When you discover your purpose, you will normally find it’s something you’re tremendously passionate about - Steve Pavlina

I stared at the clouds overhead, trying to force them into shapes that had some sort of meaning. My time would have been better spent sleeping during the allotted time for lunch that we were given. Instead, thoughts of the new girl plagued me. The first I'd heard of her, through conversations with fellow classmates, I assumed that she was yet just another cog in the wheel of mediocrity that made up the class of 2011.

Everyone was all a titter about a new face in the town. I'd seen it a dozen times before: the new person would come in, intrigue everyone until they realized that he or she was exactly like them, and then he or she would be assimilated into whichever clique they most related.

It was an inarguable fact of life.

My hideaway from the masses lay around the southeast corner of the school, where the only shade could be found so close to noon. This far away from the actual lunch room I was assured privacy to rid my thoughts of the lunacy that was a senior's due in high school.

"Hey Angie, it's me."

A silent groan worked its way up inside of me. The high-pitched tinkling voice of a girl. Was lunchtime, my one bastion of privacy, now forfeit?

"Can you just send someone to shoot me, please?"

I turned my head a little to peer around the corner.

"Yeah, it's that bad. It's like I've fallen into some pedestrian hell or something."

I didn't recognize the girl. Her back was to me. However, as far as backs go, it wasn't that bad a view. Her cell was pressed firmly to her ear. My brain finally clicked. It was the new girl, and she was probably updating her friends back wherever she came from about how much life sucks at her new school.

"Everyone is so weird. It's like they're clones from Village."

Leaning back against the brick wall, I cleaned up my single used baggie that once held a PB&J that had long since been gobbled down within minutes of my arrival. The half empty bag of Cheetos followed and I quietly crumbled up the paper sack before heading back inside.

"No, not really," I heard her say.

I shouldered my backpack and whipped around the corner, startling the new girl. What I hadn't counted on was getting startled myself. Blue eyes tunneled through me and then blinked a couple of times. Giving her a thin-lipped smile of apology, I mimed zipping my lips and moved on.

"Angie, let me call you back this afternoon." She said as I walked away. "Hey, wait up."

I turned slightly, but still tried to put distance between myself and the new girl. When I saw that she was specifically indicating that it was me that she wanted to wait I quickly looked around. We were in relative peace; only a few students were milling about the only set of doors that led to the cafeteria. Slowing my retreat, I paused.

She looked me over, critically. Usually, I warrant a casual glance and then eventually a dismissal as unimportant. This time was different. Her expression displayed confusion, her eyes jumping along my body, which set off my innate sense of danger. I'm different from your average high school boy, you see.

Reflexively, I exhaled any breath in my lungs and rolled my shoulders slightly forward, hoping that the gesture would go unnoticed.

"I'm Max," she said upon reaching me.

'An odd name for a girl,' I thought. For a moment I thought of just turning away and saving myself the ache of embarrassment and rejection, but something, I have no idea what, stilled my legs. "Sasha."

Her lips set in mild frustration, twitching ever-so-slightly. I knew what was going through her head. I'd seen it a thousand times before.

"Listen, uh, what I said back there…"

Holding up a hand, I forestalled her explanation. "It was none of my business. You were having a private conversation."

Her cheeks pinked slightly. "It's my first day. I don't want to start any trouble."

I nearly snorted. "Then you might not want to be seen talking to me. I'm one of the town pariahs."

Max's brow bunched in confusion. Her eyes drifted downward again, trying her best to figure out what was different about me. "Those are cool shoes. Converse, right?"

She thinks she's figured it out. I nodded. The way my jeans hung, they looked like regular Converse All-Star's. You've seen them everywhere, for decades. They come in all colors; mine were gray with white shoelaces. However the ones I wore were a little different. Raising a pant leg, I showed her that the high top went up past my ankle, where normal Converse usually ride. The insides were cushioned and comfortable, and pink, but that didn't show at the moment.

A smug look settled on her face then disappeared. She visibly relaxed and moved on to what she thought was safe conversation. "So what are the boys like here?"

My lips ticked. "I guess it depends on what you are looking for."

Max looked toward the cafeteria. "Someone different."

Following her line of sight, I shrugged my head back the way we came. "It's better if we talked in private."

"What's the big deal. You're normal enough?" she observed as she trailed behind.

Once we were safely out of sight, back at my original hideaway, I continued. "Like I said before. You don't really want to be seen talking with me."

I received a curious eye, but she didn't seem inquisitive enough to offend me by pursuing the issue, instead letting me go about telling her in my own time.

"You were right, before, about the sheep inside."

My comment bought a reaction of agreement. "I figured."

"Ninety-nine point nine percent of them are followers, just like the town. If you don't belong to one of the acceptable cliques then you're pretty much where I am."

"So, you're a leader then?"

I snorted. "Hardly."

In the shade of the tree, I was finally able to focus on her a little better. My eyes are fairly light-sensitive. I can see well enough to get by in the glare of the sun, but I'm much more comfortable in the darkness, or low-level lighting.

Max stood several inches taller than me, which should put her in the five-eight range. A careful examination of her roots told me she had naturally straight and black hair that she took very good care of every day. Dark blue eyes attracted me even more to her thin face. In short, I was smitten, and I was equally cursed because of that fact. She'd never be mine. That saddened me.

Leaning up against the tall and almost equally wide old oak, I sighed. "So, here's your chance. Grill me, because after today, you won't want to know me."

Her eyes sharpened on me. "You keep saying things like that."

I shrugged.

Max's face showed serious contemplation, then I guess she decided, with my encouragement, that she could just go for the throat. "Do they not like gays or lesbians here?"

'Close, Max, but no cigar,' I thought. "Not particularly, but they're not rabid about it. There's a Gay and Lesbian clique. About twenty of them, mostly girls."

Frowning at my referring to 'them' threw her off her assumed trail.

Max liked to be right. That was obvious. She prided herself on seeing through the surface, and it was driving her crazy not be able to solve the mystery that was me.

"Did you piss off some cheerleaders? Try to date one of the football guys or something?"

I shook my head. "Nope." Following that up with a cheeky grin set her off quite nicely. I thought I could almost hear a growl somewhere deep in her throat. Maybe I was wrong.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you." It wasn't really a question, but I shrugged anyway.

"It's the little things that make life worth living."

That made her even more determined to figure me out. "So, no social faux pas, and you're not a lesbian." She squinted at me. "I've seen plenty of girls that aren't wearing make up and are dressed similarly, so that's not it."

I snickered, and her eyes narrowed. Feeling sorry for torturing her, I ended the charade. "Max, take the day. Find out my nickname, ask around. I think things will make a lot more sense after that."

Pulling myself away from the tree, I passed her by on the way back into the school.

"You're not even going to give me a hint?"

Turning around, I kept walking backward. "Just one. Earlier, you made an incorrect assumption." I tapped at my temple with a single finger. "There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Max."

Imagine my surprise to find her waiting for me out in front of the school after classes had ended for the day. Compound that with the mildly confused look on her face and I questioned whether or not Max accomplished the goals I gave her.

"Still trying to figure it out?"

She frowned while pulling herself away from the brick wall to meet me by the sidewalk. "I wanted to get it on my own."

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. "So you didn't ask anyone about me I take it."

Max shook her head. Her eyes tracked to the busses and my avoidance of them. "Do you need a ride home?"

I stopped and looked out at the parking lot. Coming from a lower-middle income family had its drawbacks, the first being that I had to save money for my own car instead of having Mom and Dad buy me one. "Uh…"

"My car's over here."

It wasn't a question. It wasn't an offer. It was just a statement of fact with an unquestionable hint that I was supposed to accompany her immediately. "Thanks."

I hitched my backpack a little higher and winced at the twinge in my back at the weight. Max's gaze moved to the bundle. "Can I help you with that?"

Her offer took me by surprise. "Pardon me?"

"Your books." Max didn't wait. Instead, she grabbed the strap and effortlessly took my burden from me. At my puzzled look, she smiled. "It looked like it was heavy, but I work out. It's not a problem for me."

I almost laughed at the situation, but accepted her offer in the spirit in which it was given. "Thank you."

Halfway across the parking lot, she continued our earlier conversation like it had never ended. "So what am I missing?"

"Hmm?"

"At lunch you said that I'd made the wrong assumption. I still haven't figured out where I went wrong."

Realizing what direction the conversation was moving, I adjusted my thinking. "Whenever you are having trouble figuring out a mystery, start over at the beginning and alternate options to the mix."

One of her fingers lifted from my backpack and pointed to the left. "I'm over there. What do you mean alternate options?"

I turned a little sideways to slip between a beat up Impala and a Volvo station wagon. "Start at the beginning and tell me what you thought when you first saw me."

The car she pointed her key fob at and that made a bleep noise was a Toyota Corolla. I made my way around the passenger side and waited for Max to unsling the two backpacks she was carrying. Opening the doors at the same time, I got in the overly hot car while she swung her burden in the small back seat before climbing in herself.

After securing my seatbelt I glanced at her and saw her face flush with embarrassment. "Max, it's okay. I know what I look like."

She started up the engine and immediately set the air conditioner on maximum. "I couldn't tell if you were a boy or a girl." While I was about to calm her nerves, she continued. "You can't go by hair anymore, since boys wear their long now and yours is almost a chin bob."

I touched the brown hair that was hanging down on either side of my face. It was true. While I tried to grow it out during my short-lived Emo phase, it never really stayed straight enough. The longer it got, the more natural body filled it out making it curl.

"And your clothes are gender neutral, but that's also stylish enough these days."

Glancing down, I saw my horizontal striped, black and white pullover with my white buttondown left open and hanging. Add to that, drainpipe jeans and my All Stars, I could see how clothing wasn't a definite giveaway.

"But your shoes is what sealed the deal. I have a pair exactly like them. They're girls shoes."

I nodded, understanding exactly how she made the wrong assumption. Granted, I already knew all of this, so it wasn't a major revelation or anything. "That's cool. I understand your thinking."

Max looked relieved that I wasn't pissed off. "A lot of girls dress like you. It's not something that would set you apart from the rest of the people in the school, so that led me to think that maybe you did something to tick them off." She shrugged. "Then I just started guessing the most obvious things." Her hands were out, spreading apart. "So, at what point did I go wrong?"

I smiled, but only with my lips. "A couple of places."

She frowned and then slipped the car in reverse before backing up and heading out of the parking lot. "Where do you live?"

I pointed toward the west. "Second stop sign take a left." When she was free, she entered the flow of traffic and glanced over. "Are you going to torture me for the rest of the day or are you gonna spill?"

That brought a small chuckle from me. "Okay." I lifted my right foot and set it on my knee. "You were right about the shoes. They're girls shoes. I wear this particular style because it provides ankle support in my size. If you notice, I have small feet."

At the first stop sign she glanced at the sole and saw the size indicator, five and a half. "I'm a seven," she offered.

With a nod, I continued. "I also have abnormally narrow feet."

I could tell by the look on her face that I'd totally lost her. "What's this have to do with being an outcast? Do people really hate girls with small feet around here?"

The snort that came out of my nose and throat wasn't girlish in the least. "No, they don't care. Did you also notice that the buttons on my shirt were on the wrong side?"

"I used to swipe my brother's shirts all the time. They're more comfortable." That wasn't a point of contention at any time.

She took a left at the second stop sign. "I'm in the third house on the right."

Max pulled in front of the house and killed the motor. "Can I come in?"

I nodded before reaching in the back seat for my backpack.

"I'll get it."

"Thank you."

I was almost amused at how Max was treating me, like I was dainty and needed her help. To tell the truth, it was kind of nice. It was true that the weight of the pack was a strain on my back muscles, not to mention the added weight hurting my knees and ankles. We walked up the driveway and across the pathway in front of the house to the front door where I produced a single key from my pocket.

After entering the house, Max set my backpack by the door.

"Would you like something to drink?"

She nodded. "Water would be great."

"We have soda or juice if you prefer." But she shook her head. "Just water, please. I'm training. Have to lay off the sweets."

That interested me. "For what?"

"Baseball."

I smiled. "Oh, cool. Are you on the school team?"

Max grinned happily. "Yeah, well I will be when the season begins. Starting third base."

Now I understood how she was strong enough not to care about hauling twenty pounds of books in both of her arms. "A jock. Yeah, you definitely need to stay away from me." I laughed afterward and Max frowned playfully.

"I really wish you'd tell me what the deal is. I don't like hearing people put themselves down."

After grabbing a bottled water and a diet soda from the refrigerator I held up a finger. "If you give me a minute to change into something cooler then I'll explain." Max didn't take the hint to stay in the living room and followed behind me to my room.

While I'm not the neatest of individuals, I don't leave my clothes laying all over the place like most teens I've seen. Dozens of paperbacks were stacked on several shelves lining one wall. A small desk with a closed laptop sitting on top was off in the far corner and my unmade bed was centered on the opposite wall from the door. A chest with various knickknacks scattered atop scooted up against a small walk-in closet, which I entered.

"What's with the flag?"

I forgot about the red, blue, and white flag that hung over my door. "My family is Serbian. We're naturalized citizens. All legal and everything. Don't worry that ICE is going to break down the door and haul you away for consorting with illegals."

Her nose scrunched up a little. "Serbian? Like Czechoslovakian or something?"

I shook my head. "Former Yugoslavian, more like."

"Ah." She nodded in understanding and kept looking around my room, confused again.

I took off my buttondown and entered the closet. "We immigrated in the mid-nineties, a couple years after I was born."

"I was about say that I didn't think you had an accent, but you talk differently than most of the people I know."

Stripping off my shirt, I undid the compression vest underneath and sighed at how good it felt to be free and cool for the first time all day. "I learned formal English, and my parents are still adding new words to my vocabulary. We speak Serbian on the weekends, so I can understand what relatives are saying when we visit occasionally."

"That also explains your complexion. You have beautiful skin."

I blinked a couple of times. "Thank you."

"So," her voice changed and turned more serious. "Quit stalling."

After fastening the button on a pair of shorts, I grabbed a fresh t-shirt. "Did you ever find out my nickname?"

"No. I didn't ask anyone anything about you."

Once I was properly dressed, I sighed, regretting the inevitable. "I'm not a girl."

In place of the usual scream of 'what!' I normally get, my ears were met with silence.

"Max?"

She appeared at the closet door, open mouthed and kind of pale. Then she scowled at me and pointed. "Then what do you call those things."

"Those are my breasts. My nickname is 'Tits'."

She didn't know what to think. I sensed that she was feeling a little betrayed at the moment, like I was playing a joke on her. "I have a couple of genetic problems and a thyroid problem. The reason I'm an outcast is because of freshman year gym class." When I started to exit the closet, Max backed up, still staring at my breasts. "I sort of blossomed over the previous summer and my doctor wouldn't give me permission to be exempt from physical education, so when I was in the locker room changing, the other boys saw my compression vest." Which I held up for her to see.

"It helps me appear a little more normal." Finally having enough of ogling my C-cups, Max took another step backward and then turned in place.

"I got beat up pretty bad and then gifted with the sophomoric title of 'Tits'. That's why nobody talks to me. That's why I don't belong to any of the cliques. That's why it is social suicide to even appear like my friend."

We both stood there and I played out the last time I revealed myself to a potential friend in my head. Previously, they just walked out of the door and pretended that they didn't know about my condition or that they had even met me. I didn't really expect anything different this time around.

"If you want to leave, don't feel like you're insulting me or anything. I'm used to it." Ignoring her, I went to my desk and booted up the laptop.

Another couple of minutes dragged on before Max finally said something. "You really are a boy?"

Without looking back, I nodded. "I could show you my penis and testicles, but that would be kind of rude. I've been Karyotyped. I'm just as XY as the next guy. I think I have the hard copy of that around here somewhere."

"Sasha."

Turning in my chair, I saw how miserable Max looked. "Hey, don't worry about it. I didn't really expect you to understand. I'm a freak." She flinched at the way I described myself. "I came to grips with it in my sophomore year. Very few people will accept people like me. So, don't ruin your reputation." I shooed her away. "Go on."

"I'm not exactly one hundred percent normal either."

I almost laughed. "You're kidding. You're freaking gorgeous." My eyes drew down between her legs. "Unless…" I started laughing. "Is Max a diminutive for Maxwell?"

Her glassy eyes brightened a little. "No, Maxine. I was named after my father. I hate it."

That brought a genuine smile from me for the first time since we started this mess this morning. "Ah, good. Scared me there for a second. What would be the odds?"

She snickered and wiped the back of her hand under her nose while rolling her eyes.

"So, what's your claim to fame in the abnormality underworld. Enlarged clitoris, extra toe, third nipple, no uvula, what?"

"What's a uvula?" she asked.

I pointed to my mouth. "You know that thing that hangs down in the back of your throat that seems to serve no useful purpose?"

"There are people that don't have those?"

I nodded.

"Weird."

"Stalling."

"What?"

"You're stalling. I showed you mine, now you have to show me yours."

"Technically, you didn't show me anything."

I reached down and quickly lifted my shirt up to show my breasts for about two seconds then I dropped it. "There."

Max's mouth dropped open. "Are you sure you're not a girl? Those looked a lot like girl's breasts to me."

With a smirk, I countered. "I can still show you my penis and testicles if you doubt me."

It was obvious that she was thinking about the offer.

"You still think I'm trying to pull one over on you, don't you?"

Max's jaw worked a little, but her eyes dropped to between my legs. I stood and walked over to her. "May I see your hand for a second?"

She squinted at me in confusion, but natural reaction had her bringing her hand up. Before it got too far I grabbed it and shoved it between my legs… over my shorts, of course. I'm not a total pervert. It didn't take more than about three Mississippi's before she jerked her hand back.

"Hey!"

"Believe me now?"

"Okay, you're a boy."

I let the 'boy' comment go for the moment. Sure I wasn't exactly the most masculine guy in the world, but I had my pride. "So…"

"I'll tell you when I'm more comfortable."

I just shrugged. With the big show and tell over with, sans the show on her part, I went over to my dresser and withdrew a bra from my underwear drawer.

I reached down and took off my tee shirt.

"What are you doing?"

After picking up the bra, I set my arms through the appropriate straps and with practiced moves attached the hook and eyes in back. "They're big enough. I don't need them to sag as well."

She realized I had made a decent point and didn't look offended that I'd stripped to the waist in front of her. Nodding with approval, she added, "That's… very practical of you. I bet most guys would feel…"

"Emasculated? Less than a man? Like a transvestite?"

Her lips pursed. "I was going to say scared of wearing girls clothes."

"Yeah, well…"

"So why the girls shoes? If you're wearing that vest thingie, I assume that you're trying to pass as a guy, as much as possible."

"I have small narrow feet. I told you this already. It's impossible to find guys shoes in my size. They're too wide. Even the kids shoes. I was wearing spider-man shoes up through my freshman year. You can't imagine the amount of teasing that your peers can produce until you wear kids shoes to school."

After sitting down again, I continued. "Plus I need the ankle support. So it's either those or boots. And there are not a lot of boots in the girls section that don't have heels, thus making it impossible as unisex decision."

Max's face was a jumble of indecipherable emotions. Finally she looked at her watch. "My dad's going to have a coronary. I need to get going."

My heart sank once more. "You don't have to worry about ignoring me tomorrow."

She made a face at me. I was beginning to think that her frown was a permanent state of being for Max. "I'm not going to ignore you."

It really seemed too good to be true. That's exactly the reason that I didn't get my hopes up. "Well, just in case you change your mind."

Ignoring me was her last telling point for the day. "What time do you leave for school in the morning?"

I was thrown off by the question. "Uh… about seven-fifteen."

"Okay. See you tomorrow."

The next morning found me trussed up again in my compression vest. I sighed when I finished hooking the last eye. The hatred I held for the garment was palpable. In order to compress my breasts to the point where they somewhat emulated a young man's chest took extra effort. That where my mother came in. She purchased two vests and dismantled the eye/hook portions of one. Then she sewed them together, in effect doubling the thickness and tensile strength of the garment until it was able to press my breasts virtually flat. The end result still wasn't perfect. If I didn't wear a tee shirt and my traditional loose button down then two flat, round mounds would still be visible.

The worst part was that it was very tight, which meant that I couldn't go running or play any sports, or even get overly excited for fear of losing my breath. But it was my decision, my choice to submit myself to this daily torture in order to look 'normal'.

One other side effect of wearing the vest for seven to eight hours a day since I was thirteen, was the development of my upper torso. The first year wasn't so bad, since I was hanging around the A-B-cup range, but by my sophomore year I was a full C-cup and that's when the heavy duty vest came into being.

The problem was that my upper body was restrained in development while my lower body developed normally. I'm not saying that I stopped growing, it just wasn't as fast, so I wound up shaped like a pear -- straight and narrow from my navel on up, and my hips wound up a little wider in comparison. I didn't have a girls butt or anything, but when viewed from the front, I had their general shape, especially when my breasts were free.

I closed my eyes and remembered my counseling sessions about controlling my emotions. After a couple of minutes I'd calmed down enough to don the rest of my clothing: skinny jeans, tee shirt and button down. Struggling into my All Stars was the final step before straightening out the jeans to mold with my ankle and cover the ultra-high tops.

A light breakfast consisting of toast and a cup of coffee would hold me until lunch, which I was making when I heard the doorbell ring. Mom beat me to the front and had a smile on her face that I couldn't believe when she saw Max standing there.

"Hi, I'm Max. I'm here to offer Sasha a ride to school."

I almost joined my mother in lala land when I caught sight of what Max was wearing. Uber-tight jeans, and a top nice red top that showed off her arms. I don't know what to call the shirt; it was just, bamb! I no longer had any doubt that she worked out. Her arms were bigger than mine. It was just barely on the good side of almost too much.

Jessica Biel's body came to mind, back when she was working out a lot for action movies, but Max had a much prettier face. What I was wondering was where was she hiding all of this yesterday?

"Hi, Max."

She grinned at me. "Hi Sasha. You ready?"

I gestured to the kitchen. "I… uh, I was making my lunch."

Mom hung out, lounging on the door, watching the byplay. Max shook her head. "You're eating with me today. My treat."

I swallowed. "Okay." Glancing at my mom, she gave me an expectant look that told me I'd have some stories to be telling at the dinner table that evening. "I'll just go and clean up, then."

"'I'll get it, Sasha. You go ahead with your girl friend." She almost stuttered that last word, definitely separating girl and friend, but not by too much.

Max spotted my backpack by the door and before I could grab it, it was in her hand and being tossed over her shoulder. On the way down the driveway is when I couldn't take it anymore. "You realize, of course that my mother now thinks we're dating."

Max snorted.

"I just want to make this clear that it's all your fault, so when things go bad, you'll know who to blame."

She was still grinning evilly. "You worry too much Sasha." When we reached the passenger side, she used the key to open the lock. "Stupid automatic locks don't work on my fob anymore."

I didn't feel to weird knowing that since she opened my door for me and closed it when I got in. After leaning over and unlocking the drivers side I looked back at the house to see Mom still at the front door watching the whole scene. "Gheeze. She's getting creepy in her old age."

After depositing my backpack in the back, alongside hers, Max started up the car and made tracks for school.

"You look gorgeous today, by the way."

She turned to me and grinned, showing me a lot of teeth. "Thank you."

"You weren't kidding about working out, were you?" I reached for her bicep and she tensed it for me. Wow.

"I've got to keep in shape. I plan on breaking a lot of school records this season."

Of that I have no doubt. "Good luck with that."

"Thanks. You'll come to the games, right?"

"Uh…"

"Come on. I need a cheering section and you're the only person I know." Then she grinned again. "Plus, I'll tell your mom and she'll make sure you support your girlfriend."

"You're evil. You know that?"

"I try."

While I may seem like I'd jump at the chance to take advantage of the door she opened up, let's just say that I didn't have the fortitude to follow through. I'd never had a girlfriend and I'd only been on one semi-date in my entire life. That was before my breasts, junior high, seventh grade, my first dance. I'd worked up the nerve to ask a girl; Mom drove us to the dance. We'd only danced one song before she took off because her friends laughed at her for stepping on my toes, twice.

I really didn't care all that much, but she did.

That was my whole dating experience. So maybe you can see how an eighteen year old guy might have issues.

Just like yesterday, Max carried my books. Except this time, people were watching. She had both bags slung around her left shoulder and was walking strangely close to me. I tried to give her some room, maybe thinking she was being thrown off balance by the weight or something, but she closed the space just as quick. Maybe my internal alert system was fried because of the attention overload, but I didn't see Jason Hartley cutting me off at the front door.

He slammed into me accidentally/on purpose before grabbing the door and slinging it open. Luckily Max was there and I didn't go flying. Her arm steadied me and I made a pained grab for my shoulder that Jason wrenched.

I'd never seen someone move so fast. Max, not Jason. Maybe he was moving slow, because the millisecond Max saw I was standing on my own, she reached out and grabbed Jason's backpack, stopping him and driving him into the doorframe.

"Hey, asshole! You just hurt someone." Max turned her head around and looked at me. "You okay, Sasha?"

I winced at the thought of the oncoming bruise to my arm, so I just shrugged. During this time, Jason finally came to his senses and Max closed in on him. "You touch him again and I will end you. Now apologize."

He peered back at me and gave Max a stupid look. "I'm not…"

Clang!

That time I winced for Jason's head against the metal doorframe again. Ouch.

"I said apologize."

He blinked to clear his vision. "Sorry."

With a nod from me to Max she let him go. She gave a particularly nasty look to the growing crowd behind us. "Spread the word. If I see so much as a bruise on Sasha from here on out, then you're dealing with me." Her face and posture eased back when her eyes found me. "You sure you're okay, baby?"

I crooked an eyebrow at her and then nodded. She stepped into me and slid a possessive arm around my waist. "Come on, lets get you to class."

She held me tight to her body and her hand found a perch on my side, just above my hip. When we'd cleared the area and were relatively alone in the hall, well, as alone as you can be with people passing by all the time, she leaned into me. "Sorry about the 'baby' thing. Bullies just get me so mad and I was worried."

I shook my head, unbelievably. "You just declared me your boyfriend in front of about fifty of our classmates. You know this, right?"

She shrugged.

"Is there something you maybe want to tell me, Max?"

I saw her eyes dart to me and then back down the hall. "Uh, where's your locker?"

"English hall, Miss Avoidance. Where's yours?"

She frowned. "Math." Which was two halls over.

I let the issue go until we reached my locker and Max leaned up against the neighboring one. Midway through dumping off ninety percent of my stuff Terry Nicholson cleared his throat at Max. "Excuse me. Can I get to my locker?"

She eyed him. "I want to switch with you. I'm in the math hallway, 2211."

He blinked at her. "But that's my locker."

She reached into her pocket and withdrew a small wad of bills. Peeling off a twenty, she held it out to him. "Switch with me. Come on. I want to be next to Sasha here."

Terry looked at me and then got the strangest expression on his face. Then he looked at the twenty. "Let me get my stuff out."

Max graced him with a smile. "Thanks!"

They exchanged combinations and she unloaded the majority of her stuff off as well. I just stood by and watched.

"Why are you doing this?"

Her eyes ticked to me, briefly. "Would you be my boyfriend?"

I've really got to get my hearing checked. Putting off regular examinations can be hazardous to your mental wellbeing. If the brain can't hear something properly then it tries its best to interpret whatever it does hear. This leads to badness. For instance, Mom made a comment about her hair last night and I could have sworn that she said, 'I'm a jelly doughnut.'

So, when I heard Max ask me to be her boyfriend, I'm sure she probably said something along the lines of, 'I think the Red Sox are going to win the pennant this year.' In fact I'm sure that's what it was.

"Uh…"

She looked a little nervous and I think my compression vest was kind of tight. That was probably why I was having trouble breathing at the moment.

Max's expression took on a concerned type look. "Sasha, are you okay? You're looking kind of pale."

The edges of my vision stared closing in and little spots formed right over her beautiful face.

"Give me a towel or something… thanks."

"His mother has already been called. You need to get back to class, Miss Slade."

"Can I stay at least until he wakes up, please?"

I heard a sigh before opening my eyes. "Max?"

"Sasha! You're killing me here. Second day of classes and you're in the nurses office."

I tried to sit up, but she held me down. "Just take it easy. You're kind of bare-chested at the moment."

Reaching up to feel my towel covered breasts, I screwed up my face. "What happened?"

"You fainted."

Nuh-uh. "I didn't faint."

She nodded at me, kind of smiling. "Your vest is too tight. Maybe you should get a bigger one."

This time I took a page from her book and frowned. "Well maybe if…" I stopped and looked at the nurse who seemed very interested in our conversation. "Can I help you with something?"

When she turned around and started scribbling, I lowered my voice to a whisper. "Maybe if you didn't pop stressful questions at me then I wouldn't have gotten excited and lost my breath."

She grinned. "You got excited?"

Frown again. I can actually see where this would be a useful facial gesture for a person in my state. "It's an expression that sometimes means agitated or upset."

Max let that go for a moment. "So, you never gave me an answer before you fainted."

"Are you always going to treat me like this?"

She shrugged. "Probably, but you like the banter and there will most likely be kissing involved at some point."

I almost cracked a smile, but held myself back. So she was right. I didn't have to let her know that. Instead, I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Fine, if it will make you feel better, then yes. I'll be your boyfriend."

She snickered and whispered, "Yay!" Then I got all excited again when she leaned in and gave me a soft kiss, which was promptly interrupted by the nurse clearing her throat. Maybe if she didn't smoke four packs of cigarettes a day she wouldn't have that phlegm problem. My first kiss that didn't involve a blood relation -- not that I do that sort of thing -- and I have to hear someone gargling with their spit. Nice and romantic isn't it? All we need now is Peggy and Selma Simpson to sing 'That's Amore' then everything will be perfect.

Mom was all panicky, Max had to go back to class, and I got the day off for losing consciousness… not fainting. Really, it was on the nurses report and everything. I tried my best to get Mom to go back to work and leave me to fend for myself, but with my health problems she's been hovering over me for most of my life.

This led her to having me lay on the couch sipping some nauseating Serbian home remedy specifically for putting nutrients in your body. So, of course it tasted like horse urine.

"Tell me about this girl that carried you to the nurse."

I almost dropped my mug, and I stress almost with great regret. Maybe if I can get her to ask me something really off-putting then I can get away with actually dropping it.

I don't know why I was surprised that Max carried me down three hallways to the nurses office. It seemed exactly like a thing she would and could accomplish, judging by the size of her arms.

"Her name is Max. She's the new girl."

"I like her."

Of course you do.

"You treat her nice, Sasha. Not every girl would go out of her way to carry her boyfriend across the school."

Was she kidding? No girlfriend could do that! We're an anomaly. I just so happen to skirt on the plus side of a hundred pounds, barely. Max could probably bench press me a dozen times easy.

"It was just a couple of hallways down. I wasn't on the other side of the school, Mom."

She wouldn't have any backtalk. "Nevertheless, this girl has taken a special interest in you. You should have seen your face this morning. I can tell when my little boy is in love."

That made me chuckle a little. "Mom, I've only known her for a day. I'm sure we're not going to get married any time in the near future." And that was lust, by the way, not love.

Hours went by while Mom grilled me about my intentions, plans, future events that Max and I would partake in. While I was getting kind of tired of it, I understood my mother's exuberance. I'd never dated before and now I have a girlfriend turn up out of the blue. She was probably on of the lower levels of heaven at the moment, one that was specifically dedicated to a mother's joy for her children. Even if it was unrealistic, and Max would probably dump me after she realized how much her social life would be affected, it was nice to see her happy for now.

Once two o'clock rolled around. She all but pushed me into the shower. "Wear something nice and brush your hair."

"Mom, I don't even know if she's stopping by after school."

I received the evil eye for that comment. "Max will come by. You were ill this morning. She will want to check up on you." Turning me around Mom popped me on the butt. "Now go."

'Something nice' consisted of my jeans from the morning -- they were the newest ones I owned -- and a unisex tee shirt. It was a bright shade of blue and somewhat figure hugging. Since I'd donned my bra, it pushed together my breasts a little and put them on display. I figured that if Max wanted to be my girlfriend, then she would have to face the bad as well as the good. Her boyfriend displaying larger breasts than hers would probably make that point stand out.

Mom saw what I was wearing and frowned at me.

"It's the style now."

She grabbed my hand and dragged me into her bedroom. "Sit."

With an exaggerated sigh, I bounced down on the edge of the bed and rolled my eyes.

"You'll at least wear some nice shoes. Those runners of yours are awful, Sasha."

"They're in style, Mom."

She disappeared into her closet. "Style or no, my little boy will not look like a vagabond."

I was doomed to be her 'little boy' forever. Standing at five-three doomed me to that fact. "Could you make sure not to call me that in front of Max, please?"

Her head popped back out and she smiled warmly at me. "You'll always be my little boy, Sasha. Even when you're fifty years of age." Vanishing again for a few moments, I looked up again when I heard a noise of discovery. "Yes, these will do."

When Mom reappeared she was holding a pair of black loafers that I immediately made a face at. Not only were they decidedly girlish, they didn't even have any ankle support.

"I know what you are going to say," she said as she held up a hand to forestall my complaints. "Just try them on first."

Like I'd said before, they were black loafers. The tongue came high enough that none of my foot would be showing, but there was a large silver buckle on the outside of the arch and there was a thick heel in the back that rose about an inch, maybe an inch and a half in height. In other words, there was no disguising the fact that they were girls shoes.

Mom set them on the floor by my feet, and I so as to placate her, I slipped my feet into them… or tried to. They got a little hung up as I worked them over my heel. "They're too tight, Mom."

Yes, she has smaller feet than me. A half size to be exact. That's where I got my height and feet from, her.

Without a second thought, she stepped to a chest of drawers and withdrew a pair of those knee high pantyhose things, or stockings, whatever. The point is, they weren't socks. "Here put these on."

I was about to argue, but what was the point? She'd force me and we'd wind up in an argument. If Max did by chance happen to drop by, then I didn't want her to hear Mom and I arguing in Serbian, which we would. Instead I took the socks from her and pulled my jean leg up to slide one of them on.

She saw what I was about to do and stopped me. "Roll them up your leg, Sasha. They are not socks. You'll tear them."

Breathing a calming breath through my nose, I did as she indicated, then again with my other leg before trying the shoes again. By another horrid twist of fate, my feet slid into the loafers like they were custom made just for me.

Mom smiled. "Now stand up and let me get a look at you."

I was wrong about the tops of my feet not showing. There was at least a full inch that showed from my arch and the hem of my jeans.

"They're perfect for you, Sasha."

"Mom," I whined. "My ankles."

She poo-pooed me with a swath of her hand. "Nonsense. When was the last time you tripped because of your ankles or knees?"

That wasn't the point. "Summer after freshman year. But I've been wearing hightops since then and I haven't had an accident because of that."

"Pah!" She dismissed my reasoning. "You'll make a good impression for your girlfriend and we'll have no more discussion on the subject. Understood?"

At my reluctant nod I was escorted over to her makeup table and seated. No, I wasn't going to slap on a thick layer of war paint. It was where Mom cut my hair. "You're in need of a little trim. Now sit still."

While she didn't overdo the cutting, she made sure to brush my hair out a little bit more than normal, basically until it was dry. The ends had a slight curl to them and the rest was straight, for once. Usually I just add a little gel and let it dry by itself, which results in my natural curl settling in. When I looked at the mirror afterward, it appeared I was ready for a date. Sometimes I just don't understand my mother.

"I do wish you'd let me straighten up your eyebrows, Sasha. There's nothing wrong with being neat. The boys on television are always nice and neat."

"Not always."

While I didn't have a unibrow or anything, they were closing in year after year. Eventually I'd have to start plucking them to make sure of proper separation, but that day was still a few years off.

"Now, walk around and get used to your new shoes. I want to see you wearing them more often."

With a feeling of doom hanging over my head, I stood and felt the air hitting my ankles. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it didn't feel natural at all. Having them covered up for so long exacerbated the experience, not to mention the feeling of the nylon covering my calves was a new sensation. Kind of itchy if I had to tell the truth.

"Do you think that I could go out and maybe buy some that are less… female looking?"

Mom looked slightly sad. "Darling, you know that your father only recently found a new job. His lay-off caused our bills to be behind. Perhaps after a few months when we are better off. Until then, I have several shoes that you may use. I'll even purchase a few pair of knee-highs for you."

Dad's unemployment for a span of six months had landed us in slight financial trouble, going from upper-middle to the lower-middle income bracket. We had to cut back on our household expenditures quite a bit. I hadn't bought any new clothes, or anything else for that matter, in probably over a year. Thank goodness that he always overpaid the mortgage on our home, setting us well over a year ahead of schedule. When we had to send in less than usual, we didn't have to default like so many other American as of late.

That didn't mean I had to like it.

What I didn't like was their absolute refusal to let me work during the school year. My studies took precedence. The only time I could hold down a job was during the summer or a seasonal position come the Christmas holidays. So times like those of late were harder than normal without my meager income helping out.

However, Dad had started his new job two weeks ago and it looked like it was going to pay even more than before. We just had to catch up on our bills before returning to the lifestyle that we'd enjoyed before the most recent recession.

I was standing in front of the mirror in my bedroom when I was started out of my musings by a quiet knock at my door. After jumping a little, I spun in place and saw Max standing there grinning like a lark.

"Hey."

"Hey."

She stepped in and I glanced down, feeling my face reddening. When she was close enough, I felt her lips on my cheek. "You look beautiful, Sasha."

"Thanks. Mom wanted me to look nice for you if you stopped by after school."

She took my hands in hers and smiled. "Well, I'd say mission accomplished. I think you look great. It's nice to see you not all covered up."

I nodded. It felt nice. Especially since I wasn't wearing my vest.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine. It wasn't a big deal. I just lost my breath. I was fine after I got home."

I heard footsteps nearing the bedroom. "Max," Mom called, "would you like something to eat? You must be hungry after a long day at school."

"Thank you Mrs. Petrovitch, but I'm in training. I have to watch my diet. Some water would be nice though."

Mom smiled at her, happy as could be. "Sasha," she said expectantly.

I took the hint and waited on my guest. "Yes ma'am." A couple of minutes later and we were back in the living room with Max sifting through her backpack.

"I got your homework from most of your classes. It's not too much."

Fingering my hair behind my ear, I saw Mom give me an exaggerated eye before I released it back to hang beside my face.

"That was very considerate of you, Max." I think my mother was in love with my girlfriend more than I was. It was creepy.

"Oh, it was no problem."

I was about to cross my legs, but with the addition to my new wardrobe I didn't exactly feel like advertising the fact I was wearing hose for socks to the world, much less Max. So I settled for sitting forward and tucking my feet out of the way as much as possible. This resulted in my pressing my legs together and to one side. Not the most masculine of poses, but it created the desired effect of hiding my shoes.

Max, looked at me again. "Are you sure you're feeling okay, Sasha?"

I nodded.

"He's just fine," Mom answered for me. "It's happened in the past. That awful vest he wears restricts his breathing."

I rolled my eyes slightly in response. "That awful vest keeps me from being assaulted, Mom."

Max's hand slid over to mine. "Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore." She eyed me critically for a few moments. "Would you be up to going out?"

I looked to Mom for her okay and received a smile in return. "You kids get out and get some air. It's not healthy to stay inside all day long. Dinner will be ready by six. Please have him home by then, Max. You are welcome to join us if you'd like."

Mom received a consolatory smile in response. "Thank you, Mrs. Petrovitch. I'd have to check with my father for another time. He's expecting me home today."

Mom nodded. "Just let me know. Consider the invitation ongoing. It would be a pleasure to have you anytime."

"That's sweet, thank you."

Max rose and held her hand out to me, which I took in turn.

"Oh, I didn't notice your shoes. Are they new?"

I shrugged. "Kind of. Mom wants to wean me off of my All Stars."

"Well they look great on you. Come on."

Mom gave me a satisfied smile and headed to the door. "Do you have your key, sweetie, just in case I have to run to the store?"

I patted my front pocket. "I'll be right back, Max."

Where normally I would increase my pace, not quite run, to my room, I wasn't really trusting the heels on mom's loafers too much. So it took me longer than normal to retrieve my small billfold, and house key before returning to the front door. Mom was holding on to Max's upper arm and looking quite pleased with herself as they spoke in whispered tones.

Max turned to me. "All ready?"

I nodded and tried to stuff my wallet in my back pocket, but the jeans I was wearing were a little too tight.

"You can put them in my purse if you want, Sasha."

"Thanks."

This time, Max was parked in the driveway. She unlocked and opened my door for me again, waiting until I was settled before closing it. I unlocked her door and worked on my seatbelt. This time I had to adjust it for my breasts. It's one of the downsides of having mounds on your chest. Seatbelts rarely fit properly.

Once we were under way, Max startled me by jumping a little in her seat. "Oh, I forgot." I saw her twisting a ring off of her finger and then handed it over. "Since I asked and you accepted, you have to wear my class ring."

I snickered at the gender turnaround, but accepted the hunk of gold with a blue sapphire as its center-stone. "It's pretty." And big. "This isn't a girl's ring."

She nodded her head. "Yeah, it was the only way to get the baseball symbol that I wanted on the side. The girls rings were too small."

Each finger I tried, in turn, showed that it was far too big for any of them, even my thumb. Max's hands didn't look that big. I guess my feet weren't the only things that were small on my body. "It's too big for my hands. I'll need a necklace, or I can wrap some yarn or something underneath so it will fit."

When we came to a stop light, Max reached up behind her neck and undid her own necklace, passing it over. "You can use this."

I swallowed at seeing how dainty it appeared, but I wasn't going to refuse the gift. After slipping the opened end through the ring I did up the clasp behind my neck and let it hang halfway between my neck and breasts. It looked decidedly girlish in appearance.

"There." Max smiled and looked satisfied. "Now everyone knows you're taken."

My face heated up again. "I don't think it's ever been an issue before."

"Well, now it is. I'm not sharing you with anyone."

Conflicting emotions ran through my chest and stomach. On one hand it felt wonderful to finally be in some sort of relationship, even if it was brand new. On the other, I was well aware that our gender roles were being swapped. Max had taken on the duty of protector and director of our newly formed relationship, and here I was in heels, hose, and girlish necklace, not to mention the bra, breasts, and general female appearance I exuded. I didn't know how to feel about that.

While I wanted to be accepted for who I am, I wasn't exactly sure who that person was.

Being treated by Max, like I was her little woman, was kind of nice. I felt safe for the first time in about four years. The one thing I wasn't too sure about was going out displaying my assets for everyone to see. I wasn't exactly the social butterfly that most teens were. I didn't go shopping unless I absolutely needed to, so spending any measurable time in the public was limited.

Movies and most entertainment venues were out unless I wanted to go with my parents. Even I'm not that hard up for companionship. That led me to stay at home a lot. So you might be able to understand my concern about going out at the moment.

"Where are we going?"

Max shrugged. "I thought maybe we'd just hang out at the mall. I need to pick some new gloves. The padding in my old ones are worn."

That sent a little chill down my spine. Max noticed and set her free hand on my leg. "What's wrong?"

"I don't have my vest."

She squeezed my leg and then slid her hand inside, possessively. "I really don't like what it does to you, Sasha. You shouldn't wear that thing. It's not normal for people to faint because they can't breath properly."

My lips pressed together with nervousness. "But…"

"No buts. Nobody is going to hurt you while I'm around. You can be yourself. That means breasts and all, okay?"

I nodded with an affirmative, but deep inside I was as scared as I'd ever been before. Nobody had ever seen my breasts while they were their current size. I didn't even have my button down for camouflage. "Okay."

The mall wasn't overly crowded, but there was a decent amount of people there for a weekday afternoon. We parked by one of the main entrances and I took my time climbing out of the Corolla. Max met me on my side and closed my door for me. Her hand slid around my back and settled on the thinnest portion of my waist above my hip. Admitting to myself that particular position made me feel a little safer was the first step. Slumping my shoulders and trying to concave my chest was other.

"What are you doing?"

I sighed, feeling like I was busted. "Trying to make myself smaller."

She laughed lightly. "Baby, you aren't going to be able to hide them, so do the opposite, be proud of them."

"Huh?" Why was it I felt less intelligent displaying a more feminine persona?

"Stand straight, push them out. Show everyone that you aren't intimidated by what anyone thinks."

I huffed. "That's easy for you to say."

Max pulled me to a stop and stepped in front of me to face my accusation. "How do you think I felt when I used to be teased about being too muscular, looking like a guy? It might not have been as bad as what you've gone through, but it was bad enough."

I protested. "You don't look like a guy!"

She smiled at me. "Thank you. But I didn't always look like this. I've grown my hair out and I take great pains to make sure my face is made up and I wear the right clothes that show girl more than guy. I'm much more comfortable with short hair and no makeup. I like regular clothes and not the feminine stuff that I have to wear in order to pass muster."

My jaw worked, but nothing came out.

"But I thought with you, I could be who I really am, just like you can be with me. Was I wrong?"

I shook my head with regret. "Does that mean you're going to cut your hair?" I might have said that with a little whine to my voice. I really liked her hair. What could I say? Max smiled. "Not if you like it the way it is. During baseball season I normally wear it up in a ponytail a lot though. It's easier to deal with that way."

It was easy deducing her intent at that point. "You want to be more masculine and you want me to be more feminine. That's why you're treating me like a girl."

Max took a breath and I could tell she wasn't exactly ready to have this conversation yet. "Kind of. Well, yeah. You're right."

"That's why you wanted to find a boy that was 'different' yesterday."

She leaned to the right. "You're making it sound all Machiavellian." At my lack of response she conceded. "Yeah, I was looking for an Emo boy or one that was less masculine than I am, but…" She reached for an explanation that I would accept. It was obvious. "Well, you came along."

"A guy with breasts."

"Yeah… no… you're taking this the wrong way."

"Max, level with me," I insisted.

She sighed, defeated. "When I first saw you, I thought 'boy'! But then I wasn't sure. Then we kind of got to know one another a little. That's the main reason I offered you a ride home yesterday. Even though you weren't a boy, I liked you and wanted to be your friend. Then I found out that you were a boy."

I nodded in understanding.

A car passed us and a guy hung out of the window. "Hey, it's Tits!" The car braked and Max shot them a murderous glare. The guy that yelled the insult slid back in his window and after a few seconds it moved on.

Ignoring the interruption, I continued. "So what is it you expect me to do? Wear dresses, and high heels? Maybe some makeup?"

"No!" Max snapped at me. I stepped back and she realized what she did. "I'm sorry. Those guys got me angry. I didn't mean to take it out on you, really." Seeing my unsure expression, she tried to make up for it. "Sasha, you don't have to do anything you don't want. If you want to wear what you're wearing now then that's cool with me. I just don't want you endangering yourself with that stupid vest."

I pursed my lips, still not knowing her ultimate plan. "And?"

If I didn't know any better, I'd swear she was a guy by her body language. Her shoulder slumped and she shuffled her feet. "I'll make a deal with you, okay?"

"What kind of deal?"

"Just keep an open mind. Try out new things. If you don't like them I won't pressure you. Same goes with me. If you want me to try something out then I'll do it. I won't make any promises that I'll continue if I don't like it, but I won't say no just because I'm scared of what people might think."

Seeing that I was teetering on the wall of indecision she offered an example. "You said that you liked my long hair, and I said I liked it shorter, but I'll keep it if you want. Stuff like that."

Standing there on the blacktop, I was getting hot in the August sun. I reached out my hand and took hers in mine. "If I don't like it then I don't have to continue doing it, right?"

"Absolutely."

Was I giving in because I dearly wanted to be accepted by my new girlfriend? I don't know.

"Okay."

Sportstown was rather busy with the various jocks shopping for whatever it is jocks shop for during football season: muscle building powders, jock-straps, anal lube, whatever. Max led me over to the weightlifting section and perused the display of fingerless gloves with padding in the palms so one doesn't develop nasty calluses. She tried on several pair until she found one that she was satisfied with.

"See anything you like?"

I looked around the various barbells and weight machines and shook my head.

"I don't guess you're much into fitness," she concluded.

I shrugged. "I can't really workout or anything."

She cocked her head. "Why not? Your condition?"

"Yeah. I don't exactly have the strongest bones, and my joints are kind of weak. It makes pushing myself… well, it hurts and not in a good way."

As we made our way to the cashier I spotted a couple of guys from our school eyeing me with stunned expressions on their faces. Their eyes were firmly glued to my chest. In response, I closed in on Max until she put her arm around me then I looked away.

When it was our turn, Max paid and as she was signing the credit card receipt, I know I heard my nickname. Soon enough we'd left the store and I breathed a sigh of relief. We spent the next thirty or so minutes walking around the mall, window shopping and getting familiar with the store locations. I was surprised about how much it had changed in the few years that I hadn't shopped there.

"Max, can we sit down for a second. My legs are hurting."

I wasn't used to all of the walking around and my knees were protesting the abuse.

We found an empty bench and Max sat on one end, holding up her arm so I could lean against her.

"I like this," she proclaimed. "Sitting here with my boyfriend, enjoying the afternoon."

I nodded. "Yeah." It was nice. Aside from the morons in the parking lot and the comments at Sportstown it was a pretty good day.

"Hey, what size are you?"

"Hmm?"

I looked up at what she was staring at across the way.

"Your shirt size. Small, extra-small?"

"Extra."

Sensing something that I wasn't going to be too pleased with concerning the girls clothing store directly in front of us I went ahead and cut her off. "I don't have money for clothes, Max."

"Who said anything about you paying? And I didn't say we were buying anything anyway. I was just wondering what you would look like in a scoop neck."

That didn't sound ominous at all. I'm trying out for the Rockettes this Christmas as well. "Scoop neck?"

She nodded. "See that green top on the second mannequin, right side. That's a scoop neck."

The specific article of clothing was form fitting, much like what I was already wearing, but it had really short sleeves that didn't even go completely over the shoulders and didn't possess a neck whatsoever. Instead it dipped halfway down the mannequin's chest exposing fake plastic white breasts.

"You're serious?"

"Uh-huh." She looked down at me like there was absolutely nothing odd about her request whatsoever. "You've got the collarbones to pull it off."

My right hand came up to feel the protrusions to the left side of my neck. "Uh…"

"How about we go pick one out and see how it looks?"

I stalled for as long as was humanly possible, before giving in. "No promises, right?"

She nodded. "Just try it out and if you don't like it then we walk out the door without looking back."

Max stood and held her hand out to me. I knew my face was reddening, but I took a hold and followed her inside. We browsed for a few minutes before agreeing on an emerald green top that were supposed to bring out the green in my eyes. I was kind of nervous about going into the dressing room, but since there was nobody else shopping in the store at the time, I ducked inside.

It took all of thirty seconds to swap shirts. The rest of the two minutes Max allowed me were spent staring at the exposed tops of my breasts. There was no way I could wear this. It screamed girl, or more to the point, young woman. Especially with the guys style class ring hanging in my cleavage.

"Sasha?"

I opened the curtain to see Max standing there. Her curious face transformed. "Oh wow. You're hot."

"I can't wear this."

"Why not? Well, obviously you need a different bra. That utilitarian style you have is okay for your regular shirts, but whoa. A nice demi bra and bam!"

"Exactly the reason I can't wear this."

She held out a hand to my arm. "Baby, stop and breathe for a second. Look at yourself." She pointed to the mirror in the small room. "This time be objective. Don't think about what others would think. Think about how it looks on you."

I tired my best to blank out what it would be like to wear the thing in public and just looked at myself. Max stepped inside and shuffled around in front of me. "Here. Let me fix this."

She took a hold of my standard white bra and folded the cup a little until it was almost out of sight and then did the same with the other. Having someone, other than me, touch my breasts created a reaction that I normally get when I enter cold rooms. When Max saw those little protrusions, she smiled just a little evilly. Leaning in, she pressed her lips to mine. It was the first time we were able to really kiss. Meeting her tongue and doing a little dance with mine sent my reactions even more excited than they were previously. I was kind of stupefied when she backed off and slid around to where she was to start.

My eyes focused and I saw what she saw. There in the mirror was a pretty girl. I wouldn't call her hot, but she was definitely pretty. "Okay, I look good."

"Excellent. Okay, hold on a second before you switch back to your other top. There was something else that I saw that you might like."

I groaned, but stood in place, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Only a minute passed before she was back. "I didn't know which style would fit you best, so try all three and see."

Three pair of jeans were foisted off onto me. They were all black. With a brief frown, I kicked off my shoes and wiggled out of my skinny jeans before slipping into the first pair. I wrinkled my nose at the sight of excess material in the seat. I didn't have the butt to pull this one off. The second pair fit like a soft glove all over my lower body. The denim was kind of stretchy and my butt fitted well. The only difference in style was the fact that they rose really high over my hips and settled right at my navel where they were buttoned. Reluctantly, I admitted to myself that they fit better than the guys jeans.

"All done?"

"Hold on a sec." I slipped my loafers on and it gave me a finished look. "Okay."

The curtain opened. "God, I'm good. Those shoes go perfectly with that outfit. Turn around." Once I made a complete circle she nodded. "I thought so. You'll need different underwear too. Okay change back and hand those out. I'll go pay for them and meet you at the counter."

When I spotted the price tag hanging from the belt loop I nearly had a coronary. "Max… it's too much."

"What?" She grabbed the tag and rolled her eyes. "You've got a lot to learn about womens clothes, Sasha. Fifty dollars is cheap for a pair of jeans that do what those did to your body. I've paid well over a hundred for great jeans. This is nothing. Get dressed."

Speeding through donning my old clothes, I slipped my loafers back on and nearly raced to the counter to see the final total. A hundred and sixty-seven thirty-nine?! How much was the shirt?

I tried my best not to freak out right there. It was difficult, not impossible. Making a grab for the bag, I was cut off by Max's hand. "I can carry it."

She wasn't going to let me see the other price tag. It was a tee shirt for crying out loud. And not even enough material to make a whole one. There was no way a tee shirt costs hundred and ten dollars.

"I really wish you wouldn't worry so much, Sasha. I have the money. It's not a problem."

I grabbed her upper arm and walked beside her as we exited. "Max, that's a lot of money. I could buy five or six outfits in boys clothes for that much."

She agreed. "Yeah, but they wouldn't look near as good."

My frayed nerves and I were escorted to a lingerie store where Max bought three plain demi bras and two packages of panties which were added to the large bag from the clothing store earlier. By this time, I was just along for the ride. I'd totally given up trying to talk her out of anything. We'd even went into Wilsons Leather where I had to browse jackets while Max made a purchase that she wouldn't let me observe. She told me it wasn't something to wear so I didn't have to worry about it. That just made me all the more curious.

"Okay, we're done."

"Thank God."

I got laughed at, but there were hugs included. By the time we made it back, it was four-thirty and Mom was curious about what we'd bought. Probably because I had about twenty dollars in spending cash for the week and Max toted in three bags, one of which bulged.

She made me stay out of my room while she made up an outfit for me, so I couldn't go through the rest of the bags.

"Okay, everything is on your bed. Put it all on and keep your shoes. I'll warn your mom what to expect so don't worry." She pecked my lips and headed out to the living room.

There wasn't any surprise about the clothes. It was the same outfit I tried on at the store. The only difference was the demi bra and the weird panties. The bra didn't provide near the support as my regular ones, but it was a necessity considering how much skin was exposed. It was plain enough and white, so no frills were involved, which kind of eased my mind. The panties were really thin and stretchy, made out of some type of nylon material. Then it clicked. Panty lines. That's what she meant at the store when she made me turn around. My regular tighty-whiteys probably showed through. Okay, I could deal with that.

When I'd donned everything, I felt decidedly different. There wasn't an article of clothing on my body that could be considered guys clothes. Why did this disturb me to a degree? I knew who I was on the inside, and it wasn't a girl. Instead, it was a guy that wanted to look as pretty for his girlfriend as he could.

I slipped on my loafers and stopped by my dresser to brush out my hair again. After setting the brush aside I stayed there and fingered Max's ring thinking about what I'd been through that day. There was a purplish bruise on my right bicep that Jason Hartley left for me from the front door incident, but other than that my olive-colored skin was unblemished.

The mall was fun and stressful, but the most exciting experience I'd felt in years. The ring Max gave me to show I was taken and I was hers.

I set it back at the top of my cleavage, which was a little more pronounced due to the lift the demi bra gave me. With a cleansing breath I turned and made my way out to the living room.

"Oh, Sasha." Mom was speechless. I wasn't too sure whether it was a good or bad thing at the moment so I waited it out. "Your Max tried to tell me, but I didn't…"

Max was glowing. "Doesn't he look gorgeous, Mrs. Petrovitch?"

With instructions to wear that very same outfit to school tomorrow and the current location of my wallet, Max kissed me and set out to her house.

Mom followed me into the bedroom and I found the rest of the bags in my closet. I came to find out that Max didn't spend a hundred and sixty dollars on just one outfit. She's bought me two pairs of jeans, another in blue, and three scoop necks, the others in white and red. Enough panties to wear all the time and three bras.

The Wilsons Leather bag held, what I thought was a purse at first, but after inspection turned out to be an organizer bag. It was plain enough in black leather, almost like one of those man-bags I'd seen guys toting around. But the implication of carrying it with me, dressed like I was, would appear to be a large purse. Additionally, she'd included what Mom called a clutch wallet.

It looked longer than my regular wallet and just held more spaces for credit cards, with an additional pocket inside. There was also a zippered enclosure for cash. It wasn't really all that feminine, but again the implications were there if taken as a whole with the clothing I was wearing.

"Sasha, all of this couldn't have been cheap. That purse alone has to be eighty to a hundred dollars."

I pressed my lips together. "It's an organizer bag, not a purse. And the tag reads that it's on sale for forty-four dollars." It was a weak argument, I know. "I tried to get her to stop, but she kept on insisting. She kept going on about how we'd just try something on and didn't have to buy it, then by the time I'd gotten to the register she'd already paid for everything."

Mom sighed. "Well, I can't say she has bad taste. Everything she bought you is very nice, and you are very pretty in that outfit." She paused before giving me a concerned glance. "Is this what you want, Sasha?"

I shrugged.

"Honey, it's one thing to wear the occasional dress shoes or even a bra. You don't have a lot of options in those areas if you want to fit in, but this new look of yours. Is there anything there that isn't female?"

I shook my head.

"Even panties?"

With a nod I confirmed her assumptions. "Max said I needed them so I wouldn't have lines."

Mom gave me an agreeable expression. "She's correct. Those type of jeans are very thin and show everything." Following the direction she was looking, I shifted a little. "You might considering tucking certain things underneath so you aren't as obvious."

She stood abruptly. "Let me know by tomorrow morning how you plan to proceed. If this is something you want to pursue then I can help you. If not then you still have time to change back into your boy clothes. After you leave for school, it will be too late."

I nodded and waited until she left before I changed out of my new clothes into a pair of shorts and regular tee. There I was again, a boy. I wasn't trying to play around with semantics. I was a guy in my head, but little less than a boy in body. If the breasts weren't there, I'd look like an eleven or twelve year old. The problem was simple enough. Did I want to hide myself, my true self behind concealing clothes and try to be someone that I wasn't, or did I want to embrace the body that was given me and make of it the best possible body that I could.

My specific problems couldn't be solved with a magical operation. A few pills, taken everyday, keep me from descending into a broken and useless body in just a few years. The outlook for being able to enter into traditional manhood wasn't good at all. But Max showed me that day another option was available.

"Mom?"

She was finishing up making dinner while Dad was changing after arriving home from his new job. "Yes, Sasha."

I didn't say anything, only standing there picking at my fingers with nervous energy drew her attention. "Sweetheart?"

A small smile tweaked the corners of my mouth. "You've already come to a decision haven't you?" She was always able to see through me. I nodded.

Looking back in the direction of my parents bedroom I turned to my mother. "Can you teach me?"

She looked at me and tried to measure my level of commitment. "If I do this then you will learn everything, not just what you think is fun. There is a lot to learn about being a young woman."

I breathed in and out. "I just want to be me. I'm a guy, but I have the body and face of a girl. How else am I supposed to live?"

She thought on that while she ladled her stew into a serving bowl. "Let me see if I understand. You have the thoughts and desires of a young man. That means one day you will grow up and start a family with a woman. Am I correct?"

I nodded.

"But you have realized that your outward appearance is that of a woman, discounting your genitilia. I nodded again. "So you want to look like a proper young lady."

"Yes."

Her lips pursed. "Sasha, you may look, but you must also act in a way as to not reveal your status. As you already know people can be very… hateful."

"I don't want to hide what I am anymore. If I have to act a certain way then I can do so, but I won't lie anymore about who I truly am."

"And who is that, Sasha?"

I jumped at the sound of my father's voice from behind me and spun around. "Papa."

Mom wasn't going to sugarcoat anything for my father. She's very straight forward in case you haven't noticed. "Sasha came to a realization today."

He spotted the ring hanging from the delicate necklace on my chest. "You're gay."

My eyes narrowed in confusion. "What? No. I like girls just fine." Then I figured it out. Max's ring looked like a male's ring. "This is my girlfriend's ring. She gave it to me. They do that here when older teens date."

He smiled in amusement. "I've heard of the tradition, Sasha. However I'd thought it was the man who gave the ring to the girl."

Mom passed by me carrying the serving bowl. "Our Sasha's Max is not like the average girl, Dusho moja."

Don't worry, that wasn't anything bad. Dusho moja means 'my soul' or like a more American term, sweetheart.

"Max?" He turned to me. "You did say she was a she, correct?"

I nodded. "It's a diminutive of Maxine."

Papa sat down followed by Mom and then me in the middle.

"So how is this girl different? Does she have a mustache and beard?" He said it playfully, realizing that I was already stressed enough.

"No, she's a taller than I am, but she plays baseball on the school team, so she takes very good care of herself."

"Baseball? On the varsity team?"

My mouth dropped open. "Uh… I don't know. I guess."

Mom took over as she served my father. "She has a strong presence and can take care of herself as well as our Sasha. It was she that carried him to the school nurse this morning."

"Carried? How strong of a presence are we talking about here. Should I be worried about this Max involving our son in steroid use?"

"Papa!"

"Don't tease your son, Dusho moja. She comes by it naturally from what I've seen, and she dotes on Sasha. Already buying him presents and bringing him out from the shell he's been cocooning himself in for the last four years. She treats him with kindness and respect."

Father took a bite of stew and thought on that for a moment. "You make it sound like this Max is courting Sasha as a man courts a woman."

Mom smiled before passing my bowl to me. "So I do. So she does."

Light through yonder window breaks as does what I was speaking of when he entered the conversation earlier. He looked at me, the necklace, the ring, my breasts. Then he sighed. "I suppose it was inevitable." Then to me. "You are sure that you are not gay."

"Yes, Papa. I'm sure. Max is very pretty, but she is also very strong, and she is attracted to me, not what I was posing as at school."

He looked over to Mom. "You approve of this?"

"I do. But you should be warned, Dusho moja, your son will be going through some changes starting tonight."

Papa's shoulders dropped slightly. "This is going to be expensive, isn't it."

Mom smiled shyly. "Nothing we can't afford. Sasha will be using the money he was saving for his car, but I would like to purchase some things that we should be providing for him in the first place."

My heart sunk at the mention of my private stash. My car!

"Don't get that look, Sasha. If you truly want this then you have to set priorities. Which is more important: a car or what you want? After all, do you not have a girlfriend that will drive you to wherever you may want to go?"

My resolve crumpled along with the hopes of my freedom any time in the near future. "Yes, ma'am."

"There, it's settled," declared Papa. "Use the card we set aside for emergencies. I receive my first paycheck in three days and I already have a sizable bonus attached. That should ease the burden."

Mom looked at me expectantly and I gave my father a weak smile. "Thank you, Papa."

After dinner, I helped Mom with the dishes so we could get started quicker. I had a lot to learn.

The transfer of my necessities to my organizer bag left room for a lot more. I didn't carry much in the way of everyday items. Even the clutch wallet was bare with virtually all the slots unused. Only my license and a few pictures were included. That and my twenty dollars of ready cash from my private stash that was soon to disappear.

I'd saved almost three thousand dollars for a down payment on a new car and after graduating this year I had plans on getting a full time job until I was ready for college. Now I'd probably have to start from virtual scratch after what Mom had planned for me. An entirely new wardrobe and the necessities for a modern American woman didn't come cheap. The previous day's small purchases were testimony to that notion.

I transferred my notebooks, pens, and pencils to my bag but left the hardback books in my backpack. If I arranged it properly, all I'd have to carry around was my bag and it was light enough not to bother me. The most books I'd have to actually carry in my hands would be two, for the classes where I couldn't get to my locker between classes.

Max was there right on time to pick me up for school the next morning, and I was dressed as promised.

"Good morning, beautiful." She kissed me lightly on the lips which distracted me from feeling nervous about my new appearance. "Hey, you did your eyebrows!"

I winced a little. "Do they look okay?" They were virtually straight across my brow, a little thinner, and definitely separated by a wide margin.

"They look great. You look great."

"So do you." I'd noticed Max's clothes were a little more masculine than the day before. Her jeans were now loose, but that was it. She still wore a feminine top -- I found out that was what you were supposed to call girls shirts if you wanted to generalize: tops. She also went a little lighter on the makeup and only wore studs in her ears.

"Ready to go?"

I nodded. Mom and Dad were already gone. Max grabbed my lightened backpack and I grabbed my bag before locking the door behind us. The strap on the bag was extremely long and was supposed to sit across my body to hang on my hip when worn properly.

"Thank you for the bag and clutch as well, and for the other outfits. You really went overboard, Max."

She smiled at me. "It really isn't a problem, Sasha. I get a pretty big monthly allowance, and if I don't spend it, it doesn't roll over. So, you're helping my out by letting me make sure I use it all."

I rolled my eyes at her comment as she held up the fob and beeped her car. "Hey, you got it fixed!" She opened my door for me anyway.

"It was just a fuse. But I actually had to hunt it down and replace it."

Instead of having to lean across and unlock her door this time, I settled my bag and did the seatbelt thing. I was all ready for her when she got in a started up the car.

"Papa wants to meet you before I'm allowed to go anywhere with you again."

Max's lips separated with a little surprise. "What do you mean meet me?"

I grinned and then faced forward. "You were the topic of conversation at dinner last night. Papa says that if you are taking the more masculine role in our relationship then that means putting up with everything that a regular boy has to. So you have to meet him and he has to approve you before we can date or go anywhere else."

Max was stunned, frozen in silence, her hand on the gear shift and her eyes on me, waiting for me to tell her it was all a joke.

"I'm quite serious, you know."

She swallowed and maybe looked a little green. "You're not joking?"

I shook my head. "Just try it out, Max. Remember, if you don't like it you don't have to do it again."

Her eyes widened at the situational turnaround. HA!

I straightened my scoop neck to so that an equal amount of breast was showing on both sides and then I blinked at her with expectation. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Uh… no, I guess." Her mind was working at a hundred miles an hour trying to figure out how to avoid the inevitable. "Well, I guess that's fair. What do I do?"

I shrugged. "I've never been out on a real date with anyone. You might want to ask your dad or maybe one of the boys at school."

The drive to school was humorous in so many ways. I figured I'd get my laughs in ahead of time since I was bound to be murdered in the hallways sometime that day for bending the laws of nature as I was.

"Maybe I could take your mom up on her offer."

"Dinner?"

She nodded.

"Tonight?"

She nodded again. Max lent me her cell. I called Mom to tell her about Max joining us and that she'd be able to meet Papa that night.

"She's looks like she's going to be sick, Mom. Is there anything Papa expects of her?"

She explained a little and then we disconnected. While I was putting away the cell in my bag I relayed Mom's message. "She says that it is tradition to bring a gift to a girl's parents in Serbia. It doesn't have to be anything expensive, just thoughtful. A small token for the girl is also expected, again nothing over the top. Papa is suppose to talk to you alone and find out your intentions and prospects for the future. Then at the end he threatens the suitor's manhood if he gets his daughter pregnant before they are properly married.

At Max's wide eyes, I laughed. "Okay, I made that last part up. But really, you can't get me pregnant. That would be bad."

She parked the car in an available space before turning to me. "I think I almost peed myself. Please don't do that again."

I snickered. "Just be yourself, Max. Papa will love you like Mom does."

She breathed in and out a few time. "I need to go shopping after I drop you off this afternoon."

"Nothing crazy, Max. I mean it. Papa's not impressed by money. Family is the most important thing to him."

She nodded. "That's helpful, thanks." At that she looked down at me. "You ready?"

"Nope. Not at all, but the new me is ready to get it over with."

"The new you?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I made a decision that I wanted to be me. Mom says that means that I have to learn how to be a girl. Basically you've created a monster, and I'll be turning into something you didn't expect." Pointing up to my face I continued. "That's why I did my eyebrows. I was practicing makeup last night."

Max, again, was surprised. "Really?"

"Uh-huh. But I still suck, so I didn't wear any today."

I could tell she didn't want to scare me off so she didn't jump all over the subject. "I look forward to seeing what you can do."

Leaning to the side, I gave her a kiss. "Don't let me die today."

"Not a chance."

Max went ahead and put on the most threatening look she could bring up and held it there. I had a hold of her upper arm and my bag was hanging off my left hip. The strap crossed right in the middle of my cleavage, creating even more definition that I'd expected. But there wasn't really anything I could do about that. Instead, I concentrated on walking and keeping an eye out on the reactions of my fellow classmates.

I don't think half the people recognized me at first, but then heated whispers started making the rounds as we approached the front doors. Max opened it for me and we slipped inside without being assaulted.

"Get the fuck out!" someone exclaimed in disbelief. "Are you sure that's a dude?"

Max stopped and halfway turned around to see who it was that had the mouth on him. Bradley Harrington: self-appointed senior class clown. I seriously didn't think anyone thought he was funny in any way, but he was friends with most of the jocks and picked on freshman for sport and his friends amusement.

"You got a problem?" Max said with a serious amount of venom in her voice.

Bradley held up his hands. "No problem, Xena." He was over ten feet away and had enough running room so he was hamming it up. "You and Gabrielle there have fun, alright?" He held up his fingers in a V-shape and wagged his tongue in-between.

It was then that I realized that I wasn't the one that was being made fun of. He was calling Max a lesbian. I squeezed her bicep. "Everyone already knows he's an ass. Just ignore him."

"Mister Harrington!" My eyes darted over to the office and our assistant principal hanging out at the open door where Bradley did see him. "How about you and I having a talk with your parents."

I snorted and pulled Max along with me. "That was priceless. Did you see his face?"

She was still on a slow boil when we cleared some inner doors and entered the hallway properly. I nudged her to the side and let my hands slide to her hips. "Hey." Her dangerous glare dropped to me and then faded slightly to a look of hurt. "Don't let him get to you. Personally, I think Xena's hot and she doesn't have anything on you."

She smiled and leaned down for a quick peck. "Sorry. I was so wound up thinking about them saying something about you that I completely forgot about me."

"That's what I'm here for."

We resumed our walk toward our lockers and almost made it there until three seniors recognized me and stopped dead in their tracks to ogle my breasts. They let us pass, but continued to stare while we stopped off at the locker.

"Just ignore them. I don't care if they look."

Max was back on a slow simmer until we were done and she dropped me off at the door to my English class. "Wait for me here before you leave. I'll be here as soon as possible."

I nodded. "Relax. I think it's going to be okay today. They just need to see the real me."

Making my way to the back corner was easy enough. The room was only half full, but I was eyed by every one of those people on my traditional route. I smiled, closed-lipped at them and un-slung my bag before sitting down. I remembered to cross my legs like Mom taught me. Trying to remember every little thing about the proper behavior of a girl was difficult, but I persevered.

I ignored the stares I was given and withdrew my folder with the assigned homework Max dropped off and then settled in.

The whispers before class were at an all time high. I heard my actual name and sometimes my nickname in passing. Every time I heard my nickname I'd make an excuse to shift in that general direction and show them off. I wasn't the little boy with embarrassing A-cup breasts anymore. These were full fledged girl-boobs and I was starting to become proud of them. The boy in the chair next to me finally sat down. While he wasn't normally talkative to me unless there was a class assignment that demanded it, he leaned over.

"There's something different about you. I can't quite put my finger on it."

I looked up at him and saw the small smirk on his face. "It's my eyebrows. I'm trying to keep them clean now."

"Improve your looks," he offered as a continuation of my claim.

"Exactly."

"Well I gotta say, you're looking better."

I grinned. "Thanks."

A few moments passed and he leaned in again. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I always thought you were a guy."

"I am."

His eyes dropped to my breasts and then back up to meet mine. "Okay." That seemed to totally throw him into confusion.

Was he trying to flirt with me before? Nah.

The bell rang and Mr. Banner entered the classroom and glanced around before calling roll. Being that my last name starts with a P, everyone is usually nice and bored by the time my name is called. This time I think every single person in the class was waiting for conformation that I was indeed Sasha Petrovitch, or maybe they just wanted to see Mr. Banner's reaction.

"Sasha."

"Here."

Just like always, Mr. Banner looked up to confirm that the right person was answering. He looked up and then down.

"Ste…"

Then he looked back up again. I smiled and waved a little. He looked back down at the roll, probably to verify the proper honorific attached to the front of my name.

"'Mister' Petrovitch?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir?"

He raised an eyebrow at me and then pointed to the door. "Hallway, Mister Petrovitch."

I shoved my folder in my bag and threw it over my shoulders. There was no way I was leaving my stuff behind for who know what someone would do to it.

By the time I'd made it out there, Mr. Banner had given my outfit the once over. He closed the door and I heard the volume go up about thirty decibels while everyone inside discussed my new look without my knowledge.

"Something I need to know, Sasha?"

I shook my head. "Not that I know of, sir."

He crossed his arms. "It's normally school policy for the front office to notify the teachers when a student starts his or her life test."

I didn't have a clue what he was talking about. "Sorry?"

He frowned at my not understanding him. "Are you telling me that you aren't changing your sexual orientation?"

I looked to the side and back at him. "Not that I'm aware of."

He shook his head and then rubbed a hand over his face. "I might have missed it yesterday. Weren't you presenting as a boy, and now you are presenting as a girl."

I shrugged. "I guess. Is that against the rules?"

"Not in and of itself, but there are procedures."

"I'm not having any procedures. I'm just wearing girls clothes."

"That's not what I meant… hold on. You didn't have those yesterday." He pointed at my breasts.

"Yes I did."

"No, you didn't. I remember seeing you, Sasha. You did not have breasts."

I sighed. "Talk to the nurse's office. Remember, I passed out just outside this door, yesterday?"

He nodded.

"That was because I was wearing a compression vest." At his confusion, I explained. "It was so I could hide these. I ran out of breath and passed out. So I'm not wearing it anymore. If the people in this school can't handle the fact that because of the freaky way my genetic structure is set up I wind up with breasts, then it's not my problem. They are entirely natural and I'm just showing who I am. There's no law that says I can't and several that say that I can."

"The nurse can verify this?"

I nodded.

"I'll be emailing her immediately."

"Go right ahead sir. Tell her I said hi."

"I won't let this interrupt my class."

I frowned. "Then, sir, I would suggest you get a handle on all the idiots that like to pick on me. I believe that's part of your job."

He pondered that for a moment. During that time I withdrew my homework and handed it to him. He glanced at it and then opened the door. "Alright settle down."

Mr. Banner finished roll call and then I assumed he clackity-clacked a message to the nurse on his computer before beginning the lesson. For the thirty minutes that followed I caught opportunistic glances in my direction before Mr. Banner's computer beeped at him. A little smile settled on his face before he retreated to inner-school email. He seemed vaguely satisfied afterward.

"Sasha, gather your books, please."

Everyone looked at me with curiosity. That wasn't out of the ordinary. When anyone is singled out in the middle of class they naturally receive the attention of everyone else. It took me all of fifteen seconds to secure the notebook that I was scribbling in and make my way up to the teacher's desk.

"The assistant principal wants to have a word with you. Here's your pass."

Glancing at the clock above the door, I had about twenty minutes until class ended and I needed to be back. I thought of having Mr. Banner inform Max about where I was. There was no need for him to think I went missing. But I wasn't exactly sure about Mr. Banner's stance on the whole issue of me looking like a girl now. Some of his reactions seemed to border on hostile, but he also seemed to be knowledgeable about those things he was talking about earlier, transitioning or whatever. He knew technical terms I was unaware of. So I didn't know what to believe.

I leaned over and grabbed the pass. The one thing I was sure of was that he was definitely a man and he liked breasts. Mine kept drawing his eyes. However, they were on display for everyone to see. That was my fault, so I couldn't blame anyone for taking advantage of the free show. If I was being objective, it was a spectacular show.

Something I wasn't aware of before was the click-tapping of my shoes on hard tile in an empty hallway. Guys shoes just don't sound like that. While I'd like nothing better to claim indifference to the little dissimilarities between the sexes, I was anything but. Virtually everything was different and I couldn't help but notice that one little change compounded on another until, in the end, it was overwhelming.

Take, for instance, clothes. When I wore guys clothes, I had a feeling of being closed in on myself, protected for lack of a better word. Guys shoes are flat, promoting stability on the ground, where girls are high encouraging the feeling of insecurity, that you might fall so you must be on the lookout for traitorous terrain.

Guys jeans are made out of a thicker material, more durable, an armor of sorts. Girls jeans are thin, cooler, softer, but tighter, conforming around their every curve. Their purpose is to put on display the assets of a female and cover the minor flaws.

Guys shirts are practical and functional. They warm and cool when needed. Aesthetics are secondary. While girls shirts are of no practical use whatsoever except for aesthetics. They are made specifically to show off the best portions of their upper body. If a girl has a tight and trim tummy but flabby flesh under their arms then they make a shirt for her. If she wants to expose her breasts… well I'm wearing proof of the existence of that particular article of clothing.

But above all, they provide one thing above all others: they are made to make women cold. Outside in the heat of the sun, I am perfectly fine. But get me inside the school where they have the air conditioner cranked up to ungodly levels to make sure kids stay awake and I'm shivering. Personally I think it's all a plot by guys to make sure that a girl's nipples stay at a constant state of erection.

That was another thing. The demi bra that I was wearing served as a way to press my breasts together and up, using the minimal amount of fabric as necessary. The top was also alarmingly thin. And during my growth spurt during freshman and sophomore years my nipples increased in size almost as much as my breasts. So, wearing those two items of clothing made sure I was on display and erect enough for everyone and their brother to tell their exact position and size.

Solely as a guy, I'd have my books or backpack to cover unwanted and untimely erections tenting my jeans. As a girl I was faced with covering up those same embarrassing erections, but on my chest instead. As both a guy and a girl I was in a quandary as to which was more important to cover. Perhaps that tucking thing Mom was talking about the previous night wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Five minutes later I was waiting for the assistant principal to call me into his office for some unknown reason while I positioned my bag for maximum coverage between my legs.

"Sasha, he'll see you now."

I looked up at the student aide and nodded before standing and working my way around the side of the desk to the office behind him. I received a look of disbelief disguised as something else when I entered and sat down in front of Mr. Parsons desk.

"Well, I can see what all the hubbub is about now."

"Pardon?"

"When did this happen, Sasha?"

I really didn't know which thing he was talking about. "I'm sorry?"

He looked at me like I was purposely trying to be obtuse. I was sure he was used to this attitude, dealing with dumb-asses all day being his job description. "The clothes, the…" he gestured at my chest.

"Breasts."

He nodded. "Right, those."

I shrugged. "The breasts came in my freshman year sir. If you care to take a look at my school file you'll see I have an exemption from physical education because of an incident on my first day. That was because I was already showing at the time. The school and the nurses office already know about my condition."

At his expectant look, I continued. "As to the clothes: I already told Mr. Banner about yesterday. I passed out because of the compression vest I was wearing to minimize the size of my breasts so that I could look as close to a boy as I was able. However, my girlfriend made me realize that I was putting my health at further risk by doing so. So, instead of looking like a boy with breasts I decided that I would look like a girl to minimize the likelihood of the beatings and taunts I would receive around here."

I practiced that speech last night, knowing that the probability of its use was high.

Mr. Parsons nodded in understanding. "So, you're going through transition into a female?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm still a guy and I plan on staying that way."

He was having difficulty with that idea. I understood. I mean what self-respecting guy would put himself through this torture if he didn't have to. "I'm sorry, you've lost me."

"That's okay." Alright, I was kind of playing around with him in with that statement.

He made a face that insisted on seriousness.

"Mr. Parsons, I have a choice to make and my options are limited. Do I look like a preteen boy all of my life and suffer the problems that would incur, the teasing, the assaults, the lack of respect from anyone and everyone, or do I embrace this body that I was given and make the most of it?"

He leaned back in his chair, subconsciously going on the defensive. "It's not that simple, Sasha. The school has responsibilities to the students…"

"Sir, you have a responsibility to me to make sure I am provided an atmosphere that is suitable to learning. Having the crap kicked out of me in gym class my first day here and being taunted every day since with the nickname 'Tits' is not conducive to learning. Every single day I've attended here, I've been pushed down on the floor, shoved into lockers, tripped, bad-mouthed, suffered name-calling, bullied, you name it. Only the bare minimum has been done."

He sighed and I could see he genuinely regretted the way the students treated me. "There's only so much we can do. We can't be everywhere at once."

I nodded. "I understand that. But the only time I've been protected is when I am directly in front of certain teachers. Others look away. I've actually seen them doing it so they didn't have to deal with the problem. Well now I've got a protector."

"What do you mean?"

I angled my right arm at him. "See this bruise?" That was from yesterday morning. I got slammed into, on purpose. Then, since there was no teacher around, he got slammed into the doorframe until he apologized."

His eyes dropped to the ring hanging in-between my breasts. "You have a boyfriend."

I shook my head. "No, I have a girlfriend."

"And she's protecting you? She assaulted this boy?"

Shrugging I dismissed the question. "I'm not admitting to you that she was the one that took a hold of his back pack and directed his forehead to meet a chunk of aluminum until he learned some manners. That would be stupid."

"You need to tell her…" he rolled his eyes a little. "Or whomever that they can get in serious trouble if caught doing so."

I picked up my bag from the floor beside the chair and stood.
"We're not done here, Sasha."

"Yeah, we are. Go ahead and bust her. Just make sure your district's lawyer's fees are paid up. If you so much as look at my girlfriend wrong or treat her any different than you treat any person that has abused me in the past then I'll have the ACLU up your butt so far that you'll be the lead marshal in the gay pride parade for the next ten years due to the experience."

He sat up and leaned into the desk. "Did you just threaten me?"

I stopped adjusting the strap to my bag so that it fit snuggly between my breasts. "Yes. Now if you'll excuse me, Mr. Parsons. I need to get back to class."

Halfway back to English, the bell rang and two seconds later the hallways were being filled with students rushing to where they needed to be. I froze and then moved to the side so as to avoid the onslaught, quickly reverting to the scared mouse-like state I normally assumed as a boy.

Another minute passed while I was only able to move an additional fifteen or twenty feet. It was nowhere near enough to get me to my precious class and Max's protection. I pushed my panic down and tried not to be intimidated by the looks I was receiving, but it was a thin line between terror and temerity.

"So you were a chick all along, Petervitch."

"Petrovitch," I replied without thinking and without seeing who was talking. I turned to see who was insulting my name.

"Maybe it should have been Peter-bitch."

I'm very sure my face went white as a sheet. It was him. Aaron Carson. He was the guy that started this whole thing on my first day. The very same guy that beat the crap out of me in gym class.

He grabbed my right arm, directly over the bruise and I winced, but couldn't say anything. I was too scared of what he was going to do to me this time.

He leered down at my chest. "Are those real Peter-bitch?" His right hand rose, extending his index finger to poke at one of them. But something stopped him, or rather someone.

His finger was forced in the opposite direction and was twisted behind back before he released my arm and dropped to one knee in pain. I looked up and saw Max, boiling mad and red-faced, with her foot firmly planted behind Aaron's knees, keeping him down. Another clang of forehead against metal sounded in the hallway above the loud noise of the hustle of students.

Aaron screamed out in pain at the pressure Max was putting on his finger. That's when things got stupid.

A dense half-circle formed around the action, so that every student in the area could get a good look.

"I said if anyone so much as touches my boyfriend then they'd have to deal with me. Are you stupid or something?"

Aaron didn't say anything and I inched away.

A yell sounded from him again. "I asked you a question dumb-ass."

"I didn't hurt her!" he finely responded.

"You were about to sexually assault him. I'm a witness."

Max looked up at me with concern. "You okay, baby? Did he hurt you?"

I touched the bruise on my arm. "He grabbed my arm."

"Make a hole." A teacher was on the way.

Max leaned in. "I'm gonna kick your ass until you bleed."

With that she released him and closed in on me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. Aaron shook out his hand and scrambled up right when a teacher I didn't specifically know busted through the crowd.

"Alright, what's going on?"

Max stared Aaron down. I could see the bully flexing his semi-injured hand. "Nothin', I tripped and hit the lockers."

The teacher looked up at Max and me with a total lack of belief in what Aaron said. With no response from us he turned around and frowned at the rest of the teens. "Thirty people standing around and nobody saw anything? Right. Move on. Get to class."

The teacher gave us the evil eye, but didn't say anything else. With no witnesses and nobody filing a complaint there wasn't much that he could do. By the time Max had led me around the corner my hands were shaking.

"Are you okay, Sasha?"

I nodded.

"I thought you were supposed to wait for me." It wasn't exactly an accusation, but my nerves were shot for the day.

"Mr. Parsons called me to the office and Mr. Banner keeps looking at me weird. I was trying to make it back to class, but the bell rang and then everyone was in the halls, and I was stuck. Then Aaron... and he hurt my arm more…"

Max pulled me to the side and wrapped her arms around me. "Shhh, it's okay. I'm not mad. I was just worried."

My eyes were burning and I wiped at my face coming away with wet palms for the trouble. I didn't even notice that I'd been crying.

My next class was almost as bad, but midway through that specific teacher's interrogation of me an email popped up. After reading it, she looked at me for a moment and then sent me back to my seat.

Nobody bothered me, or even gave Max so much as a glare until we made it to lunch. She bought me a turkey sub and a soda at the snack bar that we took outside to the place where we met.

"Are they starting to ease off?"

I nodded. "I guess Mr. Parsons let all of my teachers know what was going on."

"Yeah. I got the impression that Aaron guy was the token sacrifice to see if I'd actually go through with my threat. Everyone's been treating me like I could go nuclear at any moment."

I didn't get the reference. "Token?"

"It's where the people in charge throw someone that's expendable into the mix to see what happens. If they lose him then its no big deal, and if he winds up solving the problem, then they'll know how to treat the situation in the future."

I swallowed a chunk of turkey and Swiss almost whole. "You mean that whole thing was a set-up? They did it on purpose?"

She shrugged. "Probably. But the good part is now they know I'll tear apart anyone they send so they should back off and leave us be."

"Max, what if they send someone bigger?"

She didn't look too threatened. "They probably won't do that. The only people that would be a threat to me are the linemen of the football team and they aren't going to screw their chances up and get kicked off the team."

My worried look didn't seem to sit well with her. "Relax, baby. Let me deal with the bumpkins. Don't worry your pretty head about it. You'll get frown lines."

My eyes narrowed. "Are you a guy in disguise or something? Don't worry my pretty head?"

She smirked and then looked down in embarrassment. "Sorry. I'm trying to act more masculine."

I let a smile tell her that it didn't bother me too much. "You do realize that I like girls, right? If you want to change your look, I'm cool with that, but don't change who you are."

"I'm not really the soft, touchy-feely, romantic-comedy kind of girl, Sasha."

"I'm not expecting you to wear the dress in our relationship," I said. "But don't go and become one of the Neanderthals that are terrorizing the school either."

"I promise."

"Good," I smiled, satisfied.

Max dropped me off at my house with a kiss and a promise not to go overboard with the gifts for the night. She waited until I was inside before driving off. With my homework for the day already completed during class, I made tracks to my room and booted up the laptop. I'd found several sites targeted toward girls, makeup, deportment, etiquette, nail care, and a whole host of other topics dedicated to young females and got to work.

While there was a lot to learn, there was a lot of common sense behind why girls do the things that they do. I was like an empty book being filled with the proper way to do things, and it was, dare I say, fun.

When Mom insisted that I was to act like a girl if I was going to dress like one, I admit that I was scared and maybe a little intimidated at first. I thought it would be like learning how to be a different person from the start, but the truth was that I was just now learning to be a person. Being on the outside all the time never really served to teach me anything about being a boy. No practical experience meant that all I really knew came from books, or multimedia of some type. Even that was flawed.

Now, here I was reading about actual girl's trial and error experiences with eyelash curlers, and what nail care product was full of crap when they advertise that your nails will be ten times stronger with just five applications of their expensive product.

I also learned that Nair sucks and is way stinky. That waxing was the way to go only if you couldn't afford the time and expense of permanent hair removal. I'd have to look into that, because I had to shave under my arms the night before in order to make the scoop neck top look right. Now I had some serious razor burn. On top of the problems with my body, I now realized that I had sensitive skin as well. So, I'd probably wait until the next time I was out to go and get my legs waxed properly. Until then it was jeans for me.

Mom had let me borrow all of her extra makeup until I could get some of my own to practice with.

The first thing I learned about makeup instructions online was that I had to ignore everything anyone said. The only people that knew what they were talking about were the professionals. They did this for a living and knew how to apply makeup properly. I wouldn't exactly trust them with the brand names they use. I'm sure they received free stuff all the time and got kickbacks for mentioning that they exclusively use a certain brand. It was all BS anyway. I saw a picture online of a famous makeup artist that claimed they used Maybelline, but the picture of them working on a client had them applying a Lá³real lip gloss.

With my sensitive skin I was also learning that makeup was harsh on the complexion, so I had to do some serious research to find what would work best on me. So far I was lucky and hadn't broken out in pimples all over the place. But I wasn't wearing it all day either.

"Sasha, I'm home."

I looked at the little clock on the corner of my screen. Holy cow! I just lost two and a half hours researching makeup!

"I'm in my room, Mom!"

After hitting Hibernate I got up and slipped on my loafers, but didn't get to make it to the door before Mom had entered the room. She smiled at me. "How did your first day back go?"

I shrugged. "Okay. It got better after second period."

"No trouble?"

I rolled my eyes. Mom always knew everything that went on. "I got sent to the office, but we cleared everything up, so it's no big deal."

She looked at me critically for a moment and then nodded. "Are you ready for tonight?"

"I guess."

"What are you going to wear?"

I opened my mouth and then closed it to look down at my outfit. "Uh…"

"Sweetheart, I informed you about dressing properly for different occasions."

A pained look crossed my face. "Mom," I whined. "Max only got me the three outfits. I don't have anything else."

"What about your green dress?"

My eyes bugged. "We didn't get any dresses. I'm taking it easy at first. Just jeans and these tops, but in different colors."

Mom sighed dramatically. "I suppose I'll have to take back all the clothes I bought you at lunch today."

A part of me almost squealed and a part of me cringed at what my mother would buy me. Visions of clothes like hers entered my head. Mom isn't the most fashion conscious person on the planet. Sure she dressed like all the other forty-somethings, but I was eighteen, not forty.

"Don't look like that young lady." She shook her head and grinned. "Young man. Your mother knows how to ask the salesgirls their opinions at Forever 21 and Express."

Oh! Oh! Oh! It was almost a universal constant among teen girls online about their opinion of the Trinity of clothes shopping for the trendy and discriminating girl: Express, Abercrombie & Fitch, and Forever 21.

"What'd you get! What'd you get!"

Mom laughed. "My my, you have embraced the proper attitude haven't you."

"Moooom." I almost bounced.

"Come along. I'll need your help to bring it in."

I inhaled. Help? There's so much that she needs help?

My heart was beating at a rapid pace when I saw eight bags in the trunk. "Oh my gosh!"

I grabbed her and squeezed as tight as I dared. "Thank you, Mom!"

She patted me on the back. "You're welcome sweetheart. Some of it might not fit, so I have gift receipts if you need to exchange them or don't like the style.

That probably wasn't possible, but I grinned anyway. "Thank you!"

I was able to grab five of the bags and Mom took the remaining three. There was one other bag in the back with Aldo on the side. I knew I recognized the name, but I couldn't place where it was in the mall. Mom grabbed that bag as well.

"Go on, nosy. You'll see soon enough."

I would have ran into the house, quickly to my room to upend all of the goodies that Mom bought, but I was still wearing those loafers with no ankle support and inch and a half heels. I'd most likely break an ankle. It was with great restraint that I walked a little more faster then normal. When I had hit my room I set the bags on the floor and grabbed the first one, about to toss all of its contents on my bed for quick inspection when Mom appeared at the door.

"Don't -- you -- dare." I froze in place. "Those are not simple boys clothes. Some are delicate and don't need to be mixed with whatever's been growing on your sheets since you last washed them."

"Mooom! I washed them last weekend."

"Nevertheless. You will compose yourself." She sighed and looked at me with pity. "I know you are excited, Sasha, but you must unlearn all of the bad habits that you grew up with. You are a young lady now and you will act as such."

Properly chastened I put the bag on the bed and hung my head. "I'm sorry."

Another sigh from my mother. "Go to the spare room closet and bring me all of the hangers, Sasha."

"Yes, ma'am." I slipped out of my room with my face glowing red with embarrassment. Mom hadn't had to jump on me like that in ages. I guess she was really taking this whole girl thing really seriously, while I was just having fun.

My arms were loaded with hangers, padded, plastic, fancy and not. Not to mention those strange hangers with the plastic clothes pins attached to the lower part. When I got back, my bed was made and the comforter, which I never used, was on top.

She pointed. "Set them on the bed and I'll show you a few things. Then I want you to prepare for this evening."

It was only five o'clock. I'd barely need a few minutes to get ready. Mom looked at me again. "Sasha, trust me. I've been doing this for many years. You will need the time."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Child, come here." I slowly inched to her and she pulled me into a hug. "I love you so very much, Sasha."

"I love you too, Mom."

"Now tell me. Do you want to see a look of adoration on your Max's face tonight?"

I nodded.

"Then do as I say and you will have that."

"Okay."

"Good. Now let us see what it will take to make you more beautiful than you already are, yes?"

The trip to the salon will have to be postponed. I had to take a bath and shave my legs. I haven't taken a bath in years. Mom bought these things to put in the water that was supposed to make me smell good and I have to admit, it was pretty nice. I had new shampoo and conditioner from a place I'd never heard of. She also stole my deodorant and wash rags, substituting them with a girls style deodorant and this big poofy pink thing that I was supposed to squeeze body wash into and scrub myself with.

I hadn't made it this far in my research to know the proper names for anything yet. I was more concerned with what came after: the clothes, makeup, perfumes, earrings, bangles, you know… stuff!

She left me with only a pair of light green bikini panties and a really short robe to dress in after I was through. By the time I'd made it out, it was already five-forty-five. Max would be knocking on my door in only fifteen minutes and I hadn't even tried the makeup I wanted to wear!

"Mom, we've only got fifteen minutes!"

"Slow down, Sasha." She held her hands out. "Dinner has been delivered and your father will answer the door and have his conversation with your Max. We have plenty of time. Besides, it is always best for proper ladies to keep their men waiting." At my questioning look, she smiled. "It makes them more nervous and they will make fools of themselves when they see us."

I laughed. "That's horrible."

"But fun. Now come, see what you are going to wear."

It was hanging on the back of the closet door. Green to match my panties.

"It is called a pleated surplice dress. See the little folds on the lower half?" I nodded. "Those are pleats. Notice the upper portion the tight shape of the V plunging deep through your cleavage."

"Mom, I don't have a bra for that."

She smiled naughtily. "Sasha, there are some outfits that you will not wear a bra with."

My eyes bugged again. "They're going to be…"

"Free yes, however we have these to protect your modesty."

In her hand was something that kind of looked like a really big band-aid. I tilted my head and tried to figure out how they worked.

"Open your robe."

I blinked. "Uh…"

This time there was no smile, only a small sigh. "Child, do you not think that I possess breasts very similar to your own. I've seen them many times. Now open the robe."

I swallowed and undid the sash, opening the robe as instructed. Mom sighed again, wistfully. "My son has better breasts than I do. Something is seriously wrong with this world when that happens. Now watch, so you'll know how to remove them."

She turned the band-aids over and there were adhesive strips on either side and underneath. "You wear these so that you have a minimal amount of support and to mask your nipples."

My face reddened again as she applied the things on the lower half of my right breast. Then did it again for the left. "Excellent. Now… Sasha. Did I not tell you about tucking things out of the way?"

My face burned hot and I performed the required tuck while she retrieved the dress. "Take off the robe." She eyed me and nodded. "Better. We'll have to find something that will work to hide you better. When you wear tighter dresses or skirts even that little amount will show through and create unsightly lines where there should be none."

She set aside the hanger and held up the dress for me to step into. At first I thought it was too big in the waist, but after I slipped my arms through the sleeveless portions and let it settle in the middle of my shoulders I saw the tiny belt Mom had in her hand. "This goes at the thinnest portion of your waist. See the little belt loops?"

They weren't loops so much as bits of thread on the sides to indicate where the belt was supposed to hang.

The doorbell sounded in the distance and I jumped. "She's here!"

"Calm yourself. We have to do your makeup and fix your hair. You are not finished."

"But…"

"Get your shoes and come with me. No not the loafers, the new ones in the Aldo box, the black one."

There were two boxes: one brown and one black. Twenty minutes later and I had perfect skin on my face, or at least it looked perfect. My eyes were dark, with hints of green on my lids and my lips were glossy and weird feeling. The slight dark patches under my eyes were gone and my eyebrows were plucked just a little more to make them thinner on the ends.

Mom dabbed some perfume that I thought was a little too flowery on my wrists and under my ear lobes. She sighed at my nails and toes. "We will need to have those professionally done the first time. I don't have the patience to perform a manicure and a pedicure. Now, put your shoes on."

I flipped the top off of the box and my breath caught at the heels inside. They were even higher than my loafers.

"It's only another inch, Sasha. If you haven't fallen with your loafers then you will not fall with these. They're supposedly very in style. Cage design or something."

They looked like sandals and not proper shoes, except they had about twenty straps going every which way. They matched my dress, not to mention my panties. "How do I... oh a zipper." It was in the back at the heel. Odd place for a zipper. I slid my foot in and noticed I had a little extra room. "I think they're too big."

"They're a six. When you wear higher heels you need to go a half size larger or else you'll be regretting it after a few hours."

I took her word for it and put on the other shoe.

Mom helped me up and held me at arms length. "How do they feel?"

I took a tentative step and didn't fall over. "Odd. I'm not used to having so much air on my feet."

She smiled. "You'll get used to it." I was left where I was and she walked over to the door. "Come to me. Remember to keep your back straight. Don't slouch. Glide, don't bounce. Toes pointed forward."

"I remember." She drilled it into my head the previous night until I performed as expected.

When I arrived and hadn't broken an ankle, she smiled widely. "You are a vision, Sasha. Go look at yourself. I will go prepare our escorts. Come out in two minutes, no sooner."

"Yes ma'am." Before she made it out of the room, I stopped her. "Mom?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Thank you."

I received a tooth filled smile in return. "Two minutes."

She was gone and I was alone looking into a mirror. "Wow." I didn't look like myself. My eyes were gigantic and my lips larger than normal. Mom had pulled my hair up in back, sweeping the sides up and leaving little inch wide portions hanging down to cover my earlobes since I didn't have any piercings as of yet.

I shook myself from staring and realized that I'd lost track of time. Had it been two minutes? Crap!

Slower than I normally walk, I made my way to the hallway and listened. "Sasha will be here in a moment. I have to get my camera."

Okay, probably only a minute. Hold on… a camera? I breathed a cleansing breath. That's okay. I wanted pictures of Max and the two of us together. I seriously need something to fill my clutch.

Closing my eyes, I tried to find a very peaceful place in my head. It wouldn't be good to go in all tense and nervous. It was my home after all. Good. Now go.

I took a step and almost fell over when my heel hit the hardwood floor. Luckily my hands were already near the wall and I didn't need to be rushed to the emergency room just yet. Maybe later.

"Smaller steps, Sasha. Now go before you're late."

The shoes were a lot louder on the wood, making it sound like I had metal taps on the thin heels. Max was to the side where he couldn't see me coming down the hall, and there was Mom with a silly grin on her face.

Two breaths were taken. Each sounding louder in the silence of the room. Max stood there in a pair of black slacks and a blue silk shirt, both cut in feminine style. Her hair was pulled back and held in a low ponytail to give her a more masculine appearance. I could see tell-tale signs of makeup on her face but it was very light. She was so incredibly hot that I felt my stomach clench and my smile widen to epic proportions.

She blinked and started to say something, but stopped, started again, but stopped then she swallowed. "Sasha."

"Hello Max. Thank you for coming tonight." Moving forward, I met her somewhere in the middle. Where she held my hands and looked down at me, but due to my heels, not near as much anymore.

"I can't tell you how beautiful you are right now. There aren't words…"

Father cleared his throat and I looked over. "Hi, Papa."

He was white as a sheet, but getting his color back.

"Children?"

I looked the other way and as soon as I did, a flash went off.

"There, I've taken the surprise shot, now I need a couple of posed. Both of you together. Max, put your arm around her waist and you back there, get out of the way."

I almost snorted when I knew she was snapping at Papa.

It didn't stop there. Papa and I were next and Mom and Max. Finally I gave Mom a look and she set the camera aside, we ate dinner, and retired to the living room where Max gave me my gift. I kind of like this tradition. HA!

I unwrapped it and found a very nice box. I raised an eyebrow at Max.

"I promise I didn't go overboard. I was thinking about how much your life is changing now and that you might need some way to remember it someday."

I lifted the top and inside was a something wrapped in embossed leather and secured with a leather thong. After lifting it out I undid the thong and opened it up to find a good sized book. Upon closer inspection I realized it was a new journal.

"Max," I whispered. "It's perfect. Thank you."

I leaned over and pecked her on the cheek since Mom and Papa were sitting right there.

"Mr. Petrovitch, would it be okay if I took, Sasha out for a short walk? I promise to have him back in about thirty minutes."

Papa nodded once. Mom waved me to her and told Max that I'd be back in a moment. We went to my room and Mom passed me a small purse that hung by a thin strap. "Your clutch is inside, along with your lip gloss and a small compact with a mirror. Check yourself before you come back in. I don't want your father seeing you mussed after you've been kissing your Max."

"Mooom!" I whined, but then smiled. "Thanks."

I shouldered the dainty thing and returned to the living room with a grin. "I'm ready."

"Thirty minutes," Papa declared sternly. He turned to my mother. "Your parents would have insisted on a chaperone."

I rolled my eyes where only Max could see. He kept a straight face until we were outside.

"Oh my God that was the most embarrassing thing I've even experienced," she declared.

I grinned and took hold of her bicep so I wouldn't fall down the steps. "I hope Papa wasn't too awful."

She looked at me like I was kidding. "He wanted to know everything. And I mean everything. How I was going to support you, how many children I wanted you to have, prospects for education and a job."

With each revelation I became more and more horrified. "No," I gasped.

She nodded. "Yep. Asked me if I'd ever had any tickets, ever been arrested. I think I nearly kissed your Mom when she came in and ended it."

I laughed. Papa was do old world.

"Then she just about read him the riot act for being so nosy."

I shrugged. "That's where I get it from." We turned right at the sidewalk. "There's a park about a block down."

"Perfect." We continued on for a minute without saying anything and I was perfectly content in the silence. "I can't get over how gorgeous you are tonight. You make an excellent girl."

"Lady."

"Pardon?"

I smiled up at him. "I can't be a girl because I'm a boy, but I can be a lady because that is all about poise, attitude, and something else I forget. Mom gave me that lecture last night."

"Well then you're a flawless lady."

"Thank you. And you make a very dashing Gentleman."

Another minute passed.

"I hope you don't get the wrong idea about the questions Papa asked you. I mean we just started dating."

She nodded. "That's what I told your dad. But he said that dating is for children and we were both of age, where more is expected."

I nodded. That sounded exactly like my father. "Well, don't you be scared, because I don't think that way. Perhaps if we were both out of school… and college I mean, then I'd have those thoughts, but we're still too young."

"That doesn't mean I don't think about it. Like he said, we're not children any longer."

I agreed. "Thinking is okay. Right now we need more… courting, I guess."

The park was nearly empty by the time we got there. Once we found a bench, Max withdrew a handkerchief and wiped down the seat to make sure I didn't ruin my dress. When I smoothed it out and sat down I crossed my legs and then set one hand over the other at my knee. Max was impressed and I could see it on her face.

"I… I'm repeating myself. You're wearing a dress. I thought you weren't going to go that far, and heels even."

I looked down at my very strappy sandals. "Mom got everything for me, and I wanted to look my best for you."

"Thanks. I'm… overwhelmed. I didn't think any boy would ever… I mean…"

"I understand. It's okay." I looked at a mother across the way that was calling her son. "I thought I'd fight this more, but it seems like every minute I'm immersed in this new world, the more I enjoy it. The more I look forward to trying something else."

"I'm happy that I could share it with you." She reached in her right pocket this time and then looked up at me. "I got you something else."

"Max," I sighed. "You don't have to keep buying me things. Two days we've been together. You'll be broke by Christmas and then what are you going to do?"

She smiled. "I won't be broke, trust me. This is something to go along with your diary, or journal, whatever you want to call it."

I laughed playfully. "It's a journal. Diaries have heart-shaped lockets and are pink. But I still love it. It was very thoughtful and timely. Always a good combination."

She withdrew a zippered pouch about six inches long or so. It was the same color as the embossed leather that protected the journal. My curiosity got the better of me and my brows furrowed at Max's newest gift. "What is it?"

"First you've got to promise you won't get mad."

My curiosity turned to worry. "Max, what did you do?"

"Promise."

I sighed in resigned protest. "Fine. I promise. Why would I get mad anyway?"

She cringed. "Well, I kind of went overboard, just a little, on this gift."

My shoulders slumped. "Oh, Max. You goof." I head-shrugged at the pouch. "Let me see."

She unzipped it and opened the pouch. It was only a one fold close. Inside, on one side, was a cushion, on the other side were four sleeves, one of which ran the length of the pouch.

"Is that a pen?"

She nodded. "Go ahead and take it out."

It was a really nice pen. Black with a gold colored clip and gold colored band on the bottom of the cap. On the top was a little rounded off Star of David -- a six pointed star, but not really. I was confused. How could a pen be overdoing it?

"Open it up."

I looked at it for a second before trying to pull it apart.

"It unscrews."

Ah. Silly me. My normal experiences with pens consists of pushing the little click thing to make the ballpoint pop out. This one I unscrewed and looked at the odd tip.

"It's a fountain pen. You can learn calligraphy. It's a really beautiful way to write."

I leaned back in understanding. "This is going overboard? I think you're safe sweetie." Reaching up I pecked him on the lips this time. "Thank you for the pen."

She pointed out the three refill cartridges and that they came in black, blue and burgundy, so I was supposed to tell her which one I liked best and she could get me a bunch of refills of my favorite color. My girlfriend was very thoughtful. I didn't know about the pen though.

Now that the gift-giving portion of the evening was over, I was hoping there would be kissing involved. Max replaced the pen in its handy dandy carrying case -- it's a pen, why the heck did you need a case for it? -- and then smiled wickedly at me. I smiled back and pursed my lips slightly.

"Do you like my lip gloss? Mom bought it for me."

"I think it makes your lips very shiny."

"Really? Does that give you any ideas?" I asked teasingly.

She shrugged. "It kind of makes me think of the way the paint shines on a candy apple '57 Chevy."

My tongue poked into my right cheek in disbelief. "Max!"

"I'm kidding. I'd really like to kiss you, but I don't want your father to shoot me if you come back and it's all mes…"

"I brought it with me and a mirror too."

She was on me quicker than Bernie Madoff could say, "Trust me, I wouldn't screw you over."

Yay!!! Now this was kissing.

With one minute to spare, we entered the living room. "We're back," I called out. Mom and Papa came out from the kitchen, and said their goodbyes to Max and thanked her for the European wine of the month club membership for a year and the basket of Serbian strawberries. I had no idea where he found that. But since Serbia supplies twenty percent of the world's strawberries I guess it wasn't too hard.

I bounced in place before she left and showed Papa the pen she got me for my journal. "Papa, isn't it pretty?"

Papa blinked at the case and then took the pen out to examine.

"I really need to get going, Sasha." Max sounded a little nervous.

"Okay." We'd said our goodbyes already, but I wanted to walk her to the door.

"Sasha."

"Yes, Papa."

He glanced at Max without expression and then back to me. "Do you know what this is?"

I looked at Mom. "Uh, a fountain pen?"

He raised an eyebrow and looked at Max again. "It's a Mont Blanc specifically a Meisterstá¼ck Le Grande."

I looked at it. "It has a name?"

"It's a model, Sasha. This gift is not appropriate for a young lady." To my horror, Papa stuck it back in its case and zipped it up then handed it to Max.

"Hey!" I complained.

"That is a personal gift to Sasha, Mr. Petrovitch. This is a turning point in her life and I thought it appropriate to celebrate in this fashion."

"Papa, it's a pen." I couldn't see what the big deal was and why he was returning my gift. What's so inappropriate? It didn't vibrate or anything.

Papa looked at me with narrow eyes. "Sasha, it is a five-hundred dollar pen, not to mention the designer case and extra cartridges."

I nearly choked on my own spit. Spinning around on Max I snapped. "Are you insane? Five-hundred dollars?!"

Max's shoulder straighten up. "I would have gotten you the 149. It's a better pen, but I thought it was too large for your hands."

"Six-hundred dollars," offered Papa. "Even more inappropriate."

She looked at me. "You promised."

My mouth dropped open and I made a short sound of disbelief then shut it back up. "You're right, I'm sorry." With a sigh I took the pouch with the severely over-price pen from Papa. "You have to make me a promise as well, because I warned you not to go overboard."

I held the pouch possessively to my breast. Max nodded. "That's fair, as long as you keep the pen."

"Good. No more gifts, not until Christmas, or a birthday, or a very special occasion."

"Sasha."

"Papa." I said it just as stern and stubborn as he did.

"Dusho moja." Uh oh, Mom stepped in. "Let the children say their goodbyes in peace."

Yay Mom!

Papa got a frustrated look on his face, but caved. Mom didn't step in the middle of things without good reason so those times were few and far between. But whenever she did assert herself, woe betide the person who crossed her or didn't follow her instructions to the letter.

I watched until they were out of sight before turning back to my girlfriend. I pursed my lips at her, but let go to the frustration of the deed. "Are you going to tell me where you get the money to throw away so much on me?"

Max stepped into me and brushed her finger along my jaw. "It's my money. I told you I get a large allowance each month."

My smirk afterward was accompanied with a raised eyebrow. "A hundred dollars is what I consider a lot."

She nodded once in acceptance. "Then believe me, where I am concerned, five hundred for a thoughtful gift that you can use for years is not a lot."

My fingers slid up her silk blouse, until my hands found the back of her neck. "Papa thinks you are trying to buy your way into my bed."

The irony wasn't lost on either of us.

"He's really taking your change in appearance seriously."

I nodded. "It's really odd. If we decided to date without the changes then he would probably be egging me on."

"Consider yourself egged."

When I saw the now familiar look in Max's eyes, I rose up on the balls of my feet and closed my eyes. The kiss was light this time. She was taking it easy on my lip gloss, not wanting to muss me.

"I better go. I don't want you to get in trouble."

With a smiled I dropped back down to Earth. "Don't worry. Mom's stepped in. I'm okay." I waved the pouch under my chin. "Thank you for the pen. It's perfect for the journal, and I've already got a really nice memory for the first entry."

She smiled, genuine and heartfelt. "You might want to practice with it first. Writing with a fountain pen takes a little while to get used to."

I nodded and reached up to peck her lips again. "Okay, shoo. See you tomorrow morning."

I opened the door for her and watched as she stepped out. "Are you going to wear a dress tomorrow?"

"Would you like me to?"

She grinned. "What can I say? You have very sexy legs."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, you'll just have to wait and see."

Max's face dropped into a silent plea. I rolled my eyes at her. "Go!" I laughed and stayed at the open door to watch her drive away with a happy wave.

When I closed the door I heard it. Raised voices in the background. Trying to ignore the muffled conversation, I closed up the box my new journal came in and held it close to my breast, along with the pouch clutched in my left hand. In order to reach my room, I'd have to pass closely to my parents. That was also when I heard the topic of the heated argument. Me.

"It is unseemly," Papa argued.

"It is not for you to decide anymore. Sasha is an adult and can make her own decisions. You have to trust that we raised her properly, Dusho moja."

"That is the problem, we raised Him to know better, but She is like an unprotected fawn in the woods."

They were talking about me like I changed sexes! One minutes I'm a boy and the next a girl.

Mom's voice hardened. "I think you underestimate the young lady our son has grown into."

"Bah!"

"Do not dismiss me! I am teaching her all she needs to know. Do you think so little of your wife that you think I am helpless."

Uh oh. I could almost see Papa flinch.

"Dusho moja, that is not what I said."

Mom's voice changed levels. I could tell she moved to some other portion of the room. "So now I am your soul? No. Either you trust me to teach our daughter the ways of womanhood or you do not. There is no middle ground. I never dismissed your concerns when it was you that was the teacher and you all but abandoned him three years ago at the appearance of his breasts."

"That is not the same. I did not abandon my son. There were issues that I did not know how to address."

I could almost see Mom wave him off. "I will not go over this tired ground. However, you will acknowledge that our daughter cares for Max. I have never seen her this happy or excited about anything. I swear to you, if you take this away from her then I will never forgive you. I will not stand by and see her in the depression that had all but stolen her from us."

Everything went quiet. My grip on the box tightened and I moved forward to hear what I was missing.

"You are right. She has never been happier or more involved in herself," said Papa.

"Hmph. Now you concede." Her footsteps told me that she moved back to where she was. "You must trust in her, Dusho moja. You saw how quickly she objected when she found out how much that gift costs. She knows it was too much, and she made sensible precautions for the future insuring that Max does not spoil her too much."

"Yes. This is true."

"You do realize that she is not truly a girl in the physical sense. She cannot get pregnant."

I heard a chuckle from Papa. "Yes, but it is so hard to see now. I think I nearly swallowed my tongue when she made her appearance tonight."

"She is very beautiful," said Mom.

"Just like you. She reminds me so much of you, Dusho moja."

"As her stubbornness and drive remind me of you, Dusho moja."

There were some smoochy sounds in the background. Oh, eww. Time to make a retreat.

I tiptoed to my room and saw Mom had laid out something new for me to sleep in and all the bags were gone. At first I'd thought that she took all of my new clothes away. I stepped quickly to the closet to see if they were in there and saw that all of my old clothes were missing and in their place were quite a few new things.

My old self was almost gone.

Crossing to my chest of drawers I opened each in turn to find everything had been replaced with different bras, panties, stockings, pantyhose, socks, everything that a real girl needed.

"Do you mind that I made some changes, sweetheart?"

I jumped and spun in place. Mom was standing at the door observing me. I shook my head, and gripped my box against my breast. "Just surprised that you did it all so quick."

She smiled at me and I could see that her eyes were on my gifts. "You may put them down. Your father will not insist you return them."

I grinned sheepishly and set the box on top of chest, but I still held on to the pouch. "I'm sorry for causing trouble between you and Papa."

Her gait as she walked into the room was reminiscent of what she taught me, smooth and graceful. "Do not concern yourself, child. Your father and I have many conversations where you are involved and also where you are not. However, we always come to an agreement in the end. It is what loving relationships are about."

She crossed to the bed and sat down, patting the space beside her. After joining her, she put her arm around me and drew my head under her chin. "I was very proud of you tonight. So was your father."

I smiled ruefully. "I don't know about that, Mom."

"I've known him longer. You'll have to take my word for it. Having a daughter is a new experience for him. He never had a sister and grew up in a family of boys. So, you will have to accept that he will be a little overprotective of you."

I sighed. "Mom?"

"Yes, sweetheart."

"Do you and Papa think I'm a girl now?"

Her hand tightened a little on my shoulder. "Yes, in a way." When I didn't say anything else, she continued. "You will have to admit that you have taken to living as such quite well."

I nodded silently.

"There is nothing wrong with us referring to you as female. It is just a descriptive term in that sense, for I cannot see a hint of your male self. It is a compliment, and you should take it as such if someone refers to you by the feminine in the future."

I shrugged. "I'm not upset. I kind of like that you think of me that way now. I mean that… I don't want to be… I like being a boy, but I like being a girl too. I like that I don't have to hide anymore. And Max…"

Mom giggled a little. "Yes, Max. You will have to keep a tight reign on him."

It felt so odd referring to Max as a him. Of course, I knew better. When she wanted to, Max could look very feminine, but she looks equally as good when she is a touch more masculine as well. I thought she blended the two rather well that night.

"Do you think I should refer to her as a him now?"

Mom shrugged. "I suppose that is a conversation you should have with Max."

"You're right. I'll talk to her about it tomorrow."

"Speaking of which, you'll need to wake up a little earlier to make sure you have time to get ready. There are many more things to do in the mornings when you are a girl."

Thinking about how long it took me to get ready for dinner tonight night, I agreed. "Okay."

"Now let us choose an outfit for school. That will set some decisions aside and save time in the morning."

Upon entering that closet I noticed a number of shoes lined up on the floor. "I only remember one other box. Where did all the shoes come from?"

"My closet. I admit to having something of a shoe fetish."

At Mom's announcement, my eyes widened and I laughed. She smiled and eyed me. "These are the ones that I was able to part with that I thought would go well with a number of your outfits. Here, take those off."

I unzipped the ones I was wearing and slipped out of them. Mom set them back in the box. "I will have your father build you a proper place for your shoes this weekend. You must not take the chance of scuffing them. Good shoes are quite expensive."

"Yes, Mom."

She frowned. "Sweetheart, would you mind calling me Mama. Mom just doesn't look right coming from you anymore."

I grinned. "Okay… Mama."

"Very good," she said happily. "Now, out of that dress and let's find you something for Max to make a silly face at tomorrow."

Before going to bed, I jotted some notes in my laptop about my experiences over the last two days. I didn't want to make any official entries into the journal until I could write properly with a fountain pen. Then I donned the light pink camisole and shorts set that Mama laid out for me and slipped into bed.

My face felt fresh and clean after taking off the makeup that had been so carefully applied. It was quite a change in my habit of just jumping into bed. Kind of nice in a way.

I dreamed of the previous evening and the time Max and I spent in the park. Things were changed significantly in my subconscious fantasy. Max looked even more masculine, dressed in a coat and tie, and I had much longer hair that moved around my shoulders in the warm breeze.

Instead of the pouch that Max originally withdrew from his pocket, he took out a small velvet box and dropped to one knee and opened it. I cried happy tears at seeing the diamond solitaire and the accompanying proposal of marriage. We kissed and went to tell Mama and Papa the good news.

That's when Mama woke me up the next morning.

I realized it was jumping the gun more than a little, but it was my subconscious, not my conscious mind that did the fantasizing. With a cleansing breath to take the image of the diamond that adorned my ring finger out of my head, I hopped out of bed and did the bathroom thing.

For the first time, I did my own makeup. Since I was going for a daytime look, I was able to stay fairly light. I loved the way my eyes looked the night previous and tried to mirror that with day colors, just not as heavy. In the end, I wasn't completely satisfied, but I did a decent job. I'd have to practice a lot more if I wanted to be as good as Mama.

The look we'd picked out last night would be more at home at a social gathering, but it was smart enough for school without going too overboard.

The dress, in a powder color, was strapless with small ruffles that graduated from bottom to top, larger to smaller, where a good two inches of cleavage showed. It showed off my legs from about an inch above the knee on down. A very wide stretchy multi-strapped belt went around my middle, high above my hips. Girls belts really didn't seem to serve a useful purpose, being there mainly for show.

A black tuxedo blazer smartened up the outfit and covered the majority of my breasts leaving only a two inch span to expose. It was much less than the scoop necks showed. The shoulders were strong and made me look more put together. I pulled up the sleeves to my elbow and grinned in the mirror at the look. It was probably too much, but I wanted to look really good today. A thick-banded metal hinge bracelet went on my left wrist along with a few thin silver bangles for texture. A silver flower ring was slipped on my middle finger on my right hand.

A few shakes of my hands and everything settled. I was getting a little excited about the look and nearly dashed to the closet to pick up the powder colored court shoes. The heels were a little shorter than the previous night, so I felt somewhat safe. I'd definitely have to be careful on the tiled floors, but Max would be there to escort me so I felt confident enough.

After stuffing the pouch with my new pen inside my bag -- there was a handy pocket for an eyeglass case, so it was large enough to hold the pouch -- I shortened the adjustable strap where I could tote it on my shoulder. With the outfit I was wearing, it would look horrible if I carried it cross shoulder.

A couple of swipes through my hair with a brush a few dabs of the perfume Mama got me, and I was finished. I checked my clock. Darn it, forty-five minutes. I'd barely had enough time for some juice and toast.

"Well, don't you look like you are ready for a day at the country club."

I cringed. "It's too much, isn't it. Should I change?"

She laughed a little. "The dress is… no, the blazer brings it down. I think you look fine. From what I've seen of your classmates, you'll definitely be the best dressed girl at school today. The heels look good as well. How do they feel?"

"Good, I guess. Comfortable."

I took a last bite of my toast and checked the time. Max would be there any second. "I have to go brush my teeth."

Right when I was patting my mouth dry, trying my best not mess up my lipstick, I heard the bell ring. I breathed deep again and smiled at the mirror. I hoped Max liked the outfit.

When I appeared, she smiled at me appreciatively. "I think I'm underdressed."

She was sporting a pink girl's cut Oxford, dark blue jeans and flat loafers in brown. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail again. "I think you look great. Very preppy."

"And you look like you just stepped off the runway."

I sniffed playfully. "I guess you'll just have to smarten yourself up if you are going to be with me."

Mama shook her head. "Go on children, you'll be late for class."

"Bye Mrs. Petrovitch."

"Have a good day, Max. And take care of my little girl."

"Mama," I whined just a little.

Max escorted me to the car and held the door for me until I figured out a way to get into the car without flashing her, which she really enjoyed. This time, when I got out at the school parking lot, I felt confident and not the least bit worried about what the day held.

My heels clicked on the pavement and my stride was controlled enough to let go of Max's arm. In its place, I felt her steadying hand at my lower back guiding me along. Again, we were the object of everyone's stares as we entered the building. Mr. Parsons was standing by the office door and gave me an inquiring glance, eyeing my jacket and my bare legs in high heels. His eyebrows raised slightly, but he didn't say anything. I was safe enough with the school dress code allowing one inch above the knee.

I gave him a pretty smile and waved a little before Max led me toward my locker and English class.

"Have you been seeing everyone's faces?" she whispered.

With my class reader in my bag, I closed it. "I don't think I'm going to be popular with the girls."

"They're jealous. You're blowing them away today."

I shrugged. "Once upon a time, students had to look good at school. Now it's a contest to see how bad you can look and get away with. I'd swear they'd wear those ugly flannel pajama pants if they could get away with it."

Max snickered. "We do agree on that. Sometimes I want to slap whoever came up with that trend."

"Holy crap" Was one of the explicatives, among other of the like, I heard when I entered English. I appeared to totally ignore the chatter as I made my way to my corner seat. The boy from yesterday was there and his eyes followed me the entire way. When I arrived I sat my bag on the table and gave him a small smile.

"Hello."

He licked his lips and glanced down at my legs. "New clothes now, I see."

I nodded and swept my dress under my butt before sitting and crossing my legs. The hemline showed almost half of my smooth thigh. I could see how the dress code was actually a good thing. If it rode up any higher, I'd almost be naked from the waist down. Okay, maybe it wasn't that bad, but I'd be conscious of the amount of skin I was showing instead of the lesson plan which was detrimental to my schooling.

"I'm tired of the sloppy styles and thought I'd brighten the place up a little."

He smiled and his eyes moved from my legs to the exposed portion of my cleavage. "You've got my attention."

"Thank you. That's nice of you to say."

"Don't mention it."

More people filed in and after they sat, I was pointed out and more whispers filled the air, among which I heard. "She's hot." And something that followed which was "That's not a she. It's a he." Which was ended with a firm denial. "Bullshit. She was just running a scam and everyone fell for it." That one I had to smile at.

The boy leaned in again and whispered. "Are you sure that you're a guy?"

I snickered. "Uh-huh. Pretty sure."

Once I'd pulled out my notebook, I played around with the Mont Blanc for a few minutes to see what the difference was. Needless to say, that was something else I had to practice with in the near future. I capped it and put it back in its purse, replacing it in my bag.

Mr. Banner entered, eyed me and shook his head before calling roll. We'd gotten five minutes into the day's lecture when I saw one of the girls in the middle of the class raise her hand. When called upon, she lowered it and looked as troubled as she could.

"Mr. Banner, I'm sorry. I'm having trouble concentrating on you with a transvestite in the class. I don't feel safe anymore."

A few of the guys on the other side of the class broke into snickers.

I immediately raised my hand and didn't wait to be called on. "I'm sorry Mr. Banner I really don't feel safe either. The person that's calling me a transvestite is rumored to perform oral favors on half of the starting line up on the football team. Lethal STD's could be floating around even as she speaks."

That's when the class broke into chaos.

Seven of us were sitting in the front office waiting for our turn with the assistant principal. Guess who was last?

The bell went off while I waited and I saw Max through the glass that was the wall to the hallway. I finger-waved at her and she kind of half-waved back at me. She didn't look happy at all, so I shrugged in helplessness. Max tapped her watch and flashed a two and three sign at me which I took to mean that she'd see me between classes. I nodded and waved again.

Another fifteen minutes passed and I finally got called in.

Mr. Parsons didn't look happy to see me for the second day in a row. "I'm getting kind of tired of this Sasha."

I swept my dress under and gracefully sat then crossed my legs. "Imagine how I feel. I've been dealing with this abuse ever since I came to this school. Yet nobody in authority does anything about it."

He let that one go for now and looked down at his notes. "It says here that you verbally assaulted Carolyn Danvers, claiming that she performs sexual favors to the entire football team, and has AIDS."

I shook my head. "I said there was a rumor of oral favors, not sexual, and I also said half the starting line up, not the entire team. That would be somewhat unrealistic. Plus, I never said she had AIDS. I said that there may be lethal STD's in the air. All of these statements are true to my knowledge."

He raised his eyebrows. "All because she said there was a transvestite in the room. That seems to be a true statement as well."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Pick up a decent dictionary, sir. Look up Transvestite. You'll find that it is a term used to describe a person that dresses in the clothing of the opposite gender. You'll also find in the better dictionaries that they do so for sexual gratification. Crossdresser would be a more accurate term. Being an educator at one time I'd think that you would have known this. Personally I think Transgender would be the best descriptive term due to the growth of my breasts and general feminine appearance in spite of my actual masculine genetic standing."

"Transgender."

I nodded. "It's a noun. A person appearing or attempting to be a member of the opposite sex, as a transsexual or habitual cross-dresser. As such, I am appearing to be the opposite sex and due to the number of girls clothes in my closet currently, I'd definitely say habitual-crossdresser would be apt."

Mr. Parsons looked at me in a strange attempt to stare me down. I didn't want to play his game so I looked down and brushed some imaginary lint off of my blazer.

"Be that as it may, I can't allow you to disrupt class. This makes two days in a row, and…"

"It was Carolyn Danvers that disrupted Mr. Banner's class and I see you've already dismissed her. Was there any punishment involved for verbally attacking me or disrupting class?"

"That is between Carolyn and myself."

I grabbed my bag and stood. "Then we're through here, sir."

He stood and pushed his chair back. "Sit down, Mr. Petrovitch."

"Have I broken any rules for the dress code?"

"That's beside the point, even with your flaunting…" He cut himself off before digging any deeper.

"Flaunting?" I raised my voice. "I'm better dressed that anyone in the school and I'm flaunting?" I was so pissed I was about to say stupid things, but I calmed myself. "Be very careful about the next words out of your mouth, about me and my character, Mr. Parsons. Currently I have witnessed and become victim to sexual discrimination, denial of my first amendment right to free speech and freedom of expression, and now you are skirting dangerously close to verbal abuse of a student under your care."

"Go home, Mr. Petrovitch. You are welcome to attend school when you have returned, dressed more appropriately."

He called me on it. I was stunned and I obviously showed it, because he smiled. So, I'd call him on it as well. "No."

"No?"

"No. School is in session and I am enrolled as a student. I don't want the unexcused absence on my record. You are obligated by law to provide me with an education."

I watched as he picked up his phone. "I need security in my office."

This wasn't fair! I'd bluffed the whole lawyer thing. I had no idea how to go about involving the ACLU and I knew my family couldn't afford an actual attorney. And all the worse. I couldn't talk to Max.

By the time I'd walked home, my feet and ankles were killing me and I had a blister on the back of my heel where the shoe was rubbing. The inside phone rang as I was trying to open the door, and kept dropping the key.

"Hello."

"Sasha?" Max sounded worried.

"Max, they kicked me out of school!"

"Where are you now?"

I sniffed and rubbed my nose. "Trying to get my stupid key to work at my house."

"Look, baby. Don't worry. I've got this. You just take the day and do something to make you happy. I just need to know what happened, specifically."

I told him the whole sordid tale from beginning to end as best as I could remember. When I got to the end, I could swear Max was going to meet Mr. Parsons in an alley somewhere and deprive him of his manhood, but at the same time he sounded elated. "Are you sure about what he said? Those were his exact words?"

"Yeah."

"Sit tight, baby. I'll have you in school no later than tomorrow morning and you'll have a public apology not to mention a few other things. Trust me."

"I do."

"I gotta go make some calls."

"Okay, bye."

Not having really worn my outfit for any length of time, I took it off and hung it back up, then changed into peach-colored linen shorts with a cute belt that I'd tied in a big bow, and my white scoop-neck. I put some ointment on my heel and a big band-aid so it wouldn't get infected then I sat down at my laptop.

After a little searching I found a site on calligraphy and started practicing with the blue ink, the least of my favorites, trying desperately to get my mind off of what happened at school. While Max was my hero in quite a few ways, I doubted whether even she could pull off having me in school the next day. On the way home I'd resolved never to go back to wearing the compression vest and being the meek little school mouse afraid of his own shadow.

When my hand started hurting about an hour later I capped the pen and set it back in its pouch, storing it away in my bag. With nothing else to do I started surfing makeup sites, looking for something, I didn't know what. The holy blending pallet or something. I'd learned a lot about real application and the effects certain products have on skin. It was all very fascinating. So much so that I actually put my troubles into their own little hole in my head and was startled when the phone rang.

When I restarted my heart, I answered. "Hello."

"Sasha, it's me."

"Max," my breathing increased and I felt a warmth in my chest.

"Listen, I don't have much time. I'm in the bathroom, but I made a few contacts. Someone is going to call you in a few minutes. They aren't playing around, okay."

"Uh…"

She chuckled a little. "Trust me. Everything is on the level. I didn't want you hanging up on them thinking it was a prank."

"Why would I think…"

"Sorry baby, I gotta go. Good luck."

Ugh! The second I hung up the phone, it rang again. "Okay. I think I'm going to need some heart pills if this keeps up. Hello."

"Hello, may I please speak with Sasha Petrovitch?"

The lady on the other end sounded… authoritative, if that was actually decipherable over the phone. "Speaking."

"Sasha, my name is Sarah Perkins. I'm a researcher for Grant Strongholme at KPHX news. If you have time, I'd like to ask you a few questions about an incident at your high school this morning."

I recognized the name of the guy she was researching for. He was famous in town for digging up whistleblowers, taking down corrupt politicians, you name it. If someone did something illegal and they were in power, then they might as well kiss their butts along with their careers goodbye.

I swallowed thinking of the implications. How in the heck did Max manage this? "Uh, okay."

She ran through the story I told Max, almost word for word. Verifying the names, and times things happened. Then she got into what my life was like since I started high school, my medical conditions and the reasons I started dressing the way I wanted to. We talked for what seemed like forever, but was in fact a little more than two hours. When we were done I was emotionally drained and more than a little tired.

"Thank you for taking the time to go over all of this with me, Miss Petrovitch." By that time she'd known all about me being a boy, but she gave me the female honorific at the end. "I want to run this by Mr. Strongholme, but I already know what he'll say. Would you mind if I contacted the ACLU on your behalf?"

I nearly cried. "No, I wouldn't mind at all, thank you."

"I'm sure we'll talk again soon, Miss Petrovitch. But just in case, I'd like to tell you good luck."

"Thank you." I hung up and rubbed at my ear.

I looked at the clock and noted that it was almost time for school to let out. My mouth was parched after all of that talking and I grabbed a soda and took a seat by the front window to wait for my girlfriend. It didn't take long. Five minutes after the last bell would have rang I saw Max's car race into the driveway. I met her at the front porch.

"Sorry it took me so long. I had to take care of a few things."

I sighed into her neck and squeezed her as tight as I could before letting go. "How did you get the local news to call me about this?"

She shrugged. "I know people who know people. They live for this kind of crap. It's like throwing raw meat to a pit bull. Parsons is an idiot. I can't believe that he'd actually think he could get away with doing this."

Max was grinning like she knew something that I didn't know.

"Have you told me everything you've done already?"

Her face shifted to appear angelic. "Who me?"

I raised my brow to her and waited.

"Ugh, fine torture me already." She sighed. "Do you trust me?"

I nodded. "Good, grab your purse and lets go."

I looked down at myself. "Do I need to change?"

"No," he said as if I'd mentioned something stupid. "You look great. You might need some shoes though."

Dipping into the closet I retrieved the other pair of shoes that Mama got me, a pair of goddess sandals in a neutral tan. Apparently sandals that looked like someone stepped in from ancient Greece were in at the moment.

The back strap gripped just under my band-aid so there wasn't an issue there. I grabbed my bag and locked up before hopping in the car. "Where are we going?"

She just smiled at me.

"Maaax," I whined.

"I've decided that you've had a rough couple of days and you need some pampering."

I wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but she hadn't let me down so far, so I let her have her secrets. Thirty minutes later we pulled up to an office building.

I looked up through the windshield. "There's pampering in here?"

Max nodded. "Uh-huh."

We walked through the lobby, past security who didn't even bat an eye as us and then past a bank of elevators to a single door that also looked like an elevator. Max pulled out her wallet and withdrew a card which she inserted in to the provided slot to the side. The door immediately opened and we climbed aboard. After choosing the seventeenth floor, Max waited for me to say something, but I just smiled and reached for her hand.

"Are you doing something over the top?"

She grinned happily. "I can honestly say that I won't be spending a dime while we are here."

My free hand found my bag. "Should I have brought more money?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Don't worry, it's all been taken care of. Like I said before, I know people who know people."

I frowned. "I thought you just moved here."

"I did. My Mom got shipped overseas and I live with my Dad now. You already know this."

When the elevator dinged to let us know we'd arrived, I waited for the door to open. We stepped into a lobby of sorts. A receptionist smiled and stood up from her desk. "Miss Slade. Your father said you would be by with a friend and we were to give you the run of the house."

There was one of those big logo things behind the desk, hanging on the wall. It looked really familiar, but I couldn't place it.

"Thank you, Sharon. This is Sasha and she's here for the works."

The receptionist nodded. "Of course. If you'll just follow me, we'll get her started."

I held Max back for a second. "Your father called? Does he own this place?"

"Something like that."

I just breathed a sigh at Max's secrets. He never would say what his parents did for a living, only that she was taken care of and happy.

The works consisted of my receiving a half hour massage, manicure, pedicure, highlights in my hair, and a slight change in style. They angled my bob a little. Not too much to be severe, but noticeable nonetheless. The final touch was a professional makeover. The makeup artist, I found out was brought in specifically for me, taught me how to play up my strengths and minimize my problem areas. She worked with me for an hour and a half teaching me as she went.

The odd part was when she called Max in to tote away what looked like a large silver toolkit. When the lesson was over, I looked like a totally different person. I was stylish and not merely pretty. She'd told me that everything we'd used didn't contain any of the nasty crap that over the counter cosmetics had in them to spontaneously make girls across the country break out in pimples and dry spots so they could sell them something else that didn't really work. It had the plus side of lasting all day no matter what my activity level. The only thing I'd have to touch up on occasion was my gloss. I was in love with this stuff.

By the time I made it out to the lobby on the seventeenth floor, Max was waiting for me with a grin on her face. "Have fun?"

I nodded. "Thanks, that's just what I needed and I learned so much."

"You look stunning. I'm afraid to kiss you. I'd mess you up."

I puckered up. "Kiss away. I have some gloss in my bag."

She called the elevator and showed me how much she liked my lips. We stopped when we heard the ding and entered the car. The receptionist was open-mouthed and staring at our display. Before the doors closed Max called out. "Don't worry, Sharon. She's a guy and my boyfriend."

The door closed right at the last part, so I smacked Max on the arm. "Quit torturing the help."

"What's in the toolbox?"

"Hmm?"

I pointed in the back seat. "The toolbox back there."

"Oh, something my dad sent along." My eyes narrowed. "You can call him if you want. I told you I didn't spend a dime today. And believe me, it didn't cost him anything either."

I frowned. "He knows people that know people."

A big grin stretched her face and showed a cute dimple on her cheek. "Now your getting the hang of it."

"So what is it?"

I tried to reach back to pull it up front but the sucker must have weighted twenty or thirty pounds. I'd have to wait. I hated waiting, especially where presents were involved. I'm really not a nice person on the days leading up to my birthday and Christmas. Mama and Papa would have to wait until the day before to do any shopping because I'd always find where the presents were hidden. I never peeked, but it wasn't my fault if sometimes the present was too big to wrap or they hadn't gotten around to wrapping them yet. They should have known better.

"What time is it?"

"Six-thirty." I nearly freaked but she cut me off before I got a good burn-on. "I already called your mom and filled her in on everything, and told her where you've been."

That kind of surprised me. "How'd she take it?"

Max shrugged. "Lets just say that I'm kind of glad I don't understand Serbian. I probably would have learned a few choice ways to castrate someone. But I'm pretty sure I remember most of the curses she said. She's got a serious mean-on for Parsons at the moment."

That was my mom. Nobody hurt her family. I think she was the one that those people who make up sayings and stuff modeled after the term mama-bear.

"I got her calmed, I think."

"How'd you do that?"

"I told her what I was doing."

More smiles and more secrets.

When we'd arrived at home, Max grabbed the tool chest and toted it in behind me. Mama was waiting at the front door for me with a hug followed by Papa, who surprisingly enough shook Max's hand. Whoa.

"Thank you for what you did today, Max. We are in your debt."

"I did it for Sasha, sir. I want to see him happy is all."

I watched as Papa pressed his lips together and nodded once in acceptance. He eyed the toolbox, but didn't get a chance to complain.

"It didn't cost anything sir. My father has people that he does things for. In return they offer him incentives to advertise their products to his clients. This is one of them that he thought Sasha would enjoy."

I tugged on my mother's sleeve. "Mama, she won't tell me what's inside." I grinned. "Make her tell me."

Mama rolled her eyes and looked at Max. She took a hint and laughed. "I just wanted to wait until we got you home."

She looked around. "Where can I set this that wont accidentally scratch anything?"

"On the coffee table, dear. Sasha use the afghan."

I zipped around to the sofa and sat down, the afghan was draped over the top of the couch. I folded it and laid it across the table. Max set the toolbox down and flipped the secure latches on the sides and top before opening. "Remember, this didn't cost anything."

I looked at him and then down at the case. It split open and split itself in half. As it did something from the middle extended up and out making three levels on one side and the other side popped up a rectangular lighted mirror. What the heck?

There were dozens of little jars of various sizes that contained…

I inhaled sharply. "No way," I gasped in disbelief.

"What is that?" asked Papa.

Mama answered. "Consider yourself lucky, Dusho moja. You probably won't have to pay for Sasha's makeup for the next year or two."

One level was nothing but tools of the trade and all the rest was enough makeup to keep me busy for ages. "Oh my God. It's Lica!"

Papa was clueless, and even Mama didn't know what I was talking about. Max clued them in. "Lica is the cosmetic company that supplied all of this. My father had one of their representatives come down and teach Sasha how to professionally do her makeup. She wearing their product now."

"Mama, this… this…" I picked up a palm sized jar of glittery powered substance. "This is like sixty-five dollars just by itself." Looking up at Max, I asked in complete disbelief. "This was free?"

She nodded. "Dad knows a lot of really rich people. Occasionally they all get together and Dad does this thing where he prepares gift baskets. You've seen the stuff all the people at the Academy Awards get just for coming?" I nodded. "Same concept. Usually there's a few samples of a single manufacturer in a basket. The rich people take it home and use it then buy their own, blah blah blah, word of mouth to their friends, or if they're in the public eye, free advertisement."

Ah.

"So Lica sends this to Dad, kind of like a bribe. Since he doesn't have a wife or girlfriend at the moment and I barely use makeup, he offered it to me to give to you."

"It's makeup," said Papa like he still didn't get it.

"Papa, this is like the best makeup in the world. The Rolls Royce of makeup." His eyebrows rose and he inhaled a little, bored-like. He still wasn't impressed. I grabbed another jar that was almost hand-sized filled with little beads with twisty heads. "These are Magic Capsules, well not real magic, that's its name. This costs two hundred and fifty dollars by itself."

"For makeup?"

My shoulders dropped. "Mama, make him stop."

She ignored me. "What are those Magic Capsules for?"

"Oh, it's anti-aging stuff. This is supposed to work better than anything out there."

She snatched it out of my hand. "Hey!"

"You're not old. Get over it, Sasha," she said with a pleased smile and a look at the little beads.

Papa shook his head. "Max, a word in the kitchen."

I looked worried for my girlfriend and Mama sat down beside me to look through the makeup case. "Do not worry so much, child. Your father is bonding with your boyfriend. Max impressed him with his quick thinking and action on your behalf. He's going to give him his blessing to court you."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Here, you don't need these either." She swiped a bottle of Age-Defying Eye Gel and a bottle of Skin Repair Serum as well.

"This is so awesome."

Mama looked at me and her smile dropped. "Use a different word, Sasha. You know better."

She hated it when I used 'awesome' or 'like' in sentences. She says it shows low intelligence and lack of verbal skills. This time I didn't care. Awesome was the perfect word for this particular present. "Max is going to spoil me rotten, Mama."

She snorted just a little. "A present every day he's known you. I'd say so. Just don't come to expect them and don't take him for granted for giving them to you. Be gracious and make sure he doesn't receive certain rewards for the gifts, if you take my meaning. Those rewards should only be given for the love he shows you when the glittery things are not around to dazzle either of you."

"Max is so thoughtful when she's not trying to act like a guy."

"It is an act?"

I shrugged. "Sort of. I know she's not fond of all the feminine things for herself, but I think she thinks she's expected to act a certain way in order to be taken seriously. Sometime the things she says are silly. But I kind of like that she calls me babe on occasion."

Mama shook her head. "You will let me know how to refer to your Max then, soon. I do not want to offend him or her by using an unwanted pronoun."

I shook my head. "I don't think she'd be offended. There are already people who are referring to me as a girl even thought it's common knowledge I'm a boy. She's heard them and hasn't said anything, and believe me, she would if she didn't like it."

"He has defended your honor already?"

I winced a little. "Twice. Once when I got this bruise from a jerk bumping into me. Max clanged his head into the door jamb. The other time was yesterday when that jerk that hurt me at the beginning of ninth grade showed up to cause trouble." I sighed. "I'm pretty sure if there weren't people around and a teacher coming, that Max would have hurt him for scaring me. He just got away with his hand, arm and finger almost being twisted off."

"He does not know about that specific boy being the one that injured you so badly back then?"

I shook my head. "I'm scared about what Max would do to him if she found out."

Mama measured that in her head for a moment before frowning. "Just like your father. If anyone so much as laid a hand on me in anger, your father would make sure they didn't pull it back without a piece missing or painfully altered." She smiled at me. "Our men are passionate in their love for us, Sasha. It makes them act irrationally at times. You must be there to provide the calming influence and step in if necessary to prevent him from going too far."

I returned her smile. "Like you do with Papa."

"He is Dusho moja, child, my soul. You will find out soon enough about what that really means. It is not just a term of endearment for us."

Soon enough, Max and Papa came back out to the living room and I regarded my girlfriend. She looked somewhat relaxed and relieved. "I should get going, Sasha. Dad wants me home for a late dinner."

At the thought of food, my stomach churned. It was then that I realized I hadn't had any lunch either. "I'll walk you out."

Mama stayed where she was and examined some of the jars of eyeliner while Papa again shook his head at the mass of makeup on his coffee table. Hand in hand I walked with Max to the driver's side and stood there.

"Thank you for the gift."

She smiled and leaned down to give me a short kiss. "You're welcome. I like seeing you happy."

I sighed and give her a smile. "Just having you around is enough to make me happy, Max. I really don't need all of the other things."

She nodded. "I understand, really. When my parents split up a few years back, both of them gave me anything I wanted. Everything but them getting back together. That's all I really wanted, so when I didn't get that I punished them by asking for everything. The best clothes, toys, games, computers, jewelry, you name it and it was mine."

Wow. "You cleaned up."

The edge of her mouth quirked. "Not really. Some of the stuff was okay, but most of it never made it out of the package. Eventually I got over it and now I only really ask for stuff that I need." She looked at the Corolla. "Like this. It's a nice reliable car. Gas mileage is good and it serves my needs. If I wanted, I could have gotten my mom to take me to the Porsche dealership."

I stood there for a moment thinking about what it's going to be like to be involved with such a rich person. My family has usually been well off, comfortable. I'd never been exposed to the high life before.

"Sasha, I want you to have everything you want."

Moving into her, I hugged her waist and snuggled my face into her neck. "I've already got everything right here… well, maybe the makeup case too. That'll be everything." At her laugh I added, "I've got to look pretty for you. So, it's not really a want as it is a need."

I sniffed and pulled back. "Have you been drinking?"

"Uh… your dad insisted we do some sort of Serbian deal sealing pact or something. It was just half a shot glass of some type of brandy."

My eyebrows lifted in curiosity and wonder.

"He gave me his blessing to officially court you. Apparently he likes it when people who mess with his family get smacked down."

I covered my mouth and laughed. "Oh, you've got the seal of approval then. Papa is very serious about his brandy."

"Good." Then she looked back at the house. "We're supposed to go out to the golf course this weekend. I have no idea how to play golf. He's supposed to teach me."

"Really?" Wow, dad really did give his seal of approval. He hates playing with beginners.

"Yeah, he kept calling me 'son'. It was weird."

"Oh crap, sorry. Mama and Papa have been using feminine pronouns for me and masculine for you. I forgot to ask if that would bother you."

She shrugged. "I guess not. I mean we're kind of asking for it. Does it bother you?"

I shook my head. "I kind of like it."

Her hands slid down to my hips. "Do you want me to do the same?"

I shrugged shyly and looked forward at her chest. "If you want." My eyes darted up and met hers. "I could call you my boyfriend now."

"Deal."

Something about that moment solidified in my heart. I knew that from that moment on that I would never be a boy again. Warring thoughts over the last couple of days had me second-guessing my decision to put myself through so much upheaval, but deep down I knew this was a defining decision for me and that I loved everything that meant being feminine.

It was fate that brought Max into my life a few days ago, but it was me that had finally realized in what direction my life was supposed to go. A few inches of flesh and its accompanying baggage didn't define who I was inside, neither did the side effects of the medicine I was taking for my thyroid. Male and female were mixed together in my body, but femininity ruled my spirit as it seemed masculinity ruled Max's.

My hands traveled upward to Max's shoulders. I brushed his small breasts on the way up and then palmed the back of his neck to pull him down to my lips in a final kiss for the evening. It was sweet and soft, full of the beginnings of how I felt for him. We hadn't known each other for long, but that was inconsequential at the moment. It felt like I'd known him for years, the other side of my soul that had been missing, making me incomplete, was now here filling me with passion and desire, completing me in ways that I hadn't thought possible. He was the other half of my soul. Dusho moja.

I shuttered at the realization and dropped back down. My heart was pounding and my breath rapidly increasing. Max's eyes glittered in the low sun as he searched my face. Did he feel the same way toward me? Had he realized that we were meant to be together forever? Should I say something, tell him I love him?

I quashed the feeling. Not yet. It might scare him off, and that would crush me. Instead I smiled longingly and stepped out of his embrace.

"Be ready for school tomorrow. Dress in something professional, conservative, feminine. Nothing too revealing."

I just nodded at his instructions, afraid that if I opened my mouth that I would ruin everything with professed feelings of love that he might not be ready for just yet.

"I'll pick you up a little earlier than normal, about twenty minutes, okay."

I just nodded again.

He looked at me with his head cocked slightly to the side, like he was trying to figure something out. "Are you okay?"

Stupidly, another nod confirmed my okayness.

He smiled at me and then hopped into his car, waving as he drove away. Slowly, I shuffled into the house and closed the front door. Mama and Papa were chatting on the sofa. With the door locked, I leaned my back up against it and stared off into space.

"Sasha."

My attention was drawn to my mother, seeing the concerned look on her face. "Ohh, child. You see it now don't you?'

Expectant eyes met mine. I swallowed weakly and nodded.

"What?" asked Papa, oblivious to what Mama realized.

She stood and stepped from behind the coffee table. "Your daughter has found her love, Dusho moja. She's just now seen the possibilities."

Moments later I was in Mama's arms and hearing her whisper in my ear. "Remember this moment, Sasha. Wrap it around you when you feel overwhelmed and unsure of yourself. It is powerful and unyielding. I am so happy for you."

Warm tears fell from my eyes as I hugged her back. Mama understood. "This is what you feel for Papa?"

"Of course, child. He is my rock in the storm of my life. Without him I would not have you, the greatest gift he has ever given me. Of course he is my soul."

She stood back to look at my face. "Come, let's go to your room and you can tell me all about the moment, as I told my mother and she told her mother before her."

Papa looked concerned and thoughtful as he always did. I wondered what he was thinking, but let Mama lead me to my room and the comfort of my bed.

To be Continued...

Author's note: The second part is finished and going through editing at the moment... and just as long. 55,000+ words so far
2nd Author's note: This is a mildly unrealistic romance, mainly because it will be moving so fast. Otherwise this story would go on forever. So I hope you don't let it take away from the enjoyment of your reading.

The next morning I had a trendy business suit set aside, blessing Mama with each breath at her thoughtfulness in making sure I was covered for a number of occasions. I'd have to go out and add to the clothes she started me off with, but I had a firm foundation with which to build.

A plain white Oxford started everything off. I left the first three buttons opened to hint at cleavage but not show it off. Next was a high waist pencil skirt that hugged my hips and the tops of my thighs, hanging down, looser at my knees. A scoop neck tuxedo vest rested over the shirt and hid the upper portion of the skirt discounting the need for a belt. The last was a one button stretch jacket with a square weave. Jacket, skirt, and vest were are in the same color, gray.

I looked professional, ready for a day at the office, or a nice business meeting. I winced at the gray court shoes and remembered the broken blister on my heel. With the fresh application of antibiotic ointment and a clear band-aid I slid into the shoes and flinched slightly at a little pinch of pain.

I stood in front of the mirror and turned to the side to see how the outfit looked. The pain on my ankle was worth it. I looked good.

It took me a few tries, but I mixed some gray and white eyeshadow to mirror the color of the outfit and widen my eyes. The rest of the time I spent perfecting the face that I had the previous night. My black bag was perfect for the outfit. I almost felt like going out and conquering the world when I was finished.

When I entered the kitchen Mama was adding cream to her coffee and did a double-take. "My my, don't you look five years older."

I grinned, happily. That was the look I was going for. "Thank you."

"Ready for today? I hear from your father that it will be a busy one."

My adult-looking façade fell in a teenaged huff. "What? Max told him but not me?"

She sipped at her coffee. "There is a reason for this, Sasha. Don't be angry at Max. It is important that you are ignorant of what will be happening this morning. Your father agrees that this is best and I do as well."

I frowned a little, but let it go. The doorbell rang a moment later and I looked longingly at the bagel that Mama was eating before going to answer the door.

"Perfect," Max said as I stepped back to allow him inside. He was wearing black slacks and a bright blue silk top, looking decidedly yummy as always. His hair was shinier than normal almost slick, but still in the low ponytail.

A quick peck on the lips and he looked around. "Your dad's not here, right?'

I raised my brow. "No. He already left for work."

Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a small box… no, not that small. When he opened it there was a medium sized brooch inside with a smooth clear jewel in the center surrounded by a starburst of what I hoped weren't diamonds.

"Max." My voice sounded warily.

"Don't worry, it's costume. I just thought you'd might like a little splash.

I sighed and stood there while he affixed it to the lapel.

"Good morning, Max."

He turned slightly and nodded. "Good morning, Mrs. Petrovitch."

Mama looked at the brooch and didn't seem concerned at all. She probably recognized that it wasn't real. "Would you care for some coffee before you set off?"

"Yes, thank you. Black, no sugar."

Mama smiled. "Yes, you're still in training."

Max stepped back and critically looked me over. "You need something else. Ah, I know what's missing. Those silver bangles you wore yesterday, the thin ones."

I nodded. "I thought that would be too much."

"No, you need something to offset the gray. You don't want to appear prim and proper. What we are looking for is no-nonsense but trendy."

"How about rings?"

He shook his head. "No, the bangles will do fine."

When I returned with bagels in tow Max gave me two thumbs up. "Perfect, they're going to love you."

I set my hands on my hips and glared. "Who? Who are they?"

He sipped at his coffee. "You'll find out later."

With an evil glare I huffed and went to pour some juice and toast a bagel. Once breakfast was finished, all three of us set out. Mama gave me a kiss on the cheek and for the first time did the same with Max. "You two have fun today. And good luck."

She drove off with Max there rubbing his cheek. "What was that for?"

I slipped my hand through his arm. "She likes that you make me happy. Mama approves of you too. So you're stuck with me now. It's too late to make a getaway."

He snorted. "Like I'd be stupid enough to let you go."

I preened and he escorted me to the car. Getting in was even more difficult with the pencil skirt. It was just too tight to let me split my legs apart properly.

Max made sure to arrive a little later than normal. In fact he went so far as to make me wait before getting out of the car. Once the majority of the students had entered we got out and he set his hand at the small of my back leading me down the center of the walkway. Right before we reached the door, three of the main doors opened. Parsons was in the middle, flanked by the same two security guys that kicked me to the curb the day previous.

"Mr. Petrovitch, I see you're still flouting the rules."

We stopped and for once Max didn't say anything. At first I was hurt, but Parsons ticked me off enough for me to defend myself. "What rules would those be. I'm well within school dress code."

He looked at Max. "You're going to be late for class."

Max withdrew his hand and went inside, all without giving me a second glance. This was more than hurting me. He betrayed me. My stomach knotted, and I felt nauseous. After the door closed, Parsons turned back to me. "I told you once before. I don't want your kind at my school. You can either wear normal clothes or you can stay home."

"But…"

"No buts."

A couple of boys I recognized as seniors walked past and laughed at me when they heard the tail end of our conversation. My eyes started to burn and my face was flushed. "You can't do this."

"Watch me."

He nodded at the security guys and the moved forward. I took a step back but they grabbed me and we all spun around.

"LET GO!" I screamed and struggled in their overly large mitts.

"Get your freaking hands off of her!"

Max!

Parsons turned around. "Would you like to join her… whatever your name is?"

Max moved in and one of the security guys let go of me. "I said let her go. You're already going to be up on assault charges would you like to add illegal detainment to that?"

I hit at the hand of the guard that still had a hold on my forearm. "It hurts, let go!"

"Escort them both off the premises, gentlemen."

Max turned and got into Parsons face. "You're going down, scuzzball."

Parsons smiled. "You have to prove it first. With no witnesses, you're going to have a hard time doing that."

Max laughed and grinned. "See that brooch Sasha's wearing? Yeah, we're going to have about twenty-thousand witnesses by tonight and maybe a few million a couple of days afterward. Pack your bags Parsons."

At that announcement the security guard let go of my arm and I smacked him anyway.

"Come on Sasha. We need to get to the hospital and notify the police so they can document the bruises on your arm."

I prayed for a camera to appear so I could take a picture of the look on Parsons face, but I was denied. Max took a hold of my upper arm and led me to the car. When we made it to my side I spun on him and hit his arm with the heel of my hand. Then I did it again.

"You left me with them! I thought you got scared and left me alone with them!"

I hit him a couple of more times, but in the end he grabbed me and held me tight while I burst into tears in his arms.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry. I wasn't gone, just hiding around the corner. I wouldn't have let them hurt you. I swear."

I tried to draw back again, but he held me tighter. "You left me alone," I sobbed.

"I'm so sorry, baby. We had to have a real reaction from you. Parsons couldn't know that anything was going on. I told your dad. He didn't like it, but he agreed it was for the best."

I struggled and Max finally let go of me. I looked up at him with my tear stained face. "Take me home."

"Sasha, we have to get the police to…"

"Take -- me -- home."

Maybe it was the murderous glare I gave him or it was something else, but he stepped back and fumbled for his keys. He beeped the lock open and reached for the handle, but I slapped at his hand. "I can open my own door."

"Sasha…"

Holding my hands up and away, I stopped him. "I don't want to talk about it. I just want to go home and get out of these ridiculous clothes and these fucking heels that are rubbing the skin off of my feet. So if you aren't going to take me then let me know so I can start walking."

He finally surrendered.

The ride home was anything but easy and when we got there Max turned off the car and I got out as quick as I could. He followed me and my hands were shaking so hard that it too me almost a full minute to key my key in the door. "Stay here," I snapped. "I'll be right back."

He had his head tilted down and just nodded in response. When I got inside I kicked off my heels and took off the jacket on the way to my room. I grabbed two of the Forever 21 bags that were left over and upended my organizer bag on my bed, spilling its contents across the comforter and some of it to the floor. Grabbing the pouch for the fountain pen I shoved the bag and the pouch inside the shopping bag and then went and put the clothes Max bought for me into the other.

Looking at the makeup kit, I almost choked, but I stuffed the few things that were loose back inside before wrestling it to the floor. I grabbed the bags and the handle to the kit and dragged it along with me to the front door.

Right when I was about to open it, I spied the brooch pinned to the jacket and ripped it off. I opened the door and tossed the clothes bag out.

"Sasha, what…"

With both hands I dragged the kit outside and dropped the end on the porch. "There's everything you bought me and gave me, Max. We're done. Goodbye." Before I closed the door I threw the brooch at him, hitting him in the chest.

Everybody lost today. Parsons, Max, me, there were no winners, only losers.

The vest came off next. I picked up the coat and hung it up in my closet along with the shirt and skirt. The knots in my stomach turned to lead and there was nothing I wanted more than to just crawl in the closet and die, which was where I was at when Mama came home.

I didn't answer when she called for me, but eventually she saw the open door and checked. She visibly relaxed and sighed.

"Sasha. Max called and told me what happened. What are you doing?"

My tears had dried long ago and now I looked at her with the salty streams a part of my makeup. "Did you know?"

"Did I know what, child," she said as she knelt beside me.

"About this morning. That he was going to leave me there by myself. I held up my arms and showed her my bruises. "They hurt me, Mama."

She looked at my arms and her face turned to stone. "Who did this?" I'd never heard her voice sound more deadly.

"The security guards. Mr. Parsons told them to kick me off the property. He said that he didn't want people like me at his school."

Mama rose and went to the phone at my desk and punched some numbers. "I need to report an assault on my child… yes, his name is Parsons, he is the assistant principal at the high school my daughter attends… yes, that's right, Petrovitch… oh, she did? Well, then what are you going to do about it?"

Mama was well past mad and about to go into a full fledged rage. "I don't care if my child is eighteen, twelve, or sixty-two. Sasha had every right to be there and that man had his Gestapo goons manhandle her like she was common trash." She huffed in anger. "Very well, we will be there."

After hanging up she returned to the closet. "Get up, Sasha. You are a Petrovitch. We do not cower in the closet like frightened rabbits. Get dressed in the clothes you were wearing this morning and be quick."

I scrambled up and dressed as quick as I could.

"Where is…" Mama stuck her head back in the closet as I was buttoning my Oxford. "Where is your makeup and your purse? Why are your things scattered all over." Finally clicking she looked at the empty hangers and rolled her eyes. "Sasha, please tell me you did not do something stupid."

My face told the entire story. "Ugh, you are so much like your father. React first and damn the consequences." With a sigh she pointed at me. "Hurry up. There is much damage that needs repairing."

I slipped on the vest and the jacket over it. Buttoning the vest on the way out of the room, Mama was waiting for me at the door. "Get your identification child."

I found the clutch on the floor on the other side of the bed. I forgot to give that back to Max. Grabbing it, I hurried back to Mama and slipped my heels back on.

The police station smelled like sweat. There were several people milling about, typing at their ancient computers. The lady that was helping us wore a brown polyester pantsuit and her nails were bitten to the quick.

"Did you tell them to let you go or to stop?"

I nodded. "Both, that's when Max came back out. One of them let go and I hit at the other one holding me. He hurt my arm."

"Let me see."

Mama helped me with my jacket and I rolled up the left sleeve. There were already dark splotches in the shape of fingers on my forearm. She picked up a phone and pushed three numbers. After a short paused she said, "This is detective Gilbert. I need someone to take some pictures of an assault victim."

"Roll up your other sleeve, Sasha," Mama told me.

I did so and I could see marks, but not nearly as bad. "The other guy did this."

The detective nodded. "It should be easy enough to find out who these guys are, but I'll need a description."

I could do better than that. "One's name was Bryant, and the other Kurtz. Kurtz is the one who did this." I held up my left arm. "They wear nametags."

"Good enough." She leaned back. "I can already tell you that there's not a lot that we can do. Simple assault in this state is a Class C misdemeanor. That means they get a ticket. However, I want to push this on over to the District Attorney's office. Considering what you've gone through the past three years and specifically the last two days, there might be enough evidence of premeditation, meaning that they planned all of this in advance. In that case it pops up to a Class A misdemeanor or a Class C Felony. But that's not up to me. It's what the assistant D.A. will figure out."

I blanched at the ticket reference, but felt a little better when she upped the ante of charges that could be filed. The detective stopped for a second and checked her notes. "You said that the girl that started the incident yesterday… Danvers?"

I nodded. "Carolyn Danvers."

Her tongue worked the side of her lip as she typed a few things in her computer. "Well well well. I think we might have ourselves a conspiracy. It turns out that Carolyn is the daughter of the School District Superintendent."

I blinked at the detective. "What's that mean?"

She pursed her lips for a moment before explaining. "It didn't make any sense why Parsons would act so brashly. He had to know that he wasn't going to get away with doing this. But lets say hypothetically that after your first day coming to school presenting as a girl, he got a bug up his… uh. He got an idea. Maybe he talked to the Superintendent and got the okay to push it this far as long as there weren't any witnesses. They, again hypothetically, got Danvers here to start something in class so Parsons would have a 'reason' to kick you out."

My mouth opened. "Just because I'm dressed like this?"

The detective sighed. "Honey, I've seen people do stupid stuff over a lot less, believe me. This isn't beyond the realm of possibility in the least."

Mama leaned into the desk. "When will we learn whether or not the District Attorney will do anything?"

She shrugged. "I'm sorry, but there will be a line and this isn't going to be a top priority. There are a lot more serious crimes that will be ahead of you. It may take weeks or even maybe months."

My heart sank again.

"I'm sorry. If it were sensationalized that would be one thing, but…"

"Pardon?" I asked.

"T.V., protesters, ACLU, Al Sharpton, Grant Strongholme. You've seen them on the news. If they were involved then pressure would be brought on the D.A.'s office to resolve the matter. The mayor doesn't like bad publicity. What?"

I was grinning at that. "I think it will be on the news tonight. My boyfriend bugged me with one of those fake jewelry cameras without me knowing. He's got it all on tape."

The detective's chair squeaked loudly as she sat up. "Where is it?"

I shrugged. "I guess with the T.V. station. Grant Strongholme's office called me yesterday about wanting to do a story about how I've been treated. It was probably them that gave Max the camera."

I was sitting on the sofa, still in my gray outfit. It was probably the longest I'd worn something since Mama bought it all for me. She called Max and asked him to come over. I just sat and stewed. I didn't need my mother fixing everything between Max and me. I'd broken up with him for a reason. I was sick and tired of all his stupid secrets and he knew how much this morning bugged me before we left for school.

Leaving me by myself to be manhandled by those thugs was the breaking point. So, as far as I was concerned it was over. The thing was, I was so sure that he was the one. I mean everything was perfect, then he had to go and ruin it. I was wrong about him being the other half of my soul. Now I knew I couldn't even trust my own judgment when it comes to love.

Mama ignored me and the hurt looks I was giving her for inviting my ex-boyfriend over. She just let me stew.

When the bell rang I wormed my way deeper into the sofa and crossed my arms, defiantly.

"Hello Max."

"Hi, Mrs. Petrovitch. Thank you for calling me."

I refused to look at him, mainly for fear that I would forgive him and go rushing back into his strong arms so he could make everything better like he always did. They way lay surrender, and for once I was going to stand my ground and not give way.

"Sit, talk to her. Make things right between your two." Then to me Mama turned. "Sasha, I forbid you from leaving this room. You will talk to man you love and remember what I told you last evening."

My lips thinned and I felt my teeth gnash. Instead of saying something to Mama that I would regret later, I kept quiet.

Annoyingly. Max sat directly across from me in Papa's armchair. It made me have to turn to the right so I could face the kitchen. I also had to cross my legs in the opposite direction because of the angle. This annoyed me further because my band-aid slipped and now the wound was open and raw. The stinging reminded me of the first time Parsons sent me home and I had to walk. Which in turn reminded me about the second time and Max's abandonment of me. Which brought me back full circle about why I was so enraged to begin with.

"Sasha, I can't say how much I regret what I did. You were right. I should have told you what was happening."

I blew a small snort of air out of my nose. 'Now he realizes it,' I thought.

"I just listened to what the guy was saying and I should have known he was going for ratings instead of doing what was right."

A white burst blew in my head, and I almost screamed at him. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Max. You and your damn secrets…"

"Sasha!" Mama called from the kitchen. "You will lower your voice and keep a civil tongue in your head. Ladies do not speak that way."

Heat flushed my face and I lowered my voice to a harsh whisper. "You and your… darn secrets. You've kept so many that I never have a clue about half of the things you say anymore. It's always, 'trust me Sasha', well no, I no longer trust you. I can't be with someone that isn't honest and open with me."

With that I tightened my crossed arms and turned back to the kitchen.

Max's sniffed and his voice broke. "I deserved that. You're right. I've been keeping too many secrets." I heard her swallow and her breath slow. "What can I do to make this right?"

I sighed. "There's nothing to make right. We're no longer together. You can go find another… boy to make things right with and keep secrets from."

"I don't want anyone else."

I don't know where it came from, honestly. Somewhere in the deep recesses of the human id is a well of nastiness that occasionally spews out hateful things just to hurt the ones you love. "Well then I'd suggest getting used to a very lonely and unfulfilled life because you've lost this crossdresser, go find another." It was said with as much venom as I could muster and I regretted it the moment it left my mouth.

I heard a gasp from the direction of the kitchen. "Sasha Petrovitch."

I looked at her and then at Max. Tears were running down his face and all I saw was the girl underneath the masculine façade she showed. A moment of regret showed on my face, but then it hardened again.

Mama was livid. "In eighteen years I have never, not once, been ashamed of you. That is until this moment. The Sasha that I know is forgiving and loving. I beginning to wonder who this person is that has taken over my son's body."

My eyes burned again. I wanted to lash out, to throw something, but I just stayed still.

"Go to your room and do not come out until I call for you. I cannot look at your face right now."

My lower lip trembled. I looked at Max again. She had her face in her hands and lowered. Standing up as quick as I was able I took a step and yelled out as the high heel dug into my ankle. I reached down to take it off and I saw blood trailing over the side. With a whimper I quickly slid it off and dropped it, and then the other. I ran to my room.

Slamming the door I screamed in frustration. At the desk I sat and drew some tissues to cover the wound. There on top of my laptop lay the papers I was using to practice my calligraphy.

Sasha Petrovitch
Mrs. Sasha Petrovitch
Mrs. Sasha Slade
Ms. Sasha Slade
Mr. & Mrs. Max Slade.

Over and over again, variations on a theme. I wanted to rip them to shreds. I wanted to expunge that hour of my life when the only thought that would keep me sane after the morning I had experienced was the idea that one day Max and I would be married. It was a silly schoolgirl fantasy, but it was mine, the one that kept me from breaking down and crying. She… he… both of Max was supposed to be mine and I was supposed to be his. Now it was all in ruins and I just got through making everything so much more worse.

There was no chance he would ever forgive me for what I'd said and since I couldn't forgive him his abandonment of me then it was all a tangled mess.

Now I couldn't go back to school, I lost my boyfriend and girlfriend, I made Mama ashamed of me, and my ankle really hurt. I couldn't imagine what Papa was going to say. He'll side with Mama and be ashamed of me too.

My door opened. Mama strode in full of disappointment on her face, carrying a bottle of alcohol and a bowl. I cringed at what I knew she was going to do.

"Do not think that you will not get away from this evening without punishment. This is only the beginning."

"Mama…"

"Hush. Only hateful things are coming from your mouth and I will hear no more. You have had your chance. Now I will have my say."

She knelt to the floor beside me and moved my hand away from my ankle. I tried to keep it there, but she smacked the back with her fingers. "Move your hand."

I flinched at the tone in her voice. Bandages were in the bowl, which she removed and set on the desk.

"There is a distraught girl in the living room right now that thinks the world of you and only wants what is best. She is wrong for keeping so many things from you, but that is your fault as well. Have you by chance informed her that this bothers you so much?"

I started to answer, but was shushed again. "I talk, you listen."

She unscrewed the bottle of alcohol and held my leg with my ankle and foot over the bowl before she poured a liberal amount of what felt like acid over the wound. Mama loves her alcohol. To her, it cures almost every ill.

I hissed and then cried silently at the pain.

"Your father agreed that this was the best thing to do, keeping you in the dark as to your role this morning. Will you denounce him as well and force him to hear your venom?"

The thought of yelling at Papa made me shake my head ever so slightly.

"After your father told me of the plan, I had my doubts, but I agreed not to say anything. Will you now subject me to your hatred?"

My head dropped at the thought of shaming myself in that way, but I shook in response. Mama took some of the gauze and dried the area before setting a larger bandage over the now oozing wound and taping it in place.

"Now we come to my point, Sasha. If you would not denounce your father and I, why would you tear out your own heart and throw it away?" She looked up at me. The anger had bled out of her voice and only severe disappointment remained. "I saw your face last night when you came inside. I know that look well, because I see it every night before I lay down with your father."

She capped off the bottle and threw the wet bandages in the trash by the desk. After standing she sighed and looked away from me.

"Your father and I argue, child. However we love each other and strive to find middle ground. If we cannot then one of us eventually gives in because our love for one another is more important than anything else. These fairytale thoughts of yours where Max plays the handsome prince coming to save you are just that, fairytales. Reality is much more difficult. You have to make sacrifices in order to come out better in the end."

I looked up and wiped away some of the tears on my face.

"Our biggest argument was when you were young and your father insisted we immigrate to America. I didn't want to leave my family behind, but in the end I relented. Here, you have grown up in a relatively safe society, and we are much better off financially that we were in Serbia, and I can send money back home to my family so that I know they are living well. I do not regret the move here, child. But I do regret arguing with your father and what I put him through before and after we moved here. I hurt him and I have spent every day since making it up."

She motioned toward the desk and I saw she was looking at my calligraphy. "You love him, Sasha. Do not make a decision now that will destroy that. Let him tell his story and give him another chance to be the man that he knows you want him to be."

I looked down at my fingers in my lap. The heat in my stomach had gone, and now I just felt sadness and regret for my actions.

"Think about it, child. Now I must go talk to Max. Stay here until I call on you."

I nodded.

Thirty minutes passed and I was waiting for my chance to apologize and make amends. I changed my outfit, setting the suit aside for dry cleaning. I only wore a simple mid-thigh linen skirt and a green camisole. My feet were bare and were staying that way for the near future. I check to see if Mama had given me any mules or flip-flops but was out of luck. It seemed my luck had run out the day I met Max. All my karma points were used to bring her into my life on that day. At this point I was seriously in negative numbers. However, I would change that. I resolved to listen attentively and try my best to understand why Max made the decisions she'd made. I would try my best to accept that and make suggestions as to how to move forward instead of yelling and being mean.

I would…

"Sasha." I was so into my own thoughts that I didn't hear the door open.

I stood and looked hopefully at her. "I'm sorry, Mama."

She sighed and a somewhat peaceful look dropped over her face. "Accepted. Now I believe that you have someone else to talk to."

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Restore my faith in you, child."

I ducked my head and slipped past her, down the hallway, and into the living room. I hadn't realized I was running before I came to a stop when I saw Max standing beside the chair she was sitting in earlier.

Her hair was loose from the ponytail and was hanging on either shoulder. Despite all of the drama, she still looked beautiful and handsome all at the same time. Her eyes dropped to my breasts. I looked down and I was clutching her ring. I hadn't remembered holding onto in the first place and I was suddenly overwhelmed with how glad I was that I hadn't thrown it at her when I returned her gifts.

Slowly, I entered the living room and step by step closed in on her. She shifted a little, unsure of what I was going to do. This girl, who had saved me time and again from people much stronger than me was afraid of what I was going to do or say. My heart broke again, but in sadness at what I'd brought out of myself. Just when I'd thought I'd cried all of my tears, I felt my eyes burn again.

A foot away from her I looked up into her eyes and saw the slightest ray of hope shine in them. "We have some things to talk about," I whispered softly.

She nodded. "Okay."

"I have something to say first."

She swallowed. "Alright."

"I love you."

Fresh tears fell down her cheeks. "I love you too."

"Good. Then everything else is unimportant right now."

The look on her face told me that she was wondering if this was real.

I painted on a Mona Lisa smile and whispered, "This is the part where we hug and kiss."

I can't tell you how much I regretted my previous actions once I was in her arms. Everything felt right again and the whole day just felt like a horrible nightmare that happened to someone else. By the time Max had pressed her lips against mine, our anger, sorrow, forgiveness, and love turned to passion. However we were still in the living room of my parents. Papa was due home any second and it wouldn't do to have him seeing me crawling all over Max.

After feeling the male part of my body pressing against the tops of Max's thighs, I eased up and we separated.

"Sorry."

Max looked down and saw my skirt tenting. I really have to get that tucking thing worked out.

"Don't be. I feel the same way."

We sat on the sofa, Max half turned and leaning back while I was securely snuggled up under her chin with a pillow clutched over my midsection, the lower half of which was helping to cover my body's less than female response.

"I'm so sorry for not thinking about your feelings, Sasha. I promise I won't let it happen again."

"I know you won't. I promise to not overreact and become a hateful drama monster if it accidentally does."

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes while Max stroked my hair and I gripped her waist, hoping that nothing would pull us apart again. My hopes were dashed when Papa came strolling through the door and gave us a disapproving eye.

"Sorry Papa, it's my fault." I sat up and interlaced my fingers with Max's so we looked more chaste. I really didn't understand the whole not being affectionate in front of the parents thing. We were both adults, mostly. Eventually we would find time and space to make out or even have sex. I knew it, Max knew it, and my parents knew it.

Perhaps it has something to do with the way they see us. I mean I am pretty grossed out when they are all lovey-dovey, maybe it's the same with them. Maybe it's just creepy looking to see your daughter and her girlfriend overly affectionate.

I smiled, sort of, at my thoughts. I'd just realized that was the first time I'd actually thought of myself as female. Then I frowned. It was also when I realized that I had been referring to Max in female terms as well, for a while now. The gender lines had blurred so much between us that I was confusing myself.

Papa disappeared into the hallway so he could go to the bedroom and change out of his suit. I swear I thought I heard him mumble something about hormonal kids, but maybe I was wrong.

"Max?"

She shifted a little so she could see me better and started to run her thumb over the back of my hand. "Yeah baby?"

"Do you mind if I think of you as a girl?"

Her chest moved when she smiled, like she was trying to contain a chuckle. "Think of me any way you want, just as long as you think of me as yours."

I lay my head on her shoulder with a sigh. "How do you think of yourself?"

She shrugged a little. "A girl. I like being strong like a guy and being treated like a guy. I also really like having you as a girlfriend, but knowing that you're a boy too." She paused. "How do you think of yourself?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I just now thought of myself as a daughter and girlfriend, but I thought of you as my girlfriend too. Does that mean that I want to be a girl?"

Max's free hand covered mine making a sandwich our hands. "Do you?"

"I don't think so."

"I guess that answers your question."

Another couple of minutes passed and Papa came back in and crossed to the kitchen. He eyed us and I waved my fingers.

Squeezing Max's hand, I looked over at her. "So… secrets?"

She looked uncomfortable. "It's a long conversation. We really don't have much time tonight."

Okay, that was fair. "Give me a couple of highlights."

She breathed out, kind of steeling herself. "My dad is Maxwell Slade."

The name meant absolutely nothing to me. "Okay."

"Slade Investments?" she said like it would spark some memory of mine. When I still gave her a clueless face, she offered more. "It's one of the biggest investment firms in the world."

I thought about that for a moment. "Was that the logo I recognized behind the reception desk at that salon?"

She nodded. "Dad owns that building."

"The whole building?"

She nodded again.

"So your family is rich."

She snorted. "Uh yeah."

"And this is a big deal, why?"

Max sighed at my reaction. "Most of the people that I get involved with, once their families find out who I am…"

I laughed in disbelief. "You think I want your money?"

"No, I know you don't. Everything I try to give you, you try to give right back."

I kind of understood. "I get it. Really. You didn't know me or my family that well and you were just being cautious, so you don't get used."

Max was embarrassed. "Pretty much."

"So you really do know people that know people."

She nodded. "Well, through Dad mostly. He knows everyone. Presidents, CEO's of major corporations, he's got Bill Gates on speed dial in case he has computer problems, congressmen, senators, everyone."

"Wow."

Max gave me a moment to let that sink in.

"So, why are you in public school?"

She shrugged. "I don't really like private school, and I was raised with tutors. When I started high school I wanted to be with regular kids my own age, that weren't… you know."

"Snooty?"

"Yeah."

I nodded. "So buying me that pen, the clothes, it really wasn't anything for you."

"Not really. My allowance is considerable. I never come close to the monthly cap."

Something didn't seem to be right about everything she just told me. "If you are so scared of people taking advantage of how much money you have then why were you showing it off to me?"

Max drew in a sharp breath in humor. "I wasn't showing off, really. If I wanted to show off, I would have been driving you around in Dad's Viper, or the Ferrari. If I want to show off I could have bought you one of your own."

I frowned. "I don't think I'd like that."

"I know. That's the reason I got you the pen. It's useful and thoughtful and it's the best. You deserve the best."

Laying my head on her shoulder, I stared down at her grip on my hand. "I don't want the best. I want you." Realizing what I just said I quickly sat up, horrified I'd just screwed up again, but Max started laughing.

"Thanks. I needed that."

Max left me with a little to think about. I did some research on Maxwell Slade and Slade Investments. She really didn't do her father justice. He had offices around the world and advised the point-oh-one percent of the richest people on Earth how to invest their money. The latest economic debacle started by the last president and congress and screwed to hell and back by the latest, didn't phase the customers of Slade Investments in the slightest.

Now I saw why companies catered to him, gifting him with expensive toys and products like the makeup kit that Max had given me, which by the way was now back in my room, along with the stuff that I regrettably tossed at my ex-ex-girlfriend. I tried to tell her that I didn't deserve it to be given back, but she insisted and wouldn't take no for an answer. As far as she was concerned, the fact that I gave everything back was more than reason enough to return it to me.

I'm still confused about that logic.

Feeling confident enough with my practicing I started my journal, updating everything that had happened to me over the last three days. Let's just say that my hand hurts for writing so unnaturally. It's not the prettiest handwriting in the world but I could see improvement page after page.

Tomorrow would mark the end of the first week of school. Max and I decided to take the day off. The story that Grant Strongholme's researcher called about didn't run that evening and I seriously had doubts about whether or not the ACLU had been contacted. Regardless, I'd had two overly emotional days and I wasn't going to put up with any more abuse at the hands of Der Fá¼hrer and his Gestapo, otherwise known as Parsons and his guards.

Instead, Max had promised to spend the day with me doing whatever I wanted. Considering I'd worn almost everything in my closet that wasn't considered casual clothes, I wanted to do a little shopping. Wearing nice outfits for the last two days was kind of addicting. Going back to jeans and a poet's blouse was making me feel less feminine. As scary as it is, I had grown to like the dress and skirt. I liked the way my legs felt when I wore them.

It made me laugh when I thought about how I'd snapped at Max in the mall parking lot about wearing skirts and heels. Now, here I was wanting more, wanting to be even more feminine. I didn't just want an organizer bag, I wanted a purse. I wanted to have my ears pierced and wear dangly earrings. I wanted to have my nails extended. I wanted to wear sexy underwear and go to Victoria's Secret so I could find silky night clothes. I'd finally found my own personal heroin and it was called femininity.

Of course, I'd never be able to afford all of this, even with my nest egg. I could buy tons of casual clothes, but I wanted very nice dresses and suits. Regretfully they cost real money and I didn't want to blow my entire savings on clothes.

I'd have to work at it, just like every other girl in America, building up a wardrobe over time, buying things that would stand the test of time and weren't going to be out of style the week after it entered my closet.

Armed in comfortable clothes and my goddess sandals, so my ankle wouldn't suffer anymore torture, I ran out to meet Max in the driveway.

I kissed her hello and gave her a chance to bow out. "Are you sure you want to come shopping? You could just drop me off at the mall if there's something you'd rather…"

"Shh… I like shopping. Besides, you need to someone along to tell you how beautiful you look in all your new outfits."

I glowed at her praise. "Okay, but you have to promise me something."

"Okay, what?"

"I'm paying for my clothes, not you."

I could see she wanted to object, but she nodded in reluctance. "I promise. I have something for you to promise also."

It was only fair. "Okay."

"Dad has these… parties every month. They're not really parties as much as a social event where everyone gets together and kisses everyone elses butt. Clients attend and they all network or whatever they call 'scheming' these days. I always have to be there as heir apparent, so they can get used to me and don't bail on the company when Dad retires."

I blinked. "He's retiring?"

She shook her head and smiled. "Not anytime soon. And even when he retires in like ten or fifteen years, he'll still be Chairman of the Board, so it's not like he's leaving or anything. I'm digressing."

Max took a breath. "Since we're dating, he wants you there."

That took me unaware. "Uh…"

"Believe me, it's not something that I'm really happy about."

"Why now? I mean we just started dating. As far as he's concerned I could be a fling."

She shrugged, kind of embarrassed. "I told him about us."

"Well obviously. He sent that makeup kit."

"No, I mean…" she sighed, defeated. "I told him that you were the one."

Apparently my brain wasn't fully engaged. I'd only had my juice about fifteen minutes ago. Sometimes it takes a while for the sugar to kick in. "The one what?"

Her face was turning beet red and she couldn't meet my eyes. "Sasha…"

"No really, I'm not getting what you're saying. I'm the one what?"

"The one for me. I'm done looking for anyone else. You're it."

Ah, there's the sugar. The implications of what she'd just said were finally reaching the inner recesses of my brain. She wanted me to spend forever with her. "Oh."

My dream a couple of nights ago wasn't exactly a dream anymore, or at least it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. According to Max, sometime in the near future, she was going to ask me to marry her.

"Oh my God." I realized that I'd stopped breathing and finally my lungs protested with a sharp inhale, but my throat was tight as well. I waved my hands in front of my face in a feeble attempt to introduce oxygen into my chest. I wheezed.

"Sasha," asked a very concerned girlfriend. I looked at her and kept waving as my lungs slowly eased back to normal. "Are you okay?"

"I… I…, " I nodded. "You just…," wheeze, "took me by surprise."
Max smiled and relaxed. "I realized yesterday when you dumped me that I just threw away everything that was important to me. I couldn't stand the thought that you wouldn't be mine." She looked down at her hands in her lap. "I told my dad that I loved you and to stop trying to set me up with his friends sons."

"Wait, what?"

"He's been doing this. Every time a party comes around he sets me up on a blind date, or what he calls an 'escort' to the party. He didn't know we were serious. So I told him we were, or rather that I was, that I didn't want anyone but you."

When it was apparent that we'd reached a certain point in the conversation, Max started the car and pulled out onto the street.

I took a little time to compose myself. "Don't misunderstand me here. I'm really happy about what you told him, but…"

"What does this have to do with you shopping today?"

I nodded.

"You'll need some evening gowns, shoes, jewelry, the works. I know you have a limited budget to work with and I promised not to mess with you on that, but since Dad wants you there, I insisted he pay for the stuff you'll need."

"What'd he say."

Max winced slightly. "He raised the limit on my check card."

That didn't sound right. "I thought you said that you never reach your limit."

"I don't, but we're talking about starting from scratch. Twelve months means twelve parties, which means at least twelve outfits, I think you get the point."

I felt like I was joining the mob or something. "How much does something like this cost for one party?"

Max was paying attention to the road, but I could see that she didn't like talking about money in a sense like this. "Uh… you have to keep in mind that the people that come to these things are like uber rich. They don't shop at stores like we do."

"Tailors… you're talking about designer dresses that are meant to be worn once and then take up space in a closet until the end of time."

"Exactly."

"So we're talking about a serious amount of money," I concluded.

"Define serious."

I raised an eyebrow at that one. "What I would consider serious, not you."

"Oh, well, yeah. Pretty serious."

I shook my head. "I swear, it's like rich people live on a different planet."

"Will you let me buy the things you'll need?"

I frowned. "What if I just wore something simple. It doesn't have to be…"

"The others would eat you alive. It's like high school all over again."

I laughed wryly. "You make it sound like court intrigue at the royal palace."

Max paused in thought then nodded. "That's a very apt description. Think of my father as the King and me as the Crown Prince, or Princess, whichever."

"That would make me the commoner."

Max wasn't deterred. "Think of it more like Princess Diana."

"We are not amused."

Laughter filled the enclosed space of the Corolla. "Now you're getting into the spirit."

"Will it always be like this?" I asked seriously.

"I could give it all up, and Dad would let me. We could go live in the mountains and live off of the land, whatever we could hunt, some berries maybe. But to tell you the truth, I like the challenge."

"So I can look forward to this for some time. Picking china patterns, visiting the country club and stabbing my fellow rich wives in the back whenever I talk about them, having an affair with the pool boy, and generally being snooty?"

I really liked Max's laugh. It made me feel alive when I heard it. "Not exactly. You could do that if you want, but I think of you more like the rich wife that goes out of her way to help those that are in trouble, being an ambassador of good will, donating your time to worthy causes. Again I'm thinking Princess Diana-like."

"I could do that?"

She nodded. "Dad gives millions to charity each year. He's founded several foundations for education and research. In just about every Ivy League college there's a building with his name on it… and mine too for that matter."

There was one thing that Max hadn't mentioned. "What about my status?"

"What about it?"

"A crossdresser as part of the royal family? Won't the blue bloods revolt?"

She shrugged. "They'll probably be some talk behind our backs, but there's one thing that you haven't taken into account."

"What's that?"

"The one thing that the ultra rich love more than anything else, more than politics, or social status."

At my inquiring looked, she told me. "Money. As long as we are making them more money then they could care less if you were a drag queen in ten inch platform shoes and sequins. They won't dare treat you badly if it means losing the ability to make themselves their precious billions. And Dad can afford to tell them to take a hike. He can always find someone to take their place, then they have to take their chances with the Bernie Madoffs of the world."

I looked out of the window and watched the world pass by. "What do I need to do?"

"Not much, just more shopping is all. I'll call our tailors and set up a time so you can go get measured. We can buy some of the jewelry at Fred's and Jared's in the mall. Some shoes too. You need your ears pierced, definitely. That's about it."

"You make it sound too easy."

"Yeah," she agreed. "When you're rich, it is."

"Well, I'm not rich."

She grinned and shot me a happy glance. "You will be."

Max's comments about her intentions stayed with me throughout the shopping trip. My life, after the average day to day living of your average teenager, seemed to be moving at breakneck speed. While Max seemed to know exactly what she wanted for her own future, I was nearly blinded with the possibilities of my own.

We spent an hour and a half in the jewelry stores and after trying on virtually everything in the store, the sales lady had a mound of bracelets, necklaces, earrings, and rings sitting to the side and was very near salivating at her commission. I was almost scared to see the receipt that Max signed away at with barely a glance.

Shoes were next. That morning I'd replaced the wad of gauze on my ankle with one of those gigantic knuckle bandages that looked like a fat "H" to prevent any chance of it slipping and further injuring my ankle. That meant that I was able to try on about fifty pair of shoes at Nine West, Cole-Haan, and Johnson & Murphy. We'd left with about fifteen pairs of various heels, all horribly expensive.

When asked about why she purchased the extra pairs, it was explained that we didn't know exactly what the designers were going to come up with and the shoes that we bought were basically a ground floor beginners collection. Generic shoes that could go with a lot of different styles. If we needed something specific to go with a special dress then we'd deal with it when the time came.

I was somewhat suspicious of a few purchases that Max said I could use for daily wear or to social gatherings if said gatherings were casual. Then it all started to make sense. The parties weren't the only events I would be going to. I'd be, for lack of a more socially acceptable term, Max's arm candy. Once it was known who I was, there would be expectations to fulfill. Without realizing it, I had just fallen into the slippery slope of accepting any and everything Max wanted to buy for me. All she'd have to do was say it was for something that her Dad wanted her to do and poof free stuff.

I wanted to put a halt to it, but I also realized that Max had expectations and that I'd led her on by accepting everything with an eager nod. She'd all but proposed to me in the car sitting in my parents driveway and I went right along with it in shocked excitement.

Now she was treating it like the happy event was a foregone conclusion that was only missing a few undone items, namely the proposal, my acceptance, and eventual marriage.

Frankly it wouldn't surprise me if the 'designer' just so happen to design a wedding gown.

Now tell me that isn't breakneck speed. In the span of four days I'd went from pushing cloud shapes into recognizable forms to picking out drapes for our home. No, that's not breakneck, that's ludicrous speed.

Mall security escorted us out to Max's car and watched as we drove away with Max's check card leaving a smoking trail behind us.

"Proud of yourself?"

"Hmm?" asked Max with a completely innocent face.

"I asked if you were proud of yourself, but I'll elaborate."

Sensing another smack down, Max's shoulders dropped.

I just grinned. "Don't worry sweetheart. I'm not mad. I'm actually kind of proud of your ingenuity."

"What'd I do?"

"You just got me to accept everything you wanted to buy for me without actually taking credit yourself."

"I did?"

"Uh-huh. You knew I wouldn't take your money or gifts unless there was a darn good reason. So one happen to come up."

"Dad's really having those parties and everything I said is true." She defended herself nicely.

I nodded. "Oh, I trust you, honey. But you also snuck in a few things that I didn't necessarily need for those functions too, right?"

"But… once you start coming to these things, you'll wind up going to other events: socials, birthday parties, ribbon cuttings, everything."

I leaned over as far as my seatbelt would allow. "And how will I be introduced at these functions. What role will I be playing?"

"Uh…"

"Something to think about, Max. I'm not your fiancé quite yet. There's really no need for me to come to these things. You're grooming me to become the future Mrs. Slade, but you and I know that you have to go through my father before any of that happens."

I kissed her on the cheek and drew back in my seat, quite pleased with myself.

It was well past lunch when we returned home. Max helped me unload the packages and even went so far as to hang everything up and store away all of the shoeboxes. The jewelry stayed in the boxes they came in until I could afford to go out and purchase a decent place to store it.

Once we had the mess cleaned up, Max looked a little less green around the gills due to the thoughts of confronting my father. The whole 'meeting the father' drama was only a couple of days ago and Max had barely come away from that unscathed. I could only imagine how she was going to go about asking my father for my hand in marriage, so soon after asking permission to court me. Basically, the whole idea gave me a happy.

There's one good thing about having parents that work. They weren't at home when you wanted to make out with your girlfriend, in your room, on your bed.

My jeans were tight enough to where they'd be really hard to get off without my cooperation and my top was loose enough to allow ease of access if needed. So I was more than relaxed that my virtue would remain intact. While I was raised to believe that I should wait until I was married before having sex, I wasn't a prude. I was technically still a boy and my hormones were still in high gear when it came to sexual stimulation. In other words, the feeling that Max gave me while she was laying on top of me, kissing my lips, neck and jaw line, while she was gently massaging my breasts, well, lets just say that I was sorely tempted to chuck the whole chastity thing out the window.

Thank goodness for the phone call that brought us back from temptation.

I took a deep breath and calmed my voice before answering. "Hello."

"Sasha Petrovitch, I presume?"

"Uh, yes. May I ask who's calling?"

"Maxwell Slade. I believe you are familiar with my daughter, Maxine."

I looked over at Max on the bed, glowing with unspent desire. "Yes, sir."

"It seems my daughter has turned her cell off and I am trying to contact her to see if you two are available for a meeting this afternoon. Judging from the notification I received from the bank about an hour earlier, I also presume that you assented to Maxine's desires regarding her future social calendar."

A questioning glance from Max and I responded, mouthing, 'your dad!'

Her eyes widened and then closed as her head hit the pillow and a small groan was issued.

"Yes, sir. When would you like us to come by?"

"Say an hour? That should give me enough time to wrap up a few things and give Maxine enough time to brief you about how controlling and domineering I am." He said the last with a little humor in his voice.

"Uh, yes, sir. She knows where you are at?"

"The office. I believe you were able to take advantage of some of our amenities recently." Without waiting for me to confirm he closed the conversation. "I look forward to meeting the person that has so completely mesmerized my daughter. Goodbye, Sasha."

The phone clicked before I even had the chance to say goodbye. I scowled at the phone, and Max laughed a little. "Don't worry, he does that to me too."

"We have to be at his office in an hour." I looked down at myself. "Oh my God. I'm meeting your Dad and I don't have a thing to wear."

Max looked over at the closet. "We just got back from shopping. You have several things to wear." At my panicked look she hopped up from the bed. "Don't worry. Dad will love you just the same as me. Come here, I know just the thing to wear."

I wasn't even aware I was changing in front of Max until I'd dropped my jeans and stepped into the white high-waist mini bandage skirt, and saw her all but lick her lips. I blushed. "Sorry."

"Don't stop on my account."

With a teasing grin I whipped off the poet blouse and slipped on the twisted racerback top that I tucked in the skirt before sipping it closed.

Max frowned. "You were supposed to take off your bra first."

I grinned and reached behind me to undo straps. With the shirt being almost tank style, it wasn't any trouble to withdraw my bra from underneath. "Ta-da!"

"It's not the same." She handed me a belt that I looked at for a moment before turning it the proper way. It matched the cream color of the top and the thing had to be four inches in width. Wide belts were back in for high-waist articles. Another tuxedo jacket made its way into my wardrobe, but this one was short-sleeve, cropped short and had no buttons.

I left it off until I had redone my make up. My eyes were cream colored to offset the white of the jacket and skirt and to match my blouse. I also elected to go a shade lighter with my lips. When I was through, Max looked seriously impressed.

"You're so quick with that now."

"I practiced a lot."

She held out my jacket for me. "Thank you."

"Don't forget your heels."

I cringed, but then saw which pair Max had pulled out. It was reminiscent of the cage sandals that I wore the other day, but not quite as crazy with the directions the straps took. Zippered in the back and sitting high on my ankle, it didn't dig into the band-aid. With a sigh of relief I stood and almost fell over.

"Whoa, how high are these heels?"

She just grinned at me. "Four and a half inches. You'll be fine, just hang onto me."

"Ah, I see your evil plan now. You're making me totally reliant on your support." After a moment I grinned as well. "I like it. Plus I'm freaking tall for once." When Max closed in, I was still looking slightly up at her, but not nearly as much as normal.

"You're at perfect kissing height."

I sniffed haughtily. "Don't mess my lips up. I just did them."

She sighed in reservation. "You have enough makeup to give an army a makeover. Get over it." With that, she pressed her lips to mine and we enjoyed another short session where I was able to finally see the advantages of wearing high heels."

We were starting to run late, and I had to fix my lips in the car. When I was done, I dropped my gloss and hand mirror into the gigantic silver-studded slouchy hobo bag that Max insisted I bring. It matched the outfit, but I didn't really have much to carry around, so I stuck my journal inside along with the clutch and my pen pouch. If nothing else, I'd have something to do if I got bored.

Wanted to glare at Max for making me wear the silver cross at my neck and a diamond cluster ring on my right hand and mixed metal bangles on my left, but since I would be able to only wear studs in my ears, she said I needed some bling. The ring was exceptionally awesome, by the way. The only thing I was worried about was the thought of getting too used to wearing all of the expensive jewelry. Diamonds were a crossdresser's best friend after all.

I was fond of emeralds as well when seeing the look in Max's eyes after I held some dangly drops from my ears while we were at the jewelers. She said that they set my eyes off, being that they are green as well, and that seriously turned her on. That was enough reason for me.

After a while I rationalized the whole thing as making Max happy. If me getting all dressed up and sparkling made her happy then I'd let her do what she wanted.

The office building again loomed tall in the sky, ominously. This time I waited for Max to open my door as I wasn't going to chance faceplanting in the parking lot. The blacktop was hot and I was wearing white.

The clicking of my heels was even more obvious as we entered the building and crossed the marble floor. The security guards nodded at Max and I while we made our way to the private elevator. She selected the top floor this time and I held on to her bicep trying to control my nervousness. Not knowing what lay before me in terms of how Mr. Slade was going to treat me was somewhat daunting.

I could be treated like Max's girlfriend, in which case I'd be okay. However if Mr. Slade decided to treat me like his daughter's boyfriend then I was in for an experience somewhat like what Max had with Papa.

The elevator dropped us off into a rounded off entrance of sorts, enclosed with glass walls. Beyond them I saw a secretary's area to the left and the rest of the floor was Maxwell Slade's office. It was beyond overkill. Plasma screens were surrounding the entire floor with stock tickers for every conceivable market around the world, all the cable business channels, and several that were simply blank.

An area to the right held a universal weight machine and treadmill, there was an open bar halfway down and in the center on the far wall was most probably the biggest desk I'd ever seen.

"Dad doesn't get out much. He spends all of his waking hours here. So, of course, he has to have all the amenities of home."

"Uh-huh. And you want to inherit this?" I said with quite a bit of uncertainty.

"It has its perks."

"Maxine!"

Max cringed. "I really hate it when he calls me that."

My grip tightened on her bicep as she led me forward into the dragon's den. Max's father looked nothing like her. He was overly tall, enough so that I could really judge exactly how tall he was. Maybe the mid-six foot range. I wouldn't call him overly athletic either, but he was healthy enough. The salt and pepper in his hair was complete, making him look older than the age I found online of thirty-eight.

His smile was genuine enough as well as the raking of his eyes over me. I could see a slight amount of surprise in his eyes, but he masked over the reaction quickly.

Max leaned into a quick kiss on his cheek. "Dad, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Sasha Petrovitch. Sasha, my father Maxwell Slade."

Releasing Max long enough to shake her father's hand wasn't difficult. It was him holding on to it that was making me lose my balance. Max's hand found its way to my lower back and suddenly I was confident enough to teeter on virtual five inch heels. I know they weren't that tall, but I'm a round-up kind of girl.

"Maxine wasn't exaggerating when she told me how beautiful you were, Sasha." His words rang true which made the blush I was currently experiencing all that more intense.

"Thank you, sir."

He glanced at Max. "Sir? I like her already."

With the slightest bit of direction, Mr. Slade tucked my hand in at his elbow and he escorted me over to the left side of his office which was partially obscured by a pair of hands sitting in the middle of the floor. Well the hands were about seven feet tall and five wide. Modern art, what can you do?

What he revealed was a comfortable living area, sort of. Two couches faced each other and on each side four single chairs faced each other, all of this was squared around a really large glass coffee table. Informal meetings came to mind. Much like what we were doing there. When he led me to the couch facing the window, he allowed me to sit. "Would you like anything to drink: coffee, soda, water? We have everything."

"Water would be nice, thank you."

He looked up at Max and she didn't even bother to acknowledge anything, she just crossed the room to the bar. I crossed my legs and smoothed out the skirt that rode just a little too high for my comfort.

"Maxine told me how you two met, and I must say that I found it quite entertaining. There aren't a whole lot of people that can stump my little girl."

The thoughts of our first day at school and Max's cluelessness about my gender brought a smile to my face.

"She's told you all about me I assume?"

He nodded and leaned back, hooking an ankle up on his knee, very masculine like. "We don't keep any secrets from each other, Sasha. Truthfully, I can see how she would assume certain things."

Crossing my hands in my lap, I licked my lips. "It's okay, Mr. Slade. It's widely known that I am technically male. You can say it. I won't be offended."

A smirk came up on his face and I could tell he was trying to keep from laughing. That's when Max showed back up. "Here you go, baby."

"Straightforward and blunt, Maxine. Just like you said."

"Told you." She sat next to me and leaned in. "Dad thought that you'd be uncomfortable with him knowing that you're a boy."

He leaned forward and took the cup of coffee that Max brought him. "Especially when you introduced Sasha as your girlfriend. That threw me."

"I'm thinking of myself in that way now, sir."

"I see." He shrugged. "Whatever makes you and my daughter happy, I suppose." After taking a sip of his coffee he set it down and removed a keycard from his jacket pocket. "Maxine, that item that you asked for is in my secure desk drawer, along with a couple of things I thought you'd like Sasha to have."

Max's eyes lit up and she grabbed the card. I watched her make her way over to the desk with curiosity on my part.

"Nothing extravagant, Sasha. Maxine has already told me of your aversion to gifts. This is more of a convenience for my daughter's sake as well as my own. So if you'd accept, I would appreciate it greatly."

Mr. Slade's eyes were just like Max's. That's what she inherited from her father. Those intense blue eyes that could talk anyone into anything. Now I could see one of the reasons Slade Investments was so successful.

I smiled ruefully. "I'm finding it increasingly difficult to say no to your family, sir. Max always finds ways around every roadblock I erect."

He laughed out loud at that. It was genuine and heartfelt and reminded me of Max's laughter as well. "It's a family trait. We always get what we want, when we truly want it."

I crooked an eyebrow at him, wondering if I was the latest in acquisitions for the Slade family.

"Dad, quit sounding like this was all part of some master plan of yours." Max said from halfway across the room on her way back. She'd tucked something into her pocket and held a puffy manila envelope in the other.

"Ah, Maxine, my pride and joy, of course it was all part of a master plan. I purposely arranged for you to attend the high school you are at for the sole reason that you might meet someone that would intrigue you. Thought I do admit I didn't think it would happen this quickly." He shrugged. "But, life is like that sometimes. Opportunities present themselves and you just have to take the reigns."

Once Max returned she handed me the puffy envelope. I gave her a questioning glance and she shrugged. "I don't have a clue. This one's all on him."

He made a gesture at the envelope and I went ahead and bent the little metal bindings back to unseal the top. Normally I would have just upended it, but since I was wearing white that probably wouldn't be a good idea. Instead, I reached inside. My hand closed around something and I withdrew it to find a cell phone identical to Max's and behind it a key card like the one she uses to access the elevator in the building we were in.

"Max told me you didn't have a phone." I was about to protest the extravagance of the cell. It wasn't like a 'grab and go'. It was state-of-the-art. However, Mr. Slade cut me off before I could say anything. "You're part of the family, for the most part, Sasha. Unofficially at the moment, but still. I must insist that you have this safety measure. It's not a gift, per se, but a way to let Maxine and I know that you can contact us no matter where you may be, just in case."

See what I mean about working around roadblocks?

"Like it our not, I am a very influential person, and have acquired many enemies in the past that would like nothing better than to see me fail. Nothing sordid, but business is business."

I was confused. If there was nothing sordid then by definition I wouldn't be in any kind of danger.

"Not sold yet, I take it. Then let me give you an example. Let's say for instance that you are alone at the mall, shopping, and you are approached by a major news organization, like Fox Business Network. What would you do?"

I blinked. "Pardon?"

Max set a hand on my thigh. "It happened to me when I was living with my mom. It wasn't Fox. It was some stupid tabloid reporter that wanted to know my reaction about Dad's affair with a Maxim cover girl."

"You're kidding."

She shook her head. "Turns out that it was 'leaked' by one of Dad's competitor's in a stupid attempt to make him look bad. This was when my parents were starting divorce proceedings."

Mr. Slade took over the tale. "Maxine kept her wits about her and called me. I told her it was bull and arranged for security to escort the 'newsman' off the premises."

I frowned yet again. "Okay. I'll keep the phone." Yet another roadblock busted. "The keycard, I get. Thank you."

He nodded. "The salon you used the other day is available to you anytime. Maxine and I use it regularly as well as most of my executives. It's just a perk and it gives the girls downstairs something to do. So if you don't use it then they stand around bored all day…"

"Fine." I shook my head and giggled. "I have to leave. Pretty soon you'll have me taking trips around the world in a private jet for my own good."

Mr. Slade held up his hands. "I promise, just one more thing and I'll leave you alone."

I lifted my brow. The envelope was empty, or I thought it was. Looking inside I saw a key at the bottom. This time I did upend it. It was a car key with the Mercedes logo stamped on the fob. I looked at it wistfully for a second and then dropped it back inside. "Thank you, but no."

I set the envelope on the table and grabbed the water Max had gotten me for a nice long swig. That had been a really hard decision. Before meeting my girlfriend, I'd seriously wanted my freedom, and that was acquired by the purchase of a car. Spending the majority of my nest egg to buy new clothes pretty much killed that dream for the near and not so near future. Now it was dangled in front of me. A freaking Mercedes. My chest hurt when I put that key back inside the envelope.

Mr. Slade's eyes dropped and his face lost the humorous smile he'd been holding. I had a feeling that not a lot of people told him no and got away with it.

This time I cut him off, which come to think of it, that probably didn't happen to him much either. "If there is anyplace important to be then I'll be with Max, and she has a perfectly good car. Otherwise I'll be at home."

"How about if she's sick?"

"Then my mom can drop me off so I can take care of her. I've also been walking to school for years so that's not an excuse either."

Not to be refused quite yet, he kept throwing scenarios at me which I shot down one after the other.

"I'm sorry, sir. I really appreciate you thinking enough of me solely on Max's word about my character, but I can't accept a car. This is one roadblock that you can't break."

"Told you," said Max.

"Sasha?"

I looked at those blue eyes of Maxwell Slade. That was my first mistake.

"Mercedes-Benz SL63 AMG in Storm Red with Black leather interior. 518 horsepower, goes from zero to sixty in four point five seconds. Retractable hardtop with all the bells and whistles." His eyes bored into me. "Key is in that envelope. Car is downstairs."

Oh shit. "Max we've got to go, now." I stood on shaky knees. "It was nice to meet you, sir. We'll have to come back when my willpower is stronger. Which probably won't be anytime soon."

Max glared at her father. "See you later, Dad."

Mr. Slade stood like nothing had happen. "It was nice to meet you, Sasha. Come back anytime."

When we were safely secure in the elevator and dropping at a fast rate I decided to start breathing again. "I feel like I was just tempted by Satan. All I had to do was sign over my soul and everything would have been just hunky-dory.

"Dad has that affect on people. I told him you wouldn't take it no matter what he said."

Max's phone took that moment to ring. I nearly jumped out of the roof of the elevator.

"Hello."

"…"

"Very funny, Dad. See you for dinner. Bye."

"He's got the quill ready for me to sign in blood on the dotted line?"

"Pretty much. He says that he really likes you and wants me to propose as soon as possible."

"Oh, okay."

Max laughed beside me.

My heart sped up as we left the parking lot and I saw the Mercedes in one of the front spots. By the time Max had driven me home I think my blood pressure had returned to normal. It was gorgeous. We sat in the driveway and I knew Max had to go to avoid the worst of the rush hour traffic.

We'd kissed for a few minutes and then right when I was about to open my door she reached her hand out. "Hold on a second."

I turned back to her and saw that she had a serious look on her face. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I wanted…" She looked like she had something to say, but hadn't decided what words to use. Finally she gave up in frustration. "Look, I'm not really good with romantic words."

She reached into her pocket and then paused for a second. "This isn't what you'll think it is, so don't freak out okay?"

I nodded and watched as she withdrew a small ring box. Okay, I was seriously glad she warned me. I would have really freaked out otherwise.

"There's kind of a tradition in our family that goes back four generations so far. This'll make five. When the… well usually the first born male of the family, in my case me because I don't have any brothers on Dad's side of the family… I'm screwing this up. My brother is on my Mom's side when she remarried he had a son…"

I nodded, understanding. "I get it. Just breath, Max. Everything is okay."

She smiled. "Thanks." She did so. "Anyway. I'm representing my family in this generation." Holding her hand out, she opened the case and inside sat a beautiful three diamond ring set in platinum. The diamonds weren't gigantic, but they weren't small either. "My great-great-great-great grandfather gave this ring to the lady he was courting at the time who would later become my many times great grandmother.

"He couldn't really afford to get married at the time and set off to make his fortune so that he could support her properly. This was the sum total of his life's savings and his commitment to return and one day present her with a proper engagement ring. It took him two hundred and fifty days to do this."

I grinned. "That's so sweet. He must have loved her a lot."

Max swallowed and after staring at the ring this entire time finally looked up at me. "The tradition is that from the day I give this to you, in two hundred and fifty days, if I haven't driven you away or driven you insane, I promise to present you with an engagement ring of your own. It's a promise ring, Sasha. Will you accept it?"

"Sasha, please set the table. Your father will be here soon."

I was still blown away by the pre-proposal, or promise, or whatever you wanted to call it. It's one thing to see the handwriting on the wall. Max had all but told me that she wanted us to be married sometime in the future and I'd all but agreed, however to have her come out and cement that thought with something tangible.

"Sasha!"

I looked up from the couch. "Yes, Mama?"

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Are you well?"

I nodded.

She gave me a weird look. "Then set the table, child, your father will be home soon."

"Yes, Mama."

She stared at me all the way into the kitchen, watching me as I withdrew the proper amount of plates and silverware and set them on the table, dispersing everything to its assigned place.

"What's different about you today?"

"Hmm?"

"Did something happen today? I thought you took the day off from school to avoid that Nazi assistant principal of yours."

"Oh, uh… Max and I went shopping. Do you like my new outfit?"

She looked and brushed it aside. "Yes, it's very nice. However that is not what I am seeing. Did Max buy you things today?"

My brain decided to focus at that point. "Um, yeah, but it was for something her father has going on. He wanted me to accompany Max to one of his business dinners and its for, like, the super rich. Max didn't want me to feel out of place so he got me a few things so I'd fit in better." At her look I cut her off before she started in on me. "It's not something I can use everyday, Mama. Don't worry. I'm not taking gifts… well I am, but not like you think.

She frowned. "Explain yourself. You're not making any sense."

I sighed. "Can we wait until Papa is here so I don't have to repeat myself. It's kind of a long story."

The front door opened and I nearly sighed again. So much for putting off that conversation.

Mama went to give him a hug and kiss. "Hurry and change. Our daughter has explanations for us tonight."

Papa eyed me. I grinned, or at least I tried to. It didn't really come across very well. He shook his head and made out for the bedroom.

"Open the wine, Sasha." I followed Mama's orders and went to the wine closet. We didn't have a cellar. We didn't drink that much wine, but that which we have is fairly good.

"What are we having tonight, Mama?"

"Musaka."

Ugh. Musaka is a Serbian dish… well, it's all over the Mediterranean area too, it's served widely in Serbia. It's Papa's favorite. It's kind of a pie with minced meat, eggplant, zucchini, potatoes, carrots, and whatever else happens to be laying around at the time. It's nasty.

I picked the appropriate red, because you really needed something pungent to get rid of the taste and take away the smell from your breath after eating it. Musaka nights were pretty much the times that I go back for thirds on wine. I'm not an alcoholic, really.

A very sharp and loud intake of breath followed by the crash of glass made me look up at Mama. I was in the midst of screwing the corkscrew into the neck and noticed what she was staring at. Oops.

Her hand was covering her mouth and I swear her eyes were about to drop out of her head, they were so wide.

"Mama, no. It's not what you think."

Her voice came in a heated rush. "Exactly what am I supposed to think? Did you…"

"No. It didn't fit anywhere else."

Her eyes bored into me searching for any sign of deception. "That," she point at the ring finger on my left hand. "Will be the first explanation you present tonight."

She stepped over the broken glass. "Now, give me that and hide that hand until you explain. I do not want to have to deal with your father on this issue. He will castrate…well, I suppose he'd have to do something else to Max, and it would not be pleasant."

Point taken. "Get the dust pan and sweep up the glass."

Have you ever seen someone in four and a half inch heels try to squat down to sweep up a mess. I looked ridiculous and almost fell three times, over balancing.

"Is everyone alright, I heard glass breaking," said Papa when he went to find his seat at the table.

"I broke a wineglass, Papa."

He nodded. "Well, be careful Sasha. Don't cut yourself."

"Yes, sir."

Mama poured him a glass of red while I finished ridding the dustpan of its contents and washed my hands.

"Now, what's this about explanations?"

I made sure to keep my hand out of his line of sight while I sat. Mama looked at me very expectantly. "I want to show you something, but first…" I sighed. "Max promised to be faithful to me today."

That kind of took Papa off guard. He looked at me weird. "Was that in question? I can never tell with today's generation. Is it common to not be faithful."

"Shush," Mama snapped.

He looked at her and saw how serious she was, then he turned to me.

I gave him a weak grin. "I mean that she made our relationship more… um, formal."

Now he was interested and I was unsure if it was in a bad way or not.

"We made promises to each other not to… um, look around for anyone else, until sometime next year, May, when he plans on asking your permission to marry me."

Mama palmed her face. Papa gripped his fork and knife. I think I may have said that wrong.

"You're engaged!" roared Papa.

"No! No!" I countered. "It's a promise to one day ask to be engaged. "It's just a promise."

He looked at me and then looked down. "Where's your hand? Let me see it."

"Papa, Max gave me a promise ring. That's all it is. It's tradition in her family to do that before asking…"

"Your hand, Sasha." He was very insistent.

I cringed and brought my hand out of hiding, holding it up for him to see the ring Max gave me. He studied it for a moment and then set his silverware down to reach for the Musaka. "It's a very nice ring, Sasha. Though I would prefer it were on another finger."

"What?" Mama almost yelling incredulously. "That's an engagement ring."

He glanced at her and then back at me. "Will you have it resized?"

I shook my head. "It's a family heirloom going back four generations. I can't."

Papa nodded. "Very well."

Mama looked back and forth between us several times. "You're going to let her wear that?"

"Of course. I approved of Max and he is being very traditional in his values. I would have given you a promise ring myself, but I was in too much of a hurry to make you mine, Dusho moja."

Mama melted a little at that.

"All this says is that Max is very serious about our daughter."

We made it halfway through dinner while everyone pondered the idea of me being married off sooner than we'd thought.

"Sasha," Mama said. "You mentioned that Max bought you some things, but that ring, if that ring is an heirloom…"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I got distracted." I dabbed at my lips with my napkin. "Max's father has these client parties, networking things really, but families come. Since Max and I look like we're going to…" I let the engagement and impending marriage thing hang in the air, unsaid. "Well, I'm supposed to accompany him and be introduced around. Max says that she's supposed to take over the company when her father retires and she's supposed to basically step into his shoes…"

Papa nodded. "You are the next generation and he is solidifying his company's future for you and Max. He sounds like an intelligent man. What sort of industry is he in?"

I was kind of surprised that Papa didn't already know. "Um, financial investments."

He looked impressed. "Really. In this market? CEO's are looked upon worse than lawyers these days. Have I heard of his company?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Slade Investments?"

Thank goodness Papa swallowed or he would have choked. Instead he wheezed and grabbed at his wine glass, emptying it quickly before refilling it and sipping once more.

"You know of this company," asked Mama.

He nodded. "I didn't connect the names. Max's father is Maxwell Slade?"

I nodded and Papa looked like Christmas had come early. "You have my permission to marry Max."

"What?"

"Papa!"

He looked at Mama. "Sasha will never want for anything ever again. She will be well taken care of. Maxwell Slade is one of the richest men in the world, Dusho moja."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not after Max's money, Papa."

"Of course, Sasha. I didn't say you were, but you can't fault me for wanting the best for you and Max can most certainly provide it."

I just put my hands in my lap and sighed.

He stopped for a moment. "I noticed you are calling Max, 'she', now. Did something change again?"

"Papa, Max doesn't care which pronoun you use."

"I'm asking if you are going to take his name or if he's going to take yours."

Now I was getting frustrated. "Papa, Max hasn't proposed! And I wouldn't accept right now if she did. It's too early."

Mama nodded. "You're right, Sasha. Your father is teasing you."

"No I'm not."

"Hush, Dusho moja. We've been sidetracked. Sasha was explaining about her newest gifts."

I pursed my lips and kept staring at Papa. "An evening gown, shoes, and accessories. Things for social events." My tone dropped in annoyance.

"Excellent idea. You need to be taken seriously," observed Papa. "You can't do that with the clothes you kids wear today."

I looked down at the skirt suit I was wearing. Mama patted my hand. "You look fine, darling. Very posh."

"Thank you, Mama. At least somebody noticed."

I took another drink of wine, emptying my glass, before I stood. "I'm full." I wasn't really, but the topic of conversation had killed my appetite.

"More for me," said Papa merrily going back for seconds.

I'd changed into a new sleep set in a silky deep scarlet color when Mama showed at my door.

"Writing in your journal again, Sasha."

I capped off my pen and spun around in my chair. "Hey, Mama. Yeah, just updating today's drama."

She came in and sat on the bed nearest me. "You'll have to forgive your father. He is very happy for you, you know."

I shrugged. "I guess."

Mama studied me, critically. "How are you child. Are you happy?"

I nodded and then stared at my ring. "Max makes me happy. She wants to give me the world." I grinned, remembering her father. "Mr. Slade tried to give me a car today."

I think she was getting used to hearing the weirdest things from me, she just acknowledged what I said. "I am surprised that you didn't accept. I know how much you've wanted one these last two years."

I laughed to myself. "More like six years. It was too much. A Mercedes, really nice too."

"You saw it."

"Uh-huh. When we left his office, it was in the parking lot."

She sighed. "Sasha."

Looking up at her, I saw Mama's caring face. "If you are serious about Max, and I believe you are, then I will allow certain considerations."

"Pardon?" I was confused.

"If you are to enter this lifestyle then you need to become accustom to what it entails."

"What do you mean?"

"Depending on the reason for their gifts, your father and I will allow you to accept. It would not look proper if you associate with the Slade's and look well out of their socio-economic bracket. I will leave it up to you and your good judgment. You have not failed to meet our expectations in this area."

That kind of surprised me, but I saw where she was coming from. Picking up my hobo bag, I undid the magnetic clasp and reached inside to a certain small pocket and pulled out the cell phone Mr. Slade gave me. "They forced this on me today. I haven't even turned it on yet."

"A mobile phone?"

"Their called cell phones, Mama. Mobile's are those things that you can carry around with you inside the house, like the one in the kitchen." My parents are technophobes. It took Papa forever to grasp the concept of email, years ago.

"Turn it on."

I pressed the power button on top and waited for the screen to boot up. She poked around with it for a minute and handed it back to me. "It's very nice." I agreed.

After putting it on standby I set it on the desk. "He also gave me a keycard to the office building's private elevator and said that I could use the salon anytime that I wanted." I waved my fingers at her. "That's where I got my hair and nails done."

Braving the unknown I went ahead and told her about the gowns and jewelry. I think she thought I was exaggerating about the parties. When she saw the multitudes of shiny things Mama looked mystified. "Why on Earth would you need so much?"

"Apparently it isn't proper to wear the same thing more than once a year or something. By then it's out of style and you have to buy a whole new wardrobe. I gave up trying to understand about an hour into the trip.'

"How much did…"

"Mama, you don't want to know, really. "

"Sasha." She wasn't mad, just seriously curious. "I touched the gown. "This was twenty-five hundred."

Mama choked. "Dollars?"

I nodded. "It only gets worse."

"The jewelry?"

"I lost count at thirty-seven thousand and that was before Max got to the necklaces."

"Child, you can't have this here. What if we were robbed?"

I shrugged. "Max had the store fax over the receipts to their insurance company. It's covered."

"Why so much, this time?"

"Her mom got all the jewelry in the divorce settlement, and Max only wears small stuff, a watch, maybe earrings. She said we had to start from scratch. But it was a one time thing… well, barring engagement rings and wedding rings, but that's for the future."

Now I could see her nerves were showing. "If you don't feel safe with all of this here, I could ask Max to hold on to it and just have him bring me whatever I need."

She looked up at me. "You wouldn't mind?"

I shook my head. "No, not at all. It kind of creeps me out having all of this in my closet anyway. Hold on a second." I reached for my cell and dialed my girlfriend's number. I didn't even get halfway when it suggested that I select numbers from memory. Apparently someone pre-loaded it with numbers they thought I'd call.

Max answered on the second ring. "Sending the new phone on its maiden voyage?"

"You're my first call."

She laughed. "I feel honored. It this business or pleasure?"

"Business sort of. Would it be okay to store all the goodies we got today at your place. I'm paranoid we might get robbed."

Mama crooked an eyebrow at me for taking the blame for the move. "That's not true Max. It's me that is the cause."

Max laughed again. "Tell your mom I said hi, and hold on for a second. I need to check on something."

"Max says hi. She's going to check if its okay, I guess."

I waited for a couple of minutes before she came back on the line. "Sasha, Maxwell Slade here."

"Hello sir."

"Are you free tomorrow morning while Maxine and your father go golfing?"

My brain went blank. "I think so."

"Excellent. You and I can get to know one another a little better without my daughter hovering and shooting me looks every thirty seconds. I was thinking of showing you around the country club. Perhaps introducing you to some of the people you'll be interacting with in the future."

"Uh…"

"Excellent. I'll be there in the morning, say eight o'clock?"

"Uh, sir. I don't have anything to wear that will fit in at a country club."

"Hmm. I'll have Lauren drop off an outfit for you tonight. Maxine has your sizes?"

I swallowed. "Yes, sir."

"Excellent. Now on to business. Maxine told me of your concern about having so much jewelry on hand. I completely understand. I'll have someone come by in the morning to pick it up and we'll set aside a room here at the house for your use. Everything you'll need will be here. If you have any special requests Lauren's number is in your cell. She handles all of our personal needs. Don't think you are imposing on her. I pay her very well to be on call. It's all she does for Maxine, me and now you."

"Yes, sir."

I heard a welcoming sigh. "It is so nice to talk to someone that is so polite. I'll see you tomorrow morning, Sasha. I'll give you back to Max now."

I heard footsteps in the background. "Sasha, I'm so sorry about that. Dad insisted on talking to you. I didn't know he was going to put you on the spot. If you want, I'll get you out of it."

A little giggle bubbled out of my throat. "It's okay, Max, really. I suppose I need to do this sooner or later and I'll be bored to tears waiting for you and Papa to finish chasing little white balls around in the grass. It's all for the best, really."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I am. I'm just wondering about what kind of outfit your dad is sending over. That is so weird."

"Lauren is our personal shopper. Believe me. She knows what she's doing. Take her advice with anything. She's the best."

"Okay." After looking at Mama I made my excuses. "I have to go. I'm getting weird looks."

"Okay, baby. I love you."

My face broke out into a huge grin. "I love you too."

All I have to say was thank God I had breasts. It was probably the one and only time in my existence that I'd actually say or thought those words… except for when Max and I were making out yesterday, but that doesn't count. What I'm getting at is the tennis outfit that was dropped off. Mr. Slade and I were supposed to be on the move for the morning so he suggested something light and comfortable.

What I received was a white skort that barely covered anything and a jersey, for lack of something else to call it. It didn't have any sleeves and it had kind of a squarish neckline, but it was so straight that I thought it looked like something a basketball player might wear. My breasts actually let me pull the look off without appearing like I wanted to don some tube socks on and run on a lot of wood.

I pinned my hair up and went light on the makeup. Lauren, who's ability I sorely questioned, suggested I keep and wear the diamond studs and no other jewelry. I felt stupid looking. The only saving grace of the entire outfit were the cute tennis shoes. Flats! No possibility of me falling over because I stepped on a crack wrong.

What made the outfit bearable was the lightweight jacket. I suppose that tennis players had to make sure that they didn't 'cool down' for some reason, cramps or whatever.

She put together a 'social purse' as well. Inside was my clutch, cell, day planner, curiously with events already scheduled, and my pen pouch. That's it. I felt almost naked without a big purse or my organizer bag. It was tiny too, compared to my others.

"Do I look okay?"

Mama smoothed a hair that was escaping from one of my pins. "You look adorable, Sasha."

I wrinkled my nose. "I don't like this outfit."

"Me neither," announced Papa as he looked disapprovingly at my legs and how much they were showing.

"It's the style, Papa." That was one of the only times I'd ever said that with an annoyed tone in my voice.

When I heard a car pull up into the drive, I looked out of the window to see… "Oh my God!"

It was the red Mercedes. He's torturing me!

Mama looked beside me. "That's the car?"

I nodded and groaned. "Mama, make him drive a old pickup truck or something."

She swatted me on the butt, and considering I was wearing a really short skort that didn't provide anything along the lines of padding, it hurt. "Oww," I said and rubbed my left butt cheek.

"Behave. Be gracious."

"Yes, ma'am."

The doorbell rang and I moved two steps to the right, opening the front door. "Hello Mr. Slade. Please come in."

He was dressed almost exactly like me. If I gave him the short skort and the basketball jersey and if I took his shorts and white polo we'd be twins.

"Hello, Sasha. You look great this morning."

"Thank you, sir." I turned halfway to my mother to perform the required introductions, and they chatted while I grabbed my notoriously small purse.

Right when we were going to leave, Mr. Slade pulled out a key from his pocket. "Sasha, you wouldn't mind driving, would you? I seemed to have left my drivers license at home today." I narrowed my eyes at him and he grinned knowingly. Of course he did.

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. and Mrs. Petrovitch, it was an honor. I hope we see each other again soon."

I was about to kick him in the shin, but considering that he'd gained another four inches in height since the last time I'd seen him, I didn't know if I could get away quick enough. The man was related to Godzilla, I swear.

When I pressed the key fob to unlock the doors I was expecting a beep or maybe a chirp, instead I was treated to a low warm humming that wouldn't sound out of place in a science-fiction movie when the good guys first meet an alien race. Truthfully, it was cool beyond words, which made it all the more worse.

My fingers slid along the side quarter panel over the rearview mirror and to the door handle. A tiny whimper sounded deep in my throat. I was pretty sure that I was the only one that heard it. My eyes flicked up to see Mr. Slade staring at me with a smile. I just narrowed my eyes again, opened the door, and hopped in.

I tried to ignore the sweet smell of new car and the ungodly beautiful black leather that was caressing the back of my thighs as I adjusted the automatic seat to conform to my not-so-long legs as opposed to Mr. Slade's genetically altered long ones. Who am I kidding? I noticed it all and nearly squealed with excitement. However, I wasn't going to let him see the large amount of drool that was leaking from the side of my mouth.

The rearview mirror was adjusted, the seatbelt thingie that made the torso strap dig into my breasts was adjusted, steering wheel and outside mirrors were set.

"All ready?" Mr. Satan… sorry, Mr. Slade asked.

I nodded and started the car. It purred at me like it was a Persian cat rubbing along my cheek. I am so screwed.

"See the buttons over the exterior light controls?"

I nodded.

"Press the "M" and then the "One" button."

I did so and nearly jumped when a voice sounded over the speaker system that sounded eerily like that girl that does the computers on Star Trek. "Welcome Sasha Petrovitch. Your personal settings have been stored into memory."

My eyes widened and I looked at Mr. Slade. "How'd it know my name?"

He shrugged. "I may have had it already programmed personally to you, but I'm pretty busy. I forget."

"You're evil. I'm not selling you my soul."

He smirked, like he'd actually heard that one before. Of this I had no doubt. "Too late." He looked at my left hand sitting atop the steering wheel. "Just letting you know that no woman that has worn that ring has ever refused the engagement ring that follows or the wedding that ultimately follows that. As far as I'm concerned you're already my step-daughter, so you'll have to forgive me if I want to spoil you."

"Well, I'm not exactly a real woman, am I?"

"Close enough. My daughter is utterly smitten with you, Sasha, and I don't like to see her sad. So, I'll do everything within my power and most probably what is not in my power to make sure that she is happy. You make her happy."

I set the gear shift into reverse and backed out of the driveway. "I love Max for who she is, not for how much she or you for that matter can give me. I loved her before I even knew she was your daughter."

"I know. She told me, and I have other resources."

Before putting the car into gear I looked at him. "What?"

He pointed on down the street and I proceeded, wary of how much power was under the hood.

"You understand my position in the world, Sasha. I can make or break anyone I choose. That's not bravado, it's just a simple fact. So you will also understand that I won't let just anyone into my family circle."

"I think it's more of a triangle actually."

He grinned a little. "Take a right and head north on the freeway." I navigated through the Saturday morning traffic. In other words there was barely a car on the road until I reached the freeway and entered.

Using simple logic it was easy to deduce that he'd run a security check on me and my family.

"Find any skeletons in the closet?"

Without missing a beat he answered. "Surprisingly few. Other than the obvious issue with your medical condition which you've been truthful about since virtually the beginning, your family history disappears into war torn Europe during the forties."

I knew that much. Official records were destroyed when the city we lived in was sacked and the building burned to the ground. Generations of Petrovitchs were born raised and died in our hometown. I knew we had family records for any history that we might want, but those were for family, not 'random background check guy #2'.

"Your immediate family is supposedly the first in generations to immigrate outside of Serbia to the United States, and your father is a self-made man in every sense of the word. He brought you and your mother over, the legal way, and staked a claim in the house you currently reside. The recent economy was a blow, but he picked it back up and actually improved his status and income. Your mother…"

"I know about my family, Mr. Slade, and it seems you do too."

"I'm just protecting my interests, Sasha."

I nodded in understanding. "I tend to take after my mother when it comes to protecting my family, Mr. Slade. I've also inherited my father's temper and stubbornness."

"Message received. We have an understanding then?"

I nodded.

"Good. That's one of the reasons I heartily approved of Maxine's choice." He breathed out a relieved sigh. "Now, are you ready to brave the old frontier?"

I hazard a glance at him in question. "Snobby rich people."

I snorted. Oops. "Yes sir."

He explained some of the rules of the country club so I'd understand when I broke them properly. "I'm not a big fan of social rules. The only thing I ask is that you treat others as you are treated and use courtesy and common sense when dealing with the unknown. Once you are introduced to certain people it won't matter if you insist on eating in the formal dining area dressed in a tennis outfit. They will overlook the faux pas and treat you with respect. I will hear about it though."

"I won't embarrass you."

"Thank you," he said graciously.

The grounds were amazing. I could tell that a lot of money and time went into creating the perfect place where rich people could get together and look good.

"Oh, I almost forgot." He pointed at the drive that led up to a gigantic building which I was guessing was the main building for the club. "You'll meet a number of people today that will try their best to invite you to parties, teas, and whatnot. Consult your planner. There are a number of people that are what I consider on a do-not-associate-with list I've compiled over the years. They are listed under the red tab."

"You're kidding. You're telling me who to be friends with?"

Without answering that specific question, he offered a reason in its place. "These people, specifically have tried their best to ruin me or others through illegal means or simple jealously. It's a warning, Sasha. Associate with them at your own risk and the risk of Maxine's future."

I shrugged. "Point taken."

"It may seem like I am trying to run your life, but you have to understand. You're like a large injured tuna in shark infested waters. Stay close to me or Maxine and you'll be fine. Don't make any firm commitments until we can brief you on the people we know. Then make your own decisions."

Oh no… valets! People I don't know touching my Scarlett! I cringed inwardly at the thought of already naming the car not to mention the idea that I'd lay claim to her. With a frown I stopped the Mercedes and set her into Park.

My door was already being opened before I even reached for the handle. A semi-tall Hispanic boy held his hand out for me as I unwound from the seat. I did notice his attention to my legs which kind of gave me a little thrill. Everyone likes to be noticed. I was no different. Mr. Slade was waiting for me with his elbow extended, which I took even though I didn't need the assist today. I was much shorter and more sure-footed.

"Good morning, Mr. Slade. It's a pleasure having you back with us today." One of the door men smiled and nodded.

"Thanks Jeffery."

"Miss." The doorman acknowledged me and I gave him a sheepish smile. I hoped that people didn't think I was dating Max's dad. He's about the right age for a mid-life crisis. Oh brother.

We breezed though the main entrance to a glass-enclosed office to the left.

"Mr. Slade. It's good to see you again," a seductive looking blonde said from behind a desk.

"Hello Jenny. This is Sasha Petrovitch my future daughter-in-law. Do you have the material I asked for?"

Jenny was already pulling out a folder. "Right here, sir." She opened it up and withdrew a black card. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Petrovitch. Welcome to Fallen Oaks. If there is anything I can do to ensure your membership with us is to your liking, please let me know."

Mr. Slade nodded and handed the folder back before taking the card Jenny offered. "We'll pick this up on the way out. I'm going to be showing Sasha around the grounds myself."

She nodded with a smile. "As you wish, sir."

On the way out he handed me the card. "That's your way into just about every door that's closed, barring employees only. Don't lose it."

I didn't have any pockets in the skort and my jacket pockets were just barely big enough for my hands, so I had to pause for a second to open my purse to dump it off.

"I'm a country club member," I said dryly. Mr. Slade grinned.

"Congratulations, you're officially a snob. How's it feel?"

I shrugged. "I think my butt kind of tightened up a little bit when Jenny handed me the card."

His laugh echoed in the wide hall. "All the better for Maxine, I suppose." I rolled my eyes bit and laughed a little at his joke.

"Care for some breakfast before we start the trek. There's a lot to see."

I nodded. After fretting about the outfit I was wearing this morning I hadn't had time to actually eat anything.

At the end of the hall we took a right and then our first left into a dining room where a few others were seating, having breakfast themselves. He chose a table near the rear of the room and after holding my chair out for me, sat cattycorner to me with his back to the wall so he could see everything going on in the room.

"You don't like not being in control, do you."

His eyes jerked to a stop from his surveying the scene and dropped to me. "It's not unusual for men of power to be a little obsessive."

I shrugged and opened my purse to store the membership card into a one of a dozen open slots of my clutch and then worked it back in the tiny purse. The organizer was next. Now that I knew what one of the color-coded sections was for I wanted to peruse the names.

"Someone was busy with this."

While the content wasn't full, by any means, it looked like I'd been using it for a while from the shear amount of information enclosed within.

A waiter appeared and we ordered. It was kind of weird not to look at a menu, but Mr. Slade assured me that they had virtually everything that I would want and if they didn't then they would have it no later than the next day. I was tempted to order a Serbian breakfast just to mess with them, but then I realized that the cooks were actual employees and not due my attitude, plus Serbian breakfasts suck.

"We have the information in those organizers in a data base. It was just a matter of having it printed out."

I looked at the pages and was surprised at the quality. At first and second glances, everything appeared to be handwritten. When I knew what to look for I could still barely tell that it wasn't. "Wow."

"That's your lifeline to our world, Sasha. Don't lose it. If you do, it could be replaced and there's nothing incriminating or anything like that, but considering the groupings one could deduce their meanings."

I nodded. "No problem."

"Do you have your cell?"

I pulled it out and he pointed to an application. "Press that one." It brought up a password screen. 'Type in Temporary5478 and change it to something that you'll remember and isn't easy to break. Alpha-numeric if possible."

I punched in the name of my favorite first grade teacher and the number of the street address of my grandfather in Serbia. "Figure that one out," I whispered to myself.

Once I was through the slash page there was an alphabet screen.

"Hit 'S' and enter." That brought up a boatload of names. "You could always type in the entire last name, but page down until you reach Maxine's name. It took a few seconds and a number of page downs, but I arrive and tapped my girlfriend's name. Her picture popped up and a prompt for profile and vital statistics flashed next to it.

"You're kidding."

"I thought it only fair to include us in the mix since I know so much about you. If you want more detailed information about anyone in your organizer then you have access to previously gathered resources."

Man, he didn't mess around.

"I'm working on a facial recognition software interface so all you'd have to do is take a person's picture if you didn't know who they were."

I laughed, half-heartedly. "Were you bored or something?"

"As trite as it may seem, Sasha, knowledge is power."

I looked down at the information on the screen. "This is kind of private, isn't it?"

He shook his head slightly. "There's no information there that you couldn't acquire though exhaustive searching using Google. This is just a concise catalog of people that Maxine and I associate with, and now you as well."

I pondered that while we waited for our breakfast and then ate in peace.

When Mr. Slade finished he set his linen napkin on his plate which promptly disappeared moments after. It wasn't magic, just really efficient waiters. One thing that I noticed about the people in the dining room. Everyone left everyone else alone. There was no social interaction like you see in the movies. Perhaps that was in a different area of the club.

Mr. Slade showed me the tennis courts where the Pro on duty tried to entice me into a quick lesson when I told him I didn't know how to play. He was told I had to tour the rest of the place first, but with the size of my breasts and the condition of my knees and ankles, I probably wouldn't be able to play.

The golf course didn't do anything for me, and I probably wouldn't be making much use of the swimming pool. Somehow I don't think I'd be welcome in a bikini or even a one piece unless there was some serious crushing of certain sensitive equipment.

When we'd worked our way back around to the main building I noticed that there were a lot more people inside.

"Ready to brave the storm?"

I think my brain melted. I must have been introduced to three dozen people. Mostly I remembered their last names. A lot of them were surprised to find out that Maxine was a lesbian. I let them have their fun thinking that I was just one of the girls. They'd find out the truth soon enough.

We took a different route home, and I don't mean my home. Mr. Slade wanted me to see where they lived and meet the security guards and household staff. Knowing that the Slade's were as rich as they were, it didn't surprise me to find out that they lived in the ritzy part of the city and behind gated walls. I'm not going into how nice the place was. I was overwhelmed and didn't really remember that much. What I do remember was the room that he said I could have anytime I wanted. I was to consider it mine if I wanted to visit or if I needed to get ready for some social or business gathering.

I was looking at the awesome bathroom when Mr. Slade stood in the doorway. "Sasha, I apologize, but something's come up at the office. I need to get in there."

I paused for a second. "It's no problem, sir. I can have my mom come get me."

He waved me off. "No need. You have the car now. It's already in your name." This time his face brooked no argument. At the office I could see that maybe he was testing me or something, seeing if I could be easily bought off, but there was something different in his eyes. Something that said, 'please don't argue with me, I want you to have it.'

I didn't say anything.

"Look, stay as long as you want. Take a nap, change, whatever. Our home is now your home."

I looked down, my face was heating up again. "Thank you, sir."

He stepped forward and hugged me lightly. "Call me Maxwell, or if that's too weird then Dad or something. I'll see you soon. We need to get Maxine and have dinner, just the three of us."

I nodded, still not meeting his eyes.

"I'll see you later then, Sasha."

"Bye."

"Hey, where are you guys at?" Max asked.

"I'm laying in my bed. I just took a shower to get rid of the ickyness. I think I've hugged too many people I don't even know."

"That's weird," she said.

"Why's that?"

"Because I'm standing in your living room waiting for you and Dad."

I covered my mouth and tried not to laugh. "I'm in my other room, at your place."

"Ah, things are becoming more clear." She chuckled and relayed my location to my parents. "Is Dad there?"

"He supposedly had to go into the office and left me with the Mercedes. I think it was his evil plan all along. He's probably at some strip club right now stuffing hundred dollar bills in somebody's thong."

"Oh, eww. Please don't put that picture in my head. As far as I'm concerned, Dad stopped having sex when Mom and him conceived me."

I agreed. "Makes sense. Once you have perfection everything is downhill from there."

"Aww. Stay right there. I'll be over in twenty minutes."

I frowned. "Right here? All I have on is a towel. I need to get some clothes. Do you think you can bring me some?"

…
…

"Max?"

"I'm sorry, what? You lost me at the towel thing."

I smiled at being a distraction. "Clothes. Can you bring me some clothes."

"Oh, uh, take a look in the closet."

I walked over. "I need street clothes not…" It was half full with regular clothes. "Whoa. Who did this?"

"Lauren."

They were probably sent over this morning.

"Okay, nevermind."

"I still want you to wait right there."

I grinned at her teasing. "My feet are tired."

"I'll rub them."

A giggle escaped from my lips. "I'll be waiting."

The odds of me acquiring diabetes from the pure sweetness of our relationship at this point in time was quite high. I couldn't imagine what we'd be like months down the road.

I wasted about five or ten minutes browsing the closet and the drawers around the room, most of which were about a quarter full. Lauren was fairly impressive with her hunting and gathering skills, but I suppose if all you do for a living is shop then you ought to be pretty good at it after a while.

A lot of the stuff was casual bordering on semi-casual. I'd imagine that the majority of the clothes that would be coming would wait until the tailor or whomever took my measurements and worked out a style for me. I was kind of eager to see what they'd come up with.

When I'd found the intimates drawer, I drew out a matching bra and panty set and dropped my towel to get dressed. Yes, I was teasing Max and I had no intention of waiting there in something she could have off of me faster than I could blink. I'm not that type of girl. She'd have to work at getting me undressed. Not too hard, but still.

The knit dress I found was too cute for words, but I'll try anyway. Scoop neck, fitted from the shoulders through the waist, medium-wise horizontal stripes in gray and black. Oh, and the sleeves were sewed to look like I'd pushed them up from elbow length up past the mid upper arm. They looked kind of poofy, but not really. The heels I found were amazing, and made perfectly for me considering the heel portion that normally digs in and makes ugly blisters was totally missing. They looked like boots without a tongue that laced up over my ankle. It had a strap that hugged right above my injury. I think I was in heaven when Max arrived.

"Aww. You're dressed." She frowned. "You look all perfect and I'm all sweaty and stinky."

I grinned at her. "You like?"

Considering the hemline didn't quite reach mid-thigh and the whole thing was form fitting she nodded eagerly. Papa would probably have a small stroke.

"Good. Go shower and change. I still need to do my makeup and Lauren was nice enough to provide. It wasn't Lica, but it wasn't the cheap stuff either.

I received a kiss and laughed at how much Max smelled like outside before she ran off down the hall to her own room. It only took me about twenty minutes to fix my face and I spent the rest of the time that Max was away looking at the basic jewelry that was in a row of boxes that lined the top of a mirrored dresser. There wasn't much at all, but I still had the diamond studs in my ears and the promise ring which I swore never to take off until it was replaced with something more permanent. I just needed something for my right wrist and maybe a simple necklace.

After choosing a drop necklace with a single diamond-like stone -- who was I kidding. It was probably a real diamond -- I finished off my arrangement with a really cute watch with a dial face that looked like it had black and white waves flowing through it.

I heard a wistful sigh from the side and I turned to see Max standing there with the goofiest smile on her face.

"What are you doing?"

"Wondering how much longer my luck is going to hold," she said.

Max was wearing white linen Capri's, a light blue camisole and leather sandals with no heel. It was a more feminine style than I'd seen her in to date. Her eyes were lined and she had a light lipstick, but that was it for make up. She'd left her hair down and I just about sighed myself.

"Yours and mine both."

She peeled away from the door and came to me. I was frozen by her feline grace. The movement of muscles in her arms and legs gave off a sense of predator and at that moment I didn't mind in the least that I was the prey.

My voice became breathy. "If you throw me on the bed and do what I think you're going to do then…" I stopped when her hands set on my hips and glided up my sides. She leaned in to my neck and took in my scent then set a light kiss on my neck.

"Then what?"

Her mouth, that close to my ear sent a shiver along my body that raised goosebumps on every inch of my body. Another kiss at my earlobe and I felt my nipples harden and become more than sensitive. By this time her hands were beside my breasts and her thumbs brushed over them. My breath shuttered.

"Um…" I lost all train of thought.

Max's left hand trailed back down and slid around to the small of my back, gently pulling me toward her until I felt the firmness of her body along mine.

Then her damn phone rang.

It jarred me out of the erotic stupor I was in and I would have stumbled back if Max hadn't caught me. The irritation on her face was almost comical. She took a calming breath and dug her phone out of her back pocket to see who she was going to have to murder in a most horrible way.

When she saw the screen, her face changed into surprise.

"Hello?"

I took advantage of the distraction to lean against the dresser and calm myself. This time I had remembered to tuck away certain baggage and it was quite uncomfortable at the moment.

"Um, sure. Hold on a second." I looked up at Max when she caught my eye. "It's a girl named Sarah Perkins."

I recognized the name of Grant Strongholme's researcher that called the other day.

"She want's to know if we'd be available to come down to their studio's for an interview."

I was too stunned to answer. Instead, I just nodded.

"She says yes."

Max wanted to take the Mercedes, but I let her drive. My head was off in the stratosphere at the moment and me driving in heels wasn't the best plan to insure our safe arrival. She had grabbed a blazer from her closet and we were zipping in and out of Saturday afternoon traffic following the directions from the GPS system that still sounded like the lady from Star Trek.

"Should I of changed?"

Max spared me a glance. "You're kidding right?"

I looked down at my outfit. "You don't think this is a little revealing?"

She chuckled. "Uh, no. It's perfect. There won't be any question as to how you should present yourself at school. When they see you in that, heterosexual guys watching the show will start questioning their sexuality."

I blinked. "Was that supposed to be comforting? I'm thinking guys lusting after me would be bad."

She shrugged. "It's not your fault that your parents make great looking babies."

That comment brought me down to Earth, believe it or not. Max was trying to ease my tension and by using our personal banter that sparked our interest in each other to begin our relationship in the first place. It was a comfort zone thing with me. By teasing me I felt a little more normal and not like I was going to be on T.V. in front of tens of thousands of people.

The GPS announced that we'd arrived and once Max found a parking place. It was moments later that I was holding on to her arm and clicking across the parking lot in four and a half inch heels, again!

We were met in the lobby by the researcher, 'call me Sarah'. She led us back, through the building and I got to see some of the studio that I'd only really seen on T.V. It was surreal. Max and I both were put into makeup chairs and then some other lady showed up claiming to be one of Grant Strongholme's producers.

"Hi, Sasha." When she saw me her smiled turned up to about half a million watts. "I'm Vivian. I'm here to get you into the swing of things for Grant." I didn't even get a chance to say hi back before she showed me that things move rather fast in the news business. "A timeline was provided by Ms. Slade and confirmed by you with Sarah here. Grant's going to ask you a few questions about that to warm you up. You don't have to go into massive detail, but be as clear and concise as possible."

Another lady started attacking me with an eyeshadow brush, darkening the make up I already had on.

"Oh! You're engaged! When did that happen?"

She'd obviously spotted my ring. "I'm not…"

"We'll have to work that in there later."

"But I'm not…"

"Don't worry honey, Grant will take it as easy as he can on you, but I can tell you from past experience that he likes to see girls cry. It's a whole male comfort thing. Helps his ratings in the women from twenty to thirty-five demographic."

"Crying? Why would I…"

"I'm off. If you need anything, water, soda, just let one of the assistants know."

The makeup lady set a hand on my shoulder. "Hold still, honey, or you're going to have smudges and we'll have to start all over."

"Max."

"Yeah, Sasha."

"If he makes me cry, you'll hurt him right?"

"No problem. Nobody makes you cry and gets away with it. Right, Sarah?"

The researcher flitted her eyes between the two of us. "Uh, I'll be right back."

The makeup lady snickered. "I think I like you guys."

I saw the label on the mascara she was about to use on me. "Hold it. What is that?"

"It's mascara, sugar."

I shook my head. "No I mean the maker. Who makes it?"

She looked like she'd been busted. I narrowed my eyes at her and opened my purse to withdraw my own mascara. "Use this."

The crap she was about to slather on my lashes would run like crazy if I did happen to cry. No, I did not want to look like a five dollar ho. She looked at it. It was one of the long-lasting waterproof items that Lauren picked up for me.

A few minutes later she was through with me and starting work on Max. I stayed right where I was and watched for any stupid makeup tricks. Max needed a lot more than I did since she wasn't wearing a whole lot to begin with. Eventually we were through and escorted to the studio set that was being touched up for the interview in classic afternoon talk show style, meaning the host was on the right in his chair and the guests were supposed to sit on the left.

"Max," I whispered to her as soon as I saw the chairs. "My dress is too short for this." I was hoping there would be a desk of sorts that I'd often seen on these shows.

"Make sure to cross your left leg over your right and keep your legs together."

I could figure out why they needed to be together, that was easy. "Why left over right?"

"Looks better. Otherwise it makes it appear that you have chunky thighs."

I pulled her to a stop. "My thighs are perfectly fine, maybe even too thin."

Max shrugged. "I know. Like I said before, I think you're hot. But remember the thing about cameras adding fifteen pounds?"

"Oh."

The assistant interrupted us at that point. "You can go ahead and have a seat. Mr. Strongholme will be out in a moment and we'll get this show rolling. Can I get you guys a drink?"

"Water, please, for both of us," said Max.

I looked around at the behind the scenes crew milling about while others were rushing to finish last minute things. Making sure my hemline was tugged down, I smoothed it out behind my butt and lowered myself as gracefully as I could. The end result wasn't too bad. I didn't bounce or anything, and my legs stayed together while I crossed them. All in all it was a successful attempt.

Once Max was sat, some guy rushed up and stuck some sort of handheld device in front of my face and called out some numbers. Then it was done again with Max.

"She needs some more powder on her forehead," someone called from behind a camera that was pointed directly at me.

The makeup lady appeared and brushed my forehead.

"That's good."

Little things like this went on for five more minutes. Some guy came up and hooked microphones up to us before skittering off. We did a sound check and then the host came out.

We made small talk for a few moments and got started.

During the introduction I tried running over the last few days in my mind so I remembered everything properly. Max set her hand atop mine and squeezed slightly. The result was my nerves calming slightly. I gave her a little smile in return.

"My guest this morning is the person caught up in the middle of all this mess, Sasha Petrovitch," said Grant before turning to me. "Sasha, thank you for coming on the show."

I nodded once. "Thank you for having me, Mr. Strongholme."

"Please, call me Grant."

His eyes were warm and his expression relaxed, which put me at ease. "I think my viewers might be a little surprised to find out that underneath that dress you are actually a boy."

Well, right to the point I suppose. "Yes, I am. I've never made a secret of my gender."

"Would you tell us about how you came by looking so much like a girl?"

Max squeezed my hand again, giving me as much courage as was possible.

"I grew up like any other boy, however I have a few medical conditions that weakened the density of my bones and created a treatable thyroid condition. The summer before my freshman year in high school," I gestured to my breasts. "Well, these started coming in. That's when my life changed."

"So you started dressing like a girl at that point?"

I knew he had all the answers to these questions already, but he was making it seem like he wasn't in the know. "No, that wasn't until recently. By the first day of ninth grade I had developed very noticeably. I wore a compression vest to hide what was going on and my doctor wouldn't give me permission to skip gym class."

"What's that?"

"The vest?"

I shrugged. "It's shapewear that pushes everything flat. It's made out of tight spandex. Very uncomfortable."

"I see. So your first day?'

I nodded. "In the locker room, I had to change into gym clothes and when the boys in class saw what I was wearing, thing escalated from there."

"Boys will be boys," he offered.

"No," I countered. "Boys will be vicious animals. Girls too for that matter. When I left school that day I had two black eyes, the inside of my cheek was cut open and required seven stitches, and I had several contusions on my torso."

"What happened to the boys in question?"

"Nothing. The boy that actually beat on me was suspended for three days then they let him back in. The others were just egging him on so nothing happened to them. I had to be out for the rest of the week."

"I assume you got your exemption from class soon after."

I nodded.

"Did your treatment improve over the years?"

I shook my head. "No, I haven't been seriously attacked since then, but I'd always be pushed around in the halls, randomly hit, tripped, basically treated like I was inhuman, like I wanted to look like a boy with breasts."

I took a sip of water and after I sat the glass down he moved on.

"We're told that you have a nickname that's been attached to you for years."

I nodded again. "Tits." I realized I just cussed. "Sorry, can I say that?"

"I think it's allowable considering the topic," Grant said with his lips raising a little. "What did your parents do about all of this? Surely they wouldn't sit by and allow their son to suffer like this."

"No, they wouldn't. They didn't do anything because I never told them." I shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. "You know what its like to be a boy in high school. Unless there was blood involved, the teachers and administration really don't do anything, and it would only make things worse if I said something. Mom would ask why I'd come home bruised all the time, but I'd brush it off as unimportant."

"So you tried to fit in as best as you could?"

"I tried to stay out of the way and unnoticed. That's why I wore the vest."

"What changed this year?"

I smiled as we'd finally reached a topic I was happy about. "I met Max. Someone that looked beyond the surface and actually saw, me."

"This is the young lady that accompanied you today?'

I nodded. "She's been great. We met on the first day of school."

"What effect has she had on your life?"

I leaned forward a little. "The compression vest makes it so I can't breath properly if I get excited or try to overexert myself. That happened and I passed out. Max carried me to the school nurse." I grinned at her proudly. "After seeing that, she told me that she didn't want me wearing the vest, that it was dangerous."

"I'd say so," agreed Grant. "Kids passing out at school isn't exactly normal or healthy."

"As you can see, I've grown in certain areas and couldn't really pass as a guy if I stopped wearing my vest. So I decided that I wasn't going to hide who I am anymore."

"You admitted earlier that you were a boy. So how does that work?"

I almost snorted, but stopped myself. It wasn't exactly ladylike. "I'm a boy with breasts, Grant. How exactly am I supposed to dress? Sure the clothes nowadays are more gender neutral than ever, but boys shirts aren't made for girls figures."

"So you dressed like a girl?"

I shook my head. "No, I dressed in clothes that would fit my body. They happened to be girls clothes at the time."

He looked at me and cocked his head a little. "That's not what I'm seeing when I look at you. You're in a dress. You came to the studios today in with makeup already on and you're wearing high heels. That pretty much tells me that you're dressing like a girl."

"That came later," I admitted. "There is a problem with perception. When I wear girls clothes, people that don't know me see me as a girl. Girls are expected to look a certain way. Sure there are certain ones out there that don't care about their appearance and look sloppy and unkempt, but that's not me. If I'm going to dress a certain way them I'm going to look good doing so. That means makeup, earrings, heels if the occasion calls for it, and so on."

"And your girlfriend doesn't mind?"

I shrugged. "Ask her yourself."

Grant looked at Max who answered immediately. "I think Sasha is beautiful. I wouldn't change a thing about her."

"You referred to him as a her. Why's that?"

Max looked thoughtful for a second. "While Sasha is a boy and has never hidden that fact, we aren't hung up on gender identification. She presents as a girl so I refer to her as such. If she were to put on that stupid vest and boys clothes, I would refer to her as a him."

Grant turned to me. "That doesn't bother you?"

"Not at all," I answered truthfully. "You can call me a boy or a girl or use masculine or feminine pronouns. Right now, I'm both. I'm not trying to pretend or say that I am anything different. This is who I am."

"Others would beg to differ."

I narrowed my eyes, feeling the anger build slightly in my chest. "Yes, people like Mr. Parsons and his Nazi security guards."

"You're referring to the assistant principal of your school."

"That's right."

"Tell me about what happened between you two."

I related the entire sordid tale, virtually word for word at certain parts. When I finished Grant had a confused or possibly disbelieving face displayed. "Sasha, don't get me wrong, but I just can't see how a person in Mr. Parson's position would act this way."

I blinked, totally taken aback. "That's what happened."

He leaned back. That's your side of what happened, not necessarily the whole truth. My face heated and my hands started shaking. "I'm not lying. Why would I lie about this? Max, tell him."

I looked at my girlfriend and she had on her dissatisfied face. "You have the tape. I know you do."

Grant smirked a little. "Sorry, I have to play devil's advocate sometimes. I'm saying what a lot of people out there are saying to their televisions right now." He turned to face the camera. "I would like to think that we live in a more enlightened age, where any person, regardless of race, creed, color, or gender can receive an education in a safe environment. However, it seems to be the policy of Stanton High School and the Cypress School District to pick and choose who they teach. Why do I know this?"

Turning to another camera he held his hand out to Max. "Wednesday afternoon one of my producers met with Max, and gave her this brooch." Grant withdrew the fake brooch/camera and showed it to the cameraman. "Inside is a hidden camera that recorded the last event that Sasha described. And if I may say so, she did it virtually perfectly. See for yourself."

The red lights on the cameras all went out and Grant pointed to a monitor off stage in front of us. It was like reliving the whole thing all over again. It was from my perspective, but a little lower considering I was short and the pin was on lapel. That made the scene all the more ominous seeing the Nazi's were looming over me, looking intimidating, confident, self-righteous, and at the end, terrified.

When the scene jerked and saw Max and I leaving the grounds, I felt something being pressed into my right hand. A tissue. I looked away from the monitor and dabbed at my face and eyes. When I looked back up, Grant was staring at me with sadness in his eyes.

"Cypress School District was contacted for a statement and given the opportunity to send a representative, but declined. After seeing this, myself, I decided to do a little investigating on my own. We obtained the official police report regarding Sasha's injuries and complaint. Some interesting facts came to light and it looks like this whole incident was staged, a set up if you will, or dare I say a conspiracy to deprive a young man or young lady, as the case may be from an education."

He stood and walked to a big X on the floor, facing one of the camera's. "KPHX along with representatives from the ACLU and Slade Investments as of this broadcast will be working in conjunction to file a civil rights case against the Cypress School District, Mr. Parsons, the Superintendent Mr. Danvers and his daughter for their parts in last week's events. It remains to be seen whether the City's District Attorney plans to pursue a criminal conspiracy case. Their office has failed to respond to our questions regarding the case as well. Stay with us this week as we expose the corruption in our schools, our five part series on what our children are actually learning, or in Sasha Petrovitch's case, being allowed to learn. Good morning."

The lights on the camera cut out again and Grant came back to sit down. Leaning over to me he held out his hand and I shook it. "You might be interested to know that the District's attorney's called us this morning and told us that Parsons and Danvers have been suspended with pay until the investigation has been completed."

"Really?"

He nodded.

"Does that mean I can go back to school, Monday?"

She smiled. "I would think so. If anyone, and I mean anyone, student, parent, administration, or teachers, give you even a dirty look, I want you to call me. I'll have a crew out there within the hour." He handed me a card with his office number embossed on the bottom.

"Thank you."

"Feed me," I said with a silly grin while Max made herself comfortable in Scarlett's drivers seat.

"What do you feel like eating?"

"I don't care. Just nothing greasy. I don't think my stomach could take it."

"Queasy?"

"My nerves are shot for the year."

I wanted nothing more than to snuggle up under Max's arm and sleep for the next week, but I was hungry and it was still a while before dinner time. "Did they say when the show was suppose to air?"

"Monday, during the morning show."

I frowned. "I guess I'll have to tape it."

He looked at my purse. "Do you have your cell?"

I nodded and dug it out.

"Look for the TV application."

I went to the second page and found the little TV symbol and pressed it. A screen came up asking for local, cable, and pay for view. "You're kidding. I can watch it on this?"

She nodded. "Hit TV and page the schedule for Monday morning. Just set the DVR and watch it any time you want."

"I'll say it again. Rich people are so weird." As I was following her instructions I went on with my observations. "The toilet in my room takes the cake so far."

"Did you find the remote?"

I nodded. "Yeah, but come on, a toilet that opens the lid when you get near it, has a fan to suck away the smell, shoots water on your butt afterward and then blow dries it for you? Don't you think that's a little over the top?"

Max grinned. "The question is did you like it?"

"Well yeah, but it was really weird."

"The seat is temperature controlled so it will never be cold in the mornings, and you can link the remote to your Twitter account to update exactly how much and what you deposit."

I almost dropped my phone. "What! No way!"

She shrugged. "Okay, I lied about the Twitter thing, but I think it'd be funny." I flung myself back and laughed so hard my side hurt and she wouldn't stop. Her voice changed into a mockery of Hal from 2001: A Space Odyssey. "Good morning, Sasha. Your last deposit was one pound and four ounces. Analysis of the contents shows that you need to increase your fiber intake by five grams for optimum fecal consistency."

"Stop!" I giggled. "I hurt!"

"Will you be requiring additional water for cleansing? You know that you are leaving a large carbon footprint because you can't eat an apple. Think of future generations, Sasha. Think of the children."

"Max!" Now I was having trouble breathing.

"Okay, I'll stop."

It took me forever to calm down, as I was still erupting into giggles every time I thought of the stupid Twitter thing.

"I don't even have a Twitter account."

"Give it time. Pretty soon you'll be just as superficial as the rest of us."

"Never!" I declared.

Max chose a mom and pop restaurant that served a pretty nice grilled chicken salad in a relaxing atmosphere. Have you ever seen couples that sit on the same side of the booth at restaurants? I never understood why they do that. I mean, how can they talk to each other without comfortably making eye contact. I thought it was the silliest thing until I did it myself.

Here's the reason: body contact. All I wanted, after going through the drama of seeing Parsons' face again, was to be held by my girlfriend. So you'll see why I was currently snuggled up under her arm, with my head set on her shoulder right under her ear. It had to be the most serene place in existence. The feeling of acceptance and unconditional love eased every pain and every emotional ache I'd felt for the last three years.

"Feel better?"

"Mmm."

"Want to do anything else today?"

I sighed in contentment. "Can we stay here like this for a while?"

"In the middle of a restaurant? Uh, I guess."

I smacked her, playfully on the thigh. "I'm enjoying being with you, Max. I don't care what we do."

"We could go back home and put a movie in. Take it easy for the rest of the day, just you and me."

I sat up and grinned. "Perfect."

She tried to give the keys to me, but I refused. "You drive. I need to check in with Mama."

That actually went pretty well. She was excited that I was going to be on TV and even more excited to hear about the eventual downfall of the evil Dr. Parsons… Mr. Parsons and his band of do-badders. I told her about returning to school on Monday and that I was spending the rest of the day with Max. The only thing she asked was if I was going to miss dinner.

The Slade's had a home theater. No, not a home theater system, an actual theater. It wasn't near as big as one of those cinema screens but it was still pretty big. Regular theater chairs were set up in the front to seat about twenty people and then in the back were tables, and couches for those that wanted to have a meal with their movie. It was neat.

I chose the couch and Max put in an action movie before sitting down and allowing me to put my head on his lap. Soon after the movie started I was put to sleep by Max's fingers sifting though my hair.

"Did everything go well today?"

I shifted a little on the couch when I heard Mr. Slade's voice, but I kept my eyes closed.

"She was great, Dad."

"Good. I was wondering what was taking them so long to do the interview. Grant called me around lunchtime and told me about the series he was going to do on the school system and how he wanted to lead off with Sasha's story."

"Well, I don't think I could have asked for much better. He treated her with respect. I don't think she gets that too often."

"Maxine, with you behind her, I don't think that's ever going to be a problem again."

Max's fingers found their way through my hair again. I smiled and wormed my head a little in her lap.

"You probably think I'm nuts falling for her this quick."

Mr. Slade chuckled. "I think you're young, Maxine, not nuts. But I also think you've found a good person."

"I really love her, Dad." She sniffed and cleared her throat as quietly as she could.

"I can see why. Just make sure you don't let her get away from you."

"Not a chance."

"Speaking of getaways, did she do the driving today?"

"No, she made me drive."

Mr. Slade's voice turned humorous. "I've never had a more difficult time getting someone to accept a gift before."

"She's a conscientious person. It would be really hard to break her sense of what is right. She thinks it's not right that she's taking all of these things and not earning them."

"Hmm, well then I'll have to do something about that."

"Sasha's still in school, Dad. It's not like you can give her a job. Her parent's won't let her work during the school year anyway."

"Who said anything about a job. This would be more of a community project or something of the like. What's she interested in, something she's really committed to?"

There was a lengthy pause. "Her family."

"Give me a day or so to mull it over. I'll think of something. In the meantime you need to get her up or she'll never fall asleep tonight."

When I heard the door close I opened my eyes. "I love you, too."

Air hissed through her teeth. "I knew you were faking, you big faker."

I just smiled.

"By the way, I think you snore really cute."

I sat up and looked affronted. "I do not snore."

"Yes you do, and it's really cute." Max made really quiet inhaling sound and then topped it off with a single cute 'ka' sound.

I had no choice but to give her my put-upon look. "Fine, no kisses for you."

Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say to someone that can pick you up like yesterday's laundry and flip you over in her lap while she attacked your neck and ran her fingers quickly along your ribcage.

"Stop! I'm ticklish!"

She froze for a second. "Your point being?"

"Um, that I'm ticklish and you shouldn't tease your poor girlfriend?"

"Nope, not good enough."

I screamed when she resumed her attack. "Max, stop! I need to pee."

She dropped backward, boneless. "You're such a girl."

Sitting up I wiggled my hem back down. "So. You like that." I slipped my feet inside my heels and started tying up the laces. When I was done, I stood and walked around to stand in front of Max.

She leaned up and set her hands on my bare calves. "You are so incredibly sexy."

"See. You like that I look like a girl."

"Uh-huh. And feel like a girl." Her hands ran up my legs sending feelings that I was going to do bad things if I stayed there any longer up my spine.

"You need to stop that. Your dad's home, and I need to go change. Mama and Papa will kill me if I stay out too late."

She sighed and dropped back again. I smiled at her then set braced myself as I leaned over way too far to kiss my girlfriend.

Max braced me with her hands on my hips and deepened the kiss. When I pulled away she moaned. "I don't want you to go."

Holding out my hand, I ignored her protest. "Come on. Go with me to change."

I found the cutest little yellow and white plaid romper hanging in the closet. Okay, I'll give Lauren a pass for the awful tennis outfit. Checking to make sure Max wasn't hovering I slipped off my dress and bra before stepping into the romper and pulling it up. Strings secured it in halter fashion, and I had to adjust my breasts into the cups provided. It felt good to get out of a bra once in a while.

Spotting some leather flip flops with little yellow accents, I slipped my feet into them. Ahh. Perfect. I felt almost normal again.

"You're killing me," Max said in pained disgust. How can you go from a stunning sexpot to ubercuteness in one outfit change? It's just not human I tell ya."

"Sexpot?"

Sensing a girlfriend faux pas, Max doubled back on her words. "Um, I meant stunningly sexy. I'm tired and I didn't get a nap. Can I have just a tiny break?"

Moving forward and into her, I raised up on my toes. "Okay, just one." I kissed her on the cheek. "I need to go say bye to your dad."

We found him in his home office. I swear, I think the man works all the time.

"Sasha, Maxine." He smiled invitingly.

"I just want to say bye. I have to get home before my parents send out a search party."

He stepped out from behind the desk. "I'm sorry to see you go, but I understand about how parents feel about their daughters."

Feeling a need to solidify a portion of myself I stepped up to him and gave him a hug. "Thank you for taking me to the country club this morning, and for the membership."

I didn't even make it to his shoulders, and my hands didn't go very far behind his back. Mr. Slade made me feel so incredibly tiny next to him.

"Anytime, Sasha."

Backing away I looked up at him and smiled as I took Max's hand in mine.

"I'm going to walk her out, Dad."

"I'll be here, goodnight, Sasha."

When I turned back, I finger-waved at him. "Bye Dad."

That may have threw both of them for a loop, but Mr. Slade asked me to call him that only this morning. Imagine my surprise when he looked dumbfounded for a moment and then grinned back. Like I said once before, it's the little things that make life worth living.

The End, for now.

Author's Note: There's the turning point with Sasha and Max's life, the prologue if you will. I left a few unresolved issues, but for the most part it stands by itself. I do have plans to continue this story, a year later in their future. At this point it's just day to day living and Sasha learning to deal with living in two lifestyles (Rich and Not so rich). What she learns later is more important, and that's where I'll take this story next. So stay tuned for the sequel sometime in the future.

Photo Credit: as I forgot to post this in the first section, I'll do so now. Kayleigh Hendricks.

Author's Notes: I really wasn't planning to cover this, but I've received threats of bodily harm if I don't (not really). I was working on the next story so this is more of a P&P 1.5 (an interlude if you will). However, it helps introduce the villain for the next story, so it's not entirely without merit. Enjoy.

Expect the best, plan for the worst, and prepare to be surprised. - David Waitley

From the Journal of Sasha Petrovitch:

May 21, 2011

If I were to die today I think I would die the happiest girl in the world. The Prom was like something out of a storybook. I spent most of the day at the SI salon being pampered by Sandra, Jules, and Mimi. I wouldn't trade those girls for any others in the world.

With Sandra's advice since school began, my hair has probably grown about five inches. It was the exact length I needed for the design she and I agreed on for the Prom.

Jules has had me on a skincare regime for so long. Well, you're already read tons of my previous entries with me bitching about how annoying it is to keep up with, but the end result was worth it. My skin has never felt so soft and smooth. Max can't keep her hands off me. Not that I mind.

And lastly Mimi, dear Mimi. I've given her fits with my makeup. We can probably sit half the day and argue over styles. She's taught me so much, and I've challenged her so much that she's all but made me her partner in crime when it comes to problem cases. Just last week she set me an emergency text with an attached photo. It was one of the executives on the twentieth floor of SI. Some 'power women' think they know all about everything. Some things you leave in the hands of professionals. The woman was a fashion and makeup nightmare out of the office and argued with Mimi about every little choice she made of the woman's own good.

I showed up, 'on a whim,' to calm the exec's nerves and back up Mimi's know-how with my own opinions. Seeing as how I'm Maxwell Slade's future daughter-in-law and I'm often seen around the building, the exec listened and let Mimi do her work.

What am I talking about? You don't want to hear about makeup. The Prom!

Max picked me up at Mama and Papa's house.

(I can't believe I wrote that. I spend so much time over at the Slade's that I've come to think of that as home now. Well, it's not that it won't be, but still. I feel guilty. Perhaps I should do something nice for Mama and Papa. Just us three.)

The limo wasn't a limo, but one of those old fashion Bentley cars, like back from the twenties or forties. We went to dinner at André's. I was so nervous about everything that I could barely eat a bite. Max was so handsome in her tuxedo, with her hair slicked back. She made me feel like a princess the entire evening.

The dance was, dare I say, magical. I didn't care in the least that my knees were aching at the end of the evening if it meant I could be in her arms for one more song.

The strangest part of the night was when some of the other girls brought me their Memory Books to sign. While I'm sure you are tired of reading about how I was never really accepted by the students at school, I had to admit that I was the one that caused the most drama, thus I became a memorable event in their lives. Don't worry, I was gracious as Mama taught me to be, and I signed something positive. If they took away anything worthwhile from my experience then I considered it a good thing. People don't learn enough life lessons in school.

So, are you ready to hear about the hotel after the prom?

Max reserved the Spindletop room at the Hyatt. Sitting atop the fifty-first floor of the luxury hotel downtown, we could see the entire city and beyond. I was exhausted from the dance, but the excitement of what I knew Max had in store for me made it all worth experiencing.

Warm lighting set the mood. Strawberries and Champagne were waiting for us, complements of Daddy Slade. It isn't often that a father is complicit in the devirgining of his daughter, but we were both daughters in his eyes, not to mention that we were already married in his eyes as well.

My dress never made it past the entryway, neither did Max's tux. She treated me every bit the lady over the evening and now she was going to receive her reward for waiting all year for me. Holding to my vow of chastity was more than difficult at times, but I think it was worth it in several different ways.

When we were spent after the first time in bed, Max held me and cried. I mean it! She never cries, but she did with me after we'd made the most sweetest and awkward love. That, of course, sent me over the edge and I accompanied her in her happiness.

There's no doubt, and hasn't really been since we have been together, that she is Dusho moja, my soul. And I showed her exactly how much she meant to me, over and over last night.

End Journal entry May 21, 2011.

"Making sure to record all of the sordid details?" I heard over my shoulder.

I capped the Mont Blanc and set it inside its pouch before spinning around at my desk. Max stood there, leaning against the doorframe, in her black slacks and royal blue silk shirt, smirking at me. "Of course, Dusho moja. I don't ever want to forget last night."

She crossed the room as I stood and set the pouch in my purse. "You look beautiful today."

I grinned up at her as she took me into her arms. "You've said that already at least five times this morning. Not that I'm complaining or anything."

Her kiss was just as electric as every single one from last night. Since we'd made love, something changed in Max. It was like it was firmly cemented in her mind that I was hers and no force on Earth could take me away. No matter where we were at, there was always some portion of he body that touched mine. A hand, a finger, her leg against mine. I found that I was almost addicted to having her touch me and vice versa.

"I love you."

"Mmm." I snuggled under her chin. "I love you too."

The only thing I wanted to do was sigh in contentment.

"What do you want to do today? You name it and…"

I pulled away, but stayed in her arms. "Max, you know I have to go in to the office today."

Her face crumbled. "It's Saturday, and Prom was just last night. I'm sure Mrs. Cusco won't mind if you take the day off."

Reaching my hand up to cup her jaw and slide my fingers to her chin, I gave her a look of regret but stern resolution. "She was nice enough to give me the morning off considering she knew you were going to keep me up all night ravaging my body."

Max grinned really silly.

"That means I have to work extra hard this afternoon to make up for it."

She rolled her eyes at that. "This internship of yours was the worst idea Dad's ever had."

Smacking her chest lightly I gave her a little glare. "You know I want to pay my own way, Max. And you yourself wanted me to be the Princess Diana of Slade Investments. How else am I suppose to learn?"

Her head lolled back. "I know. It was the worst idea I've ever had as well."

With a smile I stepped back. "Do I look okay?"

"Okay? You're gorgeous. I don't think you could ever look bad."

Do you see why I love Max so much? "I'm talking about the new suit. It's not too masculine, is it?"

Rose colored cotton blouse, charcoal grey man-vest with matching knee skirt and rose colored three inch court shoes.

"I think that if anyone thought you were in any way masculine then they'd need to have their head examined. Put the jacket on, let me see the whole thing."

I retrieved the matching jacket and max was right behind me to help slide it up my arms. She's so thoughtful sometimes that I just want to kiss her. When she worked her way around front again she adjusted my collar. "We're not going to a disco. Let me get a pin."

She pinned my collar. That's what I needed. I knew something was off but I could figure out what. "Thank you."

Max looked at my left hand. "Good you have your promise ring on. I don't want any men or women getting any ideas. You're mine."

Did I tell you how much Max being possessive turns me on?

I flashed her great-great-great-great grandmother's ring at her. "I'm all yours." That's when I saw my watch and what time it was. "I gotta go or I'm going to be late."

Max escorted me out. It wasn't needed anymore. I'd grown quite agile wearing heels of almost any height over the last nine months, but I still felt very feminine when I was on my lover's arm and she was ever the gentleman.

Scarlett was waiting out front, gleaming like she was off the factory room floor. At the drivers side door, I gave Max a kiss. "I'm going over to see Mama tonight for dinner."

I could see the hurt in her eyes, but she understood that we weren't married yet and I still had family obligations. "Okay. I'm supposed to talk to Dad about college." She rolled her eyes. "So, I'll be in seclusion half the day anyway."

Another kiss and I brushed a bit of lipstick from underneath her bottom lip. "Try to have a good day, Dusho moja."

Another thing I've mastered is the art of driving in heels. However things are so much easier driving Scarlett. She responds to my every touch like we were meant to be together. I wanted to let the top down but it would destroy my hair and I had to work. I did ponder going out to the country with Max the next day and opening her up on the empty roads. There's something about pressing that little button by the gearshift and putting the transmission in Racecar mode, then letting loose. It's quite freeing.

When I pulled into my assigned parking space with ten minutes to spare I eased down off of my driving high, grabbed my purse and strode up to the front door.

"Morning boys," I said to the two security men standing sentinel behind their counter.

"Good morning, Miss Petrovitch. New suit?" the taller of the two replied.

I grinned. It was almost always a new suit. It's one of the annoyances of being a Slade. We were expected to be the height of fashion at all times when representing the family. That meant wasting a lot of time, money, and patience in trying to do so. "Yes. It's sweet of you to notice, Stephen."

Yeah, um, I know their names. It's hard not to acknowledge people. I feel so bad when I don't remember everyone's name, so I take the time to talk to almost everyone I meet so as to reinforce their face to their job, to their family, to their name. I swear, before I'd entered womanhood, the only people I had to remember were my teachers, and parents.

I didn't have any friends. Now everyone wanted to be my friend. Rather, I should say, everyone wanted to be Maxwell Slade's future daughter-in-law's friend. It was something that I'd come to grips with around Christmas time. Cards and presents from people I'd only met once at Fallen Oaks Country Club were sending me gifts and well wishes for the coming year.

That's also when I'd learned that certain things were expected of me as well… like thank you cards. Gah! The hand cramps I had were nightmarish. One hundred and seventy-three thank you cards, all with small personal messages were sent out by me.

Max and Daddy Slade offered to hire an assistant for me, but since it was my first Christmas with my future family I insisted on doing everything myself. That was really bad idea.

"How are Susan and Marie?" I asked Stephen. The families of everyone I'd met were even harder to remember, but I studied and Daddy Slade's cell phone index of all the employees was a big help.

"They're great, Miss Petrovitch. Thanks for asking."

Dennis, the other security guard was single, so I just finger waved at him. "Hi Dennis."

He grinned, embarrassed. "Morning ma'am."

"Stephen, give the girls my love. I'm off to the salt mines."

Palming my security card I made my way to the private elevator and punched the third floor, where I worked. I'll say one thing about going out of your way to talk to people and let them know you actually cared about them. It was like lighting a match in your heart. For the most part, people liked to be noticed. They like that a pretty girl thinks that they are worth the effort to talk to. Each time I see their smiles when I acknowledge them, it's like lighting another match. Pretty soon my heart shines and it shows in what I do.

Sorry, I don't want you to think that I'm all stuck up in the way I look. I admit I'm pretty. Max always dotes on me about how hot I am or how gorgeous I look in certain outfits, but I'm realistic. I'm short. Hot women aren't short. I have virtually no butt. Hot women have cute bubble butts. The heels I wear help out in that regard, making me push it out a little more when I stand, but there's only so much one can do with so little.

I suppose that's how genetic women feel at times. Very few people are perfect. Hold on… they make butt implants don't they?

"Right on time, Sasha."

Glancing at my watch, I notice it's twelve noon, on the dot. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Cusco," I said as I set my purse on my desk. "What's on the agenda for today?"

Mrs. Jeanine Cusco was the Senior Vice President in charge of the charitable arm of Slade Investments. I was her protégé, as she would call me. Since I didn't get paid, I called myself an intern. Mrs. Cusco let Daddy Slade know that she would be retiring by this time next year at the tender age of sixty-five. If things went well, then I would be taking her place, not as a VP but Head of Department.

Needless to say, I was intimidated. With no managerial experience, and no college, I wasn't qualified to take her position. That's why I was in the office on a Saturday afternoon. To learn everything I could about what she did. Every school holiday, teacher in-service day, and sometimes after school I would be at her side doing my best not to let my future family down. It was a given that a lot of people would like to see me fail. Pretty much everyone at my high school, all the guys that had ever hit on Max, virtually anyone that has a problem with crossdressers would love to see me fail. The problem was that I confused them as well and that gave me the advantage.

After setting a folder on my desk, she grinned that evil old-lady grin of hers. "This one is all yours."

I looked at her curiously and opened the folder. Sick kids. Oh God. SI helped many organizations, Red Cross, Heart Association, you name it and I could deal with it just fine. But when it came to sick kids it kind of hit a little too close to home.

I swallowed and looked up to Mrs. Cusco.

"This is the one you cut your teeth on, Sasha. I want you to go down and tour the center. They're expecting you in forty minutes. Remember what I've taught you about being observant. Watch how they treat those around you." I nodded.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you have any questions?"

I swallowed and shook my head, slightly.

After looking at me for a moment, she sat down in front of my desk. "I know this is your weakness. That's why I'm assigning it to you. Learn from the experience."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You better get going."

Steeling my nerves I shouldered my purse and picked up the file.

The Hammerton House was simple in its purpose. It was a hospice for terminally ill children. They would make any patients as comfortable as possible, usually with the use of heavy drugs until they passed. As a secondary mission they would do what they could to make a single final desire of their's come true. It was kind of like Make-a-Wish, but exclusively for children ages fifteen and younger.

Hammerton House was located in the country, not too far away from the outskirts of the city. The facilities, from the outside were beautiful. Dozens of live oaks littered the grounds with a perfectly manicured lawn where I could see a number of children milling about, playing board games, or simple talking to each other. Nurses and other aides were close by. I'd never seen so many wheelchairs in my life.

The outside temperature was a perfect seventy-five degrees and there was a light breeze blowing when I stepped out of Scarlett.

I received a few looks, mostly from the adults, but a few from the children. One little blonde girl waved at me from her chair. A blanket was covering her legs, but other than that I couldn't see a thing wrong with her. I grinned and waved back, but continued up the walkway.

If they were like every other place that I'd visited with Mrs. Cusco then I already knew they wouldn't want me near the patients without going through proper procedures.

"Sasha Petrovitch from Slade Investments. I have a twelve-forty five with your director," I told the receptionist.

She brightened as if expecting me. "Of course Miss Petrovitch. If you'd like to follow me."

We walked down a carpeted hallway to the right of the desk which looked like the administrative wing of the building. The smell of antiseptic and hospital cleaning supplies was still strong, even in the closed in offices.

"May I get you anything to drink before you start your tour?"

"No, thank you." The truth was that I wasn't sure I'd be able to hold anything down as upset as my stomach was at the moment.

She knocked on the outer door to the Director's office and then opened it. "Dr. Barrett, Miss Petrovitch from Slade Investments."

Dr. Barrett was in his mid-forties, just starting to gray a little at his temples, he struck the perfect picture of a kindly pediatrician. All he was missing was the lab coat and stethoscope.

He looked a little confused at first, but he stood and smiled welcomingly. "Thank you for taking the time out of your schedule Miss Petrovitch. Sorry to seem out of sorts, Jeanine led me to believe you were much older. It's not often I see someone so young dealing with the things so morbid."

"Sasha, please, Doctor."

He grinned and held out his hand for a shake. "Then you must call me Andrew. Can I have Jennifer bring you a beverage?"

I shook my head while I looked around. "No, thank you."

He nodded. "Well then, let's get right to work."

We spent most of an hour going over Hammerton House's books, that I was truthfully just beginning to understand. While the hospice takes in federal, state, and local money for certain things, its bread and butter come from donations from the community and businesses. Their claim to fame was that if families didn't have the money or insurance to cover the expenses for care then Hammerton would.

I've never met a single living person that wouldn't go out of their way to help a sick child in some way, shape, or form. It was my job to see exactly how much they needed to continue their good work and if they were actually spending it wisely. A daunting task for someone that wasn't even nineteen yet. Another two months and that would be something that I would have to amend.

When the books were set aside I was almost relieved to get to the portion of my visit that I was better suited for. Andrew led me around behind the scenes. From touring with Mrs. Cusco I knew the things to look for. She would often point them out for their guide, embarrassing them for whatever reason.

It is human nature to put on your best face for official visitors. The hard part was to see beyond that face to what actually goes on when you weren't there. Not surprisingly, the place was spotless. I would probably eat off the floor if I had to without fear of become sick. It made me wonder how they did it.

There were play areas for the children that were able, and special setups like computers or game consoles for those that weren't able to leave their bed. All in all it was a great place to send SI's money.

Then I had to meet some of the children. This was the most difficult part of my job.

"Do you mind if we go outside?" I asked.

Andrew showed me the quickest way to the front. "You've had personal experience in places like this?"

I looked to him as I walked through the door and got my first breath of fresh air. "How could you tell?"

He gave me a sympathetic smile. "I see the signs, Sasha."

I swallowed and looked off at the trees. "It's the antiseptic smell. I spent way too much time in hospitals when I was young."

He nodded in understanding. "I suppose it brings back a lot of memories then."

"Yeah." Once I was in control of myself I saw the little blonde girl further down the path than she was when I first arrived. "It took the doctors forever to find out what was wrong with me and as a result I was in and out, poked with needles and run through every machine imaginable. A lot of bad memories."

He smiled and held his hand out. "Well then, lets see if we can make some good associations then, shall we?"

I observed a few of the children playing like there was absolutely nothing wrong, like they were at school, or playing in the park.

"Hi."

Turning around I saw the little blonde haired girl sitting in her wheelchair, not two feet behind me. As best as I was able, I squatted down and smiled happily at her.

"Well, hello. What's your name."

"Cynthia. Who are you?" She couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old.

"I'm Sasha."

Her brows worked up. "That's a weird name."

"It's Russian. It means Man's Defender."

"Are you Russian? You don't sound Russian?"

I shook my head. "I'm Serbian-American. My parents moved here when I was younger than you are, and I grew up in America."

She absorbed that for a few moments. "You're very pretty. I like your shirt."

"Thank you. I like yours too. Hello Kitty is my favorite."

Cynthia looked down at the giant white kitten face on her tee-shirt and grinned. "Mine too. Do you have a boy or girl here?"

I shook my head. "Nope. I'm here to see if I can help out."

"Her eyes widened a little. You work here?"

"Not exactly, sweetie. I work for a company that helps out places like this, so you can be taken care of right."

"Oh." That seemed to disappoint her. She sighed a little bit too dramatically. I could tell she knew how to work a crowd. Her cheek worked as she now looked uncomfortable.

That wasn't my purpose here and I wanted to make it up to her. "Have you told the nurses here your wish yet?"

The look on her face got even more sad. "Yeah. They can't do it though."

Crap. I kept digging myself deeper and deeper. "Well, tell me and I'll see what I can do."

I should have just walked away. It wasn't my job to make a girl's wish come true. It was my job to give people money to do that.

"I want to see the leaning tower of pizza."

I blinked. Oh. "It's not really pizza sweetie. It's Pisa. That's the town that the tower is in."

"I know that, but I like calling it pizza anyway."

They girl was throwing me. "Um, why did you want to see it?"

She looked around for a second to make sure we weren't being overheard. "That's where mommy was born. She said her mommy had her in a cab in front of the pizza tower."

I swallowed and tried not to giggle at her grandmother giving birth in front of a gigantic tower of pepperoni pizza. I patted her hand and gave her as sweet of a smile as I could manage. "I'll see what I can do, honey. Okay?"

"Really?"

I nodded. "Give me a little while and I'll see what I can do."

"Okay."

I stood and leaned over to kiss her forehead. "You take care, sweetheart. I'll see you soon."

"Bye."

When I returned to Andrew I sighed. "What's wrong with her?"

He frowned slightly. "A lot of different things."

Knowing about patient confidentiality I rephrased my question. "She says that she wants to see the Leaning Tower of Pisa as her wish. Why can't she?"

His hands found their way into his pants pockets. "Cynthia spends most of her day in dialysis. The problem is the cost of having someone trained to do this procedure, the flight over, the stay, flight back, all of this and she has no passport. If it were anywhere in the U.S. we wouldn't have a problem."

My jaw set and I grimaced. "Well, I'm making it my problem. I'll give you a call as soon as I've figured it out."

I was on the verge of tears by the time I'd made it back to the office. Stephen and Dennis were concerned until I told them where I was at. Then they were more concerned.

"They shouldn't make a pretty girl like you go to those places," Stephen said righteously.

I shook him off. "Then who would?"

I'd made my way up the elevator and to my desk before setting my head in my hands.

"Sasha?"

I wiped at my eyes and sniffed, decidedly unladylike. "I'm okay."

She sighed and sat in front of my desk again. "You can't let this job get the best of you, dear. It will tear you apart if you do."

"I know."

"We do what we can with the resources that are available."

"I know."

Seeing that I had heard it all before she set on another tack. "Tell me what set you off."

I gave her the story about Hammerton House and that we should continue our relationship with them. Then I moved on to Cynthia.

"Well, the answer seems simple enough. Get to work."

I looked up from my desk. "What?"

"Contact the people you need to make this happen. See if you can get their support through donated services. Quit feeling sorry for everyone and do something about it, Sasha."

Maybe a slap in the face was what I needed. The determination in Mrs. Cusco's voice sent a jolt of conviction to through me get the job done. "Yes, ma'am."

Without any further acknowledgment I set to work at my computer. Within two hours I had a portable dialysis machine on hold, and someone to man the thing. My problem was the airlines. Because of cutbacks, the economy, the price of jet fuel, and general stubbornness of the higher-ups, no airline would donate the space on any of their commercial flights and definitely on none of their private aircraft. I was ground to a halt and getting progressively frustrated.

I slammed my palms down on the desk. "That's enough. Think Sasha."

My eyes drifted to the photo of Max on my desk then the one of me and Daddy Slade. I blinked and shook my head. "God, you can be so thick sometimes."

Considering the international nature of SI, they had several private jets on call for use. Surely one of them could be made available. I knew from his absence at home this morning that he was at work. With a breath to boost my determination I stood and rounded my desk.

"Any progress?" Mrs. Cusco asked.

I nodded. Halfway there. I'm going up to see if Dad might be able to grease the wheels on one of the items.

She looked over her glasses at me, but nodded. "Good luck."

I called the elevator and was surprised to see someone already occupying it when the door opened. There were a select few that had access to Dad's office which could only be reached by the private elevator. So, it was odd to see someone inside that I didn't know.

Remember those few perfect people I mentioned earlier? She was one of them. At least five-eight, black hair, brown eyes, perfect breasts, and an hourglass figure. She was older, but I couldn't really tell what age. Plastic surgery no doubt. The amount of diamonds she wore spoke of bragging, and the attitude bad, seeing as how annoyed she looked when the door opened.

Plotting eyes took me in as I stuttered in step and entered. The top floor button was lit and I had no question about who she was there to see.

Giving her a small smile I turned around and faced the door. Her eyes raked my body and we stood like that for ten floors. "Who are you?"

I turned my body to her leaving my feet where they were. "Sasha Petrovitch." I held out my hand and she looked at it, promptly ignoring the gesture. Okaay.

"Petrovitch? Are you Russian?"

"Serbian-American actually."

She rolled her eyes and faced forward again shaking her head. Something told me, I'm guessing here mind you, but something told me that she didn't like me.

I was just about to shrug it off when she stopped and her eyes went wide. The lady's head nearly swiveled off it's neck and shot to my left hand. "Where did you get that ring!"

My hand disappeared behind my back and I took a step toward the wall away from her. "Uh, none of your business, but it's my promise ring."

I thought she was going to have a coronary, maybe a stoke, definitely an antacid was going to be needed sometime in the near future. "Your…, I'm going to kill him."

The elevator dinged and she was out and through the glass enclosure in three seconds, tops.

My phone was in my hand a second after that. "Dennis. We might have a problem in Dad's office. Some crazy lady is threatening to kill him."

He chuckled. "Don't worry, Miss Petrovitch. She does that on every visit, at least once. Stephen is on his way up, just in case."

"Who is she?"

"You don't know her?"

"Nu-huh."

"Then it's not really my place to say ma'am, sorry."

"That's okay."

I hung up and made tracks through the door.

"She can't be out of high school yet, Maxwell, you perverted son-of-a bitch!"

"Hey!" I yelled. "You don't talk to him like that!"

She spun on her heel and faced me. "I'll talk to him any way I damn well please, you little gold-digging hussy."

"Olivia, stop. Sasha, it's okay."

Daddy was behind his desk and stood up.

"I already called security, Daddy."

"Daddy?!" Now she spun back around to him. "You make her call you Daddy?"

"Olivia, shut up!" He rounded his desk and pointed a finger at her. "This is what happens when you don't visit your daughter for a year. You get left out of the loop."

"Daughter… Maxine? What's she got to…"

Oh shit. She turned back and looked at me like I was standing there in a court jester's outfit.

"My daughter's a lesbian?"

Daddy shook his head, with eyes rolled up. "You're making an ass out of yourself, Olivia. Calm down. This is Sasha she is promised to Maxine, and the situation is more complicated than you realize."

Hitting my speed-dial I backed away, closer to the door so I could ensure privacy.

"Hey baby. I was just thinking about you."

That melted my heart for a split second before I remember Mount St. Olivia was about to blow. "Max, your mom's here in Daddy's office and she's about to do a Columbine."

"Oh crap." My sentiments exactly. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

Okay reinforcements were called. I just had to wait it out. A tap at the glass door made me jump. Oh, Stephen. I joined him in the safety of the atrium.

"Dragon lady on the warpath?"

I rolled my eyes. "She thinks that Daddy and I are promised." I held up the ring.

"Oh boy," he replied with dread.

"He straightened her out, but now she thinks Max is a lesbian."

Stephen shook his head. "Every time she visits it's something."

With an annoyed sigh I opened the door again. "She seems calmed down enough. I guess it's okay to go back down. Sorry for the drama."

"Anytime, Miss Petrovitch. You know that."

My heels clicked on the marble floor as I closed the distance between me, Daddy, and the hellbitch.

Olivia gave me an evil glare from the couch she was pacing in front of. "This is a farce. It's obvious that he's a boy. Your daughter is trying to marry a drag queen, Maxwell."

I was about to spout off, but Daddy beat me to it.

"Olivia, keep a civil tongue in your head or you can leave. I will not say it again." His voice was poisonous. Then in a lighter tone, "As far as obviousness goes, you thought she was girl well enough."

She stopped and crossed her arms under her implants. Okay, I was being a little petty. "I won't have Maxine doing this. I'll sue for full custody if I have to."

Daddy snorted. "Go right ahead. She's eighteen and has three days of school left, then she's on her own. Waste your money as you like."

After all of her insults, I just had to say something. "Did I do something to offend you? Pee on your Gucci knock-offs or something?"

"Sasha," Daddy warned.

"I'm sorry, Daddy, but she has no right to come in here and scream at you like a banshee. I didn't do anything but introduce myself and attempt to shake her hand."

He sighed, rubbing at his temples.

Olivia started to snap a reply back but Daddy held his hand up. "Was there something you needed sweetheart?"

I stepped around the couch and sat at one of the chairs so I didn't have to look at 'it'. "I went to visit Hammerton House, they're the ones that do the Make-a-wish thing for little kids."

He nodded his head that he remembered.

"There's a little seven year old girl whose wish is to go to see the Leaning Tower of Pisa because that's where her mother was born. She's on dialysis and you know all the kids there are terminal cases. I've arranged for a doctor and dialysis machine so she can have her treatments, but I've caught a snag with the airlines and the State Department. She doesn't have a passport and they want to wait at least two months to arrange one for her. That may be too late."

He anticipated my next request. "You want to use one of the corporate jets." I nodded. "Fine, have Franklin call and make arrangements for the jet."

He took out his cell and thumbed through the contacts list before connecting. "Bobby, Maxwell Slade."

"…"

"Fine, and you?"

"…"

"I need a favor. It's for a good cause. I'll let Sasha explain."

"…"

"I'm sure they'll send you an invitation, Bobby."

He punched a couple of buttons and transferred the call to my cell, so I made for the bar to give the divorced couple some privacy. "Hello, Bobby?"

"Sasha, Maxwell tells me you have a problem I might be able to help with."

I gave him Cynthia's story, as well as a little history of Hammerton House. "I don't see any problem getting this pushed through. Mind if we get a news blurb out of it? The administration needs all the goodwill press that it can get at this point."

I smiled. "No sir. Just let me know when and where and I'm all yours."

"Good, I like having positive things to tell the President in our weekly meetings."

I swallowed. He wasn't joking around. He meant the President of the United States.

Double checking the caller I.D. I realized that I was on with Robert Fitzpatrick, the Assistant Secretary of State, and Daddy and I just called him Bobby.

"Maxwell said that I might be able to squirrel a wedding invitation out of you."

That made me giggle. "Well, you have to get Max to propose first. But I'm sure I can do that when the time comes."

A warm chuckle came back at me. "Tell that girl to get a move on."

"Yes, sir."

"Listen, honey, I have to go, but I'll get my assistant on the ball. She'll call you with the details."

"Yes, sir. Thank you so much."

My heart soared! Checking my watch I realized that if I left now that I'd be seriously late for dinner. A quick call to Mama and I let her know I was on my way.

"Daddy I have to go. Mama's holding dinner for me."

He nodded and stood. "Everything work out with Bobby?"

I nodded. "He wants a goodwill news spot, but he said yes."

Surprised, Daddy pulled me into a hug. "Excellent work, sweetheart. He's getting something out of it, so he still owes me a favor. Well done. Not even married yet and Slade bartering skills are running through your blood. Always keep them owing you. That's how you reach the top."

I giggled and kissed him on the cheek… only because he leaned down where I could reach him.

I ran into Max on the way out of the building. "She hates me."

"Mom doesn't hate you. She doesn't even know you."

"She thinks I'm a drag queen."

Max's jaw loosened. "She said that?"

I nodded. "Look, it doesn't matter. Don't get in a fight with her over it. I'm serious. It's not worth estranging you and your mother."

She didn't look happy about it, but kissed me anyway. "You better get going or your mom's going to make you quit."

"I love you."

"I love you too, baby."

"Time and again, Sasha. I told you about working during the school year. I don't like this."

"I'm not working. I'm interning. I have to earn my own way."

"Which you can do soon enough, after school is over. There's nothing that you can do that that others can't."

"Mama, I made a dying little girl's wish come true today!" I said, trying to defend my tardiness. Not anyone else… me, because of who I am and the connections I have.

I just blew up all of her arguments in a neat little pile with that one line. "That's wonderful, Sasha. I'm glad that you were able to make a difference in someone's life, but you are still working yourself far too hard."

Her heart wasn't into it. Even she could tell.

"You always told me to do what I must. To make a difference in what I do. This internship is perfect for that. I'm beginning to make a difference. I did this mostly on my own. It was my first real case assigned just to me." I was rambling and I was hot.

Taking off my jacket, I laid it over the arm of the couch.

"Is that you Sasha?"

"Papa!" I ran over and gave him a hug as he emerged out of the bedroom.

"You're getting more beautiful every day."

After the kiss on his cheek I grinned cheekily at him. "Let's get you something to eat. I'm starved."

"Open the wine, Sasha," said Mama.

By the time we'd sat down I had the glasses full and was merrily filling my plate. "Max is coming over tomorrow night. I want you to find something to do with yourself before seven."

I stopped and looked up at Papa. The spoon in my hand started to shake. "Is it…"

He nodded once. "I assume so. Her request to visit was formal."

Dropping the spoon, I sat back in my chair and looked at the promise ring. Thinking about Max made my heart pound in my chest. Thinking about her asking Papa for permission to marry me had my face alight. "Papa, you have to promise not to give her a hard time. She will be very nervous."

"Sasha…"

"Papa, I mean it. I love her. She's everything to me. Without her…"

"Dusho moja, do not tease your daughter this way." Mama patted my hand. "I will be there, child. If he tries to be funny I will hit him with the dough roller. You know we love Max."

With a reluctant nod from Papa, I eased back in my chair. "I met Max's mother today."

Mama lifted her eyebrows with interest as she had her mouth full.

"She's not a nice person."

Papa pointed hit fork at me before stabbing a piece of meat. "She is Max's mother. You will be respectful."

In my defense I pursed my lips. "I was, Papa. I introduced myself and she snubbed me. Then she called me a drag queen."

He looked confused at the reference, so I explained. "They're like crossdressing showgirls. All big hair and really heavy makeup. Flashy gowns. They go over the top flaunting themselves in front of audiences. It's an act, for the most part, but still. I'm not a drag queen."

His chewing slowed and he looked at Mama, unsure about how to handle that news. Mama, like always had an answer. "People like this woman thrive on conflict, child. They see their insults hurt you and they are appeased. They provoke you in order to garner a response equally as caustic. Be above them in your replies."

"If I don't defend myself then she wins, Mama."

She shook her head. "There is no defense for hatred without cause. Ignore her, or better laugh at her attempts to draw you down to her level. How you present yourself in the face of idiocy says as much about your strength of character than a battle of insults with the bitter."

I poked at a potato on my plate, wondering if she was right. "So you're saying I should just stand there and take it?"

"No, a lack of response sometimes defines you as cowardly or ineffective. I am saying choose your battles. Who was witness to this scene?"

"Mr. Slade."

She spread her hands. "There, you see. The only person who matters in the room was the one person who seems to have supreme confidence in you already. What difference does it make if she makes a fool of herself?"

I shrug.

"Sometimes you are too proud, child. A better response would have been to ignore her and carry on with your business. It would have shown that she had no power over you and you thought of her as nothing. A greater insult to a rich person you cannot make."

I pictured the scene again and guessed what she would have done if I'd just ignored her and sat down to talk to Daddy like she wasn't there." Then I snorted.

Mama was right on the nose with this. I vowed to remember it for the future.

I wanted to write in my journal but I left it at home. Instead I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, thinking about the wedding and everyone we'd have to invite. Bobby Fitzpatrick wasn't the first powerful person that had expressed interest in attending, and I'm sure he wouldn't be the last.

We'd have to rent out a football stadium to seat all the guests at this rate. Anyone and everyone who was anybody wanted to get close to Maxwell Slade during a happy time. It was almost like watching The Godfather and I was the one getting married and Daddy would be sitting in his office with cotton balls in his cheeks. There were plus sides too. I couldn't imagine what the wedding gifts would be like with millionaires, billionaires, and politicians all trying to outdo one another to curry favor.

It was going to be a nightmare.

I'd definitely have to hire a hardcore wedding planner. Oh! I need to start looking through bridal magazines for dress ideas, and colors. And I need to find a Maid of Honor.

Groan.

Leaning over I turned on my lamp and swung my legs out of bed. I'll never get to sleep. The clock on my nightstand read eleven fifty-three.

"Sasha, wake up, child."

I dragged my eyes open. "Mama, it's Sunday," I whined.

"And you told me you were having lunch with Max and her father at the country club. It's already ten-thirty."

I bolted out of bed, straight into the closet, and into the sundress I chose for the occasion. Oh, I gotta pee.

"My eyes are swollen, Mama."

"Did you get any sleep last night."

I shook my head. "I was planning the wedding."

Mama rolled her eyes. "Have you and Max spoke of a date?" I shook my head as I reached for a teaspoon in the silverware drawer and an ice cube in the freezer.

"What are you doing?"

I rubbed the ice cube on the back of the spoon for about ten seconds and then set it on top of my eye. "The cold helps reduce the swelling. They'll be fine in about ten minutes. "

Mama sniffed. "In my day we used Preparation H."

"Eww, on your eyes?" I stuck my tongue out in disgust.

When the spoon had warmed I performed it a second time for my other eye. Who puts butt cream on their eyes. Gag!

"Sasha, don't you think you are exposing a little too much up top today?"

"Mama," I whined. "It's…"

"The fashion, yes, I know."

"Besides. It's retro too. They wore this style back in the eighties."

It was an A-line sundress with a sweetheart neckline and over the shoulder crossed in the back straps. A dark blue with pink flowers. It was really cute and it showed my best assets as a plus. The good thing was I got to wear my new fab strappy sandals. They were nude colored with all the straps wrapping around my ankle into a neat sliding hook thingie. I might have to learn how to drive again without heels. Gasp!

Mama didn't look convinced. "I didn't wear anything like that, and I know none of my friends did either."

"You were in Serbia at the time. They wore these in America."

Another thirty minutes and I was done with my makeup. There, I was sufficiently sexy for my girlfriend… soon to be fiancé! After swapping purses, I double checked to make sure I had my organizer, which I never went to the country club without. Then I was out the door.

Scarlett was purring along the road up to the main entrance before I realized I was going just a tad over the speed limit in order to see my sweetie as soon as humanly possible. I eased off the gas and noticed an old man giving me the evil eye as he was trying to putt or whatever it is they do at the place where they first hit the golf balls. I will never understand that game. However, it makes Max and Papa happy to go out each Saturday morning to bond and sweat. Ugh.

The valet opened my door and helped me out with a smile as a reward.

"Good morning Miss Petrovitch."

"Hi Jeffery. Are the Slade's here yet?"

He nodded. "They just arrived about five minutes ago."

"Excellent, cool." He opened the door for me. "Thanks Jeffery!"

I waved at the bimbo in the office that hits on Daddy every time he comes here, before making a beeline to the Outback Room where lunch was being served. As I saw the doors, I slowed and calmed my breathing. Mustn't look like I was rushing to see my girlfriend, even though I was.

The doors were wide open when I entered. I looked back to our regular table to see Max and Daddy… and It. The evil Monster-in-law was there. Max saw me and stood. I'm sure my feelings were written all over my face.

Warring emotions and thoughts were doing some serious battle in my head. This was Max's mother, the person who gave birth to the girl I love. Obviously Max received all of her genes from her father. Maybe she was the maid's love child and B'Olivia had nothing to do with her upbringing.

"Sasha, every single day, more beautiful."

My heart melted every time Max spoke. For her I would try to get along with It. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, baby."

She bent down and kissed the corner of my mouth. PDA's were frowned upon at Fallen Oaks. While we could get away with making out on top of the table if we wanted to, we toed the snooty line.

"I know it's a surprise, but she said that she wouldn't be rude for my sake."

I raised a suspicious eyebrow then nodded. "As long as she's civil then I will be."

"That's my girl. Thank you."

Taking her arm, she escorted me over to the table. When Max held out the chair for me I found myself sitting across from, It, and she was staring at my breasts. Hmph, mine were one hundred percent, Grade-A original, home grown. Top that.

"Olivia," Maxwell hissed.

She blinked and looked at her ex-husband with a nasty comment on her lips, but she held herself back.

"Mom, I want to officially introduce the girl that I'm promised to, Sasha Petrovitch. Sasha, my mother, Olivia Lambert." Max made a weird French sound of her last name, like it was pronounced Lam-bear.

It turned up the corners of her lips in a seriously bad mock smile, so I turned on the Sasha charm level to 'Eleven'. "Mrs. Lam-bear it's such a pleasure to meet you. I love your…" crap. I really didn't love anything about her, but I had to say something. "… earrings." In truth, they were gaudy. I mean how big do you need diamond studs to be. The one's she had in her ears belonged on actual rings. It seriously made me wonder who the gold-digger in the family actually was.

"Thank you, Sasha. You have impressive… implants."

Oh my freaking God. "That's it." Pushing away from the table, I stood up. "I'm done. Max I tried to be nice. You know I'm not a mean person, but your mother…" Shut it down, Sasha before you say something that you can't take back. Max and Daddy sat that while I seethed at It. "For your information, Mrs. Lam-bert, mine are totally real. Care to say the same about yours? And your earrings are ridiculous. Do the words 'nouveau riche' mean anything to you? Max, I'm out of here. Daddy, I'm sorry."

I'd almost made it out of the dining room when I heard a chair turn over and running footsteps. Max's hand closed around my waist. "I'm sorry, she promised."

"Well then she's a big fat liar."

She steered me over to one of the closed off dining rooms where we could have some privacy.

"God, Max. I know she's your mother, but…"

"She has issues."

"No shit."

Max smiled. "I won't ask you to be around her anymore."

"Good because it isn't happening. I'm not going to tell you not to see her Max. She's your mother. But me? No, no more. Never again, ever. If she's within fifty miles I want to know so I can find something else to do."

She cringed, and I could already see where that thought was leading. Max wanted her at the wedding. Well, that would happen over my dead body. A wedding was the one day that was all about the bride. She's expected to be selfish and demanding on that special day. And the bride was me. That woman would not be anywhere near my wedding. I'd hire snipers to surround whatever church we used just on the off chance that she'd show up.

In fact that would be the perfect wedding present. I wonder if the Director of the CIA would be invited. I'm sure he'd know someone that could do the job.

"Baby, you look like you're going to do something that I won't like."

Oops. My plotting face must have showed. "No, just fantasizing."

Max kept looking back to the door which made me frown. "If you want to go back and finish lunch then go, Max. I'm not going to come between you and your mother." I tried to sound noncommittal so I wouldn't give her a guilt trip, but I think that was too much of a stretch for me.

"I'm just keeping an eye out. As far as I'm concerned she's the one who put herself in-between her and me."

I looked down at the floor, wishing that this didn't have to happen. Why did people even care about other people they barely interact with. It's not like she lived in town and saw Max every other weekend. She lived in Europe and remarried. She has her own little family to terrorize, why bother us? "Max, why is she here?"

She shrugged. "Dad wanted to bury the hatchet between you two and made her promise…"

I shook my head. "No, not here here, here in the States. I thought she lived in… I was going to say Afghanistan, but thought that would be in bad taste, besides they wouldn't put up with a woman that mouthed off like Olivia Lam-Bert&Ernie.

"Paris," finished Max. "I don't know that either. She said she had some news, but never got around to telling us."

My shoulders dropped. "I'm sorry. You need to go back and talk to her."

"Not while she's acting like a bitch."

My eyes widened. "Max, you can't talk that way about your mother. She gave birth to you and raised you."

She snorted. "Don't kid yourself. The nanny raised me, and I spent a lot of time around Dad."

Hmm, maybe my 'love child with the maid' idea wasn't too far off the mark.

"Still. She's your mother."

Max's lips pursed. "I can't believe that you'd defend her."

I shook my head and paced toward the door. "It's not about her, Max. It's about family and the unconditional love that they are supposed to have for one another."

She came up behind me and slid her hands around my midsection. "You're my family and I unconditionally love you."

I swung my hair to the side and smiled at the feel of her lips on my neck. "I love you too. That's why I want you to go back and have lunch with your mother.""

She sighed in defeat. "What are you going to do?'

"Go home, update my journal. Make sure all my shoes are categorized."

She squeezed me and I set my arms on hers. "You're amazing. Did you know that?"

"I'm just realistic, Dusho moja."

With reluctance, Max went back to the Outback Room and I made my way to the exit. Jeffery opened the door and gave me a concerned look before shooting his eyes to the side. However, I didn't take the warning quick enough and stepped through the doorway. "Thank you, Jeffrey."

Olivia was standing there, waiting impatiently for her Doom-mobile so she could fly back to Latveria and continue her quest for world domination, hopefully. One thing I wasn't expecting was the pleased expression that she was sporting. That was until I finally put all the pieces together. I stood beside her and stared out into the beautifully manicured lawns.

"You planned all of this, didn't you." It wasn't a question. I already knew the answer.

"Of course. You didn't think I was ignorant of my daughter's life did you?"

I shrugged. "One could hope." Without missing a beat I added, "So, where to now? Off to the local childcare center to sacrifice some infants to your Lord Satan?"

I heard an amused huff of air. "I've been at this game for years, little boy. You don't actually think you're up for a battle with me, do you."

"Depends," I shot back.

Olivia couldn't resist asking. "On?"

"How much you actually care about your family. But I think you've made it painfully obvious that you don't care about Max's happiness."

Jeffery looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole to get away from us in case a full blown cat fight were to start. Thankfully for him, her car showed. A limo, of course. The desperate must have their flash.

The door burst open burst open before Jeffery had a chance to do his job for Max. She looked panicked, but saw that we weren't yelling at each other. I heard a loud sniff from behind me and turned around to see Olivia holding a embroidered handkerchief to her eyes.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me. You're not seriously going to think…"

"What happened?" asked Max with a little too much worry in her voice.

I rolled my eyes. "Nothing. Your mother is faking it. She thinks this is all a game. She knew about me from the beginning."

Max looked like she smacked into a brick wall. "Mom?"

Daddy appeared out of nowhere. "Olivia, I think it's time for you to leave."

When It looked back up at us, her red eyes were real enough. If I didn't know better I'd believe she was actually crying.

"Maxwell," she almost wailed. "This little gold-digger is after nothing but the Slade fortune. He'll destroy Maxine."

Daddy didn't look convinced. "If I believed that for a second then I wouldn't let her anywhere near our daughter. She's not the gold-digger in this family. Go back to Europe and leave us alone or I'll contest the divorce settlement. You know I'll win."

Olivia looked like she'd been slapped. Her mouth opened and the fake crying mask fell to reveal the hideous gargoyle beneath. The look made me swear to myself never to indulge in plastic surgery in the future. It did awful things to the eyes and mouth when you were upset. I almost expected her to ask, 'Why so serious?'

Max grabbed my hand and pulled me away. "Go home, Mom. I don't want you here." For once I didn't say anything.

Olivia's eyes tracked from Max to Daddy then back to me where they narrowed. "You'll regret this. Just you wait."

I looked up and around as briefly as I could. "Someone forgot to cue the ominous villain music."

"Sasha," Daddy warned.

"Sorry Daddy."

We retired back into the Outback Room when Bastinda left. I almost wanted to throw a bucket of water on her to see if she'd melt. For the life of me I couldn't figure out why she hated me so much. Was it because I was transgendered, or maybe she hated Daddy so much that she didn't care if she'd hurt Max during the execution of her revenge.

When we returned to our table, everything had been replaced like it was never occupied only five minutes before.

The waiter dropped by and verified that their orders hadn't changed while I asked for whatever soup the chef suggested and some bread.

Daddy look miserable, while Max had a thoughtful face.

"Sasha," Daddy started.

"It's okay. I was hated for absolutely nothing long before I met Olivia. It's not a new experience for me."

"It should be."

I smiled wistfully. "It's a pretty thought, but not realistic." When he didn't look too convinced, I set my hand on his. "I'm actually very surprised that I haven't encountered more. The people here at the club, at work, even you. I expected much more…resistance, I guess."

He looked a little uncomfortable and I instinctually knew that he'd had something to do with my acceptance. Probably sent out a memo at work and put it into the Fallen Oaks newsletter that he'd destroy anyone that crossed me. The man had the power to move mountains, of that I had no doubt whatsoever.

That look he had disappeared and I recognized the abrupt change in subject for what it was. "When are you going to Italy?"

I did a double-take which he thought was amusing. "Pardon?"

Max's attention was brought back into the conversation. "You're going to Italy?"

"I am?"

Daddy nodded. "You too, Max. Sasha has a little girl to escort to Pisa and you need to take a more active role in the company. An unannounced spot check in our Florence office wouldn't go amiss."

Max smirked. "And you can write the trip off as business."

"And charity as well. You and Sasha can stay at the villa near Florence for a week or so. Consider it a graduation present."

My tummy bubbled with joy. A whole week alone with Max in a villa in Italy. Wine, cheese, real Italian meats, a soft bed where we could…

"Sasha?"

"Hmm?"

Max grinned. "You looked like you blanked out there."

Thankfully, I was saved by the arrival of the waiter. Daddy spent lunch telling me about the museums, region, history, and the villa, all located in the Tuscany province. By the time we were finished, I wanted to jump on the nearest jet and make out with Max until we arrived.

Instead, we went back home and enjoyed the afternoon sun. Two weeks previously Max talked me into a bikini. Since it was at home in the privacy of our own pool I relented. Ever since, I'd taken advantage of every sunny day to bask. Jules bitched about the damage it was doing to my skin and upped my skin care treatments to three times a week. The good part was, my olive skin was noticeably darker, giving me a Mediterranean tan. I almost looked healthy.

That meant I had to change the way I did my makeup, but we all had a price to pay for trying to look beautiful for our loved ones. The fun part was having Max oil me down. She quite enjoyed the experience.

The last three days of school was almost anticlimactic. Wednesday, we were released early for good behavior, or perhaps the teachers were simply tired of looking at us and wanted to start their vacations that much sooner.

Max and I were going out to lunch to celebrate when I received at call from Mrs. Cusco.

"Hello."

"Sasha, you've just received a priority package from the State Department. Shall I open it?"

I nearly bounced in my seat. "Oh, yes! Bobby came through. Go ahead, Mrs. Cusco."

I heard some tearing in the background and Max looked at me from the drivers seat of the Corolla. "It contains a passport for a Cynthia McKinney, and a note that reads, 'Sasha, call me when you get this. Bobby.' Can I assume that your little side project was successful?''

"Uh-huh. We're leaving for Pisa as soon as possible. Daddy's making me go as an escort and so Max can check out the offices in Florence."

Mrs. Cusco sighed. "Making you go? Ah, the trials and tribulations of the rich and influential. My heart bleeds for you, Sasha."

I giggled. "Thank you for calling, Mrs. Cusco."

After telling Max the good news I called Hammerton House to speak with Cynthia. She was almost bouncing off the walls when I'd called her Monday afternoon to tell her about her leaving as soon as the passport arrived.

They connected me with Andrew instead.

"Sasha, it's good to hear your voice."

"Andrew? They were supposed to get Cynthia. Her passport just arrived and I've almost got everything ready."

There was a long pause and then he came back. "Sasha, I've got some bad news."

Ice dropped into my gut. "No," I whispered.

"Cynthia passed away last night in her sleep. I'm sorry."

"No… I've got the passport. She can't… I mean… she looked fine the on Saturday."

"It's the nature of her illness. Once the symptoms show themselves it's already too late for treatment. Her dialysis treatments make her look much healthier than she was."

"But…"

"She was very happy these last few days and that was all due to you, Sasha. You should be proud that you were able to bring her that joy in her final moments. Most of the children are too medicated to experience even that."

The lump in my throat was the size of a walnut and made it hurt to even speak. "When is the funeral? I want to be there."

"Saturday afternoon. I'll email the specifics to you." When I didn't say anything he decided to put me out of my misery. "You did a good thing, Sasha. I'm sure she dreamed of her leaning tower of pizza. I don't see how she could not."

"Thank you, Andrew." I thumbed off the connection before I could hear anymore.

When I looked up I noticed that Max had pulled off to the side of the road. Her hand was on mine.

"She didn't make it?"

I shook my head, dumbly. It wasn't until Max had unbuckled my seatbelt and pulled me to her that everything became too much.

I woke in my bed at home. Max was there with me and I was cuddled up comfortably to her body. The little place in my heart that Cynthia made in the short time that I'd known her was aching, but I'd survive. I was already recovered enough for my brain to start working again, planning how to make sure that another child's wish didn't go unfulfilled.

My life up until I met Max was one of pain costumed as one thing or another. Now it was a life of luxury. It was time that I brought the two together to find a purpose for my life.

"Baby, what are you doing?"

I looked over from my desk to see Max lounging sleepily on my bed. "Working."

I'd emailed Andrew and set up a meeting to brainstorm with him in order to find a way to speed up the fulfillment process. Cynthia had been at the hospice for two months. All of that time was wasted. She should have had her wish. Instead she'd had a dream, maybe.

Max stretched and made her way behind me, staring at the computer screen. "Wow, you're serious about this."

I had already made up spreadsheets and generated a proposal for Daddy. I wasn't going to ask him for the money which I knew he would give without a second thought. I wanted to earn it this time with a plan to use as little as possible.

The next morning, the meeting with Andrew supplied me with the particulars I was lacking for my report/proposal that I had worked on for most of the night. By the time I'd stepped off the elevator that afternoon to meet with Daddy, I was in my best suit and my hair was pulled back in the most professional way I could make it.

"Sasha," he smiled. "Maxine told me about Cynthia, I'm sorry we weren't able to act more quickly."

"Thank you." I sat down and crossed my legs. He eyed the bound proposal in my hands. Without saying a word he looked at me. Those Slade blue eyes that he and his daughter possessed, calculating what I was up to.

Leaning forward I set the proposal on his desk and pushed it toward him. It was a big desk. "If you would judge this on it's merits and not because of me, I would appreciate it."

His lips quirked to the side. "Merits alone would never have gotten you into this office."

"Greased wheels are a plus that I'll take advantage of, but this is something personal to me, so I want your business opinion to tell me if I'm idealistic or just dreaming."

He picked up the proposal and saw that it was about a quarter of an inch thick. "Grab yourself something to drink. This shouldn't take too long."

On my way back to the bar I heard Daddy tell his assistant to hold his calls for the next hour.

I made myself comfortable in the informal meeting area and pulled out my journal.

From the Journal of Sasha Petrovitch
May 26, 2011

Cynthia's death was a blow. Someone I knew, even briefly, died. It made me curious about a number of things that I'm sure people, over the centuries, have asked themselves time and again. Was there a God and if there was then was Cynthia with him? If there was, then why would he make someone that was so innocent suffer something so inhumane?

When I was younger I had a dog, Kibbles. She was my first experience with death. I didn't even really like her all that much, because she always used to chew on my shoes when I left them out of the closet. They'd be soaked in dog drool and little teeth marks were always noticeable in the rubber soles.

She's wandered from the yard one day when I'd let her out to pee and got hit by a car. I remember crying and thinking it was all my fault and that Mama was going to punish me when she found out. But Mama was just sad, for me. She told me that each life on the Earth serves a purpose no matter how short. Sometimes animals kill for food and are killed themselves in turn. Each serves a purpose. It was our job to learn from each life and each death and to not take any for granted, because the lesson we were suppose to learn made us the people that we were.

If we took their existence of something for granted then we would grow up to be wasteful, selfish, gluttonous, prideful, any number of sinful things. However, if we learned the lesson of each life lived then we would have a foundation of caring and responsibility to build upon.

Cynthia's lesson to me came from Mrs. Cusco. It only took until now for me to realize. Don't let your life be wasted in pity if it was in your power to make things right.

That's were I received the energy to complete my proposal this morning, after staying up half the night. I had the power to make things right. Maybe not with Cynthia, but with those that she maybe called friend.

End Journal Entry May 26,2011

That only took thirty minutes. A call to Bobby Fitzpatrick took the rest of the time.

I thanked him for his efforts and we talked about how we could turn Cynthia's tragedy into something worthwhile. By the time I saw Daddy shifting in his chair, showing me he was finished, I closed the call.

When I returned to my chair in front of the desk he had a serious look on his face. I wasn't able to read if he was in the positive or negative category.

"I won't let you use your settlement from Cypress School District for this."

I huffed. "Daddy."

"No, that's not negotiable. That's your money and it's earning some nice returns at the moment. There are reasons I set aside a certain amount for charitable purposes, and not all of the reasons are wholesome."

My lips thinned a little thinking that I was using Daddy to get what I wanted.

"I'll pass this through legal and accounting. If they approve your numbers then I'll back it."

I sat forward looking like I was going to protest.

"Sasha. I did as you asked. This is not because you are family. It's because I heard about what kind of affect it had on you from Maxine. I've been blessed with a healthy family and I have access to the best doctors in the world if anything should go wrong." He paused and looked thoughtful. "I couldn't imagine what I would do if anything similar were to happen to you or Maxine. What I do know is that I would move Heaven and Earth to make sure whatever you wished for would come true."

I relaxed into the chair as I saw his face change again, becoming more compassionate. "You come from a different background than I do. You've seen a lot of different things and experienced… well lets just say that you have a kind heart for someone that has gone through what you have. It would have made most people broken or jaded. The world needs more people that actually care about something other than themselves. That's why I'm going to do what I'm going to do."

Now he confused me. "What are you going to do?"

He grinned. "You'll see."

The elevator down to the third floor was a somewhat contemplative ride. I've already tried to figure out what makes Daddy Slade tick and every time I've come up wanting for an explanation.

Mrs. Cusco was talking in hushed tones when I arrived and made myself at home at my desk. From here on out I'd be seeing a lot of days here. As per agreement with Mrs. Cusco I was to start, fulltime, after school ended. Now I really would see what happens everyday. No more messing around with holidays or time snuck in here and there. It was my responsibility to make sure that the money SI allocated for charitable endeavors would actually make it to the people and businesses that actually needed it.

It was about an hour later when I was through with my first round of research on a potential new charity that Mrs. Cusco called me into her office and told me to close the door.

She didn't look too happy. "Is there some reason that you took it upon yourself to pull a Lone Ranger with Mr. Slade?"

"Pardon me?"

"Let me make something perfectly clear, Miss Petrovitch." Uh-oh, she never uses a person's last name unless she's seriously pissed. "When I agreed to take you on as my protégé, that was with the understanding that in a year you would take over this position and I could blissfully retire and move away to Iowa, in the middle of absolutely nowhere. That's where I could be virtually guaranteed never to receive calls like the last one I just fielded."

I cringed. Daddy hated the proposal and told Mrs. Cusco to fire me. He didn't want to do it himself. But why? I did all the work and I was even going to provide the startup capital. All I needed was the occasional use of the company jet in order to facilitate meetings and to ferry the patients to their wishes if needed. Most of the kids had simple wishes. Baseball games, or meeting a local celebrity. These were the things Hammerton House excelled in making come true. It was the biggies that they had problems with. Like Cynthia's Pizza Tower.

My hands balled up defensively as I drew in on myself and faced my punishment.

"I'm sure you can imagine my surprise when I receive a call from the Chairman and CEO of our company. He tells me you went behind my back, without the slightest indication of my approval and offered a proposal for an extension to the arrangement between Hammerton House and SI." Her lips pursed until they were almost white. "Do you know how long its taken me to work on the budget for my department? Do you know how long it takes for me to draw up each proposal and submit it through proper channels in order to actually get something accomplished? Do you?"

I shook my head.

She was seething, and then suddenly she relaxed in her chair and looked at her watch. "Well, not really too long at all. Everything's computerized now, I just have to input the numbers and it does all the work for me."

"What?"

She leaned forward. "I said my job is pretty simple. The hard part is finding suitable companies to work with and you already know how to do the research to filter out the bullshit."

I blinked at the sight of a sixty-five year old woman saying 'bullshit'.

"You, my dear Sasha had all of… what, eight hours, and you had a proposal ready for Mr. Slade?"

I shrugged. "About six."

"Uh-huh." She looked annoyed. "All of this without the use of our software as well."

"Yes, ma'am."

She sniffed, looking down her nose at me. "Good, I'm going home. The office is yours today. Do whatever you want."

I jerked up from my seat. "What?!"

She stood and closed down her computer. "Sasha. This job isn't about being smart, well that has something to do with it, but it's not the main thing that Mr. Slade was looking for when he hired me. He was looking for someone with a heart. And you, young lady, have that in spades."

"But… but…"

"But nothing. For the next month we'll let the assistants work on the research. That's what they're there for. You will be learning the annoying things, like departmental budgeting, interviewing, managerial things… come to think of it, Accounting and Human Resources can teach you that. I think I might retire even earlier than a month." She shrugged and grabbed her purse. "I'll think about it… at home."

She said the last with a smile and a wink.

When she walked out of the door I was still sitting there. "What just happened?"

My phone rang in the background. I raced as fast as I could in three inch heels to my desk. It was the intercom from the outer office. I punched the proper button. "Yes?"

"Miss Petrovitch. Arthur Langton from City Community College is on line one. Mrs. Cusco said you're in charge from now on. Um…" She sounded really uncertain about what just happened as well.

"Believe me Sheri. I'm just as confused as you. I'll take the call."

It was more work than Mrs. Cusco led on. Well, not work exactly. It was mostly talking on the phone and making appointments for inspections after they'd made it past the background checks. It was more nerve-wracking than anything else. I had to make decisions without Mrs. Cusco's approval. I was so afraid of making a mistake or saying something that I wasn't supposed to that I was a nervous wreck until five o'clock arrived and Sheri came into the office to tell me they were leaving for the day.

"Already?" I looked at my watch and blinked. It was only one o'clock about thirty minutes ago.

"Yes ma'am."

"Uh, okay. Have a good evening Sheri. Tell the girls I said bye, would you?"

She paused and turned back. "Is everything okay, Miss Petrovitch?"

I giggled. I actually giggled. "Sorry, yeah. It's just been a really stressful last few days."

"I knew Mrs. Cusco was planning on retiring next year. Did something change?"

"Honestly, Sheri. I have know idea what happened. But somehow I think I've just been shanghaied. I just haven't figured out exactly how at the moment." I shut down my computer and grabbed my purse. "Have a good night, Sheri. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight ma'am."

I wasn't even nineteen yet and twenty-somethings were calling me ma'am. Well, in their defense, they were calling me that before today so that hadn't changed. But the idea that my status had changed in the office in some way made me a lot more conscious of that honorific."

The private elevator dinged and guess who was inside. No, not It. "Hi Daddy, you're just the person I wanted to see."

Maybe it was my thin-eyed evil glare, or maybe it was my body language screamed, death, murder, mayhem when I centered myself in the elevator. But I could have sworn that Daddy backed away, close to the rear corner.

He cleared his throat.

It was only three more floors so I really didn't have time to get a full head of steam going. "You actually talked Mrs. Cusco into quitting?"

"What? No. How did you get that idea?"

I sniffed trying my best to imitate Mrs. Cusco image, but I think I was failing badly. There's certain things that you can get away with when you have gray hair and glasses to look over. "For some reason she says I'm in charge now. I can't for the life of me figure out why her plans abruptly changed."

The ding sounded and Daddy tried to make his escape, but I grabbed his arm in passing and insisted on being escorted to my car… at a nice leisurely pace.

"Daddy."

"Um, would you believe she's just found an unbeatable price on a large plot of land in Iowa, but she has to take advantage of it now?"

"No."

"I didn't think you would."

"Just tell me the truth."

He sighed, trapped like a rabbit. Have you ever heard a rabbit scream? It sounds exactly like those little chest monsters in Alien when they first pop out and screech at all the stupid humans that are standing around. Really. It's annoying and hard on the ears.

"It's a long story, sweetheart."

We reached my car and the last of his excuses all in one shot. "That's okay. I have to be at work early tomorrow morning. Coincidently the same time as you. So, I'll drive you home tonight and you can ride in with me tomorrow. That way you can take all the time you need."

His backbone started to reform, but wasn't quite there yet. "Weren't you suppose to be staying at your parents tonight."

"Plans change." I keyed the fob and the 'mother ship sound' rumbled from under Scarlett. I couldn't have timed that any better. Daddy's eyes actually widened.

From the Journal of Sasha Petrovitch

May 26, 2011

… It turns out Daddy had this planned from day one. I swear the man is Machiavellian down to the core. Mrs. Cusco was originally planning on retiring in October, marking her twenty years with SI. Daddy convinced her to stay through the year in hopes that I might be competent enough and have enough drive to do the job without mucking things up too badly.

The thing was that I had my epiphany a little earlier than planned. Accounting gave their approval of my numbers, Legal didn't have a problem with anything either. The proposal was too simple since it all hinged on me and my ability to annoy people until they do what I want. Since I had the ear of Maxwell Slade and his successor people would fall over themselves to donate things.

That's one of the reasons Daddy wanted me in this position. It would mean less resources would be taken away from SI and we'd be able to spread ourselves into even more areas. All for the cost of one jet and the fuel and maintenance to keep it up. In the world that is high finance it mean pennies.

The way he looked at it, I had already streamlined the department. The hour-plus long phone call to Mrs. Cusco was them discussing any further training I needed and when she would get to cut loose and let her hair down. A more disturbing image doesn't come to mind.

I told him that she said Accounting and HR could finish my training in topics of Management skills I lack, and to expect her to not be in a lot over the next month. Daddy, of course already anticipated this.

If I ever go to Vegas I'm taking him with me.

On the lighter side, Max is suppose to start spending a lot more time on the top floor with Daddy. She wrangled it to begin next Monday so she'd have the week to decompress from high school.

Tomorrow's the day: 249 days have passed since Max gave me my promise ring. I'm nervous and elated all in one emotion. This will make it official and then the race toward the wedding will begin.

Something just occurred to me. I'll be taking over as Department Head no later than this time next month. Probably sooner. And I have to plan a wedding. Maybe I need to invest in a good antacid. I feel serious stress coming in the near future.

End Journal Entry May 26, 2011

Daddy insisted I take the day off. Mrs. Cusco said I was an idiot if I didn't listen to Daddy since I'd be busy enough in the coming months. Max looked really nervous. All in all I thought it was building up to be a perfect day.

In a strange turn of events, Max bought me a sundress that was really cute. It had a full skirt, reaching down just past my knees and a bodice that covered a good portion of my breasts, leaving only a teasing amount of cleavage to temp my girlfriend. Pink flowers adorned most of the fabric and two simple thin straps dropped over my shoulders. She's also got me some new pink strappy sandals to go with it. I think three inch heels was becoming my signature footwear. The only jewelry for the day was a short pearl necklace and pearl earrings. Oh, and my promise ring, but that goes without saying.

Max wore khaki slacks and a white polo with brown loafers. Even in typical boy clothes she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever known and hopefully sometime today I'd be engaged to her.

We drove to the Strand, a set of shops down by the coast set in an antique setting, like we were walking in the 1800's or something. In the middle of the fake street -- it was blocked off on either end of the half mile of shops so no cars could enter -- she had me look up at the plane that was passing overhead. It was trailing a banner, and I thought to myself, 'this is it!' But it was advertisement for some stupid furniture store.

During lunch Max ordered champagne and I thought, 'this is it!'. I remembered my heart was racing when it arrived, there was nothing waiting at the bottom of the glass. At first I thought maybe the stupid waiter mixed up the glasses but after discreetly checking Max's as well, I was starting to have doubts. Maybe she forgot.

If there was one aspect of acting like a male I didn't want her to have then forgetting important dates wasn't one of them. I had so many organizers, computers, assistants and so forth to remind me that an upcoming event was imminent that it was pathetic. I'd hate to have to smother the girl that I love in her sleep if she forgot to propose.

A street violinist met us after we exited the restaurant. He was playing
'That's Amoré' for God's sake. This had to be it! Max just smiled and tipped the guy a twenty before we moved along.

She's forgotten. That's all there was to it.

We shopped for most of the day, and I tried to put it all in the back of my head. Max would remember in the morning and come to apologize for ruining the day and of course I would accept, right after I brained her with the bedside lamp.

We toured a couple of museums at the end of the Strand. It was nice but regional art just wasn't my thing. If it were ancient then that would be one thing. Hearing about Michelangelo's David in Tuscany from Daddy had me itching to see it, but viewing pictures of southern belles in their hoop skirts was rather boring. Plus my feet hurt.

When we reached the end of the tour, we only had one more room to view, I was more then ready to call it a day, go home and soak my body in a nice bubble bath.

The room was warmly lit and virtually empty except for one portrait.

"Wow, a whole room to himself," I commented on the artist. Something was odd about the picture though. You've seen those mirror pictures where the same image is displayed over and over, only progressively smaller each time? It was kind of like that, except it was a picture of the room we were in and a girl standing by that same painting holding her hand to her mouth and a man kneeling next to her on one knee. And the girl was wearing my dress. It almost looked like…

I spun on my heel and Max was on her knee. I felt like screaming, but all that came out was a strangled, "Eep!" And like the girl in the painting I was holding my hand over my mouth.

Max looked up at me. She was pale as words can't describe. "You know the really hard part about proposing when the girl you love is expecting it?"

I could even bring myself to shake my head. THIS IS IT!!!

"It's trying to be spontaneous. I've been thinking of a way to tell you how much I love you, reading books of poetry, watching dozens of romantic movies, talking to every married person I knew. The thing is, Sasha, that none of them came close to way I feel about you."

Warm tears trailed my face. I wanted to tell her I felt the exact same way, but I didn't want to interrupt her speech that I'm sure she spent eons on.

"I asked your father on Sunday how he proposed to your mother. He looked at me disapprovingly, you know how he always looks at me."

I grinned and almost giggled, but found the courage to nod quickly.

"He told me, 'Max, she knows you love her. Don't be stupid. Tell her you love her and ask her to marry you.' Your mother hit him with a rolling pin and told me to do whatever was in my heart."

Again I almost giggled at what Mama and Papa had to contribute.

"The thing is that your dad was right. I don't need flowery words to tell you that you're the most important person in my life and I don't want to spend another day without you. I want us to grow old and loving like your parents. Where family is everything. I want us to have kids and raise them with the same values that you were raised. I want you to be my wife, Sasha. I love you. Will you marry me?"

At the last second she popped open the small box she was hiding and held it up for me. I couldn't take it any longer.

"YES!" I dropped down on my knees and grabbed Max's face to give her the biggest most loving kiss I could manage followed by the world's longest and tightest hug, all the while whispering, "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. God yes."

I was full on blubbering by this point. Max took my promise ring off and replaced it with the engagement ring. I was mesmerized by the sight of the diamond solitaire, knowing that sometime in the near future it was going to be joined with a wedding band that would mean Max I would be together forever.

When I tore my eyes away, Max was dabbing at my cheeks with a handkerchief.

"I love you, Max."

She smiled and I watched as her eyes pooled before she kissed me again.

The end, for now.

Author's Note: Yes, I'm already working on the next story. Now I have to go make an organizer page for this. I'm sorry I have responded to very few reviews. My head is in a weird place at the moment and everything I write in response sounds bad. You really don't want to read it. But they are appreciated. Thank you.
Photo Credit: Kayleigh Hendricks
Author's notes 2: Before you complain that I'm not writing your favorite story. Would you rather I not release anything at all? Please people, think before you hit the enter button. Waiting to finish every story I write is killing any creativity I possess. I will finish them. Have faith.