Chapter I

 

      “…You must try to remember that both your father and I love you very much. We were so hoping to be able to send for you this Christmas…”

     “Yeah Right,” I whispered to myself as I carefully folded the letter every bit as lovingly before slipping it back into it's envelope. In my mind's eye, I could imagine ripping it to shreds before taping it back together just so I could stab holes in it with my letter opener. I would like to have burned it too, but then I would not be able to send the whole thing back to my loving mother marked: “No such addressee, 'My beloved Son.'

Postage due.

It was just so like my mother to send a hand written letter just to tell me that I would not be seeing my parents for the third Christmas in a row. Knowing my mother, I was a little surprised she didn't have it engraved on the finest gilded cardstock before sending it to “Her beloved son.”

My dad, who E-mailed me several times a week, was by far the more practical of my parents. He had, of course, already told me that with the way things were going that it did not look too good for them to come home this year, or for me to fly over to them. He'd already told me that several times actually. I think the first time was in June.

I hate it when I cry. I'm sixteen. I swore that I wasn't going to let them get to me ever again. I figured that some kids have families, and that some kids have money. Some kids have both, but there are a lot more that have neither. I supposed that it was better to have one or the other, but at least I wasn't like those kids we'd met, who'd spent their whole lives in foster homes and orphanages. Those poor kids… they had nothing.

That didn't help very much just now. The burning that I felt behind my eyes got even worse, as I felt myself slipping toward self-pity.

My eyes were just a little watery as I looked at my mother's letter where it lay in my lap. Taking it to my desk, I carefully pressed it flat on the blotter. I read the envelope, and said “Humph.” softly, when I realized that the letter had come from Switzerland again. I knew that my dad was in Germany yesterday. Slitting the sides of the envelope, I pressed that flat too, before I clipped them together, so that I could store them both in my letterbox. Somehow, it just seemed important to know where each letter had been written.

I pushed a small gold locket I kept there aside, before slipping the new page into the box, and carefully locked it. I tried to use that as a symbol for the fact that when the whole truth was told, it came down to just this. They had their lives, and I had mine.

I was going to e-mail my mother and father to tell them that I had gotten her letter and that I was old enough to understand how busy they were, but the page on my screen was still a pristine and unsullied white when the clock chimed very softly for six. I walked into my bathroom to wash up for dinner, hoping cool water would help a little.

It was just like my mother to write a letter. When I say that my dad was more practical, I'm not saying that my mother wasn't smart. On the contrary. When it came right down to it, my mom was as sharp as they come. I mean, my dad was no slouch in any group. He ran much of his multinational corporation himself, including most of the day-to-day decisions that really mattered. He's smarter than most, but in a stand up fight, I'd have to bet on my mother. Even my father always said that she helped him more than anyone else did.

You see, not only was my mother smart, her family saw to it that she'd had the finest education available. She spoke about four languages, including French and German like a native.

She'd attended the finest schools, including a year at this finishing school for embarrassingly rich young ladies just outside Paris, which I had to admit was about as good academically as Saint Andrews. Then, because young women of her station were not actually encouraged to work, she'd gone on to attend Oxford for Languages and History, and then Edinburgh, for literature and poetry. Then it was back to Oxford, I think, which was where she met my Dad.

Dad, he had first gotten a scholarship to Princeton. His family was nothing like mom's when it came to money. Oh, they were well enough off, but like I said, nothing like my mother's family. I think they had butlers who had more money than my paternal grandparents did.

Of course I always had everything I'd needed when it came to material things. I'd also gotten a lot of what I'd asked for too, helped probably more by the fact that I'd almost never asked for anything impractical, than by what my parent's could afford. Toys and those kinds of things were just never important to me.

Dad had done a year at Harvard for his MBA after Princeton, and then a year at Oxford as part of some exchange. He had started his own business right out of school, which everyone still said was a mistake… if you can believe that. Everyone told him that he should work for someone else for a while, to learn the ropes and make mistakes, but for him that just seemed like a waste of time. Well it probably would have been. Like many people who really love what they do, he just took off. Now you can find his name in many of the year-end publications in the business genera.

Not that any of that seemed to matter much now.

Looking around as I wiped my hands, I almost started to laugh. I really was proud of both my mother and my father. They really did do a lot for me. Even here at St. Andrews, I had it pretty good. I had a private room, with my own bath, in a school where many people still had to share, no matter how much money their parents had.

Stepping out into the hall, as expected, several of my classmates were already headed toward the dining hall. What was surprising was that one of our teachers, Miss Lynn, was there too.

I guess there has to be a “Miss Lynn” in every boys’ school, if only to remind us why we wanted to grow up in the first place. We had two other female teachers, one of whom was still fairly young in her mid thirties, but neither held a candle to Miss Lynn. She was twenty-six or seven, I think, still young enough to be more like one of us than one of the other teachers. What made it worse was that she had a sense of humor, was smart, and just plain beautiful.

She was a great teacher, holding lectures in just about any science or math. She had this gift of being able to answer any question in a way that anyone could understand. It was said that the only reason they hired her in the first place, was because she took the place of several other teachers, even though she was a pretty young woman, a thing that the most prestigious of boy's schools would avoid like an outbreak of communicative disease. Reservations or not, a teacher who could have been a real scientist, and who could also teach even the most advanced students, even a prestigious school like Saint Andrews could not pass up.

I was the lucky one now, though, because here I was standing face to face with her. It was enough to cheer me up, even after that stupid letter.

“Evening Chris.” She said, as she paused to smile down at me. That was another nice thing about her. Some of our other professors looked on the students as a barely necessary evil for the running of the school. Miss Lynn would often stop for a moment no matter how busy she was, to exchange a word or two, and to make sure everything was going as it should for you. Almost as often, she would share some interesting or helpful bit of information that you just couldn't believe that she had somehow connected to you. That made her even more popular, if that was even possible.

“Ah, Evening, Miss Lynn.” I could feel myself blush slightly.

“On your way to dinner?” She asked pleasantly.

“Yes, Ma'am.” I did not quite stutter, still a little flustered at having come face to face with her so suddenly. “I thought I'd beat the rush.”

This of course made her laugh. She looked down at me and patted my shoulder lightly when she did. Somehow I think that's one of the reasons why she seemed to like me Okay. Most of the other guys in my form were at least as tall as she was, and most of all the rest were a lot taller.

The rush thing was all a joke of course. Friday night was a fine night for dinners, as the evening chef usually put on a good meal for the kids staying in the school for the weekend. It was a little consolation for the kids who could not leave to be with their families most weekends. This time of year it was even more so. I was sure that no more than a third of the kids would be left by the time I was finishing up my meal.

We reached the steps, which quickly confirmed the estimate. There was a line of cars, a complete collection of the latest model Volvo's and Mercedes, with a few limousines thrown in as well. Most of the kids were being picked up by a parent, but a lot of them were picked up by drivers or cabs or other hired folk.

I stopped for a moment as I watched one of the lucky ones. It was Doug, I could see, and he was greeted by both his mother and father, and his big sister who all hugged him, before they got into the car.

Doug looked embarrassed and seemed to try and hurry everyone into the car. I wasn't sure if I wanted to laugh or cry. I only knew that if I had a family like that, I wouldn't care who was watching”

“Is everything all right, Chris?” Miss Lynn asked me softly. I had not even realized that I had stopped at the top of the stairs to watch Doug and his family. I certainly hadn't realized that Miss Lynn had stopped to watch me too.

“Yeah!” I said with all the enthusiasm that I could muster, but I'm sure I must have sounded completely terminal.

We both started to walk toward the dining hall again. Autumn evenings in New England can be very cool, and the even though it was not cold enough to need more than a good sweater, it still made my eyes sting. I was trying to find a way to tell her that everything was just fine, but somehow I just could not find the words in time to head off the inevitable big-sisterish, or best friend's mother like inquisition.

“So tell me, what are your plans for the holiday?” She asked brightly, as she stabbed straight at my vitals with an unwavering aim. “Are you going over to Europe to spend it with your family, or are they coming here?”

If it were not for the eye thing that I was trying to deal with, and the invisible evil dwarf that had just punched me in my stomach, I might even have been able to come up with a lie. “Neither, really.” I heard myself say. I could not help but glance at her just in time to see her eyebrows draw a little closer together. She was way too smart.

The corners of her mouth turned down a little too, even before I could look away, which once more had me looking at the shrinking rows of cars in the driveway. One of the guys was walking toward a limo with a swarthy man who was obviously the driver. They were playfully shoving each other as they went…

Freaking great…

“Chris?” Miss Lynn asked softly, putting her hand on my shoulder to stop me from bolting toward the door of the dining hall. “Not again?”

This was Miss Lynn's first year here at St. Andrew's School for Boys, but I suppose that there really weren't very many who didn't know about the kid who's own family wouldn't even bother to come and get him at Christmas. I mean that happened to kids every year. It always did at a place like this, but I already had the school record for having been passed over on my first two years. This time, it was bound to be the talk of the school.

She said in a low voice, “Come with me," as I felt her steer me toward the administration wing. I was sure a few of the remaining kids must have given us a curious glance or two, but I did not really care. Before I knew it, we were in her office, and she was handing me a cool cloth to wipe my face.

“I'm sorry…” I tried to explain, but looking at her face I just could not do it. What could I possibly say?

How could I explain any of this away, making her understand, when I could not even explain it to myself. Finally, all I could manage was: “I'm sorry, Miss Lynn. I didn't mean to act like a baby. It's only that I just got the letter when I got back to my room. I kind of figured that it was coming. At least I'll be able to volunteer to help hand out presents at the orphanage again this year.” I tried to smile sarcastically, but I couldn't even manage that.

I really hadn't thought before I'd said it. Her face, was far from being placated. In fact, while I watched her it had grown red with anger.

“Really, it doesn't matter. I just don't want the other guys to know, and I don't want us to miss dinner. I look forward to Friday nights with Chef.”

The joke was about as funny as gangrene on your Thanksgiving turkey.

She just looked at me for a long time before she spoke at all. It was obvious that she was trying to manage her own anger. “Chris, I've heard a rumor around…,” she began to ask finally in a soft voice, “Is it true that you were here the last two years too?”

No point in doing anything but nodding my head, and using the cloth quickly to wipe my face, being as cool as I could manage. “Thank you for this, Ma'am. I think my hay fever must be acting up or something. Pollen.” I shrugged helplessly. “Come on, Ma'am. You can go get your dinner. I'll just head back to my room and wash my face, and I'll see you there.”

I looked hopefully at her, but it was no use, because her expression only grew darker. “Besides,” I finished “I usually go to the library on Friday nights, and you can't check out books after eight thirty. I like to get a couple for the weekend.”

The darkening of her features continued. There's a lot to be said for keeping your mouth shut. I'm a walking poster child.

“You can wash up here, Chris.” She said calmly, “and we have plenty of time to get to dinner.”

She just continued to wait for me to talk, but it soon became obvious to her that there was no way that I was going to say anything else. The last two minutes of verbal incontinence would take at least a week to explain away. It would probably be up to a month before I'd even try.

“When did you find out?” She asked me to clarify in a voice that was much softer than her facial expression.

“I just got the letter this afternoon, when I went back to my room” I told her.

“I'm so sorry, Chris.” she said sympathetically at first, and then she lost it “What the hell is wrong with those people. You are a great kid. Why don't they take you over there with them, if they can't come here? I mean it's not like they can't afford to fly you over.”

“It's not like that, Miss Lynn.” I guess I'm just stupid, because I began to talk awfully fast. Again. “You don't understand. My dad just opened up a big new line, and he's been in a different country every night. I'd only be in the way there, and I'm sure that they'll make it up to me. I'll be seeing my dad at Easter anyway. He flies over to see me at least once a quarter, and by then everything should be Okay.”

Even I could hear the pathetic sound of the echoes in the silence that followed.

Calming a little, but not because of my excuses, she asked what I had not thought of as the most obvious question. “What about your mother? Can't she have visitors?”

“Well yeah, I guess, but you see she's the one who helps dad out. She's the one who speaks several languages, and her family has the connections in northern Europe. She's helping dad out most of the time.” I finally ground down to a stop, realizing how childish and unsatisfying it all sounded.

Miss Lynn did not answer immediately. She just looked at me, her mouth moving slowly up and down for a few moments before she finally said, “… She's helping him?” The only good thing was that she didn't really look as angry anymore. She looked more shocked and confused.

For the longest time she just stood there, and looked at me. Glancing at the clock, I could see that we'd been in her office for just less than ten minutes which shocked me, because it seemed like so much more. That was about the longest ten minutes of my life, if you didn't consider when I was being born.

She was still just looking at me and thinking, which made me feel very low, because I had no idea what she was thinking, and anything that I might have guessed was certain to be a subject that I did not feel up to dealing with. I tried to put an end to her scrutiny in the only way that I could. I got up, and walked past her desk into her private bathroom, and quickly washed my face before I stood for a minute pressing a towel to my eyes.

When I walked back into the office, she was waiting by the door. “Come on.” She said in a voice that was at least no longer angry, and clearly ready to make sure that I couldn't skip dinner to go back to my room. “Let's go try and beat the rush.” Her smile was… well almost a smile.

I heard myself sigh in relief as we stepped out, at which she smiled for real.

She truly did have a wonderful smile. It would be awfully hard for a person to feel bad when she did that. I mean she knew I liked her. Every boy in the school did. She must have known. It was probably why she smiled so much, because of all the agreeable if unavoidable pain it caused everyone.

“Sit and have dinner with me, Chris.” She was smiling even more now. “I'd like you to tell me about your Mom and dad.”

Just when I thought I had a chance. It was like seeing that the last ten feet of rollercoaster track were missing.

Neither of our meals was more than half-eaten where they lay on the table in front of us. Even though there were far fewer students in the dining room now, there were fewer still who wanted to be seated near us. The other boys seemed to understand that it was better to give a wide berth to an instructor and student who were obviously deep in conversation. Of course, they all kept one eye on Miss Lynn at all times anyway, so it was hardly lonely.

“You know, Chris, some women just find it very hard to be warm to…” she let the thought lie there on its own.

“No, Ma'am. It's not like that at all.” I tried to make her understand. “My mother was always very nice to me. She was never standoffish.” I felt a powerful need to make her understand that my parents were not monsters.

“She used to play with me all the time, and we'd go places almost every week.” I looked back at her earnestly, but she seemed completely unconvinced.

“And what about your father, Chris? Was he always like this?” She asked, not so much accusatory, as really trying to understand.

“Well he's always worked and traveled a lot, but when he was home, he always spent his time with mom and me. I get E-mails from him every few days, and several times a year he flies home to be with me for long weekends and things.” It really sounded worse than it was. I knew how much my parents loved me. Miss Lynn did not.

“I promise I won't take this any further, unless of course you ask me to, but I have to ask just this once.” She took a little breath, and then asked, “Do either your Mother or Father ever hit you?”

I was scared. This whole thing was turning from a bad dream into a nightmare. I could have said never and made it stick, but somehow I knew she'd know. She seemed to know everything else.

“Miss Lynn.” I started. “My parents don't abuse me. Know what this looks like, but I can honestly say that they only ever hit me when I was too small to reason with. They never hurt me. I can only remember one time that my mother ever hit me at all, and I think that was a mistake, because she
fell apart when she did it, and apologized over and over.”

Miss Lynn, reached over and put her hand on my arm, and told me in a low voice “I promise, this is just between you and me. I'm not going to do anything that will cause you any problems with your parents. Okay?”

I nodded my head.

“Tell me about the time your mother hit you.”

“Well there isn't much to tell. It was only a few years ago. We were all playing in the pool. Dad had jumped in, and my mother was trying to keep a ball away from him. I jumped on her back, and I grabbed her shoulders trying to help her keep the ball away from my father - and she just freaked. She screamed, and started swinging. I don't know what happened.”

Miss Lynn's eyes looked pained actually, so I paused for moment, only to have her give a funny little nod before she said “Go on.”

“Well that's about it really. Dad took her upstairs, and a couple of hours later, she came down still upset, and apologized. She said that I had startled her. That's all. That November I came here, and I've really only seen her a few times since, and…” I didn't know what else to say.

“I see.” She said.

She obviously didn't know what else to say either, because she changed the subject. “So, do you go to the library every Friday…”

Right after dinner, I went to the library and picked up a collection of really old Sci-fi stories, a book of poetry I wanted for class, and a book on Victorian woman's fashions. It looked like a typical weekend for me…

 
 

 
 

     “Settle down, Gentlemen.” Doctor Pope, our headmaster, called out with exaggerated patience.

Most of the kids knew just what he meant when he called us 'Gentlemen'. Don't get me wrong, he was a real nice guy, one-on-one, but he'd been dealing with the raving hoard for a long while I guess, and it showed.

“Take your seats, so we can get started.” The poor man droned.

An unannounced assembly was something that piqued everyone's interest. Perhaps they found a body in a locker, or worse, porn or drug paraphernalia. At Saint Andrews, a sudden death was explainable you see. Everything else was an honor violation.

“OK, Gentlemen,” Doctor Pope finally began with the matter at hand. “I don't want to keep you any longer than is necessary.” He paused for just a moment to make sure he had our attention as he scan the crowd. “Now, we have some news, and brevity being the most urgent requirement I will now hand this little meeting over to Mrs. Pierce. Mrs. Pierce?”

Mrs. Pierce stood up and just stared at him. She smiled, but she made no move toward the microphone.

Doctor Pope, finally smiled back at her in a concession we could all see, and stepped back to the microphone.

“Very well. I tried. Those few of you who watch Television…” he had to pause for laughter, during which time he smiled back, “know that there has been a vast increase in programming dedicated to formal dance. Well, Mrs. Pierce and I are happy to report, that she is just back from a meeting, and that our Board of Governors, who have taken note of this change, and have seen fit to direct that I take steps to ensure that all of you have some familiarity with these increasingly popular forms.”

There were enough groans and moans to make the place seem remarkably like a whale-watch excursion boat full of land lubbers caught unexpectedly in rough seas.

“Now as you all know, my own dancing career was second only to my tenure as an educator,” he cleared his throat meaningfully, “but I have felt it only prudent that I should subvert my own desires to the more rounded capabilities of my most able assistant headmistress and school administrator, and I am quite pleased to inform you all I have already done so with the utmost dispatch…, I mean confidence.”

He looked back at Mrs. Pierce, again.

Moving to the podium, while shaking her head at Dr. Pope, Mrs. Price looked like she always did - calm and confident. As the school administrator, she was the one who took care of the actual running of the school. As usual, she looked very nice and professional, even though she was at least twenty years older than Miss Lynn was. Miss Laurie, the office manager, was there on stage as well, which was quite odd to say the least.

“Good morning boys. I'm glad that the Headmaster was kind enough to allow us to interrupt your schedule today for this brief assembly, because time is very short. We have all graciously been given almost three weeks to accomplish a task that would usually take months, which is why we've called you together to hear this very good news.”

She smiled at everyone brightly. She was older, but no one would have said she was anything but a pretty woman. She always called us boys, when it was good news. From anyone else it would not have been tolerated, but from Mrs. Pierce, it was motherly. All the guys liked her. We liked most of our teachers really. It was hard not to; they were the very best at what they did.

“As many of you no doubt know, for many years Saint Andrews had a tradition of holding a winter dance. Usually around Christmas, the dance was a formal affair where Saint Andrew's and our sister school, Saint Mary's, students would all attend. For most of its history, the schools alternated the location of the dance, one year being held here in the Crystal Hall, and the next being hosted at Saint Mary's, and so forth.”

Mrs. Pierce walked to the front of the small stage to smile more directly down at all of us. “Well, I just got notice, the chancellors have agreed to reinstitute that tradition starting this year.”

She paused, of course, to allow the student body to groan as one.

Laughing, she said. “Now. I assure you that I understand your angst at the thought of entertaining such dangerous, mysterious, and exquisitely frightening creatures as the ladies of Saint Mary's!” She was actually laughing right at us. “I truly do understand. However, as dangerous as they may or may not be, the governors and your faculty believe that we should make some attempt to teach you young gentlemen some of the social skills you will need as you move onto what I am sure will be very successful lives.”

The groans were polite, and not intended as a demonstration, but they were just less audible than fingernails on a chalkboard.

Laughing again, “I can assure you that it is much worse than you know. I was invited up to Saint Mary's this morning to help answer questions as my counterpart informed the girls of the upcoming event. I was completely struck first of all by how lovely those ladies were, and by how happy and excited they were at the prospect of having you gentlemen escort them to a ball.”

Two kids actually began to panic. A brown paper bag saved the lucky one from hyperventilation, while the other poor blighter had to make due with a sharp elbow to his midriff. Both methods were mostly effective. Mostly.

“Now I want to assure you that in all the years that this event was held, the students of Saint Andrews never let the reputation of our school down. What I mean to say is, that our students have behaved as gentlemen. Oh, and just to be sure you fully understand, behaving like a gentlemen does not include hiding in bathrooms, or under tables. Nor does it suggest standing on the sidelines like a bunch of stuffed exhibits at the Natural Geek Museum.”

She paused to look us over for a few moments, making actual eye contact with the least lucky amongst us.

“What it did, and does entail, is the requirement that each and every one of you young gentlemen escort at least one young lady to the dance floor.” She paused for several moments before speaking just slightly louder to be sure she was heard over the sobbing. “Thereby, showing the young lady thus chosen that you not only can dance with her, but also make polite and interesting conversation when pressed to it. Now the initial plan was to draw lots and pair every student, but I have argued that this is not the middle ages. I will however, act with a clear conscience and unwavering resolve in this regard if it proves necessary.”

She took another minute to single out a few more marked souls, before she stepped back to the lectern and changed from her official persona into her motherly one. That of course, marked our deaths with the finality of freshly carved tombstones, or an even fresher bill for digging the hole. You could argue all you may like with her, or your biological mother for that matter, but that was only to make you feel like you'd at least tried.

“I also want you all, my fine young gentlemen, to remember two things. courtesies and manners, as onerous as they may seem right now, serve to make the people you will meet throughout your life comfortable with you. It's a comfort to everyone when they know 'The Rules', which of course, includes all of you. The day will come when you will be glad to have learned what we are trying to teach you today. I guarantee.”

When she laughed this time, it had to be at the look of utter disbelief on our faces.

“The second of the things that I want you to remember, and the one that may even be the most important, is that the young ladies that I met today are all very excited to meet you. It would be the most wasteful shame if through your lack of attention or preparation any of you were to spoil it for them. Not only would that break their hearts needlessly, but it would prevent you from taking the opportunity to get to know them, which you yourselves will surely want to do very soon.”

She looked at us for just a few minutes more, watching our faces sober. It was true. Boys who've been locked up long enough, will risk life, and limb to meet the fairest members of the fairer sex - especially those around their own age. They'd try almost as hard as they'd try to avoid a formal.

Mrs. Pierce just nodded to herself after a moment more of scanning our faces.

“Therefore,” She continued, “beginning today, we will be holding dance lessons twice a week, for two hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays. There will be an additional practice session on Friday evenings, for those who feel they would like to attend, and Miss Lynn, Miss Laurie, and I will be happy to instruct you.”

I'm sure I heard a pin fall off a table somewhere at the back of the stage.

“Are there any questions?”

The joker stood up, and placed the backs of his hands on his hips.

“Mrs. Pierce, Three weeks is simply not enough time to design and sew a proper gown. Do the Governors understand that their lack of reasonable notice will force some of us to have to buy,” he gulped with an extraordinary flair, “…off the rack?”

Christ.

“Don't worry, Mr. Martin. We are here to help you, of course. If you'd like, I can check in my closet to see if I can lend you something suitable. Now if anyone else has a worthwhile question?”

Christ on a snowboard in July!

 
 

 
 

     Needless to say, nothing much happened for the rest of that day that did not involve some bitching or scheming of the upcoming dance in one form or another. Perhaps the only thing that had any kind of permanence was the slow resolution of the students into three distinct groups. The first were comprised of those who might actually have met a girl before, and were looking forward to the evening in question. The second group, the one which held a reasonable majority, was comprised of those who were sure that the plans would clearly result in some notably lamentable end to us, but who were willing at least to try and see the thing through. The third group had opted on escape: Tunnels, two man wooden gliders, and all manner of rare contagious diseases were discussed. The various materials were already being collected, and stockpiled into hidden stashes all over campus.

“Chris?”

Her voice startled me, not because it wasn't instantly recognizable, but rather because it was. I turned to face Miss Lynn.

“Yes, Ma'am, Miss Lynn?” I said, somehow avoiding the less dignifying amount of stammering, and 'Hums” and 'Ah's' that usually preceded any sentence I spoke to Miss Lynn.

She smiled again. “Don't look so guilty, Chris. Whatever you've been up to, we haven't been able to discover… yet.” Her smile was as warm as sunshine. “I just wanted to know how you are doing.”

“I'm fine, Miss Lynn. Thank you for asking.” I said, both grateful for her concern and attention, and reluctant to dredge up my problems, or even be a student with 'problems' to her.

“Did you get the chance to talk with your mother or father?” She asked, surprising me more than a little.

The suspicions began to coalesce in my mind. “I did. My father called me on Saturday evening, and we had a long talk.”

She nodded her head, confirming as much as possible, that she was involved somehow.

She continued, “Are you feeling at least a little better?” She asked, taking a moment only, to put her hand on my shoulder, and steer me down the hall beside her, so that we could talk.

“Yes, Ma'am.” I said, not able to keep from feeling grateful at her concern. “In fact, my father told me that he had been trying to plan a couple of days right at Christmas, so he could fly over and see me, but he had not wanted to say anything before now for fear that he might not be able to make it.”

“I see.” She nodded again, which still seemed to me like she had taken the position of an arbitrator between my parents and me. “Did he know how likely that was?”

“Not really,” I told her honestly, “but, knowing my dad, I'm sure he'll really try.” I knew that he would, and I guess she believed me.

She then asked “And what of your Mother. Can't she come too?”

I frowned, I'm sure. That had been as sad for me as my thinking they could not come at all. “No.” I said, simply.

“Why not Chris? Is she not well enough to make the trip?” She clinched it.

“No, Ma'am” I stopped and turned to look at her, causing her to stop too.

It took me a couple of seconds to phrase the question. “What did you say to them?”

Thank God she smiled again, which told me that everything was indeed Okay. “I simply told your father that although…” She stopped, seemingly searching for words, which was something she never had to do. “I am sure that he is needed where he is, he also has a great kid over here, the other third of his family, who needs him just as much as…,” She made a barely discernable pause, “he is needed there.” She finished, turning away down the hall once more I heard “A great kid” again, very softly, as if she had said it to herself.

Even though I'd gone past the stairs to my room, I continued to follow her as she'd indicated. I realized that she was glancing at me, waiting to see how I'd taken the news.

“Thank you, Miss Lynn.” I said, looking at her in a way that caused several of the other boys to look at me openly. “Thank you, very much.”

She smiled again, and patted my shoulder, “You are very welcome, Chris. It was my pleasure to do it" She looked down at the hall floor for several moments, but her smile never really faded as we walked. “Well, I have to get back, we have our first dance lesson tonight, and I need to get some stuff done before then. Your class assignment to name one thing.” I could not resist an evil snort, because like most of the kids, I had little sympathy for the need to keep up our normal huge workload, when we had been suddenly overburdened by the need for dance. Even though I was in the group that was scared and kind of liking the idea.

She laughed at me, before she said quickly “Please try to remember that both dancing and Chemistry will help you to build character.” She continued to grin.

“Gee, thanks.” I said, somehow achieving that precise level of scorn and distain required to relieve the statement of any real thanks, while only just avoiding offence.

Still laughing, “No, seriously, it's an important assignment. You'll see that in about a week, but I also wanted to ask you something. You seem to like science fiction a lot.”

I was a little shocked, since I'd never discussed this with her. Another one of those little tidbits she always seemed to know.

Taking my momentary silence as a confirmation, she continued. “I just wanted to tell you that I'm a huge fan as well. Judging by the books you've checked out, I have about two or three dozen that you should really love. When I go to my storage unit this week I'll bring some of them back, and as long as you have the time, I'll leave them in my office for you. Given how many books you check out on the weekends, you'll probably have no trouble reading them all. You read very fast.” She finished succinctly.

“You know what I've been checking out?” I asked, surprised that I'd never thought of that before.

“Of course.” She looked at me again. “Any one of your teachers can look at the books that you check out. I hope you don't mind, I wasn't trying to pry. In fact, it's the first time that I've ever done that to anyone.”

I was a little surprised, but then I was a little worried also. I'd long known that going to the Library on Fridays was what gave me the chance to look up things that some of my classmates would find strange. Others would think of it as a shark does an open vein in a warm southern ocean.

We had stopped, and she was looking at me again. “In fact, Chris, I also noticed that you seem to have other interests as well. Fashion and Style information also seem to be high on your reading list.” She finished the real intent of her comments with an admirable aplomb.

“Miss Lynn, I…,” Oh darn. I swallowed hard.

She was looking at me really carefully now.

“Look Chris, you wouldn't be the first boy in a school like this to try and sneak the sacred copy of 'Cosmo' out of the library; but, you seem to be searching for much more than that. Based on your loans, you seem to have quite an interest in all kinds of female fashions. I wanted to tell you that that's okay too. Many of the biggest designers of women's clothing are men, and I know you have a lot of artistic talent as well as every other kind. I can draw adequately, but real artistic talent has always been a mystery to me, and I only admire you all the more for it. I just wanted to let you know that you can talk to me about that as well, if you like.”

She just watched me.

“I…,” Oh, Our blessed savior on roller-skates... “Thank you, Miss Lynn.”

She nodded, and then added very quickly. “In my office, I also have a bunch of magazines that I've saved over the years. They are in the bookcase cabinet, under my reading books in my office. If you like you may use any of those that interest you, but I wanted to warn you, I don't want them circulated around the school…” She didn't need to add anything more.

Forget talking. What would I have said anyway.

This time, her smile held mostly compassion for the guilty unfortunate. “Well, I have to get going, too. Take care of yourself, Chris. Remember, that you can talk to me any time you want. It doesn't need to be about anything as important as being abandoned on the steps of Saint Andrew's orphanage every twenty-fifth of December!” She giggled a little. “I like talking to you. Okay?”

I just nodded, and she was gone. I was completely grateful for making it back to my room without seeing anyone. When I looked in the mirror, my face was still quite the lovely shade of puce.

 
 

 
 

     The first dance class went by much as expected. Everyone stood around with nothing much to do, while some of us with names in the low end of the alphabet did little other than talk, or read. I got to dance with Mrs. Pierce, lucky me, and was soon pronounced “a good dancer,' which of course earned me the red badge of target, according to my classmates’ time honored codes. That was also why I got to read most of the time there.

Thus it was, when Thursday's lesson came around, and we were all hurried into our places, and addressed.

“Settle down, Boys. We need to straighten some things out tonight, so please, everyone, take a seat…”

We did, if not quietly or quickly, at least it was with most of us using the prescribed part of our anatomy.

Mrs. Pierce continued. “Thank you. Now, as most of you no doubt realize, the first session did not go very well. I have to say, that I was not surprised at that, but I was surprised at how little most of you know about dancing.” How odd that people who have no interest in goat herding will become immediately offended by doubts as to their innate talents therein.

“It has become obvious that we need to work a little harder than we anticipated, and in much smaller groups. Therefore, from now on, the Tuesday session will be held on Mondays, and will be the same two hours. On Tuesdays from now on, we will all be together for one hour, at which times we will demonstrate various principles of etiquette and forms of dance.

The remaining three days of the week, we will break you up into nine groups. Each day, with a specific teacher.” Groans began to interrupt.

“Gentlemen! We have very little time, please listen.” There was instant quiet at the serious tone. “I did not mean that any of you would have to go more than one additional day. In fact, you will be assigned only one day in which to practice. I'm afraid that will be all that time allows, which is unfortunate, because many of you will need to practice more in order to be comfortable when the day of the dance arrives.”

She looked at all of us, not because we made a sound, but because we did not. After the actual dance lesson, the threat of the dance was like a bucket of iced-water in the veins leading directly to our hearts. Worse, we could see she was obviously cataloguing us in her mind still.

“To continue, as I've said we will have very little time, even if your female instructors work with a group every day. Therefore, I've asked Coach Madison to help us out, which he has agreed to do, but only for several specific days he is available. Most of you may be surprised to know, that your track and field coach took quite a lot of dance classes in his day, so I urge you to take full advantage of what he knows.”

Mrs. Pierce stared down the group, as if we really needed it. We were too cowed to make any perverse comments about the Coach's dancing skills. Besides we were too afraid he'd make us curry the hair on his back or something, or even worse, tell the head coach. He'd been a chicken colonel in the marines.

“Now, unfortunately, it has also become too obviously clear, that even with the changes I've indicated, that there is no way that just the three of us will be able to serve as partners for all of you…”

My eardrums popped from the combined inhalation, and holding of every student's breath.

“Yes, that's right. Several of you will have to assist us. I realize this is going to cause those students chosen for this task some grief, but let me warn everyone, quite clearly; the students thus chosen are going to be helping you not to make ass…, Err, I mean spectacles of yourselves. All of you had better treat them accordingly. I will be obligated to deal with the matter quite severely, by virtue of the fact that the boys chosen will have no choice. God help the first student who tries to make an ass of himself in advance of the appropriate time.”

One legged Jesus, on a snowboard, behind a jet ski.

Suddenly, Mrs. Pierce started to laugh at us again, and after our initial reaction of jumping to flee, everyone else did also, even though it was pure nerves. At that point, one of the crazier guys in the back made a show of 'volunteering' to be one of the 'female' assistants to the special assistants to The Administrator, de facto factotum to the office of the chance-kill-ors , who were trying to keep us from making asses of ourselves - on our own..

“Sit down. I appreciate your valorous contribution, but we need to pick people who can actually dance…”

That did it. Everyone was laughing now.

“Seriously, Gentlemen, many of you have also played the female rolls in our quarterly plays, so we will pick the students accordingly. It would not seem fair to ask for volunteers, as this would only serve to obscure their fellow student's estimation or appreciation of their talents and versatility. In any event, we have already chosen the students we intend to ask.”

Someone from the back. “Do you mean you are looking for gay students, Ma'am, because…”

Mrs. Pierce didn't even look, instead holding up her palm in his general direction to shut him up. “Mr. Jeremy, the singular aim of this meeting is to assure that those of us standing before you, namely the female complement to whom this task has fallen, will still be able to stand when this is all over. If any of you have any other agenda, I suggest you reschedule it until you can make an appointment with me to establish an extracurricular organization open to all students with similar interests. Provided of course that club can satisfy the guidelines set fourth in your honor code. I clearly said we will pick the students.”

“Oh Shit.” I heard someone say, exactly mirroring the words going through my mind at that very moment.

“That's right Mr. Thomas. You are with me.” Mrs. Pierce said flatly.

“Permission to be excused to the restroom, Ma'am?”

“Sit down.” She said as her eyes began to scan the group for the other two condemned. “Chris Morgan, Miss Lynn has picked you as her surrogate, and…, Ah yes Willis, you will work with Miss Laurie…”

I didn't hear much after that. Blood rushing in ears can do that I'm told, but I did perk up just enough to see Miss Lynn smiling at me. I could have sworn that there was something there, other than a good-natured smile of thanks and commiseration. A faintly sympathetic look from the lioness, just before she slaughters you. I felt that fainting would not be a very effective way of avoiding derision of my more feminine talents, or I'd have done it right then.

Narcolepsy, though? Several of the boys had talked about…

“Now before we get back to work, we'll have to go over the groupings we've come up with.” She handed a stack of papers to the boy closest to her, and continued. “I'm going to say this just once more. Misters Thomas, Morgan, and Willis were chosen not only for their superior abilities to woo almost any young women with their fine dancing talents…,” She paused to let that sink in, “they were also chosen because their academic standing allowed them to be freely chosen without any fear of compromising their more scholarly pursuits. You should all remember that, along with the fact that I will personally disembowel anyone giving them grief!”

“Oh, Shit!” I heard again softly, and looked back to identify Willis. Looking back at me, he quietly tossed a book he had with him over his shoulder, and said very clearly and directly to me: “Mummy!”

 
 

 
 

     Apart from a little minor teasing, and two proposals of marriage, and four requests for dates, (only one of which was serious!), I heard very little more till the next day, when Miss Lynn called me over to her desk at the end of Chemistry lecture.

“Good luck, Ginger.” One of the guys whispered in my ear, but took the sting out of it with a commiserating and encouraging pat on the shoulders as he passed me on the way back to his own desk.

Miss Lynn was smiling again. “I'm sorry, Chris. I'm really not picking on you now. Mrs. Pierce picked the three of you with the Headmaster, before I could even suggest you. You really were one of the best dancers, you poor thing.”

She smiled at my face some more. “I wanted to tell you that if you really feel uncomfortable with any of this, I've insisted that you will be allowed to back out. Contrary to what Mrs. Pierce said, even she can't force you boys to do this. Like the female parts in our theatrical productions, it's voluntary.”

Her smile was clearly pained, pleading with me not to quit on her. 'Oh shit', seemed to be echoing from the very stones of the venerable edifice around us. The Chemistry lab had long ago been moved back into the older and less inflammable Stone building - for some reason.

“You know I can't turn you down, after what you did for me.” I said, taking that first of many slow steps up the gallows stairs. “I'll help you, Miss Lynn.” Step.

She hugged me quickly at that, right in front of the class, and chuckled. It would certainly have made it worth all of the pain to come, had I lived to see it.

“Chris, you don't owe me anything. You are under no obligation to do this, but if you still will, I have to say I'll be eternally grateful. I had to soak my feet for two hours Tuesday night, and my legs still hurt.” She smiled, but also took a step back to look at me. “If you are sure, I can sure use the help.”

Resigned, with a finality that I'd just realized that I had not feared enough until now, I asked her. “What do I have to do?” Step, step, hop.

Grinning, she laid it all out. “It's simple Chris. Mrs. Pierce or I will show you the dances you need to learn, and after we demonstrate them to the group, you will serve mostly as a dance partner for the boys that need less help. It'll be a lot of work, I can tell you, and I'm so sorry for your toes ahead of time, but it will help them a lot. If…”

I finished when she paused. “If they can dance with me in front of everyone, then dancing with a real girl should be a cinch.”

She smiled all the time, but she nodded to show I'd figured it out. “I need you to meet with me this evening in the theater, that's where you and I will be holding our sessions. The others will be in the gym, or the dining room. I have a late class, and don't have time to move tables and chairs and such, so we lucked out.”

She paused before asking one last time. “Are you sure?” She bent her head slightly looking at me as if she were looking at me through a large pair of bushy eyebrows, which she did not of course have.

“I'm sunk…” I valiantly made a show of bravery for her. “I'm sorry, Ma'am. I meant to say I'm sure.”

The bell sounded.

She laughed, as she put her arm around my shoulders, and dragged me toward the door. “Okay, then, Chris. Meet me in the auditorium at about five this afternoon, and we'll set up. Okay?”

I nodded as we reached the door, and she sent me on my way with a commiserating laugh for my hang dog expression.

 
 

 
 

     Everything went well. I was taking Latin that afternoon, so most of the folks in that class had precious little time to worry about anything else, by virtue of the fact that professor Tam could be counted on to call on everyone in the class at least once during every session. I did get called 'Ginger' again by one boy, but that bought him a several of the guys saying, 'Aaw, leave her alone…”

Ginger is a popular name, it seems, but most if the guys seemed good about it. The few guys who were on the cruel side, tired of giving us grief. I suppose that in a school where they put on two to three plays a year with boys playing female leads, it's just not that much of a novelty really.

As I walked out of my last class, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Hi, Willis. What's up?” I said when I looked back to discover my fellow sufferer, who when I looked at him again, seemed more than a little worried.

“Umm. Can I talk to you a minute?” He asked me barely above a whisper, making it clear that he wanted to talk in private. One kid said something like “Look man, real life lesbians…”, which we all laughed at, but the guy standing closest to him just grinned and waived before headed the other way saying, “For crying out loud guys leave them alone to their 'girl-talk.”

When they were out of earshot, I stopped to talk to him. “What is it, Willis? You look like you need a drink, man. You need to calm down.” I was trying to cheer him up, but he only nodded without answering.

Only when the other guys made it around the corner did he begin talking in earnest. “Have you spoken with Miss Lynn yet?” I nodded my head, encouraging him to continue. “I just talked to Miss Laurie. She told me that Miss Lynn had insisted that we could back out if we really wanted to.”

Poor Willie, he looked like a drowning man, who just stumbled upon a rubber raft with a hole in it. I just nodded again to confirm that what he'd been told was true.

“Well?” he gasped. “Did you tell her No? I've got to tell Miss Laurie later this evening if I'll do it or not.”

I took a deep breath, because somehow, I knew that this would get around the school as sure as midterms and sunrise. “I'm sorry, Willie. Miss Lynn did ask me, and I told her I'd do it. No reason why you should have to go through with it though. It doesn't matter what I've said. You can back out if they say you can.” I tried to encourage him as best I could, but Willie just stared at me.

When Willie finally spoke, it was with feeling. “But why, Man? You had an out! Why would you tell them you would?” He looked at me still more, as if he could read his answer in my face. “I mean, I understand a little. If I had Miss Lynn, I'd sure as heck rather tough it out with her, but still…” He just shook his head, knowing it would be unnecessary to finish the thought..

I put my hand on his shoulder this time, and told him. “Willy man, I'm not kidding. If you want to back out, then just do it. Don't worry. You don't have to explain it to me or to anyone. Just quit, and let them find someone else.”

Willis turned away, but still told me “That's not it at all man. If you guys do it, and I'm the only one to back out, then I look like the biggest pussy on the planet for a perfectly legitimate duck and cover.”

I could see the way his shoulders slumped as he walked away, and I felt really bad for him, but he was right. We were dead the moment Mrs. Pierce pronounced our names on her little death warrant. Damn her googley eyes. Even if we did back out, we were going to get razzed for that too. I'm sure that her plan was to make sure that we helped the guys out, and make them grateful, but it had been a low sort of trick to fry us in public like that.

Turning away toward my room, I felt that I should say something to Miss Lynn at least. Not that it could do us any good, but still, it had been a shitty thing to do. I could only hope that Freddie Thomas was dealing with it a little better than Willy was. Knowing that Willy was right, though, had given me a new sense of calm. I couldn't get out of this even if I'd wanted to. I could make sure that everyone knew that I had only stuck in there because I was afraid to look like a coward, and because of Miss Lynn, of course. I'd have to do that tactfully, because I'd never want anything to get back to her to make her think that I didn't really like her, but I supposed that when the rest of them figured that out I'd be ok.

 
 

 
 

My very special thanks to Geoff for his invaluable time and advice.

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

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Chapter II

 
 
 

     The door to the auditorium made a soft thud behind me as I walked down the aisle between the seats. I was struck by the dustiness of the place. It was strange, but somehow, the theater always smelled like an old dusty warehouse, except for those few days that we actually put on a performance. At those times, it smelled fresh and well aired. It was really kind of odd… Perhaps you just didn't notice it so much with all the people there.

“There you are. Right on time.” Miss Lynn said from somewhere around the stage.

A little current ran through my middle, because until she spoke, I'd though I'd been alone. Looking up, I quickly found her, gesturing me to come through the gap in the curtains at the right of the stage where she disappeared again.

Behind the curtain, to the right of the stage, was a area set out of sight of the audience, and behind that a large communal dressing room. Toward the back were some makeup tables. Around two sides of that room were closets and three deep racks of costumes, mostly covered by white sheets. Along the back wall were a small bathroom, and three other smaller private dressing rooms. Miss, Lynn was standing at the costume racks, going through a rack of what looked like long dresses.

She said without looking back, “I wanted to thank you again for doing this for me.” “I must have soaked my feet three times the first night we had to do this.”

She had turned around, holding up what looked like a green velvet ball gown as she inspected it carefully. “This should do nicely…” She smiled as if she'd found something she had been looking for, for a much longer time. “I also wanted to thank you for coming so early. I thought it might be a good idea if we could set up the place for the lesson, and then take a few moments where you and I could warm up together.” Her eyes were now on me, which of late, made me feel like she could tell what I had in my pockets or something.

“After all,” she finished the thought, “I'm not at all sure how much experience you've had dancing a girl's part, and I though we could go over some of the finer points. You might also give me some of your ideas as well.”

She walked up to me, smiling still, which caused my eyes to constantly shift from her face to the dress, and back again in abject terror. I must have looked like an idiot during a fire drill at the Sunny Hills Home.

I jumped a little when she continued speaking. “I'll be right back, and then we can get started.” She finished, and headed for one of the smaller dressing rooms along the back wall.

I watched the door close behind her with a sense of relief. For a moment or two there, I'd thought that she had some unusual ideas as to how to teach me to dance like one the girls. I was glad she was walking away, as I'm sure that the face of relief I was making must have been pure Broadway.

After watching the door swing softly into place behind her, however, the most interesting thing in the room seemed to be that rack of dresses. I'd never been much for the theater, so had spent precious little time in this part of the theater building. I'd had no thought that these were here. I was impressed by some of the things that had been collected here over the years. Most of the dresses themselves looked like something that would have clothed the extras in a Dickens play.

Running my hand over the closest one, I was impressed by how heavy it was, and I pushed its neighbors away so that I could see it better. Somehow I'd been expecting that these costumes would all be made out of bed sheets, or something else equally cheap, but these were quite real - and quite lovely.

Just as the green gown had been, which I realized only now that the threat of being embarrassed in front of Miss Lynn had faded.

As I moved into the racks where they were pushed to the wall, I peeked under several sheets. Obviously some of them were organized by play, having things such as military uniforms and such. There wasn’t much of interest on those, which is why I noticed the pictures.

Obviously they hadn’t been dusted for some time. There were many, from plays and productions of the past, and some of them were so faded that I knew that the boys in them would be long gone. It made me want to look more carefully.

Some of the pictures had funny things, like one group of boys standing in a boat in long dresses, holding a stuffed marline. Some had them being carried on their classmate’s shoulders, or been kneeling on the tops of pyramids of other boys. Several even had pretty girls in them too, and I read the names listed below…

I looked at the picture again, and read the names. Looking back, I found that the boy’s names sounded a little funny to me, Bartholomew and Nord, but they were all boys’ names.

I don’t now how long I looked but scanning the pictures again, there were at least five of them. Some shy, but most looking confident or serene, as they had stood for their pictures.

My insides tingled as I went back to look at them again, each in their turn, confirming that each was indeed lovely in their own right.

I might have stared for hours, had I not heard a bang from something falling over in the dressing room. Suddenly I wanted to move away. It was too personal to share.

I moved back to the rack that Miss Lynn had uncovered.

The gown that caught my eye was a beautiful royal blue velvet, its material seemingly able to catch light from out of nowhere. Although it was only one color, it seemed to glow with highlights in every hue from sky to royal blue.

Beside that, there was a black dress, of a more modern design, and on the other side, a cream-colored dress that looked like a heavy satin material, with a gold piping around the bodice. They were all very beautiful, and I could not resist looking them over, at the details of the necklines and the sleeves, and of course running my hands over them to sample the softness of fabrics that were barely known to me.

I kept coming back to the midnight blue dress, however; its color and beautiful old-fashioned style drawing my eye over and over again. I'm not sure what prompted me to pick that one up. I suppose it was to see it better free of the crowded rack, and to feel its weight. Deep inside, I already knew why I held it up against my chest. It was the same reason I looked at the fashion, and makeup stuff.

Miss Lynn had been right of course. She had been right back, only I had not noticed her standing behind me, now wearing the pretty green gown. I had all but forgotten her, until I saw her green eyes fixed on me. Perhaps it was the rustle of that gown as its hem swept along the floor; or, perhaps it was an intake of breath that told me that she was there. I'm not sure which had finally caught my notice, but whichever it was, it convinced me that she had been standing behind me long enough to see me hold the dress against myself longingly as I'd rubbed my free hand down the velvet bodice.

Blushing bright red, I carefully put the dress back on the rack without looking back, even as she came up beside me.

“Pretty, aren't they?” She spoke softly, as she reached my side. From the corner of my eye, I could again see her signature smile. “I'd have chosen that one myself, except for the fact that it seemed too beautiful to get dirty or torn just to teaching a bunch of first-timer's how to dance.”

I was sure that she could see my face had turned quite red, as I tried in vain to meet her eyes. I'd never met anyone who could look through me like she could, let alone as easily as she seemed to be doing it. It was like finding oneself suddenly in a crowded room, naked, and trying to explain what you intended to do with that big bowl of jell-O.

Looking away from me, her eyes swept the gowns again, giving me the distinct impression that she was trying to change the subject to allow me to collect myself with no further embarrassment.

“They are quite lovely, actually. I suppose, that is just one of the advantages of being at a school that has had a hundred years of wealthy patrons to donate such as these.” She glanced back at me for a moment only, before she continued. “In the first college I taught in, most of what they had was so cheap they seldom survived the show itself. Nothing like they have here.”

“Wa… Why?” my speech failed me temporarily in my embarrassment, but she knew what I had meant, and ignored my sudden stammer.

“Simple really.” She explained. “Not all of the girls who attend are going to be wearing leather miniskirts. Many, god forbid, will even be in long formal gowns. I thought it might be a good idea to wear one during the class, to help the boys learn what not to step on.”

“You don't intend that I…” was all I got out before she interrupted me.

“No.” She was grinning good-naturedly, again, which was somehow making my blush that much worse. “Heavens, I'm all for doing our best to help the boys out, but I'm not about to push you quite that far.” Looking away for a moment, I imagined that I could actually hear the corners of her mouth crinkle, when her smile became just a little more mischievous, “unless of course you'd like to try one on?”

“I'm not sure if that would be such a good…” I began, but as I looked back her smile was anything but mischievous. She was watching me very closely with a kind but serious look, “…idea.”

She just watched me, giving me the feeling that she could hear what I was thinking, too. I was suddenly certain she knew the answer I longed to give.

Turning away, she moved over toward a record player that was sitting beside the wall nearest the stage. “Well, I can only say that you have excellent taste, Chris. I think that's the most beautiful dress there and that the color would be very good for your complexion.”

If she could see my complexion at that moment, I think she might have had to change her mind rather quickly, as I felt the flush of heat finally rise past my eyebrows.

“Now, what I'd like to do quickly is to try to show you some of the differences you'll need to use as you try to follow your partner's lead. If your partner is a good dancer, it can be very easy, but if like most men, he was born with two left feet…”

It was hard to pay as much attention as I should have been. I can't describe it, exactly. Dream, nightmare, or broken circus ride, all I knew was that right then the feelings moving through me blocked out even the sound of her voice most of the time with all that rushing in my ears. Not only had Miss Lynn offered to let me wear the gown, but it became obvious that she now intended to dance with me, without any further warning.

It was certainly a state of shock.

Pushing a button that caused the curtain between the stage and the dressing area to draw back, she took my hand and drew me onto the stage proper.

“It's very good that you are a little smaller than I, because it will make it much easer to show you how to follow my lead. I want you to listen to the music, and try to be relaxed. I won't hurt you, you silly thing.” She grinned a little at my resigned terror. “Besides, you may even find that it's rather nice to have someone lead you around a dance floor.”

On the brighter stage, I could see that Miss Lynn was also wearing more makeup than I'd ever seen her in. She was very pretty to start with, but the sophisticated look made me just stare at her like a little sheep with nothing in its little woolly head.

“Very good.” She smiled, as she placed her hand on my waste, and took my hand in hers. “You need to be willing to lend yourself to your partner.”

By some instinct, my other hand just naturally reached for her shoulder, more for balance than anything as she drew me closer, I'm sure. “You should just watch me, and try to feel me lead you where we are holding hands, and the cues that I give you when I press you here.” She finished her instruction by pulling me a little closer to her with her hand on my waist.

Somewhere behind me I heard the sound of the ancient phonograph record fall onto the turntable, followed by a scratching of the needle over the speakers around the stage.

I'm not sure what the waltz was, but since most sound much the same, it really did not matter. I was still looking up at Miss Lynn's pretty face as the gentle tug of her hand forced me to take a step with her. My fear left me weak and devoid of volition, as another step followed, and then another.

I'm sure that if it had been my place to lead her that I'd not have been able to move at all.

The biggest hurtle had come, though, when I had to remember to breathe, somewhere on the other side of the stage. Miss Lynn said, “Just relax, and breathe normally, or you'll soon be out of breath.” This once tried, also gave me my first good whiff of the beautiful scent she was giving off as her skin began to heat up. I can't imagine how silly I looked, as I just could not drag my eyes away from her face. I simply continued to gaze up at her as we waltzed several times around the stage.

Before I knew it, I was standing alone in the middle of the stage, and Miss Lynn had stepped back clapping her hands together several times.

“My god, Chris that was very good.” She said, her breathing a little heavier in what seemed like excitement. “Where on earth did you ever learn to do that? With a little practice, I think you could be quite marvelous,” she said coming forward putting her hand on my shoulder. “I've been told that the best dancers look only at their partner, but I've never been able to do that myself. You make it look easy. I wish I had you around when it was time for me to learn to dance. You make a much better partner than my college roommate, that's for sure!”

My brain kept asking itself what she was saying, as I struggled to understand what it was that she was trying to tell me, while most of my brain tried to make me breathe. Before I knew it, she was back in front of me once more. “Let’s see how you like this next one.”

She began to tell me all sorts of little things about how a girl needed occasionally to take longer steps to avoid getting her skirt stepped on; or, that higher heels often made a girl's steps more graceful, simply because of the need to keep her feet under her body. She did that more and more, until after the third waltz, when she paused for a moment to smile down at me.

“Chris, I can't tell you how impressed I am. If you'd just remember how to breathe, you'd probably be a much better dancer than I am.” She panted good-naturedly, a little out of breath, “with a little practice of course,” she giggled.

Then she paused for just a moment to press a button on the old phonograph before she continued. “The last waltz on this side is the one I'm sure you know. It's Roger's and Hammerstein's waltz from Cinderella.”

I could not help but blush again. I checked out that DVD, at least one weekend a month. I hid it under my shirt to get it to my room, and only listened through headphones. It was most prominent on the list of my loans, surely.

“…Not that you need the practice really, but I'd appreciate it if you'd do one more dance with me. I've always loved this one, ever since I was a little girl. Shall we?” She asked finally.

I nodded dumbly as she once again drew me toward her in step with the music.

 
 

 
 

     “OK gentlemen, please come in, and line up along the back of the stage.” She said loudly, some time later.

“Would you look at that!” someone amongst them said loudly from the darker audience seating, which was only the loudest exclamation that the boys made as they all took note of how Miss Lynn was dressed. Most just nudged or tapped a buddy, out of sight behind the lights.

Miss Lynn was unfazed, and was in fact a lot more business like than she usually was in a classroom, and certainly much more so than she was outside of one. “Line up quickly, men, we have very little time.”

There was some shuffling of feet, as the other students, most of them I noted in classes two or three years ahead of me, got into position. Mrs. Pierce obviously gave Miss Lynn the more mature students where she could. Few, if any noticed me, which was a good thing, as I was still a little flushed and unsteady on my feet from my own 'lessons.'

Most of the brief instructions I had received fled from my memory, as I tried to decide wither or not the fact that I barely knew these boys would make my job easier, or harder.

“For those of you who don't know, this is Chris.” She indicated me without looking in my direction, which all of the other students there did do. “You are very lucky, because it turns out that Chris here is a superb dancer.”

Superb!, Shit. …Behind a jet ski, blindfolded with dog-bone in his teeth… Oh forget it. Christ!..

“Yeah. Of course he is. Look at him.” A boy who was positively skulking near the back in fear, said loudly, causing only about a third of those present to laugh a little.

“You.” Miss Lynn pointed right at his nose from across the stage. “Front and center. Causing the boy to shuffle out to meet her, where I could see that he was the boy who had jokingly volunteered in the general assembly. Now that his fate was upon him, he looked distinctly less enthusiastic. A quick scan of his classmates showed me that most of them had little regard for what he thought was humorous.

“Now.” Miss Lynn said to the group rather more loudly than usual, as she nodded to me to push the lever on the turntable with a small twinkle in her eye. “I rather think that this will be an example of how not to make yourselves look like asses.”

Everyone was still laughing at the blushing boy, when after the music had begun, she had to ask him loudly, “Well?” To his credit, he did try at that point, but it was obvious that he'd never danced with a human girl before. Even I felt bad for him, when he tripped Miss Lynn. Not half of the first waltz was over, before she let him skulk back to the seats in the first row, to sit and recover all but his dignity. That was gone forever.

With a slight gesture toward me, Miss Lynn indicated that I should stop the music.

“Now, Gentlemen,” She began again, but this time in her normal kind voice, “I trust that will not be necessary again. You see this is not as easy as it looks, but you can all learn. Unlike some of the more modern dances we all do, all you have to do is to know the steps of a waltz, and anyone, no matter how many left feet they were born with, can do it -- adequately.”

She took a deep breath and shook her head.

“However, you can't just expect to walk out onto the dance floor in front of all of those girls, and be able to do it because you saw it in a movie.”

She looked at them then, catching each one of them by the eye. Every face was serious. “Good. In addition, if any of you feel the need to say something stupid like that again, try to remember my physical education credits were all in judo. So help me.” She said it simply, without stresses, and then turned to the boy who had embarrassed himself so badly. “Are you, Okay?”

“Yeah.” He answered her while trying not to sound sulky, but failed at that as well.

“Well, just remember this, Mr. Bradford, I promise that I will teach you how to dance with me, in an acceptable fashion before we are done.” She looked back at the group, and then took everyone by surprise. “Chris, would you start the music, and come over here please?”

My knees were shaking with fear, as I dropped the needle on the edge of the record, and quickly walked over to Miss Lynn.

“Now, I'm going to lead here, just to let you guys see what you are missing, but I promise that if you pay attention, you will all not only find that you can do this too, but that you'll enjoy it.”

Well that was all she was able to say, when I once more felt the tug of her hand on my waist. Somehow, I did manage to see a few of their faces over her shoulder, but as usual I found that I was watching her face almost all of the time. When the music ended, the guys were just staring, about half of them open-mouthed.

“Thank you, Chris.” She said, and then continued too softly for the others to hear. “That was lovely. When the class is over, you'll have to tell me how you do that.” She turned to scan the faces. “You. Mr. Lee. You're up.”

Jacob Lee was perhaps the most athletic of the seniors present, but we all looked up to him more now for the confident way he strode out to Miss Lynn.

“Chris, if you please…”

The first class went very quickly, after that. Miss Lynn got every one of the group to dance with her first, and then began to lecture them on ways to dance properly and well. All I did was to turn the music on and off. Later, I was told that in some of the other classes, several of the guys had declined to dance with the other teachers. I guess it was better to do this with someone very pretty and closer to your own age.

After we were through, and the boys filed out, she turned to me. “Thank you, Chris. Tomorrow I'm going to run into town, to look for a new skirt, and to pick up a couple of CD's. By Friday, you should be off phonograph duty. Sorry.” She patted my upper arm gently.

I started to pack up the records we had used, when I realized she was still watching me.

“Now for the question I've been dying to ask. Where on earth did you learn to dance like that? It's so lovely.”

I just shrugged a little, looking a little silly and immature I suppose. “It's simple, really. It's one of the things that I used to do with my mom.” I could see her eyes filling with compassion when I got the courage to look into them.

“When I was a kid, both my parents used to play with me a lot whenever they were around.” She made a face at that, and for a moment I thought I saw her lips move to tell me I was still a 'kid', but she said nothing. “My Mother used to love this kind of dancing, and from the time I was very small, she used to love to play the music, and dance with me. I enjoyed it. She's very pretty too.”

There seemed little to say after that. It was a painful memory just then, which it had never really been before now. "I miss them terribly. I really do.” I finished sadly.

“I'm sorry, Chris. I didn't realize it would hurt you, and I should have guessed.”

I shrugged.

“Well, you should know that your mother did you a very big favor. You dance wonderfully, and when the dance comes, you'll have your pick of all the girls to dance with … including me.” She grinned.

“Yeah,” I answered, feigning chagrin, “but what good will it do me when all I'll know how to do is to follow?” I was gratified when she laughed at the joke.

“Don't worry Chris. This is the twenty-first century. Lots of girls like to lead…” We both cast off my sadness of only moments before.

“Did you really take Judo?” I asked.

“No. I actually taught Judo for the extra money, for a while, but now I just keep a golf club in my car at all times.” She giggled like a girl talking with her friends.

 
 

 
 

     The next day was conspicuous only in that I did not get teased at all. I was called 'Ginger' or 'Chrissy' a couple of times, but it was more like being referred to as one of 'the Gingers'. Once, I realized that one of the guys was actually asking my advice. It was weird but nice of him, since he seemed very nice and very grateful for my help. There was little I could do except to tell him to practice as much as he could, and then head for my civics lecture.

Friday was an easy day for me - usually. I'd somehow managed to come up with only two classes on that day, both in the morning, which was probably the only way I'd ever impressed any of my classmates till now. I hung around for a little while, before I somehow found myself drifting toward the theater by mid afternoon.

The theater had that unused smell again, even though I knew that the janitorial staff had just recently cleaned up the stage area. Even after finding the one light switch that seemed to control actual lights, the place still had a distinctly deserted feel to it.

Without any conscious decision, I set about clearing the stage area of the few props that had been left there, and quickly moved the small table for the player over to its former place.

That had taken all of three minutes, leaving me to look around for anything else that needed to be done. Given that I had almost a half hour before Miss Lynn wanted me to be here, there was little else to do, besides paint the walls. I had actually intended to set up, and then head to my room. However, with more time and curiosity than common sense, I began to poke about.

Several storage closets that lined the far wall looked mildly interesting, so I opened the first one, to find it was full of small props. It had several pairs of lamps, a couple of old style telephones, and a few potted plants made of silk, and, god forbid, a pair of fake plastic ruby slippers.

“Dorothy,” I murmured, realizing I might have gotten off easy.

The next closet had a couple of boxes piled in front of it, which looked like they hadn't been moved for a couple of years until I slid them aside. It was full of ballet costumes. The tutus, about a dozen of them, looked as if they’d come out of a school for dancing gorillas, complete with pink leotards and net skirts that stuck straight out. The shelves above held ballet slippers for elephants.

Closing the door, I could not help but laugh to myself. No matter how bad the guys thought they had it now, apparently some of the poor souls who had come before, had had it much worse. School administrators, as all students knew, were a sick and twisted bunch.

“What's so funny Chris?” Miss Lynn said unexpectedly behind me, startling me out of my wits, which I suppose was okay, that being my normal state around her lately.

I turned just in time to see her set a new CD player on the small table that I'd placed for that purpose, and watch her walk over to flip a couple of switches I'd not seen behind a cabinet along the front wall.

Walking toward me, I couldn't really think of a better way to explain what was so funny, so I just threw the door to closet number two fully open.

“Oh, my word!” Miss Lynn said, as she came closer. Shaking her head, she started to laugh too, as she told me, “You guys thought that you had it bad.”

“That's why I was laughing.” I told her closing the door. “If you have any trouble with any of the guys tonight, I guess you could show them these, and tell them that the next dance they attend will be an exhibition.”

She giggled a little more, but quickly began to move over to place several items on a small worktable near us. “I don't think that would work out, and besides, I'm pretty sure it's illegal, and even if it's not, it should be. Don't worry. After yesterday, I don't think that anyone is going to be giving either of us a bad time.” She started to sort out a few things on the table, before asking “You're a little early, Chris. Hiding out?”

“No, Ma'am.” I shrugged, while pulling open the next closet, that contained what looked like wigs, and possibly a couple of road kills near the bottom. “I just have a light schedule on Fridays, because I have a long day on Monday. The Math Tutor comes in for a late class on Monday, so I get Friday afternoons off.”

“Oh,” she said not paying much attention, really, as she glanced around the door to look into the third closet. “Ewww!” She said softly. “What do you think that is? A squirrel?”

This time, she made me laugh, as I answered amazed at the way she mirrored my own thoughts.. “I was ready to vote for raccoon, myself, but I'm pretty sure that it's long past the time that it makes any difference for that poor creature, whatever it was.”

I suppose she had finally put me at my ease, because when she laughed, it relaxed me almost completely.

“You are very funny too, Chris. The girls who get to dance with you will be the lucky ones.” She said finally, beaming at me without further explanation. “Here.” She said, shoving several CD's and a small Radio-shack bag into my hands. “I'm going to change real quick, why don't you see if you can hook the CD into the sound system. I think I bought the right adaptor, but the stuff over there is so old, and the guy at the store was about twelve at best.” She raised her eyebrows to mock my surprise, and headed off to the small dressing room at the back.

I found the proper adaptor for the old system. It was in a small kit that she had purchased, leaving a couple of other adaptors she'd bought in individual packaging as useless. I yelled to her, that I'd been successful.

“Great.” Came her muffled reply. “Just throw the other stuff into the bag with the receipt, so I can get some of my money back.”

I'd not even finished that, before she came swishing back out to lean over a makeup mirror that she lighted, and began putting on some makeup. “Be good, and throw one of the CD's in to try it out, will you?”

I popped it in, and then without realizing what I was doing, I found myself drifting over to stare at her progress. I'd seen plenty of makeup on girls, but I'd never seen anyone except my mother putting it on before. I guess it showed.

Suddenly, her eyes cut over in my direction, and she smiled at me again. “No big sister's at home, aye Chris.”

I shook myself physically.

“I'm…, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…” I began to apologize, suddenly feeling as if I'd been caught peering up her dress or something.

“It's Okay Chris.” She said, and then continued to finish off her eyes. “I've never met anyone, male or female that wasn't fascinated to watch someone putting on her makeup. It's perfectly normal, and it's perfectly Okay. I don't mind, even though some girls would rather you watch them putting on underwear.” She paused. “Sorry, that came out wrong, but you know what I mean.”

She finished herself off quickly, but I couldn't have told anyone exactly what it was that she had done. She was blazingly fast with a makeup sponge. Must have been the judo, I thought to myself.

“Well, how do I look?” She smiled.

“You look, beautiful.” I said before I had been able to think. “I… I mean…”

“What? I don't look beautiful?” All I could do was blush, which made her laugh at me again.

“Well thank you, very much.” She said, deliberately taking it the wrong way, to torture me.

Time to surrender, and tell them all I knew. “You do look very beautiful, Miss Lynn.” I said, without any other recourse. “You know that I think you are just about the prettiest woman I've ever seen.”

That stopped her, teasing me. “Why thank you, Chris.” She even blushed a little herself, this time. “I think that's the nicest compliment I've gotten in quite a while.”

“You're welcome, Miss Lynn.” I said, glad finally to be able to talk around her. “Which leads to the question as to why you're doing it. Why do you wear the makeup at all?”

“Well, it's simple, really. I like makeup, but if I wear it too much, I tend to break out. I also wanted to get the guys used to the idea that the woman at the ball are going to be fully made up in their finest. Mrs. Pierce suggested that it might be a good idea for them to realize that, and to get used to the idea. It's like a warning sign for girls, Chris. When they take the time to look pretty for a boy, he has to realize she needs to be treated more like a lady than one of his chums.” She paused, before smiling in admission, “And, since it gave me the chance to wear a nice dress, I thought it would feel nice too.”

“That makes sense, I guess.” I said mulling it over. “Not the part about getting the guys used to girls dressed up, the part about feeling nice…”

Most people think old sneakers smell bad, and they probably don't spend anywhere near as much time with them in their mouths as I seem to lately.

Miss Lynn just patted my shoulder, and went to inspect the CD, which was playing some song softly over the sound system.

“Very good, Chris. Now lets see if…” She began to look through several CDs on the table. “They didn't have a very good selection, but I found one good one. here it is!” She quickly changed the disk, and came toward me. “Wait till you hear this. I have not heard it in years, and it's very nice.”

Softly, the waltz began to play, and she was right. It was very pretty. Without further preamble, she stepped to me, and slipped her hand onto my waist to lead me onto the stage…

 
 

 
 

     “I'm certain that you can all hear me just fine. Everyone line up in order of height. The tallest of you should be on my extreme right, and the smallest of you right over here.” Miss Lynn directed with her left hand, as the guys shuffled about trying to sort themselves by height.

In the end, it took only a few moments, and Miss Lynn changed several of the boys around a little, to get it right.

“Very good. Thank you.” She finally said, as she surveyed the group with some sense of satisfaction.

One of the guys looked over to where I was still trying to catch my breath from Miss Lynn dancing me around the stage for a quarter of an hour. All I could do was to shake my head. I had no earthly idea what she was up to.

“Now, you are paired off.” She said simply, as starting from the smallest, she separated the boys into pairs. “As may have become obvious to all of you, there is no way that even Chris and I together can give you the kind of practice time that you all need.” No one even groaned, it was so obvious to all of them. “So, look at the boy you are paired with, because they will be the person you will have to practice with while we are working with other students. Chris and I will be taking turns with you, but you will need to try to work together. So, just like I showed you all last time. The taller boy will lead.”

The groans now interrupted her long enough to take notice of the opposite side of the stage where four boys had switched partners, obviously to avoid someone they did not get along with. “That's fine, just as long as you stay that way…, and as for you two, I don't care who leads now. We will all be taking turns.”

Then Miss Lynn directed me to set the selection she intended to play, and taking my hand directed me toward one of the taller boys, who I knew as Tom something or other.

Somehow, the fact that he was more embarrassed than I helped a little. “It's OK, Tom. I don't expect you to bring me flowers or anything.”
We both laughed, me because I had no idea where it came from. “Here. You put your hand on my waist, and hold my hand out like this…”

It got a lot easier. Several of the boys, I realized, were not bad dancers. Not quite as good as Miss Lynn, but at least they were more used to leading. The boy, Tom Anders, a senior was at least as good as I was, because he had had some lessons at some time or other.

Knowing that I was a little shy, Tom began talking to me as we danced around the stage with the half of the 'couples' who could fit at any one time.

“No! Please, Gentlemen.” Miss Lynn said with some exasperation in her voice, as she pulled a remote from somewhere to kill the Music.

“Listen up, boys.” She said shaking her head. “I have to confess that this is not the problem that I expected to have. Many of you are dancing too closely to each other. This is a waltz, not Greco Roman wrestling. When there are other modern slow dances, what you are doing is fine, but in a waltz it is important for you to keep your proper distance. If you don't, you'll wind up pulling your dates dress off…”

That got their attention, as grins broke out everywhere.

“… And for God's sake, Mr. Bradley, if you are going to let your date keep his hand on your rear the whole time, you'd better wear something ultra conservative and high cut, or it's going to look really trashy!"

“Now…”

With a heavy sigh, Miss Lynn took the bridge of her nose in her fingers to meditate. “Perhaps you are all right about this. Perhaps I should just go back to my apartment, and use the extra time for making up more tests for every class…”

That got their attention too.

“Ah!” She said looking back up. “So you were listening after all. Very well, lets try this again once more,” and she pressed the remote for another waltz.

Stepping forward, she seemed to be trying to fix the torn front hem of her dress as she said to another boy, “Now John, don't be so nervous. Just follow me for this dance, and I'll show you that you don't need to pick up your feet so much to move. It's a waltz, not a square dance.”

“Yee - Ha!” Tom whispered softly, causing me to giggle out loud in spite of myself. “If she doesn't think this is a square-dance, just wait till she gets to dance with my cellmate, Richard Collins.” He chuckled to himself, causing me to raise an eyebrow in query.

“He's been practicing in our room at night, trying to get the steps down, and just in case you’re curious - no he wasn't born with two left feet.” He smiled down at me. “He has about six.”

It was something in his face that caused me to laugh so hard that I almost tripped myself.

“I'm serious.” Tom said. “He broke a chair, and my other roommate had to move out for fear of personal injury. Poor bastard should take that week off if he knows what’s good for him, or at least buy more insurance.”

Amused by his animated descriptions, I was still laughing when the music stopped. “So tell me, Tom.” I asked him trying to keep a straight face. “How long have you guys been dancing in your rooms?”

“Since our first year.” He tried to look dead serious “It helps us unwind from so much studying.”

“Oh.” Was all I could say, before I broke out into giggles, shaking my head.

“Chris?”

“Yes, Tom?” I asked him as the music went to the next track.

“Would you be my date for the prom?” That was it, we both fell apart.

“Well, Chris, what did I tell you?” Miss Lynn said from right behind us. “If you can dance well, you are sure to get a date for every dance.” She looked behind us and told everyone it was time to go and get ready for dinner, “So, that's it for tonight gentlemen. Good job. I'm seeing a lot of progress, and I'll be too tired to make up any new tests.”

The guys cheered, everyone was joking and laughing, happy that it was over.

“Good night then, Gentlemen, and I'll see you all on Monday afternoon.” She finished to the backs of the boys who were already racing for any exit.

I had already begun to move the table over toward the wall. Two blinks, and we were alone.

“I'm glad to see you were having a nice time, Chris.” She said, quietly, as I put back the props I'd moved earlier. “It's a nice change to see you smiling so much.”

I did not know how to respond other than to say 'thank you', to her.

“I think that Tom is a nice boy.” I could see that she was watching me again. “I was wondering what it was that you were talking about, that seemed so funny.”

Turning to look at her, I could see that she had already put all of her things on the table, and had as per her usual, stopped to watch me.

“It was nothing really. He was just telling me about one of his roommates, and about how he's been trying to teach himself how to dance.” I then proceeded to recount much of what he'd told me.

Miss Lynn said very little, and just listened, with that slight smile on her face. Then suddenly she said, “Come here for a moment.”

Something about her manner gave me pause. It was like when she found out about my parents all over again. I know we had been laughing quite a bit, but I was sure that she wasn't mad about that. Still, there was something in the way she watched us. I walked over to her slowly, only to have her put a hand on my shoulder and steer me over to the rack of gowns.

She looked down at the tear on the front of her skirt.

“Can you fix it?” I asked.

“Not me. I'm much more of a duct-tape kind of girl, but our school administrator can fix anything. It' not as bad as it looks. Mind you, most girls learn in their first year in college, to take any dress that's three sizes too big stay on for at least one evening. Safety pin here, hairspray there.., Duct-tape, everywhere…”

She smiled up at me as I giggled again. I was ashamed to act so girly but she was very funny and always nice to me.

“Help me with the cover on this one, Chris.” She pushed me to the opposite side of the rack, and took up the opposite end of the cover herself. It slipped over the gowns, and onto the floor easily with two.

“Are you looking for another gown to wear?” I asked, realizing the one she had worn tonight was one that she'd brought with her.

“Not really.” She said looking at me out of the corner of her eyes for a moment, as she pulled the blue velvet gown out. “I think we should save this one,” she said to herself softly “and then picked out the Green gown that she had first chosen for herself that first night. Holding it up to herself, she looked at me questioningly for a moment or two.

“Chris, I'd like you to do something for me.” She said quietly. “Come here please.”

“Anything, Miss Lynn.” I said no more loudly. “I owe you, big time, for keeping some of those guys off me.”

“I've told you at least twice, that you don't owe me anything, Chris.” She shook her head as if I'd said something particularly stupid. “In fact, I think I'd really like to do something for you.”

“What is it, Miss Lynn?” I asked her, finding it suddenly harder to breathe than it should have been.

She just shook her head a little, and then turned the gown around and held it up to my front, causing me to freeze.

“I'd like you to try this on for me.” She said, watching my face very closely.

I must have been doing a pretty good fish impression.

“It's just as good a color as the blue one, and I think it will be an even better fit for you.” She said softly. “Please, take it.”

Instinct alone caused me to wrap an arm around the gown, allowing her to lay it down over my forearm. She was already moving toward one of the closets that I'd not opened, before I could speak.

“Why, Miss Lynn?”

She stopped to look back at me for a moment, and it gave me the distinct impression that she was a little sad.

“Are you thinking of making me wear a dress to the dance class?” I asked, in a husky voice.

I could see that the closet she'd opened contained shoes.

“Well…, I guess so. Or a skirt really.” She looked at my feet, and began rummaging through the shoes. “Would you please do this for me?” She added. “You can say no if you like. I'd never do anything to upset or frighten you, but it would help me a lot.”

My eyes had fallen to the gown on my arm, which meant that when I looked up, I could see her eyes locked on mine.

Looking at her, I felt my head nod slowly, and my feet began to take me toward the dressing room she had used.

“Thank you, Chris” She took a step or two toward the same door. I did not look at her at all, because the light in the dressing room door was beginning to look like the end of a long dark tunnel. “I promise that this will only take a moment, and if it makes us late for dinner, I'll take you with me to grab something off campus.”

I was closing the door, when she handed me another item, that seemed to come not from the rack, but from the bags she had brought with her. It was in a new plastic wrapper.

“Here, put this on first. Leave your shorts on, if you like, but take off your t-shirt if you are wearing one.”

When I closed the door, I could see that the bag contained a long slip. I also found a package of panties there as well. I know that I spent several minutes just looking at them, but I could not move for the longest time.

“I can help you, if you need me to, Chris.” I heard from just the other side of the door. “There are curtains for privacy.”

That caused me to move, finally.

“No. That's all right.” I said, somehow afraid that someone else would hear me admitting what I was about to do.

“What did you say, Chris? Do you need help?” She asked me again.

I answered more than a little panicked. “No. I think I can manage.” I said as loudly as I dared. “I'm just a little nervous.”

Now why did I tell her that? Because I'm very nervous! I felt like my knees were going to buckle.

I turned the package with the slip over, and carefully peeled the back, freeing the garment. It easily shook out, falling almost to the floor. It was extremely soft, and silky, although I did not think that it was made of silk. It was all white, but had a texture to the upper bodice, that was different from that of the skirt, which was smoother and more shiny.

Hanging the slip on the door, I kicked off my shoes, and began to unbutton my shirt.

My eye caught the package of panties, thinking that it was very weird thing to give me, but it was the perfect chance. I dropped my shirt on the floor, and picked up the package, and found that it needed to be torn open, which I did. The panties were in three colors, blue, pink, and white. All were very silky too, with a lace pattern around the leg and waist.

Miss Lynn had not said one way or the other, but by telling me that I could keep on my shorts, it was obvious that I need not wear them. I realized, suddenly, that I'd torn them open without really thinking. She couldn't either use or return them now. Why had I done that?

It shocked me to hear my own voice answer the question. “Because you are dying to try them on too,” I whispered to the fool in the mirror.

From the other side of the door, I heard. “Is everything all right?” Then a little more softly “Are you freaking out on me in there?”

“Yes.” I said too softly for her to hear, probably, as I dropped my pants and stepped out of them. “I'm just fine.”

“Well don't worry, Chris. It's just you and me and everyone else is gone. No one comes in here ‘till Monday.” She was right on the other side of the door again. “Besides, if anyone asks anything, we have a perfectly legitimate excuse. You must have heard, Mrs. Pierce has had Mr. Thomas in a skirt since Wednesday.”

“Really?” I asked, surprise raising the level of my voice to clearly audible finally. “I can't believe that I've not heard that.” I was shocked. News like that is the only thing in the known physical universe that travels faster than light.

“Not surprising, because she's been having him practice outside of the class with her. She hasn't made him wear it to a class yet. Only the teacher's know.” I could hear her smile again.

“Great.” I said, loading the word with sarcasm.

Miss Lynn just chuckled. “Are you sure you haven't fallen in, in there?”

I'd finally begun to move a little faster, as I reached for the white panties, and stepped into them. “I've got it now. Just a moment.”

The sensation was incredible. It was not just that the panties were soft and silky. It was more. The sight of them in the mirror seemed to bring a sense of calm over me. I paused for only a moment, to look at them front, back, and every angle, before I tucked myself under a little more tightly. I loved the way they looked in the back, which was very much like the picture on the package.

More quickly, I lifted the slip, and knowingly dropped it down over myself. It was weird, having it fall so far, and that caused me to get an arm through the neck hole for a moment or two. Once I'd straightened it out, I found that it was much like the panties, only more so. I could feel it slide over the silky texture of the underwear, which felt kind of nice. I paused to look at myself, and found that I was running my hands all over the garment, feeling the texture, and inspecting the differences in how I looked.

I wanted more, so I turned to pick up the gown with even less hesitation, and tried to do the same with it, but it got hung up on the back of the slip.

“Miss, Lynn?” I called as loudly as I dared.

“Yes, Chris.” Again the voice was just outside of the door.

I was about to say 'help', when I felt the door open behind me.

“Oh, my,” she said softly. “Here let me help you.” She began pulling the skirt of the dress down around me, quickly causing it to fall almost all of the way down, in a manner that I'd not been able to accomplish.

“With the gown, it's easier to step into them usually.” She tugged again.

“Ah!” She said behind me. “There are loops inside of the gown to help hang it. You got one caught on the buttons on the back of your slip. Hold still, dear.”

Something in the way she spoke made my knees shake.

I felt her hand pressing my back for a moment, as she reached down the back of the gown. “It's okay, Chris. Calm down. You are in no danger.” She said, sounding like a paramedic lending aid to an injured person while watching me blush in the mirror..

“I'm all right.” I managed.

“No you're not.” She said, finally slipping the two garments apart, allowing the dress to fall completely to my feet.

“Now listen for a moment.” She said while rubbing my back and shoulders absently. “It really is okay. This is just another type of clothing, that's all. They are much softer, and much prettier than boy's clothes, but they are only clothes just the same. They don't leave any permanent marks. I understand if you feel nervous, but that's just a feeling. You are perfectly all right, and I won't let anything happen to you. Right?”

I was somehow able to nod my head again. I really did believe her, even though it could have been a distinct lack of oxygen reaching my brain. Next year, I was going to go out for the underwater swim team.

“Do you need a minute?” she asked, leaning to one side, looking at me now from all angles.

“No.” I managed a one-word answer, sure that I could not have managed two.

“Do you want to keep going.” She asked gently, her hands on my shoulders now to steady me, even as I struggled to make my lungs work as nearly normally as possible.

I knew that her simple question was a turning point. If I said 'no', then I'd change, and it would be over. I'd at least have the illusion of… Yes, that's what I'd have - an illusion. Somehow I felt my head nod.

“Do you want me to help you getting dressed?” She asked, in a very soft and very friendly voice that left no doubt as to what she meant by dressed.

My heart answered for me, somehow fearing that if it left the decision to my brain, I'd end up saying something really stupid. “More than anything, please.” I said, as I once more nodded my head.

It took the last of the reserve oxygen in my body to say it, but it embodied all of the feelings that I'd felt pent up inside of me. Once out, it made room for the air to rush back in finally.

“Good.” Her voice said, as she steered me toward the mirror. “Usually, Chris, you'd put all of your things on, including your shoes, but for now, I just wanted you to be able to try this on for me.”

I caught sight of the dress in the mirror. It was beautiful, even blurry from the moisture that was affecting my vision.

Miss Lynn began to fasten the back. “In order for you to wear the blue gown properly, I think it will need a corset. Mr. Darcy told me that he has some of those around here, but that he's never required them. We can see if we can find one, if you like, but for now I thought this dress would be easier for you to manage as it's a looser style with a fuller waist… Just to see how you like it.”

I knew that she was trying to make me feel better, by chatting to me like she was, while I felt her hands quickly fastening the long row of buttons on the back of the dress. I'd need her to get out of this thing, I realized, but I could only watch myself in the dress, as the image in he mirror became familiar to me. As she closed the back, it took shape around me, like a long slow hug. It not only looked beautiful, but it felt wonderful too, which was something that I'd never expected. My hands began to roam over the dress, even as my eyes watched every part of it in the mirror.

“Pretty?” Miss Lynn asked me.

“Oh, Miss Lynn...” I saw the person in the mirror commit before even I thought to stop him. “It's beautiful.”

She giggled then and said. “I think that you can call me Amy just this once, Chris.” She giggled more . “When we are alone of course. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Okay. Now come here.” She took me to a seat along the side of the wall, and began to fluff up my hair, taking a green ribbon from a table, and looping it under the back. “Fortunately your hair is long enough to be a short hair style for a girl. I'll do a little with it now, but If you ever get the chance, you have a very cute face that would look nice with some of the shorter haircuts for girls.” She said cheerily.

I could not see a mirror, but could feel her pulling the hair in front into bangs. Then, she picked up some scissors, and quickly made little snips in the front. To think, I'd been just about to get the haircut that my other teachers were saying was long overdue.

Long hair met the dress code, but teachers were always on you to keep it neat.

I'd closed my eyes, partially to keep any hair out of them, and partially because I felt like swooning, when I felt her pull a cloth around my shoulders, and start to pat something wet on my face.

“This will only take a moment, and I promise it will be worth the time.” I wanted to open my eyes, but I did not until she told me to. I could feel as she put makeup around my eyes, having me open them, looking up and down when she told me to. I sat still as she brought a brush close to my lashes, and brushed them, let them dry, and brushed them again after drawing around my eyelids. Then she had me close them, as she brushed my eyelids repeatedly, from the crease to my brows. Finally she brushed my cheeks again softly, and told me to open my eyes.

“Now make your mouth relaxed, dear.” She said, her eyes watching my mouth. “Good, now just relax, and don't make kissy faces.”

I could smell the lipstick over the other makeup, even before I could feel it on my lips. It was like the slip and panties - very soft and silky. I sighed out loud as she slid it over and over my lips, causing her to giggle at me.

“I had a girlfriend once, who had this weird lipstick fetish.” She confided, as she slid another coat onto my lips. “She used to ask me to do this to her too.”

I could not believe that she was confiding this to me, which she must have read on my face, causing her to smile.

“Oh grow up!” She said over a giggle. “How else do you think they'd let me into this school at my age?”

I was stunned.

“It was only that my aunt could tell them that she was certain that I was no danger to you little monsters, if you don't' count the three wood in my car. I mean, I'm not completely sure of the conversation, but I'm pretty darned sure of the impression she must have given them.” She finished, standing back to inspect her handiwork.

“I mean, no danger. What I can tell you is, that that boy Tom is very nice, but before you make any big decisions, you should really try kissing another girl wearing lipstick. The feeling is indescribable.”

I opened my eyes, I'm sure quite widely at that.

“Wow.” She was shaking her head. “Well I was wrong about one thing, Chris. You don't have a cute face. With a little makeup, you are damned pretty. I think you may just be the only student in this school who may actually be in danger from some of my friends.” She smiled, to tell me that she wasn't really serious.

“No kidding though, Chris, You need to look at this.”

She took me by the hands, and pulled me up facing her.

“Now I want you to stay calm. No fainting or anything. If you feel the need to sit, just tell me. okay?”

“Is it that bad?” I asked, suddenly very frightened.

“It's that good, Chris. You are beautiful. More than enough to give the ladies at the ball a run for their money. Look.”

At first it made no sense. Then it dawned on me that the pretty girl in the mirror was me. I was... Just like the dreams. All I could do was stare as I took a step foreword. I watched the eyes growing larger as my breathing was beginning to strain. I realized too, that Miss Lynn had never taken her hands off my arms, as she stood behind me watching.

“I'm okay. I won't faint.” I managed to lie. “Is that really me?”

“It sure is. Amazing, is all I can say.” Her eyes were fixed just as mine were, as I began to turn my head a little to see how she'd fixed my hair. It was gathered around the back, with bangs in the front, and a ribbon tied in a pretty bow at the top of my head. She was watching very closely, as she spoke, “And just for the record, Chris, the last thing that my brother said before he fainted, was that he wouldn't faint. Do you want to sit?”

I nodded my head, and she helped me over to the chair. My knees gave no resistance.

She left the room for a moment, only to come back with one of those paper cups full of water, which she held up to my lips.

“Careful of the dress.” She said as I sipped a little. “Almost anything stains silk.”

“Well, what do you think?” She asked me after a moment.

Once more, it was my heart that answered. “It's better than I ever dreamed. Do you really think I'm... that it looks good?” I asked, my stupid eyes watering a lot now.

“Oh, my god, yes.” She said, taking my hands. “I'm not kidding. You are adorable. I mean I thought you'd look nice, but even I didn't think you look like this. It's really very good.” She promised me sincerely.

She asked me a question then, which seemed so natural. “Tell me, Chris, isn't this what you've wanted, looking at those catalogues and fashion books and magazines?”

I looked at her, still afraid, even after all she'd done. I also knew that this was something that I could never hide from her, too. I closed my eyes, and nodded, even as I felt tears finally slid onto my cheeks. “As long as I can remember.”

For a time after than, we just sat there, me with an occasional tear slipping from my eye, and she rubbing my arm. For part of it, I really felt like I might pass out, but she began talking to me, and I think I was too excited by all of it to let myself relax that much.

After several minutes, I composed myself, and went to stand once more to go and look in the mirror.

“Hold on a moment, Chris.” She held my arm with one hand, and reached for a tissue with the other. “Give me a moment to fix your makeup. Most of what I used was waterproof, but as your first lesson in cosmetics, nothing works just as advertised. If it does, it's probably luck.”

I knew that I'd not rubbed my eyes, because of the makeup, so I was a little surprised as I turned politely to face her again. “Did I make much of a mess?” I asked, sorry to have ruined what I'd seen in the mirror that looked so good.

“Not at all, Chris.” She dabbed my eyes. “In fact, you did very little. It will only take a moment to fix it up as good as new. Don't worry. I kind of expected some emotion, which is why this will take a little longer to get off of you. I'll teach you, later. Girls fix their makeup constantly, although by your age, they've lost the instinct to rub their eyes, or pick their noses.”

We both giggled just a little.

“You aren't really doing this for the dance, are you, Miss Lynn?” I asked in a voice that sounded much more calm that I felt.

“No.” She said as she pulled me to my feet. “I could have said so, but the truth is, that this is more about what you've been checking out from the library, and the way you reacted to the dresses. ” She shrugged a little then too. “Sometimes girls just know things too, Chris.”

That sank in fairly quickly. I already knew that I had given away how I really felt. “Amy?”

“Yes?”

“Can't you get in trouble?”

She paused then. “I guess I could, if you were to turn me in.” She smiled at me even then. “I don't think you'll do that, though.”

I shook my head to confirm it without saying that I'd never have betrayed her.

“Besides,” she continued as she steered me toward the mirror, “with the dance, and Mrs. Pierce putting Thomas in a skirt first, I don't see how this can go that badly for either of us.”

I nodded my head. I understood that she was right.

“I'm a little ashamed, but I don't think that I'd be helping you, without the dance. If we'd just done this, I'd probably be out of here about ten minutes after we were caught, because they think I like pretty girls, I'm sure.” She faced me toward the mirror, and stepped up to my shoulder. “That would have been a shame, Chris.”

I nodded, once more drawn to the mirror by an instinct that was suddenly so much stronger than fear.

She gave me a few moments to check that my face was as pretty as it had been before I had cried. “I was hoping that you'd talk to me now, Chris. I'd like to listen to whatever you'd like to tell me.”

I nodded my head a little, and smiled just a very little too.

“There it is!” She said as she smiled back at the mirror. “You are very much prettier when you smile.” She squeezed my shoulders briefly. “I have a request though. May I please have another dance? You are so pretty, and I'd love to very much.”

I nodded my head, as I felt her spray something along my neck. It smelled pretty and feminine.

“Here.” She said handing me a package of knee-high nylons, and a pair of shoes. “Sit down and put these on for me.”

“What would you like to know?” I asked her.

“Everything, and anything you'd like to tell me.” She answered. “It's not an investigation. I just want to be your friend.”

“Why?” the question was out before I thought about how it would sound.

Thank goodness, she laughed a little to herself.

“Well, that's a tough one. I suppose it's because I like you. I think you are one of the nicest boys I've ever met. I also think that you need a friend you can talk to worse than anyone I've ever met.” She thought for a moment “It's no secret that you've been all but abandoned here by your parents. You teachers have also picked up on the fact that although you are fairly well liked around here, you don't seem to have any really close chums you spend your off time with.” She just shrugged her shoulders.

“Is that why you planned all of this?” I asked her, mortified to find that what I thought I'd kept fairly low profile, had been so obvious to so many.

She laughed, to herself I thought, again. “I hate to tell you this, Chris, but I didn't actually plan any of this. I thought about it, but I didn't plan it until about a half hour ago.” She reached down too take the shoe that seemed a little too big for me, and gave me an identical smaller pair.

“But?” I tried to sum it up succinctly. “The underwear?”

She smiled and shook her head. “Chris, the underwear was originally for me. I bought a couple of slips because I wanted to use some of the gowns in here for practice, and I've found that a lot of them have rough seams in them from years of alterations. They were poking me. The other things, including the panties that you seem to have decided to wear, were just things that I'd picked up for myself. Fortunately, you are just about the same size as me, and have a complexion close enough too mine for my makeup to work fairly well. Well…Very well.”

I was stunned. “So you didn't plan this?”

“NO.” She told me very softly, shaking her head. “The truth is, that I made up my mind to offer you this chance when I saw how you were with Tom.”

“Tom?” I was feeling very confused and frightened again.

She paused visibly then, and I could see her thinking. “Yes.”

She stopped to watch, as I slipped on the shoes that fit me well enough, and stood up on a short heel for the first time. “Woe, there, girl.” She said, as she held her hand out to steady me slightly. “Your balance is bound to be a little off, with all the unaccustomed weight in even short heels. Take a moment to walk around a bit.”

I nodded my head and began to take a few steps with her hand on my arm. In fact, I found the shoes felt a little different, but I had no trouble at all walking in them. “What was it about Tom that made you decide to help me?” I asked her, finally.

She paused again, but only for a moment “I'll be honest here, Chris, because I'm asking the same of you, but you have to promise not to be upset. I really don't want to offend you with what I'm about to say.”

I was terrified, at the thought of what awful thing I'd done, or she thought she needed to tell me, but I somehow managed to nod my head in promise.

“Well, It wasn't Tom. It was you.” She was looking at me again, with that examining look. “Please try to understand that I'm not saying this to be mean or to suggest anything; but, when you were dancing with Tom, you looked just like… Well, I think you're more like a girl. ”

Her eyes were checking out my brain, inside my pockets, my everything, which is why I didn't notice what I was doing, until I'd nodded again.

“In fact, when I first looked over at you, I might easily have thought that someone had slipped one of their friends into the practice. The way you were looking up at him, and laughing at him, and the way he reacted to you… well you looked just like any of my friends when I went to high school. You looked just like any one of us would have, except for the silly looking clothes.”

I thought about that, as she inspected my brainwaves, and every minute expression on my face. I understood. A lot of guys that I knew would have wanted to slug her for saying that. At first I was a little taken back by it to be sure, but mostly I just felt relieved. Then I realized, much to my amazement, that the thought her seeing me looking like that made me feel really good inside. I felt good in the same way as breathing in the perfume and knowing it was me, or in the way I looked so much like a girl in the mirror. It made me feel warm and content. That is why I smiled, I'm sure of it.

Miss Lynn, Amy, smiled too.

“I'm so glad that I didn't upset you.” She said, clearly relieved. “That, by the way is why I told you to call me Amy. I can't imagine being who you are, and never having another girl to talk to. Are you okay?”

“I'm not upset. I'm happy.” I put my hand on hers where it rested on my arm. “Did I really act like a girl would have?”

“You sure did!” she said with some enthusiasm creeping back into her voice, to supplant any sign of worry. “You looked just like one with all that giggling and smiling up at the handsome boy who'd asked you to dance.”

I whispered “Now, I look even a little more like that. Thanks to you.” I said it while turning to the mirror to admire just how nicely the dress and makeup made me look.

“More than that, little one.” She said, even though with the heels I was only about a half an inch shorter than she was now. “In fact, I can tell you that most of my friends, when they were your age, would have killed to look as nice as you do now. We haven't even tried half of the tricks either. You look just like a girl for a reason, Chris - a very pretty girl.”

“Thank you.” I said, a little flustered.

“Oh, and one more thing, you should probably know. It's the kind of thing one girl always tells another.” She said a little more seriously, even though she seemed to be grinning a lot more all of a sudden. I half expected her to tell me that my fly was open, except for the fact that I didn't have one at that particular moment.

“What?” I said, sounding pretty worried.

She giggled. “Well its just that I happen to know that the boy Tom was talking about, Richard, their other roommate moved out several months ago.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, as I stopped to look at her confused.

“I mean that I think he made it all up, just to make you laugh.”
She only paused for an instant.

“I think he was reacting to you, the way you were acting, in the same way really nice boys always seem to react instinctively to really nice girls. I think he wanted you to like him.”

I don't even remember her placing the CD in the player.

Somehow, I don't think anyone can appreciate what a waltz really is supposed to feel like unless you've done it in a dress like that. It was wonderful.

What she said to me then, uncannily mirrored my own thoughts yet again.

“Wow.”
 
 

 
 

My very special thanks to Geoff for his invaluable time and advice.

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

 
 

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Chapter III

 
 
 

     It was almost half past seven by the time Miss Lynn looked at her watch. “I've made you miss dinner, Chris. I'm sorry.”

“I don't mind. It was… worth it.” I said in such a shy way, that it made her grin at me.

“Wait here for a moment while I pop over to my apartment. Why don't you go into the dressing room, and I'll be right back. Okay?”

“Where are you going?” I asked breathlessly, wondering as much about how large my eyes must appear as I was about what she was up to. The thought of finding myself alone in the theater like this made me feel vulnerable, and the thought that someone else might walk in and find me there alone…

She reached out with both hands on my shoulders to turn me around.

“Don't try and take off your makeup, though. Leave it just as it is but you can take off the dress and slip. Just drop it to the floor, and step out of it.” She instructed while unbuttoning me with the speed of a lifetime of practice.

“Do you have your wallet with you?”

Asked suddenly, I had to shake my head in answer. There was no reason to carry a wallet at school. What on earth did she have planned now?

“Is it where I can get it for you?” She asked quickly.

“It's in my room, in the locked drawer in my desk.”

“Do you want to give me the key, or do you want to walk over there with me?”

I slipped her the key, and tried not to look like I was running to the dressing room.

 
 

 
 

     I had spent some time in the dressing room after changing into my pants but I was well into the process of covering up the racks we had looked through before she got back.

I knew that she was only gone a short time really but it had seemed so much longer.

“Here,” she said, shoving another shopping bag in my hands along with my wallet as she pulled out a pack of pantyhose. “Do you know what these are?” She asked in all seriousness.

“Of course I know what pantyhose are.” I informed her. “I go to a boys' school, not a boys’ planet.”

Far from being annoyed, it just made her grin at me. She knew how likely I was to strangle myself with them. It didn’t even need to be said.

“Good, then you should be able to change for me while I finish up here for you.” She dove into the nearest cabinet, the one that was full of shoes.

She said looking down at my boy's slacks. “Did you change your under things?” She asked only to have me nod. “Well put the pink pair back on before you put on the pantyhose, and if you have any trouble, give me a call. For goodness sakes though, don't run them. They are the only new pair I have left.”

I opened the bag, and I found a pink blouse, a grey skirt and belt set, and a small purse, that looked about the size of a wallet and hung on a long strap.

“Here.” She said, handing me a pair of girl's shoes as she pulled me over to the chair, and started to swap the green ribbon in my hair for a pink one.

“Naturally, there's a really cute shoe over there, guaranteeing that I could only find the one of them, but these will look nice too.”

“What?” I mumbled.

“I told you I'd take you out to grab a bite to eat if we missed dinner.” She said flatly.

“Like, in these?” I asked fearfully, even though I was really trying to sound calm. It honestly sounded more like a squeak.

“Just like this.” She smiled. “Don't worry. We are just going to hit the drive through. “Now you hurry and change, because I'm starved, and I really think that we need to take some time for us to talk.”

“Can't you get into trouble?”

It was her turn to blush. “I'm sure I could if the wrong people found out, but I really don't' think so.” She sighed and sat in a nearby chair. “You know I've been trading E-mails with your folks. They sent their permission to take you off campus if you needed to for Christmas, or just to talk if you thought that would help. You can go out on your own during the day on Saturday and Sunday as long as you carry a cell and we know where you are, so it's not that big a deal to be off campus as long as they know.”

“I was thinking more like a teacher dressing one of her student's up in her clothes.” The backs of my knees found a chair too, as what she'd said began to sink in. “What exactly did you tell them, Miss Lynn?”

She sighed again, and examined her hand pretty closely, before her eyes lifted to lock on mine.

“Not too much really. It's not the first time I've traded E-mails with them. I reminded them that I was one of your teachers. I told them that I thought that they had just an amazing kid on their hands. I told them that you were very smart and polite but that you were also a lonely, and a very, very sad kid.”

She looked down at both her hands then. “I also told them that you were dealing with a completely pissed off teacher, who was beside herself at the idea that a kid your age would spend three Christmases in a row at this school. They left you here that first Christmas too, didn't they? Right after they had dropped you off, and flew to Switzerland? The year before last?”

She was angry, and she was leaving no doubt about it at all. Not too many knew of that. The other kid who had spent that Christmas with me in Mrs. Pierce's home had graduated last year. He didn't really advertise it either.

I nodded.

She already knew this, of course, so her expression only softened a little in sympathy. “My God, Chris, that just sucks.”

“Did you say that to my parents?” I asked, feeling ill.

“I did, Chris. I was polite, but I told them flat out that you were probably more in need of family right now than anyone I know. I told them that I was alone too, and that I planned to spend as much time as I had free in making sure you were okay.”

“You could get into trouble, though, right? I mean this is just your first year?” I was really worried for her. Mrs. Pierce had been here twenty. She regularly told parents off, and could do the same to anyone else, but new teachers didn't do that. Let alone helping in other ways.

“I won't.” She leaned to put her hand on my knee. “I had to tell Mrs. Pierce and the headmaster that you were feeling so down. I had to as a human being, but they are also my bosses, and had every right to know”

I felt so sick again.

“Listen, Chris. We really do care, you know. We may just be teachers, but we see as much of you kids here than any of the parents usually do, and in some cases… one heck of a lot more.”

I understood her point, very well.

“So you see it really is okay. Now, if you want to, you can go in and get changed, and for goodness sakes, don't cry again! That mascara is hardly the best available. I'm a poor teacher after all, and there is a limit to what I can afford.”

It made me smile even as she did.

“I'm sorry I cry so easily.”

“Well, I imagine you do, and that's one of the things we need to talk over, but as far as I'm concerned, it's normal for girls to cry when they have every reason to. Now hurry up, I'm hungry. Besides, I'm sure that getting out of this mausoleum, if only for an hour, will do you a world of good.”

 
 

 
 

     The walk to the car, even though she had pulled it up to the door behind the theater was a long one. I could feel the coolness of the night on my tights, not cold, just different. I pulled at the hem of the skirt, which was a little too big, so I dared not pull too hard; so I just fiddled with it nervously as I waited for Miss Lynn to lock up the amphitheater.

The cool air woke me up too, and cleared my head, which just made me wonder even more frantically what I was doing. The clothes felt wonderful, and looked as nice as I'd imagined. Even the men's short grey army jacket that Miss Lynn found for me while I was changing looked really cool. However, My mind kept saying that I was not ready for this. Not even Miss Lynn knew that I dreamed this almost every night, but was really scared. I couldn't help reminding myself of it till the cold right seat of Miss Lynn's Toyota hit my bum.

 
 

 
 

     The drive through food made me realize how good my school dining room was. I was still just as nervous. I pulled my skirt down a little, again, making Miss Lynn smile at me in sympathy for the umpteenth time.

I threw most of the food away, I'm afraid, but then again, so did Miss Lynn. “We'll know not to try this place again.” She'd whispered.

Pulling out, she said. “I have to pop into the mall to replace some things in there. It will only take a minute, but I'd really appreciate it if you would come with me. The store has an exit to the outside and I'd feel a lot better if you came in. No one from the school will be in the store where I buy underwear, I promise you.”

I just knew it was a trap somehow, and I'm sure it showed on my face. I wanted to tell her that it really felt nice but I was still too afraid to say anything I didn't absolutely have to. I tried to take a couple of deep breaths.

“It really will be alright, Chris. You can stay in the car if you like and, if we can't find a place right next to the store and under the lights, I'll take us back to the school. I can get the stuff I need tomorrow if I have to. I just thought you might enjoy a little air.”

She was thoughtful while we drove a little way.

“Do you want me to take you back? I can run into my apartment to get some stuff, and take the makeup off, and you can go straight to your room?”

She was very patient with me.

“No.” I said a little breathy. “I'm sorry, I'm a little nervous but I'm not that nervous. You can stop at the mall.”

She just nodded, and didn't press me further.

“Oh, and Miss Lynn?”

“What is it, Chris?”

“Thank you. This is very nice of you. I know it's a big risk, and I wouldn't want you to do it again, because you could get into trouble, but I do appreciate it. It's something I've always dreamed about. I'll never forget it.”

She looked surprised for a moment and her voice was pretty soft too when she said. “It was my pleasure, Chris. I never imagined a god-awful fast food burger would be so important to you.”

She giggled just as soon as I did.

“So, Chris. Do you feel like talking? Student to Teacher, or Big sister to Little Sister? Your choice. I'm listening either way.”

“I'd like that.” I took a much deeper breath, and sighed it out slowly.

“You go first.” She said and she reached over to pat my hand as she turned to the main road that would take us north of the school, and to the large regional mall sited there.

“You said you'd done something like this for your little brother, Ma'am?”

“I did,” She said thoughtfully and pursed her lips. “I was kind of a geek all through junior high, and high school. Like most big sisters, I had a little brother that I thought must have been grown in a Petri dish.

"He had a lot more problems than you do. He was just about a year younger than you are now and, as you can imagine, I was working on the national geek award.”

I smiled a little, even though I tried not to.

“Laugh if you like, but you know it's true. Anyway about the time I discovered makeup and all things Girlie in my Junior year, I heard this news story about doctors in the UK finding distinct morphological differences in a transgendered person's brain. Well, being who I was, I started looking into it. I read what I could get my hands on at the public library and on the internet which back then was mostly one-person websites with a lot of bad information. None of the sites you could really trust but still interesting.

"It was about that time that I noticed that Tommy had a love of all things girly too.

"We were only about as close as average kids were, I suppose, and I have to say now, that I very much regret every time I ever hurt his feelings. It was easy to do, because he kind of worshiped me at that point, in the most annoying way possible.”

I had to ask. “Was he smart like you?”

She smiled and glanced over at me as she pulled up to the stop-line at a red light.

“No. I'd love to say yes, but I'm pretty sure I was a mutation. No one in my family, least of all my Mum and Dad, understood anything I'd say. Sometimes they'd listen politely for a while before they'd flick the channel with the remote, but no.” She sighed.

“In fact, I think that's in part why Tommy had a lot more problems than you do. He was not in as good a school mind you. He was not so lucky.

"Anyway, I suddenly realized one day, after walking into my room right behind him, what his problem was. He almost fell over looking at my things. I think he was a transvestite. He would get pretty excited over my things at that point, being about fifteen and always on the verge of out of control anyway. I just noticed before anyone else. Hence my experience with buying him his own under things.”

I felt embarrassed, but I'm pretty sure I understood.

“I helped him. I don't think it was enough, but I helped as much as I could, and kept him out of trouble till I went to college.”

“After that?”

She looked really reluctant now. “After that he was more on his own. Mum and Dad didn't understand. He made some mistakes, and got into some trouble, but he's better now. He lives far away in New York with some girl I don't really like, but he is taking care of himself now - finally.”

“It was good of you to help him.” I said. For a few moments there, I'd been afraid that I'd opened up some major hurt for her and, I supposed, I probably had but she was very much an adult and could handle it.

“He was lucky, Chris.” She said, accelerating as far as the next red light. “So what about you. Would you like to tell me what's going on with you? And while you are at it, please God, tell me I haven't gotten this all wrong because of my past experiences.”

She was smiling again.

She sounded so genuine in her worry. It helped to make me feel more like Big Sister, Little Sister. I think that's what made me feel best of all… I think.

“You weren't wrong.” I only whispered, but she heard me over the idle of the engine. If I'd breathed twice before doing so, she probably could not have over the engine as we pulled away yet again.

“Well, why not start with Titanic, Cinderella, Shakespeare in Love, Notting Hill… You and Mrs. Laurie are the only ones in that whole school who check out romantic movies every weekend.”

I smiled. “I know. Halloween week she found Roger's and Hammerstein's Cinderella, and I haven't been able to get it since.”

She smiled again as she finally cleared the last light.

“I don't know, I just like those movies, I guess.”

“Why?”

“Wow, you don't make it easy.” I sighed.

“I don't make it either way, Chris It can be as easy, or hard, as you like. If you are talking to your big sister here, then there is no worry if you get it right or wrong. Just tell me what you want to.”

“Okay. I like those movies because they make me cry.”

“Go on.” She said gently.

“When I watch them I can feel so much. I know what they are feeling. When one of the characters knows how much they want to be loved, and how much they want to be with someone, it's like what I want. They are just stories, but they make me feel a little better for a while. Except for the first time I watched Titanic. That made me feel wretched for a long time, but just the first time I saw it.” I sighed “I suppose that when I watch something that all the other guys like, such as 'Aliens' or 'Predator', I like them too. Especially anything Sci-Fi, but the other movies are different.”

“And what about the magazines, and books?”

“I suppose you don't mean the other science fiction?”

“No.” she smiled in a very reassuring way, before saying: “You little idiot, I'm gonna tell mom if you don't start talking.” she threatened, making me giggle in spite of my fear, while she looked over with a grin.

“I like looking at the girls…” I took a deep breath. “I love their clothes, but it's more. Those girls have the lives that I wish I could have more than anything. They look like they feel pretty, and they look so happy. They get to be models and people help them to look that way every day…”

“That would get old pretty quick for someone as smart as you.”

“Maybe, but it would sure be nice to just try.”

She nodded. We had reached the ramp down to the mall parking lot. Not as many folk as I expected, and we were silent until she found a place close to the store she wanted. A huge high-end department store that monopolized one whole end of the mall.

“You are very pretty. It's easy for you.” I whispered very softly again, so I'm not sure if she even heard that over the sound of the car.

“So you like the girls' clothes too?” she said turning off the car.

“Yes, but that's not the most important part… I don't know, really, but I think it may be how happy they look. It's like they know that someday someone might come along and love them and take care of them, and…”

“Chris, do you know the difference between a transvestite, and someone who is transgendered?”

“Not really. I do know that Transvestites are men who like to wear women's clothes. I suppose like me, if I ever got the chance.”

For several moments I could see her thinking, and was sure that she was going to ask about wearing my mother's clothes or something. I'd only done that once, not long before the incident in the pool. It was one of the things that had kept me up so many nights wondering if it had all been my fault. If she were to ask me about that, I'd probably tell her the whole thing. I already couldn't believe all the things that were coming out of my mouth. I never told anyone any of these things, but I just could not control it, and that scared me more than anything else did right now.

“If this is too personal Chris, I want you to tell me. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Does it excite you to think about wearing women's clothes? Sexy clothes?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” She asked bluntly.

Seems like I actually surprised her for the first time.

“Can you tell me a little, Chris?”

“I'm not sure. It does, a little, but I mostly just love the clothes and the idea of looking nice and even… sexy. Mostly because someone else thinks so. When I dream, I think more about having someone who thinks I look nice would be the nicest thing possible. I'd love to be able to do this with someone I love and who loved me, but mostly I just feel like me. I can't really explain it as much as I feel it in here.”

I didn't know how to go on. Fortunately she did.

“I understand, Chris. I really do. No need to explain further.”

She looked back at the mall doors for several moments in silent contemplation.

“I don't think I can help you as much as I'd like with what I'm about to suggest. For all kinds of reasons I should go to doctor Cross and explain what you've confided, but I won't."

Great, I thought. The school psychologist.

"You have to do that, Chris. I think that one day, very soon, you will have to explain all of this to your Mum and Dad as well. I know they may be M.I.A. now, and I'm having a hard time justifying that, but I've talked to them, and I believe they are basically pretty decent sorts. More importantly though, you need to get it off your chest for your own sake.”

I felt sick, but I could feel my head nodding also. That was all pretty obvious once someone else knew. It made it all seem bigger somehow. Farther from the norm. Like you can't ignore a little secret anymore, because it's not so little, or because it was no longer a secret.

“I know.” I said, finally.

“God, Chris. Please, don't feel so sad. I mean if they want to kill you, which I doubt, they're gonna have to come a long way to do it. I'm pretty sure we have rules to prevent such things at Saint Andrew's either way. In addition, Doctor Cross is a good man, Chris. I'm sure he'll help.”

I felt an almost smile, but I could only watch her now.

“I hope you really do know, Chris. I also want you to go to the library tomorrow, and look up those two words. Transvestite and transsexual. If I need to, I'll authorize special access, but I want you to understand them. It's important. Only you can really tell, but a good doctor can really help a lot, so I don't want you to dare try to freak on me.”

It seemed like a good idea.

“So what do you say? I'd love for you to come with me, but only if you would want to too. I promise I won't let anything happen to you. I know Judo, you'll recall.”

She made me feel a little chuckle again. I looked beyond her to the door as several women walked out, and then a man and a woman walked in. It looked awfully bright inside, but I suddenly felt only one way.

“I'd like to go.”

“Okay, but you need to promise me two things. Smile a little. That army jacket with that skirt looks really cute and stylish, but if you mope through that store, you're going to look like someone on the way to prison or something.”

I smiled.

“Excellent. That brings me to the second assignment. Leave your skirt alone. It looks adorable, especially with that army issue jacket, but it's already as adorable as it's ever going to get - so are you. Okay?”

I smiled and nodded as I deliberately smoothed the front of my… her skirt.

“Super! Let's go, Chrissy.” She teased as she moved us out.

“Actually that skirt looks really cute. It's always been one of my favorites, but it's way too short to wear around school, so actually I'm kind of pissed by how good it looks on you. I now understand why my friends always got so annoyed when their little sisters borrowed their clothes.”

I giggled as I walked to the door, taking every one of my butterflies along with me. I’d have thought at least one or two of them would want to stay behind, but no such luck. My tummy was too much fun apparently. I really wanted to reach out for Amy's hand, but I was afraid to do it. Instead, I just tried to smile just like she’d asked me to.

Just before we went through the door, she put her hand on my shoulder and whispered. “You should know that you look just like one of those girls in the magazines now, so let's just have fun little one.”

Of course I was really smiling, then, when I went through the doors.

 
 

 
 

     “How does it feel?” she asked.

“Great. A little scary but great.”

“That's not what I mean Chrissy.”

I looked confused.

“I mean, how do you like going into a girls' department, and looking at everything without feeling really, really, embarrassed!”

I giggled, as she took my hand, and headed for the underwear. She quickly picked up the things she needed, while pointing out all kinds of pretty things to me.

“This is more your color.”

“Really?”

“Yup. The rose color would be lovely on you. You have pretty fair skin, but it has some color too. The rose would look very pretty. White's usually best for girls without any tan, but black can be very pretty and practical too. I wear black a lot.”

“Really?”

“Oh, grow up, Chrissy.” We both really giggled.

She moved on to another rack, to look at some more feminine things. I realized that they were garters and cinchers and things I'd only seen in pictures.

On impulse, she pulled one out and held it up to me, making me freeze while trying to look around out of the corners of my eyes, even while I watched her in disbelief.

“Do you know what this is?”

“It's a corset?” I said feeling silly.

“See there. Book learner. That's a bustier. It's similar, but it doesn't have the strength that a corset does. Still, something like this would still help you try the blue dress, if I could ever afford it. Besides, it would have to be kept somewhere other than your room. Pretty hard to explain when the little animals are visiting and the dirty laundry fight breaks out.”

I raised my eyebrows, and nodded in agreement. I mean the guys were mostly pretty decent, but there were limits.

She picked up two packages off yet another table, showing me a full-length slip with a full skirt. It looked very expensive. “Here, we'll get this for you, so if you decide to wear a skirt for practice, at least this will make it work and feel much better.”

“You shouldn't, it's expensive, and I'll probably never…”

“Hush, Chrissy. Mom said you had to mind.” She grinned. “Besides, if Mrs. Pierce gets her way, you may actually need it. Are you ready to go?”

“I suppose.”

“Is there something you'd like to see?” She asked, giving me that look again, as if she was going to start counting the thoughts inside my head.

“Makeup?” I said, hoping not to sound too needy.

She laughed. “Come one.” She dragged me toward a cluster of counters in the center of the floor.

When I was busy looking at the counters, a very pretty blond girl a little younger than Miss Lynn snuck up on me.

“Can I help you, Miss? Were you looking for something in particular?”

She had one of those very pretty faces, with lots of makeup, even though it was all perfectly done. Because of that, and because I was still trying figure out how to respond to the 'Miss' thing, Miss Lynn answered for me before I looked completely brain damaged.

“We are just looking for some Christmas present ideas.”

“We've gotten in a lot of gift sets, in all price ranges. I'd be glad to show you, if you'd like.” She was really pretty, but her tone only told us it was just about an hour till quitting time. She wouldn't be glad at all.

Miss Lynn spoke up again. “No, thank you, Donna. We'll just be looking for a few minutes, but we'll call if we have any questions.”

Donna nodded and walked away holding her hands together in front of her.

“Thanks.” I said, feeling like I needed to catch my breath.

“Don't worry. The teenage girls in shopping malls frighten everyone.”

I began to scan the counters, and looking at colors and such. I was drawn to a lipstick display. I knew they had a lot of colors, and types, but I just couldn't believe they needed so many. I picked one up, when I caught sight of Miss Lynn grinning at me in the mirror on the counter. At first I was confused, when I remembered what she'd said about her girlfriend. I put the lipstick back, and she laughed.

Donna was back.

“That would look nice, but I think that this shade is a little better for what you have on now.” She showed it to me. I couldn't help but glancing back to see Miss Lynn raise her brows slightly, and nod her head in agreement as she too looked at the color.

“Would you like to try it?”

I was too stunned. It became very obvious that Donna was one of those girls who could probably make Bozo's makeup look good, even though she'd probably put too much on him too.

“I'm not sure…” I sounded like a little kid.

“It's nothing.” Donna said, walking around the counter. “I have a few more samples of this one left, so I can use a new one. Christine is an expensive brand, but they are worth it. Hold still, these things are too small…”

Before I could shy away, she had me by my face, and was putting the lipstick on me. I wanted to look at Miss Lynn, but the girl had my chin, and my eyes would only turn so far.

“There. If you'll look, I think that's also very nice for that outfit and your skin.”

I couldn't help but turn immediately at the mirror.

Amy moved up beside me to look in the mirror too, and nodded in clear approval.

“You can keep this little sample, if you like.” Donna said, looking interested for the first time.

I knew I should get away from the mirror, but I couldn't help myself.

“You have kits?” I heard someone whisper, who sounded a lot like me.

Donna was very interested now. “They are in a higher price range. My friends almost never buy their stuff, but they have really nice colors, and they work really well. All except for the foundation. It could cover dents in a car, but it's just too oily for me…”

I kept coming back to the two kits that she had pulled out. The first was the top of the line, and even though I had read everything I could get my hands on, I still had no idea what some of the things were. For near two hundred dollars, it probably had an instruction manual.

“… And of course, along with the colorless powdered foundations I showed you, which are much better for every day, I can also say that some of the new lash building mascaras are something anyone would like.”

Donna too was watching me, and feeling that her night might not be a complete waste, I was sure. I looked back for Miss Lynn, but she had moved for a moment to look at something in a jewelry counter.

“What is that perfume you are wearing?” She asked.

We were over at the perfume counter, when I saw Miss Lynn smiling at me, from across two counters. An older woman, in her thirties I'd say had just come over to ring her up. While Donna sprayed another scent on a small slip of paper, and waved it under my nose. It made me want to close my eyes and swoon. It was perfect.

“Here let me put it on your wrist, and we'll see if it smells as good on. I can't wear it at all, but on the right people… Hummm. Very nice.”

It was. I smelled my wrist carefully, and I couldn't believe how nice it smelled.

“Would you like me to get you a bottle? The small toilet water is only Fifty-two.” Donna asked, trying to close a sale.

I sniffed it again, making the bright lights along the counters seem to spin a little.

“Yes.” I could not help myself. “How much is that bottle. the middle one.”

“That's the cologne, at three ounces it's only a hundred and sixty-five.” Donna said, looking down at me with an odd expression. I don't know why, but I don't think I'd have liked it no matter how I was dressed.

“I'll take both.” I said, mostly because the cologne was just perfect.

“Very good.” She said, her expression still having a feel of disbelief.

“Will that be cash or charge?” She said, with both purple boxes in her hands, as she began to walk toward the counter.

“I have a card.” I said, unable to take my eyes off of her, as I began to fish it out of the little purse along with my ID.

“Will there be anything else?” She said not looking at me as she walked around a display, toward the register.

“Yes.” I felt myself say, even though my cheeks were burning.

Donna turned and looked at me.

“I'd like the makeup you showed me too.”

“Which one?” Donna asked.

“The big one you showed me. And I'll take the foundation and the mascara as well, if you don't mind.”

I knew I wanted it, more than anything, but I just didn't know what had come over me.

At first, Donna hesitated, but then she saw the color of the card in my hand. She moved to get the items, and I watched her pick up a tube of that lipstick as well.

When she came back. I handed her the card.

“Chris!” I heard Miss Lynn gasp right behind me. “What are you doing?”

She startled me, forcing me to look back at her. She did not look happy.

“Are you sure you don't want to look around first. It's only the first week of December, and I think…”

It only took the second time for her to glance at the card, before I realized what had her so upset.

“I'm sorry.” Donna said behind me, “Is this your father's? We can't accept cards from third parties anymore…” She did not look happy. She looked like she wanted to throw the card at me, but instead she looked like she'd slip it into the register.

Oh, man! She'd be so pissed about the sale, she'd probably call security!

I didn't know what else to do, except for what I had intended all along. “Here,” I said, handing her another card from the small stack, which was a pictured ID I had to carry. “The card belongs to me, but it is my father's account.”

I heard several noises behind me that I couldn't identify, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from Donna.

“Excuse me a moment.” Donna said, before walking over to the other woman with my card and ID. I couldn't look back, and tried to look as casual as possible, as I looked at the counter. I expected Amy to grab me from behind, but she never did.

They were coming.

“Chris?” The older woman asked, as she walked beside me.

“Yes, Ma'am. That's me.” I said as loudly as I could manage, which wasn't very loud at all.

“I just have to verify this card. I'm sure you realize that. Some years ago, my uncle used to hand me his card, and I'd go shopping wherever I wished. It's a different world now.” She smiled as she swiped the card.
“That's a cute skirt.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled at me, but her eyes were looking from me to Miss Lynn and back. I expected them to drift up to look at the cameras, but they never did.

From behind me. “She's just doing a little shopping…”

I could have sworn I heard “Damn it.” follow by “She,” or a hiss.

The little terminal blinked a little word: 'approved.'

The older woman smiled. “I'm Leslie, by the way"; she reached over the counter as she lay down a slip and a pen in front of me.

I signed.

“Thank you very much, Chris.” Leslie said with smile. I couldn't help but glance over at Donna who was just watching and trying not to stare at me too obviously. “Someone is going to have a nice Christmas. Please remember us if you need anything else. Donna is very good with colors and such, and we very much appreciate your business. We hope you'll come back soon.”

She took something out of the large bag that Donna was packing, and wrapped the cologne in two slips of tissue before putting the small items in a smaller bag on their own.

“Thank you, Ma'am. I will.” my voice sound so strangely normal, as I turned to go, but I was sure my face was almost as pink as some of the lipsticks.

No it wasn't. It wasn't as pale as Miss Lynn's either…

 
 

 
 

     “I 'm sorry.” I said, as we sat waiting for the arrow to turn out of the mall.

“You said you wouldn't freak out on me, Chris.” I couldn't even define the tone of her voice.

“I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. That girl…”

“Chris, you have nothing to prove to that girl.”

“I wanted the makeup too.”

“I hope it's for a Christmas present, Chris.” that sounded exasperated.

“Are you mad at me, Miss Lynn?” I could feel my eyes filling up. “I know you took a terrible risk, but I…”

She sighed very heavily, which frightened me.

“I'm not mad at you, Chris. I did that with my little brother, and I understand, but you have to be careful. Either one of those two could have caused problems, and you are right, I did take a terrible risk doing this. I could lose my job. I could even be put in jail if someone wanted to be a complete ass.”

I could see her counting to about a thousand.

“Chris. Listen to me, because this is very important. I believe that people should be able to be however it makes them feel best. I really, really do. Nevertheless, that does not alter the fact that you have to be very careful. You can't just do the same things like you've always done, not because it's not unfair, but because you always have to be careful because some other person may be freaked out.”

“I understand.”

“Do you really?” She asked, looking at me.

It was hard, but I looked her in the eye. “I really do. I didn't really think, but I really do understand. I'm sorry.”

“Okay.” She said, slowing to the lights again. It was almost like a dance, this part of the road, and it took her attention away from me for several seconds.

“How much did you spend?”

“Five hundred and sixty-seven.” I told her.

“You see! I keep forgetting you little buggers have more money in your piggy banks than my parents have in their house.” She still didn't look happy, but she didn't say anything else.

“Amy?” I said, deliberately trying to use her first name.

“Yes Chris?”

“I really am, sorry.”

“Don't worry about it.” She gave one of those deeper sighs, and shook her head. “I'm not mad at you. You can stop apologizing. I really do understand. I was sure you’d be a little nuts, but I just didn't realize it would be something so… high profile.”

“Will you get into trouble?”

She thought about that for a long time, which was even scarier than my lack of any kind of control.

“No.” she finally said.

She didn't offer further, and I didn't ask anything more.

It was later now, and in my wing, you could see several of the rooms had a television glow. That would be very unusual on a weekday, but it was more likely on a Friday. Given the season, most of the rooms were dark anyway.

“Here.” she said, handing me the package containing the slip, and a large bottle of makeup remover from her own bag. “You might as well carry these too. Consider the makeup remover my Christmas gift early. It's the one thing you forgot to buy.”

“Sor--”

“Sorry. I know, Chris. If those really are presents, then you can give it back to me.”

She looked at the door to the House. There were only about twenty rooms in my wing. The place looked dark.

“Do you want to come to my office, and I'll help you with the makeup?”

I looked toward where her office was, and there were way more lights there. That didn't mean that there were more people, but there might be someone there. In the wing where my room was, there were mostly single and double rooms, and I was pretty sure that no one was up there. I don't think there was anyone right near my room at all.

“No, Ma'am. I think it's best if I just go up.”

She looked. “I think so too. Would you like me to come?”

I shook my head, and opened the door as I dug in my purse for the cardkey that would open the door on this end of the wing.

I felt the stupidest impulse to scurry for the door, but I made up my mind to walk as normal as possible. The light in the car came on, and I instinctively pulled the door back toward me a little to turn it off and prevent anyone seeing from inside the dorm.

“Miss Lynn?”

“Are you sure you're okay, Chris?” She asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I nodded, I'm sure with my eyes looking like one of those anime Characters. “Thank you, Ma'am. I'll never…”

“I understand Chris. I just hope that everyone else does.”

On an impulse I couldn't believe, I leaned over to kiss her cheek.

She started to laugh, and reached up to click the switch on the courtesy light, before she lightly hit my shoulder.

“Go slow, and be quiet.” She said to me, as I got out with my bags.

“I will.”

I pulled my skirt down all the way to the door I’m afraid, where I paused for only a second before I swiped my cardkey. The green light and the click were immediate. Miss Lynn, I noticed, was still waiting to make sure I got in safely.

'Such a gentlemen', I thought, making myself giggle psychotically for just a moment before the fear of being caught reasserted itself. The psychotic giggles continued inside, only without the actual laughter until I had the feeling of the closed door to my room against my back. That allowed me to take my first deep breath for many minutes.

Across the room, I could see myself in the darkened window. “If you ever do that again, I’m going to need to practice your breathing.” The real giggle released the jumping in my middle.

Even though my legs felt as weak as they ever had, when I realized I was safe, it didn't feel better than when I went into the bathroom to stare into my mirror again.

Looking at the bags, forgotten right in my hand, made me feel odd in a different way. I’d never dreamed I’d actually have them, but here they were. It was a shock, but a nice shock that made me grin.

It felt a heck of a lot better than the makeup remover in my eye, which feels a little like fire before it turns to marching army ants. I thought the big bottle was to remove a lot, but girls probably spill most of it.

It was only ten, when I finished cleaning up, and I was used to being up much later than that on a Friday nights but I just had to lie down. I was feeling so tired suddenly. I just had to lie on my bed for a moment. As I tucked my arm under my cheek, I could smell the perfect perfume on my wrist… The dreams were perfect too.

 
 

 
 

My very special thanks to Geoff for his invaluable time and advice.

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

 
 

If you like this story, please, click in the vote box to the lower left.   Comments are always welcome, and appreciated!

Chapter IV

 
 
 

     “Freddie? Are you daft?”

I couldn't believe what I was seeing, even this early on a Monday morning. Freddie Thomas was striding down the hallway outside of the administrative offices, wearing his blazer, a tie, and a long green skirt that was swishing around his ankles like wheat in a prairie wind. He looked like some deranged highlander, who got the kilt thing horribly wrong.

“Chris!” He waved from twenty feet away. “How they hanging? Just the guy I wanted to see.”

At just that moment, Mrs. Pierce stepped out right behind Freddie, calling his name loudly. All I could do was stare at them both, looking from one to the other, and wondering what color the mushroom cloud would be.

“Mr. Thomas.” She began after finally getting his attention. “I'm sure with the caliber of English professors we've provided for your possible edification, that you have been taught “How are they hanging,” is the only acceptable way to phrase such a question. However, you should only do so when the object is both clearly understood, and is a subject that might be raised so loudly in mixed company, such as in the instance of one surgeon speaking to another while discussing a patient, since you seem to need the example.”

“Sorry Mrs. Pierce.” Freddie said, not looking sorry at all. “I did not see you there.”

I wanted to laugh. No one ever saw Mrs. Pierce coming. It was as much a part of the school mythology as the idea that the board of governors who actually ran the place were in fact the least fortunate inmates at a nearby mental hospital.

Mrs. Pierce leaned slightly to one side studying Freddie's skirt, and pursed her lips.

I closed my eyes.

“Not to worry, since in referring mixed company, I was in fact referring to you, Mr. Thomas. Did you ask to borrow the CD from Miss Lynn?”

Now my eyes were wide open.

“Yes, Mrs. Pierce. It's in the theater, and I'll pick it up before lunch.”

“Thank you, Mr. Thomas, and I do like the green skirt better. You were right.”

“Thank you Mrs. Pier…” She was already gone.

Freddie turned to me, and walked over quickly to put his arm around my shoulders.

“So how ya doing, Chris? They thought you were missing this weekend, till you just showed up like Mrs. Pierce this morning.”

I babbled, to be sure, but I'm pretty sure the noises I made for a few heartbeats couldn't be called talk. “What are you doing?” I asked rather bluntly, finally.

“I assume you are referring to my keenly developed fashion sense? Well you see, I found a way to turn this thing to my advantage. Mrs. Pierce asked if I would please wear this to the practice. I mean, Miss Lynn did ask if you'd wear one too, right?”

I nodded, because my eyes were still roving from the top of his head to the bottoms of his skirt.

“Well, it's simple. The going rate for a tutor here is thirty-five bucks an hour. It's meaningless, since for half of the assholes it would only mean shifting the gold from one vault to another in Zurich.” Freddie was a scholarship kid. “Well three of these guys asked me to help them out outside the lessons where no one could see. So I decided why not? It pays to advertise, and I meet my first client in room sixteen right after Greek History.”

“Why didn't you just wear a sign?” I asked as he began to steer us both toward the languages wing.

“Funny you should ask, Chris. I was going to wear a flower in my hair, but if you think a sign would work better.”

“Would you mind, Freddie.” I asked squirming to get out from under his arm.

“Oh sure man. Sorry, I'm still used to leading. So anyway, I ran it by Mrs. Pierce, and Freddie’s school of trip the light fantastic is in full swing.”

He laughed suddenly. “Get it?”

“I get it. And you have three clients?”

“Three now, but it could have been four. One guy wanted to meet me in the dining room after lunch and have coffee so we could discuss it…”

We looked at each other before he gave me an exaggerated nod.

“… I mean, I'm no prude, usually, but since he asked me I've been bugg'en worse than old man Farthing and his third largest collection of cockroaches outside of the Smithsonian.”

I know I made a face, and I admit it was rude, but I didn't mean to.

“Freddie, Are you pulling my chain? Are you sure?”

“Oh, Yeah! I'm sure. I thought he was going to cry when I told him to look you up.”

“Jesus Freddie, Thanks!”

“Don't mention it! Besides, the way I hear it, you already got yourself a date for the prom.”

“What?!!”

“Tom Anders. The way I hear it, you two looked mighty cute together. You mooning over him and giggling, and him telling everyone how lovely you looked in that sequined ball gown…”

“I was wearing my uniform pants, Freddie. Who…”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder I guess. Besides that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. You can charge them if you like. I've already got my client list. I wanted to ask you what you thought about the rumor?”

“What rumor?”

“Chris? You sleep all weekend, man? Some lucky bastard snuck a girl into the school on Friday Where have you been? Oh! sorry, this is my stop, Chris, Greek, which predates your class in Latin by a few years. Ladies lingerie is in room 22, Chris, right over there with Professor Tam…”

He was gone.

Other than the slight headache left in his wake, there was only confusion. I just made it to my seat before Professor Tam began to speak.

“Well, Gentlemen, Good morning! Can anyone tell me why my disappointment at your woeful progress has flourished into a full-blown clinical depression? No one? Well let me just remind you of what I thought I'd taught so ably in your first year of Latin grammar, that all verbs in Latin have tenses. They are either implied, or are taken on by the verb form, but they all have….”

Someone had a girl in the school. Lucky bastard. Dead, but lucky…

 
 

 
 

     Freddie had a flower in his hair that looked like an old paper carnation or something. It was hard not watching it, as he looked at his watch to check the time.

“So?” I asked him.

“So what?”

“Freddie, I think you might want to pull the stem of that thing out a little. It's in too deep.” He grinned and patted the flower he'd Scotch taped behind his ear. Probably, after stealing it from a dead guy.

“What are you talking about, girlfriend?” He said in falsetto. “Oh!” He said, looking at this watch again just to piss me off.

“Forget it, Freddie, I should have known better…”

“All right, All right. You need a softer brand of panty man. Anyway, no one seems to know anything. A couple of the guys said that Miss Lynn found a girl on campus Friday night.”

“Friday night?” I had to ask again, hopeless as it was, because it was still getting more confusing every time he spoke. Then it dawned on me that she must have found her right after dropping me off. “Oh, man! She must have caught them after… practice.”

“That's what I figured. All anyone knows for sure, is that two of the guys in the B wing saw Miss Lynn as she was walking the little vixen out to drive her home or something. We assume the staff knows what is going on, but as usual, they won't talk. You feel'n alright?”

I nodded.

“You're free study, right? You want to come along with me rather than going to the library?”

I shook my head, and he was long gone before I began to move toward my room. I just felt so ill all of a sudden.

Another kid, standing in a group just outside the library, asked me where I was going, so I told him I was headed to my room, because I was feeling ill. I know I was holding my arms around my stomach.

“Maybe you got your period, man. I think Willis got his the day they drafted him…”

“… Yeah, maybe you can get a tampon from him… you know, if you're out.” Another kid suggested, before they fell apart.

I could only look at them as I passed, and I guess I didn't look good.

“Hey Chris. You feeling alright? We were just kidding. You want to see the nurse?”

“I'll be okay. I think I had a bad turkey sausage this morning or something.”

“I'm sorry, man. You sure?”

I nodded. “Funny stuff, though. I'm okay,” I said as I finally got past them.

I sat down gingerly on my bed. What I didn't understand was, why Miss Lynn would not say anything. Surely she'd heard the rumor by now. Teachers always heard everything, and she was almost as bad as Mrs. Pierce. It just didn't make any sense. I hadn't even seen her all day. Assuming that there still was a Miss Lynn ...

I was glad my parents had gotten me a private bathroom. They thought it was easier on me being so small and so new. Just then, I was just glad it was closer.

 
 

 
 

     I missed the only other class I had that morning, but I didn't really care. I'd composed myself better, but I was sure I didn't look very good, so kids mostly just left me to myself. Some of the talk that afternoon had to do with the three of us having to wear skirts that night. Most of the rest had to do with the orgy of cheerleaders from the local college, who had to be removed by the police for trespassing, lewd behavior, and various improbable perverse acts of inhuman sexuality.

Neither discussion helped my stomach. Dinner didn't either, and I turned my tray in untouched. I don't think I breathed until I timidly crept into the theater that evening, and walked toward the stage. I was half way there, when Miss Lynn walked in the door behind me.

“Chris, there you are. I've taken the liberty of picking out… My god, Chris. Are you feeling okay?”

I could only shake my head. I didn't know if I were going to be sick again or cry because I'd been so afraid she wouldn't show.

“I see you've heard.”

I didn't have to nod.

“Come on, We have to talk…” She said taking me by the shoulder, and steering me toward the stage and the dressing room.

We'd only just made it as far as the stage, when Freddie came jogging in.

“Miss Lynn! Hey, Ginger. I'm sorry Ma'am, but Mrs. Pierce said I was going to have the nicest green burial shroud if I didn't have that CD in the player by the time the assembly was to start. I looked for it but I couldn't find it. Did you give it to someone else? That burial shroud thing sounded pretty final.”

Miss Lynn looked at me helplessly.

Wordlessly, I took the bundle of long skirts she had over her arm, and the packaged slip from the mall, and turned toward the dressing rooms while they went off in search for the holy CD of Antioch. I assume on the part of Miss Lynn, it was so that we could then have the privacy to talk as soon as possible.

I changed first into the things that I'd bought with me, before putting on the slip and the skirt. I'd made sure to bring the tights so that I could find the shoes to lift the skirt off the floor, and I did so easily enough. I was ready for her well before they stopped looking, no doubt aided by the practice I'd had all weekend. Thus, I was distracted only by the swirl of the skirts around my lower half as I moved about, while waiting for Miss Lynn and Freddie to find the CD that had been in the player all along.

Unfortunately, by the time he went running up the center aisle, skirt swirling like one Miss Scarlet O'Hara, sure enough, some of the newly enthused members of our group had already begun to arrive.

Miss Lynn was beside me again as we watched them come, and whispering. “That one looks nice, Chris. Are you sure you want to do this?”

I had to think about it only because my stomach hurt, but when I looked at her, I told her that I could.

“I'll be alright, Miss Lynn. I think I got some leftover turkey paddies from Thanksgiving this morning. I wish they'd go back to the devil's own pork.” I shrugged.

“I'll bet.” She muttered. “We'll talk after… Okay, you guys move the table out, and line up. We want to get through a couple of things before we all get together.”

“Hey, Chris. Nice dress.”

“Louie that's a skirt, dude.”

“Yeah, but I was trying to skirt the issue.”

Miss Lynn had a lot of patience “Guys! Just get the table before I tell Mrs. Pierce how badly you need comedy lessons too.”

Three guys lined up around the table that I could easily have moved myself with one finger. “Now, gentlemen," Louie said. "Just like we've practiced. All together now… And a... One, Two, Three. One Two three...”

Poor Miss Lynn. I was still too ill to care. “I hope you guys do better than that at the dance, or the tables there are in real trouble. Now, are there any questions that you need to…”

Later, with the whole group together, we had mostly just to sit and listen. It didn't matter that it was all the stuff we'd already gone over, but Freddie and Mrs. Pierce did demonstrate some greetings, before she called my name asking me to choose a partner to demonstrate a few of the waltz steps.

It was almost a relief, because the greetings they wanted us to use just sounded like a sneaky form of contraception they were trying to trick us into. ‘I beg your pardon miss, but would you allow me to inform you that I’m a terminal virgin, and may I escort you to the middle of the dance floor, so that everyone can see you laugh at me properly… properly laughing at me?' I’d stick with my ‘Ewe you almost as pur’dy as my cus’un Bobby Sue’ line. Lower virginity potential.

I stood up okay, but when I turned around I could only stare at the mass of grinning faces, and I guess I froze.

“Excuse me, Miss Morgan. I know we've not been formally introduced, but if I may impose, that is to say, may I have this dance?”

Tom Anders was somehow already behind me, grinning just like all the rest, but unlike them, he was holding out his hand in a most gentlemanly style. My weak smile and sigh of relief nearly got me the female lead in the Spring play, but only because they thought I was acting. For reasons known only to the fates, I dropped a much more graceful curtsey than Mrs. Pierce had been able to produce, and replied in my best Southern Belle: “Why Captain Anders. I would be so delighted…”

It took a while to get everyone settled after that, but after we demonstrated things a couple of times, Tom and I, I didn't need to listen anymore, except for the announcements at the end. The girls' school was sending over several of their own teachers to view our preparations sometime the next day. They also reminded us that there was an honest to 'God' college scout coming to look at two of our soccer players tomorrow, Tom being the majority interest, he was so good.

Mrs. Pierce and Mrs. Laurie grabbed Miss Lynn right after the class, of course. I saw her mouth that she was sorry, but it only made me want to cry.

I had to get out of there, so I grabbed my pile of skirts and things, and began my close examination of the floor between the gymnasium and my bed.

“Chris?” I felt Tom's hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay? Your face was looking about as green as Freddie's skirt there.”

Looking up at him made me feel worse, so even though it probably did nothing to convince him, I told his feet the breakfast story.

One of the others butted in before I could even finish that. “Aaawww. Go on Chris, You can kiss him goodnight. This is, what… like your third date or something?”

Tom pushed past me, trying to get to him in the crowd, but I don't think he did. He was laughing too hard.

Back in my room, I hung the skirts as best I could on my closet door, and sat down in front of my computer. I was going to write a note to my mother and father, begging them to let me come home. If they would put a call into the headmaster, he could give me my passport in an hour, and I could be on a plane tomorrow morning.

I couldn't do it. Going whining to them was no better than riding it out here, I supposed, but I'd sure rather be with them right now.

I opened the drawer to my desk, and took out the mascara again from where I'd been playing with it over the weekend. I also picked up the toilet water too, which I sprayed on myself. Then looking at my small mirror, began to carefully apply the mascara on my lashes, letting it dry a little, before applying another coat.

They were right in that article, which suggested a girl should always wear mascara, even if she wore nothing else.

I was still sitting there, and on my third coat, when my phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Chris?”

For an instant, I thought it was my mother.

“Mmm. Mmm…”

“Chris, It's me, Miss Lynn. I'm so sorry Chris. It's a little late now, but I promise you we can talk tomorrow. I have plans to meet someone this evening in town and I can't break them. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay. I'm fine”

“You didn't look fine. Can you tell me what's going on?”

“Did you hear the rumor?”

“About the girl I drove home?”

“No, Ma'am, the one about the new regulations for lobster fisherman.”

“Chris!” I heard her gasp.

“I'm sorry, Miss Lynn. I haven't been feeling well.”

“Chris, you are not yourself. What are you doing, perhaps I should call the nurse?”

“I was trying on the mascara again.”

“That explains not getting the makeup remover back. Chris, it really is too late for me to come over to talk, unless you are sick. Tell me honestly, please, are you okay, or do I need to bring the nurse?”

“I'm okay.”

“Well, if you are, then I want you to go to bed, and I'll find you in the morning. It shouldn't be hard.” A soft chuckle came from the phone.

“Ma'am?”

“Chris, weren't you even listening? Are you sure you don't need me to come?”

“No, Ma'am. I'm fine, really.”

“Well, remember that Mrs. Pierce had no idea what time the delegation from Saint Mary's will be here, so she asked if her three ladies could just follow Freddie's lead, and be ready when she calls. She wanted you guys to wear the skirts.”

“I will.”

“Well, don't worry about it. Freddie was running up the hall singing 'Where the Boys Are', tonight. I think he made about two hundred-dollars today. He's making double what I do. We may never get him out of that thing. No one will notice you at all, unless you set your hair on fire.”

“Thank you, Ma'am”

“Good night, Chris.”

“Night, Miss Lynn.”

I stretched out without even taking anything off, except my shoes. The lovely smell of my cologne filled my head the moment I closed my eyes. That night, the dreams were not as pretty as the night's before, because several times I dreamed I was being chased endlessly around the halls of the school by Mrs. Pierce, the Headmaster, Freddie, and even Miss Lynn.

All of them kept shouting the oddest thing at me. “There she is! There she is!”

 
 

 
 

     I woke the next morning, well before my alarm went off.

It was early enough that the grey light of the dawn still had more in common with a cold fog hugging the ground, than with the brighter light that would shine later in the day.

I felt rested, and my mind felt very still and quiet, so I just lay there for several minutes, trying to invent a reason to get up.

The dreams were still fresh in my mind from having been awakened by them several times that night. They had been so odd, with their composition of endless hallways, each odd or strange, and at the same time completely familiar. There were other queer little hallways jumping from one part of the campus to another that looked as if they belonged but which, of course, never could have and which, in the dream, were always just sufficient in number to keep me ahead of the hue and cry.

I snorted softly as I whispered “hutesium et clamor” Professor Tam would be proud, I thought, as I looked at the clock. I now dreamed in Latin.

Half past six.

Sitting up, I pulled my skirt from under my legs, and stood to walk to the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. It was the eyes, of course. I'd done a little damage to the mascara, but all in all, they were remarkably intact; which along with the fact that I felt so wide-awake, meant that I'd actually slept sounder than the dreams would indicate.

Looking more closely, I realized why the eyes looked so familiar to me. I'd seen them looking like this in my dreams more times than I could count. I'd just never seen them this close before. Now they were right in front of me, right there in the mirror.

Perhaps a bath. I love very hot baths. I love to just sit and relax, and let my mind go. Sometimes I don't think about anything at all in steaming water, so it was some time before I reached for the soap, and began to wash by holding my face in the hot cloth…

 
 

I took the pink panties off the shower rod, and slipped them on before pulling on the tights. I only had the three pairs, so I'd had to wash them on Sunday. The long slip was next, which turned out to be very pretty with decorative stitching around the bodice; above the full shiny slip it looked like a dress all by itself, and it was much heavier than the one with the elastic waist.

Moving to my closet door, I chose the long black skirt because it was on top, and tried to slip into it before I realized that I had to drop it over the slip. The waist was a little loose, but tugging down on it proved that it wouldn't slip beyond my hips, so it must have been the silky material that made it feel that way.

I began putting on one of my white uniform oxford shirts, while catching little glimpses of the long mirror that lay mostly hidden under the bundle of skirts. I lifted them out of the way, a little, before I just moved their hanger to the front side of the door so that I could look again.

I looked for a long time, and the more I did, the more my stomach began to feel like it had the night before. It looked like a pile of dirty laundry waiting for the wash.

The eyes were all wrong too.

Some months before, I'd read another in the endless string of articles printed out from ‘Seventeen’ or ‘Cosmo girl.’ I'd seen the same advice before, but this one said that, even if your school dress code didn't allow visible makeup, a girl should always wear a smudge-proof mascara. I remembered it well, because of how the article went on about how cute, and fresh you could look without it's being too obvious why.

The pink blouse and short grey skirt were still hanging right there in the closet in front of me, only inches away.

Pulling off the shirt and hanging it on the knob, I reached for the blouse. I had trouble getting the little button at the top of the blouse. My fingers were not working very well. Although, finally, I was able to take a deep breath and steady them, and the blouse was soon slipping up my arm. I had to look down to fix the buttons because they felt strange somehow.

Stepping back, my eyes rose once more to the long mirror. The sickness was fading, but the butterflies were back. I wasn't sure about the color being so much brighter. They looked nice together, to me, but I just didn't know. I really didn't want to look foolish.

I watched as I tucked the blouse in, but quickly decided that the straight bottom of the blouse looked much better on top of the skirt, but it needed…

Hanging in the closet were several black belts, but being small myself, not to mention being a boy, all of them were too small too. There were dress belts that were just wrong, and several casual belts. My widest was well worn, and a brown color. I remembered also two woven black belts for jeans that had come on some pants that had been bought for me to 'knock around in' and, on impulse, I pulled the black one out and wrapped it around the blouse above my waist.

The blouse looked much better now, but the belt was still too small. Then, inspired, I pulled the second woven belt out even though I realized it was actually a very dark brown. I hooked it into the tail of the first to make one long belt and looped it loosely above the other.

“There.” I said, looking between the belts, and my face in the long mirror. It was only the matter of a moment to pull the buckles closer together, and pull the free tail through to hang down. The contrasting colors actually looked nice, and gave texture.

In another inspiration, I went to the small letterbox I kept in my desk drawer, and pulled out one of my most priceless possessions, the small heart locket that had been my mother's. It had a picture of she and dad when she was very pregnant with me. She'd taken it off her own neck to slip it on me when they first dropped me off here, but I had to push those thoughts away quickly as I padded back to the mirror.

Just so. Even better. Perfect.

The little glint of gold, closely matched the brassy color of the buckles below. Finally, beneath where the blouse had hung, the pink ribbon lay over the waist of the short grey skirt still hanging in the closet. Slipping it free, I moved toward the bathroom mirror, and the brush.

Brushing my hair to look more like it had on Friday turned out to be much easier than I'd imagined with the aid of a little water in the front. Tying the bow was much harder but I'd finally gotten it to look even.

Walking out toward my desk I could see that it was seven fifty and breakfast was being served for any who wanted it but I didn't feel up to going just then. I knew that the cooks were very good to those who missed breakfast, and always had some fruit, or toast, or bagel handy for a starving kid. If need be, I'd swing in there later.

I had Western at nine, so I pulled that book from the stack, to slip out the paper I'd done on Saturday. After looking it over for fifteen minutes, I realized that the only thing that I'd accomplished was to draw a little heart shape just like the locket above the 'i' in Chris. If anyone had found out anything new about William the Conqueror over the weekend, they'd just have to catch me up on it later in the week.

The locket was warm now, in my hand, not at all like the cold metal had felt lying in the box. “I miss you, guys. So much.” I whispered, knowing they couldn't hear.

Try as I might, I just couldn't push the feelings away this time. I did miss them. Had they been on the same continent, I'd have been very tempted to grab my card and head for them, but they had always expected me to be strong. I needed to be strong, especially now, my father had said so to me many times.

What stupid advice to give a kid, I thought as my eyes blurred over completely. Kids don't' need to be strong. They need a family.

The washcloth was there, and fortunately my eyes were only a little red. No one would notice. Even though most of the cosmetics were still in the package they'd come in, the tube of lipstick was sitting there with the clear face powder.

A small voice inside said 'what are you doing?' but I ignored it as I padded over to the desk to get the mascara. By then, my mind was very quiet again as I watched my lashes darken and grow longer in the mirror. The colorless face powder looked very nice too, even though I'd been too unsure to use more than the tiniest bit on my forehead nose and cheeks.

In the package, there was also a pale pink gloss, almost colorless, but I really liked the smell of it, as I covered the dullness, where the powder had gotten on my lips.

I looked for a long time, before I said 'There' to the mirror, and walked out to slip on the shoes that I'd worn on Friday, and to collect my books from the desk.

The knob of the door felt even colder than the locket had, I noticed, but I was only going to hold that for the shortest of times. I picked up the little black wallet, where it hung by its strap, the one that still had all my things, and slipped my calculator and some pens and other things into it as well, before slipping it over my shoulder. I'd almost taken the cell phone too, so that I could try to reach Dad around our noon, or his quitting time there, but again I decided not to without any real reason.

The thunderous bang of the door swinging closed behind me was, I was sure, loud enough to have woken any of the dead who might have been lucky enough to be able to sleep so late on a Tuesday. Although no one slept late on Tuesdays at Saint Andrews, even the dead.

I took very deep breath, and then another, as I steadily built my momentum toward the stairs…

 
 

 
 

     “What, the…”

“Man! There's another one!"

"Do you think it's dangerous?” Smitty asked, at the bottom of the stairs.

“I don't think so, because Mr. Tingsdale said they only attack if they smell money in the water.”

“Are you sure? It doesn't look very safe to me.”

“Well you stay here then. I'm going to ask her if she tutors like Freddie.”

“Are you nuts?”

“Am I? Who would you rather dance with? Freddie?”

“Hey Chris! Wait up a minute!”

 
 
 

Then…

“I think it’s someone's sister… Holy crap! Chris?”

 
 
 

As I came round the corner to into the main hallway, I could see Tom standing outside the Admin area. It looked like he was coming out of the conference room with a tall thin man in a suit, and slightly smaller man with very grey hair, and a collar.

Poor Tom looked like he wanted to make a run for it. These must be the college scouts from down south. It looked bad, but what was really scary was Mrs. Pierce, who had her back turned to them where she stood fussing with a bulletin board. Only, from the look on her face, she was not fussing with the bulletin board at all, and was listening as the man in the suit continued to talk to Tom.

“… We have other advantages too, son. You won't find a better place anywhere for providing the strong moral direction that every young person needs to be successful…”

I thought Mrs. Pierce looked like she'd just swallowed her tongue. I'd seen her mad, but I never saw her look like she'd swallowed her tongue. I instinctively moved toward the far wall, mistakenly thinking I might hide, but despite my slowness, Tom’s eyes flicked towards me.

Mrs. Pierce was smiling when she turned to greet the men, which scared me so bad, I stopped dead in my tracks in preparation of pressing my back to the wall.

“Ah! There you are gentlemen.” She said cheerfully. “I trust you enjoyed meeting Mr. Anders. I hope you all enjoyed a little talk.”

Grey hair started to speak. “Well not so much really. Despite the fact that I've told this fine young man that our student population is better than three-quarters female…” He smiled, but Mrs. Pierce did not, which made him back pedal damned quick. “Aaah. And also that we feel the Southern Baptist Bible College is the finest place for a young man such as Tom to develop the kind of moral fi…”

The man in the suit saw her face too, because he broke in “Aaah, and when Tom here told us he wanted to go on to be an evolutionary biologist, I explained that the lectures on creationism and intelligent design in our biology department have been used to train speakers from all ov…”

Someone screamed inside my head: 'Jesus Christ on a pogo stick!'

My back was not even fully against the wall, before I saw Mrs. Pierce interrupt an adult for the first time… ever. I only wish someone else had been there to see it, but hall had already cleared faster than the main street at noon in Tombstone Arizona.

Mrs. Pierce made the same sound a glacier does, just before it starts popping and cracking to calve… “And how exquisitely compelling that must have been for him too, gentlemen.” The sound of a million metric tonnes of ice falling toward them froze both men's feet solidly in place, leaving them to bob helplessly in the frigid ventilator's downdraft like a pair of errant Macy's Day parade balloons caught on a lamppost.

“I can't tell you how disappointed our board of governors will be to hear that. We've never had an alumnus of Saint Andrews school attend the Southern Baptist Bible College, as we informed you in our letters. Perhaps, we'll be more fortunate next year?”

The Collar began to puff up visibly before I could scream for him to get away, but it was just too late. Mindless suicide.

“We'd hoped you'd help us explain that our university provides a moral footing for all our students…”

“So. I. Heard.” The cracking and popping were thunderous in the surrounding pristine silence.

Mrs. Pierce was no longer smiling, and Tom looked like a man realizing he suddenly wanted to edge closer to the window, but who had also just found his feet were stuck fast to the floor as well. His eyes were bulging, and I wanted to help him, but I was stuck to the wall like one of Professor Farthing's countless cockroaches.

Mrs. Pierce took two deep breaths, before the muscles along her jaw relaxed enough for her to speak.

Too late for them to run for their lives. It looked like it would be quite a splash!

“Perhaps it might be beneficial for you gentlemen if I were to explain to you that the schools to which most of our students graduate are those that they themselves choose to further their life's interests and future careers.

"We have been very successful in this, as counted amongst our various graduating classes over the last hundred and eighteen years, have been several Nobel laureates, literally hundreds of eminently successful doctors and lawyers, and captains of any industry you might care to name. Most of whom were first accepted quite readily at schools whose standards rank amongst the highest in the world. Many of these institutions of advanced learning will not even consider an application without a proven track record of steady academic excellence, and an least two SAT scores of fifteen-hundred and fifty, or better.

"I can also assure you, that each and every one of these schools gives very special consideration to any student benefiting from our preparatory programs.

"Now, if I recall correctly, your standards for admission are six-fifty to seven hundred?”

The Suit sounded a little hoarse. “Well… we feel that the broader mix of all students, irregardless…”

“I. Am. Sure. You. Do. Doctor Embry. However, amongst the hundreds of captains of industry, and countless other notable alumni we have graduated from this institution, there have always been those few who preferred to direct their lives toward less notable careers than say, Secretaries and Ministers of our governments, or Presidents of these United States. Some write Broadway plays, or administer foundations that help the less fortunate. We always encourage students to find their own paths to contribute to this world in the way they feel most useful.”

Her smile was more that of a hungry lioness tasting the air through her teeth now. It wouldn't be long… or take long.

Please make me invisible. Please make me invisible…

“Re-gard-less… of their widely diverse preferences, Doctor Embry and Reverend Watts, the one area that has never given me a moment’s pause, about any of our young men, was the consideration of their moral character.

"Our students have not only been the contributors to improvements in the human condition over the past hundred and eighteen years, without regard to the fields they chose from medicine to food production, but during the more unfortunate years that this country has been at war, we have graduated more students who have gone on to serve with great distinction in our armed services than any other preparatory school our size.

"In fact, during the years of forty to forty-five, I recall, the only other schools in this entire nation that could claim of its graduates to have won more awards for personal valor and heroism were your own Citadel, and the Virginia military institute. I can assure you, however, that our boys lacked nothing in the quality of those awards, and in numbers they were only a handful behind the gallant men from those much larger schools.

"So you see, Gentlemen, you don't need to worry yourselves about the moral development of any student here. Or if you do, I suggest you might find it more than instructive if you were make yourself an appointment with either our current Supreme Court's Chief Justice, or the current President of the United States Senate, as I'm sure that either of those distinguished alumni will have a unique perspective regarding your concerns.”

“… I did not mean to imply…” The Suit, I believe Embry, started the rally, only to be tagged by Watts The Collar:

“Mrs. Pierce. Our organization is affiliated with over seven hundred Baptist ministries from all over this country, representing tens of thousands…”

I could see them turning to salt pillars right there on the barren wind swept shores of the main office. My eyes. Take my eyes. Please… I couldn't look away. They just didn't know that it would be better to try and punch Miss Lynn than to fence mindlessly with Mrs. Pierce. Doctors can sew limbs back on.

“Seven Hundred.” Mrs. Pierce said. “Seven Hundred?" She asked.

The fool actually nodded.

She raised her voice to call down the hall. “Mr. Walton? Are you still there around the corner?”

“Oh,uh, Yes Ma'am. I'm right here, Ma'am.”

“Have you ever told a lie?”

“Aaah. Not to you, Ma'am.”

“I believe you, Mr. Walton.”

She actually smiled at him, but it was like a whole different species of smile. It kind of glowed…

“How many independent business units are there in your family business now, Mr. Walton?”

“Ah Hum. I'm really not sure Ma'am, but I think if you count the ones in China and South and Central America… Europe… Ma'am I'd guess a little over five thousand under the family name, but there's lots more if you count other named stores.”

“Five thousand?” She sought confirmation.

“Yes Ma'am”

“And how many people do they employ, including Christians, Muslims, and Buddhists?”

“Ma'am?”

“How many employees, Mr. Walton?”

“I don't think anyone knows, Ma'am. Millions. That's why I want to be a neurosurgeon Ma'am.”

“Millions?” She asked.

Sam tried to back away now, perhaps feeling a draft at his back that somehow indicated a way out to him. “Yes Ma'am. I'm sorry to have bothered…”

“That's all right, Mr. Walton. I expected to see you today. Your application to Harvard University did come in. I've given it to Doctor Farthing, Sam, because he's an Alumnus, and he'll be writing your recommendation. When he gives it back with his letter we'll go over it together.”

She smiled that kindly smile again, at Sam.

“Thank you, Ma'am” Sam said, now doing the backstroke at a near record pace.

"Thank you, Sam." She replied, the kindness of her smile growing even greater, if that were possible.

A smile which once more morphed itself into something predatory and inhuman in the short time it took for her eyes to flick back to them…

… And in the eyes of the Lord, as he beheld them flopping there helplessly, they were much deflated… so sayeth the Second book of Pierce, Chronicle Three, in The Epistle to the Idiots.

“Chris.” Tom gurgled or choked, I'm not sure which, but I understood him. Of course, it was only because my eyes were already fixed by the horror on his face when his lips moved, and from that I somehow knew he called my name.

Tom cleared his throat, and said it again, the ass. “Chris. I'd like you meet Doctor Embry, the head of athletics at the Baptist Bible College, and their pastor, Reverend Doctor Watts…”

I got it. His Excellency, President for life, Field Marshal, El Hadji, Doctor, Idi Amin Dada. Most impressive.

On the other hand, Tom had saved my bacon only yesterday so, somehow, I found the courage to smile from within the rising tide of terror and discomfort that flowed from his eyes. I wanted to hit him in the face with my book.

My feet were able to slide but wouldn't lift from the floor as I was drawn in closer to hold out my hand which, because of my nearness to unconscious oblivion, was held out palm down due to the lack of muscular strength and coordination that it would have taken to turn it sideways.

“Gentlemen.” Tom said, “Chris Morgan. His family owns Morgan International Limited.”

“How do you do, Miss.” Suit said, taking my hand gently, rubbing my fingers, as in a dish detergent commercial.

“Sir. Reverend.” I said to each in turn, with a small bob of my head and body that just snuck up on me from somewhere.

Collar Watts said, “I was under the impression that this was an all girls' … I mean an all boys’ school.”

“It is.” Mrs. Pierce said but I swear her eyes never even flicked toward me. I did not even think she really knew I was there. “Mr. Morgan has been a student here for two and a half years and we are all quite proud of the record of his achievements thus far.”

They were both looking at me now, as if my hair-ribbon was lighted up and spinning at trans-sonic speeds.

“Yes.” Tom said, clearly still in a mindless panic. “Chris and I were roommates for his first two years.”

Mrs. Pierce’s eyes only narrowed and slid about halfway from The Collar to Tom, but I'd seen it. Even if that wasn't enough to give it away, I definitely saw the muscles along her jaw bunch up again.

You poor dumb bastard, I thought. You poor dumb bastard. All you had to do was to keep your mouth shut, man. Now telling a lie, right in front of her, after that speech… Enjoy the lecture pal. Pierce, forgive him, he knows not what he does.

The last kid who'd done that, they had to bury. Twice! I swear, her eyes never moved again. Never. Even as she spoke of me once more.

“Mr. Morgan has been kind enough to complement our own staff in giving lessons in ballroom dancing and deportment to some of our students. You look perfectly lovely today, Chris.” She said, the timbre of her voice fixed on even.

She wasn’t even blinking!

“Thank you, Ma'am”

I'm not sure who's blush would reach our ears first, but neither I nor the other pair could turn our eyes from looking back and forth at each other, and it was a very close race: Mine, The Suit's, or the good Reverend Field Marshal Doctor Watts. It was anybody’s race.

But then, Mrs. Pierce, in an unexpected stroke of humanity, which she had been known to use from time to time to deny those prey whom she hunted purely for sport any sense of balance, waved the checkered flag early.

“Tom, why don't you take these gentlemen to see Colonel Atkinson. Forgive me, you know him as Coach Atkinson or Doctor Atkinson, the head of our intramural sports programs here. I am sure he is very anxious to see them.”

“Yes Ma'am.” Tom said to her, before he spoke to me again. “Chris, will you save the first dance for me tonight?”

We have a winner! Even with their vast advantage in years and experience, I'm quite sure that neither of those men had ever reached my current level of neon before. Fortunately, and what I did not know, was the face powder was hiding most of it.

“My pleasure, Tom.” I said, as my autonomic nervous system did that stupid curtsey thing again.

“Ma'am…”

Oh God, she was smiling the human smile and looking right at me! She'd seen me... Wait a minute. She loved it. This one she loved?

“…If you'll excuse…” I was inching my way through the ice shards as quickly as I politely could.

“Of course, Chris. If Doctor Thompson has any problems, you may tell him you were helping me.”

“Thank you, Ma'am.” I said turning to go. I realized that the bell must have rung, but at the time I'd thought that ringing sound had been inside my head.

“And Chris…”

“Yes Ma'am?”

“You smell every bit as lovely as you look.”

“Thank You, Ma…” I said turning.

I had turned quickly, for fear of rudely leaving my back to her while I expressed my genuine appreciation, but she was already gone, leaving only a few notices drifting down from the bulletin board, and the startled visitors. Unfortunate for them to have witnessed her powers so closely. Their bobbing and weaving, an almost shell shocked stagger, already bode that Tom was probably going to have to hold their hands to even get them through the doors successfully.

 
 

 
 

     I was almost to Doctor Hammond's door, when I saw Freddie coming down the hall toward me in the same skirt, and the same flower in his hair, but from which was hanging a small pink pennant ribbon that said “Love for Sale.”

Jesus. And people thought I'd freaked.

“Hey, You cutting on my shtick, Sweetheart?” He asked me from well down the hall.

Just then, another kid, accompanied by three friends, came running up and knelt in front of Freddie, holding up some plastic flowers and the pop-top off of a can.

Freddie didn't smile either.

“Mack, I told you already. You pay just like everyone else, but cash only this time. No credit. If you ask me again, I will start charging you a hundred per hour, plus twenty for the room. What kind of a girl do you think I am? I may be easy, but I'm not cheap.

"Now! Chris? Chris?”

 
 

 
 

     I didn't even look back at Freddie as I slipped silently through the door to Doctor Hammond's classroom.

Fortunately he had his back turned while he adjusted a window blind, allowing me to glide quickly but silently toward my chair.

“… and many of you failed to grasp… Good Afternoon, Mister Morgan… the significance of Norman technical innovations …”

He froze as soon as he began to turn. He'd caught me just as I carefully reached back for some of the excess material on my skirt, and delicately began to slip into my seat…

“Mister Morgan.” He said again, as if memorizing my name for the very first time.

I stood quickly, letting my skirt fall free. “Please excuse me, Professor. Good Morning, Sir. My tardiness was rude, and I apologize, but I was unavoidably detained while… entertaining two of the school's guests with Mrs. Pierce.”

I slowly gathered my skirt again, and slipped into my seat as gracefully as possible. Quite a feat for someone who had not breathed since entering the room.

His eyes measured me from my head to my feet, and back again.

“Entertaining? Indeed. It would seem that our entertainments have improved of late. I was not aware.”

The connotation, partially signaled by the semaphore of his brows, had sent my blush into the far infrared, but I only nodded politely. No matter what else happened, I was going back to my room for the small facial powder compact as soon as the bell sounded.

Still without any air in my lungs at all, I groaned “I was very much looking forward to your explanations of the Norman invention of the stirrup, Sir.”

“I see.” He still stared at me.

“… The technologies that the Normans brought with them played a pivotal roll that is only now coming to light, but given the state of the military art at that…”

It was so much more than weird. For the rest of that hour no matter what he said, or read. No matter where he moved in the room, or to whomever else he might have been speaking at any given moment, his black beady eyes never left my face. Even when he turned his back to write on the board, I could see them staring back at me from inside his head. It was like some demented hologram hung in a portrait gallery with the sole purpose to separate out those poor souls most genetically predisposed to hysterical psychoses.

It worked, too. They had to shake me well after the bell had sounded.

 
 

 
 

     There had been a compact in the bag with the box of face powder I'd purchased. I'd found it along with about a dozen complementary gifts that the girls at the mall had shoveled into my bags. Sponges, emery boards, a little chain with some kind of crystal, wrapped around some nail polish of the same color.

But it was the retrieving of the compact, along with the mistake I'd made wandering into the lunchroom, that had almost made me late for Professor Otto's Math class too.

The ladies in the dining room, on seeing my flush, and how close I was to fainting, had insisted I sit and have juice and a whole half bagel before they would let me up. They even brought me an egg, which I had to eat at least part of very quickly while explaining my outfit to the accompaniment of their approving chorus of the 'Ooos' and 'Aaahs.'

I had just made it to math under the bell, and was walking to my seat while trying to return as many stares as possible with the students already there, when Professor Otto startled me badly by saying “Here.” right in my ear.

In his hand was a note card, on which I read. 'Please, ask Mr. Morgan to report to the Headmaster's office immediately. M.P.”

It wasn't that I was the only one in a skirt anymore. It was more that I was the only one not looking at my back as I quietly walked out of the room.

 
 

 
 

My very special thanks to Geoff for his invaluable time and advice.

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

 
 

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Chapter V

 
 
 

     “Doctor Pope?” The admin said, pressing the intercom button on her phone.

“Yes, Miss Lindsay?”

“Miss, I mean, err… Sorry sir. Mister Morgan is here.”

The door to the head master's office opened less than a second later, and before any other sound came from the phone on Miss Lindsay's desk. Mrs. Pierce popped her head out of the headmaster's door.

“Chris. Thank you for coming so quickly. Would you come in, please.”

I left my things on the admin's desk, at her kind direction, and taking only the small purse, I crossed my hands in front of me and walked through the door.

The headmaster was digging in a file, so he had his back turned, as I entered.

“Headmaster?” I asked quietly as soon as I reached a spot three feet in front of his desk.

Miss Lynn was rising from a chair at the small conference table in the corner of the heads office, which was as large and as lavishly appointed as you would expect of one of New England's oldest and most prestigious preparatory schools.

I was a little comforted by the fact that she seemed to be mostly staring at me for the way that I was dressed, but her eyes had that flat dullness that couldn't make me feel anything but sick.

“Ah, Mr. Morgan. Thank you for coming so quickly, I…”

It looked like everyone was going to do that very thing today, I thought.

“Excuse me, Mr. Morgan. I was of course told how enthusiastically you've thrown yourself into Mrs. Pierce's dance preparations, but seeing it is yet another thing entirely. You've outdone yourself.”

“I'm sorry, Headmaster. I didn't mean to startle anyone.”

The carpet suddenly felt much deeper and much spongier to me than it had as I'd walked in.

“It would seem that after having done the same to several members of my staff, you at least, would be used to it. However, I can see that you look at least as startled as everyone else. Relax Chris. Have a seat. Miss Lynn, if you'd excuse us?”

“She can stay, Sir.” I wanted her there.

“No she can't, Chris.” Mrs. Pierce said, as Miss Lynn closed the door on her way out.

He grimaced, somewhat sympathetically, toward me as I walked to one of the red leather chairs in front of his desk, and gingerly gathered my skirt again before sliding the minimal area of my rear onto the edge of the seat. None of these people had ever called me 'Chris' so much, in the entire time I'd been here and every time they did so now made it feel like my knees might give way. I felt as if I were a patient whose doctor suddenly became far too kind and considerate.

“Well! As I was about to say, I've called you here because…”

At that moment, Doctor Cross chose to enter. He was a younger dark-haired man who I'd only met briefly before.

“Sorry, Headmaster.” he said, much as I had, as soon as he entered. “I came as soon as I got your message.” He greeted each of us in turn with at least a brief murmur or nod as well.

“Well,” the Head began again, I hoped for the last time, “there are several reasons why I called you in today, Chris, but first I have to ask a question that might seem a bit personal, and for that I apologize in advance.”

I nodded to let him know I was ready, which of course I wasn't.

“Miss Lynn has told us that you were notified by your parents this past Friday that you'll be spending Christmas here with us again?”

It was like a sucker punch to the stomach! On Friday afternoon I'd have been expecting it, but now, I'd never seen it coming and all I could do was exercise my jaw helplessly.

'Jesus', I thought, and for the first time it was a only a prayer. Please don't cry. I'll cry tonight in my room but please just don't cry now.

Dr. Pope didn't see the need to wait for me.

“It's alright. I can see the answer in your face, Chris, and must tell you how very sorry I am to hear of it. I'd like to ask if you are all right but you've answered that question quite plainly as well.

"We all understand that these things sometimes happen, and it is one of the services this school provides to its patrons, to create as much of a homelike atmosphere as we possibly can for the young men entrusted to our care. More than that, though, I wanted you to know that you are always welcome here.

"On the other hand, given that this is the… third?” he looked in Mrs. Pierce's direction for a moment, “year in a row, I hope you'll understand that I fully intend to take this up with your parents as soon as that can be arranged. Our obligations to you are simply greater than our obligations to your parents.”

I was able to nod my head this time. I did understand and, as bad as it made me feel, and, as much as I wanted to ask him to please leave it to my family, the look on his face said rather bluntly that it was already out of my hands.

I shifted the small purse off of my shoulder and held it to give them something else to do. I could only look at him.

“So you spent your first Christmas at Saint Andrew's with Mrs. Pierce and last year with Mrs. Laurie?” He made a quizzical face in her direction for a moment before looking at me again.

“Yes sir.” I had to clear my throat. “That first year Mrs. Pierce was kind enough to invite me to her home, and last year, because Mrs. Pierce was traveling, Mrs. Laurie invited me to have dinner with her family. Both their families were very, very kind to me sir.”

He smiled or grimaced under his white mustache. I could not quite tell.

“Well, Chris, unless things change of course, I would like to take this opportunity to invite you to dine with Mrs. Pope and me this Christmas. It will be just us and my eldest daughter but we would certainly love to have you. In fact, I was just noting in the summary of your record that you have never had a single disciplinary note added to your file, minor or otherwise, and that you have maintained a near four oh average in some fairly advanced course work for your age.”

“I ha… thank you, Headmaster.”

“Don't thank me, Chris. It's your record, and it has been our pleasure to have you here with us and we are very proud of the work you've done. Your instructors expect the greatest of things from you in the future and I for one would very much welcome the pleasure of getting to know you better than I have been able to these past two years. I could of course have suggested that you get into trouble a little more often instead, but I doubt if Mrs. Pierce would leave me with two good legs if I did.”

Mrs. Pierce was all smiles for some reason and speaking while she walked over to a notebook computer that lay open and flashing on top of a tall filing cabinet, where she began tapping various keys. “It is good that it has only taken you ten years to become aware of the limits of my personal patience, Headmaster.”

He never really lessened his regard of me to look at her as he replied. “I am indeed, as I'm sure my wife will also attest, who is by the way, very pleased by the prospect of our little invitation, and who is also looking forward to your visit most eagerly.”

“Thank you, Headmaster. It would be my very great pleasure to come.”

“Good.” He smiled again, before leaning back in his chair.

“I am very curious about one thing, though. Did your parents ever tell you why they were so seldom available?”

Please god. Don't let me cry.

“No sir, not really. Both notes said that they were busy and couldn't get away just now but there were no details. They did say that, although it was most unlikely that they would be able to make it, they promised to try.”

He looked as displeased as ever I'd seen him. It was how I'd always imagined he would look when dealing with a major infraction of the honor code.

He shook his head, and reached to look at something in the file, before he put it down again to stare at me. It caused me to look uncomfortably away, only to see from the corners of my eyes that all of the adults had the same expression.

“So you heard from your mother as well?”

“Yes sir. She writes to me every month, sir.”

“Well…” He folded the file closed. “I'm impressed that you neither try to make excuses for them, nor try to convince us you are abused. All I can say is, that if my lawyers had not constantly assured me over the years that leaving students here with us does not constitute child abuse, I'd file a complaint against them myself for reckless abandonment.”

I knew he meant it well by the small smile he gave me but I was only really convinced that he did not like the color of his office carpet. I felt like I might have changed it for him right then and there, but he asked me another question that took me totally by surprise.

“Chris, I'm sorry, but I have to ask. You mean to tell me that you really don't know why your mother has not come to see you? You don't need to be shy about it with us. There are some people in this room who are very fond of you, you know.”

Shit. He handed me a tissue.

“No, sir.” I had to dab my eyes carefully at the corners, but at least they cleared again. “Can you tell me anything, sir? You've obviously been told more than I have.” My voice sounded hollow, and far away, and very much younger than I thought I was.

It was his turn to look down now. No one else was looking at me either when I instinctively glanced around.

“No, Chris, I truly can't, right now. I can only promise that I will do everything in my power…”

I tried to stand up but my legs felt too shaky.

Mrs. Pierce was on me before I could turn to look at her hand on my shoulder. “Excuse me, Headmaster. Chris, have you eaten today? I just got a note from the ladies in the dining room informing me that you have been scarce around there the last few days.”

I really had no idea what to expect next. “Ye… Yes, Ma'am. Mrs. Kluge made me eat…”

Mrs. Pierce finished it for me. “Three bites of a bagel, and half an egg?”

I nodded, and so did she. When I turned back to the Headmaster he seemed to nod at Mrs. Pierce, before looking at me, which almost made me forget what I'd been about to jump up and ask.

“Sir? Do you really know why this has been happening and all the while no one's telling me?”

He just looked at me again for a long moment. “No. I really don't know the half of it, but Chris, I promise you by the time we sit down to Mrs. Pope's famous Christmas turkey, you and I both will. I can give you my word on that. Mrs. Pierce has put in two calls to your father since Miss Lynn informed us of the situation and I am sure she will put in one more the moment you leave here.”

I knew that whatever the reasons for all of this, that it certainly wasn't his fault but I couldn't even nod. They knew something that they wouldn't tell me. Everyone in this room had always been so very nice to me, even the psychologist to whom I'd only spoken once before. I really didn't understand any of this.

From behind me came “Headmaster?” Doctor Cross spoke in the lull. “May I ask a question?”

“Of course, that's why I asked you to be here even before you insisted..”

“Chris, did you go to Miss Lynn about this?”

Sure. I brought my teddy bear along with me too. I didn't bother sliding around so that he could see me, I didn't want to look at him, and so I just bowed my head.

“No sir. Miss Lynn was walking down the hallway and ran into me just after I got my mother's letter. Miss Lynn took me to her office so that I could wash my face and then walked with me to dinner to be sure I didn't just go back to my room. She was very kind.”

He still wasn't satisfied obviously.

“Chris, if Miss Lynn had not run into you just then, would you have sought her out and confided in her?”

I was really beginning to dislike them all.

“No. I wouldn't have told anyone. I'd have had to tell Mrs. Pierce this week that I would be here over the holiday break but I wouldn't have done that ‘til I had to.”

“Why?”

I turned around then. I suppose I could honestly tell him it was none of his goddamned business but I couldn't do that. I don't know why, but suddenly, all of the anger that I had been feeling for them just suddenly receded into a strange calm when I realized how dense they were.

I was stuck here. I had nowhere else to go. I took a deep breath.

“Because you can't do anything about it, Doctor Cross. Because it’s embarrassing and I didn't want anyone to know.”

He looked like he was going to say something else but I turned around before he could. I couldn't believe I'd e-mailed him on Sunday.

The headmaster held up his hand in Doctor Cross' direction, and there were no more questions.

“Chris, there is another matter I have to clear up and, although I'm still hopeful that it will be far less painful for all concerned, I'm afraid that it is potentially more serious for us than Christmas. I need your help in clearing it up as quickly as possible.”

I found myself looking him dead in the eyes just then. “My help, sir?” It came out while his features took on that same fuzziness I was constantly dealing with of late.

The headmaster just looked at me for a few moments, and even though I could have sworn I heard Mrs. Pierce grunt, I could only stare at him.

“Point taken,” he said, “but I still need your help.”

I had to lean back in the chair now, already sorry for being rude to him. “You'll have it, sir.”

“I believe I will.” He shook his head a little but he continued “There is a matter that has come to my attention, of which I need to hear your side. That’s why I asked Miss Lynn to step outside whilst we talk…”

I may be only sixteen but I'm not actually dumb. I suppose that it's not something a person can be unaware of. I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take, so I just wanted to finish it. I tried to sit up a little straighter, just as Mrs. Pierce reached over my shoulder with a cup of water.

“Thank you, Ma'am.” I said sipping, as grateful for the water as I'd been for anything in my life.

“You’re welcome, Chris.” She said patting my shoulder.

“Sir. I know what's going on. I know a little of how things work, and how things get blown out of proportion. I'm not unaware that you probably think that Miss Lynn or I might have committed ... an error in judgement. I'm very sorry if you've been given that worry.

I can tell you that she's only ever been nice to me. I didn't like the look in her eyes or the fact that you need Doctor Cross here. Besides, this whole thing feels very scary, and I believe the easiest way to fix whatever is bothering everyone is to tell you what you need to know.

I also think, that even though I am trying very hard to believe you must have some valid ethical reason for not being able to tell me what's going on with my mother and father, I have no such dilemma, sir. I just can't think of any reason why I can't answer any question you might feel the need to ask.”

I deliberately turned away from the headmaster's profoundly thoughtful face to look at the other two.

“Very well then. Would you like to tell me what happened here this past Friday night, Chris?”

“No sir.”

I thought he was going to fall out of his chair. His mouth tightened and his eyes darted around the room as if to be sure that everyone else had heard it too.

At least he did until Mrs. Pierce chuckled behind me.

“I beg your pardon, Mister Morgan?”

The anger in me was not gone, but it was ... redirected.

“You have it, sir. Please ask me any question you like, and I will answer any that you put to me as honestly and as completely as I possibly can.”

Now he really couldn't believe I said that, but Mrs. Pierce did. She snorted even more loudly behind me. The head did not look happy, and he just sat back and said nothing for a good ten seconds. He did wave Doctor Cross into silence again.

“Well, I can see that your intelligence quotient is not the anomaly that some of my people thought it was this morning. Not any of the instructors who know you best, mind you.”

When he glanced again at Mrs. Pierce, she simply said: "It's easy to forget just how very smart he is, when all you can see is how young he is, Headmaster."

The head might have nodded slightly, I wasn't sure. I didn't feel any need to respond, even if I'd known how. After all, as nice as they had been, and even though I had nowhere else to go, I couldn't help thinking that all they could do was to throw me out.

“You are very mad at me right now, aren't you, Chris?”

“I'm sorry sir, but I am. If you'd like, I probably won't be in an hour. I know this is not your fault and I never stay mad at anyone very long. Would you like to put this off till this afternoon?”

“That won't be necessary. I don't blame you for your anger. I'd feel the same. Besides, I think you are giving me some very honest answers. I'll try equally hard to accord you the same privilege wherever it doesn't violate other ethical considerations.”

I nodded again . “I'd very much appreciate that, Headmaster.”

“Chris ... I hope you don't mind my calling you by your first name? I know it's not the standard practice.”

“I don't mind, but I was beginning to feel a bit ... condemned.”

He smiled a very kindly smile then. “Look in the mirror, Chris, calling you Mister Morgan is not the most natural thing to do right now. Which brings us to the point again, finally. Did you hear the rumor about a girl on campus, Chris?”

“Yes sir. Yesterday after my first class. Fred Thomas mentioned it to me between classes.”

“Is that why you skipped your other class?”

“Yes sir, it was. I was in my room being sick to my stomach.”

“You were throwing up?”

“Yes sir, twice.”

“Why? Were you ill?”

“I not quite sure what you mean, sir, but no. I was afraid that I might have gotten Miss Lynn into trouble.”

“Did you or Miss Lynn do anything that she should be in trouble?”

“No sir, we did not.” It was hard but I made sure that my voice had not changed too much and that I didn't use any sentences with 'and' or 'but' in them.

“Chris, do you know who that girl was?”

Did I? I didn't know what was going on right now, or if Miss Lynn had even told them. Unfortunately, even if I wanted to try and lie, I couldn't see how it could possibly hold up. I'd already realized that everyone would probably find out everything before I even walked out of the theater on Friday to get something to eat. There was only about a second between the time he asked the question and my answer.

“Yes sir. I believe it was me.”

He was nice enough to nod. He had known.

“Yours was the only card key that passed the locks in that end of the building that night, Chris. Can you tell me how it was you came to be dressed so that everyone would think you were a girl?”

“Yes sir. Mrs. Pierce wanted Ginger, Ginger, and me to wear skirts so that the other guys wouldn't be ripping them off the Saint Mary's girls every time they tried to dance with them. I thought you knew.”

Mrs. Pierce laughed.

“Mildred, please.” The head said in frustration.

He sounded as pained as he had when he first addressed us about the dance. I felt sorry for him. I had been honest;I never stay angry for long.

Mrs. Pierce spoke abruptly. “Funny, Chris, but I'd advise that the simple truth is your best strategy.”

I smiled, apologetically, for the first time since I'd entered the office. “I'm sorry sir.” I sighed more loudly than I meant to and took a sip of water before I could continue.

“I helped Miss Lynn with the dancing last Friday. She showed me some of the steps and things that she expected me to help with and then we worked with our group until we were too tired. After we were done, she told me of the plan for we three surrogates to wear long skirts or dresses to help the guys.”

“How did you feel about that?” Cross asked.

The head did not look happy but he let it go.

“I don't know really. That's one of the reasons I sent you the e-mail on Sunday. I didn't exactly hate the idea. I was afraid to be singled out, though, because I'm… I was a little sensitive about it.”

Cross interrupted again. “Sir, perhaps this isn't the proper venue…”

The head didn't look happy but I answered before he could, speaking directly to the headmaster.

“Sir, I'll only tell you what I'm comfortable telling you. I really don't mind.”

The headmaster looked like he himself was torn but he only said, “Go on then.”

“Well, I know Miss Lynn was uncomfortable with it, in part because she'd roped me into helping her, and in part because I probably made her think that I was going to implode at eleven pm on December twenty-fourth,” I smiled even more weakly in apology, “but I think the biggest reason she was uncomfortable with the whole idea is because she had caught me earlier that afternoon looking through the dresses in the theater. She knew she'd hit a nerve.”

“Looking at the dresses?”

“Yes sir. I was looking for the ones I liked and holding them up in front of me in the mirror and things, to see what they would look like.”

“Because of the dance classes?”

I sighed even though I didn't want to. “Yes sir, but also because they were pretty.”

“Oh, I see.” He said looking like he wanted to change the subject. I'd always been good at knowing what people’s feelings were toward me. I hated the look of disappointment I saw in his eyes then but simply would not lie. Truth was all that I had left.

“What happened after the class?” He finally prompted.

“Well, sir, Miss Lynn gave me the choice of not doing it, but I thought it would be best just to do what would help everyone out the most. She brought me one of the dresses I had liked and helped me by telling me how to put it on.”

“Was she in the dressing room with you?” Mrs. Pierce asked, causing everyone to jump almost as much as I did.

At least, though, the question was as honest as my answers had been.

“Not when I changed, Ma'am. The dress did have about a hundred buttons on the back, I think, which she had to button for me. Later she unbuttoned them, but she did that on the stage. The only time both she and I were in the small dressing room was when we were talking in there for a couple of minutes.”

“What were you talking about?” The head asked.

“Lots of things sir, about how I had been feeling mostly but also about the dancing.”

“Did she ask you to wear makeup?” Doctor Pope asked.

“Not really. She had to help me with that at the makeup mirror, because it's not something I'm very good with and I didn't want to embarrass anyone by looking silly in the dress.”

“Had you worn makeup before?” Was Doctor Cross's follow-up.

“Yes.”

It was quiet for several breaths then.

“Did Miss Lynn suggest you go with her off campus, Chris?” The headmaster asked.

I looked him in the eye, even though the disappointment I saw there made that very, very hard. “Yes sir, she did.”

“Why did you go?” He asked.

I sighed again. “Sir, may I ask if you could possibly stop looking so disappointed.”

I had no idea where that had come from. He started to object but didn't because I didn't give him a chance.

“I'm not cracking up and I'm not some weirdo transvestite or something. Believe me, I know how strange that statement may be to you but it's true.”

“Chris, I've had a little training in dealing with people myself. They didn't just pick me off the street because there happened to be a bus stop out front. I don't think you are a transvestite. You don't look anything like one to me. If I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I'm really am only worried about you ...”

He had to think about it before he continued, but I gave him credit for keeping his promise.

“... and for some very valuable members of my staff as well.”

I smiled in appreciation of his honesty and in his eyes I could see that he understood why I had.

“So why did you go?” he continued sounding more like he was mad than concerned.

“One of the things that came up when we were talking was that my parents had given her permission to take me to go and do any Christmas shopping I might need to get done, or just to be able to get away and talk. They were right. I wanted to go.

"We'd run the practice too late to be able to get anything to eat, and she had offered earlier that if that happened, she'd take me with her on an errand she had to run to grab something. I think she was afraid I'd wind up starving until breakfast or lunch on Saturday if she didn't.”

“Did she give you the clothes you were wearing?” He asked it just the same way, but his voice sounded different to me.

“Some of them. I'd found some the stuff I needed in the dressing rooms and I think she wanted to make sure I'd be safe so she helped me.”

“You could have worn your uniform.” He was not happy and everyone knew it.

“Headmaster…” Cross tried to break in but we both ignored him.

“Yes sir. I could have worn my uniform ... again. I really had been feeling sad, though. It wouldn't have bothered anyone, but me. I really didn't want to wear the uniform just then.”

I think he understood but he was looking at Doctor Cross over my shoulder who was shifting around loudly.

“If you ask me, sir, I'll go and change when we are done.”

It really wasn't that bad a carpet, I thought suddenly, not feeling as ill as I had been because of being able to get all this off my chest but I still wasn't feeling well either and I really didn't feel like looking at them just then.

Mrs. Pierce asked. “Chris has anyone been mean to you about the way you are dressed? I'm sure I made it clear that you boys were doing this for me and for the school.”

“You mean besides Professor Hammond, ma'am? No. Not at all. Everyone's been really nice to me. Funny too.”

She sighed openly. “Well, good. I've spoken to several of the boys and no one seems to mind. I'll speak to Mr. Hammond but, if anyone does say anything, I want you to come straight to me.”

The Head spoke up then, still accompanied by noises from Doctor Cross, but he wouldn't dare to interrupt Mrs. Pierce or the Head.

“Perhaps you'd be kind enough to pass long my own recommendation for more dietary fiber to Professor Hammond.” He looked at her then. “Mildred, I understand your very good intentions in making sure the boys are as well rounded as we can make them but perhaps this thing has gone on long enough.”

I suddenly heard some idiot speaking. “Sir, I don't want to cause….”

Mrs. Pierce was on my shoulder again, as she answered him. “I'm not so sure, Headmaster but, of course, I would be happy to hear your thoughts when we are through here. For now though, not only are the ladies from Saint Mary's due here around two this afternoon, but I still fully believe there really have been no problems with the boys. I think it's only given them something to distract them from the fear of dancing.”

The head nodded that he understood.

“I would also like to point out that Chris is not only the best dancer among us but, as I told you earlier, he helped both myself and Tom Anders out of a very uncomfortable situation that I'm afraid I was handling rather badly.”

Doctor Pope actually began to chuckle. “You know how much I wish you'd sent them to me.”

I felt her squeeze my shoulder before she answered him. “I considered it, sir, and I regret missing the opportunity, but the head of our athletics and health department was a colonel of marines, sir.”

He chuckled again and she patted my shoulder before letting it go.

He looked at me and I tried to look as calm as possible but what I really wanted to do was look at Mrs. Pierce.

He was still almost smiling. “So what errand did you run and where did you go?”

“I…” I had to swallow more water. “Miss Lynn had given me a package with a long slip in it…”

“A slip?” he interrupted.

“Yes sir. It's a type of …”

“I know what a slip is, Chris. She gave you one.”

“Yes, Headmaster. She had two new ones in packages. She gave me her last one when we were trying to find a dress for the next class. You need it, because it keeps the long skirt from getting so wrapped up around your legs as you dance. No point in teaching the guys not to rip them off, if you wind up falling over it anyway. I took her last one.”

He did not look very pleased. “And did you think that wearing makeup, perfume, and a bow in your hair would make your classmates more steady on their feet?”

Cross was on his feet. “Doctor Pope, I'm sorry to interrupt sir, but I really must remind you that I need us to table this aspect of the discussion until Chris and I have talked.”

The head didn't look mad at him like I expected but he didn't look happy either. “I understand that Doctor, but you realize that this isn't the first time I've had to speak to a young man with a problem. I'm…”

Mrs. Pierce stopped them both in their tracks. “With questions, Headmaster. Chris has questions.”

“You are right, of course, Mildred. Thank you. Questions.”

She continued to everyone's surprise, “And I for one agree with Doctor Cross in his request.”

The head just nodded, surprising me again when he actually said “Thank you, Mildred." He looked back at me. “So where exactly did you go?”

“We hit the burger drive through. It was awful. And then we went straight to the mall.”

“You went into the mall?”

“Just the one big store at the end. We never went inside the mall proper. Miss Lynn told me I could stay in the car and had parked right next to the store under the light but I think that she was uncomfortable leaving me alone. I wanted to go in anyway. I needed to get some things for the classes too, and I didn't want her to have to pay for it. Once we got inside we just ... had fun”

I blushed again and he just looked at me some more. I don't think he knew what to ask.

I continued. “Well we were talking and giggling by then and I was feeling much less depressed, so I bought some things I needed.”

He looked at me again and, I swear, I heard Miss Pierce make another weird noise but, with the face that Doctor Pope was making, I couldn't tear my eyes away.

“And you spoke about?” He asked slowly.

“About me. About how I'd been feeling so lonely. About why I check out romantic stories every weekend, and read books and article reprints on makeup and fashions…'

As soon as I realized that the carpet might be due for a vacuuming, I forced my eyes back up to look at him.

“Chris, did you discuss anything of a personal nature with Miss Lynn. I will tell you in fairness she has already told us she did.”

“Yes sir, she would. She told me a little about when she was a girl and a little about her brother, so that I'd know she really understood. She told me that her biggest fear, other than for me, was that she was afraid that her experiences with him might have colored her judgment. She told me that Doctor Cross, and Mrs. Pierce, and my parents were very nice people, and that I really needed to talk with them. That's why I wrote to Doctor Cross on Sunday, and asked if I could come and talk to him about some gender questions.”

“You contacted the doctor at her request?” His tone made it clear that Miss Lynn had not shared that part of it, but it also gave me the impression that he understood that she had only done so to protect my privacy.

I nodded to him. “I contacted Doctor Cross, sir, because I wanted to, and because she thought it was a really good idea too.”

Doctor Cross spoke. “I'm sorry head master but, because Chris had asked some very specific questions in his e-mail, I didn't feel I could discuss it with you, but he did make the appointment, and he did say it was at the urging of Miss Lynn. He wrote very clearly that she had made him feel much better and had given him the courage he needed to speak with me.”

The headmaster nodded to Doctor Cross, but I think he was looking at Mrs. Pierce when he spoke. “Thank you for the corroboration doctor but I was quite comfortable taking Mr. Morgan at his word.” He leaned forward to look at me very closely then.

Much more closely and I swear he took a deep breath.

“Chris, did Miss Lynn do anything on Friday night that made you feel bad or uncomfortable. Did she coerce you into doing anything, or did any of the more personal questions that she asked you upset you in any way.”

I hoped that his leaning closer was helping him see me because I couldn't see him at all. Shit. I felt tears begin to leak onto my cheeks.

“Sir… No, sir!” I tried to dab them away with the now badly crushed Kleenex but it was too late, and the single Kleenex was too small. “Miss Lynn is like a big sister. She talks to me. My father is so busy, and when I tried to write to my mother ... but her letters were confused and distant, she doesn't really answer the questions I ask her, my dad does. Miss Lynn is the nicest…”

“Chris, I didn't…” The head said, but it really was far too late.

“I think that's all we needed to hear.” Mrs. Pierce was lifting me under my arms, whilst I fumbled with the Kleenex and the little purse.

 
 

     I didn't look at anyone as she steered me through the office. I'm sure the girls in the outer area were watching me but I didn't look up. Before I found myself all away across the common area and into Mrs. Pierce's office.

“Here, Chris.” She handed me a fresh bundle of tissues, and said. “Have a seat, Chris.”

I moved toward a chair but she steered me by my shoulders again.

“Not there, Chris. Here at my desk. I had the ladies in the dining room send you over some hot food. You can't be skipping meals like that. You should have come to me. I'm very sorry I didn't know until Amy came to me this morning. You should have come to me, Chris. Here, you need food.”

“I'm sorry, I…”

“I know, Chris.” She lifted my chin with her fingers to force me to look at her. “I know. Just remember that just because I've never hit you before, it doesn't mean that I won't if you ever do that again.”

I was helpless to hold it in any longer.

“Oh Chris…” she whispered, pulling me to her…

 
 

 
 

My very special thanks to Geoff for his invaluable time and advice.

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

 
 

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Chapter VI

 
 
 

     It was all anticlimactic. No one wore the skirts the next day. Although, as far as I know, no one told them they didn't need to. Everyone was nice enough, even if they seemed a little distant somehow. All except for Miss Lynn, who I had for two hours of chemistry that morning. She smiled like anything when she said hello, which made me feel like a weight had been lifted off my chest.

At lunch, my tray had only contained about twice as much food as I could eat. Comic amounts of food actually. A couple of the guys thought that was so funny they donated their deserts - just in case I got hungry. All were lime Jell-O, so they really weren't worth much more than the humor they could garner. It was kind of funny, I suppose.

I gave up early, and headed to the library to get some work done before my afternoon lecture but no sooner had I logged into the computer than I got the flag that I had three current messages.

The first, from Miss Lindsay, the office admin, that I had an appointment with the doctor at one. The second, from Cross, was the same message.
The third was from my dad:

Dear Chris I have gotten several calls from your teachers and the school Administrator. I am so very sorry to hear how our news has affected you. Believe me, Chris, this fault is wholly mine. Not yours, and certainly not your mother's. I can't really talk right now, because I'm on a plane on my way back to see your mother tonight. I promise, I will call you as soon as I can. Also, I've told your Mrs. Pierce basically what you told me in your last note, that we appreciate Miss Lynn being there for you, and that we expect that they will continue to allow her to take you shopping or wherever she thinks best, if you both agree. I also told the Headmaster, that if you wanted to skip the dance this Saturday, that you had our permission to do so. They are not to require you to go, unless you want to Chris. I hope you do want to, but since I can't be there with you I will back you, whatever you decide. I expect to be in a place where I will be able to call you in a few hours, right after I see your mother. I know it's hard, given what we've done, but please try to remember your mother and I love you more than anything else, so please try to hang on just a little while longer. I Love you and your mother more than anything else. Dad.

.

I looked at the screen for several minutes. Mostly because I was really surprised I wasn't crying. After everything that had happened, I just felt a little numb.

I moved the cursor to the blank part of the screen, and with one finger began to peck keys:

G E E . T H A N K S D A D .

I looked at it for a few moments with my finger over the return key, but it really wasn't the note I wanted to send. Slowly my finger moved up to the backspace key, and began to tap a soulful jazz rhythm.

I sat there a while, because the clock had moved toward one before I knew it. When I looked back, the screen showed 'I KNOW.'

I looked at it only a few minutes more, before I typed 'I LOVE YOU TOO.' I hit send, and gathered my stuff while the PC logged off, then headed to the class to drop off the work that was due, before I went to see Doctor Cross.

Of Doctor Cross, all I can say is that he is a great listener, but he seems to have an aversion for admitting that the Earth actually revolves around the Sun. He'd informed me that it would take three or four more sessions, until he is comfortable that he knows me well enough to be able to answer some of the questions I’d asked - but he is a great listener. He scribbles notes very fast too.

I was thinking about one thing he said, though. He said that most of the people he worked with knew what they wanted, but were afraid of it for some reason. He said that sometimes it takes a little time to figure out exactly what you want, but it was usually what you knew you needed all along.

I was passing by the office, when I got an inspiration for the first time that day, on account of my having no classes in the afternoon late in the week. I stopped at the window to the office, and filled out a slip requesting permission to leave the campus to do some Christmas shopping. I listed that I wanted to go for only a couple of hours, and put down my cell phone number. Then I filled out the same thing for Saturday morning, listing the dance as the reason, and dropping them both in the slot and onto the top of the rather large pile of sheets that already lay inside the box on a shelf just inside the window.

 
 

 
 

     My eyes were wrong again. I wasn't even looking at my face as I washed it. Just my eyes.

I hadn't seen Miss Lynn since class but I was sure she would be running the tutorial with the dance only a few days away. I was so glad she was feeling better but wasn't sure I could go through with it.

“You're just being stupid,” I told my reflection. I hadn't even had a bad day but I just kept looking in the bathroom mirror like I might still find the answer there.

I really had a good day. I got to talk to Doctor Cross. He promised to answer my questions later, because he wanted to know more about me first, and I really understood his position. The problem was, I realized, that I didn't really care what Doctor Cross thought. I didn't even know him.

I did care what Miss Lynn thought because I could have ended her career, and sent her to work at the mall. Because of me, she might never have taught again, and that hurt me terribly. I'd never hurt anyone before, and after this, I sure wouldn't willingly take the chance of doing it again.

I cared what my dad thought, but he didn't seem to care as much about what I was thinking. He would call as soon as he could. He always did. Provided the meetings didn't run too long, and someone remembered to leave it on one of his bullet lists.

That wasn't fair, but it was just the way it was.

I could see the blue and white panties on the curtain rod in the mirror. I chose the white.

Tomorrow I'd have to get more, and some tights.

I didn't want to wear the black again, so I took the next skirt which was a very dark navy blue. Without another blouse, I had to dig to find something. I chose to wear a white turtleneck.

I had to shake my head at the idiot in the long mirror, when I recalled the conversation that I'd had with my father last summer, when he tried to explain to me that boys wore pink polo shirts. I'd thought it was a test at the time, so I'd refused, but the memory inspired me now and I dug in my drawers until I'd found a light cream colored sweater vest from my mother that I'd never worn and slipped that over the turtleneck.

I smiled a little, because that was much better. If I got too hot, I could always take the vest off, I thought, pulling the locket out of the turtleneck and laying it in the V of the vest.

The perfume and mascara were right where I'd left them, but this time I remembered to slip them in the little purse when I was done.

 
 

 
 

     I was very early, again, and the lights were off in the theater, so I went around flipping switches, moving curtains and generally getting things ready. I was even able to spend time to find a softer, much better fitting pair of shoes, too. Two minutes told me they were much better than those I'd worn before and, after so many dances lately, I was grateful.

“Chris?” I heard the door close as she called up from in the seating.

“Good evening, Miss Lynn. You're early too.” I said, moving to the front of the stage to wait for her, since everything was ready.

She strode purposefully down the aisle toward me. “I thought I should be. The boys are in a bit of a panic now. I didn't really expect you to be here. Are you Okay?” She asked moving steadily closer as she stared at me, which I think accounted for the funny tone in her voice when she asked how I was.

“I'm fine, ma'am. Please don't worry about me.”

Neither of us said anything, until she was up the stairs, but she spoke as soon as her foot touched the wood of the stage.

“Chris. What are you doing?”

“I'm doing what I was asked. I'm doing what I promised you I would.”

She took be by the hand and pulled me around the corner of the stage behind the curtain.

“Chris, we don't have much time. The guys will be her any minute because they're really getting a little freaked out about the dance. I… I don't think you understand how worried everyone from the Headmaster on down are.”

“He doesn't have to worry about me. I'm fine.”

“You are not fine; he does have to worry about you. I'm worried about you. He likes you, Chris. A lot. He just can't ever show it but, I promise you, that when he heard what you were going through he was as upset and angry as I've ever seen him. The administrator too. Mrs. Pierce likes all you boys, more than she lets on, but I really get the impression that she thinks of you like one of her own. You do know how much they really like you, right?”

I nodded and mumbled that I did.

“Well they want to help you, Chris, but they just don't really know how yet. They're not your parents and there are only certain things they can do. You have to get hold of yourself.”

“I know that, Miss Lynn. I wouldn't upset any of them, or you, for anything.”

“God damn it,” she hissed, “I'm not really talking about them Chris, and you know it. I've seen your test scores and you had better get this 'I'm just being lil ol' me' act out of your system damned fast. They can't tell you that you can't wear a skirt and makeup to practice, because they already told you that you could, and because at this point it would probably violate their own non-discrimination policy. Nevertheless, Chris, they are also very afraid to tell you that you can't. They are really worried that you might be close.”

“I'm sorry. Really I am. I do understand. I'm just not sure if you or anyone else does, Miss Lynn.”

She was really looking at me now, still worried, and a little confused even.

“I'm not doing anything to worry you or anyone, Miss Lynn. I'll only wear the clothes for the dancing. The clothes aren't what's important anyway. They make me feel good, really good, but not so much that I'd keep doing it if it were going to hurt anything. I'm not doing it to upset anyone and, if you want me to go and change, I will. It's just… it's not my fault how I look in them. It's not my fault what people see.”

She really did look surprised. I knew she really understood more than everyone except perhaps for Mrs. Pierce, but I also knew that she would understand soon. She wasn't the kind to give up on anything before she figured it out.

She breathed out a heavy drawn-out sigh. “I get it, Chris. Honestly, I do. You just need to be careful how far you push everything so quickly. If the head could have ordered you to change immediately he would have. Not that he doesn't understand or sympathize, because he does understand, Chris, one hell of a lot more than you give him credit for understanding. He's just very worried you're ready to crack. You should give them a break.”

“Did you get into a lot of trouble?”

She sighed again, and nodded her head this time. “Not for trying to help you, because that's what I should do. Even if I were not so fond of you, which was what the Headmaster was afraid the board members might think.”

I asked, a little dully, "Are they involved."

She shook her head. "No, thank God. The head just wanted to have the answers ready if they should find out."

She shook her head again, and her expression softened a lot more than I'd have thought it could. “Did you really tell them I was more like a big sister? I was only trying to get you to smile, and maybe to talk to me. I didn't mean to brainwash you.”

“I did.”

“Well, if my little brother had been as nice as you, I'd have never been mean to him at all.”

“How much trouble were you in?” I asked again, because I was still worried for the trouble I'd caused her.

“Well like I said, they couldn't be mad about my being nice to you, because it's my job, and they encourage us to do that wherever we see the need. Then again, when I went to them on Monday night and told them almost everything, because I was so worried about you too, they were not happy about anything I said. The clothes, well they were part of the dance program, and this school has a long history of boys wearing girls clothes for plays and such, so they could be disappointed, but they couldn't be mad about that either. The one part that truly pissed them off, was that I took you off campus dressed in girl’s clothes. I think that's why Doctor Pope and Mrs. Pierce wanted to have everything examined, in case any of the governors found out. He wanted to have the answers ready, so he could protect us both.”

I felt so bad. “I'm so sorry. I knew it was dumb at the time but I really wanted to go with you.”

“I did too. Moreover, Chris, if I had to do it all over again, I'd have tried a little brighter lipstick on you, because I just thought you looked adorable. Other than that, I'd do the same thing again. Seeing you happy for the first time was worth it.

"Still, they were really pissed, and if it were not for Mrs. Pierce sticking up for me, saying that I did the best I could in a bad situation. I might have lost my job. Even the appearance or suggestion of something askew in a place like this; you just don't do that.”

“I am sorry but, you should know, when we were laughing and joking and talking, it felt really good. The nicest anything's felt for a long long time.”

She smiled as she reached out to adjust the locket on the front of my shirt.

“I know, and it's even more than that, Chris. What I told the Headmaster was, that until I saw you laughing and smiling on Friday, I had never actually realized how depressed you've been. You are always nice and polite, you work so very hard, and you're so even tempered… how could I know that you were really so depressed for so long. I couldn't believe the change. No Chris, the one thing I'm very sure of is that you don't need to apologize. I'm glad we went.”

“Thank you, Miss Lynn. I was so scared for you. That means so much, and I'll never forget what you did for me, or the risk you took.”

“You are welcome, but I have to ask you to do one more thing for me. I need you to hold on and be a little more patient. Give them a little time to find out how to make you feel better. I'm not saying that there is anything wrong with what you've done because I really can't bring myself to feel that there is. You're just young, and it's easy to forget that it's not always about you. I was lucky. I learned that lesson very early, from my family any time when I knew or understood something that they didn't. Sometimes I just had to go slower until they caught up. I really, really believe that you have to do that now too. Okay?”

I didn't answer at first, but I really didn't want to make her unhappy because I could never have stood to see the same kind of disappointment on her face that had been on the headmaster's.

“I'll be careful.” I promised. “I'll be tough.”

She looked at me a little worried for a few seconds but then she said, “Thank you, Chris.”

She looked like she wanted to talk some more, but the door banged loudly, and then it banged again. The guys were early. It's funny how an imminent crisis can make you want to do things that you never thought you would ever have the courage to do in your life.

I stood on the stage and sorted the CDs on the table while everyone gathered. Even though it was still twenty minutes early, when there were six of us there, Miss Lynn took pity and started us off.

“Okay!” She was smiling at their earnest looks. “So, who still feels like they are really worried?”

Even I smiled, since there were more hands in the air than there were people present.

“Okay, Okay. Put your hands down. I get the point. Looks like we'll have to go alphabetically. Ah, let me see… Jerry.”

“M-My name is L-Langley, Ma'am.”

“I said we'd go alphabetically, Mister Langley. I didn't say I wouldn't start in the middle.”

“Wa-why me ma'am? I passed in my labs.”

“I know… and we'll talk about that later. You look the most frightened.”

That got his classmates to show their sympathy and appreciation. Not.

Miss Lynn raised her voice just loudly enough to cut across the din. “The racks back there are full of tutus and bridesmaid dresses and all manner of things much funnier than you are being required to endure right now. Just keep it up.”

They were a much more serious bunch when she finished staring at each of them in turn..

“Now listen, I know you are all nervous but you don't have to be. I promise. If you'll just work with me a little, you will do just fine at the dance. I'll even go so far as to say that I am now quite sure that you will all have a nice time.”

She smiled to reassure them, and I think it worked.

“Jerry?” She held out her hands.

Well, her smile worked on everyone, except of course, Jerry. It was bad enough about the dance but he always stammered around Miss Lynn on a good day. I think she was the only one who didn't know that he didn't actually have a speech impediment.

I felt so bad for him, I was talking before I knew it. “Ma'am, may I? Jerry?” I said, as I walked over to stand right in front of him. “You're too nervous. This is easy, you just don't like dancing with the boys, do you?”

“Heck No.” he smiled a little, forgetting he was afraid of me too.

“Look at me. Now put your hand on my hip right here.” I said patting my hipbone before reaching down and taking his hand, and turning it in mine to the proper position “Come on. I don't have anything the doctors could find… a little closer… not that close, Jerry. Listen, I've never been on a date either but I'm pretty sure you are supposed to let the girl lean into you when she's ready. If you do that at the dance, they'll be creeped-out as bad as you are right now.”

He smiled as he relaxed. “Good, that's much better. You just relax now, Jerry. I've danced with you, and so has Miss Lynn. You really are a better dancer than I am but, man, you are working on being the first sophomore at Saint Andrew's to die of a heart attack unrelated to Professor Tam's Latin theses.”

I looked over at the guys, who were just staring expressionlessly at us. I asked, “Can someone hit play, please?”

“You ready?” I spoke more softly to him.

He nodded, and said. “You smell really nice, Chris.”

Some of the guys chortled at that one.

“Jerry, it won't do us any good if you make me nervous too. Pay attention now… but, that's something you can do that at the dance. It’s nice, so thank you.”

The first strains began to play, and I asked again. “All set?”

He nodded again, looking down to make sure his feet were not on my hem, just like we'd been taught.

“Good. Whenever you are ready.” I said, and I closed my eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing, Jerry. You're a good dancer. Don't worry, I'll follow wherever you lead me, just don't dance us off the stage. Would you rather I stare at you?”

“No!”

“Good, you're not exactly good looking anyway.” I told him.

“What?!”

“It's nothing to worry about.” I assured him. “There are plenty of very successful silly looking people.”

“Look who's talking.”

“Fine.”

“I just get nervous!” He claimed.

“No problem. Whenever you're ready, Jerry. Un-less you-just want-to hold-hands?” I said to the tempo of the music that had well begun, and then I just waited serenely.

On the next up beat, I felt Jerry push gently against my hip as he pulled slightly on my hand.

I only had my eyes closed for a few seconds but by then Jerry was fine. He was actually grinning at me for being such an idiot. So much so, that he forgot to be nervous at all.

I don't believe, judging by the look on her face, that Miss Lynn knew what to think but she was soon working with a boy of her own.

We drifted to a stop just as the music died. He was grinning as the other boys gave us a polite if enthusiastic golf clap.

“Thanks, Chris.” He mumbled.

I leaned a little closer and whispered. “With those moves, and that handsome face, Jerry, you are going to kill 'em. You might even avoid a virgin death.”

It was nice to see someone else blush for a change.

I looked around, and was worried that Miss Lynn was still watching me with a blank face, but I was sure she didn't want to say anything, so I turned to get another boy.

“Jacob.” I walked over and held out my hand to the tallest boy. My being one of the smallest, it was kind of funny, so everyone had two reasons to laugh, including the look in his face. “You have good rhythm, too. You just remember to take smaller steps, so that you don't squish anyone. There will be a lot of the little people on the dance floor. If you take your time, you'll be okay too”

Others were entering now, the confident ones like Tom, but I ignored them. I had to lift my arms up higher than normal, but I managed as I stood in position and looked over my shoulder at Miss Lynn.

She glanced at me and then nodded at the boy with the remote.

They really didn't need to worry. They all did much better than they had a week ago and the dances just seemed to follow one after the other as soon as we could change partners, sometimes in mid waltz.

Tom then asked me for the next dance, instead of waiting, which cause me to smile and blush while calling him a jerk.

We were ending the fifth dance when someone in the audience area began to applaud.

Mrs. Pierce stood up from where she had been sitting by the aisle, the fourth row back. “That was… impressive.” She said while looking at me.

I had no idea how long she'd been there and I wanted to look at the floor.

She didn't give me the chance. “Miss Lynn, I'm sorry to leave you short-handed, but I need to have a word with, Chris.”

“Of course.” Miss Lynn replied.

I could not help but stare straight back at Mrs. Pierce, watching me as I had to lift my skirt to walk down the stairs.

“My office, Chris.” she said softly, before raising her voice. “I'm sorry boys, but you should know that you are all doing very well indeed. I am very impressed. Miss Lynn.”

She caught up to me where I was waiting just outside the door, in the hall.

“Chris, don't look so worried.” She said, patting my shoulder but not smiling at all.

“I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't think Miss Lynn was very happy with me either.”

“What? Why?” Mrs. Pierce stopped, causing me to, also.

I just lifted my skirt a few inches and let it drop.

“Oh. I see.” She shook her head. “Chris, is that why you think I came to get you? Because of how you were dressed?”

I could only nod, hoping that my eyes weren't as big as they felt as I looked up at her. I swear I could feel them drying out before she shook her head.

“No, Chris. We need to call your father back. He called about thirty minutes ago, which gives us only about ten more to place the call to him.”

“He said he would but I guess he couldn't reach me.” I said, feeling only slightly better.

“Not at all, Chris. He called me before he tried you.”

“Is anything wrong, ma'am?”

She smiled a little for the first time but it wasn't any of the smiles I was used to. She just looked worried, but she quickly gave me her usual straightforward answer just the same.

“Yes there is, Chris. The same old thing, but I'm doing everything I can to get it straightened out as quickly as I can.”

“Did I do something wrong, ma'am?”

“Well it's good to see you still worry about that just a little… but no, Chris. You haven't. This has nothing to do with you really, except for the fact that when parents make any kind of mistake, it's always the younger folks in the family who take the brunt of it. When Doctor Pope or I make a mistake, it's always some of you who get the brunt, I'm sorry to say. You can't expect it to be any different at your home.”

“I think this is my home.” I said, not sounding nearly as sad as I'd intended, because I was too worried.

“That's what I'm trying to fix. Now come on, we have to get a move on.”

“Yes, ma'am.” I said immediately but I had to hurry to keep up.

“That was very impressive with Jerry.” She surprised me.

“You saw that, ma'am?”

“I see most things that matter, Chris, and that was one of the nicest.”

“He's just shy, ma'am, but he's really about the nicest boy here.”

“I see that too. He's also frightened to death of one very beautiful chemistry professor I can name.”

I'm sure my eyes grew wide again.

“That one was easy, Chris. I wish they all were.”

“She hates being called 'Professor'.” I said softly.

“I did too, when I was younger. It grows on you, however. Just about the time you figure out the way things work around here, and that it's the headmaster who's going to have to get the phone call about Jerry Casanova Langley from Saint Mary's, because you've just created a monster, that you start to look back pretty fondly at being called 'Professor' Pierce. Even if you take into account the nicknames. Now hurry. I spent way too much time watching you.”

 
 

 
 

     It made me feel a little weird when Mrs. Pierce took the seat beside me, and reached for the phone, but the second she did, I knew I wanted her to stay.

The woman on the other end of the phone spoke, French, which I understood pretty well because of Mom. Mrs. Pierce sounded like the French Ambassador to the United Nations.

'Apology. It's too late to place a call to a patient room. So very sorry, nothing I can do.'

Mrs. Pierce informed her it was to the doctor's office, not a room.

'Can't place the call this late, but can take message.'

Mrs. Pierce told her, very very nicely, that the international call was expected by her hospital director, and, if she didn't put us through immediately, the only thing she'd be taking was a place in the ranks of the unemployed. I'm pretty sure.

A phone was ringing about a second later and a man answered only a couple of seconds after that by saying "Hello", also in French.

To me, she said. “Chris, this is Doctor Rudolph Merz, the director of the hospital, at your mother's clinic outside of Biel. Doctor Merz, it’s Mrs. Pierce, from the Saint Andrew's school.”

Doctor Merz responded in English, but he had a heavy German accent, which didn't seem to bother Mrs. Pierce any more than it did me.

“Thank you for calling back so quickly, Mrs. Pierce. It's quite late here, but we thought it best not to wait. Is Chris there?”

Mrs. Pierce told them I was.

“Chris?” My father spoke.

“Dad?”

“Yes, I'm here. I'm sorry to do this to you, Chris. If I could have gotten on a plane out tonight, I would have, but it's snowing like crazy. Bern, Zurich, Basel. Everything in range is shut down and, with the trains delayed, anything that can still fly is just too far in topography like this.”

“I understand.” I said, having to swallow between each word to get it out. “What's going on, Dad? Is mom…”

Mrs. Pierce looked calm when she broke in forcing me to look at her as she whispered. “She's not hurt, Chris. It's a clinic, not a hospital.”

“Dad?” I said, trying to keep my voice under control, but it was no use. The pitch was already too high.

The line went dead silent for several seconds, and then there was a little pop followed my father's voice talking quickly. “… the hell you will. I've listened to everyone for two years about what was best and I've gone along with whatever you said. I have a son in trouble now and he deserves to hear it from me or his mother…”

There was a pause in which you could actually hear my dad staring at the doctor. “Chris?”

“I'm still here, Dad.”

“Chris, listen to me. Like I said, this is something that I wanted to tell you in person but I just can't make it tonight. It's not a really bad thing, so I don't want you to get upset, but I still don't want you to have to wait any more. This whole thing was stupid from the jump, so I'm going to tell you now over the phone and I want you to just listen carefully to what I have to say.”

“Okay.” I said, just as frightened as when I thought Mom had been hurt.

“Chris, do you remember that last summer, about three years ago when Mom and I went down to New York to visit my friend, and to take in a couple of plays?”

“Yes sir. You came home the next day.”

“That's exactly right, Chris. That was the time that we were walking to the cars and we were about to get mugged by some kids on the street, when the cop car just showed up.”

“I remember, Dad. Mom was really upset, and you guys came home early. You guys already told me about this. Is Mom there with you, Dad?”

“Not yet, Chris, she's coming. I wanted to talk to you first. But that is right, that's the night I was talking about. I'm sorry to say that that was not the first time that something like that happened to your mother.”

“Sir?” I wanted to ask more, but that was all I got out.

“You remember that your mother spent most of her teenage years in schools, like you…”

I grunted, and started to confirm that I knew all of this, but dad ignored me.

“So, even though she had been all over the world, most of the time she really led a very sheltered existence.”

I suddenly felt my eyes filling up and I didn't even know why.

“About a year before I met her, your mother was walking back to her apartment one evening when she was attacked by a group of punk kids.”

“Oh no,” I whispered. Barely a whisper.

Mrs. Pierce had her hand on my shoulder, only this time she was rubbing it, but I hardly even noticed.

“Well they... they hurt her, Chris. She spent almost a month in the hospital, just because of the damage they did, and although they caught the little bastards, they didn't do near enough to them for what they did to your mother. Ever since then, she's always been uncomfortable around young men she doesn't know.”

“Dad…” It just came out.

“So you see, Chris, when that thing happened in New York, she just ...”

I started to cry now. It felt like my insides were being ripped out and I could hardly breathe at all.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“She didn't want anyone to know, Chris. Especially you. You were too young and no woman would want it to be common knowledge. She started getting worse and by that September...” He paused.

I started to sob freely now. I knew. I finally understood.

Dad was talking fast and most earnestly now. “Chris It wasn't your fault, you didn't do anything…”

“The pool?… Dad? Did I hurt her?” I couldn't see or get anything else out because of the sobs.

“Chris? Chris….” He kept trying but I couldn't hear him until he said very loudly, “With all due respect, shut up… Yeah, I know it's your God damned phone, but I paid for all the things. Chris?”

I made a noise that was more a noise a wounded animal would make than a word. I'd hurt her, and she…

“Chris, Please listen…”

I moaned, not hearing him at all, “Please God, no Dad. I'm so sorry. I…”

“You didn't hurt your mother Chris. It wasn't anything you did. She loves you, and she knows how much you love her. She knows” Dad's voice sounded like he was crying too. “This is why she didn't want you to know, Chris," he finished helplessly.

He took several seconds before he continued.

“She was just frightened. That was the problem, Chris. She knew you'd never hurt her, and she loves you twice as much as anyone else, even me. She just couldn't control it. She panicked, and when she swung at you, and she couldn't stop herself, it scared her so bad she cried for days.

"As you grew older… you got bigger. Chris, she didn't even want you to know, because she knew how badly it would hurt you. She begged and begged me, she made me promise never ever to let you know, because it wasn't you. She wasn't really afraid of you, or of anything else as much as she was afraid of hurting you. That's what you need to remember.”

“She's afraid of me now!” I whined, even though I'd tried to ask more clearly.

Mrs. Pierce pulled me to lean against her as I closed my eyes so that I wouldn't have to stare at the phone any more.

“Not you Chris.” Mrs. Pierce whispered to me.

Dad started talking again. “That's right. It never was you, Chris. It was those others, who if there is any justice, will rot in hell forever. As you grew older, your mother just felt more nervous. She didn't even tell me about that for over a year.”

He sounded so bad

“Chris?” My dad asked. “Chris?”

Mrs. Pierce answered for me. “He hears you, Mr. Morgan.” Her voice had lost its softness, and only sounded angry. “We may have to cut this short.”

I found my voice then, crying just as hard. “No! I need to speak to my mother,” I told her. Then to the phone. “Where's mom, Dad? I need to talk to her. Please!”

“I know, Chris. She's right outside the door, but Chris, I need you to calm down before I can bring her in. She's already feeling so bad, and so guilty… about what I've done to you… You have to be strong Chris. For Mom.”

“What?” I heard my stomach knot up, even as I heard myself ask in a flat tone. “Be strong?”

“Chris…” Mrs. Pierce said, trying to get my attention, but it was only about three years too late.

I shouted at the phone. “What for?! Is that really your whole fucking plan, Dad! No matter what, I'm just supposed to be…”

Mrs. Pierce pulled my arm, and made me look at her. She wasn't even mad. There were tears in her eyes too, which silenced me, as she was shaking her head to tell me not to. My head was on her shoulder before I knew it.

It was several minutes, and a bottle of water, before I could even begin to compose myself..

“Chris?” It was my mother.

She didn't sound anything like her other calls. The deadpan, pleasant little responses were gone. She was crying too.

“Mom? Are you Okay?” Another sob escaped me, and kept me from saying how much I missed her.

“No Chris. I wouldn't let them give me any medicine tonight so I could talk to you. I've been so worried about you. I miss you so much and when your father told me about how bad you've been feeling. I can't sleep, or eat…”

“Mom.” I gasped when I'd taken in enough air. “I'm so sorry, you don't have to be afraid of me, I'm not like…”

“Chris?” She had to call my name again and again to get me to stop apologizing and to pay attention. “I'm the one who's sorry. I know….”

She just stopped then. We both did.

My dad spoke into the phone to me. “Chris, I don't know if we can ever make this up to you. I don't think we ever can, but I promise you we will all try.”

My mother spoke then, more clearly than she had before, but obviously not to me. “I want you to go get my son!”

“I wil --” The line went dead with another little pop. My mouth was hanging open as I stared at the phone in horror. It was several seconds before I heard the second pop, and my mother say: “… and what's more, doctor, you're fired. Don't you ever cut off a call to my son again. Chris? Chris, honey?”

She sounded so much like her old self, I couldn't help myself. “Mom? Is that really you?”

“Oh God, Chris, yes. It's Mummy. I needed to tell you, I'm so sorry.”

“Mom, please don't. I understand.”

“NO! You don't, Chris, just listen to me. The things at school. Because I was so scared. It's my fault. If I'd encouraged you more to be like other boys… I'm the one who wanted you to like music and art, and to just be nicer. It's my fault. You were always so smart and so sweet, and I was so proud of you.”

“Mom?”

It took several seconds for what she was saying to sink in, and she was finished talking before it did.

“Mom?” I tried to get her to talk to me again.

“Yes Chris?” She sounded so tired, and so sad.

“That's not your fault.”

“Chris, I'm sorry, but I didn't realize what I was --”

“Mom, That's not your fault. Here at school. It has nothing to do with you.”

It sounded like she wasn't crying any more. “I'm Sorry, Chris. I really am. About everything, and we will talk about it when I see you. Please don't cry any more sweetheart. I've cried enough for all of us. I love you so much, and I'm so sorry you've been so alone.”

“I'm not alone, Mom. Mrs. Pierce, she looks after us. Doctor Pope is a lot like you said your grandfather was, he's funny, and he's always nice, even though he tries so hard not to show it. Miss Lynn…” I choked up.

“I know they are wonderful people, but I miss you too much to care about them now, Chris. Now I really have to go. It's so late here, and I have such a terrible headache. I will see you soon, so please don't cry any more. Everything will be better soon. Your father and I promise.”

“Okay.” I promised, sure that I'd cry the rest of the night.

“Mom?”

“Yes Chris?”

“Is it nice where you are?” I asked, choking up again, because this suddenly hurt worse than anything else. I just suddenly hated to think of her locked up in some awful castle looking place. “Are you happy there?”

“It's very pretty, Chris. My apartment looks over an Arm der Schá¼ss. It's part of the Suze River. It's more like a canal than like the rivers back home, but it's very pretty in the winter. I can see a little of Lake Biel from the top floor, and your father and I go there to walk sometimes. It's all very pretty, but I can never be happy until I can see you. Now, I want you to try and get some rest. Good night Chris. I love you so much.”

“I Love you too mom.” I tried to keep her from knowing I was still weeping, almost uncontrollably, but it was hard. “Dad?”

“Right here Chris.”

“I'm sorry, Dad. I love you too.”

“Me too, Son. It wasn't much of a plan. I'll see you soon.”

“Okay. Night.” I said, short of breath.

German accent broke in “Before you promise something so foolish, you should consider…”

"What are you talking about?" My father snapped at him, but Mrs. Pierce interrupted them both rather forcefully.

“Doctor Merz?”

Sounding even more German than before, he answered. “Yes Mrs. Pierce?”

“Two quick things Doctor. The first is that Chris, an extraordinarily polite and gifted child, is still listening. The second is that although I'm sure you've achieved many impressive degrees and certificates from all the best schools from Stockholm to Barcelona, in my broad experience of people, I just have to say you are quite possibly the biggest ass I've ever encountered and I've had the misfortune to have encountered a rather large and distinguished cross section from that particular list.”

There was a strangling sound for several seconds “I beg your…?” He gurgled.

Mrs. Pierce, responded even more quickly. “Oh! I'm sorry. Let me help you understand in some languages you are perhaps more comfortable with. Un á¢ne. Ein Esel. I'm sure I could give you a rough translation in Russian and Japanese as well if those would be helpful doctor, but here in America we just call people like you, an Ass.”

“Ube--”

She hit the button cutting the call, before she looked at me. “I'm pretty sure, that if he had anything worthwhile to say, it would have taken him less than two years to get around to it.”

She was still looking at me, as she handed me another tissue, and took one for herself. All I could do was to look back, too emotionally wrung out to be in shock.

“I'd love to sick Miss Lynn, and her judo on that guy. Don't you dare repeat that, Chris.”

“No, ma'am.”

“Are you Okay?”

“Yes ma'am. I just can't believe they didn't tell me.”

She nodded and looked at her hands for several moments.

“That's the problem with all lies, Chris. Even if they start for the best of reasons, they tend to grow and take on a life of their own. I've done it myself. Very seldom, but I have. I've regretted it every time because, in the end, it always caused more problems than it would have caused to have just told the truth.”

She looked at me again, for several more moments. “You will too, in your time. Even though you now know, much better than most, the damage it can cause. It's what it is to be human. Right now, it's just your parent’s turn. I'm sure two years ago, this was only supposed to be a matter of a few weeks, or a month at most.”

I nodded.

“Are you hungry, Chris? Do you want me to wake up the kitchen staff?”

“No ma'am.” I smiled weakly. “They have to get up early. If you don't mind, ma'am, I'm feeling very tired. I'd just like to go to bed.”

“I'm headed that way, myself. I'll walk you.”

She didn't say anything more as we walked toward my wing and, with her hand on my arm, up the stairs. There were one or two kids in the hall, and even more in the library, but most just steered clear while watching me through the corners of their eyes. Only one brave one, even said hello.

In my room, I sat on the bed, and was looking at my feet when Mrs. Pierce bent down to pull off my shoes, and when I lay down to put my head on the pillow, she laid a quilt my mother had sent over me.

I watched her for a little while, looking around my room. She hung up the shirt on the doorknob, and then the skirts on the door. In the bathroom, she seemed to be looking at the clothing drying on the rod, and going through the makeup and things, She tidied up in there as well, before she came back out and sat to log into my computer.

 
 

 
 

     “ ... No John, She's just very tired. She practically passed out.”

“She?” He asked.

“Well you heard what Doctor Cross said just as well as I did, but however you think is best. I'm sure he'll be fine then. Poor kid may be as tough as any adult but he has just had the stuffing knocked out of him.”

Mrs. Pierce was sitting in my chair, with a book in her lap. A man in blue jeans and a tweed jacket…, oh God, Doctor Pope!

“Headmaster.” I tried to get up, but he wouldn't let me.

That's when I realized the nurse was standing in the door, packing up her stuff in a small bag.

He spoke softly but cheerfully. “I'm sorry Chris. I didn't mean to wake you.”

“Sir, I…”

“Don't worry, Chris. It's a social call. I just wanted to check on you. How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine, sir. My mother was in a mental hospital.”

He sighed and nodded his head.

As promised, he just took a breath, and started in. “We had a letter almost two years ago, from the doctor in charge, saying that it might do irreparable harm to you and your mother if we interfered. Your father told me that he felt he had no choice but to follow the advice. That's where Mrs. Pierce went that second Christmas, to see your family. I argued with him about it too, several times. Damned silly business, if anyone asked me, but our hands were tied. Practically had to sit on Mildred to keep her from strangling people, especially that next time your father visited. With that letter in hand, however, our options were nil. We didn't know what we could do, and Doctor…” He looked at Mrs. Pierce, and frowned.

“Did you really call him an ass?”

“In three languages. I wanted to be sure he understood.”

He chuckled at her, but looked back down at me. “Anyway, if it had just been your father's wishes, we'd have told you, and given him our lawyer's second cousin's wrong number. With that letter from the doctor, though, we had no way at all of knowing if it would actually do the very real harm he said it would. He is, after all, one of the best known and best respected Psychiatric Asses in Europe. Believe me, that was one of the first things I checked. I'm so very sorry, Chris.” The man looked like he wanted to cry too.

I tried to get up again, feeling much more discomfort just then at having the headmaster leaning over my bed, than I felt over some silly doctor, who Mrs. Pierce had already told off in style anyway.

“No, no Chris. You just relax. Big day for anyone. On top of everything else, you deserve to rest a bit at least. I just wanted to check on you... you know, to keep Mrs. Pope happy, and on the off chance that you were awake, to tell you how very sorry I am for my part in all of this.”

Mrs. Pierce said. “I'm sorry too.”

He looked at her very differently then. “No you're not. This was me.”

I didn't try to get up because he was rubbing my arm through the sleeve of the turtleneck. My vest had disappeared.

“Don't worry, Headmaster. I'm sorry I said I was mad at you. I'm not mad any more. Even when I said that, I never believed you did anything. It was that doctor,” I still felt I had to be honest with him, and I very much wanted to, “ ... and my parents. My dad especially for believing his…”

I couldn't say it. Not in front of the headmaster, and not in front of Mrs. Pierce, especially after what they had both already done for me.

“Very mature, Chris, and I understand your meaning. I'd have let it slide just this once, though, because what you think it was, is what I think it was. Mrs. Pierce wasn't quite so nice. Are you going to be Okay?”

“Yes sir. I don't need a suicide watch or anything. It's not like that. It's just the thought of my poor mother…” That hurtful image of her being locked someplace horrible stopped me, but I believed that Dad would never let that happen.

He nodded, and looked at the floor for a second before looking back at me.

“If you want, I'd be happy to take you to the hospital, and have them check you out. Not because I think you are a candidate for a suicide watch, Chris, but because we care about you. No one should have to deal with this. Especially not someone your age. If there is any way I can help, I will.”

“I know, sir. I'm fine now. My dad will come soon, and we'll talk then. Thank you for that.”

He nodded, and I looked up at Mrs. Pierce.

“And thank you too, ma'am.”

“My pleasure, Chris. I'm not sure if your father will be in shape to fly back, when I've…”

The headmaster looked at her, and she just stopped to look at the backs of her fingers.

“You get some sleep.” He said. “I've excused you from your classes for today and tomorrow. You got another 4.0 on your surprise Latin quiz today, by the way. Congratulations.”

I looked at the clock. It was after twelve. I couldn't help it. I grinned.

“There you are. If you still feel up to going out tomorrow, I'd like you to take someone with you. Otherwise, and unless you are one-hundred, and I do mean one-hundred percent, I'd like you to stay here.”

“I'm really fine, sir. I'm going to get to see my mother and father after all. I'm much better than fine.”

He looked at Mrs. Pierce.

Mrs. Pierce just held up the book a little. “I'll be here for a little while longer. I never realized that neutrinos morph between two forms as they travel from the sun to the earth. Fascinating.”

“Don't stay up all night, Mildred. I need you tomorrow, to get the reception hall opened up and that circus organized. More damned silly business.”

She nodded. “I just think he needs… someone right now.”

The Head patted her hand, and we both watched him go. After that, Mrs. Pierce smiled at me before picking up the book…

 
 

 
 

My very special thanks to Geoff for his invaluable time and advice.

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

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Chapter VII

 
 
 

     "Ha… Hello?"

"Chris, are you awake? It's me, your chemistry teacher."

I tried to sit up quickly to look at the clock. Oh my god, I'd overslept. I couldn't. My head was spinning, and even if that were not the case, the bright sun would have prevented me from seeing the clock anyway.

She told me. "The Nurse said that she snuck in to check you this morning, and you were sleeping through your Wednesday morning breakfast but that we should get you up for lunch."

"What time is it? My alarm is turned off."

"It's almost eleven. Mrs. Pierce said that you've been approved for a pass off campus, and she asked me If I'd mind going with you." She sounded surprised at the reversal of fortune. "That must have been some phone call." She finished.

My head felt so fuzzy. "It was. I don't even know how to tell you about it."

"Don't worry. When I called to check on you last evening, Mrs. Pierce answered the phone. She filled me in on only a little, but I heard enough. I am very sorry to hear but I'm so glad it's all finally out in the open. Now, maybe, you can feel free to smile more, if you want."

I did.

"So how about it. You can go but you have to go in normal clothes."

"Ma'am?"

"Boy's clothes, Chris. No wandering around town in one of Mr. Kinsley’s tutus."

I giggled too.

"I won't. I've got to go in for a two o'clock appointment."

"Appointment?"

"Hair."

I thought she muttered something, but I wasn't sure. "I can't go that early, Chris. I have classes but I can meet you in town about four thirty, if you want, and we can grab a pizza or something."

"I would like that. I may need some help with some of the things but I'll probably just meet you back here first. I'm going to buy your Christmas present and I can't let you see it."

She groaned "You can't do that, Chris, and you know it. What? Are you trying to find a new way to get me fired every week?" She chuckled a little.

"I know. I'd sure like to be able to though. I'll call you when I get back."

She seemed fine with that. "Okay, Chris. Don't wear your uniform, either."

"I never wear that to town. I don't have that kind of death wish."

"Could have fooled me. Now, get up, and get to the dining room before Mrs. Pierce sends out a search team."

"I will, ma'am. I'm starved."

I knew I'd have to hurry but I still went for the bathtub first. I felt a little stiff, and like I just needed the hot water. My room was even neater than usual.

My cell was blinking, so I picked it up and looked at it on the way.

I had a text message in there, from Dad. '2 ft snow. Maybe Sun. Sorry.'

I sighed and set the phone on the toilet seat but it really didn't bother me. I knew he was coming even if it might not be 'til Spring. Being an ocean away was something I was used to.

The phone beeped again.

'Mz P is Funny Dad'

He was on now. I quickly typed in "Can I call?" before I began running more hot water in the tub.

It beeped pretty fast.

'Mtg Sorry'

He was in a meeting. People were there.

I typed in "I need to spend some money" and waited.

"Much?"

I bit my lip and typed "5 0 0". Then bit it again and hit another zero before I hit send.

It took long enough that I checked that the message was in the sent file. I was washing when it beeped again.

'Funny U @ Sch?'

"Y" As usual, I thought.

I pulled the plug and watched till the whirlpool formed before I got out to get dressed.

'1 Min C. Room?'

"Y" I was in my room.

I didn't know if he was going to call or instant message my computer, but he sometimes did that or...

My phone rang.

"Dad?"

I heard "… Jesus Morgan, call your kid. This crap can wait that long…”

Dad spoke then. “Chris?"

"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to bother you. It could have waited a little."

"Don't worry about that. If I'm with the Pope and the President, and the Prime Minister is serving tea, I still have a couple of minutes for you. What's going on?"

"Did I interrupt anyone important?"

"The Pope and The President, but the Prime Minister is almost done with the tea." He joked, but I got the message.

Brevity edifies.

"I want to do some shopping. I need some clothes and some jewelry and stuff for the dance. The dance stuff will probably be a lot. More than I ever spend."

Dad wasn't annoyed. "That's okay, Chris. Some of these guys’ kids buy speedboats and don't say anything. You've never spent more than a movie ticket. I don't mind, but jewelry? Are you Christmas shopping? What kind of jewelry"

I still had to hurry. "Not much. A necklace or two, a bracelet maybe but I'd really like to get some earrings. Nice earrings."

Dad was silent for a long time. It made me nervous.

"I suppose it's too much to hope you are going way overboard on a girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"I think I understand. Chris, we've already pulled the limit we had set on your card because we thought you might have to get on a plane over here. If you need to do some things and you really feel like you can't wait for me, then go ahead. I trust you, Chris. Just don't go completely crazy, or do anything permanent."

"I won't, Dad. Thank you for understanding."

"I love you, Chris. I have to go though."

"I love you too, Dad."

I saw by the clock on the phone that I really had to hurry. I threw on my jeans and stuff as fast as I could before I grabbed the rest of the things I'd need.

I was practically jogging down the hall toward the dining room amid such calls as "Oh! Look! Royalty! He lives!" "Chris is styling a sort of grunge, all American hero look that perfectly captures…"

I couldn't understand how anyone could think I was the one who was nutty.

Lunch was some kind of Stroganoff thing but it was delicious as usual and I ate a fair portion. The ladies looked pleased no end but the guys at my table kept their hands tucked under their arms till I was finished. I just sneered and showed them my choppers.

 
 

 
 

     Miss Lindsay seemed to be the only one who was surprised, when I turned up at the office to sign myself out near twelve-thirty. She came over with a clipboard and pulled a sheet to leave a blank form on top.

"I didn't really expect to see you, Chris."

"No, ma'am." I tried to smile to let her know I was really better than she seemed to be thinking.

She looked at me, worried, but nodded. "Where to?" She poised the pen over the page.

"Clothes and maybe a little Christmas shopping. I'd planned to hit the little shops down town." I'd decided that, because there were more kids in the mall places, probably even some from Saint Mary's. "I also have an appointment at the hair place down there too."

"Which place?"

"Style Palace."

She looked at me a little strangely but didn't speak.

"After that, I might head to the Mall. Cheaper underwear and stuff."

She held out her hand. "Phone?"

I pressed the keys to display the number on the phone and handed it to her. She wrote it down, and then closed the phone before opening it again to look at the battery charge. She dialed the number she'd written and, as soon as my cell chirped, handed it back to me.

"Just a moment, Chris." She said, and walked back into Mrs. Pierce's office.

Mrs. Pierce came out almost immediately but she had papers in both hands. "How are you feeling, Chris?" She asked, setting the papers down, and looking only at me.

"Very well. Thank you, ma'am." I smiled at her and it probably looked good, because I had plenty of reasons to smile at her.

"Are you planning on going out alone?"

"Yes, ma'am. Only at first though. I'll probably be back here before the end of the day and Miss Lynn and I will go out and get a pizza at the mall later."

That made her nod her approval.

"Good, Chris. Transportation?"

"I'd planned on taking the bus to the hair place and then, if I have to, I'll take a cab to the mall or back here."

"Have you a lot of cash on you? You boys tend to take too much."

I smiled. "No, ma'am. I should be fine." She didn’t want me to get rolled or for other kids have the same happen to them.

"Okay, Chris." She initialed the form. "But I have one condition. You have any problems at all, and I mean any, you call me. Excuses will not be tolerated."

"No, ma'am. I'll be fine. Thanks to you."

She smiled again and nodded before she turned to pick up the papers. "Miss Lindsay, did the heating people call back yet? We need to have the heat on over there now."

"No ma'am. I'm sorry, would you like me to call again."

"No, Miss Lindsay, I'd like you to call everyone in the book. The first one to get it on, I'll pay…"

I nodded to Miss Lindsay, who smiled, and got out of there.

 
 

 
 

     As I sat down on the bus, I landed on the little purse I'd hung on its strap under the same grey coat, causing an older couple to look at me.

There were only myself and the two old people on the bus as we pulled away. I'd never seen very many riders, even though only a couple of buses ran out this way. A lot more ran toward the mall on the other side of the town center. All of them were nice and clean and quiet. Some of the guys had to have rides but I didn't mind the buses at all.

It would be one p.m., by the time I got there. Just enough time to breathe a sigh of relief. As we got closer, I turned to watch the windows of the little shops lining the main street.

The bus stopped on a corner about two blocks away from The Style Palace, but I had plenty of time.

As the bus roared away, I could see that there were several other stores that looked promising, but the jewelry store just across the street looked more so. I'd planned on getting a few more things at the mall but I also wanted to buy a couple of nice things too.

The girls at St. Mary's always wore nice jewelry and not fake nice jewelry either. Even the boys at my school had those things. I wanted to make sure I fit in. No three carat stones, mind you, just something small and pretty, but nice too.

As I walked, I pulled the locket out, to lie on top of my turtleneck.

There was an older woman cleaning a case, so I waited. I worked myself that way slowly as I looked in several of the cases. Much of what was there was not what I had in mind, polished rocks and things, and one had two tiaras that had to be fake, because they looked like the crown jewels or something. The next case had watches for men, that were so big and bulky I'd have had to wear them on my leg. The girl’s watches were kind of pretty and there was one that I liked.

Closer to the back, I found the earrings.

"Hello. Off from school?"

I jumped a little, because I had been looking carefully at pairs of earrings in the case, and I didn't really see her coming until a second before she spoke.

She smiled. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, ma'am. I'm the one who is sorry for interrupting you. I was trying to wait. I can see that you're very busy."

"You are a very polite … boy." She said looking at the locket on my shirt. "I'm just trying to catch up a little. The girls in the evening don't spend much time cleaning I'm afraid. So tell me now. You are playing truant today, and had to duck in here to avoid the cops?" She smiled but she looked out the window too.

"No, ma'am. I have today off and I'm shopping for some things I need."

"Christmas shopping? For your mom?" She asked her eyes looking me over.

I could feel myself blush, but only a little. I could try and tell her I was shopping for my mother, but I just didn't want to hide, or to lie.

I thought about it too long.

"Are you alright?" The woman asked me stepping closer. "Is your mother or father with you?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm fine. I was just thinking. My parents are in Switzerland. May I please look at these."

"Those are real diamond earrings. So, you're alone?"

"Yes ma'am, that’s what I’m looking for."

"I don't suppose there would be any harm. How did you get here?"

"The bus."

She laughed as if she thought I was making a joke and I suppose it was kind of funny. She looked like she wanted to ask if it had been a wet ride from Switzerland and I guess I smiled too.

"Here you go." She slid them over but her eyes never left me, as if I were a mystery to break up her day. I was half wondering if she thought I might run for the door.

"May I see these too?"

Her smile faded, and she looked at me for a long time, but she never the less reached in for the other pair of earrings.

"These are much prettier. They sparkle more."

She nodded. "That's right. We don't keep may of these in the cases, but these are blue white diamonds."

"What's the difference?" I asked, not knowing anything about such things.

The woman laughed at my naiveté. "About three times the price per carat in that size."

I looked down at them again. "I don't think the really big ones look very nice."

"Me either." She said, looking at me rather oddly.

"They’re an expensive gift, even for your mother."

"I know. My mother's been ill. That's why she's in Biel. I haven't even seen her for a while." I told her, unsure why.

"Oh. Well they are nice, but…" She just looked at me. "Are you one of the kids from Saint Andrew's?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"I thought it was a high school?" She sought, looking me up and down. "Aren't you a little young?"

"It's a preparatory school, ma'am. They take kids at any age, as long as they can do the work. When I started two years ago, I was one of the youngest."

"You've been in high school for two years?"

"Yes ma'am. Just a little more, because I started just before Christmas a few years ago, so it's about two years. May I please ask, how much are these?"

She was just looking, and looking. Finally she decided to look under the tag.

"These are just under a carat total count, point nine, and are sixteen hundred dollars They are very fine stones. How sick is your mom?"

I looked up, and it was obvious she was feeling bad for me.

"She's getting better now, but she's been sick for over a year. May I please see the ones that are a little smaller…"

She looked like she wanted to smirk, and shake her head at me while saying I told you so, but she was nice, so she reached into the case for one of the little pairs tucked way over to the side.

"No ma'am. Not those. These." I said pointing to the pair that lain just next to the nice pair. They sparkled too.

The woman hesitated but reached for the pair I had pointed out.

"These are square?" I realized.

"That's called a princess cut."

It was silly but that made me grin.

"Do you have any that are about this size, like the pretty ones, but round like the second pair?"

She shook her head just then, but I knew she wasn't telling me that she didn't have what I wanted.

"Honey, I'm never too busy to help, but… are you serious? Do you really want to get a gift like these for you mother? I don't mind showing you. Not at all. If you'd just like to know a little about the stones and things, it really is kind of interesting."

She started by putting the first pair away and pulled out the pair I had not seen.

"No, ma'am." I sighed. "They're not really a gift. The school is having a dance. And…" I didn't quite know how to put it.

I looked at the two pairs together.

"It's a formal dance, a ball really, that they want us to go to, so we know how."

"I heard. I saw you looking at the tiaras. I put them out there, because some of the girls from Saint Mary’s were in looking."

"Are they going to wear tiaras?" I asked, my expression causing her to chuckle.

"No. Not that I know of, anyway. They tried them on but decided they might be a little much."

I could tell that she was still trying to make up her mind about me.

"Those are fourteen hundred." She said. "The dance? Are you looking for something for your girlfriend?" She asked, but her tone told me that she didn't think that was likely either.

I pushed them back slowly and tried to smile again, but it was hard, because of the way she was watching me now. I shook my head no.

"If it's not too much trouble, could I see a pair a little smaller than these little ones?"

She started to take the sixteen hundred dollar pair too, but I put my hand out.

"No. I still like those."

That caused her composure to break a little. I guess it got the better of her. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, ma'am."

I looked at the stones she pulled out from somewhere under the counter and realized that they were just what I wanted.

Looking at the woman, I slid the large pair and the smaller pair over. To me they would be perfect together. "Do you pierce ears?"

"What?” She seemed a little shocked. “Um, yes, honey, but not on someone as young as you without a parent. You have to be sixteen."

"I am sixteen ma'am."

"You go to Saint Andrew's? Not Saint Mary's"

"Yes ma'am."

She didn’t move, obviously knowing that some of the guys had a lot of money to spend, and trying not to be rude, but obviously still feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, ma'am…"

"I think you should call me Mary." She reached over and handed me a card. "I know you may be able to afford it but perhaps you should come back with your parents…"

I slipped my card and My ID onto the display case and, at the sight of the color of my card, her color turned pale.

She nodded. "Which pair do you like."

"These two." I pushed the large and small pairs toward her.

"And they are for you?"

"Yes ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am. We are not supposed to give out too much information to strangers." I looked down, "Mrs. Sommes, but yes ma'am. I want them for the dance, unless you think they will look to big on me?"

"Both pairs?" She asked, looking at the credit card again.

"Yes, please."

"Will that be all?" She said in surprise.

"No, ma'am. If you have the time, I wanted to get a necklace too, but I… I'm not sure what goes with what. I want it to be simple but pretty."

She started laughing, as she placed my earrings behind her and pulled out a tray from an adjacent case. “Tell me, what color are you wearing?”

“Royal-blue velvet.”

She laughed and shook her head.

 
 
 

      A woman who came out from the back to help Mrs. Sommes was even more skeptical.

Mrs. Sommes looked from me down to the small pile of jewelry on the counter, that now included a simple gold ring bracelet, and a pretty double diamond pendant necklace whose stones matched the earrings.

She looked at my ID, and at the card, and to her credit she didn't make any faces.

"I have to call your parents, if you want to do this. I’m sorry, but I’ve never sold anything like this to someone so young."

"My father already knows, ma'am. I asked for permission before I came. I doubt you can reach him. He travels every day, and my mother's in the hospital."

The woman from the back said. "Perhaps you should call the school?"

The look on my face told them that I didn't want them to do that, I was sure, but I didn't say not to. I understood.

"Are you sure you can afford this much?" Mrs. Sommes asked, now as worried for me as she was about anything else.

I nodded. I almost told her my dad could, but hesitated to be so open.

I was sure the other woman wanted to refuse but she took the card and swiped it while entering the total. She seemed surprised when 'approved' popped up instantly.

Mrs. Sommes looked over her shoulder before speaking to me. "I will have to verify the sale with the company that issued the card." I think she was trying to give me the chance to back out. "They don't give us any information but they will confirm so that we are protected."

I wanted to say that it was my card. "I understand." I tried to look as if I did this all the time.

She picked up the phone and dialed, before turning about to look at me. I tried to look in the cases in front of me but my eyes just naturally rose by themselves to watch her back. I didn't blame her, because she was very nice about it, but it still made me feel bad.

I heard the words 'verify', and 'minor', and 'such a large purchase.'

I saw her eyes dim a little as she said, "I'll hold."

She covered the mouthpiece and mouthed "I'm sorry."

I nodded. Obviously my expression had not been as nonchalant as I’d hoped.

"Hi, this is… Oh." She listened for a moment. "So you are already aware…" She nodded into the phone, like most people will, then her brows lifted. "I see. Thank you. Oh, you're welcome. Of course we would check. Thank you."

She was looking at me, as oddly as the other woman was looking at her.

"Chris, come on in the back. I won't charge for the piercing. Technically we can do this for a sixteen year old without their mother but only in the ears. Are you sure you want to do this? I'm still a little uncomfortable."

"Yes, I am."

As I walked, I heard the other woman whisper. "What?"

"Unlimited." Mary said quietly.

 
 

 
 

     Getting your ears pierced doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Mary and the other girl, Stephanie I think, just talked a lot about what I wanted, the larger one in the lower ear, and the smaller just above and behind. I also told them that I always liked the idea of three earrings in each ear, if they fit, which cause them to tug and feel my earlobes again. Finally, they pulling out a pen and a little plastic gauge.

Even they said they were pretty, once they were in. The girl, Stephanie, asked if I wanted to wear the necklace. I said no. I liked the locket my Mother had given me just fine.. However, Mary surprised me by taking the necklace out of the box and slipping it around my neck. She dropped it inside my turtleneck. “It’s safer.” She said.

Then, they spent so much time lecturing me on how to keep the piercings clean, it was after two o’clock before she would let me off the chair.

I stopped to look in one of the oval magnifying mirrors near the register as they gathered my stuff. I smiled apologetically as, on impulse, I pulled out the compact and lip-gloss and then the mascara.

Stephanie just said "Unbelievable." before she walked away.

I didn't look up, as I quickly put on just a little mascara, but Mary said softly to me, "I’m sorry. I'll talk to her."

When I thanked her for a good-bye, she just said "Good luck, Chris,” as she handed me a little bag with the boxes and the bracelet.

 
 

 
 

      I'd never thought I'd be so late, but it was almost fifteen minutes after two when I got to the door of The Style Palace. I walked in and instantly got the attention of everyone there. Some women looked away quickly enough, but some continued to stare, even as a dark haired woman walked up to me briskly from the other side of the room.

"You Chris?"

"Yes, ma'am. I 'm sorry I'm late, I got…"

"That's Okay." She said and, once she was close, leaned over and finished softly with, "I kind of thought you wouldn't show up at all."

She looked around at the faces watching us.

"The computer's back here. The damned thing picked up some kind of boogieman. A thousand dollar paperweight. Come on, I don't have much time."

I answered "Ma'am?" I didn't have any idea of what she was talking about but I followed her even without hope of actually catching up.

Once in the office, she didn't even sit down before turning. "Sorry. More bad news than the local paper and CNN together, in here.” She was looking me over just like everyone else. "You know why I asked you to stop in?"

I mumbled "Because you are so busy on Saturday?" I asked hopefully.

She smiled "Well that too, I suppose. You said you go wanted to have us give you the works treatment but you also said you were calling from the school up the road. That's got to be Saint A's. I really appreciate your being honest and telling me that you are a boy. Of course, I'd have never figured that out on my own." Her smile became an impish grin.

I nodded, glad that she had said it pleasantly.

"I don't really care, most of the time, but you sounded pretty young. You also called just in time and I have an opening a little later in the day on Saturday but I've got a full book for Saturday morning. So, if you are playing a joke, I'm just not interested."

"No, ma'am. I'm not."

"I'm Jessie, and don't you ever call me ma'am again. I'm not that old and I might just sock you."

"I'm sorry, ma … Jessie."

"Better. You said your hair might be too short, so I wanted to see it while I still had time to give the slot away."

She ran her fingers though it, tugging it at the back, to make sure it was really attached, I suppose.

"At least you use conditioner."

"Yes, m … Jessie…"

"Good one." she responded without looking away from my hair.

I tried to explain. "I got a little bottle in the mall and it said to use it every day and …"

"Good. I think your hair is long enough and plenty thick enough that we won't have any problem. Are you sure you want to do this? I mean nice makeup and all but are you sure?"

"Yes. Very sure."

"You said you had a picture?"

I pulled out the leaf from a magazine. It had a nice style to it, I thought, and the girl looked really cute.

"I need your advice though." I said softly. I expected her to laugh at me.

"Humph!" She said looking at it and at me. "Believe it or not, that's kind of the thing that I would have done for you anyway had it been up to me. How did you pick this picture?"

She had my chin, to look at my ears. She seemed to be about to reach for them, when she asked. "Are these new, or are they infected? Your lobes are red?"

"New. I just got them for the dance."

"Must be nice." She made a pucker like a whistle but didn't make any noise. She looked at the picture and frowned.

"You haven't told me why you picked this style?" She asked again, abruptly.

"I just like it and I think that girl looks a little like me, so I thought it might work. She looks happy." I added quickly for reasons that Doctor Cross would have to explain.

"She does. This is a good style I'd say, but the color." She shook her head. "It's good but this is a dye and highlights. I'd say no, but it's cute, it's perfect, and you have such pretty eyes. Did you know that girl's eyes, and boy's eyes are just the same, especially when they are young?"

I nodded that I did.

"Well the first thing is, that I don't have anything like the time to do anything like this on Saturday. Can you come back…" She closed her eyes. "around four?"

She wanted to dye my hair today! I was trying to think of some way, but…

"Or even better, tomorrow, late. I may not have the time to do both today and I’d like to get it all done before Saturday."

"Tomorrow is better. I have that day off, too." I said tripping over myself not to have to hide the evidence for another day.

"Must be nice, too. Okay, Chris, but, if you're late tomorrow, don't bother to show up on Saturday, because you won't get a seat. I only have two private areas and I won't wait for you. I assume you've got bucks aplenty?"

I nodded my agreement to her conditions. "I won't be late, Jessie, and I have a card."

"If you catch a ride, you can park in the back and come in that way." She seemed to understand.

"Your school's executioner will be here in the morning tomorrow or I'd suggest you have a ride with her, but I'm booked then too." She giggled.

"Ma'am?"

"Not good, Chris. About as not good as you with a buzz-cut in about a minute."

"I'm sorry. Jessie." I said quickly.

"Okay. I'll let you live." She grinned again "This time. I'm talking about your Mrs. Pierce. I asked her what she did one time, and she told me she ran the dungeon at Saint Andrew's - Assistant to the Chief Executioner. I think she'd had a good day."

Mrs. Pierce. She had to have recognized the name of the Style Palace.

"Several of the women from the school get their hair done here, Chris. I'm not going to lose a good customer over this, am I?"

I sighed, even though I knew I was blushing now for real. "I don't think so, Jessie. Mrs. Pierce knew where I was going. She had to sign my pass."

"Really?" She said raising one brow. "Humph! Always thought she had a good sense of humor." She shook her head again and handed the picture back. "Okay, get out, and call me tomorrow. Two of those ladies are coming in the morning, so don't come in earlier."

"Thank you for doing this, Jessie."

"I wouldn't turn one person away just because another didn't like it."

She looked at me for a moment with a funny look on her face.

She leaned over closer, as if she were going to whisper, and asked much more loudly, "Is there anything else?"

I jumped. "Well, I…"

"Spit it out, Chris. I'm a really important person, you know. " She laughed when she said it.

"Makeup. I have some, but I've read that places like this do makeup, too. If someone could help a little…"

She looked at me. "Where did you get what you are wearing?"

"This is just…"

"It looks nice, Chris. You need more mascara though." She started signing with each word. I don't think they were real sign language, because it looked so funny, and because we were both laughing at that point.

"Where. Did. You. Get. It?" The last 't' was a whole word in itself.

"At the Mall. There was a girl. Donna, I think."

"Ah!" She said, and leaned back to hit a button on the phone. "Rachel?"

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Rachel sounded bored.

"The book, and you won't think it's so funny when I make you call me that."

Turning back she asked. "Where in the Mall?"

"Macy's, m… Jessie. There was a girl there. I think they did makeovers too but I don't think she really…" I didn't want to finish.

She looked up. At first I thought to measure me for a buzz but she only asked, "Donna?"

"Yes. I think so. Do you know her?"

The receptionist, Rachel, leaned in and handed Jessie the book, looked at me like I'd just materialized out of thin air, and was gone.

After she’d already left, Jessie said. "Thanks Rache. Donna works here too, Chris. Would you like her to help you? We can do it. We don't get as many requests for makeup at a dance like this. Most of the girls your age can do their own, or their friends help. Still I don't suppose any of the boys would help you?" She was shaking her head and making a prune face.

I had to giggle.

"Well, Donna is on but I'll have to see if she can stay a little later. I think she works at Macy's just about every Friday and Saturday, the poor kid."

"I don't…" I started to say but decided to stop. "If someone else is available, that's okay."

Jessie looked at me without any sympathy at all.

"Don't judge her too harshly. I'm sure I understand, but she actually has a talent for this stuff. She could be out in Hollywood right now, if she had gotten any chance to finish school.

"She has a son. Some shit who pretty much raped her in her first year of college, Chris. She works almost every day, now. Her prick parents threw her out, and if it were not for her grandmother taking her in and watching Billy, she'd be toast. I let her sell the makeup here, and work whenever she can, but it’s not nearly enough help.

"Two years ago, she laughed more and smiled more than even I do." She wrinkled her nose, to take some of the sting out, and flipped the pages to write something in the book.

I understood. "I'm, sorry, Jessie. I feel bad. I just thought she didn't like me."

"I kind of figured. In all fairness this," she pointed at me, "someone such as yourself only happens to one of us a few times a year."

"I'm pretty sure she thought I was a girl, at first."

"Really? Well then you must have been late, and pissed her off too!"

She grinned and leaned down to look right into my eyes, like I was a little kid.

"Now, you are sure this is what you want? If one of those boys thinks you are too pretty, and he kicks your ass, I'm going to be completely pissed after all the work I'm putting in."

I blushed again. "No, ma'am. They all like me. They've seen me before. All the guys are very nice to me. None of them would ever do anything like that. Mrs. Pierce is awesome too."

She kissed my cheek!

"You are so cute. I'll just bet she is." She said, running her fingers through my hair again.

"Thank you, Jessie."

"No problem. However! You called me ma'am again, so get out. Call me tomorrow, mid-afternoon."

"I'm sorry, I ..."

"Yeah, yeah. You are very polite, and you can't help it, and they warped your little mind. Get out anyway." She grinned at me and headed back toward a lady in a chair.

I looked at my phone, and couldn't believe it was only two thirty. It had felt like a two-hour Latin mid-term

 
 

 
 

My very special thanks to Geoff for his invaluable time and advice.

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

 
 

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Chapter VIII

 
 
 

     I wanted to check out a store up the street with women's underwear in its window, so I started walking that way looking in windows as I went. None inspired until I finally reached Francine's Intimates, when I saw that there was another store just beyond it with a beautiful dress in the window.

I looked at the sign, which read, ‘Annabella's: Elegance Remembered. Vintage and Consigned Classics.’

The window held what looked like a dress from the mid 1800's. I had to go in.

Inside there were all kinds of clothes, some in racks along the wall but many on display. Obviously it was a season for dresses, because most of those up front were ornate and beautiful gowns.

I must have been looking the other way when riding past here.

Off to one side, one woman was talking to another quietly. They looked busy, so I just started wandering around. I looked first at the dresses up front, which gave the women the time to see me. I just waved that I was in no hurry. I had time now, so I just wandered and looked.

There were dresses of every kind and I was fascinated to see some things that I'd only seen in movies and books. Most of them were more recent than the gowns up front but there was one section of clothes from what looked like the forties. I'd always loved those styles and I couldn't help but reach out to touch.

Some of them surprised me because a couple felt so rough and scratchy. Really scratchy. Others were even more toward the other extreme. One blouse was so silky smooth I could hardly pick it up.

Not paying attention, I almost wandered into the dressing area, which embarrassed me. It must have also caught the shopkeeper's eye, because someone was coming up behind me fast.

"Hi there. You get lost on the way to the vid…?"

I turned around.

"Oh, excuse me Miss, I'm sorry. I saw your jeans, and I assumed you were a…"

Behind her, the older woman, who I'd assumed was the one who worked there, was walking out the door. The thirty-something woman in front of me looked back at her departure and said "Damn."

She was looking at me now, not unpleasantly but not ecstatically either, as she said "Hi, I'm Anna. Do you need some help?"

"I'm sorry. Did that woman leave because of me?"

Anna shook her head. "God, no. She does that every week or so. She wants that dress over there but she expects me to alter it, deliver it, iron it, put it on her, and then write her a check." She laughed. "She's done it for as long as the shop's been opened. She'll be back when she realizes I won't budge. She can afford it easily; she just likes to play the game."

She smiled, which made me feel better.

"That's good. I thought she left because I was a…"

"What? Fashion challenged? Those jeans do make a statement. I thought you were…"

So much for not blushing as much.

Anna stopped and looked at me. "Oh my." She said softly.

I have no idea how long she looked at me, but it was a long time and not a second of it did anything to cool my face and neck.

When she spoke it was very kindly, motherly almost.

"You didn't come in here by accident did you?"

I shook my head.

"Ah. I see." She said and just looked at me some more before saying, "Would you like a drink of water?"

When I squeaked "No," it must have been pretty unconvincing, because she led me back to a water cooler anyway.

I drank.

"You know," she said to me. "if not for those jeans, I wouldn't have guessed."

I wanted to say thank you but I wasn't sure it was appropriate.

"So, what can I do for you, assuming I haven't scared you more than half to death. I'm Anna, again, by the way." She held out her hand.

"I'm Chris." I said back. "Thank you for the drink. I must have gotten a dry throat or something."

Anna nodded.

"I need a dress for school. I have one that I can use but, since I had some time, I wanted to look for one on my own."

"I see." She said. Then immediately she followed it with "No, I don't see… For school?" She looked really puzzled now. "The Winter Ball at Saint Andrew's?"

"You know?"

"Of course I know." She walked over to the counter, and pulled out a paper from a notebook, and read it. "Modern gowns are allowed but must be of formal length. No tea or shorter length dresses will be appropriate. Given the theme and the styles of music and dance, dresses more appropriate to the waltz era should be seriously considered as a first choice…" She looked at me. "Yada, yada, No leather, rubber, vinyl, or see through anything. We've known about it for weeks. Isn't it this Saturday? Day after tomorrow?"

"Yes, ma'am, Anna." I stumbled a little. " I already have a dress to wear but I thought I'd like to look at these."

She looked at me for several moments then.

"You are from Saint A's? " she asked.

I nodded.

She looked at me some more. "Are those real?"

I nodded again, and reached into the collar of the turtleneck, and slipped out the pendant necklace. It might help if she saw.

"Very pretty." She said. Then reached out to hold the pendant in her fingers and then to feel the weight of the chain.

I could only look at her silently.

She just lowered the pendant softly and looked right back.

I guess you can only take so much on any given day. I knew this kind of thing was bound to happen, but I was feeling like I just wanted to go.

"Excuse me, ma'am. I'm sorry for bothering you. I'll just get out of your way."

Her hand was on my shoulder.

"You don't have to do that. I've just never had a, well a boy as young as you, in here. The forties fashions are pretty popular with the guys" She smiled and shrugged. "Besides, the dance is in two days. You are out of time already." She sighed and then looked at me in a whole different way.

"I can tell you've worn makeup before but, if I'm not mistaken, you have never been to a formal dance in a dress." She didn't smile. " Have you?"

I shook my head.

"Do you know what size you are?"

I shook my head.

"Oh, God. You aren't going to get me in trouble here, are you?"

I shook my head. "I've worn skirts at the school before. I helped to teach the guys how to dance."

She looked funny at that but said, "Come on over here for a mo'."

I walked meekly behind her as she headed over to the little counter.

"Here, give me those. Chris, is it?" I nodded and let her take the bag, which she tucked under the counter somewhere.

"Okay, hold your arms like this, sweetie and let me check a few things.

She spent a couple of minutes running a tape over various parts of my body.

"How old are you?" she asked suddenly.

"I turned sixteen in November."

"You are so lucky you look so young.” She made small-talk as she measured. “I had a cousin who used to get so upset because folks thought he was so much younger than he was but I can tell you that girls about five years older than you really like that and those ten years older than you spend billions every year trying to get it back." She started pulling my shirt out, and I had to help her, before she ran the tape around my middle again.

"Cheese and crackers, you'd be small for a girl your age." She stopped to look at me again.

"I'm sorry, if…"

She waved my apology away. "Don't be silly. I thought only smart kids went to that school. That's a good thing that you are so small. A very good thing."

I sighed and said. "I didn't know. Some of us kids just have a lot of money."

Anna laughed like it was really funny.

"So you have a lot of money. Great, 'cause the dresses like you want are mostly so beat up they’re only good for museums and the ones that still look nice enough to wear cost an arm and a leg."

I felt a little embarrassed and unconsciously felt the pendant hanging at my throat as I looked down at the floor.

She chortled a little. "Point taken, Chris. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. Can I take it that, if I can find something really nice, I don't have to worry about money? Please say yes. Please say yes."

I couldn't help but grin. "It's Okay."

"Well all right then. I suppose the worst thing that can happen is your mother makes you bring the dress back. I'll try not to jump up and down, if you promise not to faint if I actually have something that fits the bill. Kindly follow me, Miss Chris." She grinned and I followed like I was told.

"As I was saying, it's really very good that you are tiny. It monumentally increases the risk of other woman wanting to kill you when they see how cute you are going to be, but what most people don't fully realize is that women were much smaller, even seventy years ago, than they are now. Much smaller.

She walked right past the rack and into the back room.

I hesitated at the door causing her to look back and hurry me on.

"Come on, Little Miss. We need you for this. Now can you tell me what you are wearing underneath?"

I flushed a little again. "Aaahm. Pan--"

"Panties?" She asked, smiling.

I nodded. Again.

"Don't be shy, Chris. I'm going to help you if I can and I wear panties every day. Is that all you have on for under things?" She asked, trying to make nothing of it.

"I have a t-shirt too."

"Great. You go in there." She pointed out the dressing area, which looked like an open hall from back here.

"I'll be right back. Hurry now."

I walked into one of the changing rooms and drew the curtain. I was surprised that it had a small plant and a round rug under a nice chair, as well as several mirrors. I began to slip off my shoes.

"Are you shy, Chris?" She asked from the other side of the curtain.

"Yes." I said, sorry that it was so true.

"Funny, but me too. I hate going to the doctor but I'm going to have to help you a little. Here." She handed a package, which looked a lot like the slips I already had, past the curtain.

"Thank you." I said.

"When you need help you tell me, Okay?"

"I will."

"When you have that on and your panties, just come out here to the back room where the carpet is. I'll be right here."

I spent the time that I needed to take out the makeup too. The first thing I did was to put on another thick coat of mascara, followed by just a little more of the face powder. I hesitated to put on the lipstick in place of the gloss, because of the dresses, but I did.

I looked around and I realized that although the lights hung down only a couple of feet above our heads, there was actually another level of racks much higher up.

"Anna?"

"Right over here, Chris." She walked around the end of one rack, pulling a smaller rack on wheels with several dresses on it. "Because time is so short, I'll do most of the picking at first. I've seen all of these in the last week because most of the girls who came in here have looked them over."

"They already picked them over?"

Anna laughed. "Well they tried. The fact is that they are too small for most of the girls nowadays and that's also a good thing for you. If I get something that's a size six or, god help us, an eight, like the dresses out front, eighty percent of the time they are in much worse condition. They get worn. The smaller the better, believe me. Now a size four is pretty rare now, so those few we have…, here you are!" She said from somewhere back there. "… are usually pretty darned nice."

She came toward me. Some of the things were just on hangers but most were in garment bags..

As soon as she came into the light and saw me, she said "Wow. Very nice, Chris. Hair? For the dance? Any plans?"

She took a couple of seconds at the rack, while I ran and got the picture in my purse.

She held it up beside my face and nodded.

"Very nice. I like the reddish color and the highlights. Now I want you to trust me a little. You said the dress you have is blue? How blue?"

"It's a really dark royal blue in a velvet like material. It catches the light."

"Yes, that would be good, especially when your hair has some color. Any trim or accents?"

"Not really.”

She smiled. "Can I assume it's one of the dresses in the drama department?"

I felt funny admitting it but I nodded.

"I thought so. You see, I've worked on lots of the dresses up at the school and the shop here even sold many of them."

My eyes must have widened a little.

Anna continued "My mother did too, before me. She told me that, in the old days, when they put on a play up at Saint Andrew's, there were as many female parts as there were male. Now they have one or two 'girls' but in the old days, it was just more expected."

"I know." I said softly, as she began to unhook the first dress from its hanger.

"Anyway, I was just wondering what kind of thing you were thinking about, because I wanted to know more of what you like. I think, if I check the rack by the door, I may have just gotten in a very pretty dress that's in a similar dark blue color but in silk."

"Really?" I asked her, surprised.

"Really. I only took it from the woman who came in with it, because I thought it would look good in the window for a few weeks but I also thought it was too small and expensive ever to sell. It belonged to a woman who used to work on the stage in New York and she had several of them that were put into really good storage by the company that produced the musical she was in."

"Do you want me to try it on?" I asked, feeling a little apprehensive.

"Not yet. This is my size four." She pulled out a green colored gown. "I want to check your size. It’s faster than trying to convert measurements to various sizes. Hands up."

I held my hands up, and she dropped the green dress over my arms and head.

"I don't like…" I tried to say as I turned toward the mirror.

"Neither do I. Shhhh!"

She was measuring again., and pulling the loose parts of the gown looser, then tighter. Then she did the same all over again.

"I can measure you with a tape but measuring some of these old dresses can be a nightmare. I already know which ones kind of fit like each of these. You have a nice waist and you actually have good hips but the top is problem."

She shook her head, unzipped it, and said, "Drop it to the floor and step out Chris."

She swept it up immediately and put it on a hanger.

"Okay, I have this and it's one of the expensive ones, so we need to be very careful." She unzipped one of the garment bags, and drew out a cream-colored gown, almost a yellow, the color was so rich. It was very pretty.

"Now, I want to look at this. It's one of the nicest we have but it has two problems. Your choice of a darker color was a better one for so late in the season and your colors. It doesn't get much attention, except for one girl, who bought another one that fit better. Oh, and this one would need a very heavy petticoat or even a small hooped skirt, but the top is much smaller than most of the others. I think it was made for a much younger girl who was tall, really."

She turned to me and grinned. "So. Stick 'em up."

It was pretty but she was right it looked too much like Spring. It was really pretty though. I turned to look in the large mirror. I looked like an extra from ‘Gone With The Wind’.

I couldn't keep my eyes off the mirror for several moments until I realized that Anna was looking more at my face than at the dress from where she knelt pulling the skirt into shape.

"Aaahm." I said, cleverly. "You said that your mother used to do this too?"

"Only after she retired. She used to be a pattern maker when we lived in New York. Do you know what that is?"

I had to shake my head and try to keep my eyes off of the mirror.

"If you have a Spring formal, like the Winter one, I'm saving this for you, because it's a perfect fit."

Even I could see that it fit like it had been made for me.

"Okay. Drop it and please try not to step on the skirt. Where was I…? Oh. A pattern maker is someone who can turn a sketch or a picture into a real dress or alter one to suit. They take the idea and make it a real garment. You know…"

She began to wave her hands and speak in a silly peevish French accent.

"Ma Chris. Zis iz all wrong. The fabric should drape and flow in ze exaggerated way that I am moving my arms. Za skirt is on upside down, and ze front should be in ze back. Make it práªt -T."

I was laughing so much, I was afraid I would step on the dress.

"You get the idea. Mom could see something once and make it. She also used to make garments for theater companies and such. When she’d had enough, we moved up here to New England, where she did much the same thing, but under a lot less stress. Custom clothes, and old clothes, alterations. She left the store to my sister and me."

She took the dress, and said "Okay, I'll be right back.

She was back in a few minutes, carrying another bag:

"This just came back from the cleaners and I wanted to check it but I never got the chance. They didn't want to touch it at first but I've done a lot of business there and they did me a favor."

"They didn't want to touch it? Why" I asked, but she just smiled at me as she hung the bag on the rack, before stripping it.

I could only stare. The dress was a royal blue and I could tell it was a silk because, wherever the light hit it, it seemed to change colors from an almost metallic sky blue, to a rich midnight hue. It had much more color than the velvet. It was beautiful.

"Oh, my." I heard myself say.

"Exactly." She said. "Fortunately it was actually crated and stored in some expensive storage places down in New York because they were planning on doing the play on the road but it never happened.”

"What do you call this?" I said moving closer.

"You can touch it." She smiled at me, and ran her hand over the front to show me that it was indeed possible. The fabric had a rich texture that made it silky smooth to rub your hand side to side, but much rougher to do so up and down.

"What do they call this?" I asked again, not taking my eyes off the dress.

"The woman who owns it described it as a silk georgette and gauze over crepe de chine. I don't think that's a georgette style because the skirt is too full. The gauze is unusual too, because usually they make it a whole separate layer that's just lays loosely over the skirt, but in this one it's been tacked to the heavier silk of the skirt about two thirds of the way down."

"And here?" I asked looking at the detail on the bodice.

"That's the unusual part. The majority of the pattern is a pretty standard silk embroidery. Nice to be sure but not that unusual. The amazing part is that if you look here. This little floral motif has been hand painted onto the fabric. I've see it only a few times before and I think someone told me it was common in Europe at one time. Amazing."

She was looking at the dress, just as I was.

She turned to me and smiled. "You ready?"

I wanted to shout heck yeah!

Anna giggled.

"But I'm…"

"Listen, Chris. This dress was made to be worn. It probably has not been for almost fifty years. Don't forget too, that silk is tough. The Samurai used to make armor out of it."

"How much."

"Well the woman wanted over two thousand dollars for it. She thought that because some actress no one remembers wore it that it is worth a lot. She's probably right, so I told her that she should pack it off to one of those museums for such memorabilia and wait for someone to make an offer."

She lifted the dress, and said. "Go stand on the carpet."

Somehow I felt very nervous.

"Now don't' get too excited. No one's tried it on and I can't even be sure how it might fit and for heaven's sake, watch the makeup."

I nodded that I would.

She slipped it over my head. It was even more lovely than it had promised to be.

Anna had to take my shoulders and move them gently from side to side, to let us both see how the light played on the gown. I was frozen in place.

"Wow." she said softly.

I realized that my eyes were bigger than normal when I nodded my head, and closed my mouth.

"Okay, Cross your fingers. Here goes…"

She tried to zip the dress, but after three gentle tugs she said "Damn." with as much feeling as I'd yet heard.

I felt like crying. "The zipper's broken?" I practically begged for it not to be so.

"No, but it's an old metal zipper, and it's a little, Oh I don't know. Not rusted, but it has that grey rough stuff all over it that makes it not want to slide. It will go. Hang on, I have an idea."

"Oxidized." I said.

She hurried over to a table, where some things were piled and said. "Ah. Thread wax!"

She went behind me and said. "Hold still.”

She began tugging again and I heard the zipper move.

"Okay. Cross your toes too this time." She said as it slid to the top.

"The waist is a little tight but its really good that it closes." She said quickly. "You might do with something to smooth your tummy."

She began the tugging thing again, and mumbled for several moments as she ran her hands here and there, before she walked back over to the little table again.

She came back with three books that looked like old ledgers. "Here she said, placing three on the floor in front of me and indicating that I should step on them.

She spent several moments playing with the skirt before saying. "No, step off." I drifted back, while she removed one book and then gestured for me to get back on.

"Better" She said, this time. "You need a little heel to keep the dress just off the floor. About two inches would do it, but you'd have to make sure they were comfortable because this thing will get heavy."

She stood back and looked and I held my breath.

"It's good. The only problem is here." She stepped to me, and gently slipped her hand palm out into the top front of the bodice. "Some dresses I can take up, but not this. It's not that bad but it is noticeable."

I felt crushed and it must have showed.

"Don't worry. I've got lots of tricks and a few aces up my sleeve."

She stepped to the door that I took to be the delivery area, leaned in, and called loudly. "Oh, Fancy Fanny? I need you!"

I heard someone on the other side before I saw the same woman walk through the door… Twins.

"Anna, how many time must I ask you not to call me Fanny…?" She saw me and said. "I didn't know you had a customer. Oh my God." She stopped to look at me.

"Where did that come from? Is that the dress you told me about?" The new one?" asked Anna.

"That's it. Chris here just wandered into the shop look to look for a dress to go to a ball.”

The new one just shook her head at Anna, who then smiled at me and said. "Chris, this is Sally, My baby sister. She runs the lingerie side."

"Baby sister. Right! By all of three minutes." She smiled and held out her hand blindly as she leaned to touch the skirt before she stood up to smile at my expression. "No, we are not twins. I was adopted. Please God, I was adopted!" She continued to smile.

Anna smiled too. "Stop that will you. I need your help."

Anna slipped her hand back into the top hem of the bodice again, and showed Sally what she was worried about. What followed was a conversation between them in no known language, during which they examined the dress all over, unzipped it and looked at the back, and then began looking all over again.

It sounded like a pair of some New Guinea tribesman speaking in a series of clicks and hums and grunts. At least until Anna stood up, and looked at me, before she asked Sally, "Well?"

"You can't pad the shoulders or take it in at the back?" Sally asked her in response

"Only if I drank a lot more, and had about a month." She sighed "No way I'd even touch it anywhere else."

"Okay." Sally said. "Help me get her out of it."

Anna looked at me for a moment. I was so amazed by them, that I didn't even get it when she arched her eyebrows.

Anna spoke. "Chris, she's going to find out when she helps you."

Anna grunted and I nodded, before turning to look at Sally the younger.

"Him." Anna said. "Or mostly him. It's hard to tell."

Sally just looked at her, then me, and then back at her.

"No kidding?" She finally said. "Wow."

Soon I felt like I was in a phone booth with three other people. They pulled the dress off me, though and the feeling became one of being more naked than I'd ever been even though I was covered from shoulders to ankles by the slip.

Sally took the tape and began measuring all over again.

"So. You two are sisters?" I asked weakly.

Both laughed.

"I'll be right back." Sally said.

Anna, grinning, dragged me to the dressing area.

Then, Sally said "Here," and handed me a garment through the only partially closed curtain. "Oh! Take off the slip."

She made no attempt to close the curtain but stood there watching me somewhere about my middle.

"Do you need help? Chris, right?" She asked as Anna came back through smiling at me on her way past.

"No, ma'am"

"If you like, you can call Anna, ma'am, and me Sally. She be really old."

Noises came over the partition from the back room.

"Here,” she said again

"Now step into this." She held the black garment just above the floor, and waited for me to put my hand on her shoulder and step in.

"Is that a bustier?" I asked.

"A girdle." She looked up at me, surprised at my ignorance at first, but then smiled a little. "It's called a body briefer, now watch. You get it straight on your thighs... and then you pull... ugmph, it up to the bust." She said, doing it, and nearly lifting my feet off the floor.

It was tight but not uncomfortably so. "This will smooth your tummy a little, which will put more of the weight on your hips and give us someplace to work."

She then surprised me by pulling out a pair of fake boob gel silicone type things, and began to work them into the top of the body thing. My posture went a lot stiffer as I shied away but I didn't think she noticed until she said "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you, you silly thing."

"Okay, come on." She said and led me to the back area again, where they both held up the dress to slip it on.

"Oh, there. That's much better." Anna said to Sally, and then looked at me in the mirror.

"What's wrong, Chris?" Anna asked frowning.

I felt myself blushed furiously and shook my head. I'd crossed my arms over my shoulder and chest before I realized I had.

"You don't need to be shy. Lots of guys like…" Sally started to say.

"No," Anna said to her sister. "he's been fine."

She looked for a minute and I tried not to look at the floor. The dress looked amazing.

"Chris, I can't fix it if you won't tell me." Anna urged..

"I'm Okay. It's just…"

"Just what?" She coaxed.

"There are..." I touched the larger bust line of the bodice with my hands and tried to explain. "Things."

"Gel pads. They will warm up in about a minute." Sally told me, shaking her head.

I didn't say anything, just blushed.

"Does that bother you?" Anna asked.

I nodded and blushed a lot more, before I could talk. "I'm sorry. I just don't…" I took a breath and tried to make some sense. "It makes me feel really uncomfortable."

Anna and her sister looked at each other for several moments before they looked back at me. I thought they might be confused but, when they looked back, Sally's expression was blank, and Anna's was more of sympathy.

Sally kind of mumbled. "I'm sorry. When you got all nervous like that, I just thought…" She might even have blushed. "I mean we have men come in sometimes…"

She might have blushed, but I certainly was. "No ma'am. I know… about how some guys feel. It's not like that with me. I just want to go to the dance."

Sally looked at both of us. "Anna, would you." She gestured to me. "I'll be right back,” she said while she walked back through the door between the shops.

Anna came close to unzip the top of the dress, and quietly said "Hold still."

She slipped her hand into the top, and pulled the prosthetics out. I couldn't help but shiver when she did.

"It's Okay, Chris. She just didn't realize."

"Its not anyone's fault but mine." I told her. "I'm sorry, Anna. I know you must think I'm nuts but it just feels so weird that it makes me squeamish. I'll get changed. I didn't mean to be so much trouble."

"What?" Anna frowned. "Chris this is just what we do. You haven't been any trouble." She sighed. "It's not unusual that when a girl starts go grow, you know ... well, sometimes they have a hard time with it. For some they feel like their body is out of control and for others they just feel like people are going to be staring at them all the time." She looked toward heaven for a second. "The second is unfortunately true."

We both smiled a little, me in apology, and her in sympathy, as she continued, "The truth is, that most of the time when we use them, it's for someone who already has a body image they are used to. Not to put something there that they never had. Even then, most women are uncomfortable with it at first. We both understand."

I thanked her. "You are very nice to understand."

"Chris. My mother and I used to dress models for fashion shows. This is nothing in comparison. Nothing." She told me earnestly

I nodded. "I'm sorry. I know you are just trying to make the dress fit, and it's not your fault that it felt like someone dropped a mouse down my shirt." I tried to smile and she did.

"Eeewh." She said, and looked toward the door.

I asked, "Can you do anything?"

Sally came in, walking toward me with a package instead of a box this time. "Sorry, Chris. I just didn't realize. Here, look at these." She handed me a thin, fabric covered, foam pad of some kind. "We use these to help fit things, or to make one side different…"

She smiled when I frowned.

"Yes that does happen, often, and they are just for fitting. They attach inside the dress directly too, but if you wear any kind of cup, we need to have something."

"Okay." I told her. They seemed just like some of the pads I'd seen in women's clothes before.

"May I." She asked and I nodded to show that I wasn’t uncomfortable with her.

Several minutes of tugging, even having Anna unzip the dress and pulling the front down to check the construction. Then they zipped me up, and stood back.

"Well?" Sally asked, Anna. At first I thought they were asking me what I thought but I might have been a mannequin.

Anna was just staring at the dress, rubbing her lips with an index finger.

"I can do it, I think. There's a little material that can take darts along side the zipper. A generous seam allowance isn't unusual for something that's worn as a costume."

Then she looked at me.

"I may need to tack in a layer or two of material, right in here, though, just to hold the pads and such." She spread her fingers and moved her hand in the air from shoulder to shoulder. "Is that all right?"

"I trust you."

Then Sally asked the same question all the adults did, if only with their eyes. "Chris, I have to ask, why are you doing this?"

"I don't really know. I'd like to go to the dance I suppose. I helped to teach the other guys, so I'd really like to be there."

"Are you going to dance with the boys or the girls?" Sally asked.

"Oh god, Fanny!" Anna said.

"What?!" She snapped back.

"What difference does it make? As long as he looks nice, does it matter?"

"No. I just..." Sally shrugged.

I probably should have stood mute but I said. "Both. Mostly the girls, I hope, but if one of the boys asks me, I'll dance with them."

"Really?" They both said in unison.

"Of course." I answered, not thinking it was something they should look so surprised about.

It turned out that Sally's store had all of the things I needed, which she gave me at less than the marked price. Eleven hundred dollars later, including another blouse and skirt, a pair of soft pyjamas, a promise to be back tomorrow and I was on the way back to the school.

 
 

 
 

     As soon as I got back to my room, I called Miss Lynn but she was too busy with boys who needed more practice, so I called Miss Lindsey to let her know I was back for the day. She told me that several of the governors had decided to attend. She sounded about as happy about it as I felt.

Across the grounds you could see the lights of the reception hall burning and people moving. I hoped that they weren't having too much difficulty.

I watched Ivanhoe on TV because I've always thought that Elizabeth Taylor, who played Rebecca, is one of the most beautiful women ever.

Around eleven, after almost everyone was in their rooms, I walked down to fill out another slip about needing more shopping and perhaps seeing a movie.

For a while, I did a few things like clean off my ears with the disinfectant, and try on the pyjamas, which were very nice but I was feeling too tired to do much more than crawl into bed, and wait for Saturday.

 
 

 
 

     After getting up on Friday, I half expected that my father would call but he never did. It was very early, so I made it to the dining room as soon as it opened. One of the ladies was looking at me a little oddly but other than saying good morning, she seemed too busy to take much notice of any changes that might be visible.

I was in a cubicle in the library before most of the guys hit the halls, which was just the way I wanted it. Everyone knew right where I was but everyone left me alone because I was working. I’d learned long ago that the best way to make thing go fast and easy was just to work hard on them, so I managed to complete the rest of the assignments that were listed under my courses. Around noon when I sat back and stretched, it was with a very real sense of freedom, and accomplishment.

Checking my inbox, I found a note from Miss Lindsey, telling me that I was approved, but not to forget to stop by the office, so, confirming the time, I logged out.

Everyone else was at lunch or in class when I headed back to my room. I decided on the same coat, which I'd found was plenty warm, and then looked for a knit hat that I could pull down all the way over my ears. No sooner had I found one, than I heard a chirp from my phone where it sat in the charger.

It was the office number, which was both a relief and a worry.

"Hello." I asked a little tentatively.

"Chris?" Miss Lindsey said. "It's me. I'm just checking your phone."

"Oh. Hello, ma'am."

"Is your phone well charged?" She asked.

"Yes ma'am, I always leave it in the charger."

"Okay. You don't need to bother to come by. If you go straight to the bus stop, you can catch the one that comes by in fifteen minutes if you want."

"Thank you, ma'am. I was just coming down, because I was hoping to leave early." I explained.

"Hang on…"

I could hear Mrs. Pierce in the background "Is that the caterer? Oh? Well tell him to call if he has any problem and then I need you to get the caterer on the phone. Tell her that we do indeed have several European students attending Saint Andrew's, but that does not entitle them to be served wine at their tables. Tell her that if she'll identify the particular royal in question, I'll give her first crack at catering his wake. Got it?"

"Chris?" I heard more loudly. "I'm sure you heard. I'll log you out here. Be careful and call us if you need anything and, if you're going to be later than about nine, let me know."

"Thank you, Miss Lindsay. I will."

"You’re welcome, Chris."

The line went dead, and I pulled the hat on, and headed for the door.

 
 

 
 

     To my surprise, two of the other guys were at the bus stop already. I didn't know them very well, so when they sat together in a seat, I was happy to find one of my own.

Anna was busy when I got to her shop, so I spent a few minutes looking around before I wandered into a dressing room to put on some mascara and gloss.

"Chris? Are you in here?" She called.

"Yes, ma'am." I called out, causing her to step to the curtain, which I pulled aside.

"Oh!" She seemed happy to see me, but busy. "There you are. I thought you might have found something else you liked."

"No, I was just using the mirror and waiting for you to have a few moments free."

"Not much of a shopper, Chris?"

I blushed, a little. "No ma'am." I just shrugged.

Anna laughed and startled me a little.

"I know what you mean but, with me, it's because I'm digging around here all the time. I just let Sally do the shopping. She buys more than enough stuff for the two of us." She rolled her eyes. "Come on."

Once we were back in the work area. I saw the dress on a dummy.

Anna explained. "I finished it last night. Did you bring the under things?"

I felt like such an idiot. I never even thought to bring them; I'd been so pleased that everything was going so well.

Anna just smirked at me and shook her head. "God help me." She said but smiled. "You weren't a scholarship student, I'm guessing."

I could only shake my head and smile apologetically..

"Dressing room. I'll be right back."

 
 

 
 

     "Darn it! Hold this while I get the wax."

I held the front of the dress, and felt her tugging gently several more times before she actually went to the worktable for the wax.

"If you want, I'll replace this zipper, but I think it just needs to be worked a little… there." Her hand rose to the top. "It happens with stage stuff, sometimes. They get changing as fast as they can, and someone jerks the zipper. It's probably just a bent tooth…"

She didn't tug or anything this time. She worked the zipper from top to bottom several times, before she finally zipped it up again, and she just stopped and looked -- obviously very pleased with it herself.

"It's perfect." I whispered.

After several minutes of turning a little from side to side, I stepped down to face her. "Anna. I don't know how I'll ever thank you enough."

"Well, you already did that. Between you and two of the other girls, you guys made my week. Not to mention the extra lingerie I just sold for my sister." She grinned and I did too.

I dressed while watching her carefully pack up the dress.

"You are off to the Palace?" She asked. "Did you find shoes?"

"No. I forgot the shoes. I’ll have to find some.” I said realizing I had more to do. “I'm supposed to call The Palace to find out exactly when, but yes, soon I hope."

Anna was leaning on the form now watching me. "Listen Chris. Over on the wall by the register, I have the clothes that are more recent. Why don't you pick something out to wear to get your hair done."

It gave me pause. "I don't think I should. I know it sounds silly but I promised a friend that I wouldn't wear any girls clothes when I was in town alone."

She just looked at me for several moments. "You've done that?"

"I've only worn them when I was with her."

"Chris, I probably shouldn't butt in, because I understand that your friend is just trying to keep you safe. That is the most important thing. I want to suggest, though, that it might be better if you wore girl’s clothes this time. You are going to the beauty parlor, and you already have makeup on. I think it makes more sense not to wear your old clothes. Even if you take the makeup off, you’ll still have your hair done."

She was right. I had just wanted to see the dress on with me looking more like I should. I could get away with a little mascara and even more while shopping for dresses. The more I did, however, the poorer the idea of walking around the town in my old jeans and shirt. I just didn't want to do something that I told Miss Lynn I wouldn't.

Anna quietly ended. "I think your friend would understand. She can even call me if she doesn't."

I looked in the mirror. I didn't like it but I knew she was right. I was sure Miss Lynn would be more upset if I got into trouble.

"If you decide that's what you want to do, I have some things that would look very nice. I'd like to give them to you as a gift, not only because I appreciate your coming to me for the dress, but more because I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you. If you like, I'd even be happy to walk you down to The Palace, if that's the problem. Sally can watch the place for a couple minutes"

"Okay." I agreed.

"Good. Hang on right there."

I felt funny, and wondered what she'd bring but about a minute later she handed me a pair of black jeans and a white top. She was also holding a pink sweater.

"I can't take so much. I'll pay you for them."

"Yes, you can. Go ahead and change." She smiled, and pushed the sweater in my hands before she pushed me back toward the changing area before heading herself to parts unknown.

"These look new." I said, changing as fast as I could because of the forgotten shoes.

"Fat clothes!" Anna called from somewhere near the back.

"I'm sorry?" I called over the partition.

"Lady I know. Her daughter gained weight right before her winter vacation. When she came in we swapped some stuff."

"Fat clothes." I said to myself. 'Got it.'

I didn't change the under things and the view standing back from the mirror in the work area was much different than the smaller one in the dressing room. In there I could see the clothes. Out here I could see me.

That's where Anna found me when she walked back in. Suddenly I felt a little embarrassed to be staring so I turned toward her.

"Anna, did you see my shoes? Oh." I finished, as she handed my old loafers to me abruptly.

"Marks and Son's, right around the corner. I gave them your size and the girl there is already looking for what you need. Nothing lower than a two-inch heel. Will you be able to do that?"

"Yes. I wore a little heel when I was dancing with the guys because I'm so short." I bent to slip on the shoes.

Anna laughed again. "Assuming I ever see you again, after tomorrow, you really need to explain that to me."

'I will." I promised, standing up and looking at the dress.

"Don't worry about that now. You can't carry it around with you. When you get finished with The Palace, just come back here, and Sally and I will give you a ride back up the road."

"Thank you, ma'am, but I could never impo --"

"Nonsense. You can't get this thing on the bus and it's right on our way. Besides, our old car will probably get you only half way, anyway."

"Ma'am, I…"

"Yes you can. You might also want to wear the shoes that you get, to help break them in. Wearing new shoes like that to a dance is something I only ever did once. Either way, you can drop a pair off by here before you go to The Palace, if you want. I'll keep an eye on them."

"Ma'am I don't know what to say."

"I do. Give me the card before Sally kills me, and you have to walk home!" She grinned.

Less than a minute later she handed it back and I signed.

"Hurry, now. Left out the door and around the corner. Hope is the girl you are looking for. She's really the sweetest thing." She grinned.

"Ma'am, thank you, for everything."

She caught me by he elbow. "No. Thank you, Chris. We do Okay here, but my commission on that dress will probably fix our car, so we really appreciate you too."

I nodded, and headed out feeling a little better. I’d felt bad for spending so much, but the thought that I might actually have helped was a much nicer feeling.

 
 

 
 

     "You Chris?" A girl said at my shoulder. The store had been empty when I came in. I jumped a little, again, which was really starting to annoy me.

I jumped a foot more when I saw her. Sweet Hope, was a Goth girl, spiked hair, spiked collar, and piercings everywhere. It just startled me, but I think she didn't notice.

"Here. Anna called me. Slip these over your own stockings, and try the this pair on… Are you sure of your size?" She said scooping up my old shoe that fell off when she practically pushed me into the chair.

"These are stretched. I'm going to measure you…"

If you had to shop, I suppose this was the way to do it. Hope gave me two nice pairs to choose from that were comfortable and looked nice. I wore the pair she chose for me out of the store. Six minutes, maybe seven. I liked it.

 
 

 
 

     The guys from school who had been on the bus had gone on to the mall, so I didn't worry too much about being seen but as I walked back toward Annabelle's in the heels, I felt the strangeness in every fiber of my being. It was different walking around like this. Fortunately, it was only a short walk and I had to pay some attention to the phone, so I didn’t feel too out of place.

"Hi, I'm Chris Morgan, I am…"

"Hi Chris, It's Rachel. We met yesterday. Hang on…"

I heard someone pick up the phone. "… It's supposed to do that. Just rinse it out… Chris?"

I recognized Jessie.

"Yes, ma… It's me, Jessie, Chris."

"Look, calling me ma'am on a day like today is going to have me beating you up instead of some upperclassman. Jessie, or Goddess Divine, Chris."

I was sure she was grinning. "If it's too early, ma'am."

"No! I mean it's hectic. Some lady's hair just fell out, and another one we set on fire, not anything grafts can't fix, but impressive nonetheless until we got her out! Where are you?"

"I'm right up the street, in front of Annabelle's"

"Great! For some reason, I've had a cancellation…" she started to laugh, and I did something like that. "God, that sounds too bad. I'm really just ahead of schedule, Chris. Come in as soon as you can. The coast is clear and it will give us time to work. Can you come now?"

"I'm on my way."

I handed the old shoes to Anna through her door where she was waiting for me. I didn't look back, but I'm sure I felt her watch me the whole block and a half.

I pushed the door to the Style Palace, and the first thing I noticed was that the women there didn't seem to pay any attention this time. Most just glanced and didn't look back.

Rachel smiled and opened her mouth, but Jessie beat her to it..

"Oh, thank the gods for something going right. Thank you, so much, for coming in early, Chris."

I was quite sure she was looking, because she said this while bent sideways at the middle to look at me.

"Very nice. New clothes?" She said approvingly, or so I thought, and grinned before continuing more loudly “I want to compliment you for wearing such a lovely new white blouse and pink sweater to get your hair dyed. Mindy!" She called just above the din.

"Yes, O Goddess Divine?"

Several of the women laughed.

"I deserved that, and it will be reflected in your Christmas bonuses."

"You don't give us a Christmas--"

"Yeah, whatever. Trauma Room One and, for the love of god, bring a smock - one of the nice long really hot ones with the plastic!"

Trauma Room One, it turned out, was just a chair in the far back corner with a curtain that would pull around it, but the feel was almost like an emergency room.

 
 

 
 

     Anna's car turned out to be an old Volvo Wagon, which she used to haul things like my dress.

"I can't get over how pretty it is." Sally said for the tenth time. "They really did a nice job on the cut."

It was dark now or she'd be going on about the color too.

"I thought the color was amazing." Anna said. “It's going to look so pretty against the blue silk. If they take pictures, you have to get me one for the shop, Chris."

"I will." I promised, only for the third time thinking that any pictures they took of me would probably have numbers under them and a really nice side view.

There were more kids in their rooms than on the Friday nights recently past because some of them had stayed for the dance. Most were still gone overnight, though, and planning on coming back tomorrow afternoon.

Across the grounds, I could see the Crystal Hall was lit fully now, the bottoms of the chandeliers just visible through the large sets of French doors that lined each side. It was only the second time I'd seen it lit like that and it reminded me of one of the great palaces of Europe in the movies.

I gave directions as she coasted to the end of the drive. "To the left, ma'am. I can go in the door at the end of my wing. Just over there" I said pointing, while pulling the cardkey out of the purse.

"Good luck, Chris." She said as she draped the garment bag over my shoulder. It was heavy.

At the top of the stairs I heard my next-door neighbor, Jacob, call out.

"Chris?"

"No." I said, turning the key in my door, and trying to sound really bored.

"Oh, Man. We thought it sounded like Miss Lynn." He called in a prison yard whisper that echoed in the hallway. I'm sure he was popping his head out just after I pushed inside my door.

He sounded a little more muffled when I heard. “Night, Chris. … Hurry up! Hit play, Man. You're hearing shi…" his door thumped a second before mine, ending the discourse.

I was so relieved, that it was over ten minutes before I thought to call the admin line. "Mrs. Pierce." answered the voice on the other line.

"Ma'am, it's Chris Morgan. I'm back in my room."

"I thought that might be you in the Wagon."

'Yes, ma'am." I said biting my tongue and forcing myself not to offer any new information. Miss Lynn was bad enough but doing that with Mrs. Pierce was like asking Sherlock Holmes to pick a number between one and three.

"Who was that, Chris? I was about to walk down to check on you guys."

Visions of the guys next door thanking me, not to mention getting caught myself and being kept away from the ball, danced in my head. Actually, the vision in my head looked more like a Three Stooges skit…

"It was the lady where I was shopping and her sister, Mrs. Pierce. They were going to deliver my stuff so they just gave me a ride too."

I bit my lower lip.

"Chris, I hope you were careful."

"I was, ma'am. I've met them before and they are very nice."

"Okay, you're not a child. No girls in the room over there?"

"Aaah, Ummm." Three languages, and that's what came out. I was sure I never sounded so guilty.

"How many girls Chris? Do we need the paddy wagon, or will a cruiser do?" She joked.

"It's just me, ma'am."

"Funny, Chris. Very funny." She laughed as she said good night.

I thought I was going to faint, which was why I only got the funny part long afterwards.

 
 

 
 

     I tried to relax. I tried to read. I tried to watch TV. I tried to sleep.

I wound up pulling on a sweatshirt with a hood, and trying to see if there was a snack in the dining room but there were noises there.

Restlessly, my feet led me on their own down the quieter hallway to the theater. It still smelled musty but the glow from the exit signs gave more than enough light to my rapidly adjusting eyes, as I drifted toward the stage.

In the dressing room, I found myself making my way toward the wall of memories before I even realized that was where I had been heading all along.

They were all still there. Suddenly it all came home.

I wondered how many years it had been since anyone had really looked at them. So many boys up there who were gone now. Boys who had lived their lives already, many in ways that I had probably heard of had I taken the time to connect the names below the pictures to the histories I knew. I wondered how many decades it had been since anyone had even read those names.

Perhaps, if I still went to St. Andrew's on Monday, I’d look them up. It seemed the least I could do after all that they had done for me.

I looked at the five faces, over and again. It was in their eyes too. I could see in each of them how alive they were. Surround by their classmates, some of whom wore expressions infinitely much more animated than the few at which I stared but none of the others had those eyes. It was something in the way they looked at the camera that made them look as if I were looking in my mirror. They were calm, a little sad, and perhaps even a little defiant; but, of all those pictures, it was more like their eyes were looking through the camera lens at me.

I might have known how long I looked if I’d been able to turn my eyes away to the opposite wall where the large old clock hung. I never did.

I wanted to tell them I was sorry. I wanted to tell them how happy I was to know I wasn’t alone. I wanted… to explain, to them most of all, because their eyes told me that they already knew. They would have understood. Just like I understood them.

“Me too.” I whispered.

 
 

 
 

My very special thanks to Geoff for his invaluable time and advice.

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

 
 

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Finale

 
 
 

     With the dance at seven, and my own appointment scheduled tactically at four-thirty, everyone else was just too busy to worry very much about what I was doing. I spent the early afternoon in the tub trying to relax, and trying some of the other little bottles that I'd found in the bags that I'd brought home from various places. They smelled nice, but from what I could tell, most just made the tub really slippery.

By the time I started to leave at three, none of the ladies in the office were any more interested in checking me out than they had been the day before, so with a call I was able to walk out the side door, and directly to the bus. No one else seemed to notice, and this time of year, it would be dark well before I got back.

I still breathed relief as the bus pulled away.

 
 
 
 

"Chris, have a seat." Rachel said. Jessie was there, but she was ‘dealing with’ a girl about my age. It was several minutes before she came over to take me from the magazine I'd just opened.

"The rumpus room, Chris." She said pointing, and once there she gestured to the seat. "Do you know the real difference between you and the girls at Saint Mary's, Chris?"

I could only shake my head.

"You are much nicer." She said flatly, running her fingers through my hair. "Ok, where is the hat?"

"Ma'am?" The hat had been in my pocket since I sat down on the bus.

"Good job not getting beat up. I told you not to, and you didn't, but I want the hat." She held out her hand.

"I'm sorry, I thought…"

"Hat!"

I hurriedly pulled the knit cap out of my pocket.

She took it and threw it into a drawer.

"Good thinking," she said. "You can have it back at the end of the semester."

She ran her fingers through the cut again. "It came out really good, if I do say so myself. I love the color. Thank god you came in yesterday, 'cause now this will be so much easier. Now, watch what I do."

Watching was a waste of time. I had no earthly idea what she did, but once it was styled it really looked very nice. Much like the girl in the picture, and perhaps even just a little better than I'd hoped.

I was admiring it when I noticed the girl from the cosmetics counter at the mall, Donna, watching from the curtain. "Pretty." She said, and pushed in a little cart.

Jessie said, "I believe you've met. Donna, this is Chris. Fortunately he's really easy to work with, because at least three of the last four girls have changed their minds and want your help."

"Jess, I have to go to the store. I can't do three. They'll have to come there, and there is no time left."

"I know. Don't worry about it. I'll pick one…" Jessie said, and was gone.

Donna moved to look at me.

"Donna, if I said anything the other night…" I felt I should try to explain, but I had no idea how exactly, so I shrugged a little and tried at least to look apologetic.

"What do you mean?" She asked, looking between me and her cart, more to look at the colors and things she'd need, than to really consider anything I said.

"Well I just thought you were not happy with me." I finished weakly.

If she even frowned slightly, it wasn't enough for me to see. "Chris, I thought you were great. You looked at one or two things, and then bought just about one of each type you had me pull out. I can see you even listened to what I had to say. You may be the best customer I ever had."

"I didn't want you to think I was rude." I said, as she lifted my chin.

"We were probably rude to you, me because I was tired.” She told me, still not paying much attention to what I said. “Did you do this?" She asked, and I nodded. "It's better than it was when you came into the store."

"I've been practicing." I didn't feel like telling her that Miss Lynn had done the makeup that first night, and that I’d been too nervous to sit still for her.

"It's better. That first night the colors were off, and it looked like you rushed. Hold still…"

She never smiled until the very end when she stepped back to watch my face as I turned back to the mirror and stared... and stared.

 
 

 
 

     I was watching out the partially closed blinds of my window. The lights were shining brightly in the center of the Crystal Hall, with the lights around the walls dimmed. Even so, it reflected on the frost along the ground, looking like glowing silver and gold paths through the trees, leading in every direction.

The kids were filing in, and there were several buses sitting in the long drive adjacent to the reception hall.

It was time.

I was ready. I had been for over half an hour. Little touches of makeup fixes with what I’d bought off the cart to thank Donna were all I felt I needed. I didn’t really need those, because I’d been feeling mostly calm and only a little nervy.

At least five people had seen me outside, but none had been close enough to see me well enough.

I turned and began to release the dress from it's hanger.

Tucked inside, I found a wrap that Anna must have slipped in. It was very sweet of them, but it proved to me how much my hands were shaking as I loosened it from where it had hung inside the dress.

I lifted the dress high, and let it fall quickly to the floor to spread the skirt as much as possible before stepping in, but then the realization hit me that I might not be able to manage the restroom so well in the dress, so I had to do it over again, after a visit and a last spray of perfume in the bathroom.

The gown was much harder to pull up than it had been to drop over my head, and that was only barely possible if I pulled the zipper all the way to the very bottom, but I was too afraid I'd mess myself up, so I struggled, and finally the dress slipped up.

Reaching around behind myself, I felt for the zipper and tugged, only to have it move about an inch and stop. I tried again, and then again, but it was no use. I carefully slid the dress down, and turned to look at it. Using both hands, I was able to hold the sides of the dress together, and with a few tugs the zipper slid to the top.

I lowered the zipper to just above the point where it had stuck, and turned around to lift the dress back into place, but it was too tight, so I lowered the zipper fully once more, and pulled the skirt back over my hips before I reached back and tugged again.

I felt like crying.

I didn't even know why this was so important to me. All I knew was that it was. I wanted to do this, and I needed to go to the dance. Perhaps it was only to prove to myself if the dreams were real. I had to go, because I had to know. I leaned against the desk trying to think, and it was only my frantic thoughts that prevented me from crying right then.

I slipped the dress off and looked at the zipper again. The hole it the tab was too small to put the end of a hanger through.

Despite all the practice I'd had lately, I still hate it when I cry. "Don't cry you goof," I whispered to the mirror as I squinted my eyes, and looked at the reason I did not want to cry. "Think." I breathed.

I opened the desk drawer looking for anything that I might use to help, but office supplies held no hope. A paperclip, maybe, I thought, but I only had three really big ones, and they didn't fit the hole either. I began looking around in my other drawers, until I found a small sewing kit that my mother had included in some care package at some time in the past. At the time, I remember thinking I really had no clue which end of a needle to stick into myself, and that it was the one thing that all boys on their own must surely need.

I picked it up from where it had lain for over a year, apologizing silently for my lack of faith in my mother, before pulling out the small spool of thread. I fully unzipped the dress again to carefully loop the thread through the hole several times, making as many loops as I had thread on that tiny spool before I readjusted the dress to try again.

The zipper seemed to move, as I held the sides of the dress together as best I could with one hand, but it was hard. several times I tried to pull a little harder, even letting the slide down a little before trying again. Of course, the thread finally broke.

I looked around the room, in between glances at my clock, but there was nothing else that might help.

I tried twice more like that, with the white spool and the black spool, looking at the girl in the mirror, but it was no use. I looked again. A hanger just wouldn't fit in the hole, and I had nothing else.

That's where I was, still looking at myself in the mirror and struggling desperately not to cry, when a loud bang from outside my door brought me rushing over to peek.

"Come on, we have to move!" I heard complaining coming from just outside.

"You in a hurry? Twinkle toes?" I was already moving the door, and I quickly cracked it open to look carefully around the edge.

"Girls, you fool. Women! You probably like going to an all boys' school you loser."

Coming down the hall behind the others was the boy from the corner room, Benny Jackson. Unmistakable, because he had the darkest skin of anyone in the school. I called softly "Benny!"

"Chris?" He looked at the door as I pulled it back in front of me. "You better get a move on. I had to show those guys how to do a bow tie, and…"

"Benny, I need your help. Please?" I called softly, from just out of sight.

"Sure, Chris, but one shot at the tie…" I stepped back behind the door, and pulled it fully open. "… and you are on your…" Benny stopped mid stride, but I was between him and the door, which I let go to face him, while holding the front of the dress at the breast. "Chris? What the hell?"

"Benny, I'm so sorry. Please don't freak out on me." I pleaded with him. "I need your help. The dress is old, and I need help to get the zipper up."

"Is this a joke? You don't have time to change!" His mouth moved again, but only soft guttural sounds came out, when his eyes suddenly grew wider. "Hey, now. Look'ie here Lady. I have mace, and I'm not afraid… I'll scream."

"Benny! For God's sake, just pull the zipper up for me, please. We have to go." I turned my back to him, not sure if I was trying to give him access to the zipper, or keep from crying if I looked at him any more.

"Chris, what are you doing?" He said, still standing there, and not moving an inch.

"I don't know, Ben, please. I can't get it up, and I'm going to be late."

"This doesn't mean we are going together, man."

Finally I felt his hands at my back, just as I was sure tears would slip free. Instinctively I tipped my head forward to keep my hair out of the way, even though it was surely too short to get stuck.

He tugged several times.

I tried to help. "You have to hold it together, Ben, but be careful it's very old."

"Yeah, Chris. Thanks. I thought that zippers on dresses worked a different way. Man this one is going to take the… cake" The zipper slid to the top, as the dress conformed itself to hug me firmly from hip to breast.

I gasped out loud in relief. I'm sure my eyes were still dewy when I turned to thank him.

"Thank you, Benny. I owe you big time."

"Chris, what are you doing?"

"Don't freak on me, Ben. Please."

"Look who's talking? Now let me get the hell out of here, but first turn around let me wipe my fingerprints off the zipper. I want no part of this if Pierce decides to dust for prints."

"Don't tell anyone, please?" I had the instinct to reach for his forearm, but I was sure he'd jump out the window if I did. "Everyone will see anyway in a few minutes."

"Tell them what?" He asked. "This is all you baby. I want no part of it, except for the fact that you need to tell me which door you are going to walk in, because I'm going to set up a chair right in front of it, man."

"Thank you, Benny. Thank you, so much."

"No problem, Chris, now let me out."

He walked around me to the door, and pulled it open, only to turn and look at me again. Shaking his head at me, he let the door go without saying anything else.

No sooner had I turned to find the stole, when I heard a loud knock, before the echo of the closing thump had even faded away.

For several seconds I thought it might be Mrs. Pierce or Miss Lynn, even though I had been sure they would be too busy to worry about me. Looking around, I'd never fit in the closet in this dress, and the bathroom was no hiding place at all, so taking a breath, I walked to the door and slowly pulled it open.

"Benny?" I asked, relieved, and surprised he was still there.

"Chris, you Okay?"

"I'm fine now, Benny. I just couldn't get the zipper up. I'm sorry." The frustration still made me want to cry.

"You need a date? As long as you don't expect my pin or anything, I'll walk you across if you need me to."

He actually looked worried.

"No." I said, this time placing my hand on his forearm. "But, thank you, Benny - for everything."

"You sure?"

I nodded, much calmer now as I took a deep breath.

Benny did something then that I just didn't expect. He complimented me.

"You look great, Chris," he said in parting, and chuckled to himself all the way to the stairs.

"Ben?" I called.

He turned.

"I'm using the same side door as the rest of you guys. The one on this side."

I’m pretty sure he chuckled to himself all the way down the stairs as well.

 
 

 
 

     I needed the cold air to help with my jitters. The butterflies were still there too, and the cold on my chest and shoulders and back made me shiver gently despite the wrap that I was using to cover my bare skin for the short walk to the hall, but my head was clearing - a little.

Ahead of me, the lights in the hall grew suddenly brighter in the center of the dance floor, even as the lights over the tables dimmed further. I had to hurry.

One of the caterers was at the door, moving some forgotten item in, and he stopped me and said. "The door for you girls is over near the buses." He was just being nice.

"I know." I said, and just stood there waiting for him to move, not knowing what else to do.

"Have it your way, Miss." He said opening the door further for me. "Enjoy the ball."

I grinned, and thanked him as I walked into the outer hall between the inner and outer glass doors. There was a table that had been placed there for the boys to leave their top hats, gloves, bicycle pumps. I was surprised. There was actually a hat there. I left my stole and a small drawstring bag that held a few cosmetics and tissues beside it.

The inner doors were open, and I stood there for several moments. I took several deep breaths before I realized that people had looked in my direction. No one noticed yet. They would.

My mind was unnaturally quiet, and I took one more deep breath, as I gently lifted my skirts and slowly walked into the brighter light at the end of the line of my classmates, who being generally smaller, were lined up in front of the upperclassmen. I stood there, folding my hands in front of me, I think outwardly calm.

It was done.

The boy beside me, whom I had not even looked at long enough to recognize nudged my arm softly.

"Hey. You're on the wrong side. The girls are lined up over there."

"Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen." Mrs. Pierce's voice rolled from the end of the dance floor, and the end of the hall in front of a small microphone that had been placed there in front of the small orchestra for the conductor.

I took another deep breath, and slowly turned to look the boy beside me in the eye. It was almost two seconds before I saw his eyes widen, and his complexion fade. I was sure mine was doing the same, and I had to force myself to breathe deeply again as I tried to settle the butterflies once more, because I could see several other guys heads turning toward me or worse popping out of line to see.

All I could do was to turn forward, again, letting my eyes rove over the rows of beautifully dressed girls across from me. About half were in more modern gowns, and about half were dressed as I had, but they all looked lovely as my eyes moved slowly over their line. They were doing the same.

"Let me just say how happy I am that so many of you could be here for me to welcome you to your Winter Ball." She paused as several people applauded politely.

I thought I heard the murmur of an earnest conversation off in the darker area near the tables where the adults stood, but I couldn't hear any of the words.

"Thank you. Now let me just say, that the first obligation of all of you here is to have a good time, and enjoy yourselves and each other's dress…"

I glanced at her long enough to see her eyes grow wide as she lost it looking at me.

"God." I whispered, and tried to let my mind go blank. Someone touched the bare skin on my back softly, but I barely noticed them. I was too unnerved over how badly I’d unsettled Mrs. Pierce.

"I'm… Excuse me, each other's hair." She took a deep breath, which everyone heard over the microphone, but I don't know where she was looking at that point. I was too afraid to even glance in her direction, and I couldn't take my eyes off one tall girl who was staring directly at me, as many of the other girls now were.

"I beg your pardon. Your first obligation is to enjoy each other's company. So enjoy yourselves, and if I see too many hiding along the sidelines, both I and my counterpart, Mrs. Lang of Saint Mary's, will be happy to make introductions. So, especially for all you ladies - Welcome to Saint Andrew's."

There was some polite applause, but this time I definitely heard some words off to my left through the noise, but I couldn't look that way either. I had known there was a good chance that I would be escorted out, making this the most expensive ball gown on a per minute basis since Katharine the Great had worn one to an orgy, but I so dearly hoped not.

The noises from the adults came a little louder "… I don't care." "You can't. He can wear what he wants…" "Don't you think I know..." There were shadows of movements to my left, and to my right I could see Mrs. Pierce smiling at everyone else as she made her way calmly but inexorably in my direction. "He'll always be the boy who showed up… dress, for the rest of …"

Mrs. Pierce had nodded to all the ladies across from us, more than one of whom, were nudging their closest companions and nodding in my direction instead. My eyes found several of the girls who were just looking, and the few more who did not seem to notice anything unusual, but most already had.

"Chris?"

I jumped at the voice right behind me, as I was turned by my shoulder.

I found myself staring up at Tom, unable to move or think.

"Did you come to dance?" He asked, glancing repeatedly over my head, but smiling down at me.

I nodded somehow, unable to tell him he didn't have to do this, but he had my hand already, and I still couldn't speak.

He led me toward the dance floor before any other couple had a chance, which signaled the conductor to announce a request for the Rogers and Hammerstein waltz.

The opening bars of the prelude music were already sounding as he led me past Mrs. Pierce.

Tom shifted to be between she and I, and said in passing, "Good evening, Mrs. Pierce."

I couldn't tell if she was frowning or smiling. I could see her in stark relief, but my mind would not process the information my eyes were trying to send it.

Behind her, even the girls who had been nudging, or even pointing, had stopped to watch me being led to the floor. Some smiling, some curious, and some practically expressionless, but all were watching.

Tom took my hip, waiting for the orchestra.

"Someone told me you are supposed to breathe, Chris." He said, smiling down at me. "I can actually see your heart beating in your chest."

I didn't laugh, I couldn't, but the spasm that went through me rekindled the process of moving air in and out of my lungs just the same.

"Tom?" I husked weakly "Why?'

He grinned again. "Are you kidding? We're friends. You're also one of the prettiest girls here, even though I'm going to do most of my dancing with Angie." He grinned broadly down at me as we heard the piece begin to play. "Mostly though, Chris. When I'm eighty I'll still be telling folks: 'What do you think I did? I asked him to dance'."

He laughed at my expression as I stepped into the pull on my hip.

The lights on the side were dimming more, and for several seconds, when I was not looking at Tom, I was conscious of being watched by every eye. We were all the way around the floor before the second couple joined us. I couldn't muster the breath to ask Tom to stop grinning, and I was too overwhelmed by the lights and faces that were sweeping past us anyway.

When he paused and let go of my hip, and I instinctively held out my freed hand as I continued in a circle around him, he laughed again at the cooing noise that rose form the girl’s side.

There were by then at least a half a dozen couples, one of whom was grinning at me more widely than anyone else. Jerry.

As the waltz ended, my heart was still intent on beating its way to freedom, but the butterflies had finally cocooned themselves into a warm tingle that filled my middle.

Tom stopped us at the far end, near the orchestra, and as far away from the adults as possible. I could only look at him in awe and gratitude.

"Thank you, Tom." I said softly but clearly, even though I could have as easily cried as I released my gratitude to him.

"No, Chris. Thank you." He said as he leaned down to peck my cheek! Several folks nearby gave a good-natured chuckle of approval, and there was a softer cooing sound from the girls on my right. It didn't keep my expression from telling him how grateful I was.

"Excuse me?" He asked. I laughed and patted his chest to let him go. He turned toward an amazing looking blond girl, who I assumed was Angie, and who was walking toward us grinning and shaking her head.

I looked away as soon as I could, just as the next waltz was beginning. I tried to stand calmly and watch the couples joining on the floor, but I could not help but glance at the other end of the hall.

I was at first relieved to see that Mrs. Pierce, and Miss Lindsay were standing at the edge of the dance floor with their backs turned toward me, obviously not intending to snatch me right out of the middle of the dance. My relief wavered, though, when I realized that Mrs. Pierce was standing facing one of the governors - one of the important ones. One look at how straight her back was told me all that I needed to know.

Miss Lynn was with the head, talking to another group.

"Wish I'd thought of it too. Could have charged them double."

I laughed, mostly with nerves, before I even turned to face Freddie.

"Chris, may I just say… Wow!"

"Oh, knock it off, Freddie, please? I didn't bring any money with me."

"I'm not kidding, Chris. I almost dropped that first day I saw you in the hall, but this. It's amazing. If my mum and dad had come, I'd be introducing you to them right now."

I grinned painfully. "Oh, Freddie, give it a rest."

"You look absolutely beautiful, Chris."

"Thank you, Fred." I said this while reaching out to brush the silky lapel of his jacket. "You look very handsome too. This is much better than that stupid skirt." I tried to giggle, but couldn't. He did look much more handsome.

"Thank you. Come on." He held out his hand.

I blushed then. "Freddie, knock it off. Okay? I mean it."

"What? I'm not good enough to dance with?"

"I'd rather dance with Mrs. Pierce." I said grinning now.

"Why you stuck up little…" He started to laugh.

"Ass." I said, the giggles finally escaping my tight insides too.

"Tease."

"Jerk."

"Bitch. Come on."

"Freddie, do you remember last year when you jumped into a bed full of peanut butter?" I asked him, sweetly.

"Don't remind me, I still… Hey! That was…? Awe, Chris. No way that was you, man, you wouldn't say boo to Vladimir Putin."

"No, I wouldn't." I admitted. "But I'm not on a scholarship either, and I can buy a whole lot more peanut butter if you keep it up." I smiled as sweetly as I knew how, and looked at the girls again, trying to get up my courage.

"Yes you can,” he said beside me, “but I'm bigger…"

Freddie had somehow moved in front to take my hip, and I instinctively followed his lead easily enough for him to put us back onto the dance floor again.

He grinned at me the whole time, even though he was the only dance partner I had that night who I didn't stare back at. I had to look at the other faces, or anyplace other than Freddie.

However, I had somehow forgotten that he was also one of the best dancers in the school.

Then I could not help but to look at him.

We danced for the rest of that waltz, which was only for a little while, but it was really nice just the same. He was a much better than me, I realized.

As the waltz ended, he grinned again, and said "Thank you, Chris" and did that little peck on the cheek thing making me close my eyes and go more than a little rigid as I gently squirmed from the assault.

"Freddie." I whined softly. I was now giggling and shivering inside and out.

"Thanks, Chris." He grinned broadly, and then stepped over to ask one of the other girls to dance.

Girls!

I turned quickly, but it was already too late. I was a lost gosling, being surrounded and drawn into the center of the flock.

I spun back hissing. "Freddie! You dirty bast…"

"Hi. You must be. Chris." I heard.

I looked back for the girl who had addressed me, and quickly had to look up. She was wearing a modern gown, and was tall. She was the girl who'd been staring fixedly at me. She was also awfully strong looking… It threw me a little. My god, she was pretty, with a pretty shape, but you could still see that she had actual muscles in her arms.

"How…Hi." I stammered.

She laughed, I think because I was completely surrounded and completely cut off at that point.

"How beautiful." I heard whispered just behind me, and: "So pretty for a boy…" "Too pretty, you mean..."

The big girl laughed again, and said simply. "I'm Beth. I ride the bus to our field meets with Tom, who told us about you helping out."

"I. I, he?" I responded boldly, clearly taking charge of the conversation. Oh, God.

Her smile didn’t waver. "When he said you were actually very cute, we teased him something fierce. Now I’ll have to apologize."

"What did he say?" I managed, in English, one of the three languages I thought I could understand.

A girl beside me pulled my shoulder gently. "Do you go to Saint Andrew's?" She asked staring at my eyes and face before she looked down at my gown, where even another girl reached out and whispered to others beside her. "Look. it's hand painted…” “That’s a boy?" "So Beautiful..."

I nodded to the first girl, which caused the cooing sound again, but this time it came from all around me.

Another girl leaned in and asked "Are you the Headmaster's granddaughter or something?" She was staring at me in disbelief. This girl was very pretty, and it made me blush as I struggled to sound normal. I found almost enough air in my lungs to say "No. I just go."

"How long?" Someone else asked.

"Two years." I told her, to softer cooing and louder murmurs.

Suddenly behind me another girl said loudly. "Well enough of this. I need to find a man before they all go poofy on us."

"Jesus Jenny." The pretty girl said to her. "You have to be such a slut all the time? You were already voted most likely three years running." She did not look happy with Jenny.

The rude girl said "Whatever." and kind of stalked off.

Beth took my hand, forcing me to look at her, even though there were still soft comments and questions all around. They all ignored the rude girl too.

"So," Beth asked, "would you like to dance, or did you just plan to dance with all the cute guys so none of us had a chance?"

"What?" I was stammering now "No! I wanted to dance with you guys. Guys?" Oh, god. And I was worried about asking a girl to dance.

"Good." Beth said, and practically pulled me through the rustling of feathers, as she made a path through the center of the flock to the edge of the dance floor.

There were over a dozen couples now, including some of the ones who were far less confident, but no one had run over anyone yet.

Instinctively, I guess, I reached up to put my hand on Beth's shoulder, and she only laughed when I blushed because of it. She wasn't offended, because she grinned and shook her head, as she drew me onto the floor.

Beth wasn't a great dancer, but she was at least nice enough to realize fairly quickly that she had to slow down and take smaller steps to keep me from having to run around the floor after her. She would have been better if she hadn't been asking me so many questions about what Tom had told her on the team's bus.

I myself almost tripped us once, when Freddie flew by grinning, and I mouthed the suggestion explaining his parentage.

She was really nice though. When the dance ended, she and I were back on the girl's side, so she held my hand as she escorted me off the edge there.

"He was right about you being a good dancer too." Beth smiled at me, and then to the chuckles of most of the girls, she did the cheek peck too, and laughed at me as I blushed, resisting the impulse to rub my cheek.

"Hum! Makeup!" Beth grinned making smacking noises. "That's definitely an acquired taste I guess. Thank you for the dance, Chris. Perhaps later?"

I could only nod, too in shock to do more than murmur something polite.

"Well, Thank You, Chris. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd really like to get to some of the boys before Jenny contaminates them all."

I nodded to her, and turning realized that Mrs. Pierce was dancing with her husband. I smiled and nodded as she briefly caught sight of me, but it gave me the instant courage to turn back toward the girls.

That's when I saw her.

I was not surprised that I had not seen her before, because she was small like me. She was quite possibly the prettiest girl I'd ever seen. Not like the blond girl, who looked like a model, but more like a doll.

She had dark eyes, and black curly hair down to her shoulders, in a fine ringlet perm I guess you'd call it. She was wearing a cream gown, of an older style that made me think of it as a vintage gown like mine. It was almost a golden color, and had a little ribbed pattern running up and down the bodice and sleeves. The bodice and skirt were both covered in small colorfully embroidered flowers.

I could only stare.

"Hi, Chris." she said softly, as she smiled politely. "Would you like to dance with me now?"

"Hi." I answered her, not able to take my eyes away. "You know my name?" I asked, sounding rather silly.

She seemed to be staring at me as much as I was staring at her.. "I'm Millie." She reached for my hand.

It was only a couple of steps to the floor, but one of the other girls did manage to say "Oh, Gosh. She caught up with him." Another answered that one with: "Careful Chris."

Millie only smiled and laughed at them before she turned fully to face me.

I guess it was because she was actually a tiny bit smaller than I, that I got a little confused, I reached for her hip, but she just smiled and took my hand, and moved it to her shoulder. "Who do you think taught these behemoths to trot?" She said, smiling broadly now at the look on my face as she took a step on the next beat.

Unlike Freddie, I had no trouble keeping eye contact with Millie.

I danced with her for that entire waltz, and another after, when one of the girls cut in. I danced with Tom again, and he introduced me to Angie, who also asked me to dance, before Millie was back again. Jerry, and the very pretty girl, Deborah... and even Benny. In the short breaks for air, or a sip of water from tiny bottles, several of the girls continued asking about me, but more and more about the handsome boy's I'd been dancing with. It made me laugh to tell them who, and how nice, my friends truly were. It was all so wonderful, but my head was spinning when the chimes sounded that it was coming time for us to start moving toward the tables.

Millie took me by the hand, and I followed. I'd have never gone near the adults had it not been for her leading me to a table. However, I really needed to sit now because we'd both danced almost all the dances so far, and the silk dress was really heavy.

"Chris?" Mrs. Pierce said, as she appeared from nowhere beside us.

Millie surprised me by stepping up to press herself into my side, as if she was afraid that Mrs. Pierce would snatch me right off my feet. I sort of thought she might as well.

Mrs. Pierce actually almost smiled the human smile at her. "Miss Goldman, nice to see you. May I talk to Chris."

Millie squeezed my hand, and said. "Chris and I were just going to get a table, Ma'am. Chris has asked me to eat with him."

It wasn't true but the caterers were now scurrying about the tables, and some of the other couples and kids were drifting up behind us, so it seemed a little truthful.

"Would you step over here with me, Chris? There's someone who wants to say hello." With that, she turned and walked away from the floor.

"It's Okay, Millie.” I sighed. “Mrs. Pierce is… my friend." I tried to reassure her, hoping that the person she wanted me to meet didn't have a net.

I started to walk to follow Mrs. Pierce, but Millie wouldn't let go of my hand. She came along.

Several people were standing back away from the tables, and along the wall, while I approached slowly, because I was so afraid that I was about to be forcibly ejected, or worse.

"Good evening, Headmaster." I said, quietly, while holding Millie's hand more tightly than she had squeezed mine. I was about say something about the nice dance, when another man stepped toward me.

"Hello, Chris."

"Dad!"

He looked a little confused, but I wasn't at all. I just grabbed him.

"Dad." I said more weakly, wanting to laugh, but crying now just the same. "You, came."

He was hugging me back tightly, almost lifting me. "As soon as I could, Chris." Even though he squeezed me like he meant it, he all too quickly pushed me back to look at me.

I had to ask, “How long have you been here?"

"I got here about fifteen minutes ago, as quickly as the limo could make the trip from the airport."

"I'm so glad to see you, Dad... I…" I was going to tell him how happy I was, but the look on his face held me back. He just stared, and there were tears in his eyes.

Oh god, Dad.

"Dad, I didn't mean to upset anyone. I'm sorry. I just wanted…" All I could do was to compare all their shoes for several moments.

"Chris, Would you come back here with me for a moment."

Oh no, I thought suddenly. I had been thrown out of school after all. I took a deep breath, and steadied myself as best I could. I didn't look at any of the men and women who standing near us looking at me. Too few were smiling, anyway. Most just looked worried or confused. They weren't the ones I'd miss.

"Yes, sir." I mumbled very softly, and began to follow him.

Mrs. Pierce and Miss Lynn were standing near the front side door that the girls had come in waiting for us. It looked like they were talking to Saint Mary's headmistress.

When we were close, Dad reached out for the woman’s arm, and she jumped visibly at his touch, and turned...

"Mom?"

My first thought was that she looked older, and so very tired. My second thought was that she felt just like I remembered as we held on to each other.

She didn't push me away to look like Dad had.

I hate it when I cry, usually. This time, I just whispered 'Mom' every time she said she was sorry.

It was several minutes before I felt mom stiffening up suddenly, and when I looked back, Millie was there dewy-eyed, but, so were several of my friends who'd come to make sure they weren’t dragging me away.

"Guys." I said too quickly, having trouble speaking, but holding up my hand for them to stay back.

Poor mom looked like a frightened child.

"Please. You're frightening her. Please move back a little. I'll explain it all to you later. It's Okay, I promise. This is my mom."

The guys didn't understand, but Millie did instinctively, and Miss Lindsay did as well, because they both moved in to pull my friends aside, while Miss Lindsay explain to them exactly why I was crying, and why they had to hang back.

Millie was the only one who returned to me, and stood with Miss Lynn.

Mrs. Pierce spoke up then. "Mister and Mrs. Morgan, may I present Miss Millie Goldman. Her family is Goldman Trust."

My father nodded and said something cordial to Millie, but my mother just smiled absently at her, before she spoke to me again. "You look different Chris."

I lifted the sides of my dress, and let them fall. "I'm so sorry if I've embarrassed you again."

My mother spoke even more softly. "That's not what I meant, Chris. You look… happy."

I didn't know what to say. "How long did you watch, Mom?"

My father answered, because my mom was just staring at me, and tears were flowing from her eyes again.

"Long enough." He tried to smile, as he said. "If you were so unhappy here, Chris, you could have said something."

It was funnier than it sounds, but Mrs. Pierce actually rose up on her toes, and I thought sure she'd swing, but even she quickly realized he was only joking with me, and he probably just didn't know what else to say.

Neither did I, which is why I couldn't really explain any better than I finally did.

"No." I said shaking my head slowly. "That's not it at all. I love it here, and these people are really nice to me every day. Mrs. Pierce, Miss Lynn, and Doctor Pope, they treat me like I'm their family. The guys… Dad they're just the best you can even imagine. They’re more like big brothers."

"You still like it here?" My mother asked, sounding both relieved and confused.

"Yes, I do. Don’t you understand? I just missed you guys, so much. That's all."

My father looked confused, his eyes trying to take all of me in again. "Then what's this all about, Chris?"

I felt the words coming together inside of me, but I couldn't make them move further than my stomach. "I don't know, Dad." I told him, dabbing my eyes with a tissue Millie slipped into my hand.

"It's just…" Looking up at their faces, the words poured out. "I don't think I'm supposed to be in a boy's school."

 
 

 
 

     "…Thus, there are several changes that we had to add as a supplement to the student handbook. The new issue of the student handbook will be issued in a few weeks, and I'll make sure you get one of the first copies."

"Thank you Ma'am"

"One big change is that we have instituted a casual day, which has for the time being been set for the first Friday of the month. It's only temporary, so we can see how it goes, but I expect you girls in particular to read the rules regarding the acceptable modes of casual dress very carefully."

"I will ma'am. I promise."

"I know you will. Just as I know you will make sure that your daily uniform conforms as well.

"Now, you all know where the designated bathrooms are, which you'll share with the ladies on the staff, so that leaves only one other point. I want to make it very clear, because it's a big one. The shuttle van that will take you back to Saint Mary's will be here at various times depending on class schedules, and extra curricular activities. It is your responsibility to keep track of when and where you are supposed to be. I don't expect problems. However, if the unfortunate happens, you are to let me know at once. I can't have one of you girls going missing on me."

"I understand."

She sighed. "I'm sure you girls won't be a problem at all."

"Thank you, ma'am. I know that I speak for all of us when I tell you that we appreciate this opportunity, and all the trouble you've gone through to make it all work."

She smiled. "Not at all. I believe that the decision to allow students to commute from Saint Mary's so that they can take selected classes under the instructors here is a very wise one. We have some of the best teachers anywhere, and Saint Mary's has many students who are second to none. It's a good mix. Besides, five students in ten classes can hardly be considered a logistical nightmare. In any case, it's just the beginning."

"I appreciate the opportunity, ma'am. Very much."

"I'm sure you will make the most of it, just as your record proves you always have, but if there are any problems at all, what should you do?"

I couldn't help grinning. "I come and see you immediately. Neither delays nor excuses to be tolerated."

"I can see we are going to get along just fine. Now, I'd like to walk you to your first class with Doctor Hammond."

"You don't need to do that, ma'am. I'm sure I can find my way." I was still grinning like anything.

"Believe me, it will be my pleasure to make sure you get there on time, and it's only just down the hall." She ushered me out of the chair, and then out of her office.

The girls in the outer office smiled in a friendly way of welcome, making me feel really good as well.

Before we reached the outer door, though, A rather loud distinctive voice sounded behind us in an abrupt tone. "Miss Morgan?"

I turned to face him, to find that his tone not withstanding, he was smiling like everyone else.

"Good morning, Headmaster."

"And, a very good morning to you, Miss Morgan. The Saint Mary's kilt and blazer looks like a nice complement to the usual around here…"

"Thank you, Headmaster."

"… but I wanted to remind you, that I've managed quite well these last thirteen years not having to carry weapons of any kind with me as I walked our hallowed halls."

"Headmaster?" I asked, assuming this was the speech about hormonally challenged teenagers again.

"A ruler, Miss Morgan. It's my understanding that the uniform kilt length is not to be higher than three inches above the knee…"

Mrs. Pierce tiredly said. "Four inches."

"… And I fully expect my girls to show the same sense of restraint and decorum that I expect of all my students; however, if we are given reason, we will be checking to be sure that that two-inch rule is scrupulously adhered too."

"Thank you, Headmaster."

"No. Thank you, Miss Morgan. We've missed you."

"I missed all of you too, sir. Very much"

Mrs. Pierce had me by the shoulders again. "If you'll excuse us, sir. I want to make sure that Chris is not late for Doctor Hammond's class, not to mention, that she's not forced into wearing a bustle skirt for the rest of the year."

“You’re just happy you finally got your own way, Mildred.” The headmaster grinned like one of the guys. "However, tardiness can not be tolerated, and please give my fond respects to Doctor Hammond and, as for you Chris, please do try an remember that the one inch rule only exists to make your stay with us more enjoyable. Besides, knee length skirts can be quite, fetching, that is to say lovely. I even seem to recall that one student here made a most favorable impression in much longer togs."

His concessions to gravity, and the irresistible slide toward my ankles was only halted when Miss Lindsay interrupted him by handing him a message slip.

"Huh? Oh the governors, quite right. Thank you Miss Lindsay. Is that all quite clear, Miss Morgan?"

"Quite clear, sir. My mother is equally concerned, Headmaster. She already has several new rulers at the ready."

"Excellent. A most sensible woman to have raised such a charming daughter. Now if you'll excuse me… important headmaster stuff." he grinned again. "And don't forget you owe Mrs. Pope and me a dinner next week so that we can catch up on developments."

"I very much look forward to it, sir."

Mrs. P. and I were laughing half way down the hall.

"The only things I never thought would change around here were the jokes” She continued to chuckle freely with me. “So, how does it go with your family?" She asked me more quietly in the not quite empty hallway.

"Wonderful, ma'am. Really just wonderful. My parents bought a new house an hour away, so I'll be spending most nights and weekends with them.”

She nodded that she knew the Board of Governors had waived some of the residency requirements for me as well.

“The place is really too huge for just the three of us, and The Third Armored Division, but it really is very nice."

"I heard. I was so glad they will be so much closer. How is your mother doing?" She asked even more softly.

"She's much better, ma'am, thank you. She still gets uncomfortable going out, but as long as my father or I are with her, she seems much better. Her new doctor thinks it's because she and I got to spend so much time together over the Summer. It's made a huge difference in how she was feeling about things with me, and that means she's feeling better all around. We had a blast."

"And Miss Millie?" She grinned at me.

"She's wonderful too." My cheeks burned. "They wouldn't let us be roommates, though." I giggled. "I have a private room with barbed wire, and Millie has one with mines and a burglar alarm outside her door."

We both giggled.

Mrs. Pierce nudged me. "That sounds like something special. I'm so happy for you."

"It is. I can't even describe the feelings. When I think of how things might have gone on feeling so alone... Dad showed me some of the letters, and diagnoses he got from that silly doctor. He had pages of stuff that said that if he tried to get mother and me under the same roof, mom would just collapse in an irreversible catatonia. Really scary stuff."

"I'm sorry about that guy, Chris." She frowned for the first time.

"Me too. The first week we were back here though, all three of us threw them into the fireplace. It was a late family Christmas gift."

"And what did I read about this 'Anna Jessie' Foundation?"

"That's just me getting back at my dad still." I felt so embarrassed.

She smiled too, but pulled me to a stop. ‘Okay, I got the message. No getting away this time.’

"I suppose, I just realized that one big thing I like about having so much, is that sometimes you can actually help." I don't know if my blush was the same color as it usually was, but it felt different. "My mom and dad get the credit really. Their lawyer did all the work setting it up. Donna is going to school. The others, Anna and Jessie, lent their names and time, because it turns out they’ve been helping people all along. Not much to do with me, really."

She patted my shoulder again. "I'm so glad you are back. The picture of you and Millie we hung in the dressing room was a poor substitute. The place was not the same.”

My smile was all the answer she needed as she pulled opened the door to Doctor Hammond's class just before the bell rang.

"Chris!" Millie called out from her seat in the first row where she sat in an identical uniform kilt and blazer. It stood out rather starkly against all the boys, who had fearfully left rows of seats around Millie empty, even though that meant some of them had to share two to a desk, which had obviously given Millie the giggle fits.

Doctor Hammond was watching Mrs. Pierce as if he had been cleaning out the lion's cage at the zoo, and had mistakenly left the screened door unlocked.

I grinned back at Millie. "Hi Millie. I’m so glad you'll be in here too."

"Chris, I'm starting to have serious doubts." She said over her shoulders at her distant classmates. "Are they always like this?" She asked in between giggles.

"No. They're on their best behavior. What can I say? If you ignore them, they calm down pretty well, and then they kind of grow on you." I promised, grinning as much as she was, and all while nodding at a bunch of the guys who were waving and making faces at me behind her.

Just then Freddie strode into the room, causing Mrs. Pierce to loose her cool for the first time ever, covering her mouth with one hand trying to muffle a small shriek. Well, perhaps the second time.

"Oh good God. Freddie." She said, and then she cracked up.

Freddie was wearing a leather mini that was at least three inches above poor Doctor Pope’s minimums. He also had a Hooter's tee with a stuffed animal in it, some weird pink boots, this huge blond wig done up in oversized pigtails and bows, not to mention enough makeup for a whole circus of clowns…

I could only groan. "Oh Freddie…" Then laughed along with everyone else..

Freddie took my hands in his, grinning, and started jumping up and down. "Here you are, Girlfriend. I've been looking all over for you, and I'm so happy we have Home Economics together, and then we have naked volleyball, and then we can like make fudge, and… Oh! Oh! I got the little Mermaid on Blue Ray!"

I couldn't contain myself. "Oh my God, Freddie. You've lost it so bad you don't even know where you saw it last." I giggled helplessly.

"Mister Thomas." Mrs. Pierce tried for stern, and failed miserably.

"Oh, Hello Mrs. Pierce. I didn't see you there! Do you like fudge, too?"

“Do we need a private talk now, Mr. Thomas, or are you going to change in time for your next class?”

"Yes, Ma'am. Gotta go Chris. Bye! See you at the slumber party!" Then, he honest to god, as I was peeking through the fingers of the hand covering my own eyes, skipped out of the room.

One of the boys mumbled "Dumb bastard."

"Yeah, but it was funny." Someone else said.

"You think Mrs. Pierce is going to make him run around the whole school with a pack full of rocks?"

"Yeah. In that outfit."

Everyone, except Professor Hammond was laughing as I looked at Mrs. Pierce, shrugging just as helplessly.

"I'm sorry ma'am." I told her, still laughing. "I hope I won't always be this much trouble for you."

She smiled the human smile, the only one that she ever used with me now.

"Nonsense, Miss Morgan. You've given me something else we needed much more around here than peace and quiet, and I think that's worth much more than a little trouble."

"Ma'am?"

Over her shoulder, she said, "Girls, Miss Morgan. Girls."

 
 

Fin.

 
 

 
 

Thank you for reading. I hope that you’ve enjoyed reading along as much as I’ve enjoyed presenting Boys' School to you.

My very special thanks to Geoff for his invaluable time and advice.

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

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