for the compliment,” I quietly reply, “but, no, I can’t stay. Anyway, I haven’t really done anything to earn the praise.”

“Sure you have,” he responds. “You are like a cool breeze on a hot day. Just being here makes everything better. Too bad you’re not staying. I think that we’d make great friends, you and me.”

Oh no! Where’s the fire extinguisher? Somebody has to put out this guy’s fire–fast!

Chapter 28: Pool Party & The City

“I’m sure we’d be just friends,” I try to emphasize the lack of romantic attraction.

Fortunately, Caitlin chooses just this moment to arrive giving me an excuse to leave the boys.

“Whew,” she says holding her nose, “You guys stink. You boys’ll have to wait out here until your other clothes arrive then take a shower before you get in the pool.  There’s a shower in the pool house out back you can use. Come with me, Tina.”

Once we are in the house, she sends me to her room where I left my clothes earlier then to the shower for a quick rinse to get the perspiration off. When I get back to Caitlin’s room to stow my stuff, I find a couple of the other girls from the team there changing into their swim suits. I hardly notice them until I’m half-way out to the back patio, when it occurs to me that neither I nor Brain Central hardly even glanced at the almost-naked girls when I was in Caitlin’s room.  Just another day with the girls.

Going out to the pool, I find that most of the other kids have also arrived and the food table is starting to fill up. Laurie has arrived also and is chatting with a couple of the other girls. Coach Arnold is here with his family which includes his lovely wife and two adorable children–a three year-old girl and a
boy who is a little over one.

“Hey, Tina,” Coach calls to me as I leave the house. “Come meet my family.”

Mrs. Arnold is holding the little boy–Mikey–on her hip.  As he is introduced Mikey leans over with his arms stretched out for me to hold him. I instinctively reach out and gather him in, holding him on my hip while I say hi. He immediately starts to explore my face with his hands. The girl–Jessie–is shy and hides behind her mother.

“Sorry about that, Tina,” Mrs. Arnold says trying to take Mikey back. “He’s a real people person. He thinks everyone wants to hold him.”

“That’s alright,” I reply. “He’s cute. Can I hold him for a few minutes?”

Several other girls come over to play with the baby–toddler really–and he gets passed around the group until he’s met everyone.  Several of the girls have apparently babysat for the Arnold’s before and know the children well. I notice the boys are keeping their distance from the baby.

“Caitlin,” Coach Arnold asks, “may I talk with the group for a couple of minutes?”

“Sure, Coach,” she replies then calls everyone over.

“I’ve been thinking,” he begins. “With all this running you all are doing, I think you might like to enter some races. Real race experience will be helpful in the fall when we start the school running season. I’ve been looking around and there’s a race somewhere within driving distance almost every Sunday morning
over the summer. What do you think?”

Everyone starts talking at once, but the consensus is favorable. A couple of the kids have other commitments on Sundays, but most of us are available.

“I’m glad to hear it,” the Coach smiles as he starts to hand out large envelopes. “I’ve put together packets with the schedule and entry information for races I think you should try. You’ll need parental permission to enter the races, so take the packets home and discuss this with your parents. It’s too late to get things together for this weekend, but we can shoot for the race in Castro Valley next weekend. It has both 5K and 10K events. Just to remind you: this is NOT a school sponsored activity. You don’t have to enter any or all of the races, just do what you’d like to do. You’ll have to work together to
arrange rides and anything else you need.”

Dr. Sommers thinks this a great idea decides to help, “Alright, I’ll spring for shirts for the runners so you can look like a team. You all just need to tell me what you want on them. Caitlin, can you handle it?”

“Sure, Daddy,” she squeals as she jumps up and down with excitement. I’m not sure making her the fashion consultant is a good idea. I just hope she gets us something decent.

After much discussion, we settle on a team name: Cool Runners. Kinda’ corny but it beats Tina’s Teamies, which Caitlin suggested. The ‘Cool’ part was apparently inspired by my Alaskan ties. Laurie sketched out a couple of cartoon images of a polar bear in running shoes and wearing sunglasses which caught everyone’s fancy. One of the images has the bear coming right at you. The other shows the back side of the bear as if he is running away from you. You’ll never guess which image will go on the front and which on the back of the shirt.  She really is a good artist.

Most of the girls have been admiring my running shoe necklace over the past week or so. I hardly go anywhere without it–including running. A couple of the girls have already been down to the store to get one for themselves. They all decide we need matching ones for when we travel as a team. I hope the store has
enough. I’ll never understand the need for girls to do everything as a group, but I have to admit it’s nice to be part of the team.

Once the business is over, someone turns on the music and everyone wanders off to do whatever. Several kids start a game of keep-away in the pool with a small ball.  Others just hang out, eat, and visit. A few of the ‘couples’ start dancing.

I join Laurie who is visiting with a couple of the girlfriends of other runners.  One of the girls is Suzie, Dan’s girlfriend. She gives me a decidedly frosty reception. I guess she’s picked up on Dan’s interest in me. From my former existence I know she really is a very talented and wonderful girl. She’s also very good looking and is a cheerleader. I can’t see why Dan would even dream of dumping her for me. Suzie and I have been in a lot of classes together over the years. She is something of a science geek–not your normal cheerleader. I really like her, or did up to now.

Laurie introduces me to the group as her visiting cousin.

“I hear you have the guys on the running team following you around with their tongues hanging out,” Suzie mentions with a degree of venom in her tone. I guess she’s thrown down the gauntlet.  The other girls wait to see my response. I don’t think I should tell her about my little chat with Dan earlier.

“Actually,” I reply as casually as I can, “I’m not sure what their problem is. All I’m looking for is a running partner this summer and Caitlin decides to invite the whole team to join in the fun. I don’t think it’s me they are here for. While it is fun running with a team, I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”

I’m pretty sure they don’t believe me.

“The sweet, innocent type,” Suzie notes to the group. “They drive the guys mad. Well, sweetie, you may not be trying to attract a boyfriend, but, from what I’ve heard, you could have your pick from the team. If you don’t mind, some of them are spoken for already. You’re making us work extra hard to keep them. You can have Ben, though. I don’t think anyone else is interested in that jerk.”

“I’m sorry, Suzie, is it?” I respond as if I don’t know her. “I really don’t want to complicate things for anyone.  I just want to run and hangout with my cousin and a few kids this summer. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is get cozy with some guy during my short stay here. I just don’t need the complication right now. My family sent me down here to screw my head on straight, not to make a mess of things.”

As this goes on, the rest of the girls just stand there and watch. I wonder who’s keeping score. I can tell I’m not making much progress.

Fortunately at this time, some guy grabs me from behind and tosses me in the pool. I don’t even see who it is.  Most of the rest of the girls have the same problem. There are lots of squeals and shrieks as pool is filled with sputtering girls. I have to admit I was the first to scream. I’m getting to be such a girl.

The guys are standing laughing by the pool until one of them shouts, “Cannonball!” At which command the whole bunch jumps into the pool in such a manner that they make a huge splash and nearly drown the girls already in the pool, generating another round of screams.

This is fortunate for me because I wasn’t sure how to end the little standoff with Suzie.

Over the next couple of hours we play in the pool, snack, and hang out together.  I try my best to avoid Dan and Ben, but both went out of their way to be near me most of the night. I caught Suzie giving me the evil eye several times throughout the evening as Dan was not sticking as close to her as he normally does.  I never once saw him put his arm around her, much less give her even the smallest of kisses–this is definitely out of character.

“Laurie,” I whisper to her when I can get her aside, “I’ve been trying to think of what to do to patch things up between Suzie and Dan.”

“Have you come up with any ideas?” she asks. “Right now you’re public enemy number one in Suzie’s eyes.”

“Yeah,” I reply, “I figure there’s not too much I can do about Dan, so I was thinking if Tina can become friends with Suzie then maybe that will put a wrench in any plans Dan is cooking up.”

“How do you propose to do that, girl friend?” she asks.

“What does a cheerleader like to do more than anything else?” I ask her.

“Chase guys?” she responds.

“No, silly,” I grin. “Shopping! And Dan tells me Suzie is the Queen of Shopping on the cheer squad.”

“So how do you want to work this?” she asks, “You don’t want to drag her along tomorrow do you? It’s supposed to be our special day.”

“Well,” I reply, “Actually I was thinking that, but how about Sunday? Caitlin’s working so she can’t come. We could have a girls day out at the mall across the valley.  I hear there are some pretty awesome sales for the holiday.”

“If you can get her to go, I guess it would be a good idea,” she observes. “If you two can become friends then Dan would have a hard time chasing you. I can invite Amy, Cindy and Marjorie. I need to spend more time with them too. Alright–it sounds like a good idea. See if you can get her to go.”

A little later I follow Suzie into the house when she goes to find the ladies room. I catch her as she comes out.

“Hey, Suzie,” I begin. “I hear there are some good sales this weekend, I was wondering you’d like to go with Laurie and me on Sunday. I don’t know my way around these big stores and I’m told you’re the best shopper around. I’m also told you have great fashion sense. I’m kind of a tomboy and want to learn more
about fashion.”

“Okay, girl,” she says. “You don’t have to try so hard to convince me you’re not trying to steal my boyfriend. I’m sorry about coming across like a bitch. I’ve been watching you tonight and you really are a nice girl–you haven’t once used feminine wiles on the guys. I just don’t understand what it is about you
that has all the guys chasing after you. I’ve watched the guys too and they all seem to want to be around you. I know you’re not trying to cause a ruckus. I just feel bad that Dan is acting like such a loser.”

“Suzie,” I tell her. “I really mean it when I tell you I need your help with shopping. I’m really not good at it plus I’d really like to get to know you. I think if Dan sees that you and I have become friends then he’ll have to cool it. Even the guys know girl friends share everything. He’ll leave me alone if he
knows I’ll tell you what he is up to. I’d really hate to see anyone hurt over my being here.”

“Interesting plan,” she says thoughtfully. “I like it. You know, I think you might actually be the genuinely nice girl you portray. I should keep you away from my cheerleader friends–they’d teach you about being ruthless bitches and I’d hate to spoil your innocence. Okay, Tina, I’ll go shopping with you guys. Do
you mind if I bring along a couple of other girls?”

“No problem, Suzie,” I reply, “I believe Laurie wants to bring along a couple of her friends as well so we’ll have just have a big girls’ day out.”

With that settled we arrange a time to meet at the mall on Sunday then link arms and head back out to the patio like old friends. Dan sees us laughing together and gets a worried expression on his face. I give him a little wave, then walk over to him.

Whispering in his ear I suggest, “I bet Suzie could use with a little dancing.” With that I wander off to see what Laurie is up too and tell her of our plans.  Pulling out her cell phone she calls her friends to see if they want to come. Meanwhile one of the other unattached runners asks if I’d dance with him. As the evening progressed I dance with most of the boys on the team and a couple of the guests. At first it’s very awkward, but I relax after a few dances and just have fun. Fortunately, the Sommers made sure most of the songs were fast ones. Not too much of the close romantic stuff. During the slow dances I excuse myself either to the ladies room or the snack table. Laurie got in the action as well and danced several times. I also get in some time chatting with some of the other girls there.  All in all, it is a pleasant evening.

Before it gets too late, Laurie and I excuse ourselves as we have to get going early in the morning for our trip to the City. Up in Caitlin’s room several other girls are changing out of their swimsuits as they get ready to head home. It gets a little crowded in there as everyone changes. Unlike earlier, I find I can still become a little uneasy being around naked girls, but I also find I don’t feel the urge to stare anymore either. Brain Central still has no qualms at all. The girls chat endlessly as they change. It seems
everyone has had a pretty good time at the party.

At home we take quick showers and rinse out our swimsuits before heading to bed.

“Tina,” Laurie says. “Thanks for inviting me. I had a good time tonight. Did you know Dan was making sure the other guys knew that I am Chris’s girl? He scared off more than one guy who wanted to get fresh with me. He must be a pretty good friend for him to watch after Chris’s interests like that.”

“I didn’t see that,” I admit. Maybe Dan isn’t such a sleaze ball after all. “I hope we can save his relationship with Suzie. She is more than a little put out that he can be so easily distracted by another girl.”

“Well,” she laughs, “His expression when you came out of the house arm in arm with Suzie was priceless. I’m pretty sure he thought his goose was well and truly cooked. I was happy to see him making up with Suzie later.”

“Me too,” I mention. “Maybe our plan is working already.”

“I’m sure it is,” Laurie responds thoughtfully. “You know, Tina, I have to admit you’re pretty good at handling people. I thought I’d have to teach you how to handle things as a girl, but I see I have a lot to learn from you. I wonder if it’s your guy experience that makes you so different. Whatever it is, you seem to have the golden touch when working with people.”

“I don’t know, cousin dear,” I respond, “I still have a lot to learn from you about all this girl stuff.  Thanks for helping me soooo much. I love you, girl,” I say, giving her a goodnight hug.

The big question is: do I love her as my girl friend or as my girlfriend? At this point I’m not really sure. What I do know is that I feel closer to her than ever before. It’s a good feeling.

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Standing on the platform at the train station we look like your typical pair of teenage girl friends. Both wearing shorts, similar baby doll type halter tops and comfortable walking shoes and carrying nearly emptyday packs. We definitely look like two girls poised for a day of fun in the City. It is not long before we are aboard the train and racing towards our day of togetherness. We’ve switched off the recording features on our cell phones and figure we are off the clock and can’t imagine why anyone would want to monitor us today. We hope it stays that way.

Arriving in San Francisco about the time the shops and attractions open up we have fun wandering through Fisherman’s wharf, walking the waterfront to Aquatic Park, then riding the Powell/Hyde cable car and visiting our favorite little hole-in-the-wall restaurant in Chinatown. We take each other’s picture or have a
bystander take a group shot at many of the famous sites of the City.

The restaurant, Sam Wo’s, has been around forever.  My parents–the real
ones–have told me many stories about when they used to come here as teenagers in the 70s. Apparently there used to be an obnoxious waiter back then–Edsel Ford Wong was his name–who used to tell everyone what to do and how to do it, but the kids loved him. Unfortunately the guy is long gone, but we still enjoy the food in the tiny three floor restaurant. The kitchen is on the first floor and the seating on the two above. The food comes up by dumbwaiter. It’s a cool place. Everyone should check out this place when in the City.

After lunch, we still have some time to visit the shopping district around Union Square. We start by going into some of the really expensive places such as Saks and Neiman Marcus. The sales help isn’t all that helpful since they don’t seem to think we can afford anything there, but we have fun anyway.  I fall in
love with a leather mini-skirt that looks great on me, but we both agree the $598.00 price tag was probably pushing the generosity of the Lab. I try on a couple of dresses and find a turquoise satin dress that I like for only $449.00. We passed that one up as well.  I do go a little wild and purchase an animal print underwire demi bra for only $75.00.  Of course I have to buy the matching bikini panty for only another $50.00.  I figure I have to get something at the Lab’s expense. The shoes are off the price chart as well, but we try on at least a dozen pairs each. I don’t think I’ll ever learn how to walk on high stiletto
heels.

We end up at the Gap–which is closer to our price range–where I pick up a couple of pairs of dress pants and a top suitable for work. We both got some more casual tops which are relatively modest. I also buy some low heel wedge sandals which look great with the pants. Laurie also talks me into a new shorter skirt.  She manages to find a few items for herself as well.  I find I like helping her find clothes which looked nice. I like trying them on myself. Fortunately most of the items were actually on sale. Before we were ready, it’s time to rush to the station to catch our ride home. We are each carrying full day packs and a couple of shopping bags each.

“Girl,” Laurie says, “Thanks for a great day. I had fun. How about you?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “I did. What did you like the best?”

“Shopping,” she says without hesitation. She has a huge smile plastered on her face. “How about you?”

“Being with my best friend,” I reply, giving her a quick hug.

“Yeah,” she says. “I liked that too, but what else?”

Thinking for a few minutes, I reflect on the day. I always like wandering the waterfront. Cable cars are a blast. How can you not like Sam Wo’s?

“You know,” I say reflectively, “I have to say I had a lot of fun in Saks. Trying on those expensive clothes was a hoot. Did you see the one saleswoman who positioned herself between us and the exit? I’m sure she thought that we’d grab something and run. She seem really surprised when I bought the lingerie. It was
worth the price just to see her face when I whipped out the credit card like it was nothing.”

“That was a hoot,” she agreed. “I was surprised that you hung in with me through all the shopping. Chris would never have gone for that.”

“Yeah,” I agree, “but a guy feels out of his depth in a women’s clothes store. He can’t relate to it like a girl can. He doesn’t want to relate to it. Not only that, but a guy who knows a lot about women’s clothes is viewed with suspicion by both men and women. It’s a lot more fun as a girl because you can really join the fun. I suspect Chris will never be able to enjoy shopping like Tina can, even with her memories.”

Reflecting on the day for a few minutes, I add, “Actually, if I had it to do over again, I’d have spent more time at Union Square and less time wandering the waterfront. I really did enjoy the shopping.”

“Oh no, not another shopaholic!” Laurie exclaims in mock horror. “Quick, we need to get you back to the wilderness.”

I just roll my eyes and ignore the jest.

“You know something else that was nice about today?” I ask her.

“What?” she answers.

“This is the first day this summer where I’ve really felt at ease,” I tell her. “It’s nice to have a day off from the job. I really doubt anyone was checking on us, we didn’t have to be on the lookout for anything, and I’m really starting to feel comfortable like this.” I wave my hand over my body. “It was just great to get away for most of a day and to just hang out with my best friend.”

“I really enjoyed it too, Tina,” Laurie agrees. “We should do it more often.”

Arriving at the end of the line, we find Aunt Jen waiting for us.

“Well,” she says when she sees us with our burdens. “It appears you two had a successful day. I hope you didn’t spend all your summer earnings.”

“Oh, Mom,” Laurie says in a mock whining voice, “You should have seen the $600 leather mini-skirt that Tina passed on. We did show some restraint.”

Aunt Jen raised an eyebrow, “A $600 skirt, eh? And just how much didyou spend?”

“You don’t want to know, Aunt Jen,” I tell her, “but I doubt we broke the Lab’s budget.”

“I can’t wait to see what you got,” she says with a trace of eagerness.

“She did spend $125.00 on a bra and panty set,” Laurie informs her mother.

“Restraint, eh?” Aunt Jen questions my restraint.

“Blabber mouth,” I stick my tongue out at Laurie which just causes giggling.

On the way back to the house we tell Aunt Jen all about our day and how great it felt to get away. Aunt Jen tells us she spent some time shopping and visiting with her good friend Amanda Quinn. She reassures me that the Quinns really do miss their son.

I also give Andy a quick call only to find out he’s tied up at the store and will be a few minutes later getting home than he thought.  This is good because it gives me time to put away my new acquisitions. Of course, we have to model everything for Aunt Jen.

“Tina,” Aunt Jen asks, “did you pick these clothes or did Laurie? They are all very nice.”

“Actually,” I reply, “it was more of a group decision.”

“I didn’t have to say too much, Mom,” Laurie adds. “She is developing quite a fashion sense.”

Once everything is properly cared for, I grab a quick bite in the kitchen before borrowing Aunt Jen’s bicycle to go see Andy. I decide to bring my super spy computer with me in my messenger bag since we are doing computer stuff tonight. Maybe I can leave it out to get some information for the investigation. On the ride over I feel so good about the day that I find myself humming a catchy tune and just generally feeling good.

Arriving at the Lang’s home I find it to be a moderate sized house in an older neighborhood.  There is nothing pretentious about the place. I am able to lock the bike near the front door in a location that’s not too visible from the street.

A minute or so after I ring the bell the door opens to reveal Dr. Lang–and he doesn’t look very happy once he figures out who I am.

“You’re that girl from the office,” he observes. “One of Susan Harrison’s lackeys. What are you doing here?”

It’s not quite the reception I was expecting–so much for being subtle. I must look pretty stupid standing here with a shocked expression on my face. I mean, what’s a girl supposed to say?

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Thanks once again to Gabi for her skills
in editing.

 

Something Feels Strange…

A minute or so after I ring the bell the door opens to reveal Dr. Lang–and he doesn’t look very happy once he figures out who I am.

“You’re that girl from the office,” he observes. “One of Susan Harrison’s lackeys. What are you doing here?”

It’s not quite the reception I was expecting–so much for being subtle. I must look pretty stupid standing here with a shocked expression on my face. I mean, what’s a girl supposed to say?

Chapter 29: Fireworks

While I’m trying to figure out how to deal with this unexpected twist, Andy arrives at the door.

“Hey, Tina,” he says brightly. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“You know this girl?” Dr. Lang asks his son suspiciously.

“Sure, Dad,” Andy replies, “I met her while helping her cousin with watercolors and it turns out that we have some common interest in computer stuff. I invited her come to see how I do my websites and to help with some programming. We’re going to the fireworks later.”

Turning to me he says, “Tina, this is my Dad, Dr. Lang. Dad this is Tina Jeffers. She’s down from Alaska visiting her aunt and cousin for the summer.”

“Hi, Dr. Lang,” I give him a tentative girly finger wave. It doesn’t look like he’s in the mood to shake hands. To Andy I say, “We’ve met at work.”

“Come on in, Tina,” Andy invites.  Dr. Lang stands aside and eyes me with suspicion as I scoot in the door.

“Thanks,” I reply as I step inside.  I’m not sure where to go with Dr. Lang but decide that a smile won’t hurt. “Nice to see you again, Dr. Lang.”

About this time a woman comes from somewhere in the house. She holds out her arms for a hug.

“Welcome to our home, Tina,” she says. “I’m Suzanne, Andy’s mother. You’re just as pretty as Andy says.” Just in time, I glance in his direction to see him turn a bright red. “We are just getting ready for dinner. I’ve had Andy set you a place at the table. You don’t mind joining us do you?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lang,” I reply gratefully. “I’d love to.”

“Great, Tina,” she smiles. “It’ll be just a couple of minutes until everything’s ready.”

Dinner is an extremely tense affair. Dr. Lang keeps glaring at me and Mrs. Lang is obviously displeased with her husband’s demeanor. I also feel like I’m being interviewed by Mrs. Lang. In short order, they know about my being from Alaska, my supposed reason for being in California, the fact that I like to run, and that I’m learning about computer programming. I find out that Mrs. Lang actually owns the small art store where Andy works–something that I did not know.

“Tina’s running with the kids from the high school cross country team this summer,” Andy tells his parents.

“I didn’t know that they practiced over the summer,” Mrs. Lang observed.

“Actually, they don’t–officially, that is,” I respond. “I just met one of the girls on the team and asked for advice on where to run and before you know it, we’re working out as a group in the evenings during the week. I’m used to running alone at home so at first it was strange, but now I think it’s great fun to run with my new friends.”

“Do you run races?” she asks.

“Yes,” I reply, “when I can. I ran as part of a marathon relay at home before coming to California and the high school coach here has recommended that we start running races in the region on the weekends. We’ve got one in some place called Castro Valley next weekend.”

“So, you’re interested in web site design,” Dr. Lang abruptly enters the conversation. “Are you a computer geek too?”

This last comment is the first from Dr. Lang and it comes across as an interrogation. I can sense that Mrs. Lang would like to kick him under the table for being rude to a guest. I really need to find some way to settle him down. Unfortunately his guess as to why I’m here is really pretty accurate.  I need to work on my acting ability right now.

“I don’t know about being a computer geek,” I reply as mildly as I can, “but I am really interested in how web pages work. Andy’s done some really cool stuff. I really want to see how he does it. I learned a little about database programming in school last year and think that there must be a way to use that to help him organize all the images that he has on his site.”

“Is that why they recruited you to work at the Lab?” he challenges me; “because you’re more than a pretty face and can keep an eye on the rest of us?”

“Horace!” Mrs. Lang exclaims. “I will not have you treating our guests like this. You heard her. Her aunt got her the job to keep her busy for the summer. Why are you so suspicious of everyone? We’ll talk about this later.”

Jeez, talk about uncomfortable situations: this is one of major proportions. Even Andy is squirming in his seat. For the rest of the meal, Dr. Lang keeps his mouth shut and Mrs. Lang tries to get the conversation on to more pleasant topics.

At the end of the meal, I help clear the table and offer to help with the dishes, but Mrs. Lang shoos us off to work on our project.

“I suppose you’re going to be working on the computer in your room,” she says to Andy, “Just make sure to keep your door open.”

Andy goes through several shades of pink and red as he replies, “Mo—om, we’re just friends.”

“Even so, Honey,” she admonishes him, “it’s best to avoid compromising situations.”

With that piece of advice we head upstairs to Andy’s room to see what it is he does. I bring my laptop with me, although I did manage to leave my bag and cell phone in the entry way. The recording feature is turned on–of course. I just hope that Dr. Lang isn’t so paranoid as to sweep for listening devices.

Entering Andy’s room, I notice that it is quite a bit different from your typical teen boy’s bedroom.  For one, there are no posters on the wall–just some artwork that he has done. Along one wall are a desk and a bookcase. There are also three computer monitors crowding the desk. I find that two of them go to his working computer and the other goes with his web server that stays on all the time. His room is also very neat. The bed is made, the closet door closed and his other belongings are neatly arranged.  Andy appears to be either very organized, or he is trying to impress me.

“Sorry about that,” Andy apologizes. “My dad seems pretty touchy about things at work these days. Ever since he had a run in with Mrs. Harrison a year ago, he doesn’t trust anyone connected with her. And Mom–well, she is just pleased that I’m making friends. I tend to keep to myself which concerns her.”

“I’m guessing my being a girl also has something to do with your mother’s interest,” I observe. “Mothers are just that way. Just how many girls have you hung out with before?”

“Since grade school,” he grudgingly admits, “exactly none. In fact I haven’t really had any friends since we moved here a couple of years ago.”

“I can’t believe that,” I tell him, “you seem like a pretty nice guy. But I know how things change when you move–I’m an Army Brat after all. You never know which way things will go when you get to a school. Maybe I can hook you up with some of the kids that I’ve been meeting on the running team.”

“I don’t know,” he says, “I’m just not all that interested in sports and stuff like most of the other guys. Actually I don’t mind not having friends too much.  I’ve my photography and computers which keep me pretty busy.”

“Anyway,” he changes the subject, “let me show you how to set up a web page. We’ll do a page about you and your California adventures. Kind of like a blog, but you can do so much more when you’re not tied to a particular format like Facebook or MySpace. If you’ve noticed a lot of the commercial web sites, they have all sorts of layouts and embed lots of different media and your imagination is the only limit to how you can organize and present your information.  The thing that I haven’t learned how to do is to use databases to make a site that requires logins and allows users to search and sort stuff. Mostly my pages are non-interactive.”

“I’m not doing anything interesting enough for a blog,” I say, “maybe we can do a page with showing off some of my better pictures. You know, something artsy like yours. I know a little about databases but I don’t know how to interface them with web pages yet. Maybe we can work together to figure this out.”

Over the next two hours Andy and I lose ourselves in web page development. He sets up a Tina page on one of his websites and we play around with some basic formatting. We take a couple of pictures off my computer and he works some magic with them to crop them, improve the color and lighting, add some text and drop shadows–I really think that drop shadows are cool. They add depth to the image–and make the images into links of their own. He also shows me how to use tables to organize things spatially on the page, adjust color of the background, and link to files that contain just about anything. As we go, I keep a list of the software that he uses to edit the pages and images. He also has software for editing audio and video. I want to buy the same programs for my computer. Maybe the Lab will spring for it. He points out which ones are free to download and I note them on my list so that I can download them when I have more time.

I’m so fascinated as we work through this that it’s a while before I notice how close we are to each other. He’s so engrossed in what he is doing that I’m sure that he doesn’t notice; just like a typical geek. That is, he is oblivious until his mother walks by the room and loudly clears her throat when she sees him reach around me to help me with the mouse. Looking up, he is momentarily confused, then he looks at me and blushes again as he withdraws his arm and scoots away a couple of inches. I noticed that Mrs. Lang had a slight smile on her face.

Brain Central sends a feeling of slight disappointment as Andy moves away.

Whoa! Where did that come from? Looking deep into my feelings, I try to determine if some sort of attraction is going on here. Brain Central is being evasive about giving me a straight answer to my inquiry. This is NOT a good sign. Or is it? I’m getting confused. I move away a little from Andy as I try to sort this out in my own mind.

“Sorry, about that,” Andy apologizes when he sees me draw away. “I wasn’t trying to get fresh.”

“I know,” I respond. “I guess it did look a bit intimate to your mother.”

“Yeah,” he admits, “I imagine it did. Listen, Tina, I don’t want to send the wrong signals here. I think we’re starting to get along great as friends. I’m not ready for anything romantic right now, plus romance would screw up a perfectly good friendship. You don’t mind of we keep it at being just friends?”

“That works for me,” I reply. “I could use a good guy friend right now. I get the sense that the guys that I’ve met here so far are trying to take it to another level. I’m getting more than a little tired of being a target. I’m not interested in romance either. Why is that boys and girls our age just can’t be friends like we were when we were younger?”

“I know what you mean,” he replies. “Before we moved here, I seemed to have more friends who were girls than were boys and it was no big deal–we were all part of the gang. Since I got here and started high school it seems as if boys and girls can’t interact without being labeled as an item.”

“Well,” I declare, “we can break the mold.”

“I was getting worried about your cousin,” he continues. “She was coming on a little too strong for my liking. She was making me pretty nervous. Not that she isn’t quite a catch; it’s just that I’m not ready for a girlfriend right now. In addition, I’m pretty sure that she has a boyfriend and I don’t want to get in the middle of breaking something up.”

“I guess she does come on a little strong,” I tell him, “but really she’s just trying to get some help with her art. I think that she’s trying using her feminine wiles on you. I don’t think that she’d do that if she didn’t need the help.”

“Well, you might find a way to get her to cool it a little,” he suggests. “I’d be happy to help her–as a friend. She’s a very nice girl, you know.”

With the ground rules set we return to finishing my first web page. By the time we are done, I have a web page up on his server which has a couple of images from both Alaska and California, a little text about the images and what they represent. Andy insisted on putting the image of Caitlin and I in our swimsuits at the reservoir on the page. He was impressed at the image quality coming from my cell phone. Most of the other images were scenic. Andy does a masterful job of enhancing some of my images to make them look almost professional.  He is very good with the photography and image editing.

He has also helped me complete the list of software that I need.  We did download and install a free FTP (file transfer protocol) client that will allow me to work on my web page on my laptop then upload the page to his server. All I need is the web and other editing software to keep the project going.

When the time comes to go meet Laurie at the fireworks we agree that bikes will be the best way to go since there will be cars everywhere. I get permission to leave my computer and messenger bag at Andy’s house so I don’t have to carry them around with me. Andy’s house is on the way home. Of course, the record feature is on and I’ve left it in the Lang’s living room. The adult Langs don’t seem to be that interested in the fireworks so are staying home. Mrs. Lang says that crowds make her nervous and that they can get a reasonably good view from their front porch.

What I didn’t tell them is that I could leave it in Aunt Jen’s car during the fireworks, but I figured that they didn’t need to know that. I’ll just act clueless if confronted with that fact later. After all I am the girl from out of town who doesn’t know the local drill.

It’s only a short ride to a good viewing place where we meet up with Laurie and Aunt Jen. I’m delighted to find that the Quinns are also a part of our group. Amanda and Aunt Jen have packed some snacks and drinks for us all. It’s actually more of a tailgate party since they’ve spread a blanket out and set up chairs behind their cars. There’s quite a party atmosphere.

Andy seems intimidated by the crowd, but I grab him by the hand and pull him over to meet everyone. When Dr. Quinn sees me holding hands with a boy, he raises an eyebrow and you can almost see the cogs turning in his head. He is about to go into his protective father mode as I quickly drop Andy’s hand. I’ve seen him do the protective father thing with boys that my sisters have brought home. Fortunately Amanda also sees it coming and elbows him in the ribs then whispers in his ear. I see a disappointed look come to his face as he is apparently reminded that I am not his child this summer. Unfortunately for Tiff, the same rules don’t apply when her latest interest wanders by even though she is technically an adult now.  Tiff, however, has experience with this situation, and quickly grabs the unfortunate young man’s arm and drags him off to see some of the other happenings that are going on while we wait for the fireworks, and before Dr. Quinn can get up to full steam.

Several of Marla’s friends stop by and I get introduced around. Before long, Marla excuses herself to roam with her friends, leaving Andy, Laurie and I with the adults.

“Why don’t you kids go see the sights,” Aunt Jen suggests. “Us old people will just hang out here. Come back here when the fireworks are over.”

That’s our cue to join the wandering hoards. As we roam the area, we stop off to visit with a number of groups. Laurie’s friends Amy, Cindy, and Marjorie join us at one point.

I see Dan and Suzie and we visit for a few minutes. I make sure that Andy is close by and I’m happy to see that Dan seems to be paying Suzie more attention than he did at the pool party last night. It seems that neither of them had really met Andy so I made the introduction, being sure to point out that he is my friend. Suzie gives me a wink during the introductions.

“Hey, girl friend,” she asks me, “are we still on for tomorrow? I did some checking today and there are some great sales going on. I’m pretty excited about it. A couple of my other friends are coming also. It will be great!”

The guys look confused. Apparently no one has told them about our plans.

Laurie pipes up, “Girls’ day out, guys. You know, a shopping binge? I’m sure that you’d be bored out of your minds.”

“Yeah, I’ve got something else going on,” Dan mentions. I’m sure that if he doesn’t he will soon.

Andy quietly just shrugs his shoulders. Strangely, I swear I saw a slightly wistful expression on his face for an instant. I wonder what that is all about?

Eventually we come across Caitlin and some of the girls from the running team. I don’t see her two infamous sidekicks around.

“Girl friend,” she asks after giving me a hug, “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re doing a shopping outing tomorrow? I thought that we are best friends.” She has a hurt expression on her face.

“You told me that you’re working tomorrow,” I say with a shrug. “I didn’t think that you’d be able to go.”

“Well,” she said. “When I heard about the trip from Suzie I pulled in a favor and switched shifts. I’m working in the morning but can come in the afternoon. You don’t mind me coming do you? I’ll give you a ride.”

“Sounds great,” I reply happily. Inside I cringe a little, hoping that Caitlin doesn’t plan on trying to recreate me in her image. The last thing I need is another shopping experience like I had in Alaska.

A couple of the girls from the team who are with Caitlin ask if they can join the fun. This is going to be quite the outing; maybe we should hire a bus. After a bit, cell phone numbers are exchanged and ride arrangements are made.  We all agree to meet a one o’clock by a big fountain that is located in the middle of the mall.

When I tell Caitlin of our excursion into San Francisco earlier and my new acquisitions, she asks to come over early tomorrow to pick me up so that she can see what I got.

While all this girl talk is going on–and at an extremely rapid rate it occurs to me–Andy just stands there trying to take it all in. He is definitely on the outside of this conversation. He is being very patient, however. It appears that he is studying the interactions with interest.

As the time for the fireworks draws near, we decide to head back to where the parents are. Andy excuses himself for a few minutes to go see something. Dr. Quinn takes the opportunity to casually chat with me.

“Did you find the report on Tuesday?” he asks.

“Yes,” I reply. “I took pictures of the pages and sent them on but I’ve heard nothing since.”

“Neither have I.” He ponders; “If a personnel action was to take place it would have by now. This is strange. Did you get the voice recording too?”

“I think so,” I reply. “My phone was in the break room most of the afternoon but it was cleared before I could find the time to listen to it.”

“There should have been some real juicy stuff said,” he mentions. “Either the data did not make the transfer or something fishy is going on.”

“What should we do?” I ask.

“Are you going to work at the same place this week?” he asks.

“I think so,” I reply, “Mrs. Harrison says that they’ve asked to keep me for the summer and she’s thinking about it.”

“Interesting,” he ponders. “She must think you’re getting close to something there.”

“Let’s try the same thing this week only it’ll have to be on Wednesday since the Lab is closed the first two days of the week due to the holiday,” he suggests.

“Are you thinking it’s possible the data is not getting to Mrs. Harrison?” I ask.

“It’s a good possibility,” he says. “If she’s doing her job she’d have to take immediate action to plug any known leaks. Either she’s not getting the information or she’s ignoring it for some reason. If she’s not getting the information then the leak is between you and her in the data collection stream.”

“How do I find who’s between me and her in the stream?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” he replies, “but I have some ideas. Let me work on it.”

“Okay,” I say, “I’ll look for a file on Wednesday and leave my phone in the break room as much as I can.”

“Good plan, kiddo,” Dr. Quinn says. “By the way, let’s plan on sleeping in tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I grin, “I’ll let you off the hook this week. Also, we’re going to be running races in the area on Sundays starting next weekend. We’ll have to find another time to meet.”

“Let me know when you can work me into your busy social life,” he says with a grin. “What’s going on with the boy?”

“Dad,” I whine like my sisters do when he pries into their relationships, “he’s just a friend. I’m supposed to be watching his father.”

Andy has come back so the three of us teenagers grab a place on a blanket and settle into watch the fireworks. I imagine it doesn’t hurt Andy’s public image to be seen lying on a blanket looking up at the fireworks overhead with a pretty girl on each side of him.

The temperature has dropped to about 60 degrees F under the clear skies making me wish I had more to wear than the shorts and light spaghetti strap top I have on currently. The light breeze isn’t helping either. I’m half temped to snuggle up to Andy to get warm, but I’m sure that would freak him out and I’d never hear the end of it from the rest. Fortunately there is an extra blanket which I commandeer to huddle under with Laurie. Everyone else was smart enough to bring a light coat or sweater.

I really like fireworks. The best part is lying almost directly under them and feeling the concussion as they detonate. I really get a kick out of it. This year was no exception, except that I get to squeal, clap and giggle in delight with Laurie. We are like a couple of schoolgirls. I don’t know why, but acting like a girl makes the fireworks more fun.

All too soon, they are over and the crowd erupts into spontaneous applause. This is where having a bicycle is handy. There is quite a traffic jam as everyone heads for home and the bicyclists have little trouble leaving the park.  As it is still relatively early in the evening so many of the teenagers just continue to hang out as the traffic clears, but I feel the need to get home where it is warm.

As Andy and I work our way through the traffic I encounter the Harrisons. I introduce Andy and Mrs. Harrison confirms our run for tomorrow. Ben’s ears perk up when he hears about the run and asks if he can come, but changes his mind when we tell him that we’re planning a ten miler. I notice that he’s eying Andy with some suspicion. I make sure that I stand close to Andy.

When we get to Andy’s home, the lights are on and Mrs. Lang are still out on their porch. Dr. Lang is nowhere in sight. The little bit of exercise riding the bicycle has taken care of my chill, but I still would like to get home.

“Andy,” his mother asks, “you’re not going to make Tina ride home alone are you?”

“I’m okay, Mrs. Lang,” I reassure her.

“Girls these days,” she says disapprovingly. “The world is not a safe place for young women alone in the dark. You’re a nice girl, Tina. My son should treat you with the respect that you deserve.”

Turning to her son, she says, “Andy will you get the poor girl one of your coats or a sweater that she can borrow so that she won’t freeze to death.”

“I’m really okay, Mrs. Lang,” I plead.

“Nonsense, child,” she authoritatively responds. “Now, Andy, please be a dear and bring her bag out when you come back.”

After Andy disappears, she turns to me, she says with a frown, “I’d apologize for my husband’s rudeness but there’s no excuse for it. I really don’t know what’s gotten into that man lately. I don’t know what to say, but he’ll have to apologize himself. I’m so embarrassed that he’d treat a guest like that.”

“On the other hand, Tina,” she continues. “I can’t thank you enough for coming tonight. I’ve worried about Andy for so long. It seems that he hasn’t made any friends since we moved here. He has just withdrawn into his art and computers. Thank you for being his friend. He’s seemed to come alive this week. Thank you for putting life back into him. Maybe you can get him connected with some of the other kids before you have to go home. He really needs some friends.”

“Andy’s a sweet boy,” I tell her. “I’m surprised that he doesn’t have more friends. I’ll do what I can to help him.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” she says giving me a hug, “That’s all I can ask. Come back again soon.”

Andy comes through the door with my messenger bag and a sweatshirt that is a couple of sizes too big for me, but at least it’s warm.

With some final goodbyes we are on our way.

“Tina,” Andy says as we get away from the house. “I hope that my parents haven’t scared you off. Dad’s been pretty sullen the last few years and Mom worries too much about me.”

“I really like your mom,” I tell him. “She’s very nice, but I think I need to work on my relationship with your Dad.”

“Good luck with Dad,” he sighs. “When can we get together again to work on your web site and figure out this database stuff?”

“I’m off work Monday and Tuesday,” I tell him. “I don’t know if my Aunt has anything planned but maybe we can do something one of those days.”

“I have Monday off,” he says, “how about then? I’ve been meaning to go for a hike in the hills south of town to take some scenic pictures. You could bring some of your friends with you.”

“I’ll check and get back to you on that,” I tell him.

When we get to the Mercer’s house, He stops and thanks me for the evening.

“Tina,” he says with sincerity, “This has been the most fun that I’ve had in a long time. I like working with you on computer stuff and going to the fireworks. Thank you and thank Laurie for me. Nobody’s included me in their plans for a long time.”

“I had fun too,” I tell him as we part for the night.

Getting back into the house, Laurie teases me, “What? No goodnight kiss?”

“Ha, Ha, cousin,” I tell her with a wink. “I’m saving my kisses for someone special.”

“Oh,” her eyes light up, “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Who said anything about a guy?” I reply.

After getting ready for bed, we take my computer and cell phone to my room to listen to the recordings. We lie on our stomachs in our night shirts in classic girl fashion–something I still find strange, that is, not having the male equipment to get crushed but having to lean on my elbows to keep from crushing my breasts.

The cell phone recording which was made while I was up in Andy’s room reveals some real tension between the two older Langs. Mrs. Lang really laid into the not-so-good Dr. Lang about his behavior towards their guest. Dr. Lang insisted that I was a spy sent by Susan Harrison who is trying to get him fired. She replied that he was just being paranoid and he has nothing to worry about since he did nothing wrong–obviously referring to the undefined past action against him. Things got pretty heated between the two of them; it wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t confined to discussion about me. Dr. Lang in particular wasn’t very kind towards his spouse. In fact, he was quite condescending towards her in a very sexist way. At least they kept their voices down. I got the impression that arguments are pretty common between these two.

The computer recording is much more interesting.

After Andy and I had left for the fireworks, the Langs had another argument that ended in a stalemate. This one was more brutal than the first. I got the sense that Dr. Lang was bordering on physical violence. Whatever the reason, though, Mrs. Lang left to “go for a walk”.  While she was gone, Dr. Lang made a phone call. We could only get the one side of it.

“Hello, it’s me.”

“Yeah, I know I’m not supposed to call you at home, but I have a situation on my hands.”

“I think the Harrison woman’s found a way to get a spy into my house.”

“No, I’m not just being paranoid. This little slut is from the temp pool that Harrison runs at work just showed up at my house and is hanging out with my son. She was asking about my son when she first showed up at the Lab and now she’s here. How likely do you think it is for a son like mine to pick up a girlfriend on his own? I just bet she’s been sent to look for evidence against me.”

“It’s too strange to be a coincidence. I’m sure the little whore is trouble.”

“I know, I know. I won’t say anything incriminating, but I don’t like having her around–particularly right now. Just check her out, will you.”

“Her name is Tina Jeffers. All I know about her is that she’s Mercer’s niece from Alaska and is here for the summer. Oh yeah, and she likes to run. She’s running most evenings with the local high school cross country team.”

“Okay, okay–I’ll play it cool, but if she so much as looks sideways I want you to find a way to get rid of her.”

This last comment was followed by his slamming the phone back on its cradle and some expletives attached to comments about meddling women and his perception of their role in life.

---<>---

Thanks to Gabi for polishing this chapter. I've learned a lot from her!

 

Something Feels Strange…

“Her name is Tina Jeffers. All I know about her is that she’s Mercer’s niece from Alaska and is here for the summer. Oh yeah, and she likes to run. She’s running most evenings with the local high school cross country team.”

“Okay, okay–I’ll play it cool, but if she so much as looks sideways I want you to find a way to get rid of her.”

This last comment was followed by his slamming the phone back on its cradle and some expletives attached to comments about meddling women and his perception of their role in life.

Chapter 30: Strengthening Ties

Whoa! Somebody’s not happy. Also he’s got a really low opinion of me in particular and women in general. How can a guy be so crude? I find myself feeling pretty indignant.

“The bastard,” I exclaim after we listen to the recording.

“He’s certainly got a low opinion of women, doesn’t he?” Laurie observes.

“Yes he does,” I reply emphatically.

“I think you need to watch yourself around this guy,” Laurie suggests.

“He’s a real bastard and he’s not working alone either,” I point out as I start to calm down some. “And I’m sure we can be confident he’s not working with Mrs. Harrison.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, “I don’t think they’re on each other’s Christmas card list.”

After reviewing the conversation again and ignoring his vulgar references to me, I point out, “You know, he could just be paranoid about another Human Services investigation. For all we know, he’s just talking with his lawyer. However, it does sound as if he’s got something to hide.”

“I think he’s got a lot more on his mind than a Human Services investigation,” Laurie says. “If I were you I’d be a bit worried that the stakes are higher and his comment about getting rid of you involves more than getting you transferred to another division or not allowing you to see Andy. I think the safe route here is to assume the worst and watch your backside.”

Getting past Dr. Lang’s rude comments, I decide to lighten up a bit. “The guys on the running team are watching my backside,” I say with a grin. “As a matter-of-fact I think some of them can’t seem to look anywhere else.”

Looking over my shoulder and patting myself on the butt, I say, “It’s a pretty good lookin’ backside, even if I say so myself and I should know–I’ve looked at enough of them over the years from the male perspective. In fact it looks a lot like yours and yours has always been my favorite.”

“How can you be so flippant at a time like this?” Laurie protests. It’s obvious she’s starting to freak out about all this. “You’re acting like a guy again.”

“Maybe that’s why I was recruited for this job,” I point out. “If I approach this as a guy it will misdirect the bad guys. They’ll be expecting a girl response.

“Okay,” I say getting serious again, “what do we do with these recordings? Do we let the security team have ’em or not? I doubt they’ve downloaded them yet, this being a holiday weekend and all.”

“I guess we have to let ’em have them,” Laurie says. “They know you were going to the Langs’ so they’ll expect to hear something. If we try to hide them, we’d probably get in trouble with the security team. I’ve got a big USB drive, let’s at least download a copy for ourselves just in case we need it for some reason.”

While she goes off to get her USB drive, I download the cell phone recording to my computer and think about all this. Am I really in danger, or is Dr. Lang just a paranoid sexist bastard? I don’t know. What I do know is we don’t have anything which directly proves he’s our leak. Neither has he ruled himself out.

I’m starting to think of ways to smoke out the bad guy(s) here. I almost sure the false report thing which my dad proposes has potential. I’m not ready to tell Laurie about that one yet. I just need some way to find out what’s on Dr. Lang’s mind.

After transferring the two recordings, I carefully delete the cell phone recording from my computer, including from the infamous recycle bin. I don’t want the security folks to know we’ve kept a copy.

“Tina,” Laurie says with pleading eyes, “You will be careful, won’t you? I really don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“You mean,” I reply, “any more than already has? Changing sex is a pretty big deal, you know. Anyway, I think it’s we who need to be worried. After all, we are both connected with Andy.”

“Yeah,” she says, “but you’re the one in the crosshairs right now. And you know what I mean, I don’t want you physically hurt or worse. By the way, I don’t think the sex change has hurt you all that much. In fact, we’re closer now than ever before. I’d say your wonderful personality and character seems to be blossoming more than ever so the change might be actually a good thing.”

“Yeah,” I say reflecting on this comment. “Nothing like a day of shopping in San Francisco and sharing clothes with your girlfriend to bring you closer together.”

She puts her arm around me and pulls me into a hug. “By the way, thanks for a great day, Tina. It’s been one of the best days of my life. I feel soooo close to you.”

“I really enjoyed it too,” I respond returning the hug but with a sudden yawn, “You know, though, it’s been a long day and we have another shopping adventure tomorrow. And I love you too, but it’s time for bed.”

---<>---

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning and I’m out on the front lawn doing some stretches while waiting for Mrs. Harrison to show up for our run. I notice the curtains move in the house across the street. I suspect it’s the two teen boys who live there. Being out in short running shorts and a jog bra I’m sure I’m giving them lots of reason to be up early on a Sunday morning. One of them peaks through the curtain again and I give him a wave and a big smile. The curtains close quickly. Was I that obvious when I ogled girls when I was a guy? Probably. I decide I’ll have to be more discreet when I get the hormones back to drive the desire. I guess if I want to ogle a pretty girl now, all I have to do is go back inside and stand in front of a mirror.

Mrs. Harrison arrives right on time for our little run/accountability meeting.

“I hear you had a date last night,” she opens the conversation–my, word gets around fast.

“It wasn’t a date,” I defend. “We were just working on a project together then went to see the fireworks. How did you know?”

“Ben came home from the fireworks somewhat deflated last night,” she says. “I think he’s trying to get up the nerve to ask you out and he was disappointed to see someone beat him to the punch.”

“Well,” I remind her, “it’s in my assignment to infiltrate the Lang household. What better way to do it than hang out with their son?”

“You’re right, Tina,” she admits, “but I thought Laurie was going to do that.”

“She tried,” I reply, “but she was scaring him off. For some reason he finds it easier to be around me. I like him too–as a friend. He’s a bright kid who doesn’t seem to have a mean bone in his body.”

“So tell me about your evening,” she requests with a touch of anticipation.

I’m not sure if she wants to find out for work or social reasons, so I tell her about the cool reception I received from Dr. Lang and how Mrs. Lang was very nice. I also tell her about the time Andy and I spent on learning web design and my need for some software. I explain about the two recordings I made and how Laurie and I had listened to them.  What I didn’t tell her was about my short meeting with Dr. Quinn and our little plan to send false data again.

“So what exactly was Dr. Lang accused of?” I ask. “I’m trying to sort out what he is so paranoid about. I don’t want to be doing anything which will set him off so I need to know what he is watching for.”

“I really shouldn’t discuss personnel actions with you,” she replies, “but it seems you have a vested interest in this one. You better not tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.”

She proceeds to tell me that Dr. Lang has always been difficult to work with. He seems to be particularly hard on his female associates and support staff, treating them as little more than servants. He appears to think that women have little use in the workplace beyond secretarial staff and even those he treats with contempt. While the Human Services department had heard multiple grumblings about him, there was nothing they could hold him to. The general opinion from his coworkers was that he should at least have to go through sensitivity training. Finally one of his young female colleagues filed a harassment complaint against him. She claimed he systematically deprived her of the opportunity to do her job and advance within the organization because she was female. When she first came in with the complaint an attempt was made to set up a sting type operation so they could document specific incidents. When they failed to get judicial approval for using recordings and wiretaps, the woman backed out of the operation but still filed her complaint. The ensuing investigation degenerated into a he said/she said brawl and nothing was accomplished–particularly when the lawyers got involved. In frustration the woman eventually took another job at another installation to get away from the situation but she left quietly and didn’t tell her colleagues she was leaving until after she was gone. This fed the rumor mill that she’d been let go by the Lab. Unfortunately, since personnel actions are not public, the Human Services department has been unable to do anything to counter the rumor. It’s pretty clear Mrs. Harrison still views Dr. Lang as unfinished business.

“So why is he on your short list for spy-of-the-month?” I ask.

“You ask too many questions, you know,” she replies with a smile, “You’re a pretty bright girl and I can understand your frustration at not knowing everything, however, it really is true that giving you too much information puts you in more danger if something goes wrong. Your job is to collect the data and let the security team sort out the connections. In reality, you shouldn’t have listened to those recordings. We’ll protect you if we perceive you’re in any danger.”

What do I say to that? I don’t really want her to know I don’t completely trust her or her team yet.

“Yeah,” I reply, “but I didn’t sign on to settle scores with difficult employees either. I’d like to know there’s more than unfinished personnel actions involved here. If I know why you suspect him then I’ll know what to look for. The same goes for Dr. Sommers.”

She thinks about this for a few minutes then suggests, “We’ve only got a mile to go to your house, so let’s just walk the rest of the way and we’ll talk some more.”

We agree to slow to a walking pace. While we’ve only been running at a comfortable conversational pace, we’re both a bit wet with perspiration as the air temperature begins to climb.

“The main reason these two scientists are on our list,” she begins after looking around to make sure no one is within hearing distance, “is that both are from programs whose secrets have surfaced in terrorist installations and both have connections with people in the regions where these groups operate. They both have access to the information getting out of their respective groups and they have the means to transmit it. What we’re hoping you’ll find is a motive at the very least and actual documented evidence at best. It’d also be nice if you found proof that neither is a leak so we can narrow down the pool of candidates.”

So, Dr. Lang has a connection which I don’t know about. There’s something to look for.

“Some of the committee are starting to despair of any success in this operation as you’ve yet to have produce anything suspicious. I’ve told them to be patient as these things take time. These new recordings are the first real breakthroughs you’ve brought us and will help the impatient committee members feel better about the operation.”

Bingo! She must not have seen my mid-week transmission.  I wonder about that. Maybe she’s just covering up. If she is, she’s a good actress.

“If the recording is as you say,” she continues, “then maybe we’ll have something to work with. I can’t wait to hear it.”

“What about the surveys and other things which have been gleaned from our listening devices,” I ask hoping she’ll reveal something, “has there been anything useful there?”

“Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary I’m told,” she says, “but then again, I don’t actually see those.”

“I thought all that went through you,” I tell her.

“Actually,” she says, “the committee decides what information is currently needed and a member puts the survey together, emails it to you and then receives what you send back. The committee gets a summary report as significant data comes in. There are many parts to this operation and there isn't time for each of us to filter through all the raw data. We’ve two very experienced data analysts on the committee who take care of that for us. They are supposed to verify each other’s work. You know, Tina, I’ve told you a lot more than I should have. Please keep this to yourself. I really, really, hope nothing happens to you put a position to divulge this information.”

Okay, I’m thinking, so who are these committee members who filter everything? This is might be the leak. I doubt she’s going to reveal the names of committee members so decide to let it drop for now.  Maybe I can get it out of Aunt Jen. We walk in silence for a few minutes.

“So,” she asks changing the subject, “how do you find womanhood?”

This seems to be a favorite question from those who know about my transformation. I guess everyone is interested, in some degree, to what it’s like on the other side and to be with someone who’s had the opportunity must get their attention.

I shrug my shoulders and say, “It’s okay I guess. I don’t care much for periods.”

“None of us do,” she laughs.

“I’m having a hard time being the chased instead of the one doing the chasing,” I tell her. “I’ve never had any girls chase after me before so it is a new experience for me to be pursued by anyone. Guys are harder to get rid of than fleas. I feel like I’m on display all the time. Heck, just this morning the two boys across the street were ogling me as I was doing my stretches. Another thing which bothers me is boys seeming to have a hard time being ‘just friends’ with a girl.  I miss the simple camaraderie experienced by boys who are friends. I get the feeling it’s not possible to have that kind of relationship with guys when you’re a girl and the friendships girls have with each other are just different than boys have with each other.”

“On the plus side,” I continue, “I find I really enjoy the company of girls much more. Most of the ones I’ve been around seem to be more open than guys are. I find it easier to get close to them emotionally now I’m one. For example Caitlin has become a close friend in way which would never happen if I were still male. Also, I find I actually enjoy trying to figure out what to wear, how to style my hair, and select the right makeup. Girls get more opportunity to be creative. Laurie and I went shopping in the City yesterday and I really enjoyed it. I mean I really enjoyed it. I don’t think it is was just the shopping which was enjoyable, but doing it with someone who I’m close to and have a lot in common with. Also, it’s fun to be silly and goofy when nobody cares.”

“Will you want to go back to being male when the time comes?” she asks.

“Sure,” I reply, “but I can guarantee you I’ll see the world differently. I have to admit I’m enjoying my girl time and there are things I’ll miss about being a girl, but in many ways it will be good to be back to what I was born to be.”

“Well,” she says as she puts her arm around me and gives me a squeeze, “whichever way you are, there seem to be a lot of people who think that you’re special regardless of what sex you are.  For one, getting back to business, the Director of the Ignition Facility thinks you’re pretty efficient. He told me you are underutilized as a temp office worker and he wants to keep you for the summer. It seems he has a couple of projects he thinks you can handle nicely for the group. Nothing technical, but more than answering the phones and making copies.”

“Oh,” I interject, “don’t forget making the coffee. That’s my most technically challenging responsibility you know.”

She laughs, “Your new responsibilities will get you more into the lives and offices of the people there. It will be good for the investigation but we were thinking of sending you to another place which we are concerned about. Are you ready for more office responsibility?”

“Answering phones and making coffee is getting old,” I reply.

“This won’t be rocket science either,” she says, “but it will involve more initiative on your part.”

“Well count me in,” I tell her with a smile.

“Great,” she says. “I’ll make the arrangements. Now, about running. Ben showed me the packet from Coach Arnold. Are you planning on running these races?”

“Yes,” I tell her. “It sounds like fun and gives some focus to the training we’re doing as a team.”

“It’ll get in the way of our Sunday morning chats,” she observes. “I’m thinking I’ll volunteer to help with the transportation and even run the races myself.”

“Maybe you can be the unofficial girls coach,” I suggest. “Of course you’ll have to run intervals with us.”

“I think I’ll skip the intervals,” she grins, “I’m sure we can find another time to visit about work, after all I am the boss and can call you in for an interview any time I want. Remember you can always get a hold of me whenever you need me too. Day or night. My cell number is a speed dial on your phone.”

I remind her about my need for the software to do my work with Andy. She asks me to send her an email with the details and she’d see about getting it for me or I can just pick it up and get reimbursed later.

As we reach the house she gives me another hug then heads off to her home.

---<>----

Laurie and her mother are busy working at house cleaning so I offer to help but am banished to the shower to become more presentable first.

Later, after Laurie has already left with Amy and Co., I do my weekly check of Chris’s email. There are several from family and another from Dan. I send a fictitious camp update to all. Dan gives me a Tina update along with a picture of her/me at the pool party. I don’t remember it being taken, but I look pretty sexy in my swimsuit sitting in a lounge chair next to a chair in which Suzie is sitting. We look like the best of friends. Fortunately Dan is being cautious about his Tina infatuation. It’s apparent he doesn’t know quite how to handle the situation now that Tina and Suzie appear to be good friends.

I’ve continued to get emails from Joey in Alaska. I’ve added him to my Sunday update list.  I told him about the great fireworks display and how the boy I went with was kind enough to help me with some web page development. I sent him the link to my web page with promises to update it regularly. That’s going to be tricky since he thinks I’m from California and the folks down here think I’m from Alaska.

The Major, Mom Polly, and Helen have also sent email this week which I haven’t acknowledged so I send each of them one in reply. I tell Helen and Mom Polly about my first ‘date’. I think they’ll get a kick out of it. I add a picture of me, Laurie and Andy taken at the fireworks. I decide I need to ask the Major a few questions but don’t think email is the way to go. I  think I want to bounce a few ideas off him, but I need to find a phone which the committee can’t trace in order to do it.

Thinking more about calling Alaska, I realize I haven’t kept in touch with my ‘family’ like a good daughter would so I pick up my cell phone and give them a call. After all, if some bad guy is checking my phone log they’d expect to see some calls home.

The Major and Mom Polly seem really happy to hear from me. Keeping in mind this is not a secure phone, I avoid discussing any of my work related concerns. The Major inquires about my work in general terms and I tell him things are going well, but I may want some advice later as my responsibilities may be changing.  Mom Polly wants to know all about my ‘date’. I figure while I’m at it, I’ll tell her about the running team and the boys I seem to be attracting.  She thinks it all sounds like fun and gives me some motherly advice on dealing with boys. Before I know it we’ve been on the phone for almost an hour; we might have talked longer if Aunt Jen hadn’t come in to tell me Caitlin was here to pick me up. Mom Polly really seems to enjoy having a daughter. She asks me to call her later to tell her about the shopping trip. I really enjoyed talking with her and resolve to keep in touch with her more. Too bad I can’t do this with my real mother right now. I’m sure we’d have some great conversations, but then again, my mom is used to having daughters around.

---<>---

Caitlin is running late so we put off the promised fashion show of my San Francisco purchases until after our current shopping adventure. Climbing into Caitlin’s car I notice her two sidekicks, Jamie and Ilana are with her. Neither seem too happy to see me. Another good reason to put off the fashion show.

“Good morning, girls,” I say as brightly as I can.

A noncommittal “Hi” is all I get back from the bitchy duo.

“Hey, girl friend,” Caitlin greets me brightly, “Are we ready to shop or what? I can hardly wait to help you update your image.”

Oh no, I’m doomed. This could be Alaska all over again.

“So, what’s the plan?” she continues.

“Well,” I reply, “We’re supposed to meet up with Laurie and her friends as well as Suzie and her friends, and some of the other girls from the running team at one o’clock in the center court of the mall and then go from there.”

The ride to the mall is a tense affair. Caitlin’s two sidekicks aren’t in a good mood. I try to make happy small talk with them but don’t get much in response–I suspect they’re having security problems. They can probably feel the gulf opening between them and their friend and view me as the source of the problem. I wonder if there is a way to get them to change as well.

As we approach the center court of the mall, it looks as if a small convention of girls has assembled. Laurie and her friends are there as well as a couple of other runners plus Suzie and what looks like the whole cheer squad. There must be a couple dozen teen girls assembled. Any wise teen boy would avoid such an assemblage. Have you ever try to break into an assembled mass of girls?  It’s pretty intimidating but, now I’m one of them, things are different.

“There she is,” exclaims Suzie as she catches sight of our little group.

I’m introduced to the group, most of whom I already know from my previous life. A couple of the cheerleaders look at the Jamie and Ilana with a touch of distain because both are looking almost slutty today. Maybe we should work on doing a makeover on their wardrobes instead of mine.

“So,” one of the cheerleaders says as she looks me up and down, “you’re the famous Tina. I’ve been hearing a lot about you.”

“Me too,” says another. “It’s like, Tina this and Tina that from just about everyone.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Maybe not,” another replies, “but you’ve made quite the splash since you’ve arrived.”

For the life of me, I can’t think of anything I’ve done which would garner such attention.

Fortunately, the conversation drifts away from my popularity and to the main focus of the afternoon–shopping. It’s also fortunate this trip is not all about me. Most of the other girls are pretty excited about looking for something new for themselves. 

It seems every girl in the gaggle seems to have some definite opinion about my personality and what I need to do to update my wardrobe to enhance it. Unfortunately they don’t all agree, but we do agree to share any real finds with each other which we think might be of interest.

Our first stop is Macy’s Women’s at one end of the mall and, through the afternoon, we work our way through the mall, on both levels, to JCPenny at the other end. I spend most of the afternoon in dressing rooms as the girls bring me an endless stream of things to try on.  Each ensemble is thoroughly evaluated by whichever set of the girls who happen to be in the area at the time. I get to help critique some of the outfits tried on by the other girls as well. As the day wears on, I’m starting to get a better sense of the intricacies of teen girl fashion. I learn a lot about which tops go with which bottoms–both pants and skirts–as well as which occasions warrant which types of clothes. I’m also starting to get a feel for the accessories to complete a look. There’s a real art behind choosing the right clothes and accessories and I get instruction from some of the best experts from my school. Even Caitlin–who views herself as somewhat of a fashion guru–is learning from the experience and ends up with a few items which are substantially less slutty–but still trendy–than she normally wears. In the end, I have surprisingly few items for all the effort but I now have a much greater ability to choose my own fashions. 

Over the course of the afternoon, each of the girls tries to learn more about me. They want to know the movies I like, what music I listen to, what it’s like to live in the dark frozen north, if I have a boyfriend at home, and more. I try to take an active interest in each of them as well, asking them many of the same questions they are asking me.

Most of the cheerleaders have, or have had, boyfriends. Many of the guys are discussed in minute detail. Several of the girls are no longer virgins and they don’t seem shy about sharing their exploits. And I thought guys were bad about discussing their conquests–silly me–the girls are a lot more open and frank. Several of us blush pretty hard during these discussions which quickly labels us as being the virgins of the group. There is also a lot of discussion about what makes for a good boyfriend. There is not total agreement on the subject, but being tall, strong, and gentle seem to be high on the list of qualities for a good boyfriend. When it comes to sex there is general agreement amongst the experienced girls that bigger is better in the male equipment department.

One thing that seems strange to me, is that I’m finding Brain Central paying pretty close attention to all this discussion. Even the part about the boys. At one point, when one of the girls is describing one of her trysts in embarrassingly explicit detail, I find myself strangely fascinated–dare I say even maybe slightly aroused? The sensations I’m experiencing are definitely feeling strange though oddly familiar. What would it be like to experience sex as a female? Not that I’ve ever experienced more than self stimulation as a guy, sex as a male has always been something I’ve taken as an eventuality. Heck, I still do–even though lacking the proper equipment has made the visualization harder to relate to as time progresses. But what about sex as a girl? I have the equipment now to find out–and I find it responds to the visualization quite well–but I’m not any more prepared for sex now as a girl than I was a few weeks ago as a boy. I’m resolved that sex is just one female experience I’m NOT going to have this summer. Especially now that I’m a girl, I just can’t get past the thought that casual sex brings on more problems than the pleasure is worth. Still, the idea is intriguing–from an academic stand point. My limited experience with the erotic zones of my new body would indicate it might actually be more than slightly pleasurable. It certainly seems so from what these girls are saying.

Laurie notices my attention to the stories. She elbows me in the ribs and gives me a concerned look.  A short while later, she pulls me aside from the group.

“You’re not thinking of giving up your virginity, are you?” she questions me.

“No,” I reply hastily, “It’s just I’ve never really thought about what sex must be like from a girl’s point of view. After listening to these girls it sounds more interesting than I would have thought. I was just thinking it’s one female experience I’m not going to have.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she says with obvious relief. “I was afraid that maybe your morals were starting to change.”

“Don’t you ever think of sex and what it’ll be like?” I ask her.

Before she gets a chance to answer me one of the runner girls calls to us, “Hey, girls. Are you coming or not?” as the group starts to move to another department. I can tell by the blush that Laurie and I are due for a girl-to-girl chat about boys and the facts of life.

As we move to yet another store, I find myself looking at the guys around us in a whole new way. I’m trying to work out what the other girls see in them. A lot of the boys hanging out at the mall have the low rider baggy pants with hooded sweatshirt look–most look pretty scruffy. I never liked the look when I was a guy and I find I don’t like it as a girl: I’ve always classified guys who dress that way as losers. I suspect if you want to find an athletic guy on a Sunday afternoon, the mall is not the place to do it. The other girls seem to agree with me on that one when I mention my observation.

My favorite shop of the day ends up being the Lady Foot Locker.  The cheerleaders and runners like it too. The shop has a surprisingly good selection of casual clothes in addition to all their athletic stuff.  While we’re there, Caitlin talks with the staff about ordering team shirts for our new running ‘team’. The options presented cost way more than regular T-shirts would cost. I suspect she’ll have a hard sell getting her Dad on board with this order, plus we’d have to find something different for the guys.

One of my goals for the day is to get a pay-as-you-go cell phone for making calls I don’t want the security team to know about. I need to do it when no one is looking. The only problem with my plan is there are always half a dozen or more girls around when I try to go find one.  I try excusing myself to go to the restroom, but four of them decide it sounds like fun and join me. After a while I just give up, realizing getting a new cell phone is not going to happen today.

Late in the afternoon, we stop by the food court and each descends on our preferred food provider–I observe Caitlin keeping clear of McDonalds as if it is diseased. I suspect she’ll never go to one again willingly. She really hates her job.

Around six o’clock girls start leaving the group for other activities. I make sure to give each a hug and thank them for helping me. Jamie and Ilana are two of the first to leave, having found alternative transportation; I don’t think they really connected with any of the other girls. It’s a shame they can’t let go of their bitchy ways.

Eventually Amy drags Laurie off to spend the evening at her house. When Caitlin takes me home she comes in for the promised fashion show.

“Caitlin,” I ask as I sort through my new purchases and she goes through my closet, “why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“I wonder sometimes,” she replies holding up the dress I bought on my Alaska shopping spree. “This dress looks pretty nice for a tomboy to own. Will you model it for me?” she asks before continuing. I take the dress from her and start to disrobe.

“I’ve met a couple of boys who have made me melt on sight,” she continues, “but none of them seem to notice me at all. I try to look nice and all, but it never seems to work. The guys I’ve dated seem more interested in getting me out of my panties and onto their thing, rather than being interested in me as a person. I’ve had to walk away from a few dates and have my Mom come rescue me. It’s sooo embarrassing.”

Wearing nothing by my panties, I pull a strapless pushup bra from my underwear drawer and deftly put it on.

“You should probably wear a thong with this dress,” she observes.

As I’m changing my panties for the thong she continues.

“It’s hard to find a dreamy guy who isn’t only interested in sex. I think most guys will go out with just about any girl who will spread her legs. They don’t care what she looks like; they just want to get between a pair of female legs.”

I think she’s over reacting a bit as I pull on the dress. She must have had some really negative experiences. I know I wasn’t that way when I was a boy. “Aren’t there any guys around here who are decent?” I ask.

“Wow, girl! That’s one hot dress. You’re going to have to find a reason to wear it around here. Where are the shoes you wore with it?” she asks. “Yeah, there are a few cool guys around but they’re very hard to attract.”

I pull the shoes out of the closet and ask, “So who d’you think the greatest catch in your class is? Maybe I can help you snag him.”

She pauses in thought for a minute. She’s obviously struggling with what she wants to say. “You have to promise me you won’t tell ANYONE this,” Caitlin says emphatically. “I’m only telling you this because you’re my best friend and I know I can trust you.”

“You can trust me,” I tell her with sincerity, “after all I’ll be gone in a couple of months.”

“Okay,” she leans close and whispers. “But you can’t tell anyone–especially your cousin. I’d just die if she found out. If I could pick any guy to be my boyfriend,” she pauses and looks furtively around, “it would be Chris Quinn. God, I get wet every time I even think of that boy.”

---<>---

I’m afraid that it is time for another real life break.  Sorry! I had hoped to get further than I did this summer. Never fear, though, there are a lot more adventures already mapped out for our heroine/hero. The big questions that seem to be bothering everyone need to be answered, and they will be.

What form will the Laurie/Tina/Chris relationship take at the end of the summer?
How will Tina disappear at the end of the summer?
Just who are the bad guys, if indeed there are bad guys?
and more…

Tina will be back around Christmas… but will Chris ever be?

Thanks again to Gabi for all her assistance with editing.

Thanks to all you readers who have fueled the fire with your comments.

See ya’ in a few months with more.

-          Tiff Q

 

 

 

I pull the shoes out of the closet and ask, “So who d’you think the greatest catch in your class is? Maybe I can help you snag him.”

She pauses in thought for a minute. She’s obviously struggling with what she wants to say. “You have to promise me you won’t tell ANYONE this,” Caitlin says emphatically. “I’m only telling you this because you’re my best friend and I know I can trust you.”

“You can trust me,” I tell her with sincerity, “after all I’ll be gone in a couple of months.”

“Okay,” she leans close and whispers. “But you can’t tell anyone–especially your cousin. I’d just die if she found out. If I could pick any guy to be my boyfriend,” she pauses and looks furtively around, “it would be Chris Quinn. God, I get wet every time I even think of that boy.”

Chapter 31: Revelations and Spy Lessons

“CHRIS!” I exclaim.

“Keep it down, girl,” she whispers urgently. “Your aunt might hear you.”

My mind is having a very hard time getting around this new revelation. Who would have thought?  A quick review of the past doesn’t bring to mind even the slightest of indications that Caitlin has been interested in me as Chris. Obviously I missed something.

“But,” I whisper back with emphasis, “Chris is Laurie’s boyfriend. Does he know you’re interested in him?

“I know,” she sighs, “In my opinion Laurie’s the luckiest girl in the school and, no, I don’t think that Chris has a clue–though I’ve done everything but throw myself at him to get his attention. I swear, that boy is so oblivious it’s frustrating.”

I have to admit that Caitlin never made my radar as a romantic interest, but what does she mean that she’s been trying to get my attention? I don’t understand that statement at all.

“I’ve had a crush on Chris since Middle School,” she continues. “It’s not like he’s a real hunk or anything, but he has this wonderful purity about him. He’s nice to everyone–kinda’ like you–and good at everything he does. He is good looking too, in a geeky kind of way. The girl that gets him for good will be very lucky. I just wish it was me. In a way I’m glad that you’ll be gone this fall. I suspect that he’d go for you in a heartbeat if he met you.”

I’m still baffled by her claim to have tried to get Chris’s attention. I suspect it is this strange notion that girls seem to have that they need to act disinterested to get someone to notice them.

“What’ve you done to get his attention?” I ask with curiosity.

“Oh just about everything in the book,” she says in frustration. “I started taking classes that he was in. I even played dumb a few times to get him to help me with my assignments. I’ve also tried to dress in a way that would get any boy’s attention and I’ve gotten every boy’s attention EXCEPT his–most of them I’ve had to beat off with a baseball bat. Heck, the only reason that I joined the running teams in the first place was to get his interest. And I’m not the only one–several of the other girls are only there because of Chris. I guess I’m hoping that all this extra running this summer will put me in good enough shape that he’ll finally take notice of me.”

I think I must’ve touched a nerve here.  The dam has broken and she is letting it all out.

“Do you know what’s really so frustrating?” she continues. “Your cousin. Don’t get me wrong, I like Laurie a lot, but you know, she just waltzes in and before you know it the two of them are an item. You should see the way they are when they’re together. He treats her like a real person, with kindness and respect. I really wish I was the girl getting that kind of attention.”

“You know,” she continues, “I’ve given up a few times and dated other guys but they all fall short. I did meet one guy when we were in Mazatlan last Christmas break who swept me away for a few days. In the end he was just a smoother operator than the other jerks. I was such a fool to fall for his charms.”

I really like Caitlin as a girl friend but I really don’t see her as a romantic interest for Chris. Unfortunately for her, she has some real issues. Part of me wants to know the details of her Mazatlan romance but I don’t want to pry.

“Surely there are other guys like Chris around,” I suggest.

“Not that I’ve seen,” she responds with another sigh, “And believe me, I’ve looked. Anyway, I’m not sure what to do, but I am patient.”  Looking back at me standing in front of the mirror, she says, “You do look pretty hot in that dress. It is out of character from the rest of your other outfits–which, in my humble opinion, is a good thing. A nice pair of chandelier earrings, your hair let down, and the right makeup and you could have any guy around. It is kinda’ fun to watch them drool, isn’t it?”

We spend another hour going through my growing collection of clothes and sharing life stories. Actually, she shares most of the stories as mine aren’t really girl stories. I do alter some of my past experiences to appear like girl perspective stories but let her ramble on carrying most of the conversation. I show her some pictures from Alaska and my family there. Eventually she has to leave as she has an early shift at McDonald’s in the morning. We agree to get together again after tomorrow’s running practice as we hug goodbye when she leaves.

---<>---

Aunt Jen is hanging out in the living room reading a book and listening to old music when I return from seeing Caitlin off. I decide that it’s time to be sociable with her so I flop myself down on a couch.

Looking up from her book she says, “Hey, Tina. Aren’t you a bit over dressed?”

I’m wearing a new dress that I picked up today–it’s shorter than I would have picked on my own and I’m not sitting very lady like either. To tell you the truth, I’d forgotten how I was dressed. Getting a bit self conscious, I sit up in a more lady-like fashion, crossing my legs.

“That’s better, darling,” she observes. “How’s your day been? It certainly seems that you keep a pretty full social calendar.”

“I’ve never been so busy in my life,” I respond. “I’m thinking that I need a social secretary. But, you know, it has mostly been pretty fun. I don’t think that I would have done half this stuff if it wasn’t for the job but I am really glad that I am. It’s been fun making new friends and finding out what it’s like to be a girl.”

“You certainly seem to be handling being a girl quite well,” she observes. “In fact I’m actually surprised at how easily you’ve taken to it. I don’t think that it’s the process as it’s not supposed to mess with your personality. I guess the psych report was right when it said you are pretty neutral as far as sexuality goes. I just didn’t really believe it. I don’t think that most people could handle an unexpected sex change as easily as you have–I know that I couldn’t.”

“That first week was pretty tough,” I point out, “but knowing that it is only for a few months helps a lot. So does keeping busy.”

Changing the subject, I ask, “So how am I doing as far as the security team is concerned?”

“Well,” she says with caution, “I really shouldn’t say too much, but I think I can tell you the views of the committee are generally favorable though some members are getting impatient. They seem to have thought that we’d crack the case in a week with your help. You just keep doing what you’re doing, darling, and I’m sure that some good will come of it. The only complaint I’ve heard is that you’ve haven’t implemented all your instructions so far. I assume that you are working on that?”

“Yeah, well,” I hedge, “maybe. Some of the instructions don’t make much sense.”

“That’s the problem with compartmentalization,” she tells me. “Just be assured that we’ve talked it through as a committee and we know what we need from you.”

Recalling that both my computer and cell phone are back in my bedroom I decide to take a chance.

“But,” I ask, “what value is there in accessing classified information when it is where it belongs?”

She sits up straight and looks hard at me. “What do you mean?” she asks obviously very interested. “We haven’t asked you to do that.”

“We did get instructions recently to try to obtained classified information,” I tell her, “including leaving listening devices where we know that classified information is likely to be discussed. This is more than what we were told to do during our training in Alaska. If you remember, we were told then just to record what was happening around us. I guess I can handle that but I think now we’re being asked to basically plant bugs in areas where secure work is being done. I don’t feel comfortable doing that.”

“Where did these instructions come from?” Aunt Jen asks with great interest.

“They were with one of our questionnaires,” I reply.

“Hmm,” she says as she sinks into deep thought. “This is interesting. Very interesting indeed.”

“What?” I ask.

“Oh,” she waves off my question, “never mind, darling. I’m glad that we’ve had this little chat. I wonder if that is the instruction that you’re supposedly not following?” she asks herself more than me. “I take it that you haven’t complied with the instructions?”

“Not yet,” I answer honestly–well almost. Technically the plant that I did with dear sweet Dr. Quinn was only made to appear to be in compliance. I’m not ready to tell her about our little experiment. “Do you think that I should?”

“No,” she replies, “Actually I don’t.”

Aunt Jen is obviously thinking pretty hard about all this and almost seems to forget that I’m there. Eventually she arrives at some sort of decision and returns to the present.

“Darling,” she asks me, “have you talked with Susan about this?”

Taking her to mean being uncomfortable about intentionally stealing documents and recording privileged conversations I answer truthfully, “No. I assumed that the instructions were coming from her and–after all the hype in Alaska about following instructions–I don’t feel comfortable about talking to her about it. I suspect that she’ll just tell me to do as I’m told.”

“Hmm,” she says again before departing back into the land of deep thought.

Eventually she surfaces again. “Do you know if Laurie received the same instructions? I just know that you two have been comparing notes against the rules–You’re thick as thieves.”

“Yes,” I admit sheepishly. “we have and, yes, she’s received the same instructions but she hasn’t done anything yet either.”

“Hmm,” she says before mentally slipping away again.  This time much longer. If her head was transparent, I’m sure that you’d see gears turning like mad.

Judging from the frustrated expression that comes to her face as she surfaces again, she seems to reach some kind of impasse. Looking up at the clock on the mantel, she changes the subject.

“My sweet daughter should be home soon,” she states to no one in particular.

Looking over at me she takes a minute to look me over. “You know, darling. You really are a cute girl. It appears to me that you get more comfortable in the role almost every day. You have developed a confidence and maturity that seems to be beyond your years and it really brings out what a beautiful person you are. Being a girl seems to suit your personality.”

I’m not sure how to respond to her flattering observation. “I do feel a lot more comfortable in the role,” I tell her after a moment’s thought. “In fact, I’m starting to have fun being a girl.”

“By all means, darling, have fun but don’t get too comfortable,” she says with a smile. “Your mother really is looking forward to getting her son back and I’m very sure that Laurie wants her boyfriend back as well.”

“No problem there, Aunt Jen,” I assure her. “I’m curious though, do you like me better like this or as Chris?”

“That’s a tough one,” she replies. “You’re good for Laurie either way.”

“Yeah,” I press her, “but which me do you like better?”

She ponders on the question for a minute before replying, “I really don’t know. I think you’re a good kid at heart regardless of which sex you are. Of course, in your girl form you do fit better into the household. I don’t have to worry about you and Laurie getting carried away sexually and doing something that you both will regret. As a boy you’ve proven yourself trustworthy also, but I still worry that you two are developing too deep of a relationship too soon. I’m afraid that you’ll get hurt if things don’t work out between you two. Laurie will be a very lucky woman indeed if she ends up marrying you or a guy like you. In a way it’s too bad that you two met so early in life. Relationships at your time of life are more educational than real life-long relationships.

“As girl friends you’re not likely to have the problems that teen romances bring and you have proven to be a great girl friend too.  So, there are good points both ways. I guess that we’re glad to know you which ever sex you are because the real you is great regardless of the package.”

“Did you have a boyfriend at our age,” I ask. It sounds as if she is speaking from experience.

“Oh yes,” she gives a sad smile, “and I thought that we’d never part. I just couldn’t imagine life without him and he was the same way. We were sure that we’d found our life partners. He was a year ahead of me in school and when he went off to college, during the first week he was there, he met the girl that he eventually married. I quit hearing from him after a month, then got my ‘Dear Jane’ letter a month after that. He felt bad about it, but his heart was completely taken by his new love.  They do make a good couple still. We’ve stayed in touch through Christmas cards over the years. Anyway, I’ve been there, done that. So have most adults that I know and I’d like to protect two wonderful kids from the same thing, but I guess heartache is part of growing up.”

“So you think that Chris and Laurie don’t have much of a chance to make a go of it?” I ask.

“Oh, but they do,” she says, “however the odds of success are low. It’s not that there is anything wrong with either of them. It’s just that you all are just young and starting to learn about the more difficult parts of life. If you two do break up eventually, I want you to know that I think that you’re a great kid and welcome at our home anytime. I will be your friend. If you were to stay a girl, then your friendship with Laurie will just get stronger over the years as each of you find the loves that will keep you happy throughout your lives. Strong girl friend relationships add balance and perspective to a woman’s life. That can’t happen if you return to being a guy. At best you can hope to be distant friends if you don’t end up together.”

“Now,” she changes the subject again, “enough of the deep stuff.  I’m dying to see what else you got at the mall today.”

---<>---

It’s early for a holiday morning–around eight o’clock–as I pull into the parking lot at the local big box store where Marla works.  She’s not here this early, but it is open and I need a few supplies. Laurie and her mother decided to sleep in this morning but allowed me to borrow the car for this trip.  My main goal is to get another cell phone. One that nobody around here will know about.  My cover is that I need some picnic supplies for today’s hike (I had called Andy yesterday and asked if he would like me to make a lunch–of course he said yes, after all he is a guy) and to refresh some of my makeup inventory. You know, I’m pretty sure this is my first time out on my own since the change. In a way, it feels strange to be on my own–as a girl–without someone to guide and teach me.

Anyway, I make a beeline for the kiosk which sells cell phones and find the attendant just setting up shop. I’ve wrapped my everyday phone in a couple of heavy socks that I brought along and buried it deep in the large handbag I’m carrying. I don’t want anyone eavesdropping on what I’m doing. It doesn’t take me long to pick out a prepaid phone with a card that has plenty of minutes. I’m not to fussy about the phone and get something pretty inexpensive. I also got the display model which is fully charged. I can tell that the sales person is not used to a teen girl that doesn’t want a flashy color and lots of extra features. I did splurge for a blue tooth ear piece which will be covered pretty well when I let my hair down. Unfortunately, it is not charged so I can’t use it right now. I can use it with my other phone too.

As I do the rest of my shopping, I call home to Alaska on the new phone. It’s still early in the morning there and I’m pretty sure that I wakened my Alaskan ‘parents’. After spending a few minutes catching Mom Polly up yesterday’s shopping adventure I ask to speak to the Major.

“Hi, Daddy,” I say sweetly as he comes on the line.

“Uh oh,” he says, “I’m told that daughters get sweet like this when they want something.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” I play with him, “This won’t cost you much.”

“Define ‘much’,” he cautiously directs.

“Just some of your time for now,” I tell him.

“Okay, Princess,” he audibly relaxes, “I can spare some of time for my favorite daughter.”

“I think I might have a problem,” I inform him. “I have reason to think that there is a leak in the security team managing us. In fact I have a hunch that the leak is using me and Laurie to gather information for them.”

“You’re not using the cell phone the Lab gave you, are you?” he observes. “This number is not an Alaskan number.”

“No, sir,” I reply, “I’ve got the Lab’s phone wrapped up in socks in my bag so they can’t hear anything. I just purchased this pre-paid phone a few minutes ago.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re being intelligent about this,” he says. “You learn pretty fast. Just make sure that you buy lots of time for the phone and keep it charged–you don’t want to get caught short when you need it the most. Have you checked to make sure that you’re not being followed or observed?”

“Ugh, no.” I didn’t think of that one.

“Well, it’s probably too late now if you are,” He points out, “But I want you to wander all the way across the store, wending your way through the aisles. Stop every now and then and look at something on the shelves. Then move back a little the way you came looking around as if you’re lost or looking for something in particular. See who’s around you each time.  Look for any faces that seem to be around you more than once or twice or that seem to follow you around the store.  And stay on the line, we’ll talk some more while you’re doing this.”

There’s nothing quite like getting spy lessons over the phone. I start looking around as if I’m searching for something, noting faces that I see down the aisles. There are not a lot of people around this time of day: I see a few women doing their shopping patiently looking through the inventory and a couple of men shopping like–well, like men. You know, just focusing on what they came for and nothing else. There are a few roving bands of teenagers but not many this time of day. A pair of boys seem to be watching me. Is it just girl watching or something with more purpose? Grabbing a shopping cart I wander through the food aisles picking out some hiking snacks, sandwich fixings, and some fruit for the hike.

I’m pretty sure that I can trust the Major so I spend the next twenty minutes telling him why I think there is a leak in the security team that is managing my mission as I pick up some food for today’s hike. He listens carefully and asks a few questions along the way to clarify what I am telling him. I explain about the two families that I’ve connected with and my suspicion that Dr. Sommer’s is clean and the fact that Dr. Lang is a problem–but I’m not sure what type of problem yet.

“Tell me more about this Dr. Lang,” he requests. “I think that you need to watch out for him and his people until either he is cleared or you know what he is up to.”

“Yeah,” I reply, “I don’t know enough about him yet, but he does seem to have some issues. I need to find out what his connection is with people in the Middle East or Afghanistan. Laurie and I are going on a hike with Andy later today. Maybe he’ll loosen up and tell us more about his family.”

Stopping in the makeup section I am faced with a huge selection. While I know a lot more about makeup than the average guy, I don’t know nearly as much as the average girl and I’m still intimidated by all the options. “Could you put Mom back on the line?” I ask the Major. “I have a couple of questions about makeup. I doubt that’s your area of expertise.”

Sure enough he’s more than happy to give up the phone for the five minutes that I need to sort out the mess in front of me. While I’m chatting with her, I casually make note of the few women and girls shopping in this section. One pair of teen girls who I saw while over in the food section are here. There are absolutely no guys here.  A couple of the females were browsing the food section earlier but none seem to be interested in me.

My next stop is the card section, where I pick up a pack of thank-you cards. I need to send one each to Aunt Jen, Suzie, the Sommers and Mrs. Lang for their kindnesses. I also pick up a couple of friendship type cards for Laurie and Caitlin. While I do this I keep a conversation going with the Major. Staying aware of my surroundings, I don’t recognize anyone else who is looking through the cards. Glancing down the long aisle I see one of the boys who had been watching me in the food section heading slowly this direction. He’s obviously trying to look nonchalant.

I tell the Major about the boy. “Either he’s really bad at surveillance,” he says, “or he is your typical awkward boy taken with a pretty girl. Keep an eye out for him and his friend.”

As we continue our discussion, I begin to wander towards the outdoor and camping section–I need to pick up a new pocket knife. I tell him about the little experiment that my real dad and I set up and our plans for another one. I also give him details of my conversations with Mrs. Harrison and Aunt Jen.

“I’m not sure what to make of Mrs. Harrison,” I tell him. “A lot of people don’t like her, but she is pretty good to me. She seems to take her job seriously and I can see how the bearer of bad news could be viewed with suspicion. I want to think that she’s one of the good guys.”

I stop to look at some placemats as I pass through the house goods section. Back tracking a little to look at some kitchen tools that I had passed, I notice a few people around, including the teen boys that I had seen earlier. They are glancing my way and whispering to each other. I’m starting to suspect that their surveillance is driven more by hormones than anything else. I’m wearing my now favorite outdoor pants and top that I got at REI in Alaska and have my hair clipped back in a simple style that I saw in the latest issue of Seventeen. While I think that I look pretty nice–in an outdoorsy way–I wouldn’t think that I stand out or anything.

“The boys are still following me,” I tell him, “but they are being more obvious than they think they are.”

“I suspect that they’re just feeling the effects of their hormones,” he says, “but still be wary.  Also, don’t let them distract you. Keep your eyes open for others.”

Returning our conversation he says, “I think that your continued experiment with your father will help sort out your concerns regarding Susan. If no action is taken and she still claims to not know about it when you talk to her again, then tell her what you’ve done without mentioning your father.  I’d expect her to try and get to the bottom of it if she is one of the good guys. That should shake things up in the committee and you may just see some fallout from it. If that happens then, I suspect that you can trust her.”

“What about Aunt Jen?” I ask him. “How far should I trust her?”

There is pause for a few seconds, “Sorry about that,” he says, “I needed to get somewhere more private to answer that question.”

Answering my question he says, “Jen is a great gal. Both she and Polly came from a home a lot like what yours sounds like. A place where integrity is highly valued.  That is one of the things that attracted me to Polly in the first place.”

“I would have thought that her good looks attracted you in the first place,” I interject.

“Oh, they did,” he says, obviously smiling–you can hear it in his voice. “She’s good looking, but looks only draw a person in. It’s one’s character that keeps a relationship together. Both Polly and Jen are beautiful people as well as beautiful women. It’s a great combination.”

About this time, I arrive in the outdoor section with my two followers in tow. They look like they’re ready to make a move as they nervously approach the display case where I am looking at pocket knives.

As they get within hearing range I say “Thanks for the advice Daddy, can I call you back after I make my selection if I have questions?”

“They’re moving in aren’t they?” the Major asks.

“Yes Daddy,” I reply, “I’ll be home soon.”

“Call me back,” he says, “I’ll be waiting. Bye, Princess.” With that I disconnect.

As I’m leaning over the display case looking at the variety of knives I hear the boys whispering to each other;  “Go talk to her.”

“No, you do it.”

“You’re the one that needs the date to the country club dance, not me.”

“Oh, alright. I just know she’ll just tell me to get lost like the last one. She’s a lot prettier than Janice and I bet she already has a boyfriend.”

“Janice is your cousin. Just get over there and be your charming self.”

Yep, I think to myself, a combination of hormones and desperation. This is getting old. I’ll try to refuse him gently.

I feel a presence by me as I continue looking over the knives.

“What’s a pretty girl like you need with a knife?” he asks as smoothly as he can.  The slight tremor in his voice belies his nervousness.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I say like a ditz then point to a skinning sheath knife in the display case. “Like, you never know when you’ll need to skin at polecat, like, don’t you agree?”

Hearing a loud snort, I turn to see the guy’s friend doing a poor job of trying not to laugh out loud.  In the mean time, the guy next to me turns white as a sheet and looks about to bolt. Okay, so that wasn’t the nicest approach. I figure that I need to make up for it.

“Hi,” I smile at him, “My name is Tina.” Not seeing any real motion, I ask, “what’s yours?”

He stares at me for a second as his thought processes reboot, “I’m Jim,” he says.

“Actually, Jim,” I say as sweetly as possible like an innocent waif–this girl thing is kinda’ fun, “I’m going for hike with my hunky boyfriend later today and I lost my pocket knife. I feel so much better when I have one with me, you know? Do you have any suggestions on a multipurpose knife that I can get that’s not too big?”

Looking in his eyes, I can see that his worst fears have been realized, but Jim and his friend do take a few minutes to educate the poor girl about knives before taking off. I’m actually surprised that he and his friend actually know about knives. Most kids these days know more about computer games than tools.

As they wander off, I overhear Jim telling his friend, “I told you she’d have a boyfriend.”

Andy is coming in handy, even if we’re not an item.

I end up picking a Leatherman ‘tool’–a fancy multipurpose knife–in a pretty burnt orange color. It’s not too big and will fit nicely in my handbags.

I wander a few more aisles before heading for the check out counter. I don’t see anyone else suspicious.

Back in the parking lot I call the Major after loading my purchases into the car.

“One of the guys was looking for a date to a country club event,” I tell him. “I don’t think he’s a threat.”

“So,” the Major asks, “are your going with him?”

“No,” I reply indignantly, then relate the interaction to him. He gets quite a chuckle out of it.

“You’re something else,” he says with another of those verbal smiles. “You make a great daughter.”

“While you were playing with the young man’s heart,” he continues, “I’ve been thinking that you’re right. It’s highly probable that the problem is in the security team. I’m also very sure that you can trust Jen but I think that you should still not tell her about your little experiment with planted data. You planted a seed with her last night and she’s obviously going to do something about it. At this point, I suggest that you just lay back and let Susan and Jen work the security team issues and see what falls out. You’ve given them both reasons to suspect their own team. They know the players and you don’t. Let them take care of it.  In the mean time, you just feed them the false documents and otherwise do your job.”

“What about the request to secure secret information that is where it belongs?” I ask.

“Continue to ignore that request,” he replies. “Doing so will keep you out of trouble if this whole thing heads south. Also, your continued reluctance may draw the requester out into view.”

“What about Dr. Lang and Dr. Sommers?” I ask.

“Based on what you’ve told me,” he replies, “I’d say that neither is a security risk. I see nothing in Dr. Sommers profile that causes me significant concern. Dr. Lang is still smarting from his last bout with Susan and seems like a bona fide sexist jerk. If his contact were a security team member who knew about you, then the conversation would’ve been a lot different. If he is a leak then he’s probably not connected directly to the security team leak.”

“And,” he continues, “let’s keep this conversation between us. I’ll ask Polly to keep the fact that you called quiet for now. We don’t want Jen’s people checking your phone and realizing that this call was not made from it. While you’re waiting for things to happen, there may be a few things that I can do from this end. If there is a leak in the security team, there may be a few things that my team can carry out as doing so fits within our mission. Just hang in there, Princess. We’ll help you all that we can. You know, we need a code word that we can use on the other phone that says that we need to talk on your new private line.”

Without telling him that I already have one with my real parents, I suggest the code word system that I already have in place. He agrees to it.

“Thanks, Daddy,” I smile in reply. “It really helps to clarify my thinking by talking with you. Anyway, I need to get back to the house before they think that I’ve gone AWOL.”

“You’re welcome, Princess,” he says, “Call anytime.”

As I climb in the car, I unwrap my other phone and hide my new one. I notice that I have several missed calls and a phone message all from Laurie. Without listening to the message, I call her back.

“Where have you been, girl?” she asks with anxiety in her voice. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the last half hour.”

“I’ve been at the store picking up some stuff for the hike,” I tell her.

“Well, Tina,” she informs me, “you need to get home pronto. Andy’s here and we’re anxious to get going and I was afraid that something might have happened to you.”

Glancing at my watch, I notice that it’s almost nine thirty and we were supposed to leave at nine. Oops!

“Sorry, Laurie,” I apologize. “I guess I lost track of time. I’m on my way and should be there in five minutes.”

Wow, I didn’t realize how much time I’d spent in the store and I didn’t even get all that much. Fortunately, nothing that I got really needs repackaging.  We can just throw it in day packs and go.  However, I do want to hide my new cell phone before we go.

As I drive home, I keep an eye on the rear view mirror in case I’m being followed.  I even take a few odd turns aimlessly down residential roads but don’t see anyone following me. I’m sure that the Major is being cautious, but I’m starting to think we need to keep from getting paranoid. After all, who would be worried by a simple teen girl working as an intern?

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We're back for a little while.  The story won't be finished before I have to take another real life break, but we're getting there.

Thanks again to Gabi for her help with making this a better product.

 

As I drive home, I keep an eye on the rear view mirror in case I’m being followed.  I even take a few odd turns aimlessly down residential roads but don’t see anyone following me. I’m sure that the Major is being cautious, but I’m starting to think we need to keep from getting paranoid. After all, who would be worried by a simple teen girl working as an intern?

Chapter 32: Hormones

As I pull up to the garage, I notice a red Honda CRV out in front of the house. I suspect it must be Andy’s car. Laurie and Andy are on the front porch waiting for me. Andy seems to be amused but Laurie does not.

“What were you doing, girl?” she starts into me, “We were supposed to leave almost forty-five minutes ago.”

“Sorry,” I reply sheepishly. “I was having a hard time picking out makeup then I got distracted by a few sale items.”

Wisely, Andy sits back and observes the interaction.

“You know, Tina,” Laurie says, “I’m really starting to think that you’re becoming a shopaholic. We need to work on that issue. Anyway, how long before you’re ready to go?”

“Give me five minutes,” I tell her, “I got everything else ready before I left. Here’s the food. Maybe you two can do something with it while I’m getting ready. Just keep your hands off the Cheetoes. Those are mine. I got the Reese’s for you.”

Taking my makeup supplies to my room, I pull my new cell phone out of my handbag and stuff it under the mattress.  I bury the accessories box in a dark corner of my closet for now. I just dump the makeup on my bed, extract my new pocket knife from its packaging before making a quick bathroom stop then meeting the others out front.

“That was quick,” Andy observes. “I thought that girls are supposed to be slow.”

“Sorry about being late,” I apologize to him. “I’m normally on time, really I am.”

“That’s okay,” he replies, “I was a little late myself. Anyway, Laurie and I had a nice chat.”

After piling into his car–Laurie took the back seat, I’m sure so that I can be closer to Andy–we head up to the dam that holds back the local reservoir. There’s a parking area at the base of the dam then the trail follows an old road up the hill overlooking the reservoir from the East. It’s a beautiful day and no one is in a hurry. As we walk, we chat aimlessly about a wide variety of topics. Andy has a very nice digital SLR camera with several lenses with him. He stops frequently to frame scenic shots and a few close ups of various plants and such. It’s no big surprise that he includes Laurie and me in a few pictures.

I look for something which might indicate that Andy has some kind of problem; his father certainly thinks he has one. From the recording the other night, I gather that maybe it has something to do with his relationship with girls but as near as I can tell–once he got past his initial shyness–he relates to the two of us well. In fact within the hour, the three of us are like old friends. If anything, he seems to be keenly interested in us girls–paying close attention to the things we say and do. There is none of the bravado that I’m used to seeing when around other guys–both as a girl and as a boy. He’s just a nice kid.

As we crest the hill and look down on the reservoir and the surrounding area we stop to admire the view and enjoy the breeze. We find a comfortable place off the trail to eat our lunch. I’m glad that I brought along a sun hat that I picked up shopping yesterday as there is no shade on the grassy slope.

“Thanks for getting the lunch, Tina,” Andy says. “I really like the club sandwich that you picked out. It is nice of you to do this for us.”

My, this guy is polite. I need to find some way to find out more about his family. Up until now, we’ve skirted the subject.

“It’s not as nice as your mother’s dinner the other night,” I point out.

“Mom’s a great cook,” he agrees. “I like to help her in the kitchen sometimes. Oh, and sorry about my father’s rudeness.”

“Your mother didn’t seem too happy with him either,” I reply. “What can I do to get along with your dad?”

“I don’t know,” he says, “I think that he feels threatened by any woman that works outside the home.”

“Your mom has a job,” I point out. “In fact, she’s a business woman running her own business.”

“I know,” he replies, “and I thought it might lead to a divorce when Mom proposed buying the store last year when the original owner wanted to retire. It was a pretty bloody battle. It’s a good thing that Mom has her own inheritance because there was no way that my father would put up the money for it.”

“So your father is okay with it now?” Laurie asks.

“Not really,” he replies, “but he tolerates it. In the end, Mom stood up to him and told him that either he could accept it or hit the road. The arguments that ensued over the next couple of weeks scared me a lot. He actually started to push her around physically at one point, but she got in his face and let him know what would happen if he got physical.”

“They did this in front of you?” Laurie asks incredulously.

“Actually, no,” he responds, “but I spent a lot of time eavesdropping.”

We sit for a few minutes, each of us thinking of the pain that such an altercation could cause.

“I don’t know what I’d do if my parent’s fought like that,” I say. “I can’t imagine how awful that must be. Andy, how do you get along with your parents?”

He shrugs his shoulders in resignation, “Mom and I do okay, but I seem to be a big disappointment for my father. I mean, I can’t seem to do anything right. He wonders why I don’t get into sports or act macho. I lack aggression, wear my hair too long, and I’m interested in art and photography–girly pursuits in his opinion. I just don’t see where acting like a macho jerk brings any happiness to me or the people around me.”

After a few moments of quiet contemplation he says, “In a perverse sort of way, Tina, your coming over the other night actually seemed to improve my relationship with my father a little. He seems to hope that I’ll be a real man and have you as a girlfriend to wait on me. I tried to tell him that we’re just friends but what can you do? The guy has hope. You also brought hope to my mother who has wanted me to make some friends for a while now.”

“You know, Andy,” Laurie observes. “I don’t think that you’d treat a girl like a second class citizen. You’re a nice, caring guy. I don’t know where some guys get off on this ‘me man, you woman’ caveman crap but I don’t see you as that kind of a guy. I’m sure you’ll find there are a lot of girls out there who will appreciate a guy who’s kind and gentle like you. You’re a handsome boy too.”

He is handsome I realize as I look at him. He stands about six feet tall, weighs in somewhere around 160 lbs, has a slender but definitely masculine face, longish black hair that could use a trim, a prominent Adams Apple, a tenor voice bordering on bass, fairly broad shoulders, and–dare I say it–a tight set of buns. I did notice them walking up the hill behind him. While not up to athletic standards for fitness, he is in good shape. He’s probably starting to shave regularly and he appears to be relatively strong as well. He’s a nice specimen of a boy who is turning into a young man.

As I register his physical attributes, I have to mentally slap myself as I find myself getting a feeling that I can only describe as soft and gooey. I feel my nipples starting to arouse and a moistness in my crotch. Brain Central must be totally seduced to the dark side as all I get back is he’s quite a catch when I look for direction. I can tell that I need to have a heart to heart chat with Brain Central pretty soon.

I must have been staring at him, because Laurie elbows me in the ribs at this point and brings me back into the real world.

“I hear you have a boyfriend, Laurie,” he says apparently not noticing my distraction–thankfully. “How does he treat you?”

Laurie glances at me before replying, “Chris can be a bit macho, but he’s also very humble and thoughtful–most of the time. He’s pretty clueless at times but he tries to watch out for my feelings. Like most guys he doesn’t understand us girls all that well so he does say the odd insensitive thing from time to time. I suspect that having two older sisters has made him more sensitive than the average guy so he’s a lot better than most. In all, though, I really like being around him. He makes me feel special.”

I’ve never heard this assessment before and it brings me totally back from where ever it was that I had drifted. It sounds brutally honest and I’m a little surprised that she’d be this open with a guy that she doesn’t know all that well. This sounds more like something she’d say to one of her girl friends. Maybe she’s getting the same comfortable feeling that I am about Andy–hopefully not exactly like the feeling that I get. He’s just a good friendly guy.

Trying to get the topic off of Chris, I ask, “How does your father treat your mother?”

“Well,” he replies, “you saw them together the other night. Tension between them is pretty much an everyday thing–sometimes better sometimes worse. Basically my father tries to rule the roost with typical macho bull and he got away with it until a couple of years ago.  I think my mom finally realized that she was useful for more than keeping house and tending the kid. The tension really began when she tried to take a more active role outside the home when I got into high school. This doesn’t fit my father’s expectations for women. He doesn’t know how to deal with it, but mom has been trying to let him see that times have changed since his grandparents’ day. It’s been a tough sell.  Sometimes I wonder why she keeps trying. It’s quite a struggle. This last year has been the worst.”

The last part of his statement came out unsteadily.  He wears a distressed look on his face and his eyes are shimmering with tears, ready to fall as he fights to hold them back. He looks as if he could use a hug.

Feeling bad for pushing him to this point I slide over to sit by him and wrap my arms around him. “I’m sorry, Andy, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

At this intimate contact, the dam breaks–not the reservoir dam mind you–and his tears start to flow. He also wraps his arms around me and hangs on like a drowning soul. I think that he’ll crush me if we’re not too careful.  At this Laurie joins in for a group hug and we just let him cry out his pent up feelings. My heart really goes out to him. It must be difficult living in a home like that.

After a few minutes he relaxes his grip on me and we all sit back and wipe our tears from our cheeks. What little makeup Laurie is wearing needs repair and I’m sure mine does too. He looks back and forth between the two of us and apologizes for his breakdown.

“It’s okay,” Laurie says. “It’s only obnoxious macho guys that have problems with crying. We girls do it all the time and think that boys should try it more often. It cleanses the soul.”

“I don’t know why I feel so comfortable around you girls,” he says, “but I’ve never told anyone about the troubles at home and I shouldn’t burden you with them.”

“Nonsense,” Laurie says. “That’s what friends are for. We help each other sort things out.”

“It’s just that girls are likely to do it differently than guys,” I add with a glance at Laurie. “And it’s more expensive for girls too. Just look at the makeup that needs repairing.”

This brings a slight smile to everyone’s face. Laurie and I fix our faces before we let Andy to take any more pictures of us.

---<>---

As we continue our casual hike, we carry on chatting about our personal goals and aspirations, the gorgeous view, and anything else that comes to mind. We tend to skirt around the Lang family problems as we walk the ridge above the reservoir. Passing a stately oak tree I get the urge to climb it. As Chris I really liked climbing trees. I struggle to reach the first branch–losing a few inches and some upper body strength isn’t helping my cause. Andy offers to help.

Making a foot hold with his hands he says, “Grab my shoulder and step in my hands. It’ll get you to the first branch.”

Following his instructions, I grab his shoulder and feel the strength there beneath his T-shirt as I put my right foot in his hands. Oh no, here comes that gooey, moist, tingly feeling again! He just smiles at me and I notice for the first time what wonderfully warm hazel eyes he has and the realization freezes me in my tracks. I feel myself being drawn into those beautiful eyes. I also notice a scent that is strangely exciting. It must be his ‘guy’ smell. He is looking deeply into my eyes and I see confusion in his eyes as his smile fades away.

“Well,” Laurie breaks the moment, “are you going up or not?”

With a mighty blush, I pull myself up and with a power assist from Andy am almost launched past the big first branch. To cover my embarrassment I scramble higher up in tree to find a comfortable branch to sit on hidden amongst the leaves. One that is far enough from the ground so I can bring–what I can only conclude to be–my raging hormones under control.

I’ve been through the male equivalent of this before. I remember trying to hide the evidence of my arousal more than once when in close proximity to a pretty girl who took my breath away. It took several years of practice to learn how to control the urges so that I didn’t make a total idiot of myself every time I was hit by hormone-driven urges. I found I could control such urges with some effort given to thought control and vigilance. Self-discipline is hard to develop and I don’t have very much time to learn this as a girl. Maybe I can use the same discipline that I used as a boy. I just need some time to recognize the feelings and develop ways to avoid or ease them–at least girls don’t have the obvious outward sign that guys do. Looking down at my chest I see my nipples are more prominent than usual so I guess there are some signs: I ought to wear a padded bra next time. A panty-liner also sounds pretty useful right about now.

“How’s the view up there?” Laurie calls up to me with a grin on her face. “Are you cooling off up there?”

“Why don’t you join me and see for yourself,” I reply sticking my tongue out at her.

“No thanks,” she replies, “I don’t feel like breaking my neck today and I’m not the one getting hot. I could send Andy up to help you down if you like,” she adds innocently.

“I can make down it just fine on my own,” I tell her. I start heading down before she sends him up. I’m not sure how I’d get down if I turn to Jell-O.

Andy is sitting on a log off to one side, sort of hunched over, when I get down.  I recognize the position. The poor boy has something to hide.

“You know,” I say to the group, “I think that it’s time for a refreshment break.” Eating snacks and finding generic topics to discuss slowly bring the two of us off our respective hormonal highs. I make sure to keep Laurie between me and Andy as well–just to be on the safe side.

---<>---

There’s no ladies room out on the trail to drag Laurie off to, so I send Andy down the trail around the bend and I drag her off into the bushes where we do our necessary business then have our quick little chat.

“Laurie,” I grudgingly admit to her, “I’ve got a real problem here. I really, really, need you to not make things worse.”

She gives me that I-told-you-so look, “A little problem with hormones, eh? I was wondering when they’d hit.”

“Yes,” I reply, “I feel like I’m thirteen all over again noticing girls–in this case, boys–for the first time. It took me years to get it under control as a boy. I just hope that I can use the same techniques to control the female version. Anyway please be a friend and don’t make it hard for me by pushing us together. Please let me sit in back when we ride home. I don’t know how to deal with this. I just can’t be attracted to boys. I don’t need this right now.”

She looks me in the eyes for a few moments as she decides how to play this.  Finally she says, “Okay, I’ll not play matchmaker. You know he’s having similar problems, don’t you? You should have seen his pants. Only with him, there is something not quite right. I’m not sure what to make of it. It’s as if the thought of being attracted to you is a new and dreadful experience for him. I wonder if he’s gay? That could be why his father made those comments about him.”

“I don’t know what his issues are right now and I really don’t want to know,” I say desperately, “I have my own issues to deal with. Let’s just get through this hike, I am so confused right now–really, really confused. I don’t know which way is up. I need some time to sort this out.”

Laurie carries the conversation for most of the hike back to the car. Both Andy and I are studiously avoiding coming in contact with one another. Our conversation is also heavily guarded. I sense relief on his part when I take the backseat for the ride back. My relief comes when we finally get home.

After a polite, if insincere, “Thank you very much, it was fun, we’ll have to do it again,” I head for my room as quickly as I can, ostensibly to get ready for running. In my rush for privacy I barely acknowledge Aunt Jen. I’m sure that she’s wondering what’s up. I’ll let Laurie handle that one. I need some time to get my head together.

---<>---

Running has always been my outlet for the confusion and frustrations that accompany teen life so I am looking forward to this evening’s run–at least I was until Caitlin stopped by to pick me up.

I swear girls must have some kind of emotional radar as she pegged me before I got my seatbelt fastened. A silly grin spreads across her face as she watches me buckle in. “That must have been some hike,” she observes.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say as I bury my face in my hands and lean forward to hide the blush.

“Wow!” she observes, “you’re turning red all over. You’ve got it bad, girl. You can tell your best friend about it. It must be really good.”

When I don’t respond she continues, “That bad, huh? Don’t you hate it when you get a crush that you can’t do anything about?”

“I don’t need this right now,” I tell her waving my hands as if to brush my issues away, “I just want a relaxing summer with no complications. No crushes, no boyfriends, no drama. Just hang out with my new friends, do some work, and have some fun.”

“Yeah, I hear you, girl,” she commiserates with me, “but your body has other plans, doesn’t it? In a lot of ways puberty sucks. Surely you’ve had this problem before. Heck, I’ve had so many crushes since I was eleven that I can’t count ’em. The only one that’s lasted long term is with you-know-who. Yours must be worse than the usual crush. Maybe it’s true love.”

I really don’t need to hear that last statement.

“I don’t know what it is,” I say emphatically, “but it stops now.”

“Sure,” she says without conviction. “Tell that to your body.”

Arriving at the school I am feeling wound really tight and it shows. I get a lot of strange looks as I stretch with a vengeance while waiting for the last runners to arrive. Everyone gives me a wide berth.

“Anyone up for a long hard run?” I challenge the group.

I overhear Dan whisper to Caitlin, “Who killed her dog? She looks ready to rip somebody’s head off.”

She whispers back, “I’d stay out of her way today if I were you.”

I give the two of them a look that could kill an elephant at a hundred paces.

Ben has the courage, or stupidity–depending on your perspective–to ask, “What did you have in mind?”

I take a couple of minutes to outline a ten mile run that has a couple of small hills in it. It was one of my favorite get-it-out-of-your-system runs as Chris. Of course, I used to do that run by myself most of the time. Occasionally Dan would join me but he rarely could keep up with me when I was so pent up.

“How do you know about that run?” Dan asks. After all, you’d have to know the area pretty well to pick this run out by yourself. I can tell that the cogs are turning in his head. “Are you sure that you’re not channeling Chris Quinn?”

Thinking fast, I reply, “Laurie told me about it. She said that Chris told her that it was a good run for clearing his head. She thinks that I can use it right now.” Actually, I don’t think that Laurie knows that much about my running routes. She just knows that I run.

He gives me one of those looks as if things are not really adding up in his mind. After a couple of moments he finally agrees to go with me.

“This isn’t going to be a social event, is it?” he states more than asks.

“Nope,” is my single word reply.

 Nobody else is brave enough so they decide to stick with the originally planned run.

“I’ll wait here for you, girlfriend,” Caitlin informs me. With her eyes she tells me that we really need to talk. Swell. Just what I need–a girly heart-to-heart chat. Not! Right now I just want to deal with this the way I always did as a guy–alone. Too bad no one will let me run alone.

Setting a reasonably fast pace I lead the way from the school. Dan wisely stays quiet as we get into our run. I slip into auto pilot letting my subconscious deal with the traffic issues.

Having experienced puberty before I have a pretty good idea what is going on. I remember the first girl that I had a crush on in middle school. What a fool I’d been. I could hardly think of anything else when she was around and she occupied much of my thoughts when I was somewhere else. I made a fool of myself when I locked up every time she spoke to me or I tried to say something to her. It was a mixture of pleasure and agony. It was also extremely confusing. I was a mess. My dad had picked up on the signs. It was as if he was waiting for it to happen. After a couple of weeks of the agony, he and I went for a weekend backpacking trip in the Sierra Mountains. Sitting on a granite rock overlooking a pristine mountain lake he masterfully drew me into a discussion of the feelings that I was having.

I learned then that such feelings are natural and normal. It happens to everyone. We don’t create the feelings. They just happen. He told me that other girls would have the same effect on me and eventually I would learn how to deal with the feelings. He then helped me to see how managing those feelings through self discipline would keep me from doing something that I would regret for the rest of my life. He explained that eventually I will find someone for whom the feelings go deeper than just sexual urges. He said that the right girl will supplement the physical urges with an emotional and mental closeness which causes the two of us feel like one and experience more happiness than simply acting on the base urges will. He told me that many girls will elicit a sexual response at some level through the years, even after finding the right one. Having the restraint of self discipline, he taught me, will keep me from doing stupid things that will destroy the most important relationship I will ever develop–the relationship with my future wife. He also told me that teens invariably go through extensive intellectual and emotional growth as they morph into adults. The many changes that come with that growth are the reason for the high failure rate of teen romances.  The individuals just change too much and they don’t change together, no matter how much they try.

I didn’t really understand what he was saying at the time–in fact I’m not sure that I do even now–but I trusted him and have found that much of his advice has been right on the mark. I suspect that the rest is probably just as true.

Well, it appears that girls have the same basic problem as boys. I suspect that the same general advice works here as well. The knowledge is great, but–as I discovered last time around–developing control is hard. Really hard. It helped that most of the girls that I fell for didn’t return the feelings. It gave me some time to develop the discipline.

Okay, team, I tell myself and Brain Central, we didn’t ask for these feelings but we can deal with it. We did it before and we can do it again. To experience puberty as a sixteen-year-old girl seems somehow unfair. Sixteen-year-old girls have, for the most part, already developed at least rudimentary coping mechanisms. I wish the sex change process could have built that into my new system. I’ll just have to draw on my male mechanisms, with adaptation, to get through this.

With that bit of thinking behind me I finally admit that Tina and Laurie now have a best girl friends relationship. She doesn’t do anything for me sexually right now. We’ve been hanging out as girl friends for several weeks now and we have developed a special relationship, but not a romantic relationship. The same goes for Tina and Caitlin.  Thinking about it, given the circumstances, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I feel a bond and closeness with both girls that is sweet and wonderful and one which I will cherish as a memory forever. I know that neither relationship will survive the change back to Chris. Tina will be gone and Chris cannot be ‘best girl friends’ with anyone.

The big question is whether or not Chris can pick up his relationship with Laurie. I can see subtle changes taking place in her already as the summer progresses and there is no doubt but that I’ll be a very different person than I was at the start of the summer. I know that she really looks forward to Chris’s return, but will the long ‘separation’ mean that both of us will change to the point where we’re not compatible anymore? I start to get a sad feeling that my dad is right, that we will both continue to change and end up going our own ways. The thought is enough to bring tears to my eyes, but I have the gut feeling that the changes wrought by this summer will just be too much for us to overcome. I resolve to make the most of our new special relationship while it lasts. I may never have such a chance again.

Okay, now what do I do about Andy? Any relationship that I build with him will evaporate with Tina’s disappearance. Drawing on my past experiences and teachings I resolve to find a way to keep my hormones in check. I have to be strong if I am to avoid heartache for myself and for him. I don’t have the choice to avoid him as I need to do my part for the investigation. I can do this. Briefly, I consider letting Tina do things that Chris would never do–after all Tina will cease to exist soon and won’t have to live with the fall out. I quickly nix this idea since Tina and Chris really are one. Tina’s experiences will contribute to Chris’s character and Chris cannot afford a lapse in character. Tina will just have to represent Chris well. That’s all there is to it.

Finally, I realize that being attracted to a boy seems to bother neither Brain Central nor me, aside from the complicated relationships that are developing which can only end badly. What’s up with that? Only part of this can be chalked up to hormones. I keep hearing that sexual orientation is between your ears and not your legs. I’m no expert on the subject, but I can tell you that Tina is now all girl and reasonably happy to be one. Chris was all boy and happy to be one. Several of the people in the know say that the psych reports on me indicate that I’d be happy either way. I guess that’s true. I wonder how many people are in that boat? Not many I suspect. I also suspect that the change process gave me a physical brain that was one hundred percent female in structure; that, coupled with female hormones can’t help but to have an impact on my emotional and hormonal responses.

As my thought processes wind down I become aware of my surroundings. We’ve completed most of the run without a word between us.

“Feeling better now?” Dan asks, somewhat winded from the pace we’ve been keeping.

“What?” I ask having not been paying much attention. I’m also winded.

“You’ve slacked off the pace a bit and look like you’ve reached some kind of decision,” he observes. “So, do you feel better now?”

“Actually, yeah, I do,” I respond. Looking him over with new eyes, I begin to see what Suzie sees in him. He is a handsome young man. He’s got strong legs and a very cute butt even if he is scrawny like most serious runners. I can smell his sweat and find it a mildly intoxicating. I can feel a little warmth that’s not all due to the run as I observe him. I resolve to not get freaked about this. I am a girl now. I am going to think girl thoughts and I am going to learn some control. He may be a cute guy, but I knew him too well as Chris to go anywhere near a boy-girl relationship with him. “Thanks for running with me, Dan. I really needed this run today.”

“No problem,” he replies as he gets his wind back. “I just thought that you were trying to kill me through most of the run. Did you know that you really burn up the road when you’re in deep thought?”

I just smile. In some ways this is just like old times–well, as old as it gets for a teenager.

“Don’t take this wrong, Tina,” he hesitantly says we continue to slow the pace, “but I almost feel like I’m running with my friend Chris Quinn again. It’s uncanny. I swear that you’re just like him, only in a female package. When he gets upset he does this same run and has the same expression on his face while he does it. Granted he runs a bit faster than you–after all he is a guy–but you run just like him. The only real difference is that you’re shorter and a lot cuter than he is.”

“Don’t get any ideas, buddy,” I give him a warning look. “Suzie is a friend of mine and there is no way I’m going to come between you two.”

“See,” he says in exasperation, “You’re taking it all wrong. I won’t say that you don’t turn me on, but then every cute girl does that to a guy. I just have this déjá  vu feeling like you’re my ‘best bud’. I can’t get romantic with my ‘best bud’. That’d be too strange.”

I know the feeling, I think to myself. If he only knew–

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 Thanks–yet again–to Gabi for her editing prowess.

 

 

“Don’t get any ideas, buddy,” I give him a warning look. “Suzie is a friend of mine and there is no way I’m going to come between you two.”

“See,” he says in exasperation, “You’re taking it all wrong. I won’t say that you don’t turn me on, but then every cute girl does that to a guy. I just have this déjá  vu feeling like you’re my ‘best bud’. I can’t get romantic with my ‘best bud’. That’d be too strange.”

I know the feeling, I think to myself. If he only knew–

Chapter 33: Dealing with Hormones–Female Style

On our return to the high school, we find Caitlin and Suzie waiting for us. The rest of the team have long since left as the scheduled run was a short one. Dan had told me during the run that he and Suzie were going out together tonight so seeing her here was not unexpected. She doesn’t look entirely happy right now either.

As we run on to the track for our cool down, we give each other high fives, just like Dan and Chris used to do. It’s an automatic reaction which earns me another strange look from Dan. What’s he going to do? There’s no way that he can guess that the obviously female and much smaller version of me is actually Chris.

“Hey, Suzie,” I call out and wave to her with a big smile. “He’s all yours now. Thanks for letting me use him as a body guard.”

“Make that more like a punching bag,” he acts worn out, “This girl can really run when she’s got something on her mind. I was in serious danger of not keeping up with her. Next time we’ll have one of the other guys trail you.”

I give him a playful slap on the shoulder. “Don’t act like such a weakling,” I tell him. “You liked it and you know it.”

“It looks as if you wore him out,” Suzie observes. She looks a lot less than happy. “Can I talk to you a minute? Privately?” she asks me as she glances at Dan.

Once we’re out of earshot of Dan, she starts to lay into me, “What are you doing with my boyfriend?” she demands. “I thought that we were going to be friends.”

“Relax, Suzie,” I reassure her. “Nothing happened. In fact we didn’t even talk most of the run. You don’t have anything to worry about. I think that he’s gotten over any infatuation he might have had with me. He told me I remind him too much of his friend Chris to chase after me. I admit he’s cute, but he’s not for me. We’ll never be more than running partners. His focus is on you, sister. You know what? You’re one lucky girl since he’s quite the catch. Don’t blow it by getting all jealous.”

She’s still not completely convinced, “You two aren’t plotting something then?”

“Look, Suzie,” I sigh, “I’m your friend. Really I am. I won’t do anything to hurt you–I promise. Anyway, I’ve met another guy who makes me melt. I made a fool of myself with him earlier today. That’s why I was so upset and needed the long run. Dan was the only one who could keep up with me. My family won’t let me run alone so I needed him.”

Her eyes lit up, “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“He’s not getting lucky,” I point out. “I cannot complicate my life with a relationship right now. I just need to tell my hormones that. The run was just what I needed to put things in perspective.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Suzie presses. “Who’s the guy? It’s not Andy Lang is it?”

“I’m not telling,” I inform her as I blush.

“You just did,” she smiles. “I don’t know what you see in that guy. He seems like a nice kid, but he’s a loner.”

“Well,” I state emphatically. “Nothing will come of it.”

“Sure, Tina,” she smiles knowingly, “whatever you say. Next time, don’t abuse my boyfriend so much before he has a date. I don’t think that he’s going to be good for much more than a movie tonight. He looks pretty beat.”

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Caitlin’s not any better on the ride home.

“The run must have done you some good,” she observes. “You really perspired a lot and you look a lot happier. So what did you decide to do about your new love?”

“First of all,” I reply, “there is no ‘new love’–just hormones out of control. Second, the run was just what I needed to work the energy out of my system.”

“So Andy Lang gets your motor running, does he?” she smiles like someone who just found a buried treasure. “I don’t know anything about him. How did you meet? What’s he like? What about him turns you on? Come on, girl, spill.”

“Caitlin!” I exclaim, “aren’t you getting a bit personal here?”

“That’s what best girl friends do, sister,” she explains. “So spill.”

“I don’t think that I can do this,” I inform her while I turn beet red and bury my face in my hands.

“Sure you can,” Caitlin says, “just start simple. Tell me something that you like about him. Something that really gets you going.”

I think about it for a minute, recalling my feelings from earlier in the day.

“I like his eyes,” I tell her, vividly remembering looking into those hypnotic pools of his soul as I prepared to climb the tree.

“Do I have to drag this out of you, Tina?” she asks in frustration when it becomes clear that I’m not going any further. “I swear you’re acting like a boy right now. Nothing but short answers. You’ve been a tomboy far too long so let me explain the drill to you.  Girls–more specifically girl friends–tend to describe what they’re feeling and what happened in full explicit detail. Don’t you remember the stories told at the mall yesterday by some of the girls? So, tell me more about his eyes and how they affect you.”

Taking a deep breath I give it a go. It might be good to let it out. Talking about it might help reason  to reassert some control over my hormones.

“Today when I looked into his eyes and I practically melted on the spot,” I tell her. “Is that better?”

“You’re getting there, sister,” she says. “What color are they?”

“Hazel,” I reply as I think back on today’s experience, “A beautiful clear hazel color. When I looked into them I felt myself getting lost in their depth. There’s kindness and gentleness there. A touch of sadness too. I was hypnotized when I noticed them.” I feel myself reliving my earlier experience–warm feelings and all.

“You’re catching on,” she says with satisfaction. “Keep it going, girl.”

“He was giving me a boost up into a tree,” I continue. “When I set my foot in his hands and placed my hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes, it was like time stopped. All I could sense were the strong feel of his shoulder in my hand, his hypnotic eyes, and his masculine smell. I swear, I must have even stopped breathing. Laurie broke the moment with some comment and I was so embarrassed I just climbed up as high as I could to get away.”

“What did Andy do?” she asked.

“Well, uh,” I stammer a bit, “I think that something happened there too. He had to go sit down for a while.”

“Trying to cover up a stiffy was he?” she eagerly asked.

“Caitlin!”, I exclaim yet again, “You’re impossible.”

“Well?” she asks expectantly.

“Yes, he was,” I gave in, blushing again.

“Oh my God, girl,” she excitedly presses more, “what happened next?”

“Nothing,” I reply.

“What do you mean, ‘nothing’,” she practically screams. “He didn’t kiss you or anything?”

“No,” I emphatically reply. “He did not kiss me and I most assuredly did not kiss him. We didn’t even hold hands. It was so awkward. I didn’t know what to do. I’m sure I looked like a complete idiot. I was so glad to get home before it could get any worse. I have no need of a boyfriend and I don’t think he’s looking for a girlfriend. We’re just friends. I think that we’d both like to keep it that way.”

“That’s going to be tough,” she states. “There’s no way you can be ‘just friends’ after an experience like that.”

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The running really helped to settle me down but I’m still not all together yet so I ask Caitlin to take me straight home and she reluctantly agrees. Caitlin’s prying isn’t helping the situation. It’s obvious that she wants to help me with my ‘problem’. She’s made it pretty clear that she thinks I need to follow the path my hormones are dragging me down. I, on the other hand, am of the opinion that I need to learn how to deal with these new feelings just like I did when I was a guy and I need some time to think about it objectively–something which is hard to do when emotions and hormones are involved.

As we pull up to the Mercer home I see the Quinn family minivan parked at the curb. I suspect finding private time will be difficult tonight.

Walking into the house, I find my mother and Aunt Jen in the kitchen drinking wine and chatting.  The conversation comes to an abrupt halt as I walk into the room. 

“Hi, Sweetheart,” Mrs. Quinn greets me.

“How’d the run go?” Aunt Jen asks. “It must have been a good one–you look pretty sweaty.”

“It was pretty intense,” I respond. “It’s good to see you here, Mrs. Quinn. Where’s Dr. Quinn?”

“Oh,” she replies, “Mike had to go out of town on some emergency. I thought I’d just come over to visit with Jen for the evening.”

“Well, I won’t get in the way,” I say. I’m sure that Laurie’s already told them about my issues with Andy and I don’t feel up to anymore prying on the issue. “Anything good to eat?” I ask as I open the refrigerator looking for some sports drink we keep there.

“You won’t be in the way, darling. You’re welcome to join us after your shower. We had roast chicken for dinner,” Aunt Jen informs me. “Why don’t I fix you a plate while you get cleaned up?”

Downing half a glass of sports drink in a very unladylike manner I agree to the plan and retreat to my room.

If I thought I’d find some personal quiet time, I was wrong. Laurie heard me come home and is waiting for me in my bedroom.

“How are you feeling now, Tina?” she asks. “I’ve been worried. You were gone a long time.”

“I went for a long abusive run,” I tell her. “And yes, I feel much better. I find that intense exercise is still a great way to deal with emotional issues. You should try it sometime.”

“No thanks, I think that I’ll stick to long talks with my girl friends,” she replies with a smile.

Thinking about the evening ahead, I dig through my drawers looking for the plainest underwear and pajamas that I can find. None of this girly girl stuff for me tonight. I need to remind myself of who I really am before I do something stupid–like falling for some guy.  Mind you, white cotton panties with cartoon characters printed on them, a bra–of any type–and purple pajamas with heart patterns sprinkled on them aren’t exactly masculine, but it’s infinitely better than my translucent pale blue baby doll with a matching thong.

“I’ll be back,” I inform her as I take my stuff to the shower. I’m not running around naked in front of anyone tonight.

The shower feels great. I love the feel of the hot water filtering through my hair as I close my eyes and lean back into the spray. As I leisurely wash my body, I can’t help but feel the smoothness of my curves and the swell of my breasts. The emptiness between my legs reminds me that my hormonal responses are just not the same as before. I can’t say that I miss the ache that comes with a raging hard on.  An over stimulated penis can be uncomfortable and difficult to deal with discretely.  As I reflect on the activities of the day–particularly of my contact with Andy–I find myself responding in what must be the female equivalent of the male sexual response. It is strangely familiar but totally different in the physical manifestation. I think I prefer the softer experience of the female response. While it is frustratingly pleasurable, I remind myself that it is an unwanted response, but one that I just can’t turn off. Just like I couldn’t as a guy.

As I resolved earlier, I can learn to control these feelings again–as a girl. I know I can. It only stands to reason that I’d be attracted to a boy since my new body IS female. It has a physically female brain and hormonal system.  I am a girl now, and I will relax and enjoy it while I can–but with control.

Returning to my room, I find Laurie is still there but she has also changed into her pajamas. She is sitting cross legged on my bed looking through the images from our hike which are on our cell phones. It looks as if it time for our delayed talk but I’m hungry.

“Hey, girlfriend,” she says without looking up. “Mom says to tell you that your dinner’s ready whenever you want it.”

“Now sounds good,” I mention, and she joins me for the short trek to the kitchen.

Just like before, the conversation stops when we walk into the kitchen.  The two older women are sitting at the breakfast table obviously having been into some deep conversation.

“Smells great,” I remark to no one in particular as I open the microwave to retrieve the reheated dinner.

“There’s lemonade in the fridge,” Aunt Jen says.

“How was the hike?” Mrs. Quinn asks innocently as I sit down next to her at the table. Briefly I think, maybe she doesn’t know about my response to Andy, but then I remind myself that I live with a bunch of women. There are no secrets when it comes to things of the heart.

“Good,” I reply. Laurie and I spend the next few minutes recounting our adventures to our mothers–leaving off the attraction part.

“So, Tina, I can tell that you really like this Andy boy.” Mom–I can only think of her this way as she goes into mother mode–asks getting directly to the point–she’s not one to beat about the bush. “How are you dealing with this?”

I blush as I reply, “He’s a nice kid.” Why do I have to blush so much? I quickly fill my mouth with salad before I can say any more.

“Just nice?” Aunt Jen asks gently with a knowing smile. If possible, my blush deepens even more as I try to hide behind my loosely hanging hair. I follow the salad with a fork full of mashed potatoes. That should keep me from saying anything stupid.

Unfortunately no one is in a hurry to change the conversation.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Mom smiles. “It happens to everyone. Urges happen. We just need to learn how to deal with them.” This sounds like the same counsel that Dad gave me the first time around. I can see that she is winding up for a fuller explanation.

As I swallow the potatoes I realize that I need to join the conversation before Mom gets up a full head of steam.

“I know, Mom,” I tell her with a sigh. “Dad gave me this talk a few years ago and, you know, it’s not too different from this side of the gender fence. The physical response is just different. I had just hoped that I could avoid this experience. I learned how to develop self control as a boy and I suspect that I can do it again as a girl. At least I know what’s happening this time. Unfortunately, knowing what’s happening doesn’t necessarily make it less challenging.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t, sweetheart,” she says as she leans over to give me a hug as I take another bite of chicken.

Reflecting on the new emotional feelings of the day I say to the group after swallowing my latest bite and putting my fork down, “I think I’m starting to see what you all see in chick flicks. I’ve never understood how you females can get all gooey eyed over the male leads, but now I can appreciate what a handsome face, strong shoulders, and a tight butt can do for a girl. I’m looking at guys in a whole different light now.” I figure that I might as well be honest with them–and with myself.

The three women stare at me with their mouths open. I guess they didn’t expect this response.

“What?” I ask. “I’m a girl now. Can’t I have girl fantasies?”

Aunt Jen is the first to reboot. “Sure, darling, you can. We’re just surprised that you’re okay with this.”

“I’m not sure that I am–completely,” I tell her. “I’ve been thinking pretty hard about this all evening and have decided that it’s better to go with the flow than to fight it. I’m a girl now. I have a 100% female body complete with a female brain and female hormones. I should expect to be attracted to boys just like your average teen girl.  When I get back to my male body I’m sure that I’ll make the transition back to being attracted to girls when everything is 100% male.” Glancing at Laurie I add, “At least I really hope so. I’d like to get back what we’ve put on hold for the summer.”

Returning my attention to the group, I continue, “I’m a girl learning about hormones for the second time in my life. The same need for self restraint is there and I learned it once, I can learn it again. I’m sure it won’t be any more fun this time around either; however, I’m not going to feel bad about being attracted to a guy because that’s simply what girls do. I am going to control what I do in response to those urges to keep from damaging my life and that of others.”

“That’s a very mature attitude, Tina, but unfortunately, it’s also easy to say when you’re away from the temptation,” Mom points out. “Remember that when you’re in his presence.”

“Do you think that he’s attracted to you?” Aunt Jen asks.

Laurie pipes in, “Oh yeah. Big time. The signs are all there. The interesting thing is he appeared to be more afraid of his attraction to Tina than Tina does of her attraction to him. He was just as anxious to get away as she was.”

Looking closely at me Mom asks, “So what are you going to do now?”

“Nothing?” I suggest. “Let him think about it for a while then ease back into being just friends. I really don’t think that having a boyfriend is a good idea for Tina.”  I glance over at Laurie to watch her reaction.

As if reading my mind she adds, “Tina, it is okay with me if you have a boyfriend. I know that you aren’t Chris this summer. Chris is in limbo and will be back at the end of summer and will be unable to pursue any of Tina’s relationships. From a mission perspective, I think that you need to continue to see Andy and if it turns into something special, then so be it. You’ll have a sweet memory of the experience when this is all over.”

Aunt Jen clears her throat, “Ah, about the mission. We need to keep what I’m about to tell you amongst ourselves for now. I’m not even sharing this with the committee yet but I think that you all need to hear this.” She certainly knows how to get our attention. “While you two were out exploring today, I managed to have a trace done on the call that Dr. Lang made Saturday night. I can’t tell you where it was made to, but I’m convinced that we really need to keep a close eye on Dr. Lang. Tina, we really need you to integrate into their household.”

“Am I in danger?” I ask pointedly.

“I don’t think so,” she replies, “but be careful nonetheless. Keep your cell phone with you at all times when you’re there. You need to find out who Dr. Lang’s friends and associates are, what he does with his spare time, and look for any suspicious behavior. We may be on to something here.”

“So,” I ask, “what do I do now?”

“Given the fact that Andy seems frightened by his feelings right now,” Mom says, “I suggest that you play it slow.”

“Yeah,” Laurie agrees, “I’m real sure that he picked up on your attraction as well. You need take it easy and not act like of a love-starved girl. Don’t pursue him. Down play your attraction to him. Like you said, just ease into being ‘just friends’ and see where it goes.”

“In other words,” I interpret what she’s saying, “you want me to play the girl trick of acting like I’m not interested when in fact I really am? I’ve always hated that one.”

“Well,” she defends, “you don’t want to scare him off. Some guys will run for the hills as soon as you show too much interest. You need to let them think the relationship was their idea. Guys are funny that way. You need to be really careful to land this one.” This sounds a lot like fishing, something that I'm normally not so good at--though I do enjoy it.

Given our past history, I guess she knows what she’s talking about.

We spend another half hour discussing the situation before Mom excuses herself to go home. In the end, we agree–at the very least–that I need to maintain contact with Andy. If it develops into something more, then so be it. I feel a bit guilty when I find myself hoping that we can become more than friends. I find myself sort of hoping that Andy and I can be like Chris and Laurie.

Before going to bed I step into Laurie’s room for a heart-to-heart chat.  I need to make sure that she really is cool with all this.

I hop up on her bed and sit cross legged facing her.

“Laurie, what’s happening to us?” I ask her.

She shrugs her shoulders and says, “I don’t really know, Tina. I don’t see my boyfriend Chris in you anymore. I had hoped that I’d see Chris again when we went to the City on Saturday but I didn’t. I just see a wonderful girl friend who is discovering new horizons on almost a daily basis. Sure, she has a lot of the same great personality traits as Chris, but she is very much a girl. I’d be pretty excited for any girl friend that falls in love and wish her the best so I guess that’s what I’m doing with you.  I miss Chris terribly so am a little jealous that you get to be near to someone that excites you while I wait patiently alone for my love to return.  I just hope that Chris is in there somewhere, waiting patiently for me. I just hope that you–the Tina you–doesn’t forget about me this summer either. I still want to spend time with my favorite cousin.”

“First of all I’m not in love,” I correct her. “It’s just a hormone-driven infatuation. I can deal with it and keep things under control. Second, I’m also having a hard time remembering what life as Chris was like. In a way, life as Chris is already fading into pleasant distant memory. I would have thought that it’d bother me, but strangely it doesn’t.  I’m sure that there is still a lot of Chris in me, but I’m having trouble remembering the details of life as a boy. It feels strangely alien to contemplate. I am really feeling comfortable with who I am now. I know that I have a lot to learn about being a girl, but I still feel like one–and like it.”

“Do you really think Chris will come back?” she asks.

“Yeah, I do,” I tell her. “There’s not much choice there. But will he be the same Chris that left a few weeks ago? Not any more than if he really had gone off to Scout camp for the summer. You know we’ve talked about this before. I think my Dad is right in that we’re both in tumultuous times in the development of our maturity and the ways that we look at the world are changing fast as we learn how to take on increased responsibility for ourselves. He has said that this is why few teenage romances survive. It’s even more difficult when we’re apart as we can’t change together. Chris is gone for the summer and he will come back colored by Tina’s experiences. You will have changed considerably too. In fact, I see changes in you already. Will the two of you still be compatible? The odds are against it but it’s worth finding out. I certainly hope that things will work out. I’m afraid Tina gaining a boyfriend might not help Chris and Laurie. I just don’t know. What I do know is that I–that is me as Tina and me as Chris–want to be your friend for life in some fashion.”

Tears are welling up in her eyes as we talk. “I’m so confused,” she says reaching out to hold my hands in hers. “I really love you in both your forms. I’m afraid that I might lose both of you when this is all over.”

“I have the same fear,” I tell her squeezing her hands. “Let’s just hang in there and make the most of the here and now and leave the future to itself.”

She gives me a sad smile, “Now I know that Tina Jeffers is different from Chris Quinn. Chris is obsessed with protecting the future and would never have said anything like what you just said.”

“Tina is cautious too,” I tell her. “There is no way that she’ll do anything stupid to destroy her future. But–still–I also intend to make the most of what we have before us right now.  Speaking of which, I’m curious, tell me what attracts you to a boy and how it makes you feel.”

She blushes and looks reticent to say anything.

“I have it on good authority that this is what real girl friends do,” I inform her. “Remember the mall yesterday? We had that short chat after listening to some pretty sordid tales by some of the girls that were cut short. I still want to know the answer to my question. It might help me better understand my current situation.  As you might recall, I asked you if you ever think about sex and what it’ll be like.”

She turns even redder. “I remember the question. I was hoping you’d forgotten about it.”

“Well?” I ask. “Am I your best girl friend or not?”

“The only problem is that I know this conversation will get back to Chris,” she says.

“He’s not here right now,” I tell her. “And after this summer’s experiences, I think he’ll be more understanding than the average guy.”

“You’re probably right,” she admits.

“So,” I encourage her, “how about answering the question.”

She sighs and takes a deep breath. “Sure, what girl hasn’t? I know guys think about sex all the time. Let me tell you, it’s the same for girls. It’s just that most of us try hard not to show it–we have a lot to lose if things go wrong: a lot more than guys do and it scares most of us enough to discourage a boy until we’re sure that the relationship is secure. Sure, there are the wanton floozies like some of those other girls we met. As we’ve discussed in the past, the baggage they end up carrying is usually much heavier than they’d like to admit and the rest of us simply want to avoid the pain. But aside from all that, I think that every girl has visions of being swept off her feet by some kind, tender, yet hunky knight in shining armor to be carried off to a sumptuous bed to make mad, passionate love all night long.”

She gets a faraway look and sighs.

“You ask if I ever think about sex and what it would be like. I have to admit that I do. A lot. So do my other girl friends. We all wish that we could have sex without all the other baggage. The only way that I can see to do that is with the man that I plan to spend the rest of my life with so–until I’m committed to him–I keep it under control. The one night stands and short term relationships that we heard about yesterday sound exciting–I got pretty aroused by the stories–but just look at where it gets those girls. Nowhere really. They are all hurting inside to some extent and/or have desensitized themselves to the point that it’s hard for them to have a real deep relationship with a boy.”

“Do I look forward to it? You bet. Sometimes the desire and anticipation are overwhelming. I  can’t tell you how many times I’ve been sorely tempted to drag Chris off to bed to make passionate love. We’re just too young to make the kind of commitment that we know will last so I have to struggle to control myself. When I’m convinced that I’ve got the right man and we’re ready to make the commitment, then I intend to wear the poor guy out.”

“Have you ever had a crush on anyone other than Chris?” I ask. “I mean someone that gets you sexually excited?”

“Sure,” she says. “There are plenty of guys out there that look good to me. I had my first crush in seventh grade when I was only twelve years old. I still get warm feelings when I think about it. I was so lost that he was all that I could think about. I had fantasies about setting up house with him. I didn’t really know what sex was at the time.  All I knew is that I wanted him to notice me and treat me like someone special.”

“Well,” I ask, “did he?”

“Did he what?” she asks in reply. “Did he notice me? Not really. He was into some new electronic game and was totally oblivious to all my efforts to get him to notice me. Needless to say, he never did treat me as someone special. In fact, my infatuation ended one day after I tried to do something nice for him and called me a ‘stupid girl’ and told me to go play with my girl friends. I was soooo mad. It became obvious to me at the time that twelve-year-old boys are pretty immature.”

“Has there been anyone else?” I ask.

“Any more crushes?” she asks. I nod affirmatively. “A few, but no one has ever lived up to my fantasies. After my first crush, I found myself looking more at older boys. I really took a shine to a football player when I was a freshman. He was a Junior. We went out a few times, but he was so stuck on himself that I got bored pretty fast. He was also more interested in getting into my panties than getting to know me. It was a real turn on though at first–I have to admit–I was sorely tempted. He had these amazingly strong arms and chest. His butt was to die for. I got pretty aroused, in fact–I don’t think I should be telling you this–but I had my first real orgasm when we were making out on our first date but then he blew it by acting like a jerk when his buddies came by. He treated me like a possession, not a person.”

“Now” she says, turning the tables, “I’ve told you my secrets, now it’s your turn.”

“I guess my experiences are similar in a lot of ways,” I tell her. “My first crush was probably around thirteen. She was beautiful and graceful and in one of my classes at school. I felt so out of control with my feelings and acted like such a fool. The interest that I showed in her was more along the lines of trying to impress her with my manliness. It didn’t work. About the tenth time she called me a loser I started to get the hint that she wasn’t going to respond favorably. I was devastated. After her, I began to notice a lot of other girls, but then–after talking with my dad–I started recognize my feelings and worked on self control. I had a couple of more failed experiences trying to get a girlfriend which helped me with my self control development. Having two older sisters helped a lot also. Girls weren’t a total mystery after living with Tiff and Marla. In fact the sibling rivalry thing taught me that girls are people too and not play things. Girls can also be a pain to live with.”

“Did you ever fantasize about sex?” she asks, “I get the feeling sometimes that’s all boys think about.”

“Sure,” I reply. “When we used to make out I would often wish that we were older and married so that we could just take it into to the bedroom. When we do, I want it to be special and not some heated rut. Have I thought about it with other girls? Yeah, sometimes. But most of the time I would get aroused it was just because I was attracted to her, not necessarily that I want to haul her off to bed.”

“I get the same way about a cute guy sometimes,” she admits. “I get all gooey but I’m not about to do anything stupid. The best cure for an infatuation is to get to know them. Very few boys live up to the fantasy.”

“That pretty much sums it up for me to,” I tell her. “So help me out here, girlfriend. Right about now I’m thinking that Andy is pretty sexy. He’s got wonderful hazel eyes that I get lost in, strong shoulders, a cute butt, and smells so manly. He’s also got a kind and gentle personality. I get all gooey just thinking about him. I also took a good look at Dan today and think he’s pretty cute too, but I know him too well and can’t imagine anything going on there. Am I going nuts or what?”

Laurie smiles and gives me a hug, “No, Tina, you’re not going nuts. You’re just a normal teen girl who is learning about love and life. Welcome to the club. Oh, and you might want to add a few panty liners to your purse.”

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Thanks again to Gabi for her editing. We may not get it all, but it's a lot better than it was!

 

 

“That pretty much sums it up for me to,” I tell her. “So help me out here, girlfriend. Right about now I’m thinking that Andy is pretty sexy. He’s got wonderful hazel eyes that I get lost in, strong shoulders, a cute butt, and smells so manly. He’s also got a kind and gentle personality. I get all gooey just thinking about him. I also took a good look at Dan today and think he’s pretty cute too, but I know him too well and can’t imagine anything going on there. Am I going nuts or what?”

Laurie smiles and gives me a hug, “No, Tina, you’re not going nuts. You’re just a normal teen girl who is learning about love and life. Welcome to the club. Oh, and you might want to add a few panty liners to your purse.”

Chapter 34: New Opportunities

I don’t sleep well, but when I do manage to get to sleep I have dreams of Andy–a physically enhanced Andy–coming to rescue me from some dangerous situation and carrying me off to a romantic place where we slowly undress one another with copious amounts of kissing and fondling. I wake up feeling extremely aroused–each time just before we consummate our relationship. The latest dream has us standing before a priest to be married. I feel like I’m going to burst into flame I feel so excited. As he carries me over the threshold of the bridal suite at an expensive hotel I manage to stay in dreamland as we aggressively undress each other and fall into passionate love making on the huge heart shaped bed. The real life orgasm which accompanies the dream finally wakes me for good. What an experience!

I remember similar dreams from not so long ago. Then I was the boy–man really–in the dream and the girl was usually an enhanced version of my latest infatuation. I used to wake up with a raging hard on and feeling very frustrated or with sticky sperm filled underpants which needed to be dealt with. This time I awaken to a terribly moist pair of panties and a warm satisfied feeling. The female orgasm is definitely a lot less messy. It also feels more intense. I like it. I also feel guilty. I really need to get my thoughts–and dreams–under control. Brain Central is pretty quiet except to caution me to keep away from the real thing. Sex is trouble–with a capital T.

After sneaking off to the bathroom to freshen up a bit I head back to my bedroom.  It is only six o’clock but I don’t feel like going back to sleep. I don’t think that I’d survive another one of those dreams.

Booting up my computer, I start downloading some of the software I need to do the computer work with Andy.  It takes a little while to download and install some of it. It’s good to have a credit card from the Lab to cover the expense. I also download yesterday’s images from my cell phone, noticing that some of the sound files have been deleted from the device. Someone is monitoring us.

I have some questions about photo editing, so I shoot off an email to Andy to get some answers. I also include a short apology for rushing off yesterday. I figure this is a good, low key, way to reestablish contact with him. Surprisingly I get an email back within a few minutes with some advice on what to do with my photos. Andy is obviously up early this morning. He also suggests that I take a look at updates on his web page. There is–noticeable in its absence–no mention in his email of getting together again. I suppose we’ll just have to maintain email contact until he is ready to make the next move.

Checking Andy’s website, I notice several new images from the hike. They are mostly artistic scenery shots, but he has a few of me and Laurie posted as well as a couple of candid images of just me. The candid pictures are quite fetching. I look like some kind of supermodel. How does he do that?

I send him an email back thanking him for the advice, yesterday’s hike, and for being a friend. I also tell him that I really love his pictures. I also drop a hint that it’d be good to get together to do some more computer work.

I spend some time writing thank you notes to all the people that have been kind to me lately, letting them know that I appreciate it. I write Caitlin and Laurie short notes on the friendship cards I picked up at the store yesterday telling them how much I value their friendship. Feeling girly, I add a few hearts around my signature wave them through a cloud of perfume.

Seeing that it’s getting to a decent hour I decide it’s time to touch base with my Alaskan family. I do need to get some time with them in on the Laboratory supplied cell phone, though I wonder if it’s worth keeping up appearances since the bad guys may well know about my deception.

The Major is out for a run so I chat with Mom Polly for a bit about yesterday’s hike. She seems to have the same radar that the other girls do and quickly picks up on my interest in Andy. We spend almost an hour talking about love and life and how a girl is supposed to deal with her feelings and boys in general. The advice is similar to what I got last night–a girl has to be careful. Mom Polly really gets into the conversation and even gives me an abbreviated reminder about the birds and the bees. She really should have had a daughter of her own. I think she realizes this opportunity to mentor a daughter won’t last long and she’s making the most of it. I really like her.

While we’re talking, the Major returns and has time to take a shower before Mom Polly and I are through talking. He gets on the line for a few minutes and drops a hint–using our code word–that I should call him on the other phone. I was planning on it anyway, so I say my goodbyes only to call right back on the other phone.

“Hello, Princess,” he greets me. “Did you make any progress yesterday?” He just gets down to business–like a typical guy.

“I guess you could call it that,” I waffle in my reply. I embarrassed to talk about my new crush with a guy.

“Oh,” he says, “tell me about it.”

I proceed to tell him about the hike and how difficult life is at the Lang home these days.

“Something else happened, didn’t it?” he asks. Am I really this easy to read?

It’s a good thing that we’re on the phone so I can hide my blush, “Well, er, I guess you could say that I sorta developed a crush on Andy.”

“Whoa, Princess,” he warns me. “you need to be really careful here. You can’t let your hormones interfere with the job. People could get hurt if you let your emotions cloud your judgment.”

“Honest, Major,” I defend myself. Actually it comes out more like a whine. “I really wasn’t planning this. The last thing I need is to be falling for anyone right now. It just sorta happened. I think I can keep it under control. I just need to remind myself of who I really am and that this will be over in another six weeks.”

“Does he know about your crush?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I reply, “But I’m pretty sure that he’s got one on me too.”

“You’re a smart kid,” he reminds me, “just don’t forget that. I don’t see any way for you to avoid him. Sometimes the best way to get over a crush is to get to know the person. People rarely live up to the fantasy. Anyway, while you have this crush it’ll be awkward to be around him but for the good of the mission, you need to pursue the relationship. I don’t mean that you should jump in bed with him–in fact, don’t even consider it, Princess. You’re not ready for that. Keep your wits about you and don’t let your hormones lead you into anything you’ll regret later.”

“I understand, Daddy,” I tell him. “I’ll be good girl.”

---<>---

The rest of the day is surprisingly normal–whatever ‘normal’ might be. I spend some time working on computer stuff, laundry, and helped Aunt Jen and Laurie with some yard work. Laurie and I hang out and chat much of the afternoon about a variety of topics. I check my email fairly frequently throughout the day hoping for something from Andy.  I find myself thinking about him quite a lot and wishing he’d call or something.

Eventually, Caitlin comes by to pick me up for running practice.  She’s bursting to hear any news about me and Andy. She’s pretty disappointed when I tell her that all I’ve heard from him today was a short informational email. When I tell her that I’ve decided to pursue the relationship she starts bouncing up and down in her seat like an excited little girl.

“Watch it, girl,” I say in a panic as we start to swerve. “Like, we don’t need to get in an accident, ya know.”

“Oh, sorry about that,” she says as she regains some control of herself and the car. “This going to be soooo much fun, girl. To catch a guy, you’ve got to be careful, Tina. Play it cool and a little hard to get. Let him make the next move. He has to think it’s his idea”

This advice comes from a girl who has been working hard for years to land her dream date and the object of her affection didn’t even have a clue until the other day–and only then because he has become her best girlfriend. No, I don’t think that she’s got this boy attraction thing down yet and I’m not sure how to tell her.  Anyway, I’ll do it my way. I’m sure my way will be unorthodox from a girl’s perspective–that is, once I figure out what I’m going to do.

When we get to the school, the other kids are hesitant about approaching me until Caitlin tells them that everything is cool. I smile at everyone and try to act like nothing happened yesterday.

“I see that you’re in a better mood,” Dan observes.

“Yeah,” I reply, “thanks for the run yesterday. I really needed it.”

“Yeah, well,” he responds, “I’ll be sore for the rest of the week. The things I do for my friends,” he adds melodramatically. “Suzie said to ask you to go easy on me tonight.”

“We’ll see, big boy,” I reply with a sultry voice and a batting of eyelashes. He just nervously backs away.

The workout is light tonight as everyone is saving their strength for tomorrow’s intervals. I’m pretty sure that some of the kids are planning on skipping tomorrow. I know that Caitlin is working. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the others find equally valid excuses for avoiding the torture.

After the workout Caitlin and I go to her house for a couple of hours before I have to go home. We spend most of the time up in her room where she coaches me on the fine art of landing a boyfriend while working our way through her CD collection. I listen intently to see how it works from a normal girl’s perspective. I need analyze her advice from the male perspective so I don’t make the mistakes she did. On the mission front, I don’t learn anything more about her father and his Middle East connections.

Later–as I lie in bed trying to get to sleep–I find my thoughts drifting towards Andy again. He is a good looking boy. Kind too. I checked my email when I got home and there’s still nothing from him. I sent him another email about some things I learned today about databases while surfing the net and ask if he has any advice on the edits which I had done to my web page. I figure I can keep up the communication from this end until he decides to surface. I just need to keep the message low key and friendly–like best buddies. There was another of the surveys in my inbox–which I dutifully completed. As I think of Andy I get that warm feeling again and find that I can’t wait to see him again. In fact, I find myself daydreaming as I leisurely work my way through the survey.

Brain Central kicks in as I become aware of what I’m thinking. The directions which I receive are along the line of: keep it cool, girl. You’ve got to control your passions. My Dad once told me about the Principle of Least Interest.  Basically put, the person with the least interest in a relationship controls the relationship. Maybe that’s why the advice I get from every front is to play this cool.  The problem with playing it cool is the other party may never know you have any interest–that certainly seems to be the case with Caitlin’s approach to attracting Chris.  In fact, it occurs to me that Caitlin is not in control simply because Chris has no interest whatsoever in a relationship with her. She needs to find a better way to develop Chris’s interest–none of her methods to date have been effective. With Andy I don’t have to develop his interest. I’m pretty sure that it’s already there. Somehow I need to let Andy know I’m interested in developing a relationship without throwing myself at him so he’ll take the next step.

It also occurs to me that the girl really needs to hold the key to the relationship in order to keep from being coerced–or enticed–into doing something she’ll regret. As Laurie pointed out, while we girls may be sexually excited every bit as much as the boys, the consequences are much more dire so we need to be careful to gain control of the situation. Boys don’t seem to be as concerned with the consequences–probably because they can just walk away and leave the girl to deal with it. As a boy, I was always been kept in check by the girl and now I can really see why. Now, I need to be the one who is clear headed enough to set and hold the boundaries. This is going to be more work than I reckoned on.

Still, a girl can dream, can’t she?

---<>----

Wednesday morning seems just like any other day at work–almost.  Everyone is back from their holiday and much of the morning is spent comparing notes about the activities of the long weekend. One of the women comments that she’d seen me at the fireworks in the company of a handsome young man and wants to know who he was. When I blush a little–I wish I could control that–she also smiles as she congratulates me on being so quick to find a nice boyfriend. My insistence that he’s just a friend only brings a knowing smile from the woman. This bit of intelligence apparently launches a round of gossip amongst the women, many of whom stop off to congratulate me and ask for details even though I continue deny any such relationship. I swear that women are much more intrusive into each other’s lives than men are. There is nothing like a budding romance to catch their attention.  When I mention that it was Dr. Lang’s son that I was out with I receive a few vague comments that mostly express the sentiment that they hope he isn’t too much like his father.

When I do find myself alone, I search through the file drawer at the receptionist’s desk and am rewarded with finding another file labeled ‘Top Secret’. When no one is around, I photograph the location with my cell phone and slip the file into my oversized handbag. Finding time to take pictures of the pages proves to be difficult. When I head off to the women’s room to find some privacy to photograph the file, I find a couple of my co-workers there.

“Tina,” one asks, “What’s this I hear that you’re dating Dr. Lang’s son?” Her name is Denise and works as an electronics tech in one of the labs.

“I don’t know if ‘dating’ accurately describes the relationship,” I respond. “We’re just friends. I went over to his house to learn about web page stuff then we went to the fireworks with my cousin.”

“I hear that you went out with him Monday also,” the other woman commented.  I don’t recognize her.

“Yeah,” I reply, “It was just a hike in the hills with him and my cousin. Just friend stuff.”

I notice a ‘yeah, right’ look passing between the two women.

Denise warns me, “I don’t know if you’ve met Dr. Lang yet, but I’d steer clear of him. Just between us girls, he’s a real pain in the behind.”

“I agree,” says the other woman, “I work with him sometimes and he is a real condescending macho sexist jerk. I swear, he thinks that you’ve got to have balls to be able to think. His mother must have been mean to him or something. I’d swear off men if they were all as bad as he is. I hope his son’s not like that–after all ‘Like Father, like son’.”

“Actually, Andy is a pretty nice boy,” I tell them. “And yes, I’ve met Dr. Lang and I know what you mean. He was pretty rude to me when I went to their house. He accused me of being a spy for Mrs. Harrison since I work in the temp pool and she is my supervisor.”

“Oh,” says Denise with interest, “are you? I’d love to see him canned for being a sexist jerk. I can’t tell you how many times that arrogant bastard has been rude to me and the other women around here. We’d all like to see him get his due!”

“You got that right, sister,” chimes in the other one. “Too bad he’s so good at what he does. I think he’d be easier to get rid of if he wasn’t.”

“Actually,” I reply, “no. I’m not on assignment to nail him for harassment. I’m just a summer office temp. I’m just a kid. How would I know about this kind of stuff?”

“Well, kid,” Denise says as they head back to work, “just a word of advice: avoid the bastard whenever you can.”

The two women leave the restroom as I duck into a stall where I quickly photograph the pages of the report.  I finish just as another pair of women enter the women’s room.  It sure is busy around here this morning.

As I wash my hands and touch up my makeup, I end up in another short conversation with these two women similar to the last. It would seem that the arrogant Dr. Lang is not well loved by his female coworkers. It also appears the gossip network around here is pretty active.

After transmitting the images to the security team, I return to my work space to find Mrs. Russ, the Director’s Administrative Assistant waiting for me.

“Hi, Tina,” she smiles at me. “Have you a few minutes to talk with me?”

“Sure,” I reply, “just let me put my bag away.”

After stowing my bag in an empty file drawer, I follow her into the conference room.

“Tina,” she begins, “thank you for all your help these past couple of weeks. You are a ray of sunshine with your efficiency and wonderful attitude. You’re wonderful to work with.”

Blushing slightly, I reply, “Just doing my job, Mrs. Russ. It’s not too difficult, you know, but I do like working here. Most people here are very nice and helpful.”

“Ah,” she says, “That’s what I want to talk to you about.  I know that we’ve not been challenging you here. How would you like some increased responsibility?”

“It depends on what you want me to do,” I tell her. “I’m still in high school you know. It’s not like I can contribute much to laser research. Not only that, but I’m only temporary and Mrs. Harrison may send me somewhere else.  Starting a new project might not be wise.”

“Oh,” she says, “I’ve talked with Susan and–after a lot of haggling–she’s agreed to let us have you for the rest of the summer–that is if you agree.”

“What do you have in mind for me to do?” I ask.

“Well,” she begins, “several things, actually, I’ve looked over your resume and see that you’ve done a little computer programming–databases in particular. What database system did you learn?”

“Access,” I reply, “with a little VBA to make custom forms and functions. It was pretty minor stuff, really.”

“Do you think you could create a database application that we can use to track the documents in our research library?” she asks. “It would need to be able to generate reports about the frequency of use of the various documents, who’s using them, the documents that particular individuals use, what is currently checked out and stuff like that. Oh, and it would need to be accessible across our intranet. We need to get a handle of what is important to who in order to keep our resources current.”

“I can do most of that,” I tell her, “but I’m not sure about the intranet access part, but I imagine that I can learn that if I can get the time.”

“Oh, we can get you some help with that,” she says with a smile, “we only have–arguably–one of the largest computing sites in the world with some of the best programmers around. I’m sure one of those hotshot programmers would be more than happy to answer questions from a bright girl like you. They might even let you play on one of the supercomputers.”

“You know,” I tell her, “you can probably buy a commercial library management system which will do more than I can produce. Heck, one of those hotshot programmers can probably set up the database in an afternoon.”

“We know that,” she smiles at me, “but I think it would be good for both you and for us if you did it. Would you like to try?”

Would I like to try, she asks. It sure beats the stuffing out of making coffee and answering telephones all day. Not only that, but it will make me more useful to Andy–not to mention it will help with the programming class I have scheduled in the fall. Maybe–if I do it right–I might be able to use it in the investigation to monitor document flow to see if there are any strange usage patterns.

“You bet,” I tell her with a grin. “Sign me up.”

“Great,” she says. “We still need you to continue with your current tasks, but you’ll be sharing the office duties with another temp who we’ve requested. Also, we need you to provide some support for our planning committee which is working on our annual summer departmental picnic in August. They need some help putting together fliers, getting people to sign up for various activities and such. You’ll have to spend some time going around the facility doing recruiting for the picnic and coercing people into bringing food and games to the party.”

Ah… I think to myself, a great way to look around for things that will help with the investigation.  I readily agree to her proposal.

---<>---

At lunch I catch up with Laurie, Aunt Jen, Mrs. Quinn, and Tiff (Tiff’s boy is off on some assignment) in the cafeteria. I’m the last to join the group and I find Tiff filling in the others of her progress with her co-worker.  Apparently he’s asked her out to the dinner and a dance at the local country club this weekend–probably the same one that Jim was desperate to find a date for. Apparently his parents live in town and belong to the club. Tiff’s pretty excited and the ladies are all giving her encouragement and advice. An expedition is planned to find a new dress for the occasion.

Eventually, the conversation gets around to me.

“Hey, Tina,” Tiff asks, “what’s this I hear about you landing a boyfriend?”

Dang! There goes that blush again.

“Ugh, well,” I hedge. “I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t think that we’re an item at this point. We agreed Saturday that we’d just be friends. I haven’t heard much from him since Monday.”

“Yeah,” Laurie pipes in, “I think he’s attracted to her too but the attraction seemed to scare him. I’m starting to think that he’s scared of her.”

“Has he ever had a girlfriend?” Mom asks.

“I don’t think so,” I reply. “He mentioned that before they moved here a couple of years ago he had lots of girls who were friends but I don’t think they were any more than friends.”

“How about dating?” Aunt Jen asks. “Has he done any dating?”

“I don’t think so,” I reply. “He seems to be content to be a loner.”

“I bet he doesn’t know how to deal with a real girl,” Tiff offers. “I bet he’s just scared of girls and doesn’t know what to do or say around one. It looks like you’ll just have to train him.”

“Oh,” Laurie informs the group. “The two of them got along just fine until THE MOMENT.”

I find that I have to relate to the group–more for Tiff’s benefit as the others got the story the other night–the whole tree climbing incident, including how I got lost in his eyes and went all gooey.  It’s embarrassing but they hang on every word with intense interest. Laurie fills in a few gaps from her perspective. In the end, they all agree that poor Andy is dealing with new feelings and opportunities which must be causing him great confusion.

“So,” Tiff asks, “are you planning on pursuing this relationship?”

“I don’t know where this is going,” I reply. “I really am attracted to him and hope that at the very least we can be friends and spend some time together. Other than that, I guess we’ll just have to see where this goes as it happens. There’s not much sense in making it very serious as I have to leave at the end of the summer.”

With this comment, the assembled ladies launch into a discussion on how I should proceed with developing my relationship with Andy. They have–apparently–spent much more time on this sort of topic than the average guy. I’m pretty amazed at the thoroughness and depth of the thoughts that are expressed. When I tell them I’m looking for a low key way to tell him that I’m interested in him they all strongly recommend that I don’t say anything directly–just send little hints indirectly. In the end, the experts convince me to just keep acting like a friend and to keep sending emails about our mutual computer and photography projects.  He has to reply sometime.  In the mean time, Laurie will try to catch up with him at the art store right after work and see if she can learn anything.

Before we know it, it’s time to head back to our respective jobs. It occurs to me on the way back to the office that I failed to tell them about my new job responsibilities. I guess that romantic relationships are more interesting than promotions.

---<>---

After lunch I ‘accidentally’ leave my cell phone in the break room again.  This time I try to leave it behind some canisters sitting on the counter so that no one will find and return it to me before it has a chance to do its job. Sure enough, about an hour after lunch, I see a couple of scientists that are friends of my Dad’s head into to break room for quick cup of coffee and a snack.  They are in there for almost 20 minutes before leaving.  Half an hour later, I drop in to pick up the cell phone and transmit the recording on to whoever monitors this stuff.

I spend the rest of the afternoon acting as a receptionist while simultaneously working on a draft structure for my new database project. Working on the programming project really makes the time fly.

---<>----

Sure enough, Caitlin is missing interval training tonight so Laurie drops me at the school on the way to get more art supplies. Coach Arnold adds some bleacher work to tonight’s torture session. We are running up and down the bleachers for half the workout. He tries to make it more interesting by appealing to our pride by making a competition out of it.  The idea works better on the boys than the girls. Testosterone seems to bring out the competitive nature in the boys. A couple of months ago I would have led the charge. Tonight, I find myself more interested in encouraging and helping my less able team mates to do their best. Don’t get me wrong, I still attack the challenges with some gusto, but my approach and motivation are now different.

I’m pretty wiped out by the time we finish.  Laurie is already back and watching us from the sidelines.

“I still don’t see the appeal in trying to commit suicide by over exertion,” she comments as we walk to the car.

“You just have to take the long view,” I tell her. “In the long view, it feels great to be in good shape, the health benefits are too numerous to list, you can excel in something difficult, and–best of all–it’s fun to watch other people try to figure you out.”

“Whatever,” she says dismissively. “About Andy, I managed to talk to him at the art store.”

“And–?” Eagerly I encourage her to continue.

“I think you’ll hear from him tonight,” she says with a knowing look.

“What,” I demand, “do you mean? What’s he going to say?”

“You’ll see,” she says, obviously keeping something back. It can’t be all bad from the silly grin on her face.

Further attempts to extract information from her are fruitless.  All I get from her is the same silly grin and “You’ll see.”

---<>---

As I exit the bathroom after a long hot shower I find a note on my bed from Aunt Jen. Apparently Andy called while I was in the shower and wants me to call him back. It occurs to me that I’ve not given him my cell number so he must have called on the house phone. Another quick plea to Laurie for what to expect results in another stone wall.  I just stick my tongue out at her and retreat to my own room, closing the door behind me.

On the second ring, Mrs. Lang picks up.

“Hello, Mrs. Lang,” I say, “this is Tina. I’m returning a call from Andy.”

“Oh, Tina,” she almost gushes, “it is so good to hear your voice. Let me go get Andy for you.”

After a minute I can vaguely hear the sounds of their voices in the background. It sounds as if she is giving him some advice but I can’t really make out what is being said. Eventually he comes to the phone.

“Uh, Tina,” he nervously asks, “how are you?”

“I’m fine, Andy,” I reply. “You called?” Why are butterflies having a pitched battle in my stomach?

“Uh, yeah,” he waffles.  In the background I hear a door closing. I imagine he’s taken the phone into his room. “I liked some of your ideas that you mentioned in your last email. We’ll have to try them out.”

“Yeah,” I reply in some confusion–we could probably have had this conversation via email. We spend a few minutes chatting about my ideas but hiding in the background of the conversation is another topic that Andy seems reluctant to bring up. Eventually the conversation about programming winds down.

“Do you want to get together to work on this?” I ask.

“That’d be cool,” he replies getting suddenly tongue tied.  There is an awkward silence.

“So, like, when?” I ask. Some more silence on the other end of the line. “Andy,” I ask, “are you still there? Are you alright?”

“Umm, I—I’m still here,” he stammers in reply.

“Is something wrong?” I ask with concern.

“Well, uh,” he manages to get out, “I need to ask you something, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

More silence.

“Yes?” I ask wondering what could be so bad. This is getting to be like pulling teeth.

“Well, you know,” he stammers again, “you remember how we agreed last weekend to be just friends?”

“Yes,” I reply, “I remember. I still want to be friends. I’m hoping you do to.”

“I do,” he said, “but I have a problem.”

“What is it?” I ask. “Maybe I can help.”

“Well,” he begins, “My parents belong to this country club in town. They are making me go to the club’s dinner dance Saturday night, and, like, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but, like, would you be interested in going with us? I mean, like I said, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, these things can be boring, but I think it’ll be better with a friend, and my mom thinks that since you’re a girl and all that you’d really like it and everything…”

“Whoa, boy,” I break in, “are you asking me out on a date?” Somehow, I wasn’t expecting this. Now I see why my sweet cousin was being such a pain. She knew and wanted me to be caught flat footed. Sure I’d love to spend the evening with him–but a DATE?  I don’t know anything about being a girl on a DATE. This date will be very public. Not to mention that I don’t know how to dance as girl. Heck, I don’t really know how to dance as a guy either. I really suck at dancing as a guy. What will I wear?

“Well, uh, yes, I guess so,” he continues to stammer, “Like, you know, you don’t have to, or anything like that, but I’d like you to, you know. I know we agreed to be just friends, but friends can go out on a date, you know. That’s what I’ve heard anyway–”

“Yes,” I inject into the rambling. In fact, I have to say it twice before he gets the message. When he finally gets it, there is a long pause.

“Did you just say yes?” he asks finally.

“I did, Andy,” I respond. “I’d love to go to the dinner dance with you. If you want, we can just be two friends at a dance.”

“You’ll go with me?” he asks as if he didn’t hear me.

“Yes, Andy,” I say again, “I’ll go to the dinner dance with you.”

---<>---

Thanks, once again, to Gabi for helping make this better

 

“Yes,” I inject into the rambling. In fact, I have to say it twice before he gets the message. When he finally gets it, there is a long pause.

“Did you just say yes?” he asks finally.

“I did, Andy,” I respond. “I’d love to go to the dinner dance with you. If you want, we can just be two friends at a dance.”

“You’ll go with me?” he asks as if he didn’t hear me.

“Yes, Andy,” I say again, “I’ll go to the dinner dance with you.”

Chapter 35: Date Preparations

After a few minutes of convincing him that–yes–I really will go on a date with him he arranges to pick me up Saturday evening. I ask him how formal the event is but he doesn’t really know, just that he’s expected to wear a nice suit and everyone looks nice.  That doesn’t help me too much so I ask to speak to his mother.

“Tina,” Mrs. Lang says, “you’ve just made Andy’s year. We’re so happy for him. We look forward to seeing you Saturday.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I reply honestly, “you have a wonderful son and the dinner sounds like fun. Can you tell me how formal it is so I can find something appropriate to wear?”

We spend some time talking about the event and it becomes clear that even my Alaska dress will probably not be up to standards. By the time we’re done, I have a pretty good idea of what to look for. Mrs. Lang suggests I let Andy know what color dress I chose so that he can get an appropriate corsage. This is a big deal. I ask about his suit so I can get him a boutonniá¨re.

After finishing the call, excitedly I shoot off a text to Caitlin telling her about the dance and ask her to call me when she gets off work.  Then I seek out my Aunt and cousin:  they are sitting at the breakfast table waiting for me, trying act as if nothing is happening. 

I casually open the fridge looking for something cool to drink. I reckon I can play the nothing is happening game as well as they can. Filling a large glass with fruit juice, I join them at the table and pick up the newspaper like I’m actually going to read it.

Laurie is bursting at the seams though she’s trying hard not to show it. “Well,” she asks, “what did he want?”

Scanning an article about some local event, I absently reply, “What did who want?”

Aunt Jen just smiles and shakes her head.

“What I think my obnoxious daughter is asking is,” she says getting to the point, “did Andy ask you to a dance at the country club?”

“Yes,” I idly reply as I turn the page looking for something else to read.

“And?” a very frustrated Laurie asks.

“And what?” I ask absently as I continue scanning the newspaper.

“Ugh!” she exclaims in total frustration. “I suppose I earned this. Tina, dear, did you accept?”

I can’t keep up the facade either and reply excitedly, “Yes! I did. Isn’t it wonderful? I can hardly wait!”

Once we get past the preliminaries, we launch into a discussion about preparations.  I’ve always known that girls put a lot of effort into preparing for a date–I do have two older sisters after all–however I’ve never fully appreciated the excitement that goes with the preparations. We discuss clothes–ALL layers from the skin out–hair, jewelry, makeup and nail polish. I ask about proper etiquette for the various situations I’ll be confronting. Both ladies agree to help me with basic dance lessons when I ask for help. Three days is hardly going to be enough time to get ready.

We spend some time going through my limited clothing inventory before going through Laurie’s more extensive collection.  She has a couple of dresses that might work and I spend time modeling them.  One she made herself for her Junior Prom which we attended together last spring.  It’s a flowing mid calf length powder blue dress with a really cute pick-up style skirt and a fitted bodice which hugs me like a glove, showing off my not-so-substantial chest assets and feminine curves. It is a simple but elegant dress that wowed me when I first saw her wearing it. It looks equally stunning on me but somehow wearing THAT dress seems to violate a sacred memory. How strange would that be? Me, wearing the dress that my girlfriend wore on one of our most fantastic dates. I’m having a hard time getting my head around the concept.

While we were in the middle of the dress search, Caitlin calls and says that she just got off work and is coming right over to help–whether I like it or not. She’s pretty excited for me. 

After exhausting the local offerings, our McDonalds girl–yes, she’s still in uniform and smelling of French fries–Aunt Jen and Laurie all encourage me to wear the blue dress but I baulk at the idea. It is the perfect dress–except for the fact that I’d feel as if I’m desecrating a sacred memory. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m thinking I need a dress which will make this date special in its own right.  The thought crosses my mind that Chris never thought in such terms so why am I obsessing over this like a girl?

We agree to go dress hunting after work tomorrow. I’ll have to skip running practice to do it. Caitlin is all for that. If she skips running practice then she has the evening free also. There are a couple of upscale boutiques in the area that stay open until nine o’clock so we won’t have much time. I’m half tempted to ask for a half day off.  I wonder if the Lab will pick up the expense for the dress and accessories?  After all, it is a mission expense, wouldn’t ya think?

Before we know it, it’s approaching midnight–way past our bed time. Caitlin’s parents even called her to find out if everything was okay.  As we wrap up the evening, I review the list we’ve made.

The preparations include: dress shopping plus the necessary matching shoes and hosiery, making a salon appointment for midday on Saturday, dancing practice, and ordering a boutonniá¨re. This is sounding expensive.  I swear, I’ll never complain again about having to pick up the tab for dinner and a show–when I get back to being Chris, that is. Part of me longs for the simplicity of being a guy, but there is a flutter of excitement within me at the challenge of making myself desirable to a certain young man.

After seeing Caitlin out, I stop by Laurie’s room as she’s getting ready for bed.  I hop up on her bed as she undresses and puts on her night clothes.

“Are you really okay with this?” I ask her. “I know we’ve talked about the possibility of me dating, but I’m worried that you’ll see this as Chris somehow being unfaithful to you. You know, I’m really having conflicts with all this. On one hand I really excited about going out with Andy, but on the other hand I feel as if I’m leaving you all alone.”

“Yeah,” she says, “I’m okay with this. I really think you need this experience. You’ll really come to understand what it is that I’ve had to do to get ready for our special nights out. Chris was always as little impatient with me just like every other guy is with their dates. You’re also gaining an appreciation for the feelings we girls get when asked out by a great guy. You are experiencing the same feelings that I’ve had for Chris ever since I fell for him. If anything I’m feeling just a little jealous.  Here you get to out on a date with a guy that really excites you and I’m left home pining away for Chris.  The one redeeming thought is that this is the country club dinner. While it’s a big deal for members of the country club, I’m told it can get pretty stuffy and boring. I’m not sure I’d go without a date who I really like.”

“I’ve heard the same thing,” I tell her, “over the years. Some of the guys I know whose parents belong to the club really dread this event.  I’m just glad that niether of our families have joined that group. From what I’ve heard though the girls really looked forward to it.”

“Oh,” she says, “they do. Girls all look forward to having a chance to get dressed up and go dancing. The thought is so romantic. The problem is most of the girls come back from this event with stories of loser boys and boring speeches. The actual event rarely lives up to its billing but the girls seem to always go in hopes that it’ll be somehow different this year. And just think, from both a personal and mission view, you will have a chance move things along with Andy.  I’d like to know what it is that made him so uncomfortable about being attracted to you.  Also, you’ll be able to do some spy stuff by keeping an eye on Dr. Lang.  The country club scene is all about social status. Maybe his contact will be there and you can spot him.”

“I’ll need to find a way to keep my cell phone with me,” I say. “Most formal dresses aren’t set up for that. Who knows what’ll happen. All I know right now is that a good night’s sleep will be hard to get tonight. I’m just so excited I could burst into flames and I don’t really understand why. Thanks for being such a great friend, Laurie. You really are a wonderful girl friend. I love you, girl. I feel as if I could talk with you about anything.”

With that we hug and part for the night.

Even though it’s late and I’m tired sleep is elusive.  I just can’t get over it.  I’m going out on a formal date with a wonderful guy. How much better can it get? I just hope that I don’t blow it by some gross breach of etiquette. I remember feeling like this the first time a girl actually agreed to go on a date with me as a guy. I was pretty excited at the time, but also nervous that I’d blow it somehow–just like I feel right now.

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You  know, I could really get used to this. While the chemical smell of the beauty salon is a bit much, I just love the feel of someone washing and fixing my hair. I’m lying back in a chair over a wash basin with Sam working cream rinse through my hair. As a side benefit, the scalp massage which comes with the treatment is heavenly.

It is early Saturday afternoon and I’m in the process of getting ready for my big night out. Laurie is in the station next to mine getting her hair worked on as well.  We’ve borrowed her mother’s car to drive across the valley to the Unique Style where I introduced her to Sam. We crossed paths with Tiff as we enter the shop. I swear I’ve never seen her looking so good.

“I see you’ve taken much better care of your hair, Honey,” Sam observes. “You only need a little trim to keep your current style–I still think we can do a lot more with this.  Have you thought about upgrading your style?”

“Yes,” I tell her, “I really like the layered look, but it would be difficult to keep it under control while running. I think I should stick with this cut for now.  I have been reading some magazines though and have learned a lot more ways to style it for different occasions.”  We spend the next few minutes discussing what I’ve learned.

“What I need today,” I tell her, “is something sophisticated. I’m going to the country club’s big dinner dance tonight and I want to look special for my date.  It only has to last for the one night as I have a race tomorrow and I need to pull it back into my running pony tail.”

“So,” she observes, “a Cinderella event.  One night of magic then back to the same old same old. Tell me about your dress and we’ll see what we can do to make the whole picture work.”

Thursday evening I had gone dress shopping with Laurie, Caitlin, and Tiff. While Tiff found something exciting, I just couldn’t find anything to match Laurie’s prom dress. Sure we found plenty of nice dresses that looked fantastic on me, but none seemed to have the magic of Laurie’s dress. Finally giving into the idea of using her special dress, we focused on accessories. 

I picked up pair of white strappy sandals with a three inch heel which goes wonderfully with the dress–I’ve already spent several hours in the shoes to get used to walking in them.  I’ve also had some dance practice wearing them and feel confident that I’ll be able to be sufficiently graceful in them tonight.

After much discussion, it was decided that a garter belt and stockings are necessary to make me feel as feminine as possible. A quick trip to a local lingerie store netted me the required items.  The light blue garter belt is complemented well by the matching satin French cut panty and strapless pushup bra which we bought to go with it. The stockings are a very shear white which will contrast well with the dress and match the shoes.  We ended up with two pairs of stockings–a spare for emergencies. I find myself wondering what Laurie wore under the dress at the prom last spring. I never knew what I was missing. I can guarantee you that Andy will never know what he’ll miss tonight.  The lingerie show is for my eyes only–or maybe Laurie’s too as she’s stated that she intends on helping me dress tonight. Oh, and Caitlin is going to help too.

The experts decided that none of my jewelry is really up to the task and are adamant that I need to get my own instead of borrowing from their inventory. I’m pretty sure Laurie hopes to acquire my leavings at the end of the summer.  I am insisting on wearing my special silver runner’s necklace even though there is universal agreement that it is not stylish enough for a night like this.  I don’t care–it says something about who I am.  I did relent on purchasing some silver chandelier earrings with embedded blue topaz crystals that sparkle when I move. A blue topaz and silver bracelet were added to the inventory–it’s a good thing we didn’t buy a new dress because the jewelry more than makes up for the savings! A thin silver chain with a heart charm will grace my left ankle this evening.  A white clutch handbag finished the inventory.

With all this in mind, I show Sam a picture of Laurie and me–as in the Chris ‘me’–at the prom last spring. I’ve worn the earrings to the shop, though Sam had me remove them for the treatment.

After studying the image and looking me over for a few minutes Sam walks over to the magazine rack where she digs around for a minute before pulling out one particular issue.  Flipping through the pages, she shows me several options for hair styling.  We settle for what she calls a classic elegant Chignon hairstyle–with the hair arranged at the back of my head–which will show off the earrings and my slender neck.  The curly tendrils that she leaves to frame my face are a nice touch.  Sam produces some fancy silver hair pins topped with small crystal flowers which will keep everything in place. Sam goes to great lengths to teach me the process so that I can do it myself later. It doesn’t appear to be all that difficult.

The resident nail artist gives me both a French manicure and a French pedicure.  My new strappy sandals will show off my toes nicely. The makeup job they do on me is like magic.  The same old Tina is there, but now I look very elegant and slightly more mature. I love it.

“You enjoy your date, Honey,” Sam tells me as we settle the bill–another major expense. “That poor boy won’t know what hit him tonight. I bet you’ll have to pick his jaw up off the floor when he first sees you. I must say I like this look much better than your tomboy look. It was a crime to hide your beauty that way. Come back again soon and don’t do anything athletic until after the dance. I’d hate to have you mess up our work before the big event.”

With those words of wisdom ringing in our ears we start the drive home to finish my preparations.

Back in the car Laurie gushes over the change, “My God, girl,” she says, “It’s a good thing you’ve already got a boyfriend–I hate to have to keep mine from you. You’re absolutely beautiful. You’re going to make a lot of girls jealous tonight.”

“I doubt that,” I respond. “I’m sure the rest of the girls are going to just as much effort. I’ll just be one rose in a garden full of them.  I know a couple of the girls from the running team are also going, either with dates or their families, and they’ve been telling me of their plans. I’m sure I won’t stand out.”

“Don’t count on it, girl friend,” she knowingly says. “While the other girls will work hard, most don’t have as nearly as much raw beauty to work with. You’re going to the Belle of the Ball.”

“Whatever,” I dismiss her enthusiasm. “Remember the prom? You were a vision of loveliness that night. In fact–for my money–you were the most beautiful girl there. I doubt I’ll match up to your standard. You know, I never fully appreciated all the work that goes into looking beautiful but–for all the work we’ve put into getting ready for this date–I still will never be able to match you.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” she replies, “but wait until we compare the pictures then tell me that.”

She hands me some heavy socks and an insulated box. Giving me her cell phone she indicates silently that she’d like me to put both of our cell phones in the socks then seal them in the box, which I do.  I’m glad for the chance to talk.  After a zero response to the planted data, the Major suggested in our phone call this morning that I bring Laurie up to speed on our concerns and enlist her help in leaking planted false data.  The question is, where do we get the data in her area?  We don’t know anyone who can help us in the Energetic Materials Center. I’m also interested in what she’s learned about Dr. Sommers.

“We’ve got about twenty minutes,” she says. “We’ve been so busy the past few days that we haven’t been able to compare notes about work. Have you come across anything new? With your new responsibilities you should be getting more exposure around the office.”

“A little,” I reply. “How about you?  Have you learned anything new about Caitlin’s Dad?”

“Some,” she says, “Word around the office is that–in addition to being a technical genius–he is an unusually kind and compassionate man. He also has a deep seated belief that we have a responsibility as a blessed nation to prevent the spread of oppression.  Word has it that he is passionate about his work because he sincerely believes that it’ll help keep the bad guys at bay. He keeps pictures on his office wall of the house rebuilding project which he was involved in Iraq and is proud of his efforts to help the oppressed both professionally and personally. Everybody likes him and has high regard for his integrity. I really don’t think he’s a problem.

“Rumor has it that his troubles with Mrs. Harrison started a couple of years ago when he refused the advances of a young female scientist who had a crush on him. Apparently the girl started to spread false rumors and at one point–after working alone with him late one evening to meet a deadline–she accused him of making advances towards her and filed a complaint. The scuttlebutt I hear is that the woman is a real bitch when she doesn’t get her way and that Dr. Sommers was firm in his rejection of her advances. The investigation came down to her word against his and nothing was accomplished. Mrs. Harrison apparently took the woman’s side in the hearings. Dr. Sommers and the woman no longer work together, but I hear that lately she’s been insinuating that he’s been loose with classified information. No one seems to be listening to her except, maybe, Mrs. Harrison. I’m pretty sure that he’s being extra careful not to make any mistakes. He really doesn’t want to go through another investigation. I really don’t think he’s the problem.”

“Well,” I point out, “there is information leaking from his research area.  Have you noticed anyone else who could be a problem?”

“It’s hard to say,” she replies. “Like you, I spend most of my time at the reception desk answering the telephone, making copies, and keeping the coffee pot full.  I’ve gotten to know quite a few people. When they pass through reception many of them stop for short chats. No one stands out in my mind but then I don’t really know what to look for.  Maybe this is all just a waste of time. What have you found?”

I spend the next ten minutes giving Laurie the condensed version of the experiment which I’ve been doing with planted information. I didn’t tell her where I got the information from and she didn’t ask.  I also said a few words about the conversation I’d had with her mother last Sunday and a visit which I had with Mrs. Harrison on Friday. This new information really perks her up. She feels better learning that maybe something is happening and wants to get in the game. I suggest we find a way for her to do the same thing I am.

Yesterday morning at work, I had gone to see Mrs. Harrison–after consulting with both of my Dads–when it became apparent that there’d not be any repercussions from my transmissions of classified information.  I told her about finding the apparently classified documents and how I had sent them on.  When I enquired as to whether or not she’d seen anything about it, she played the same thoughtful game that Aunt Jen had on Sunday. I took the lack of response as a ‘no’ answer to my question.  She probed me about the information which I’d found, where it was and how I had copied and sent it. While I was at it, I decided to repeat to her what I’d told Aunt Jen about the request for more information. This really got her attention. She followed that up with questions similar to those asked by Aunt Jen. The information flow during our meeting was pretty much one way.  She didn’t share much with me but asked a lot of questions. In the end, she counseled me to continue to ignore the request for protected classified information until further notice from her and told me to tell Laurie to do the same. I could tell that Mrs. Harrison was anxious to go do something with this information as she quickly ended our meeting once she felt she’d obtained all the useful information that she could from me.

“We need some more time to talk about all this,” Laurie observes in frustration as we near home.  “We only have a couple of hours before Andy comes to get you and Caitlin will be here soon to lend moral support for your date so we can’t talk now.  Maybe in the morning.”

“Can’t,” I reminder her, “I’ve got the 10 k race in Castro Valley in the morning. I should be free in the afternoon.”

“Amy wants to go to a new store in the Bay Area tomorrow afternoon,” Laurie tells me, “but I think we should be back by dinner time. By the way, Amy asked if you’d like to come with us.”

“I’d love to go,” I tell her. “I don’t have anything else planned for after the run. Caitlin has to work so I should be free.”

“Are you sure you can work us into your busy schedule, Your Highness?” she asks with a grin. “Maybe you should check with your busy calendar, Princess.”

Ignoring her jest, I say, “We’ll talk tomorrow evening.”  I extract our cell phones from their hiding place we drive up to her house.  Caitlin’s bug is sitting out front. So is Mrs. Harrison’s car. This should be interesting. Let the fun begin!

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We find Aunt Jen, Mrs. Harrison, and Caitlin on the back patio drinking iced tea. 

“Wow!” Caitlin exclaims when she sees me, “You’re just going to have to give me the name of your hairdresser, girl friend. You’re cute on any given day, but you look absolutely elegant today.  I’m really impressed. I really like the nails too. You’re going to knock him dead tonight! Ohhh… this is so much fun. I wish I was going to see what happens at the dance. I bet Andy’ll have to beat the other guys off with a stick.”

“You look fantastic, darling,” Aunt Jen adds.

“The transformation is amazing,” Mrs. Harrison says with admiration. “Our pretty flower has become a gorgeous rose.”

Turning the Aunt Jen, she says, “It’s been nice visiting with you, Jen, but I really need to be on my way.”

Looking me over again, she asks, “Tina, would you mind walking with me out to my car?  I have something for you.”

“Sure,” I reply. This is curious, I think to myself.

After leaving the house–and she’s sure we can’t be overheard–she tells me, “Tina, thanks for telling me what you did yesterday.  I can’t give you all the details but I really think that we’re on to something here. Your Aunt did some follow up on that phone call that Dr. Lang made last week–without consulting with the committee I might add–and it appears as if there might be a connection there. I don’t know how she found this out, but the guy on the other end of the phone was Dr. Lang’s lawyer–the very same one who represented him in the personnel dispute. 

“At first, we thought nothing of it, but Jen had someone check up on our friendly lawyer. I don’t want to know how they did it, but Jen’s investigator has uncovered his client list. It turns out that–for being a rich lawyer–he doesn’t have too many clients.  Almost all of the few clients he does have are people of interest to us at the laboratory for a variety of reasons. I’ve had to meet with him on multiple occasions when investigating personnel actions and the two of us don’t get along all that well. The guy is just too smooth for my tastes. He’s a devious one.

“From looking over the client list, we’ve discovered that one of the security team is on his list for some unknown reason.”

“Let me guess,” I interrupt her. “This security team member is one of those who filter the raw data for presentation to the full committee.”

“Don’t let anyone tell you you’re dumb, Tina,” she smiles at me. She continues, “The lawyer’s name is Mr. Harata Rana.  He is a second generation Pakistani American with a law degree from Stanford.  He is active locally in the Rotary Club and Country Club leadership.  He is also a presence in the Pakistani American political lobbying groups and has connections in Washington and Islamabad.  He is a confessed Christian–though not an active participant–but his parents are Muslim. Anyway, we need to learn more about him.  He’ll be at the dance tonight with his family.  He has a son your age, Aban, but you probably don’t know him as they actually live on the other side of town. Aban attends the other high school where he is an honor student. Mrs. Rana died last year of breast cancer. Anyway, we’d like you to find out what you can about the Ranas at the dance tonight.”

“I can’t very well carry my cell phone around with me,” I inform her. “My dress isn’t set up for that sort of thing.”

“I suspected that,” she replies as she hands me a small gift wrapped box. “Inside is a brooch that will go nicely with your dress. It’ll take care of the problem.”

“Okay, Q,” I reply with a smile. “What neat tricks does this baby have?”

Ignoring my reference to the James Bond series, she replies with a smile, “Oh, just the standard stuff. You know, omni-directional microphone, transmitter, miniature GPS device… Nothing fancy. We left off the explosive device and laser cutter.”

“Who’s on the receiving end?” I ask. “Hopefully not our suspect committee member.”

“No,” she replies. “Just me, Jen, maybe Laurie, and a recording device. Have fun tonight, Tina, but don’t whisper sweet nothings to your date unless you want us to hear them.”

“Gee, thanks,” I playfully pout. “How’s a girl supposed to have any fun with everyone listening.”

“I bet your mom wishes she could send this out with your sisters,” she laughs as she gives be a quick hug. “I’ve been trying to find a way to get Ben to wear one. Anyway, be a good girl and keep your eyes open tonight.”

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Back in the house, the girls notice my little present from Mrs. Harrison. 

“What’s in the box?” Caitlin asks.

“A little something Mrs. Harrison thought would look good with my dress tonight,” I tell her as I open the box.

“Wow,” four female voices exclaim in unison as I extract the bauble.

It’s some bauble.  It’s an oval shaped brooch with a large blue sapphire in the center of a field of tiny diamonds in an intricate silver setting.  If this is real, it must cost a king’s ransom.  Mrs. Harrison was right–this will go very nicely with my dress. Maybe not too well with my runner’s necklace, but leaving the necklace home is not an option for me.

I’m told that the schedule is tight, because we’ve only about an hour and a half to finish preparations.

First, I’m sent to the bathroom to soak in a tub of hot water laced with lavender bath beads. Great care is taken to protect my hair and makeup. After draining the tub and drying I powder myself with scented body powder and apply some matching perfume where instructed by my handlers–dabbing a little on my wrists, base of throat, behind the ear lobes, bend of elbows, behind the knees, and–embarrassingly–between my breasts.

Wrapped in nothing but a towel I head for my room where the other girls have laid out my clothing and accessories. Grabbing my new panties off the bed, I pull them on before dropping the towel–a little modesty doesn’t hurt, you know.

Working as a team, the girls hand me the items as I need them.  First the bra, then the garter belt, followed by the stockings.  After carefully rolling the stockings up my leg, I start to attach the straps.

“You haven’t worn stockings before,” Caitlin observes. “Have you?”

“You need to feed the straps through your panties or you’ll have trouble when you need to go to the Ladies’ room,” Laurie pointed out.

Fixing the problem, I see what they mean.  I guess I’d have figured it out the hard way. Taking a quick peek in the mirror, I think that I look like some kind of lingerie model. There’s not even a stir from Brain Central and do you know what? I don’t care. I like the way I look.

“Lookin’ pretty sexy,” Caitlin agrees as she sees me looking in the mirror.  I blush at being caught looking. “You better not let Andy see you like that if you want to protect your virginity, girl.”

Next the two girls have me step into the dress instead of pulling it over my head to avoid messing up my hair and makeup. Laurie zips the back. After the dress, Caitlin hands me a white half slip with some fullness to it. I guess it’s to help the skirt spread out some. I wiggle this garment up under my skirt and smooth the dress back out.

Sitting at the vanity, Laurie drapes a towel around my neck to protect the dress then hands me some blush to touch up my face and some lipstick.  Minor repairs completed, we remove the towel and turn to the jewelry.  Caitlin hands me the earrings which I deftly install–I’m getting pretty good at this girl stuff, if I do say so myself.  I’m already wearing the runner necklace.  I have Caitlin help with the ankle bracelet and Laurie with the bracelet on my wrist.  I have a new, very feminine, silver watch which I strap on. Finally, I manage to get my shoes on and stand before the mirror to inspect myself.

As we go through all these preparations, it occurs to me that–as a guy–I never would have thought to have assistance in dressing. Heck, dressing as a guy only takes a fraction of the time it took to get me to this point. In some ways, I miss the simplicity, but as I stare at my finished reflection in the mirror I know that the result has been worth the effort. I look hot. Not just hot–but really HOT–in an elegant sort of way.

Again, I think of the lack of warning bells from Brain Central.  I’ve been dressing in feminine attire for some time now, but nothing as feminine as this.  The sensations of the various clothing items are nothing like anything I’d ever worn as a guy.  And you know what–I really like it.  It no longer feels strange. It just feels sexy. There is no other way to describe it. You know, I think I like feeling sexy–in fact, I’m pretty sure that I really enjoy feeling sexy.

The three of us head back to the living room to show Aunt Jen the results of our labors. I’m actually surprised to see Mrs. Quinn–Mom–there also.

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Quinn,” Caitlin says–obviously confused by Mom’s presence.

“You must be Caitlin,” Mom says, “it’s nice to meet you. I just stopped in to visit with Jen for a bit after seeing Tiff off with her date.” Turning to me she looks me over and gets misty eyed. “It appears someone here also has a big date tonight. My, don’t you look lovely, Tina. In fact, you’re breathtaking.”

Laurie hands Mom the brooch and suggests that she pin it over my right breast.  The dress leaves my shoulders exposed as it only has spaghetti straps holding up the bodice. With shimmering eyes, Mom does the honors.  She gives me a hug and whispers in my ear, “I don’t think either of your sisters have ever looked lovelier, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous.”  I just smile back at her in return.

Breaking the moment, Aunt Jen pulls out her camera. “I just want a couple of pictures,” she says.

Couple, my eye! She takes loads of pictures–it’s a good thing we’ve gone digital.  The cost of film and processing would have taken the annual budget of a third world country.

Laurie is keeping watch at the front window and alerts us when Andy arrives.  I’m bustled back to my room before he reaches the door.  Apparently a girl should never be ready when her date arrives.  Poor Andy has to endure the scrutiny of the other women for five minutes before I’m allowed to rescue him.  Good thing that neither of my fathers are here or he’d really be in for it. I’ve watched what my Dad does to my sister’s dates. It may be fun for Dad, but it’s definitely not for the guys. It’s a wonder that Tiff and Marla actually get follow up dates. Come to think of it, Laurie’s mom did the same to me the first time I took her out but it didn’t have the impact of an imposing father figure.

As I walk into the room Andy’s jaw hits the ground–as Sam predicted–and he just stares.

“Hi, Andy,” I give him a nervous smile and a little girly finger wave. “You look handsome tonight.” He really does. In fact, just looking at him causes a warm wave to wash over my body leaving a warm moist feeling is a very private place in my new anatomy. I did remember to install the panty liner, thank goodness–and I’ve got spares in my purse.

There’s no response from Andy while the girls are gallantly attempting to hold back giggles.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.

I see his brain starting to reboot, as he stammers, “You… you… like, you’re amazing. I mean, like, you look absolutely gorgeous, Tina. I know you always look good, but… wow!”

I believe we’ve achieved our objective. The poor boy is stunned.

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Another masterful editing job by Gabi. Thanks!

 

 

There’s no response from Andy while the girls are gallantly attempting to hold back giggles.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.

I see his brain starting to reboot, as he stammers, “You… you… like, you’re amazing. I mean, like, you look absolutely gorgeous, Tina. I know you always look good, but… wow!”

I believe we’ve achieved our objective. The poor boy is stunned.

Chapter 36: The Country Club Dance

My heart flutters and my stomach is playing host to a butterfly convention as I pin the boutonniá¨re on his suit jacket. Andy seems equally nervous as he pins a white orchid corsage on the left side of my dress under the watchful eyes of my friends and family. Talk about pressure! He handles the pressure remarkably well as I’m not poked by the pin in any of the three attempts it takes to attach it to my dress. Of course, Aunt Jen’s camera is not idle through all this.

“Your mother will never forgive me if I don’t send her a few pictures,” Aunt Jen explains. I’m sure that a select few dozen of the pictures will show up on computers in both the Quinn and Jeffers households before we get to the dinner.  Isn’t email great?

A few hundred pictures later, Andy escorts me out his car. I feel like a fairytale princess embarking on the night of her life. It’s both a wonderful and a scary feeling.

He’s driving the same Honda CRV that we used on Monday. I suspect his mother has been giving him etiquette lessons which he is having a hard time remembering.  He almost forgets to open the door for me, remembering just before going around to the driver’s side.

“Sorry about the chariot,” he apologizes as he holds the door for me. ”My folks took Dad’s BMW so I got stuck with Mom’s car.”

“It’s great,” I say as I climb nervously into the little SUV. “At least we don’t have to walk. I don’t think I’d get too far in these heels.” Not to mention the dress, I think to myself.

He waits patiently as I try to bring my skirt under control–there’s a lot of material here and some of it seems to have a mind of its own.  My satin panties and nylon slip create a slick interface which makes getting comfortable a little difficult as well. I feel as if I’ll slip right off the seat: this dress is going to be a lot of work tonight. The heels aren’t making things any easier either–the things we girls do to look good. I’m beginning to wonder whether or not this formal date was a good idea after all.

As I wrestle the last vestiges of wayward skirt into the car and get comfortably settled, I comment, “Just be glad you don’t have to wear one of these things. They can be a pain sometimes.”

He blushes slightly–now that’s strange. He replies, “I don’t know. I think it looks really great on you. It’s definitely worth the effort, I’m sure. I mean, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” He just stands there staring at me.

“Umm, Andy,” I point out to him, “I’m all set. Shall we go?” This boy is really nervous. I suppose this is his first ever real live formal date. Come to think of it, this is my first real date as a girl. Maybe the rampaging butterflies in my stomach indicate that I’m not entirely comfortable yet either.

During the drive to the club, neither one of us knows what to say.  We’re not sure where we stand or even where to start figuring it out. We make several false starts at shallow conversation as we dance around the main topic both of us are really interested in.  You know, like, how he feels about me and how I feel about him.  Neither one of us wants to say anything stupid and blow the relationship. It’s awkward with a capital A.  Finally, I can’t stand it anymore.

“Andy,” I begin, after deciding to take the bull by the horns–I’m sure my relationship consultants are having a heart attack by now, “Can we just get to the point and get it over with? I just want you to know that I felt something special when you gave me a boast into that tree on Monday and you’ve been on my mind a lot since then. I mean, like, all that time. I think you felt something too. The feeling scared me to death and I can see it was a surprise to you too. The last thing I wanted when I came to California was to fall for a guy. Honest, I really don’t need this complication right now. I was looking forward to nice laid back, uncomplicated summer. But you do something special to me. I don’t know where this is going to go, but I’m willing to explore things a little if you are. From what I’ve seen, you’re a wonderful guy and I guess what I’m trying to say is I’d like to get to know you better.”  If nothing else, that comment should get the attention of my eavesdroppers.

As I say my piece, I notice that Andy’s grip on the steering wheel is getting pretty intense. His knuckles have turned white and I think he’d crush the thing if it wasn’t made of some pretty sturdy material.  All the blood has drained from his face and he’s broken out in a sweat.  Maybe the girls were right about taking it slower.

“Are you alright, Andy?” I ask with concern.  “You don’t look so good. I don’t mean to scare you. Look, I’ll just drop it if you want, but I want you to know I think you’re a pretty cute guy. I’m not planning on throwing myself at you–honest. If you don’t want to be more than friends, I’m good with that too. I just want to get to know you better. From what I’ve seen I think you’re someone pretty special.”

He continues to hold the steering wheel in a death grip and stare down the road. Maybe bringing my feelings out in the open was a really bad idea.

“Look, Andy, I’m really sorry,” I tell him with concern in my voice. I’ve probably blown it and I’m feeling pretty bad right now. My eyes are starting to water–something which is not allowed after spending so much time and money of this makeup. We’re not fifteen minutes into the date of my girl dreams and my big mouth has already destroyed it. I guess there is something to the girl approach to relationships. 

Andy pulls over into a mostly empty parking space on the side of the road and turns off the car. He is still staring out the windshield.  After a minute he takes a deep breath and turns to me.

“Tina,” he slowly says, “I was serious about wanting to be just friends when we talked at my house last week. But–to tell you the truth–I felt something at the tree too, and it scares me to death.  When you pulled away from me after I helped you up the tree, I was afraid I’d scared you off. You avoided me like I had the plague or something the rest of the hike. To tell you the truth I was kinda’ happy you did since I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings. Heck, I still don’t. I haven’t been looking for a girlfriend, but you’re all I’ve been able to think about this week.

“When Mom suggested that I ask you to the dance tonight, I didn’t think you’d come. It wasn’t until your cousin came by the store and told me she thought you liked me that I thought I might have a chance. Both she and Mom ganged up on me and made me commit to calling you. Calling you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I thought for sure you’d tell me to take a long walk on a short pier.

“Look, Tina,” he continues, “I’ve had lots of friends who are girls, but I’ve never had a girlfriend nor been on a real date. I don’t know how to do this and I’m scared to death. I’m mean, you’re an incredibly beautiful and confident girl and I can’t believe you’d even consider going out with a bumbling geek like me. Like, you’re way outside my league. I mean, I know how to behave on a date–theoretically–but I’ve never actually done it before. Mom’s been trying to tell me all week how to conduct myself on a date. I’ll try to do it right, but, like, I’m new at this. I don’t want to do anything stupid to scare you off. Tina, I’d really like to get to know you better too.”

He gazes at me with pleading eyes.

“Andy,” I reply, “I think I’m more nervous than you are. When I look at you, I see this wonderful caring and incredibly handsome guy who is way outside my league and I hope I won’t embarrass myself around you or be an embarrassment to you. To tell you the truth, I’ve never dated a guy before and I find this formal dinner-dance really intimidating. We could have started with something simpler, you know. I’m also afraid I’ll do something stupid which will scare you off.”

He loosens his grip on the steering wheel and color returns to his face. “It’s hard for me to believe you don’t already have a boyfriend back home or that you have never dated. The guys in Alaska must be really blind, deaf, and dumb–as in stupid 'dumb'. Anyway, I guess this dating thing is really new to both of us. Now we know each of us is scared of the other, why don’t we just try to relax and work together on this? Just let me know when I screw up and be patient with me.”

“Same, here,” I say. “Let’s just take it slow and easy and explore the relationship game together.  Feel free to let me know when I screw up too. We need to get through this evening without really embarrassing ourselves. It’ll be easier if we help each other.”

“It’s a deal?” he asks.

“Deal,” I respond, extending my hand. We shake on it.

“I’m still nervous,” he points out.

“Me too,” I say, “but at least we know where we stand. Heck, we might find we can’t stand each other by the end of the night. My Dad says that people rarely live up to our fantasies. Let’s just see where this goes.”

“Sounds good to me,” he says with a smile. “I hope I don’t shatter your fantasies too badly.”

As he starts the car and we resume the journey, I check my makeup in the vanity mirror attached to the sun visor. I’m really glad my tears didn’t overflow. I really don’t want to mess up my makeup.

For the rest of our relatively short drive we start exchanging basic information like favorite colors, foods, etc.  I find out that he is a fan of the color green, he has a thing for Cheetoes accompanied by a glass of cold milk, he likes suspense novels, and he wants to study graphic arts when he gets to college. I inform him that we must be made for each other as I’ve yet to meet anyone else who thinks Cheetoes and cold milk make a fantastic combination. He looks surprised at my revelation and agrees that he’s never met anyone with the same culinary appreciation. By the time we arrive at the country club, we’ve both relaxed considerably. 

Pulling up to the stately main building of the country club is intimidating. I’ve seen it before–in my previous life–but as we wait in the line of cars I’m still impressed by the facility. The structure is made to look somewhat like an old Californian Spanish mansion. When we arrive at the entry, a valet opens my door for me and helps me out of the SUV. I can tell the valet likes his job as he smiles as he attempts to discretely look me over. He must get to greet all the girls as they arrive. Andy comes around and awkwardly offers me his arm to escort me inside.

When we enter the building Andy produces two tickets to hand to a member of the staff who shows us to our designated table.

Dr. and Mrs. Lang are already there as well as another man, a young man with a pretty–if slightly overweight–girl in a green satin off the shoulder dress which shows more cleavage than I’d be comfortable with, and another distinguished looking couple who could be in their early 60s. The three older men rise as we approach the table.  The younger man is elbowed by his date and he rises too. This is so old fashioned, but kinda’ nice. Andy takes care of the introductions.

“You know my parents, Tina,” he starts. “I’d like you to meet Mr. & Mrs. Miller, Mr. Rana and his son, Aban. I’m afraid I don’t know your date, Aban.”

“I’m Laney White,” the girl says with a somewhat forced smile as she looks at me with a challenge in her eyes–I wonder what’s bugging her?

“Pleased to meet you, Laney,” Andy continues, “Everyone, this is Kristina Jeffers visiting from Alaska for the summer.”

“It’s good to see you again, Dr. & Mrs. Lang,” I respond demurely, “and to meet the rest of you.”

I reach for my chair to sit down, but Andy beats me to it. He gallantly pulls it out for me and eases it in as I smooth my skirt under me. I have to remember to sit up straight so my pantied bottom doesn’t slide on my slip causing me to fall off the chair. Once I’m settled the men all sit down again.

The table at which we are sitting is round and I’m seated between Andy and Aban. The fact that I’m supposedly from Alaska stimulates a lot of conversation.  Mr. Miller–a construction contractor of some sort–starts to regale us with his adventures during the rough and tumble days associated with the construction of the Alaska oil pipeline in the 70s. He asks questions about the current state of life in Anchorage in an attempt determine what’s changed since he left there in the late 70s. I remember enough of my Alaska lessons to sound as if I know what I’m talking about and he seems satisfied. Through all this, I notice Mr. Rana watching me with interest, though he doesn’t say anything. It’s as if he is evaluating me. It’s somewhat creepy.

We chat for almost twenty minutes before the meal is served. Fortunately, the focus shifts away from me as we begin to pick at our salads. I try to strike up a conversation with Laney, but she seems to be somewhat aloof and I don’t really get anywhere. Eventually I give up and just listen to the flow of small talk which flows around the table. The adults are obviously very familiar with each other and they quickly move on to topics which have little interest for us teenagers.

As we are waiting for the next course, Aban turns to Andy and comments across me, “Andy, old buddy, how’d you get such a beautiful girl to go out with you? I was beginning to think you didn’t like girls since I never hear of you dating or anything. I’m impressed. You hit a homerun this time, buddy. Tina has to be the hottest girl here tonight. Be careful, dude, someone just might try to steal her.”  That last comment doesn’t sit too well with Laney. Actually, the comment doesn’t sit well with me either.  The guy is brash and rude. It’s pretty obvious he intends to be first in line to attempt the theft. Looking over at Andy, I note he’s not particularly pleased either.

“Actually,” Andy replies, “I think you’ve done quite well yourself.” Speaking partly across the table to Aban’s date, he says, “Laney–you look lovely tonight.  I can’t imagine what you see in Aban, but I’m glad you’re here.” Returning his attention to Aban, he continues, “Tina and I are just good friends, aren’t we?”

You gotta hand it to good old Andy. He seems concerned about other people’s feelings unlike Mr. Full-of-himself, Aban.  At least he’s not treating us girls like possessions.

“Yes, we are, Andy,” I give him a quick smile before addressing Aban.

“And thank you for the compliment, Aban. I think your date is equally attractive. You’re a lucky guy to have her join you tonight.”

Somehow, Aban doesn’t get the hint that he needs to be kinder to his date and less obnoxious. As we work through our main courses, good old Aban continues to hold himself up as God’s gift to women and attempts–in his own twisted way–to flirt with me. It’s pretty obvious that Laney is starting to regret her decision to go out with Aban tonight. It also seems she’s holding me somewhat responsible for distracting her date.

I find myself feeling pretty full long before the food is gone from my plate. I’m not going to be able to eat it all. The guys don’t seem to have any such problem, in fact, Andy asks to finish off part of mine as I’m obviously not going to. I sort of miss the days of being able to eat everything in sight.  Soon–I remind myself–I’ll be a guy again and will be able to hold my own at the dinner table. Laney quits also long before the boys. She’s definitely having a tough evening. I can feel for her knowing the effort that it takes to prepare for a date like this one. I really want to talk with her to see if I can help her get over her animosity towards me. Maybe that’ll help her feel a little better about the evening.

Addressing Laney, I state, “I need to find the little girls room, Laney. Can you show me where it is?”

She just shrugs, but Andy points to a hallway and tells us it’s just around the corner.

I give Laney the girl look which says let’s go together. She doesn’t look as if she wants to go, but eventually shrugs her shoulders again and the two of us wander off together clutching our small purses.

As we get out of earshot, I tell her, “Laney, I really think that dress looks cute on you. The color contrasts your Auburn hair perfectly. Also, I want you to know that I realize what a jerk your date is being tonight. I really don’t see why that is. He should be proud that a pretty girl like you would go out with him.”

She sighs, “He’s right, you know. Like, you’re probably the prettiest girl here. There’s no way I can compete with you. You’re skinny and I’m pudgy. I worked all day to get ready for this date and he doesn’t pay attention to me at all. It’s like I’m window dressing or something. We’ve gone out a couple of times and he’s been somewhat of a jerk before, but nothing like tonight.”

“I feel for you, girl,” I commiserate with her. “I’m lucky to have a pretty considerate date tonight. You know, Laney, you don’t need to compete with me. Just relax and have fun. You’re a beautiful girl on your own right. You don’t need to be skinny to be beautiful. My favorite hobby is distance running which accounts for my being too skinny. It’s not like I’m trying to look like a starving waif from a third world country. I can use a few pounds. Also, I’m not trying to steal anyone’s guy. I’m don’t really need the complication of a boyfriend right now. And really, I do think you look attractive tonight. I bet there’s more than a few guys here who’ll try to sweep you off your feet in the dance. As far as Aban goes, I wonder where guys get off acting like that?”

We join the queue waiting for open stalls. Fortunately it’s not too long.

“His Dad’s the same way–if not worse,” she says. “I know a couple of women he’s tried to date since his wife died, but few go out with him a second time–if at all. It’s as if the world revolves around him. He used to treat his wife like a possession–I just don’t know how she dealt with it. I wonder if it’s some foreign traditional role thing.”

About this time a stall comes available and I duck into it.  Have you any idea how difficult it is to manage a big skirt and drop your panties to relieve yourself? It’s hard to do and keep everything clean and the procedure takes time. No wonder it takes so long for women in the bathroom. Once more I vow to be patient with women when I become Chris again.

By the time we complete our business and freshen up our makeup Laney seems to have overcome most of whatever was bugging her about me. We’re almost friends but I can tell that there’s still something bothering her.

Just before we enter the banquet room, she stops me and–after looking furtively around us–she says in a whisper, “Tina, I don’t know if I should tell you this, but you impress me as being a genuinely nice girl and I’d hate to see something bad happen to you. Anyway, I’m sorry for being bitchy at dinner. Also, I think you should know that I overheard Mr. Rana directing his son to check you out. It seems he thinks you’re not who you say you are, but I think he’s wrong. After all, you’re such a nice girl I can’t see you being deceptive. Anyway, girl, like, I just thought you should know.”

I give her a quick hug, “Thanks, Laney. I can’t imagine what he’s talking about, Anyway, it’s good to know.  Now shall we just go have fun tonight, girl friend?”

“Sure,” she replies with a genuine smile. “Thanks for being nice.”

“No problem,” I smile back at her. “We girls need to stick together around these clueless males.”

“You got that right, sister,” she laughs.

A much happier Laney joins the table for the dessert course.

Dessert is in full swing by the time we rejoin our table. As we finish, some important person stands at the podium and gives a longwinded speech which is more significant to the club members than to me. Looking around the table, it appears our other tablemates aren’t much more interested in the proceedings than I am–particularly the teenagers.

With dinner over, everyone finds another place to be while the staff does a quick change of the ballroom back into a dance hall. Andy and I head out through the patio area and onto the golf greens for a bit of fresh air under the starry skies.  Aban and Lancey tag along with us. Like he did at dinner, Aban dominates the conversation. His favorite topic seems to be himself with side trips into peppering me with questions in an obvious attempt to get me contradict myself about my past. I’m careful to not engage him in any kind of debate. Fortunately, I’m able to keep the responses short and sufficiently vague so it’d be hard for him to prove that I’m not who I say I am.  He definitely tests my knowledge of my legend to its max. I’m also having a hard time being civil to the guy. Daddy dear must have offered him some big reward if he can trip me up. He’s trying awful hard.

I’m not the only one getting annoyed with Aban’s behavior. Andy and Laney both look as if they’d like to bury the arrogant bastard in the nearest sand trap. I try several times to move the focus of the conversation off the two of us and include the others but to no avail. Aban seems like a smart young man in many ways, but he’s clueless in a social setting. Andy and I are happy to go when it’s time to head back in to dance. Unfortunately our tail follows us.

There are a number of tables set up near a bar and refreshment table in one corner and chairs lining the walls when we return.  A DJ is set up in the opposite corner.  The music is a mix of old 70s and 80s tunes with some newer pieces thrown in for the younger people and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.

My first dance with Andy starts out awkwardly. I find my heels to be a bit of a problem. Neither of us are well versed in formal dancing but manage better as the evening progresses. I think we both enjoy the dances where we get to hold each other.  I notice Laney and Aban spending a fair amount of time hanging out on the sidelines–she’s definitely not having a good night.  At one point I see her join a group of other girls while Aban is off somewhere.

Suggesting we take a break, I leave Andy and join Laney’s conversation group. I’m happy that I actually know some of the girls–at least I did in my prior life–from school. After introductions, I’m accepted into the conversation like any other girl and we all chat for a few minutes about the dresses the girls are wearing and the boys at the dance. Several of the girls are here on their own with their families and appear envious of those of us with dates. I notice a group of guys on the other side of the room–probably having a similar conversation about the girls as they glance our way.  The girls have also noticed them and are wondering why the guys aren’t asking them to dance. Having been in such groups before, I know just how intimidated the guys are by the large gaggle of girls chatting away.  There’s no way those guys will try to break into our group.

“Do you girls really want those boys to dance with you?” I ask the group.

They give me the what do you think, of course we do look as if I’m asking the obvious.

“They’re never going to ask if we all bunch together,” I point out to them.

“What’s up with that?” one cute little brunette asks. “It’s not like we’ll hit them over the head or anything.”

“Believe me,” I inform the group, “those guys are scared to death of us and there’s no way they’ll risk being embarrassed in front of their buddies–or a group girls.”

“How come you’re such an expert on what guys are thinking?” a petite redhead asks me.

“I’ve talked with my big brother about this many times,” I lie convincingly. “He had a real confidence problem around girls too.” Actually, of course, I’m talking from personal experience but that’d be too weird to mention in present company.

“Okay, Miss Expert,” another girl asks, “what do we do to get them to ask us to dance?”

“First of all,” I tell them, “We should break up the group and give them an opportunity to approach us individually. Why don’t you,” I nod at the redhead, “wander over to the refreshment table and make sure you pass close by the boys. Linger at the table for a few minutes and see what happens.  If a boy comes up to you, just smile and say hi and make a little small talk–build up his ego a little. Let him know that you’re not going to make a fool out of him. Just be nice. We’ll see what happens.”

The girl looks at the rest of the group for support and they all give it.  Taking a deep breath and fanning her face with her hands to settle her nerves she says, “Okay, here goes. Wish me luck, guys.”

I give her a hug for encouragement and whisper in her ear, “Remember, girl, smile.”

The rest of us watch as she follows instructions.  The boys eye her as she saunters past and a flurry of whispered discussion occurs in the group as they see their opportunity. Finally one tall boy prevails and leaves the group–also heading for the refreshment table. As he walks up behind her it’s plain that he nearly loses his nerve and glances back at his friends all of whom encourage him, mouthing, “Go on!” Our girl group is praying hard for the lucky girl. After some awkward conversation, the two finally connect and within minutes they’re out on the dance floor.

“Wow,” one girl exclaims in amazement. “It worked. It really worked. I’m next!”

In the end, most of the girls are successful but others aren’t. Some of the guys are just too intimidated to make the move. Grabbing the little brunette I drag her over to the few boys left.  One is Jim from the store.

“Hey, Jim,” I open the conversation, “Ya’ skin any polecats lately?”

He just stands there gaping at me with his mouth open. His friends look at him in surprise.

“Remember me, Jim?” I remind him. “The store–last Monday morning? You helped me pick out a pocket knife. The name’s Tina.”

“Uh, y-y-yeah,” he stammers. “I’ve seen you around tonight.”

“I’d like you to meet Missy here,” Yep, that’s what she goes by. Her real name’s Melissa. “Would you do me a big favor, Jimmy, and dance with her?” I use my sweetest voice and bat my eyes at him.

Missy is goggling at me wide eyed. The scarlet face would indicate that she’d like the floor to open up and swallow her right then and there. I know she wants to dance, but is too shy to make the contact.  So is he. Somebody has to do something.

“I’ll dance with you, Missy,” one of Jim’s friends says when Jim doesn’t make a move then leads her out on to the dance floor with a parting shot to his friend. “Jim, why don’t you dance with Tina?”

“Sure, why don’t you dance with me?” I ask, trying to look coy.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He nervously looks around as he asks.

I point out Andy who currently is dancing with Laney. “He’s busy right now.”

We dance for one song, and I suggest to him several other girls who’d love to dance with him. It seems he was unsuccessful in finding a date for the night and needs the encouragement.

As the evening wears on, Andy and I end up dancing almost exclusively with one another. I find that I really like being held in his arms. Occasionally we take breaks and wander out on the dimly lit patio and chat together. I can feel the barriers between us falling with every minute we share together. Our comfort level with each other is constantly rising like a gentle warm tropical ocean tide. Before long, we find ourselves holding hands or with his arm around my waist whenever we’re not dancing. I find myself looking for opportunities to snuggle up to him. He doesn’t seem to mind either. I’m starting to feel magic in the air, and become aware of Mrs. Lang watching us. She looks so pleased that she could cry for joy. Her little boy is growing up. This night is turning out beautifully. I wish I could hold on to this feeling for ever.

Throughout the evening I see Tiff, with her date.  Things don’t seem to be going that well for her; they seem friendly enough, but there’s some obvious emotional distance between the two of them. During one slow dance, I noticed his hand slide down to her bottom. Almost instantly she whacked him on the shoulder and hissed something at him.  Instantly, his hand returned to a more appropriate location.

As the evening is drawing to a close, Mr. Rana asks me to dance.  He’s really quite good and expertly leads me round the floor. It doesn’t take me long to relax and follow his lead.

“You’re not bad, Miss Jeffers,” he comments about half way into the song.

“Well,” I reply, “I haven’t done much dancing so you can’t expect much.”

Leering like a shark eyeing a meal, he informs me, “It isn’t your dancing that I’m complimenting, my dear.”

Oh, crap. What the hell’s coming now? I don’t like the sound of this one little bit.

---<>---

Thanks, yet again, to Gabi for polishing the story!

It's that time again–sigh–when I have to take a break to deal with everyday real life.  It's tough as my muse is screaming to continue.  I'll dabble as I can, but probably won't post again for several months.  I've roughed out five more chapters and–let me tell you–they're worth waiting for. Life continues to get more and more interesting for our heroine/hero with a few big breaks in the investigation plus coming to terms with girlhood with all it's relationships. Tina is soon faced with some big choices.

Thanks to all of you who continue to support the story.  I won't let you down!

Tiff Q

 

 

"You're not bad, Miss Jeffers," he comments about half way into the song.

"Well," I reply, "I haven't done much dancing so don't expect much."

Smiling like a shark eyeing a meal, he informs me "It isn't your dancing that I'm complimenting, my dear."

Chapter 37: Threats and Success

A shiver runs up my spine as I begin to panic. What exactly does he know about me?

“Uh, Mr. Rana,” I ask hesitantly, “Just what am I ‘not bad’ at?”

With the smile–actually it’s starting to look more like an evil grin–still on his face, he replies, “Miss Jeffers, I’m on to your little game. Don’t think you’ll get away with it.”

Now I’m really starting to panic which results in a misstep–I accidentally step on his toes. It’s a good thing he’s leading or I’d have stopped in my tracks.

“Oops, sorry about that,” I apologize with a wan smile as I recover my balance. “I told you I’m not very accomplished at this dancing thing. What game exactly is it you think I’m playing?”

I’m trying to act innocent but it’s not working. I’m sure that there’s guilt written all over my face.

“Ah…” he replies, “you’ve got that guilty look, my dear. You’ll never dig up dirt on my client–Dr. Lang–for Mrs. Harrison to use against him. I’ve done a little background check on you, my dear, and what I’ve found so far does not add up. While you have some recent school records in Alaska, I have not been able to find any record of the Jeffers having a daughter outside of a questionable birth record. Exactly who are you? And why has the Lab brought you in undercover? I haven’t discovered the answers to those questions yet but, believe me, I will–eventually.  I suspect it must have something to do with my client.  Why else would you be working in his division and why would you be chasing after his son who seems to have more interest in being a girl than in dating one? He’s not exactly the kind of guy who your normal popular young teen girl would find attractive.  Would you care to enlighten me on any of these questions?”

This is too much for me, so I just plain stop dancing as I try to regroup my thoughts.  He invites me to walk out to the patio with him.

I hope my handlers are listening to this closely. I’m not really sure what to say.  I’m just relieved he hasn’t connected me with Chris. He is, however, right on the mark about my being undercover, investigating Dr. Lang, and using his son to get into the household.  As Aunt Jen once pointed out–I’m not a very convincing liar. I decide the best thing to do is to keep my mouth shut.

Interpreting my silence as an admission of guilt, he continues: “What I was complimenting you on, my dear, was your success in ingratiating yourself to young Lang. You’ve also made quite an impression on his meddling mother. I’m sure both of them will change their opinions of you when they learn your true reason for working your way into their lives. You look pure and innocent but I’m convinced you’re just a good actress using people for your own purposes. Actually, your whole effort is a waste of time. My client is innocent of any wrong doing so there is simply no incriminating evidence to be found. However, I will not stand by and watch you hurt the family of my client, so I suggest that you break things off with Andy before they go any further and stay away from the Lang household. In fact, my son seems to be taken by you. Why not date him instead while you’re here?”

You knew this job was dangerous when you took it on, I remind myself as I gather my thoughts.

“To answer the last question first,” I begin, “your son is a very egotistical ass. Dating him is the furthest thing from my mind. I’ll admit he’s a good looking boy, but the image is destroyed when he opens his mouth.” I’m starting to see where Aban got that particular character defect.

From the frown on his face I see that my observation doesn’t go down too well.

“As far as the Lang’s go,” I plow boldly ahead, “I’m not any more impressed by Dr. Lang than I am with your son. He treats people with contempt and is unpleasant to be around. I would be happy to forego any further interaction with him. Mrs. Lang, however, I find to be a kind, caring, and ambitious woman who has finally seen her self worth. I honestly like her and hope to be her friend for a very long time. And what’s this comment about Andy? He may not be the hunky testosterone-emanating jock who gets a girl’s hormones raging.  Sure he wears his hair a little long and is interested in the arts, but what’s wrong with that? Anyway, once you get to know Andy he’s a real treasure. He may not be girl crazy but that’s okay. The two of us have found that we have an attraction for each other which neither can readily explain.  I wasn’t looking for romance this summer and neither was he. In fact neither one of us really wants the burden, but we feel compelled by our hearts to explore the relationship. For what it’s worth, I only got entangled with him because my cousin decided to ask Andy for painting lessons as a summer distraction while her boyfriend is away and I happened to tag along. Somehow, Andy and I just clicked.

“Yes, Mrs. Harrison is my supervisor at the Lab but that’s only because my Aunt got me a job there this summer when my parents decided I need a change of scenery. They seem to think that my Alaskan friends are leading me astray. So now, I’m just a teenage girl trying to keep out of trouble and make a little money this summer. What’s a sixteen-year-old girl going to be able to do to Dr. Lang? Like, I only recently discovered that Mrs. Harrison doesn’t really get along with him–and I learned that from Andy. In fact, in the past week I’ve learned that a lot of women at work don’t get along with Dr. Lang, so she’s hardly alone in this. My association with the Langs is only by circumstance, not by design. I’m not trying to do anything to Dr. Lang, but I am trying to get to know his son.”

I can tell from the look on his face that I’ve sown some seeds of doubt in his mind.

“Your past has some holes in it,” He finally states. “How do you explain that?”

“Do you know what my father does for a job?” I ask him.

“He’s an army officer,” he replies.

“Do you know what he does for the Army?” I ask.

“He’s a Major in the infantry,” he replies.

“Is that all you know about his work for the Army?” I ask. “If so, then you may need to dig a little deeper.”

“Is there more?” He shows interest.

“Yes,” I reply, “but I don’t know what it is. I probably shouldn’t have even told you that. I’ve been told that our family records are rather incomplete for reasons of national security, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

“So why did you really come to California for the summer?” he quizzes me. “I’m sure you could have found a good job in Alaska.”

“Why do parents ever send their kids away for a summer?” I ask in reply.

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” he looks at me with surprise. At least he doesn’t think I’m a slut.

“No,” I roll my eyes, “it’s because they’re trying to keep me from the influence of friends who they think are bad for me as I already told you. They hope that the wholesome influence of my Aunt and cousin will keep me from doing something stupid to mess up my life. I guess I’m just one of your typical messed up teenagers.”

He looks out over the city lights further down in the valley as he digests my comments.

“You’d better be right,” he says finally. “I’m not convinced you’re telling the truth, but your story seems plausible–like all good cover stories. You don’t seem like a screwed up teenager either, by the way. I’ve watched you tonight and you’ve behaved yourself like a proper young lady with unusual maturity. The results of my investigation, however, are pretty convincing that you’re not who you say you are, I’d still like to see you stay away from my client and his family, however, I won’t disrupt your game right now because I don’t have sufficient proof that you’re out to do my client harm. If you so much as breathe wrong, however, I’ll expose you as a devious manipulator and you’ll find yourself unable to complete your mission. I shall still warn Dr. Lang to be wary of you.”

“The only mission I’m on,” I tell him, “is to figure out why I’m attracted to Andy. That is, if you discount my parent’s mission to screw my head back on straight.”

With that, Mr. Rana escorts me back into the ballroom.

---<>---

Andy finds me by the refreshment table where I’m sipping on some punch and trying to analyze what just happened.

“Where’ve you been, Tina?” he asks. “I saw you dancing with Mr. Rana then you disappeared.”

“Sorry, Andy,” I reply, “Mr. Rana escorted me out on the patio to give me a few words of advice.”

“What did he have to say?” Andy asked with concern.

“Oh, nothing much,” I try to wave off his question. “He wanted me to know that my boss and your father have an adversarial relationship and he wanted to stress that I’m not to use your family to allow Mrs. Harrison to get to your father.”

“In other words,” Andy said, “he threatened you and wants you to stay away from me.”

“Something like that,” I allow.

“That guy’s a bastard,” Andy begins to get riled up, “just like his son. Actually, like my father too.”

I look at him with surprise.

“Let’s face it–Dad’s an egotistical sexist jerk,” Andy says emphatically. “You look surprised. I’ve known it all along–after all I live with him. I’m sure he’s the same way at work too.  Don’t get me wrong, he is my father and I do love him–after a fashion. Just the same, I can’t turn a blind eye on how he treats other people–particularly women. Someday, he’ll get his due and then maybe he’ll change, but I doubt it.” Visibly attempting to relax, he takes a deep breath and changes the subject, “The next song is the last of the night. My Lady, may I have the pleasure of this dance?” He completes his request with a bow.

“Why, yes, kind sir, I’d love to dance with you,” I reply as I smile and curtsey.

As Andy takes me in his arms for the slow dance, I whisper to him, “Please, Andy, hold me close.”

He willingly complies with my request. The warmth of his embrace thrills my heart.

---<>---

It’s almost midnight when we pull up at the Mercer home. Andy hurries around to open my door and help me gracefully exit the small SUV. We hold hands as he walks me to the door.

“Andy,” I say, “thank you for a magical evening. It was absolutely wonderful to spend it with you.”

“I had a great time too,” he replies. “I still can’t believe that the prettiest girl in town would go out with me. Can we get together again?”

“I’d love that,” I reply, “What’ve you got planned tomorrow?”

“I’ve got to open the store for Mom at nine,” he says. “I’m supposed to work until four. What if I come see you after I get off?”

“Oh… shoot,” I exclaim in frustration. “I almost forgot.  Laurie and I have some plans in the evening.  Let me see if I can change things around and get back to you on that.”

We stand there looking awkward as we both want what’s coming next but each is too shy to initiate anything. Finally I look shyly at him and ask, “Andy, would you kiss me goodnight, please?”

He turns beat red before leaning over to give me a quick kiss on the lips. I have to admit that I’m more than a little disappointed, but it does remind me of the first time I kissed Laurie. I just didn’t know how to do it. We’ve practiced a lot since then so I have better idea of how this is supposed to work.

“You’ve never kissed a girl before, have you?” I ask gently.

“Ah… no,” he is embarrassed to admit. “Did I do it wrong?”

“Well,” I admit, “I don’t have any experience kissing a guy, but I’ve watched a lot of movies. What I’ve imagined is that I put my arms around your neck like this, and then you put your arms around me. Yeah, something like that. Then we slowly put our lips together then simply enjoy the moment like this.”

The second kiss is infinitely better. I start to go all gooey again and I noticed part of his anatomy coming to attention as I press my body against his. I don’t really want to stop, but we finally have to come up for air. When we break the kiss we don’t let go of each other. I guess I’m really thinking like a girl now as I look into his beautiful eyes. I realize it never even occurred to me that kissing a guy was a strange act for a former straight guy. Right now, it just seems so right in addition to being so wonderful.

As I catch my breath, I tell him “Yeah, that’s more like what I was thinking of. How about you?”

“That was incredible,” he replies with a slightly glazed look in his eyes. “But I think we need more practice before we get it totally right.”

“So,” I ask with a playful pout, “what’re you waiting for?”

Kiss number three is even better. Yep, more practice sounds like just the ticket–particularly if the quality continues to increase at this rate with each kiss.

Unfortunately, someone turns on the porch light just as we get ready to start kiss number four. Embarrassed that we might get caught, we quickly step apart.

“Uh–well,” I say as I reach up to wipe some lipstick off his lips, “we’ll have to practice more later.  I have to get some sleep before tomorrow’s race.”

“Yeah, later,” he says in a daze. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

I give him another quick peck on the lips before heading inside. 

Aunt Jen, Mrs. Harrison, and Laurie are waiting for me in the living room with silly grins gracing their faces. It’s with a great sigh of relief that I kick off my shoes and collapse on the couch trying to ignore the knowing looks on the faces of the other women. Laurie offers to give me a foot rub which I’m more than happy to receive.

“So,” Laurie comments with a twinkle in her eye, “judging from state of your lipstick and your flushed face, I’d say your practice is going rather well.”

Ugh… I forgot about the monitoring device.  I hide my face in my hands. “I can’t believe you were eavesdropping.”

“Just doing our job,” Aunt Jen grins in reply.

“As was I,” I point out.

“It sounds like you really sacrificed yourself for the job. It’s a good thing,” Mrs. Harrison adds with a playfully evil grin, “we recorded it. Your kids should really enjoy this one. It’s not everyone who as a recording of their first kiss.”

“I’m sure,” Laurie points out teasingly, “You could give up your day job to give kissing lessons like that one. It sounded pretty effective. I’m sure boys’d line up around the block for lessons. I just wish we’d made a video of it. Nevertheless, it was pretty impressive coming over the stereo system.”

‘How much abuse does a girl have to take?’ I wonder to myself. “I’d tell you all about my date,” I inform my audience, “but it seems you know all the details.”

“You know,” Mrs. Harrison mentioned to Aunt Jen, “I wish I could use this thing whenever Ben goes out. Maybe I could keep him out of more mischief than I do.”

Laurie looks at her mom who is wearing a thoughtful expression on her face, “Don’t even think it, Mother. I will not wear that sneaky bug when Chris gets back.”

The two older women just laugh.

Putting the silliness aside, we spend about half an hour reviewing my chat with Mr. Rana. Everyone is convinced that he knows even more than he let on.  It also appears he knows more than he could find from a simple search of public records. There’s no indication that he thinks I’m anything other than a life-long genetic female, so wherever he’s getting the information from, his source either doesn’t know about my change or they’re not telling him. There’s also the possibility that he’s holding back from tipping his connection to the security team as they’re almost the only ones who know about my sex change.

In the end, we decide to sleep on it.  I get the distinct impression that Aunt Jen’s up to something and she’s working on an investigation of her own. I bet Mrs. Harrison is in on it too. The night’s recording is not forwarded to the security team as it did not come from my cell phone.  My cell phone was in my purse most of the night, so the security team doesn’t end up with much.

After helping me out of our dress, Laurie gives me a sisterly hug before heading off to her room. I have a quick shower as I get ready for bed.

Despite being tired, I have a hard time getting to sleep as I relive that last kiss. I find myself looking forward to more practice. To hell with Chris–I decide–I’m Tina this summer and I’m going to enjoy it. That’s why I’m wearing my incredibly sexy see-through pale blue baby doll lingerie to bed. I bet Andy would like to see me dressed like this.

---<>---

Six thirty seems to come earlier than usual. Note to self: don’t plan a race the morning after a late night date. Even after last night’s decision to be Tina, it’s still disturbing that my priorities seem to be shifting. It occurs to me that my note-to-self put the date before the race. Chris would have said: ‘don’t plan a late night date the night before the race.’

Staring in the mirror this morning is a frightening experience. My hair is a mess and I have bags under my eyes. The only bright spot is the silly grin that comes to my face as I recall how my date ended. A touch of makeup almost hides the bags and a few quick brushes brings the unruly hair into enough compliance to get it into a pony tail. Grabbing a bagel and a small carton of orange juice I get out front just in time to catch a ride with the Harrisons to the school where we are to meet the rest of the team at seven o’clock.  I feel pretty exhausted.

“Get in late last night?” Mrs. Harrison asks with a grin–as if she didn’t know. She’s obviously keeping Ben out of the loop on our joint activities. What I’d like to know is how come she looks so fresh and perky this morning.

“Yeah,” is my tired one word answer.

“It must have gone well judging from the smile on your face,” she comments.

Glancing at Ben who is sitting in the front seat with his mother, I decide to not to play along by getting into the details. I’m not sure why she’d want to torture Ben with that kind of information. It’d be bad form for me to gush about my date when I know Ben’s wishing he was the one I’d dated last night.

“Oh, yeah,” I reply. “It was nice. Very nice. Very educational too.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about it,” she says with interest.

“Later might be a better,” I remind her while glancing at Ben who is studiously looking out the side window.

Caitlin assaults me as I climb out of the car when we get to the school.

“Hey, girl friend,” she observes, “you look like death warmed over, but that grin on your face tells me things went well last night. Like, you just have to tell me all the details on the way to the race. You are definitely riding with me, girl.”

Caitlin has a stack of new running shirts in the back of her bug which she disperses to the runners as they arrive.  She apparently lost the bid for the fancy shirts and we have normal T-shirts with Laurie’s polar bear artwork on them.  The shirts are in the school colors–green and gold.  The girls get the gold–actually more like bright yellow–shirts with the artwork in green while the guys get forest green shirts with gold artwork. They actually look pretty good. I make sure my runner necklace is hanging out for the world to see. The rest of the girls have all managed acquire similar necklaces and have theirs on display also.

I’m not the only one looking as if they should still be in bed. Several of the other runners look pretty much the same way–both girls and boys.  I’d seen most of them at the dance last night so I know exactly how they’re feeling. Several of the girls join us and we start talking about the dance. You know the normal stuff: Who had the hottest dress, who was dancing with who, and all the normal gossip. I received quite a few compliments about my dress. There were a lot of questions about my date as well. I just smile when they ask if he kissed me goodnight. As it turns out I’m not the only one who scored a first kiss last night and those of us who did are over the moon.

Coach Arnold notices the run down looks and excited chatter amongst the girls. “Did we all have fun last night?” he asks with a touch of friendly sarcasm. “Somehow I don’t think partying the night before a race is good training technique.”

All he gets are groans as we load up in the cars for the trek to Castro Valley. The short half hour drive is not near enough time to discuss the date with Caitlin as she is full of more questions than I’d have imagined possible–and we’re talking at typical girl fast pace. I’m feeling much more awake by the time we arrive at the race venue.

We arrive with plenty of time to get familiar with the course and do a little warm up.  The way I’m feeling this morning, I’m starting to wish I’d signed up for the 5k race instead of the 10k–another odd thought from the supposed running fanatic.

It turns out that I’m the only girl from our team who’s doing the 10k.  Three of the boys–including Dan and Ben–are also. We spend some time together jogging through parts of the course to ensure we don’t get lost.  The race is going high tech this year with the introduction of disposable timer chips for electronic timing–that’s cool.  The weather is cooperating as well. There’s not a cloud in the sky and it has yet to get warm as it’s a chilly sixty degrees out–I’m going to hate taking off my sweats. Perfect running weather.

Eventually we line up for the mass start. Unfortunately our little team of four starts in the middle of the pack, but our small group manages to stay together as we work our way up through the pack. I actually find it easier to wiggle through the crowd as a girl. Nobody seems to take me seriously. The start is pretty flat and narrow so it takes a while for the pack to spread out. By the time we get to the first of several aid stations two and a half kilometers into the race we’ve pretty much established our rank. There are number of serious runners in the college and higher age brackets who’ve left us behind from the very start, but we find we’re doing pretty good in our own age groups. We’ve passed a lot of our age peers. I’m managing to keep up with the guys but it’s a struggle. As we reach the shores of Lake Cabot, the rubber band snaps. Ben and Dan leave me behind with the other boy. Eventually he drops back as well because he can’t keep up with me. On a long straight stretch I notice a couple of girls about my age up ahead.  I use them as a goal and settle into a pace which slowly closes the distance.

Before long we make the turn back towards the finish and pass through the second aid station. I forego the fluid and focus on catching my two rabbits, passing a number of other runners in the process. The girls appear to be evenly matched.  One–she’s wearing yellow running shorts–glances back when she hears my approach with three kilometers to go. She looks surprised to see some competition and let’s her cute partner in black running shorts know they have company. We’re all feeling the strain by now but the adrenaline rush the girls get from the surprise competition raises their pace. The sprint doesn’t last long and I’m able to pull even with them with two kilometers to go. I give them a smile and a little wave as I join them.  They just each give me an evil stare. We settle into a fast pace as we run together for a little while.  I can see them getting ready to make their move. The girl in the yellow shorts crowds me at the last corner in a thinly disguised effort to push me off course while the other takes off in a sprint.  I’m able to side step the block and actually gain an advantage. Deciding it’s time to end the game, I pull out the stops and quickly catch and pass the other girl when she can’t sustain the sprint.

As I near the finish line, I see a number of our team cheering me on. The other two girls are within striking distance but don’t have what it takes to catch me.  Giving it a great last push, I cross the finish line a full ten yards ahead of the girl in black shorts to finish first in our age and gender group. Her friend is only steps behind her.

I almost collapse as I try to catch my breath after crossing the line.  A tired but happy and sweaty Dan grabs me in a big hug before we’re swamped by most of the rest of the team. They help me walk it off as they excitedly congratulate me on a great finish.  I look over at the other two girls I beat at the end. They don’t seem very happy. Excusing myself from the victory party, I go over to them and give each a little friendly girl hug and congratulate them on a great run. They want to know where I came from as they thought they knew all the top runners in the area.  I detect some relief when they learn I won’t be competing against them in the school competitions.

It turns out that Dan finished fourth amongst his peers and Ben finished a surprising eighth. Ben’s finish was surprising because he’s always been an under achiever in the past and he proved it by beating his personal best time by several minutes. His mom finished fifth in the very competitive older women’s category. She had left us behind early in the race. Caitlin was also surprising.  She finished first among our girls in the 5k and fourth in her age group. The other kids also did well and everyone is happy. All in all, it was a great first outing for our little team.

We hang around for the awards ceremony where I pick up my medal. I am announced as Kristina Jeffers from faraway Anchorage, Alaska which garners several oohs and ahhs. After the awards ceremony there’s a barbecue with live music. The organizers really turned the event into a party. Quite a few of the runners congratulate me on my run as we mingle with the other participants.

Unfortunately, Caitlin had to leave early to make it to her shift at ‘McHell’–as she affectionately calls her employer–so I get a ride home with Mrs. Harrison.  Ben went to ride with Dan who drove himself and some of the other runners, so Mrs. Harrison and I are alone in her car.

I dig in my day pack and extract the brooch from last night. “Here’s the brooch. I should have returned it last night. Everyone was impressed by it.”

She smiles as she accepts it from me, “I know. I heard them all.”

“Tina,” she says with motherly concern in her voice, “I’ve been thinking about last night. I’m worried about Mr. Rana’s threats. He knows something about you that he’s not telling and I’m not sure what he might do were you to cross him. I’m thinking we might have to find another way to investigate Dr. Lang. In fact you’ve gathered enough circumstantial information for us to take over the investigation on him. We don’t want you to be in harm’s way.”

“So,” I ask for clarification, “what you’re saying is that you want me to quit seeing Andy and stay away from Dr. Lang at work?”

“Umm–yeah,” she squirms a bit, “something like that. I’d hate to see something bad happen to you. I’m also thinking of transferring you.”

Tears come unbidden to my eyes. “You know if I found some hard evidence of espionage it’d really cut short your investigation and maybe save more information from leaking out. I think I should stay on the case. I don’t think he’d do anything physical.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Mrs. Harrison contradicts me. “We didn’t tell you this last night after you got home, but while you were out last night we learned that Mr. Rana has been in the shadows of some really nasty incidents resulting in physical harm–including death–of some key people. No one can connect him to anything but his name keeps popping up on the wrong side of the investigations in a tertiary form. We don’t know what his involvement is, but his client base consists of several suspicious people and others who’ve been the brunt of a number of bizarre accidents.”

“Are the Langs in any danger?” I ask.

“We don’t know,” she honestly responds, “as I said, the picture is pretty fuzzy right now. While we have a good team working on the investigation, it will be a while before we get more definitive information. I’m just worried that if Mr. Rana thinks you’re getting in his way, he might just try something more drastic than just exposing you as a spy.”

“Look, Mrs. Harrison,” I plead in my best little girl voice, “please let me continue. I’m just now getting into the Lang household where I can do some real good. I promise to keep my cell with me at all times so you can track me. I’ll let you know what I’m doing. I’ll do whatever you want, just please let me continue. Pretty please?”

She laughs, “The pleading puppy look won’t work on me, Sweetie. Remember, I was once a young girl too. I know the tricks and had a lot more practice at than you’ve had. By the way, the sad little girl act works better with a frilly dress and a bow in your hair. The sweaty track suit kinda’ destroys the image. Anyway, don’t you think you might just be letting your new hormones cloud your judgment?  Any relationship with Andy can only end in heartache and you know it. My advice is to break it off now before things get really serious. You’ll end up hurting each other more if you keep this up.”

“Too late,” I reply.

“What do you mean, ‘too late’?” she asks.

“I mean,” I explain, “that we’ve already formed a strong bond and even breaking up now will be painful. Plus, I don’t have a reason to give him for the breakup.”

“Girls don’t need a reason to break up,” she says. “We just do it. It’s part of what keeps men guessing. Believe me, it’s a good thing to keep men guessing about what we’re thinking.”

Taking a deep breath, I plead my final case, “Mrs. Harrison, if the Langs are in any danger, then I’m probably on the same list. Mr. Rana made it pretty clear that he associates me with the Langs. Pulling me now might limit my exposure, but it won’t eliminate it. I might as well stay in the game. You really need someone on the inside to keep an eye out for things which will help the investigation. My attachment to Andy only strengthens my case. As an accepted part of their lives, I’m in the best position to discover any wrong doing. Also, pulling me now–both from the Langs household and from work–will send a message to Mr. Rana that he was right about me and might expose the whole operation. It’ll be essentially admitting guilt. It’ll expose your role in the investigation more fully. As I see it, you have more to lose by pulling me out than leaving me in.”

She thinks about my arguments for a few minutes before commenting. “You make some significant points, Tina, but I’m still worried for your safety. Let me talk to a few people about this.”

“So, you’ll let me continue?” I inquire hopefully.

“Yes,” she sighs, “for now. Just make sure you keep your ‘practice’ sessions with Andy under control.”

“Ah–” I smile back, “that might be the hardest part––”

---<>---

 The current drought is over. We're back as ChrisTina's adventure continues.  I'll TRY to finish it before the next break. Honest!

Thanks again to the fabulous Gabi for preserving the English language from an assault on its character by my writing efforts.

She thinks about my arguments for a few minutes before commenting. “You make some significant points, Tina, but I’m still worried for your safety. Let me talk to a few people about this.”

“So, you’ll let me continue?” I hopefully inquire.

“Yes,” she sighs, “for now. Just make sure you keep your ‘practice’ sessions with Andy under control.”

“Ah–” I smile back, “that might be the hardest part––”

Chapter 38: A Quiet Evening

I’m in the middle of slipping into yet another dress as my cell phone starts moaning. I’ve got to get rid of the stupid sick moose ringtone.

Digging into my purse I find the offensive cell phone and answer the call, “Hello?”

“Hey, Tina,” Andy’s voice purrs in my ear. A wave of excitement surges through my body as my world focuses on that wonderful male voice. I really need to work on some self-control!

“Andy!” I squeal excitedly.  ‘Keep it under control, girl,’ I remind myself.

“What ya’ doin’?” He asks.

What I consider replying is: I’m in a changing booth standing here in nothing but my underwear, but figure that might be a little too graphic. What comes out is: “I’m at a new clothing shop in Dublin with Laurie and Amy. How about you?”

“I just got off work and wondered if you’d like to go do something, but you sound busy.” I can hear the disappointment in his voice and it tugs at my heart-strings.

“Actually, we’re just about done,” I reply hurriedly to give him hope. Actually we’re not, but I’ll make sure the other girls get moving. “I’d really like to see you again. I think we’ll be home in about an hour then I have a couple of chores to take care of.  I could be ready, let’s say, about six thirty. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure,” he replies. I sense his hope returning. “I can wait until then. I’ll pick you up at your Aunt’s house then we can grab something to eat on our way to hang out at this cool local park–it’s called Shadow Cliffs–and maybe swim a little.”

“I’d love to,” I reply with a happy chirp in my voice. “I’ll be ready at six thirty!”

“How’d your race go?” he asked. How like him to think of me. I wonder if I was ever this thoughtful with Laurie.

“Pretty good, considering how much sleep I didn’t get last night,” I laugh, “I’ll tell you all about it tonight. Right now I’ve got to go help the other girls. I’ll be waiting for you at six thirty.”

With that, we say our goodbyes. I can’t resist making a kissing noise into the phone before hanging up.

“So you have another date tonight?” Laurie comments from the next stall over. There’s not much privacy in the dressing rooms.

“Oh, yeah,” I exclaim happily.

“Don’t you just hate new love?” Amy remarks to Laurie from where she’s examining a top in front of the mirror. “The happiness is overwhelmingly depressing. Somebody needs to dump some cold water on that girl. She’s been antsy all afternoon.”

I guess I may have mentioned Andy and our date once or twice in the course of the afternoon and my favorite phrase when looking at clothes is do you think Andy would like this?

“She reminds me of you, Laurie, when you fell for Chris,” Amy continues. “It’s disgusting.”

“Kinda’ like when you had a crush on that geek in our freshman year?” Laurie reminds her, “You know, Gerald, or whatever his name was.”

“Don’t remind me,” Amy moans while rolling her eyes, “It was Jerry and he turned out to be such a loser.”

Breaking into the conversation as I step out of the booth–with clothes on I might add–I ask, “Are we about done here, girls. I’ve some place to be.”

I duck quickly with a squeal as both girls throw hangers at me.

In the end I only purchase one baby doll style top with a square neckline.  I’m beginning to really like this style of top.  They are cute, feminine and modest as they extend down to crotch level–no bare midriff. I think I’ll wear it tonight.

Both my fellow shoppers appear to delight in my anguish as they meander through the store as if they have all day. My efforts to speed up the process only cause them to go slower. They seem to be taking pleasure in my suffering.

Finally, we arrive home about five o’clock and I rush up to my room to get ready.  I boot up my computer as I strip down to change my clothes. I’ve decided to wear my swim suit under a pair of shorts and my new top.  After a brief moment of indecision, the tankini top gets left in the drawer in favor of my bikini top. I hope Andy will enjoy the view.

Into my large beach bag go a pair of panties and a bra to change into later along with a towel and sunscreen.

By now the computer is up and I take some time to do my belated weekly check on Chris’s email.  Yep, there’s the usual batch from my parents and sisters. I’ve also got one from Laurie and another from Dan.

The one from Laurie is pretty soppy. She sounds as if she really misses Chris. Some of the things she wrote she hasn’t mentioned to me as Tina. There’s quite a bit of anguish and longing in her writing. Keep it up, girl, I think to myself.  There’s hope that she’ll be happy to have me back as Chris. She also gives her view of her cousin’s budding romance. She seems happy for Tina though it reminds her of what she’s missing.

Wait a minute here. I think I’m really becoming schizophrenic. On the one hand I’m Chris, madly in love with Laurie. On the other hand I’m Tina in the process of falling for Andy. This doesn’t seem to be a problem for Brain Central. It’s like I’m two totally different people. I wonder briefly if this is going to be a problem at the end of the summer.

Dan’s email goes on about some of the things he’s doing in his summer job for the local parks and recreation department. He spends most of his time mowing lawns and trimming vegetation. He mentions a date he had with Suzie on Friday night. It seems as if things are back to normal there. His Tina update is fairly benign this week. He does mention that it is uncanny how Tina acts a lot like Chris using Monday’s run as an example.

“It’s freaky, dude,” he writes, “how she know all your favorite runs and high fives me after each one, just like you used to do. It’s like you turned into a girl, dude.  How strange is that?”  If you only knew, buddy.

I’m hammering out the last of my replies when the doorbell rings. I haven’t even gotten as far as checking on Tina’s Alaska fan club yet.

Laurie pokes her head in my door, “Lover boy’s here, Tina. Don’t stay out too late, we need to talk tonight.”

“Tell him that I’ll be right there,” I answer, “We’ll be back early, I promise.”

I add some basic makeup to the other supplies in my bag and slip on some sandals.  Glancing in the mirror, I decide to leave my hair down so I take a few quick brush strokes to get it under control then clip it back on the sides to keep it out of my face. Another hair style I saw in Seventeen. I think it looks cute.  Adding some mascara and lip gloss finishes my preparations.

Rushing into the living room, I find Aunt Jen quizzing my date. He seems to be patiently answering her questions but I’m sure he’d like to be elsewhere. I remember the experience from the first time I dated Laurie–you know, the normal protective parent thing.  Aunt Jen didn’t get the chance last night so she’s making up for it now. I’m just in time to hear her drop the comment about how tough my father is and how it’d not be good to get on his bad list by treating his daughter poorly.  I just roll my eyes and rescue the poor boy before it gets any heavier.

Andy is looking much more casual tonight. He’s wearing some long swim trunks, a T-shirt, and sandals–typical California casual. Even though he’s not dressed up, my heart flutters at the sight of him.

“That was intense,” he comments once we’re away from the front door.

“Yeah,” I agree, “I think it’s in the job description for a girl’s parents to scare the daylights out of any boy who comes near. I’ve seen it before. And Aunt Jen’s right, my father’s a Major in the Army and you really don’t want to get on his bad side.”

“Thanks a lot,” he sighs as he hold the car door for me, “nothing like pressure! Oh, by the way, you look very pretty this evening.”  Which comment earns him a quick kiss.

I talk Andy into swinging by McDonalds as Caitlin should be getting near the end of her shift. On the way there, Andy asks more about my race this morning and I give him the play by play details.  He seems impressed with my win.

Caitlin is still working the counter as we walk hand-in-hand in the door. I’m not real sure why I want to come here. Maybe it’s to show Andy off. Whatever the reason, here we are. I watch Caitlin serve several customers before we get to the head of her line. I have to say, she looks a lot more comfortable than she did the first time I met her here a few weeks ago. She seemed to take a genuine interest in serving her customers. At least she’s being very professional about it.  She really looks like she knows what she’s doing. A real change.

“Hey, girl friend,” she greets us with a smile as she prepares to take our order, “And hello to you too, big guy. What can I get for the lovely couple?”

After taking our orders and getting them ready, she asks, “Tina, where’re you two off to tonight?”

“We thought we’d go to some park called Shadow Cliffs and do a little swimming or hang out on the beach,” I tell her.

“Um, sounds romantic,” she winks at me. “You’ll like Shadow Cliffs. Give me a call later tonight when you get home, girl friend.”

We arrive at the park fifteen minutes later to find it moderately busy. We have no difficulty in finding a shady tree away from the main beach area and all its people.  It’s the perfect place for a private picnic with our McDonalds’ meals. We sit close to each other as we eat and talk. It’s still quite warm–almost hot–even though the temperature is dropping as the sun reaches out for the horizon. The shade feels nice.

Chatting with Andy seems like the most natural thing in the world. Initially we are both a bit nervous about how we should act, but we soon realize we just like being around one another. We talk about everything and nothing at all. As the conversation slips by I’m feeling myself enjoying being in his presence more and more–if that’s possible. The smile on my face must have communicated this to him.

“Tina,” he says, “you’re really cool. I really like being with you. I hope we can do this more often.”

“Me too,” I tell him. “You’re an amazing guy. I get a really good feeling when you’re around. You know what I like best?”

“What’s that?” he asks.

“I liked it when you held me last night,” I drop the hint.

“You mean like this?” he asks as he puts his arm around me and pulls me close so that we’re sitting snuggled up together side by side on the grass.

“Yeah,” I tell him as I snuggle in, put my head on his broad shoulder and inhale a deep breath of his manly smell, “Like that.”

We sit snuggled together just enjoying the feel of each other in silence for several minutes.

“Tina,” he gets my attention.

“Umm–” I purr contentedly in reply to let him know that I’m listening.

“Where are we going with this?” he asks idly.

I just snuggle in closer–if that’s possible–before replying, “I don’t know. Where do you want it to go?”

“Honestly,” he replies, “This is new territory for me. I’ve never viewed myself as having a girlfriend before. I just want you to know that you’ve turned my world upside down. I think I like it but I’m confused right now. Can we take this slow? I’d hate to do something stupid which we’ll both regret later.”

Pulling away just enough to look into his beautiful hazel eyes, I give him a soft kiss before replying.

“I agree with you,” I reply sincerely. “I just want to enjoy the moment. But we really shouldn’t get carried away. Slow sounds right. And, like, what do you mean I’ve turned your world upside down?”

He blushes slightly and evasively says, “Let’s just say for now that I thought I knew what I wanted in some aspects of life, but now I’m not so sure. Let’s leave it at that for now.”

With that, we spend the rest of our evening cuddling on the grass quietly talking about our pasts–with some modification on my part–and hopes for the future–also somewhat modified in regards to me–and enjoying the occasional kiss. His little secret is in the background and starts to tickle my curiosity but I leave it alone. Often the conversation lulls but we’re just contented to be together and enjoy the feeling. I know I should be trying to learn more about his father’s activities but reason that I can do that later. For now we dwell on happy thoughts and memories and strengthen our ties. Nothing that my handlers will find interesting when they listen to the recording my cell phone is making.

Somewhere along the line, I must have dozed off as I find myself being awakened by a gentle kiss. “Hey, good lookin’, we need to get you home. You had a short night and a long day.”

“Ummm–” is all I say as I try snuggling closer.

“Come on, sleepy head,” he laughs. “As much as I enjoy holding you, they’re about to close the park and we don’t want to get stuck here all night.”

“Speak for yourself, buddy,” I grump, “I like where I am just fine. Being stuck here sounds great. You’re so warm and comfortable.”

“Ah,” he jokingly says as he tickles my sides, “I’m just your big teddy bear. Now I see what I’m good for.”

“Hey! Watch it buddy.” I squeal as I wiggle out from under his arm to avoid his annoying fingers.

As we walk back to his car holding hands. He points out, “You know, we never went swimming.”

“That’s okay,” I reply, “I enjoyed what we did.”

“I guess we’ll have to try again sometime,” he says obviously working up to another date. “How about tomorrow evening?”

We do have running practice tomorrow I find myself thinking. Caitlin I’m sure wants to get together, but that can wait another day. I also start thinking about the mission. I wish those thoughts would go away. I need to get integrated into his household.

“You know,” I suggest, “I’d like to learn some more about web pages. Would it be alright if we spent the evening at your house doing that?”

He frowns at that, “I suppose we could. My parents will be home and it could get a bit unpleasant.  While Dad thinks it’s great that I have a girlfriend, he doesn’t really want me seeing you. He still thinks you’re some kind of spy out to get him.”

“Well,” I inform him, “I can’t change his opinion of me with getting to know him. I’ll try to be nice and sweet instead of my usual nasty self.”

He laughs, “I don’t think you could do nasty if your life depended on it. I’ll check with my folks when I get home and let you know.”

When we get to my summer abode, he escorts me to the door. I wrap my arms around him and give him a long deep kiss. I can feel the passion building on both sides. If this keeps up I’ll end up dragging him into the bushes. These hormones are hard to control. Breaking the kiss, I say, “I really enjoyed the evening. But, I think we need to take it easy with the making out or we might do something we both will regret.”

“I agree,” he says as he tries to cool his hormones down. “When we kiss like that it’s all I can do keep my hands where they belong. It’s also hard to stop.”

Glancing at him discreetly, I become aware of his excitement in other areas as well. Believe me, I understand his control problems. Been there, done that. I’m also starting to understand the control problems from the female side. It’s not all that different.

“Same here,” I tell him. “I’m already looking forward to tomorrow.”

“Me too,” he says giving me another kiss before letting me walk through the door.

Laurie and Aunt Jen are watching the end of some TV show as I wander into the living room.

“Ah–” Aunt Jen observes with a smile, “Another successful date I see by the silly grin on your face.”

“You look awful dry for someone who’s just been swimming,” Laurie observes. “What did you two do?”

“Actually, we just sat and talked,” I answer. “Hey, I’ve got to make a couple of phone calls. Why don’t you guys finish your show. Laurie, can we talk when you get done?”

Wandering into my room I try to decide who to call first. I’m sure Mom Polly is dying to hear about my dates as is Caitlin. Both calls could be long ones. Pulling my cell phone out of my bag, I call Alaska first.

“Hello, Princess,” the Major answers the phone.

“Hi, Daddy,” I reply.

“Uh oh… there’s that ‘Hi, Daddy’ thing again,” he says, “what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing,” I reply airily. “I just had the most wonderful date.”

“With Andy, I take it?” he suggests.

“Yes,” I confirm his supposition. “And don’t worry, we didn’t do anything inappropriate. You can put it on speaker phone if you want to hear the details. If not, I’d like to speak to Mom as I know she does.”

“We’ve heard a lot about your date last night from your Aunt,” he tells me as he turns on speaker phone so Mom Polly can join in. “how’d your race go? You didn’t get much sleep last night, I hear.”

“Hello, Sweetheart,” Mom Polly greets me.

Dang!  I’d forgotten about the race. My priorities really are screwed up.

“Hi, Mom,” I return the greeting before answering the Major’s question. “I guess the race went well. I could have gone faster, I suppose. But I did win my age group.”

We spend a few minutes discussing the race before Mom Polly gets to the topic she’s most interested in.

“It sounds like you had a great date last night, for the most part,” she says. “I take it you two went out again today?”

We spend the next quarter hour talking about the dates. I let Mom know how wonderful Andy makes me feel and she seems to understand. The Major quickly tires of the girl conversation but lets me know that we need to talk on the other line sometime soon. At some point, Laurie wanders into my room and joins the conversation. I switch my phone to speaker.

Realizing I still need to talk with Caitlin, we keep the call short–you know, like under half an hour.

Calling Caitlin, I tell her I don’t have too much time, but just had to give her the basic details of tonight’s date.

“You guys just sat there and talked?” she squeals incredulously. “Didn’t he, like, try to do anything? I mean, he didn’t try to feel you up or get into your panties?”

“I told you,” I remind her, “Andy’s a gentleman. In fact he suggested we take it slow. Neither of us wants to do anything stupid.”

“Wow,” she can’t seem to get her mind around the concept. “You mean, like, you didn’t try to jump his bones or anything?”

“Caitlin!” I exclaim indignantly. “I most certainly did not. I’m not ready to make a big mess of my life right now, Miss Nosey.”

“You can’t tell me that you didn’t get a least a little turned on, girl,” she challenges me. “I saw how you looked at each other at the store.”

Laurie–sitting across from me on the bed–looks very interested in the reply.

“Well,” I admit, blushing, “maybe a little.”

“Come on, girl,” she cajoles me, “I bet it was a lot more than ‘a little’.”

What is it with this girl? It seems being sexually excited is the most important thing in life after getting a boyfriend.

“Oh, Caitlin,” Laurie says, “I think it must have been more than ‘a little’ judging from Tina’s blush.”

“Come on, you guys,” I say in exasperation, “You’re making this into more that it really is.  Let’s just say, I really enjoyed just snuggling with him. It felt very nice to just have him hold me and talk. It made me feel warm and fuzzy. It was not the hot passion you seem to think. Anyway, you know what? Warm and fuzzy’s just fine with me.”

“I know the feeling,” Laurie chimes in, “It’s the way I feel when I’m being held by Chris. God, I miss that feeling. It’s addictive and I hate going through withdrawals.”

“You two are so lucky,” Caitlin sighs, “I’ve never gone out with a guy willing to just cuddle and talk. Where do you find these guys?”

Just at this moment, my call waiting started going off.

“Hey, Caitlin,” I say excitedly, “Andy’s trying to call me. Can you hold for a minute?”

Without waiting for her reply, I pick up Andy’s call while indicating to Laurie that she should be quiet.

“Hello,” I answer the call.

“Hey, Tina,” Andy’s wonderful voice makes me feel warm all over again–even over the phone. “I had a talk with my folks and they’re cool with you coming over. Mom wants to know if you can join us for dinner. We don’t eat until seven since Mom and I will be working at the store until six.”

“I’d love to,” I reply enthusiastically. “What time should I come over?”

“Why don’t I pick you up when I get off work?” he asks.

“Cool,” I reply, “I’ll be ready.”

With that he says goodnight and I switch back to Caitlin. Laurie’s been suppressing a giggle throughout this short conversation. She lets it out after Andy is gone.

“Are you still there?” I ask Caitlin as I glare at my cousin with annoyance.

“Yeah,” Caitlin replies, “what’s Laurie giggling about?”

“The lovers are sooo cute,” Laurie says with another giggle.

“What happened?” Caitlin asks eagerly.

“Would you believe they’re going to date three nights in a row?” Laurie informs her.

“No way!” Caitlin exclaims, “What about running practice, Tina? If you quit coming so will everyone else. Catching a boyfriend is cool and everything, like, but let’s not go overboard here, girl. You’ve got obligations to the team.”

“It’s just one workout,” I explain, “I’m sure the whole team won’t fall apart just because I miss one practice.”

“What about last week?” she asks, “You missed a practice last week because of this guy too. I see a trend happening here.”

“It’s fine,” I tell her, “Just think of it as an opportunity to get better than me. Maybe you’ll be beating me by the end of the summer. It’ll just be this one night–I promise. I’ll be there Tuesday.”

Laurie just gives me that I don’t think so look.

“And what’s this about having obligations to the team,” I ask, “I don’t even go to your school.”

“Everyone knows that the guys only come because of you,” she explains. “You’re a guy magnet.  The girls come to pick up your leftovers. If you quit coming, the guys quit coming, then the girls quit coming and, like, then there’s nothing left.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I dismiss her argument being less than convinced.

After some more details of my evening with Andy, we say good night and hang up.

The little nap I took earlier was rejuvenating, but I realize the long day is catching up with me as I try to suppress a yawn.

“Well, Miss Social, do you have time to talk now?” Laurie asks.

I nod yes, but pointing at the cell phone, I say, “I’m bushed. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

“I guess,” she sighs as she reluctantly gets up off my bed. “Good night, Tina.”

As we hug good night, I whisper in her ear, “Meet you on the patio in fifteen minutes.”

Fifteen minutes later we are sitting close to each other on the bench at the picnic table in pajamas.  Our electronic devices are in the house. Nevertheless, we whisper just in case someone is listening.

“While you were out last night with Andy,” she begins, “I told Mom about what I’ve heard concerning Dr. Sommers and his issues with Mrs. Harrison. She checked her list of Mr. Rana’s clients and found that Mr. Rana has had a lot of contact with a Ms. Rachel Conners, the woman who accused Dr. Sommers of harassment a few years ago. I’ve met her a few times at the office. She’s a chemical engineer and extremely bright. She’s also not the happiest person you’ve ever met–she’s always complaining about something. She’s got a few friends but most people don’t go out of their way to be around her.

“We talked about it a lot and decided to approach Dr. Sommers about helping us with planting misleading data like you’ve been doing. Mom can make the contact and he doesn’t need to know that I’ll be the one ‘stealing’ the information. She’ll call him into the Director’s office for an ‘meeting’ with the Director tomorrow and lay out the plan then. In the mean time, I’ll try to get to know Ms. Conners better.”

“Have you talked with Mrs. Harrison about this?” I ask.

“Not yet,” she replies. “Mom is going to do that tomorrow before she calls in Dr. Sommers.”

“This is so cool,” I tell her. “It looks as if we’re finally getting somewhere. I’m just worried that the rest of the security team will figure out something is up and blow the cover off our new little group.”

“Mom and Mrs. Harrison mentioned the same thing Saturday night,” she tells me. “This whole thing is getting a bit more complicated than anyone expected.  We have overlap between the four of us and the Security Committee. Then Mom is obviously using some outside source to help with her investigations and I get the sense that you’ve involved some people that you’re not telling me about either.  This dispersed organization could be a problem.  There are just too many quasi-independent investigations going on. And if we do figure out the spy organization, who do we tell about it?”

“I think we can trust your Mom and Mrs. Harrison,” I reply. “I’m sure they have a plan for apprehending the spies when we expose them. For now, let’s concentrate on getting evidence on the bad guys. Did I tell you that Mrs. Harrison almost pulled me off the job? She wanted to transfer me to another division and to have me quit seeing Andy.”

“Why would she do that?” Laurie asks with a confused look on her face.

“Apparently Mr. Rana might not be a harmless lawyer,” I tell her,–wondering if such a thing as a harmless lawyer exists–? “Anyway, he seems to be around when bad things happen. She’s not sure what will happen, but we know that he’s suspicious of me and also wants me to stay away from the Langs. I convinced her that pulling me out all of a sudden so soon after the warning he gave me would pretty much be an admission that he’s right. It would also expose enough of our effort that we might as well quit.”

“Maybe you should back off,” she suggests with genuine concern in her voice and a worried expression on her face. “I’d really hate to see something bad happen to you.”

“Yeah, well,” I agree with her, “I’d hate for something bad to happen to me too. But, hey, I didn’t become a girl this summer just for the clothes, you know. Not only that, but while I’m like this, I don’t think I can stay away from Andy. I really like being with him.”

Laurie gives a quiet laugh.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“This was supposed to be an easy summer job,” she reminds me. “Just collect data and let the big folks do the analysis and all the hard work. Things have sure changed.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “Maybe we should ask for a raise––”

---<>---

It's good to be back. It's good to have Gabi's help too.

Laurie gives a quiet laugh.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“This was supposed to be an easy summer job,” she reminds me. “Just collect data and let the big folks do the analysis and all the hard work. Things have sure changed.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “Maybe we should ask for a raise––”

Chapter 39: Choice

“You know, you’re pretty good with a computer,” the geeky young programmer guy tells me. He can’t be much older than 21–if that. He’s one of the junior programmers on the staff. “It’s not every day a kid like you can pick up on this stuff so quickly. It’s even rarer to find a girl with interests in programming.”

We’re sitting in his office at the Lab where he’s been teaching me the basics of programming my library database for use across the Lab’s intranet. We’ve been at it all morning and he’s shown me much more than I technically need. I’m getting the impression that he’s showing off–in his own way–to impress me. Apparently I’ve impressed him too. But, then again, anyone near his age wearing a skirt would probably get his undivided attention. I don’t think he spends much time around real girls.

“I’m just starting to learn about network and web stuff,” I admit. “My boyfriend has been teaching me about web pages and I’m trying to learn about how to use databases with his web projects. We have a couple of things we want to do with his site. He has his own server at home so there’s no limit to what he can do. One thing I need to learn more about is how to deal with security issues.”

Steve, the programmer, looks a bit deflated at the boyfriend statement, but it looks like he enjoys a challenge.

“You’ve come to the right place, Tina,” he boasts. “I know a thing or two about network security.  After all, I got this job when somebody found out about my hacking hobby. I beat out a lot of experienced hackers in a recent competition too. Someone reckoned it’d be better to have me on their side instead of me trying to hack their systems, hence the job. What’s the URL for your boyfriend’s site?”

Within minutes, not only has he found the site, but he’s hacked into the server and has complete access to the Lang’s home network. He did it so fast that I couldn’t keep up with what he did.

“Wow, how’d you do that?” I ask in amazement.

“It’s pretty rudimentary,” he says with an inflated ego. “He’s using low budget security software which has vulnerabilities that no one’s bothered to tell the developers about or that they don’t want to fix for some reason. Here, let me show you how it’s done.”

Over the next half hour, I discover how to work my way through the process. It’s slow as he has to explain the basics of how networks and network security systems work.  My head is spinning by the time we’re done–but I think I can repeat the process from another computer.

“Now,” he says, “there’s a bit of clean up you need to do if you want to cover your tracks in case someone decides to look at activity on the system.”  By lunch time, I’ve learned an incredible amount of information–all recorded on my cell phone for later reference.

“He’s got some great pictures of you on the site,” Steve observes, “I bet he’s got more on his hard drive. We can look at them if you like. Do you do modeling on the side?”

“No, I’m sure he’ll show them to me,” I answer, “And no–I don’t model.”

“Well, you should,” he says bringing up a picture of Laurie and I. “You’re a lot better looking than your sister here. I bet you look pretty hot in a bikini.”

“That’s my cousin,” I inform him, ignoring the comment about the bikini, “and I think she’s pretty cute.”

“Hey, looky here,” Steve gets excited about a new discovery. “He’s password protected a couple of subdirectories here. The names don’t make much sense. If we had the time we could break into those and see what he’s up to.”

“Can’t you just work some magic and get it?” I ask.

“There are a couple of ways to get in,” he says, “but they all take time. The easiest way is to upload some spyware which will keep track of keystrokes. I’ve got some here which none of the current spyware programs can detect. Let me show you how it works.”

Without asking if I think he should or not, he uploads the program and shows me how to retrieve the data from it.

“Once the programs migrate to the other computers you’ll be able to get any password typed anywhere on his home network with this baby,” he proudly boasts. “I wrote it myself.” Like that was hard to figure out–he is pretty proud of his abilities. “I’ve also set it up to capture copies of email that pass through the server and a log of websites visited. We could have it forward the information to your email account or another server but that’d be too easy to trace if the software is found. It’s best to leave it on his server and get it when you want it. The program is set to delete captured data that is over a week old so the capture files don’t overwhelm his local hard drive so you need to check it regularly. You can also watch what’s going on real time too.”  He shows me how this is done.

I thank him for his help and ask if I can return if I have any questions. He makes a half hearted attempt at asking me out–suggesting that he has a lot more that he can teach me–but I just smile and tell him that Andy and I have other plans during that time.  Having a boyfriend comes in handy at times like this.

Before meeting the girls for lunch, I stop by the office and download my session with Steve on to a thumb drive then delete it from the phone–hopefully before the security team does their daily check of my phone.

---<>---

Tiff’s not in a very good mood today.  As Laurie and I join her for lunch her latest boyfriend is nowhere in sight.

“So, Tiff,” I ask, “where’s your friend?”

“Humph,” she scowls, “Some friend. I swear that guy’s hands never stayed still at the dance. I was on the defensive all night.”

“I saw him grab your buns during one dance,” I tell her. “You whacked him pretty good.”

“I spent all evening trying to convince him that he didn’t need to feel me up,” she sighed. “And I thought he’d be different. What’s with guys? They never seem to have anything but their own pleasure on their minds.”

“I don’t know about that,” Laurie observes, “Chris is pretty good. We reached an understanding early and he has respected it ever since. I really get the feeling he likes me–not just my body.”

“He probably knows that Marla and I would kill him if he acted that way towards any girl,” Tiff points out.

“Andy seems pretty respectful too,” I mention.

“That’s just because he’s playing you nice right now,” Tiff warns me. “When he gets you feeling all secure and everything, he’ll make his move. When he does, he’ll promise undying love. In the end he’ll just leave you after he gets what he wants. I’ve decided I’ll know a guy is serious when he makes a marriage proposal. Until then, my body is off limits to any and every guy. None of the love ’em and leave ’em stuff for me anymore.”

My...isn’t Tiff in a man-hating mode today. She’s not new at this losing a boyfriend thing but she gets pretty worked up whenever it happens.

“I take it you’re not seeing him again?” Laurie asks.

“No,” Tiff sighs. “Not in this life time. So, ladies, what are you two up to tonight? I’m feeling like a girl’s night out. I need to let out some frustrations. Maybe we can get Marla to come.”

“I can’t,” I wince. “Andy’s picking me up when he gets off work tonight.”

“What do you have in mind?” Laurie asks her. “I’m on ice all summer until Chris gets back.”

---<>---

Andy arrives shortly after he gets off at six. I’ve changed out of my nice work clothes into shorts and a top again–similar to what I wore last night but different. I fuss with my makeup and hair for way longer than is really necessary trying to figure out what would be most attractive to Andy. I know what Chris would like, so I just go with that. This girl stuff is just so much different than being a guy.

I greet my boyfriend–I kinda like that word, ‘boyfriend’–at the door with a long kiss. After a quick visit with Aunt Jen we are on our way.

“I should warn you,” Andy tells me after we get to the car. “Dad’s really not happy about you coming tonight. He and Mom had a big fight about it last night–one of the worst that they’ve had so he’s in a very bad mood. Just be nice and stay out of his way and everything should be okay.”

“I hope they weren’t fighting just about me,” I say with concern.

“Well,” he hesitates, “yes and no. Dad says that he wants me to quit seeing you but Mom really encourages the relationship. She thinks you’re good for me and she won’t let Dad stand in the way.”

I smile at that, “And what do you think? Am I good for you?”

“You’re definitely good for me,” he says with a grin. “There’s no question about it.”

“Even if I do turn your world upside down? I like to think you’re good for me too,” I say, “but not everyone agrees.”

“Oh, who thinks there’s a problem,” he asks.

“Caitlin is of two minds,” I tell him. “On the one hand she thinks every girl needs to put having a boyfriend first on her list so–in that respect–you’re good for me. On the other hand she thinks you’re a bad influence since I’m missing running practice for you tonight. For some reason, she’s convinced that I’m the only reason anyone comes to the practice.”

“I can understand that,” he says still wearing that silly grin on his face. “I’d be tempted to take up running if that’s what it takes to be around you.”

I just roll my eyes and contemplate hitting him on the shoulder for that comment–which is just too corny.

Sure enough, Papa Lang is not a happy camper as we walk hand-in-hand into the house.  He just scowls at me when I greet him.  Mrs. Lang is the polar opposite.  You’d think I was a long lost daughter or something. She gives me a big hug and complements me on my new top and says she likes the way I’m wearing my hair today before sending Andy upstairs to change out of his work clothes and inviting me to join her in the kitchen.

Before I know it, I’m helping make a salad while Andy sets the table. By the time we sit down to eat, Mrs. Lang has wrung my–modified–life history out of me and my plans for the future. She is kind and very chatty during her interrogation. I learn a lot about her and her family as well. And all this in under twenty minutes. She can easily keep up with a fast-paced teen girl’s conversation. She’s a pro at it.

During dinner, she keeps up the pace. I did pick up a few embarrassing stories about Andy’s childhood which are precious. Andy’s blush indicates his mother could have skipped a few stories, but, hey–as my parents are prone to saying–it’s the parent’s prerogative and duty to embarrass their children. Parents seem to take some kind of perverse pleasure in doing so.

Andy’s father stays quiet during the meal. Mrs. Lang seems to like it that way. You can tell he can’t wait for it to be over. If looks could kill, I’d have been buried before everyone got seated for the meal. I try to pull him into the conversation but get nothing more than grunts or one word responses. I try turning on my charm but it only works on two out of three of my hosts.

This time, Mrs. Lang is happy for us to help with the cleanup activities.  Once we’re done, Andy and I excuse ourselves to go upstairs to his room with directions to keep the door open. After our last two dates, that’s probably a really good idea.

I manage to leave my bag with cell phone in their entryway which is central to the downstairs. I wonder what intriguing conversations it’ll pick up tonight.

Over the next couple of hours we download and install an open source database system. We also get a good start on organizing a database for storing his image properties. We need the database so that we can move on to making dynamic web pages which show his work in different ways depending on what the user is looking for.  We get really engrossed in the work to the point where we don’t pay attention to anything else. We’re just two friends working together.  Okay–almost like two friends working together.  Friends–that is–who like to congratulate each other’s work with a quick kiss. And we really admire each other’s work–a lot.  We do stay away from heavy making out as Mrs. Lang seems prone to walking by the open doorway from time to time. She did see Andy giving me a quick kiss after I showed him something interesting about database management. We both blushed mightily but she just smiled and left us alone. 

Looking at the system clock, I see that it’s approaching nine o’clock–the time I set for myself to go home.  As Chris I rarely stayed out much later than this.  Now I reset my expectation to nine thirty–after all, we are in the middle of a particularly difficult problem. A problem that can only be solved if we keep encouraging each other. We keep it up.

Mrs. Lang comes to the door a little later holding my bag, “Tina, your bag was just making some strange noises, like some dying animal.  Was that your ring tone?”

“Yes,” I reply happily as I take the bag from her, “It’s the noise that a moose makes. Isn’t it different?”

“It’s definitely different,” she agrees without seeming impressed.  “It’s very Alaskan,” she says as she leaves us.

Digging out the cell phone I see that it’s a little after nine thirty. “Oh crap!,” I exclaim, “Look at what time it is.”

The missed call was from Caitlin. I better call her back soon.

“Do you mind if I send a text to Caitlin?” I ask Andy sweetly. “It’ll only take a minute.”

Getting the go-ahead from Andy I text her letting her know that I’ll call when I get home in a little bit.

“This is great fun, Andy,” I say with some urgency, “but I really need to be getting home. I was supposed be home at nine. Would you give me a ride home please?”

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” he sighs. “We’re just starting to get all the pieces together.”

“Andy,” I explain to him, “It’s going to take several more evenings at this rate before we get something workable. We’ve got a lot to learn yet.”

“But we are getting better at kissing,” he points out with that silly grin on his face.

I’m sure my grin is as silly as his, “Yeah, at least the short ones.  We still need work on the longer ones and here’s probably not the place to do it. Anyway, I think the kissing practice is slowing down the programming.”

“I’m sure it is,” he agrees. “But I don’t mind.”

“Me neither,” I smile in reply, giving him a other quick kiss.

Gathering my belongings from the entry I bid goodbye to Andy’s mother.  His dad is nowhere in sight. Mrs. Lang gives me a hug and encourages me to return soon. I think I have a friend for life.

Andy walks me to the door after the short drive to the Mercer home.

“Shall do this again tomorrow?” he asks.

“I really need to run tomorrow,” I remind him with a frown. “I’m really tempted to skip again but I think Caitlin will kill me if I do. Also, I need to keep my training going. And–before you ask–I promised Caitlin that I’d spend some time with her after running tomorrow.”

“Mom wants me to help with a watercolor class she’s holding at the store on Wednesday evening. I imagine you’ve got running practice every night,” he says dejectedly.

“I do,” the disappointment evident in my voice as well. “Why don’t you call me tomorrow and we’ll talk at least.”

He wraps his wonderfully strong arms around me and says, “It’s just that we can’t do this over the phone,” then proceeds to give me a toe curling kiss as I wrap my arms around his neck and do my best to match his intensity.

“Hey,” a familiar voice comes out of the dark, “Put her down, Andy, before you suffocate the poor girl.”

Laurie grins at us as she walks up to the porch as we separate with extremely red faces.

“Hey, cousin,” I greet her. “Where’ve you been?”

“Out with Tiff, Marla and few other girls,” she replies, “since you abandoned me. When you’re done doing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation with Andy I’ve got to talk with you.”

“I’ll be in in a minute,” I tell her as she heads inside.

Andy and I engage in another passionate kiss before I reluctantly pull way and say good night.

Entering the living room where Laurie and her mother are waiting, I flop down on the couch in an un-ladylike fashion.

“Whew, how am I supposed to get all this done?” I ask in frustration. “Andy time is getting in the way of my running. My running is getting in the way of my Andy time. I’m supposed to be making more inroads into the Sommers home and then there’s work. When am I supposed to get in some Laurie time?”

“Life’s tough, Sweetheart. Why don’t you go put your stuff away and come join us on the patio?” Aunt Jen suggests. It’s evident that she doesn’t want me to bring my eavesdropping devices.

“Sure, right after I give Caitlin a quick call,” I answer. “She’s waiting for me to call her.”

The phone call is frustratingly short for both of us, but we agree to catch up more fully after tomorrow’s running practice. Some guy at work asked her to a movie on Friday night and she can’t wait to tell me all about it. She’s a little worried about the guy and thinks I should talk Andy into making it a double date. She also wants to hear about how things are progressing with Andy. Oh, and she invited me and Andy to go waterskiing again this Saturday with her family. She’s actually thinking of inviting the girls from the running team and their dates also.

I join Laurie and her mother on the patio where Aunt Jen has iced tea waiting for me.

“Girls,” Aunt Jen quietly begins. “Susan and I are convinced that the problem we’re having involves at least one and maybe more of the Security team. As a result, we’ve decided to start our own investigation. Tina, your work has been invaluable. In fact, both of you have contributed much more than we’ve asked for and it’s a good thing that you’ve violated your instructions and used your heads. I’ve been using some outside resources to follow up on the information you’ve given me and new information is flowing in quickly now that we know where to look. Tina, your recording of Dr. Lang’s phone call to Mr. Rana was just the key we needed to get things off the ground.

“The real problem now is to finish identifying the extent of the problem. We need to know who all the involved players are and their roles. We also need to collect enough evidence to convict the guilty. The hard part of this will be to collect information without tipping off what we’re doing.  That means we need to continue to work with the Security team as if nothing else is happening. You girls need to continue to go about your assigned duties as instructed by the committee, but we also need your help in smoking out the problem people.

“I know that Susan suggested moving you to another division, Tina, but you rightly pointed out that doing so might actually spook the bad guys. We’d like you to continue at the Ignition Facility, but you need to be extra careful.

“A couple of things have come to light the past few days. One of the most significant is that Mr. Rana probably is the gateway for the information leaking out of the Lab. We’ve had some top notch cyber sleuths monitoring his computer and phone systems and the information they’ve retrieved so far indicates that he is in regular contact with several Lab employees who don’t seem to currently need legal assistance. Indeed most are sending some encrypted files to him which are then forwarded on to other people with more obvious ties to terrorist groups. The encryption is not one of the Lab’s standard protocols. So far we’ve been unable to break the encryption but we have some of the best people in the world working on it as we speak. Mr. Rana is using a cyber security system which is pretty tight. Much tighter than you’d expect from a typical lawyer.  It took our guys a few days to figure out how to break into it without setting off any warnings. They tell me that the system uses protocols different from what they’re used to seeing in this country.

“Another accomplishment is that–as far as our little group is concerned–we’ve cleared Dr. Sommers of any suspicion of wrong doing.  The information that you, Laurie, have provided really helped in that.  When I called him in today, he seemed more than eager to help us. He’s agreed to plant some modified technical reports out where Laurie can find them. He doesn’t know about the two of you by name, but he knows that we have at least one person in place looking for leaks in his project group. We’ll be watching to see where the data goes once Laurie sends it. Laurie, we need you to get close to Rachel Conners to see what you can learn about her.

“For now, we’re not letting the rest of the Security team know that Dr. Sommers is off the hook. This means, Tina, that you have to keep acting like you’re checking him out. You really need to keep up your contact with Caitlin and spend time with her family acting like you’re looking for clues.”

“No problem, Aunt Jen,” I confidently tell her. “I’ll be going over tomorrow after running.”

“Great, Tina,” she smiles at me. “We know you’ve got some resources you’re using which you aren’t sharing with us yet. We don’t know how you’ve managed to obtain the planted false information, but we’re glad that you have. That piece of work convinced both Susan and I that there are troubles in the Security team and that we needed to start taking a closer look at our team. I can understand why you’d like to protect your sources, but it might be helpful if you can share them with us when you feel comfortable doing so. In the mean time, see if you can get any more misleading documents to send on.  Just let Susan or me know as soon as you send it so that we can get people to start tracking it.

“We’ve made great strides in the last week because of the tips you girls have given us. We need you to keep up the good work.”

Laurie positively glows at the praise. She’s been feeling something like a spare wheel up to now.

“Tina,” Aunt Jen continues with a very serious expression. “Everyone on the Security team knows about your transformation. We have to assume that Mr. Rana knows about it too if we do indeed have a leak in the committee. I’m not sure how far that information will spread once he does get it. Judging from the comments he made Saturday either our leak hasn’t told him the whole story yet or he realizes divulging the information to you will prove that the leak is in the Security team. I’m not sure what problems this’ll cause if the truth gets out, but we have to assume that it will. You’ve given us what appears to be the key to the operation so the disguise has fulfilled its purpose.  If either you or we get the feeling that you’re in any danger at all, however, we will pull you out and hide you away in the Sierras until this comes to a conclusion.  This’ll give you the rest of the summer to fish and camp–something the three of us know Chris would love to do. In fact, if you want to bail out for any reason, just let me know. As I’ve said, you still have a lot to offer to the investigation but we can probably pursue the rest of it without you because of the breakthroughs you’ve given us. Just let me know when you’re ready. We’ll simply tell the rest of the committee that the original plan is not working out and there’s no need to keep you around like this any longer.”

I’m sitting here in shock. I can quit now. I can go back to being Chris. Is this what I want?  Maybe a few weeks ago but what about now? Checking with Brain Central, all I get is it’s up to you, kid, be we’re enjoying the ride. Why stop now?  I have to agree.

“Ah..., Aunt Jen,” I nervously reply. “I’m kinda’ in the middle of things right now. As you’ve pointed out, there’s more information which I can provide. Can I think about it?”

“Sure, darling,” she smiles gently at me, “take your time. You definitely have to go back to being Chris at the end of the summer. It might be easier to do now.”

“Yeah,” I absently reply. “I’ll think about it.”

“Tina,” Aunt Jen continues, “I’m sure that you and Laurie plan to talk about any findings from today, however, would it be a problem for me to join in the conversation?  I’d particular like to hear anything you’ve learned from the Langs besides how nice it is for a girl to be kissed by a handsome young man who really likes you.”

This change of gears brings me back from a question I don’t want to think about right now.

“Dr. Lang,” I mention coming back to the conversation, “is not happy about Andy seeing me. Apparently Mr. Rana has given him enough reason to mistrust me. He didn’t have much to say to me tonight.  I left my cell phone out where the parents might be talking while I was working with Andy. I haven’t had a chance to listen to it yet, but maybe there’s something new. I’ll go get it if you’re done talking about things the Security team shouldn’t hear.”

With that, I retrieve my phone and computer.  After downloading the audio file we spend the next hour searching for anything meaningful. We’re disappointed in that the senior Langs aren’t really speaking to each other and each were engaged in their own activities away from each other.

As we search the file I contemplate the need to tell them about the spy software that’s been installed on Andy’s server. I can’t use my laptop to check it as someone will see what I’m doing since it is monitored.  Also, I should check the spyware from someplace other than the Mercer home in case I forget to delete the relevant entries in the web log and someone tries tracking the IP addresses.  To do this, I need to find another computer and the time to visit some public place with free wireless and lots of users.  I can get my real father to get me my old laptop from his house, but–with running and dividing time between Andy, Laurie and Caitlin, I don’t really have the time to sneak off regularly to check the files. Maybe I could do it from work?  I just worry about someone looking over my shoulder and seeing what I’m doing. It’d be hard to explain.

“Aunt Jen,” I say after I’ve put away my computer and cell phone, “I might be able to get the information you need to break the encryption program. I’ll need a computer which the Lab’s not tracking and some time to visit locations which have free internet. I know where I can get a computer, but I’m really short on time right now. I don’t even have time left for Andy this week. Do you think I could get some time off during the day? I should only need an hour or two a day.”

“I can let you borrow the car over lunch each day,” she says. “I think I can get your supervisor to let you have extended lunch hours if I tell her that you’re running errands for my office. When do you want to start?” 

“How about tomorrow and every day there after for a while?” I ask.

“We can do that,” she agrees. Thankfully she doesn’t pry for details. It’s nice to be trusted by an adult.

As I finish getting ready for bed, I dig out my anonymous cell phone and send a text to Dr. Quinn.

Dr. Q... Ur new grl needs Chris laptop asap. Put in M’s unlocked car. Ur grl says to say she’s doing lots of long jogs these days.

Even though it’s late and I’m tired, sleep is slow in coming as I ponder the possible to an early end to my adventure in girl land. I wasn’t expecting an early release and I don’t think I want one. I really need to think about this more.

On one hand, it’d be great to get back to the simple life again.  And a month of fishing, hiking, and camping in the high Sierra has always been a dream of mine. It’ll be great to miss my next period–which I’m reminded should happen again real soon. Peeing standing up sounds great too. I wouldn’t have to mess with hair or makeup anymore either. Looking at my long, beautifully manicured nails reminds me how much easier it was not to have to mess with them either. Also, it would be a really good idea to pull the plug on my relationship with Andy before it gets any deeper.

On the other hand, I’m really enjoying being a girl now. I admit to myself that I really like the clothes, the makeup, the new girl friends, and the boyfriend. Sure, I have quite a few friends as a guy, but there’s something special between girl friends which I’ll really miss. And–even though I have Laurie as a girlfriend–I’ll miss the special time with Andy.

So, what do I do? Make the most of the summer as a girl or take the dream vacation?

I just don’t know. I guess I’ll just sleep on it for now.

It feels strange to have a choice.

---<>---

Thanks–yet again–to Gabi for her able editing.

 

So, what do I do? Make the most of the summer as a girl or take the dream vacation?

I just don’t know. I guess I’ll just sleep on it for now.

It feels strange to have a choice.

Chapter 40: Data Collection

The coffee shop on 1st Street is pretty busy, but I’m able find a table in the back where I can sit with my back to the wall. I don’t want anyone watching over my shoulder. Ordering a coffee and a half sandwich I boot up my old laptop. I’m not the only one in the shop with their computer going. Doing so, reconnects me with my male past. I’ve spent many hours with this computer and it is an old friend. Looking at some images stored on the computer from my prior life and reflecting on the last few weeks, I’m starting to realize that–in many small ways–I miss of my old life. There are some great things about both lives. I’ve been so immersed in adapting to girlhood that I’ve almost forgotten about being Christopher. What will it be like to transition back? Do I want to do it now or press on for a few more weeks? I have the choice.

I made a quick call to the Major this morning before going to work. I mentioned to him about the option to bail out and asked him what he thought about the idea.  He suggested that it is often better to be safe than sorry and that I should give some serious thought about taking the option. On the other hand, he could see where my further participation in the project will really help bring it to a close more quickly.  He pointed out that this kind of assignment is inherently dangerous so I should be cautious.  He is apparently using his own resources to check on Mr. Rana and what he’s found so far doesn’t look good.  He should know more in the next day or so. He obliquely mentioned that he was doing something to reduce the threat but wouldn’t elaborate. He asked to be kept abreast of my activities so I filled him in on my plans for the week but I didn’t tell him about my cyber sleuthing.  I want to keep that to myself for a while

I don’t have a lot of time, so I shake off the distracting thoughts as I push a loose strand of blonde hair over my ear to keep it out of my face. I’m still sporting the French nails from Saturday and find typing on the laptop keyboard to be a little awkward. In many ways it’ll be good to get back to the simplicity of being a guy.

Within minutes I’m into the spyware archive on Andy’s server. I feel a bit like a traitor to my boyfriend to be looking through his activity logs. It seems that my favorite young man did not get back on the computer after dropping me off last night. However, both adults appear to have their own computers on the network and were using them while Andy and I were working on our project. Neither of the computers are currently turned on. For now I focus on the log for the one that the good doctor was apparently on.  I discovered that he uses two different email accounts and I’m easily able to get the addresses and login passwords for both courtesy of the keystroke capture program Steve installed. I also download the captured emails and remove them from the server.

Looking through the captured email, I see an exchange with our lawyer friend. Opening the first one, I find that Dr. Lang is still complaining about me being around and he’s demanding that Mr. Rana do something about it. He also makes a vague reference to being almost done with a project which will be forwarded shortly. He’s concerned that I might screw things up somehow. I certainly hope so, I think to myself.

A return email from Mr. Rana cautions Dr. Lang to remain calm.  He has a hard time seeing a sixteen-year-old girl as a real threat though he’s not convinced that I am who I say I am. He’s still looking into the matter of my true identity. So maybe he doesn’t know about my change. He writes that it should be easy to keep the girl from finding anything of value. He points out that making a scene will only draw unwanted attention to his work. There is a demand for Dr. Lang to complete his work as soon as possible. People are getting impatient.

“Who does this guy think he is?” I mutter to myself. I’ll show him what a sixteen-year-old girl can do. The guy’s an arrogant sexist bastard just like Dr. Lang. I can take advantage of their attitudes. The emails make it pretty clear to me that Dr. Lang is about to deliver something special to Mr. Rana and that he’s not just simply worried about a harassment HR investigation.. Somebody has to stop him. I need to find of a way to do that.

Mrs. Lang’s email is also interesting. It’s personal and I shouldn’t be reading it, but hey, I’m a nosey girl, right? She apparently has a sister somewhere who she corresponds with regularly. In her email is a detailed description of the bright and kind girl that her son has brought home. She has high hopes that this relationship will bring Andy out of his shell. She even put in a link to her son’s website which has my picture plastered all over it. Yep, I’ve scored points with Andy’s mother. She thinks we make a cute couple. The only downside she sees is that I’ll be gone at the end of the summer. The highest compliment to me is when she bemoans the fact that she doesn’t have a daughter. She’d like have one like me. I could get bigheaded reading these emails.

On the downside she expresses frustration with her husband. If I’m reading this correctly, she may be actually thinking of either leaving him or kicking him out in the very near future. Life with the man is becoming unbearable. The only thing holding her back appears to be Andy. She doesn’t want to make the poor boy choose between his two parents. Things don’t look so good on the marriage front.

This email was sent late last night–after I left the house–and there’s no reply yet.

After clearing the access logs and copying all the spyware captures on to my computer I shut it down. I need to find time to get on when Dr. Lang’s computer is up to see what he has on there. I bet I’ll have to do it in the evening sometime; but the question is when?

---<>---

Instead of running with the boys this afternoon, I hang back with the handful of girls who’ve joined our little team. I’m just not feeling competitive and neither are most of them. Part of the reason is the heat–it’s just short of 100 degrees Fahrenheit this afternoon. We run at an easy pace and chat about a million different things. It is interesting how a group of girls can carry on three or four simultaneous discussions without missing hardly a detail.

The girls all want to know how my relationship with Andy is going. I try deflecting the comments by asking a couple of other girls who’d been at the dance about their dates. A couple of them scored kisses, but no return engagements yet. One of them had had an experience similar to Tiffs and–after she shared the details–it was pretty much decided by the group to avoid any advances from that particular boy. The word is out–he’ll never get a date from any girl in this group. I continue to be amazed at the detail shared by the girls.

Regardless of my efforts to distract them, the girls are determined to wheedle every little detail out of me. More than once I was tempted to run ahead of the group to get away from the scrutiny. Eventually they get what they want. The jury decides that Andy is quite the gentlemen and very romantic. The verdict also concludes that I’m one lucky girl. There’s a lot of discussion with the girls wondering how Andy could have avoided their radar so long. I get the feeling that there’ll be an open season on Andy once Tina leaves town. May the best girl win. I feel a little sorry for Andy–I hope he can handle the onslaught.

Caitlin invites the girls to go to the reservoir on Saturday for waterskiing and just hanging out. This kicks off another round of excited planning and everyone agrees we should invite the boys too–making it a team party.

We girls have taken a shorter route than the boys, but still the guys beat us back to the school. By the time we arrive, the girls have pretty much planned the details for Saturday’s beach party and fill in the guys on the general plan. The family of one of the boys also has a ski boat and he promises to ask his parents to let him use it.

“Hey, Tina,” Dan asks as the planning runs down, “you didn’t hardly even break a sweat tonight. What’s up with that?”

I guess he’s right. That’s a big change from this time last week. While it feels good to be out running again, it wasn’t as satisfying as an intense run. I did, however, enjoy my visit with the girls.

“Just saving my strength for tomorrow,” I inform him with a grin, “when I’ll be beating your ass on the intervals, dude.”

He looks at me strangely. My comment was a typical Chris comment and it just doesn’t sound the same coming from a girl.

“Whatever,” he replies as he tries to figure this out.

---<>---

Caitlin’s family is preparing for a game night when we arrive. It’s great to get out of the heat and into the air conditioned splendor of their home. They have a couple of board games out and are debating which to try first.  The boys are arguing for Risk, the parents want to play Ticket to Ride. Apparently Caitlin and I are to break the tie but it’s a split decision for us.  A flip of the coin breaks the tie and we set up the board for Risk. The boys are pretty happy with their victory. Since I sided with them on the vote, I’ve become more acceptable in their eyes.

Mrs. Sommers has put together a mini-buffet for everyone to graze on as the game progresses. The boys gain the early lead, but then Caitlin and I coordinate our efforts to wipe them off the board. In the end, however, it’s Dr. Sommers who ends up ruling the world. It was fun, even though the two boys grumble a bit about being double teamed by the girls. My new found cool reputation is somewhat tarnished by the end of the evening. What really feels good, however, is how welcome I feel in their home. You’d think I was just another daughter. I really like this family.

At one point after the game, Dr. Sommers and I end up alone out on the patio while everyone else is otherwise engaged in some task.

“So,” he innocently asks me, “how do you like being a spy?”

My heart rate accelerates a bit at this and my delayed sweat begins. I’m sure that I have the deer-in-the-headlights look on my face. Just what did Aunt Jen tell him yesterday?

He must see the panic in my expression as he continues, “Your Aunt told me that there’s someone out there trying to find a security leak at the Lab. You’re the perfect choice. You’re a fresh face from out of town. You’re young which would cause many people to discount you. You’re extraordinarily bright which you’re not good at hiding–you don’t do dumb blonde very well, you know.  Also you live with Jen. Not to mention that you’ve worked your way into the hearts of the families of two of our leading scientists. I’d say you’ve earned an A-minus in the spy department.”

I just stare at him.

Looking me in the eye he seriously asks, “Is your friendship with my daughter genuine?”

“Dr. Sommers,” I finally reply with a hurt look, “I love Caitlin to pieces. Really I do. Yes, it was an assignment to learn about you and Caitlin seemed like the key to doing that. I was led to believe that she’s a troubled teen girl who was hard to deal with but I find her to be great fun and a good friend. I’m so happy that I’ve become her friend.”

“She was getting difficult,” he admits, “but you’ve worked wonders in her life. I can’t say that I like being spied on, but I have to admit that I’m indebted to you for bringing back the happy girl we used to have in our house.”

“I don’t know that I’ve done anything,” I admit to him, “She’s just a wonderful girl that was struggling a little. I think her slavery at McDonalds has done more for her than I have. I’m a better person as a result of having her for a friend. In a lot of ways, I think I’ve gained a lot more than she has. Anyway, as far as the spying goes, believe me, I know the feeling.  It happened to me too and I’m still not sure how I feel about it.”

“You know,” he says gravely, “that she’ll be deeply hurt if she learns that you’re just using her to get at me.”

“Yes, Sir,” I reply contritely. “I realize that. But really, I do like her. She is one of the best friends that I’ve ever had and I won’t do anything to hurt her intentionally.”

“I know you won’t,” he says giving me a fatherly hug, “You’re a wonderful young lady. Just promise me you won’t betray my daughter’s trust in you. Now let’s go catch the bad guys. I really don’t like the idea that my work is finding its way into the wrong hands.”

“I promise,” I respond with all the sincerity I can muster. “I really do love Caitlin.”

Back in the house, I find Caitlin and we adjourn to her room for a while where I get all the details about the boy who’s asked her out Friday night. As we talk she models a number of potential outfits for the date. Apparently he’s not the ideal guy, but at least he’s a date. The boy, Al–short for Albert–is our age but more than a bit full of himself. He attends the other high school in town which is why I don’t know who he is. He’s been working up to asking Caitlin out for the past couple of weeks and finally got the nerve. She wants to double date because it’ll make her feel safer.

Andy had called me earlier and we’d chatted for just a little. Not nearly as long as I’d have liked, but I’ve been pretty busy. Anyway, I’d asked him if he’d help me do Caitlin a big favor and go to the movies Friday night. He seemed more than okay with that and with going to the beach party on Saturday–that is if he can find someone to cover for him at work.

It’s getting late so I ask Caitlin for a ride home. Two long nights in a row are tough.

---<>----

I’m trying another downtown coffee shop today.  This one doesn’t seem quite so crowded as the one I visited yesterday. On checking the Lang’s system I find only one email from Mr. Rana in the log. It simply reminds Dr. Lang to keep his computer ‘clean’ and that there are people really anxious to receive his next report.  I’m assuming the reminder to keep the computer clean means to delete all the emails between them. It’s good to have the capture program in place.

The reply email from Mrs. Lang’s sister expresses happiness over Andy’s ‘new love’ and suggests it’s about time for long telephone chat about the marriage issues.

Andy spent quite a bit of time working on the database program last night and again today. He has Wednesdays and Thursdays off from the work. It appears that he made good progress. He made quite a few searches for information on the web to help him. He ended the evening on some websites I’m not familiar with. He appears to have been reading some stories. Checking out the websites, they all contain stories about boys who become girls either by force or by choice. I never would have imagined there’d be anything like this. I don’t have time to read any of the stories, but the titles and teasers are enough to give me an idea of what they’re all about. Thinking about my circumstances, I’m sure my own story would fit in well with this genre.

Andy also went into one of his protected directories and the spyware captured the password. Using his password–the password is ‘kristina’ by the way–I peruse the directory. The one I’m looking through is an archive of stories he’s downloaded. I bet they’re from the sites he was visiting. I download a couple of the recent ones to look at later.

Things are starting to fit together now. I wonder if Andy has a desire to experience life as a girl and his parents suspect or know it. This could explain a lot in regards with comments I’ve heard.  Dr. Lang must have mentioned it to Mr. Rana and hence the comment Saturday night about Andy being more interested in being a girl than dating one.  It also fits with Andy’s comments about me turning his world upside down and with how he watches us girls. I suspect that he’s feeling envious as opposed to lustful. It also explains his gentle nature and cutting himself off from other people.

It had never dawned on me that any boy would ever actually want to be a girl or vice versa. He would have been a better candidate for my job than me.

Anyway, right now he seems to be happy to be a boy around his girlfriend. I don’t know what to do with this information. I guess I’ll just sit on it for now and see where it all goes.

---<>---

Intervals. God, I hate intervals. Especially since it is just over 100 degrees out. Fortunately we keep it short because of the heat. We all drink lots of sports drink throughout the workout. The silver lining, however, is that you feel satisfied when they’re over. 

Of course, Caitlin has to work tonight. It’s funny how she has to work every Wednesday night.  I wonder if she has to bribe the manager to get that assignment.

Dan beat me–again. To add insult to injury, Ben beat me too. That’s a first in either body. All the extra training must be doing him some good or–heaven forbid–I’m slacking off.

Don’t get used to it boys, I think to myself. Chris is coming back and he’ll kick your butts even if Tina can’t.

---<>---

It’s late evening and I find a remote carrel in the public library where I set up my laptop in privacy again. Andy’s helping his mom at the store and Laurie is off with Amy.

I’m one lucky girl tonight. Dr. Lang has his computer up and running. He’s actually watching a movie over the net. It’s not a movie that my parents would approve of. Sex videos just aren’t our cup of tea. I’ll bet his wife wouldn’t approve either. While he’s obviously distracted, I spend some time exploring his hard drive. One feature of the spyware is that it replicates on all systems on the local intranet. I find the hidden directory on Dr. Lang’s computer which contains the locally captured information and am successful at obtaining passwords to a number of programs and accounts he’s been on. Some of them are bank accounts. I can see where it’d be tempting to be a thief.

I find several other directories which look as if they contain technical information and copy those too.

I download and clean the spyware data files from his computer. His computer is pretty cluttered with years of files and many programs. I use the file explorer utility to find out which are most recently used and one program which makes the top twenty list has a cryptic name. I find the program on the computer and copy its files to my computer.  Running the program is an enlightening experience: it’s an encryption program. I’ll bet you dollars to donuts that it’s the same encryption that Aunt Jen’s experts are working on.  I copy this program to a memory stick which I brought long for this purpose. Aunt Jen will get it as soon as I get home along with the email traffic between Dr. Lang and Mr. Rana.

I make sure that I leave no traces in the network log files before exiting their systems.

---<>---

Aunt Jen is impressed. “Where’d you get this?” she asks after I tell her that the memory stick I just handed her has an encryption program which probably matches the files found on Mr. Rana’s computer and some emails between Dr. Lang and Mr. Rana.

“Do you really want to know?” I ask in return. “I’ve probably broken a dozen laws getting it, so maybe I should keep my methods to myself. Just check it out and let me know if it works.”

She disappears into her den and closes the door. I’m sure someone important will have the program within minutes.

I wander back to my room and send a text to Dr. Quinn using my non-company cell phone.

Need to go for a relaxed jog in am. C U @ 6? - ur grl

I’m in a pink chemise night gown brushing my hair and idling flipping through a teen magazine reading makeup tips when the reply finally comes.

OK 6 @ tree :(

I smile as I imagine him rolling his eyes at the early morning start.

Andy calls when he gets home and we talk for over half an hour. I get a warm feeling just talking with him. It’s not as good as being held by him, but it’s nice. I hate to hang up. I think he feels the same way.

I finish the night by completing my weekly questionnaire.  There’s no indication that whoever is writing these knows that we’re on to something.  I make sure to give responses which would lead the reader to believe that I’m getting nowhere fast.

---<>---

Six o’clock seems a bit earlier than it used to. I guess all these late nights have messed up my routine. It’s also bordering on being cold out here standing under the tree waiting for Dad to appear. I’m glad I decided to wear a sweat shirt this morning. It’s not the sexiest outfit around, but then again I don’t need to impress my Dad.

“There you are,” a voice catches me by surprise and results in a squeal.

“Don’t scare me like that,” I scold him.

“It was too tempting to pass up,” he grins in the early morning semi darkness. “So what’s up, sweetheart?”

“Let’s run,” I suggest, “I’m getting cold.”  It’s actually a balmy sixty degrees out but the recent run of hot weather has made even that feel cold.

Once we get going we start talking.

“Whose phone did you use to text me last night?” he asks.

“I picked up one that the lab doesn’t know about for use on special occasions,” I reply.

“Great idea,” he compliments me. “Just use it sparingly. So, what is on the agenda this morning?”

“Is there some big project coming to a head in the Ignition Facility?” I ask him.

“Why do you want to know?” he asks in reply.

“Well,” I respond, “I think I’ve found the spy in the Ignition group and they’re promising to deliver some kind of report in the near future to someone who I think is passing this information on to terrorist groups. If there is something big happening, we need to find a way to prevent the information for getting in the wrong hands.”

“How’d you find this out?” he questions me.

“I don’t think you really want to know the answer to that question,” I tell him. “Let’s just say that I’ve probably broken way too many laws this week.”

“Can you tell me who your suspect is?” he asks.

“Dr. Lang,” I reply.

“Horace, eh?” He says thoughtfully. “He’s a pretty bright fellow. He’s made some pretty big strides in his small laser weapons research lately but there are some outstanding problems which he and his team are still working on. I get the feeling that he’s not getting a lot of support from his team since he’s hard to work for.  His attitude towards his team is slowing things down.  Heck, every female member of his team has left to other assignments. We’d have replaced him by now if he wasn’t so dang bright. The guy is a technical genius. Even still, I can’t begin to think why he’d sell out.”

“I don’t know the reason either,” I inform him, “but something has to be done to stop him. Right now there’s not enough evidence to do so legally. I don’t think anything I’ve gathered so far would be admissible in court.” I also tell him a little about my lawyer friend, Mr. Rana.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he points out. “You’re not supposed to be getting in harm’s way, you know.”

“Yeah,” I agree, “it’s just that we’ve pretty much established that there is a problem in the security team–thanks to your planted reports.  By the way, can you get me another one of those reports?  There’re more people working on this now and they want to attempt tracking where these reports go.”

“Is today good enough for you?” he asks

“That’d be perfect,” I smile at him. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes,” he says, “Horace is getting close to completing a big project which promises some real breakthroughs. This is why the security team is anxious to wrap this up soon. If what he says is happening, it promises to be a major step for both the Ignition project as well as a small arms project which is top secret. In the wrong hands, the technology will make life incredibly difficult for our troops or anyone else the opposition wishes to target. I suspect that a lot of people will get hurt or be killed. This really can’t get out. That’s why they brought you in.”

“We’ve got to stop him,” I mention the obvious.

“I agree but we need some real evidence to do that,” he points out.  “I take it that there are people who are working on that?”

“Yes,” I proceed to give him a condensed version of our little group being lead by Aunt Jen and Mrs. Harrison and about what I’ve found on Dr. Lang’s computer. I don’t mention the Major.

“There might be some things I can do to slow Horace down while the team tries to get evidence against him,” he says after thinking about what I’ve told him. “Don’t be too surprised if he takes a trip out of town for a few days. He’s overdue to report on his project to the funding agency so maybe we’ll have him go do that in person. Also, in addition to giving you some data to send today, I’ll drop a hint to Horace about another report which I will make sure is flawed and we’ll see if he picks it up and sends it on. Keep an eye on his email, Tina.”

Changing subjects, he asks, “How are you holding up? You seem pretty comfortable as girl now. If what your mother tells me is true you’ve even found a boyfriend. Horace’s son I believe.”

“I have,” I blush. “It’s also part of the mission.”

“A fringe benefit, I suppose,” he sadly smiles.

“Daddy, don’t worry,” I tell him, “I’ll be back as Chris again soon, I promise. It’s just that this female body comes with a physically female brain and is loaded with female hormones. I’m just going with the flow. It’ll all change when I get my old body back.”

“Just remember all those things I told you about hormones as you started becoming a young man,” he says, “It’s more critical now as a girl. You can really screw up your life if you don’t keep things under control.”

“I know, Daddy,” I smile at him. “I remember everything you said and I’m being good a good girl–honest.”

“I just hope your boyfriend treats you well,” he says with some intensity. “If he doesn’t then I’ll personally make life difficult for him.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” I reassure him. “Andy’s nothing like his father. He’s a real gentleman.”

We continue talking as we jog. It’s so good to be with my dad again.

We part company as we get back into town. As I watch him leave I get to feeling a little melancholy. I miss our father/son time. That’ll be something I’ll be glad to see again when this is over.

I have to hurry to get ready for work on time. It’s worth it, though, to get a morning run in. I like running in the cool morning as opposed to the hot afternoon.

---<>---

I look up from my computer screen at the reception desk to see Dr. Lang passing through the office to the conference room.  I put on my biggest smile and say as sweetly as possible, “Well, good morning, Dr. Lang.”

He just scowls at me and insincerely replies, “Good morning, Miss Jeffers.” As he disappears into the conference room, I decide that Dr. Lang is definitely not one for small talk.

I’m somewhat surprised to see my dad show up a few minutes later. “Good Morning, Dr. Quinn,” I greet him with a real smile, “How are you on this fine day?”

He stops for a minute to say hello and he asks about my day. I think I can learn a lot from Dad about how to work with people. He takes a genuine concern about the people around him. He disappears into the same meeting that Dr. Lang is in.

---<>---

Later in the morning I have more questions about network programming for my library project, so I go to see Steve the programmer.

“So,” he asks, “have you been checking up on your boyfriend?”

“A little,” I admit.

“No other girlfriends in the closet, or anything like that?” he asks.

“Nothing earthshaking,” I tell him.

After he spends some time helping me solve my programming problem, I ask, “Hypothetically speaking, if you wanted to divert someone’s email from their personal computer so that it doesn’t reach the intended receiver but ends up somewhere it could be reviewed and modified before being sent on can it be done?”

“You mean,” he asks, “like a censor program? You know, like what they used to do in World War Two with soldier’s mail?”

“Yeah,” I say, “something like that.”

“Is this hypothetical person using a local mail client?” he asks.

I tell him what mail client Dr. Lang is using on his home computer.

“You can get in a lot of trouble messing with people’s email, you know,” he tells me.

“You mean, like uploading spyware onto someone’s computer?” I ask innocently.

“Yeah,” he grimaces as he recalls helping me do just that. “Okay, I can write a program to do that fairly easily. I’ll let you know when I get something done. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in going on a date with me in exchange?”

“Sorry, Steve,” I smile at him. “I’m too young for you, but I’ll tell you what I can do. I can introduce you to a wonderful young lady who is currently between boyfriends.”

“Oh,” his interest peaks, “Is she as cute as you?”

“Cuter,” I assure him with a smile.

“When can I meet her?” he asks with interest.

“How about at lunch?” I grin.

“Like, as in today?” he asks with surprise.

“Yeah, like as in right now,” I say looking at my watch. “If you’re ready.”

“Okay,” he starts to sweat.  I don’t think he’s had a lot of success with girls. “Give me five minutes to save things here.”

While waiting for Steve to wrap up his work, I duck down the hall and give Tiff a quick call on my cell.

“Hey, Tiff,” I tell her, “I need a big favor from you.”

“What’s that, Tina,” she says with suspicion.

“I need to you to have lunch with a programmer from whom I need a personal favor,” I tell her. “He asked me out in exchange for the favor. But I’m too young for him and have a boyfriend right now. I counter offered to introduce to him to a really cute girl his age. Just meet us in the cafeteria for lunch in fifteen minutes.”

“I’m not seeing guys right now,” she informs me.

“You don’t have to go out with him,” I tell her, “just have lunch with him. I’ll owe you big time if you do. You won’t even have to pay for lunch. Please?”

She sighs, “Okay, I’ll do it. But just lunch. That’s all he gets.”

“Great, Tiff,” I thank her, happily, “You’re the greatest.”

On the walk to the cafeteria, Steve is as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof.

“Settle down,” I coach him. “It’s just lunch. Her name is Tiff and she’s a really sweet girl. I should tell you that she just dumped the guy she was dating because he was a lecherous bastard and she’s leery of guys right now. He couldn’t keep his hands where they belong. You will have to take things really slow with her. Be patient. Just be a perfect gentleman and everything will go alright. By the way, lunch is on me,” I tell him as I hand him a twenty dollar bill. I also give him a few tips on what I mean about being a gentleman, just to make sure he doesn’t screw things up.

Tiff is waiting for us at the door where I do the introductions.

“Look, kids,” I joke playfully with them, “I’ve got an errand to run for the Director’s office. You two are both wonderful people so just relax and enjoy lunch.”

Tiff gives me a look that says this had better be good or the payback will be bitch as I leave them.

I just hope she gives him a chance.

---<>---

Gabi has worked her magic again. Thanks!

“Look, kids,” I joke playfully with them, “I’ve got an errand to run for the Director’s office. You two are both wonderful people so just relax and enjoy lunch.”

Tiff gives me a look that says this had better be good or the payback will be bitch as I leave them.

I just hope she gives him a chance.

Chapter 41: Decisions

For lunch, I settle for just a small salad and a coffee–I'm starting to get an upset stomach for some reason–as I begin to checkout last night’s happenings on the Lang’s home network.

After logging in I find that there have been no emails sent since I checked last night. Dr. Lang had spent some time online doing some banking after he watched his movie.  Other than that, not much else of note happened. He seems to have logged off about the time Andy and his mother would have gotten home.

I’m just starting to look at some of Andy’s stored files when my cell phone starts moaning. Speaking of the devil, it’s a call from Andy.

“Hey, Andy,” I answer the phone happily.

“Hey, Tina,” he says in return. “You got a minute?”

“Sure, Andy,” I smile, “I’m at the Panama Coffee Shop on 1st Street for a bite of lunch. Do you have time to join me?”

“Wow! You’re in town? I can be there in five minutes,” he says excitedly before hanging up.

I quickly cover my tracks in the access logs of his home network, power down, and stow the computer in its carrying bag before he arrives.

He gives me a quick kiss in greeting on arrival; “How’d you get away from work?” he asks. “You should have told me you’d be in town. You know I have today off.”

“I needed to get a few things for the Director’s office so I just left early to try and get a few errands of my own in,” I tell him, “but mine can wait. It’s great to see you.”

We spend the next twenty minutes or so talking about anything that comes to mind–none of it too deep. We’re just a couple of good friends passing the time. I do bring up the subject of tomorrow night’s date and Saturday’s ski party.  Apparently he really had to twist the arm of a co-worker to cover for him on Saturday but all is taken care of. He’ll just work her evening shift on Sunday in addition to his own.

As we talk, I get the impression that something is bothering him.

“Is everything okay?” I ask him gently.

“In many ways things are really great right now,” he tells me. “I’ve never before felt like I do when I’m around you. Heck, I’ve never felt like I do when I just think of you–which is just about all the time. You make my heart sing.”  I know the feeling. I felt the same way about Laurie when our relationship was new and I feel that way now about Andy.

“But–?” I lead him on.

He frowns and sighs; “It’s just that I wish my parents felt the same way about each other. Last night when we got home, Dad made a sarcastic remark about how her place was at home and not working late. It was like a spark to black powder.  I thought the resulting argument would blow the roof off the house. I don’t know what’s keeping those two together.

“To make it worse, he said a number of rude things about what he thinks I should be doing with you so I joined the fray this time. Mom was pretty unhappy about the way I told him off but then again she did the same thing. It was pretty crazy. Dad ended up sleeping on the couch in the family room. I voted to just kick him out. I guess I really lost it.

“I suppose that I’ll always love him in some way, but I won’t put up with the way he treats Mom or the way he talks about you. In recent years he’s really done a poor job with his family. He treats both Mom and me like dirt, but she’s gotten the brunt of it. I just hideaway in my room. We never spend time together anymore.

“Mom and I talked about it for a while this morning. She told me that she’s about had it with Dad and is thinking of divorcing him. She’s been worried about what this’ll do to me. I told her that I’ve suspected this might happen for some time. I also told her that I’m all for it at this point, particularly after last night. I think she’s going to see a lawyer this afternoon to see what she’ll have to do. She wants to talk with me more after she talks to the lawyer.”

Surreptitiously, I turn off my cell phone and casually push it deep into my purse which I quietly drop under the table. I don’t want our mole in the security team to hear any more of this.

“I hope she’s not going to see Mr. Rana,” I say with concern..

“No,” he replies, “She doesn’t care for the man, plus he’s a golfing buddy of my father’s. A friend of hers recommended someone else who’s done a good job representing several other women in difficult cases.”

“Do you expect it to get nasty?” I ask him.

“Oh, yes,” He says emphatically. “If last night is any indication it will be very nasty. Dad made some veiled threats saying she’d regret the day she even thinks of leaving him. I really don’t know why he wants the relationship to continue since he’s obviously not enjoying it either.”

“Did he say exactly what he’d do to make her regret leaving?” I ask with alarm building in my heart. Knowing his relationship with Mr. Rana this could be bad.

“Not really,” he shrugs. “I guess he’ll try to leave her penniless or he’ll really be a pain or something.” It’s the ‘or something’ which has me worried.

“When is your mother planning on separating?” I ask–it would be disastrous to my investigation if it happens too soon.

He shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know. I guess she’ll have to make some kind of decision after seeing the lawyer.”

We talk for a few minutes longer than we should. I’m running late for work when we embrace for a long goodbye kiss before parting ways.  Tomorrow evening seems so far away.

---<>---

When I return to the reception desk after lunch I find the ‘misplaced’ top secret file in my desk file drawer. I call Mrs. Harrison on the office phone to let her know that I’m about to transmit a file of interest using a prearranged code word. She gives the go ahead to proceed.  I’m able to take the necessary pictures without interruption then hit the transmit sequence.

I’m feeling fairly crappy:  a slight stomach ache, tender breasts, and a little bloated. It’s getting close to my next period. Why can’t it wait until after the weekend? I just sigh and head to the Ladies room to install a pad–just in case.

I spend the rest of the afternoon meeting with the organizers of the office picnic then putting together fliers and lists for them.

---<>---

As the three of us walk out to the car for the ride home from work, Aunt Jen brings Laurie and me up to date on what she’s been working on.

“Tina,” she begins, “You were right about the encryption program. It does create files matching those we found on Mr. Rana’s computer.  Not only that but it opens them as well. We’ve recovered encrypted files sent to Mr. Rana from four different Lab employees and I’m told that we’re intercepting all email traffic that hits his office computer.” Doesn’t that sound familiar?, I think to myself. “Someday you’ll need to tell me how you got it. I’m assuming it came from the Lang’s home computer system. Tina, you need to be careful about hacking other peoples computers. It could get you in trouble. You should let me have the professionals do it.

“Also,” she continues, “the account information you supplied was very interesting. Apparently Dr. Lang has an offshore account that holds over five million dollars in it. I can tell you he’s not earning that kind of money here. We’re pretty sure he’s our leak in the Ignition Facility.

“Some of the emails we’ve been able to get from Mr. Rana’s computer indicate that someone is getting desperate for more information. He’s made some not-so-veiled threats of professional and personal harm to some of his contacts. The pressure is on. This should make it more likely for them to make mistakes as they try to meet his demands. We just need to be ready when they do.

“Laurie, We’re now sure that Rachel Conners is the leak in the Energetic Materials Center.  It’s clear that she’s been trying to make it look as if Dr. Sommers is the traitor. We now have Dr. Sommers on board and he’s cooperating by helping to gather evidence against her. Laurie you can stand back and let us take it from here. It’s time to just be another intern. We no longer have a need for you to get close to her.”

“Mom,” Laurie says, “I sent in the first false report planted by Dr. Sommers this afternoon. Hopefully that’ll help. I also tried talking with Rachel today but didn’t get very far with her. She’s pretty arrogant and petty. I’m glad I don’t have to pursue that assignment.”

“I also sent a report from the Ignition facility today,” I add.

“Susan is following those,” she tells us. “Hopefully we’ll have enough information to nail our leak in the security team pretty soon. One of the other people who’ve sent encrypted files to Mr. Rana is on the security team.

“You should also know that we’ve brought in some outside federal investigators to work on the case.  Your evidence, Tina, was enough to convince them to join the fray. The encryption program you’ve given us is a huge break which makes it possible for us to move the investigation quickly. Now that we’re pretty sure we know who the bad guys are we just need to collect sufficient evidence to convict them. The best thing we can do is to catch them in the act. The tricky part is that we need to be careful not to tip any of them off before we have enough evidence on the whole group. Not only that, but we’re still trying to trace the flow of information after it leaves Mr. Rana. We must take the whole network down.”

After we’re all settled in the car the conversation continues.

“Tina,” she says, “as I told you before, we can return you to being Chris anytime now. You’ve done more than we’ve asked. We have professionals working the case now. Anyway, darling, you’ve done your part. We have a plan in place for your transformation back to Chris when you are ready.”

There it is again–the choice is before me. What do I do?  For now I just sit pondering the situation.

“Tina,” Laurie breaks into my pondering, “I’m enjoying having you around, but if you want to go away as Chris for the rest of the summer, I’ll understand. As I see it, I can be around Tina this summer or without both of you. To tell you the truth, I prefer to have you around. You’ve made this a very interesting summer.”

I’ve got four more weeks before I’m scheduled to ‘leave for Alaska’. I can spend it being a girl or hanging out in the mountains as Chris. I really need to think about this. Both options have their appeal but both have their downsides.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Aunt Jen says with concern in her voice when I don’t respond. I guess I’ve been awfully quiet.

“I don’t know what to do,” I honestly say. “I don’t think I’m done with Dr. Lang yet. I’ve got a project in the works right now which will seal his fate if all works out well.  I can’t leave until that’s done. I don’t know how long that’ll take. Also, I’d like to finish my library database and finish helping organize the office picnic if I can.”

“And then,” Laurie points out with a sly grin, “there’s the little matter of Andy.”

“And Caitlin,” I add trying vainly to deflect her focus.

“We can turn your project with the Langs over to the professionals if you want,” Aunt Jen points out. “I should tell you that it’s the FBI which is taking over the case so we have lots of help. If we can trace the trail out of the country, we’ll probably get the CIA and Homeland Security in on this too. I suspect that they’ll want to talk to both of you real soon.”

“Nah,” I sigh, “This is something I have to do myself. I’ve got to see it through. I think being in their home regularly will be a great help to my work. The FBI won’t be able to do that.”

I guess I’ll be Tina just a little while longer.

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“You seem depressed today,” Caitlin observes when she picks me up for running practice an hour later. I’ve been pondering my option for an early out and don’t really like the fact that I’m of two minds on the subject. Heck, I’ve even checked with Brain Central which has been pretty quiet for a while. Apparently Brain Central only worries about potential threats to my security. It doesn’t see any threats either way.

“I’m feeling a bit out of sorts,” I absently tell her as I gaze vacantly out the window and fiddle with my runner’s necklace. What I’m not going to tell her is about my other issues. I still can’t get Aunt Jen’s offer out of my mind.

“You’re not planning another abusive run, are you?” she asks. “You look like you have a lot on your mind.”

“Well, maybe,” I admit. “I doubt the run will be too abusive. It’s still too hot for a really good run. I’m feeling a little down though. It’s probably just that time of the month again. God, I hate periods.” I installed a tampon for safety’s sake before leaving the house even though there’s no sign of blood yet. I don’t think I could ever get used to the strangeness of having one of those devices stuck up inside me.

“I hear ya, sister,” she commiserates with me. “Yours must be worse than mine.  I had mine last week and it wasn’t bad at all. But, like, you seem a more melancholy than that. What’s eating you? Are you having troubles with Andy already?”

“Nah,” I reply in an attempt to cover the true reason for my melancholy, “It’s nothing like that. Andy’s the bright spot in my life right now. I don’t know what’s wrong. I just feel the need to think tonight. I suppose I am feeling a little depressed.”

“Actually,” she confidently assures me, “what you need is Caitlin’s surefire treatment for depression. And you’ll get it–right after running practice.”

“And just what is it that Dr. Caitlin prescribes?” I ask with trepidation. I’m having visions of another in depth girl-to-girl chat with more detail than I’m willing to divulge.

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that,” she evades my question with an evil leer. “Dr. Caitlin will take care of everything.  You just go run your pretty little tush off then we’ll take care of your problem. That’s what girl friends are for.”

All pleas for information are simply met with a smile that reads you’ll see. Well, I decide, first I’ll do it my way–on the road.

I’m doing a warm up stretches when Dan arrives. I wave him over to talk to me.

“Hey, Dan,” I greet him with a crocodile smile. “You up to helping me work through another problem?”

He groans and rolls his eyes, “I have strict orders from Suzie to run the other way when you have troubles.”

I give him my best little girl pout, “Oh, come on, Danny boy.  It’s just a little problem this time.  We’ll only run half the distance we did last time.” I outline one of Chris’s mid range work-it-out workouts for him. It’s not any longer than what they already have planned–it just has a couple of BIG hills in it.

“You know, Tina,” he says, “you’re really starting to freak me out. You have to be in touch with Chris to figure out these routes.”

“I’ve never met him,” I tell him off handedly. In a way that’s true. Tina and Chris have never–physically that is–been in the same place at the same time.

In the end, all the guys decide to join me. I’m not sure all of them are convinced it’s a good idea. The girls pick a route that avoids the big hills. We should finish about the same time.

The faster boys keep up with me reasonably well. We do string out a few of the slower ones. I don’t really get the time to contemplate on this run as there is a bit of chatter going amongst the guys. I tune them out as we head up the first big hill.

What do I do about changing back? That’s the question on the agenda today.

I’ve completed what the Lab tasked me with. The spy network has been exposed. All that’s left is evidence gathering and that’s best left to the professionals. I wonder what the plan is for extracting me?  I’ve never asked about that. It needs to be done in such a way as not to draw attention to my primary mission at the Lab and I have to disappear totally in a way that no one will search for me.

If my primary mission is over, why stick around? The obvious reason is Andy. I’d like to savor my relationship with him as long as I can. I know that the deeper the relationship gets the harder it’ll be to end, but I want the memory of this summer with him. And I want it to be a happy memory. Also, if his mother does decide to divorce her husband, then maybe I can be there for him as he goes through the inevitable emotional turmoil. If his father gets busted, I can also help–although I might not be so welcome if my role in the whole sorry mess comes out.  I suspect that I could give Mrs. Lang some ammunition to use in the divorce proceedings if necessary. I bet she doesn’t know about the offshore accounts–and I have almost everything in place to catch Dr. Lang red-handed. There’s also a lot more I can do in the Lang household–things that’d be easier for me to do than some federal investigator who can’t get into the house.

And then there’s Caitlin. I’ve really come to love Caitlin as a girl friend. I’ve noticed that her two sidekicks have been out of sight for the last week or so. She hasn’t said anything about either of them–she seems to have become a totally new person recently. Come to think of it, she hasn’t even really complained about her job this week. I want to stay as close to her as I can this summer. I’ll never be able have this kind of relationship again. I want it to last as long as possible.

And don’t forget Laurie: I haven’t been making nearly enough time for her this summer, but at least I’ve not been gone all summer either. I can’t shake the sinking feeling that we’ll never regain what we had before the change. We’re too much girl friends now. She might be able accept me as her boyfriend Chris when this is over since she doesn’t see the strong connection between Tina and Chris. Unfortunately, I can’t disassociate the same way so it’ll be much harder for me. We’ve been too close as girl friends for me to make the change easily. I won’t be able to forget sharing clothes together and doing the things that girl friends do. Heck, I can’t count the times I’ve seen her naked or just in her underwear–something I never expected to do until our wedding night. In many ways, our girl friend relationship is much deeper than anything we experienced as boy/girlfriend. Is it worth it to lose the romantic relationship for the close friend relationship?

In a lot of ways, I really want to savor being Tina for as long as I can. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Also, it seems natural to put off painful experiences as long as possible–even when we know that the longer we wait the harder it gets–which brings up the other side of the argument.

The sooner I get back to being Chris, the easier it’ll be for Tina to disappear. I know in my mind that this is a true principle, but my heart seems willing to accept the pain as part of the price for the experience. There’s definitely a conflict there.

To have a month of paid vacation hiking and fishing in the Sierra’s would be a dream come true for Chris. Sure he’d miss everyone–particularly Laurie–but wow–what an opportunity! The time would be useful for readjusting to being Chris and for the memory of Tina to fade away from everyone’s minds before Chris returns.

The smart thing to do would be to pull the plug now. That’s the kind of decision which would be a no-brainer for Chris. Chris takes the long view and is adverse to things which cause pain.

For Tina, on the other hand, the decision would be to stay and enjoy the here and now with due respect to the future. She is enjoying her current life and is willing to deal with the fallout when it is forced to come to an end.

Well––I’m Tina now, so I guess Tina wins. She’ll stay for the duration. Coming to the decision lifts a load from my mind and I feel much better.

Dan’s voice breaks into my contemplation. “You look as if you’ve come to a decision. So, did you solve your dilemma?”

“Yeah,” I grin, “I have.”

He has the decency to not ask for details.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I ask him as we top the last hill.

“Nah,” he replies with a grin, “I can handle the small problems.”

The run was relatively short–it only took a little over half an hour for our group.  Caitlin led the faster girls into the school stadium just before we arrive. I give Dan the customary Dan/Chris high five as we finish our run.

“Thanks, dude,” I tell him. “I really needed that. I owe you another one.”

“Too weird,” he shakes his head muttering to himself. “This is just too weird.”

Caitlin greets me with a pout, “You look much better now,”

“What’s wrong with that?” I ask.

“Dr. Caitlin didn’t get a chance work her cure.” she tells me.

“Oh,” I say trying to act as if I’m in pain. “I’m not all better. What does the doctor recommend?”

She looks much happier, “You’ll see. I’ve just about got it all arranged.”

She wanders off for a few minutes to make a private phone call then we take off. After leaving the school, we swing by the local grocery store where she picks up a large–and I mean LARGE–tub of ice cream with the ominous name of Death by Chocolate, some paper bowls, and a few of plastic spoons. The next stop is at a picnic table under a shady oak tree in a local park where we find Laurie and several girls from the running team waiting for us.

“Hey, cousin,” Laurie greets me. “Caitlin says it’s chocolate therapy time. I wouldn’t miss it for anything!”

“This,” Caitlin says waving at the bucket of ice cream after setting it on the table, “is the cure for whatever ails you. It seems that being a tomboy, Tina, has deprived you of some very special girl experiences.  One of those special things is drowning your troubles in chocolate ice cream with your best girl friends.”

“You bet,” one of the other runners exclaims excitedly. “It really helps. The only problem is you have to run extra long for the next week to work off the calories.”

Over the next hour we work our way through the melting ice cream. It’s still hot–around 90 degrees–which makes the ice cream taste even better. Everyone shares funny stories of various types–all from an intensely feminine perspective. Nothing is sacred. I’ve heard of such gatherings before, but no guy will ever experience one. This is definitely a girls-only event and I feel that I really belong here.

As darkness gathers the girls begin to drift off to other things. I make sure to hug and thank each one. Caitlin is right. I do feel much better for the experience.

Giving her a hug, I thank Caitlin for being such a wonderful friend as we part for the evening.

On the way home with Laurie I contemplate what happened this evening. I had been feeling melancholy for some reason and I initially dealt with it as a boy would: intense physical exercise coupled with solitary contemplation. It’s the old I-can-solve-this-by-myself approach that most males use when dealing with their problems–they feel there’s something unmanly about involving others in the process. As a problem solving strategy it really works to erase the storm clouds by making me focus directly on and analyze the issues and avenues for dealing with them. This approach allows me to come to a rational plan of action. I always feel better when I’ve decided on a course of action.

The chocolate therapy party with the girls is a totally different approach to dealing with problems, but is also very effective. We never really explicitly addressed my problems but somehow I felt better about them when we were done. We just shared stories and feelings, laughed and even cried a little together. Even though we didn’t analyze or come to any conclusions it just felt good to feel the love and support of my new peers. It gives me hope and strength to face the world. I’m not alone. We all have problems and we need to love and support each other. It’s a great feeling. While guys often talk, it’s different. Guys are always just trying to solve the problem. It’s not the same. I wonder if guys have any clue about how wonderful these support sessions are? I know that Chris didn’t. 

Suddenly, I remember that I need to be checking my spyware on the  Langs’ system. After getting home, I grab Chris’s old laptop and head out the library–promising to be back soon.

After sneaking into their system electronically, I discover it’s computing night at the Lang house tonight.  All their computers are running. The two parents are working on email and Andy seems to be working on his website.

Checking the log, I find another email to Dr. Lang from Mr. Rana sent earlier in the day. In the email, he mentions that they really want to know when the new report can be delivered. The sooner the better. Uh, oh… what’s this? Mr. Rana warns Dr. Lang to cautious around me, hinting that he’s discovered something about me that’s ‘not quite right’.  I wonder what he’s found.

Dr. Lang just sent him a reply with an attachment. Reading the email, I discover that he’s attached a report from my father’s project. I just hope it’s the one Dad told me about! He also tells Mr. Rana that there will be another delay because he’s been called to Washington to discuss his progress with some important people. It would seem that he’s not especially looking forward to the trip.  He leaves Monday morning. Curiously, he asks Mr. Rana to arrange the ‘entertainment’ which Mr. Rana apparently arranged on his last trip. He gives Mr. Rana his hotel information. This could be useful. I copy the file and email onto my memory stick to be given to Aunt Jen when I get home.  I hope that Steve the programmer can get the email interception program done soon.  I’ll have to check with him tomorrow.

Mrs. Lang has received an email from her sister encouraging her to ‘leave the bastard’. I get the feeling that the sister has little love for her brother-in-law. Mrs. Lang replied that she’d been to see a lawyer about a divorce.  The lawyer told her that she had a good case but it’d be useful if they had some incriminating evidence against her husband. Things would go much better if he’s caught with his hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. She doesn’t think she’ll find anything, but promised to wait a week or two to see what she could dig up, however she doesn’t hold out much hope–after all, there’s not been threats of physical violence. I think I can help her with the dirt! She comments that her husband is going to be gone most of next week and that she’s looking forward to some peace for a few days.

I’m just finishing up when an attractive mid-twenty something woman comes up to my study carrel obviously looking for me. She’s in very good shape and apparently likes to show it. She’s wearing skin tight low rise jeans and a tank top that stops just short of her ornate belt. She’s blonde with pure blue eyes.

“Hi,” she says with a friendly smile as she drags over a chair from the adjacent carrel. “So you’re the famous Kristina Jeffers. I’ve been hearing a lot about you lately.”

Who is this woman? My confusion must clearly show.

“Sorry,” she apologizes as she sits down while digging around in her book pack, “I’m Stephanie Adams,” and with big smile pulls out a small wallet to reveal an FBI badge before slipping it back in her pack. “I’m here to give you a hand, though from what I hear you don’t need the help. If your Aunt is correct, you could save the world single-handedly.”

Oh boy, I think to myself, I’ve just joined the big leagues. This could be fun. It will definitely be interesting.

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 Edited by Gabi–for which I am very grateful.