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Notice: This is where Bailey's story begins. A few elements of this story are true, but it is mostly fictional. I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to comment, or send me a message. ~Taylor

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Part 1

My stepfather happened to be a genuine bastard. Sure, kids say it. Usually it's because he took away their favorite toy, or grounded them. Maybe he even kept them from doing things they wanted to do. However, my stepfather turned out to be different. He took away my dignity and kept me from having a normal life. I only hope he realized how much of a bastard he became, before he took his own life in prison. Perhaps I should give a little history.

In the Spring of 1985, the doctor slapped me on the butt, and I breathed my first breath through a screaming cry. I was given the name Zachary Emlyn Taylor. Though I looked like any other healthy baby boy, I had been born a bit different. I came into this world with hypogonadism, a syndrome that would cause me problems later in life, but somewhat irrelevant at this point in the story. The doctors had no way of catching it, so they assumed I would be like any other normal boy.

For the most part, I did have a normal life as a little boy. I got into trouble a lot with my older brother Justin, who had preceded me by almost five years. Together we wrecked things, and caused general mayhem. My parents loved me as much as any other kid. Through it all, I never knew I lacked anything. I raced through the toddler stage without any signs of trouble. For a long time there were no impending road blocks to my development, at least none that were visible.

Two months after my fifth birthday, my father, Kevin, died in a horrible car wreck. He left my mother, Susan, with a large amount of life insurance money, and my brother and I hefty savings bonds for when we turned eighteen. I loved my real father as much as a five year old could. It was hard for awhile for Justin and I to grasp the concept of our father never being there again, but eventually we moved on.

Perhaps I moved on a bit faster, because I really didn't fully understand it all at the time. My mother took a little more time, constantly crying herself to sleep, but when I reached the age of seven, she had begun to date again. She married my stepfather, Tom Walker, almost a year and a half later, and by the time I turned nine, he had made it his goal to ruin my life.

Aside from taking away the last name of my father, Tom's first move on the agenda was to show my brother and I tough love. To him this meant making fun of our physiques. Usually he would tell us to put some meat on our bones. He informed us that we'd never be taken seriously as real men if we didn't do extraneous labor.

In the course of the next several months we had helped him put a fence in, helped landscape by shoveling in tons of rock, and had helped him put up a shed and dog pen in the backyard. Through the course of each event, I personally was berated as being a sissy and told I needed to be a real man, because I couldn't keep up with them. My brother took it all to heart, and eventually would go on to lifting weights and playing football.

Eventually my stepfather found I couldn't put on a lot of muscle, and he started to take it easy on me. Though his form of taking it easy still entailed the berating comments. The sissy comments came more and more, especially when I decided to allow my hair to grow out. He insisted that I get it cut before school started. My mother liked it.

She put her foot down, and my bushy, curly locks of dirty blonde hair stayed. When it came time to start school, my hair had almost grown to chin length. I thought for sure my mother standing up to my stepfather would be the end of his torment. For a while it seemed that way.

It all started going downhill when I met Tiffany, my first girlfriend, (and I use the term loosely) in the sixth grade. At least once a week, sometimes two or three times, I would go over to her house after school. We would do homework, play games, run around her neighborhood, and basically it was just two kids having fun.

I loved spending time there - mostly to get away from my stepfather, as he would come home early sometimes - but my mother would always pick me up way too early. My mother didn't mind me going there. It kept me from being home alone for a few hours on most days, and she could get me right on the way home from work.

On one of my occasional trips to Tiffany's house, I noticed her painting her toenails a light pink. I remember it was barely noticeable against the color of her skin beneath, and it fascinated me. Why, I asked, would someone waste their time painting their nails to where it wasn't even noticeable? Only it came out in absurd sixth grade vernacular.

"Why do you waste your time with that?"

"It feels good," she responded. A few moments passed. "Would you like to try it?"

I'm sure her neighbors probably heard me say no, but she insisted she only meant to try it on her. I hesitantly obliged and soon found myself on the floor in front of her. She showed me how to apply it on a couple of her toes, and then handed the small brush and bottle to me. It felt like it took hours, but I carefully applied the nail polish to the rest of her toes. As I recall, she had the cutest feet I can remember.

As she cleaned up a few of my mistakes, she must have asked me three or four times if I'd like for her to paint mine. I turned her down each time, even with her assurance that the nail polish remover was right there. We sat and talked for a little bit, until she had me apply a second coat. Soon after I had to leave.

We never said anything about it, but over the course of the week to follow, I couldn't help but to look at her feet and know I painted her toenails. It was a tiny little secret we shared. I'm sure she caught me looking several times, because the next time I went to her house, she broke out the nail polish first thing and asked if I wanted to paint her nails. I showed perhaps too much enthusiasm as I took the tiny bottle from her.

She disappeared into the bathroom, and walked out barefoot several minutes later. After we both were settled, I began the painstaking process of painting her toenails the same light pink as before. The only difference was that I felt more comfortable the second time, and I think she did too. In fact I felt so comfortable with our new closeness, that I stole a kiss on each one of her feet. At the time I don't know why I did it, as we hadn't even shared many kisses on the lips. However, she seemed happy that I did it.

This little ritual of ours went on for several months. She would allow me to paint her toenails almost every time I went to her house, each time insisting that I finish with a kiss on each foot. We used different colors, but she had a fondness for pink. So for the most part we would go through the different shades of pinks.

Every so often I would watch her paint her fingernails to match. Though she offered to let me do her fingernails, I declined with too much fear that I would screw them up. I never told anyone about our little ritual. I was afraid people would get the wrong impression. It just wasn't something little boys do for playtime. So it continued, about once a week, until close to the end of the school year.

I must've been really bored one day. Tiffany sat in front of me. Her feet rested gently upon my folded legs, and her toenails sparkled with a fresh coat of hot pink nail polish. She seemed bored as well, because I remember her staring outside her back door. It was the tail end of December, and too cold to do anything outside.

Either the boredom got to me, or the sheer power of persuasion, but after a bit of pleading, she finally got to me. I agreed to let her paint my toenails. At first I chose the light pink color that wouldn't show, but she seemed upset. She revealed she wanted to paint mine to match hers. I looked at the little bottle of hot pink polish, and reluctantly agreed. I could always take it off. I uncrossed my legs, as she pulled at my socks. After a few quick rolls on the legs of my jeans, she was happily at work.

The feeling surprised me at first. It was strange, but not as bad as I thought it would be. In fact, it actually felt good, as she had put it earlier. It felt as if my nails had an extra bit of protection. We sat in silence as she applied the first coat. She seemed to be having fun, and so I didn't put up much of a fight.

I watched her cute innocent face contort into a series of varying degrees of seriousness. Her long black hair had been tied out of the way into a ponytail, but short strands of it fell past her face. Then my eyes fell on her painted toes sitting so very close to my own feet. Each toenail she painted soon mimicked one of her own. Before long she had finished, and her voice snapped me back to reality.

"Do you want me to take it off, or would you like a second coat?"

"I don't see how another coat would hurt."

Tiffany smiled brightly. After a few minutes of drying, she once again set about painting my toenails. When she finished she asked if I wanted my fingernails done. I quickly declined her offer, thinking we'd gone far enough for the day. She still seemed happy, and put her cute little toes next to mine to compare. We spent the rest of the afternoon lying on her bed playing videogames. Our feet up in the air behind us, with matching hot pink toenails.

From then on, our ritual changed. Every time I would go to her house, before we did anything, I would paint her toenails, and then she would paint mine to match. Then I would thank her by giving each of her feet a kiss. Though my polish would be quickly removed before I went home, I could tell she still enjoyed doing it. She seemed a bit sad that mine had to go, but she understood. After our ritual, we would do our homework together, and then goof around for a bit. The entire thing brought us closer together.

Eventually she asked if I could get away with wearing nail polish until I saw her again, and I took the challenge. My only failsafe was my mother's nail polish remover, but I could try to pass it off as my girlfriend getting bored, if I ever got caught. My stepfather and brother most likely wouldn't let me live it down, but I took the chance anyway. It seemed to work, and before long Tiffany had me wearing polish fulltime on my toenails. She would change the color every time I went to her place. I constantly had to make sure it wasn't seen at home.

Summer came fast, and I convinced my mother to let me spend entire days at Tiffany’s house. She would drop me off before work, and pick me up after. What I took as my mom being entirely trusting at the time, turned out to be her way of spoiling me because of the way my stepfather treated me. Only then I was a kid, and really didn't think that deeply about it. What started as a hot summer, turned into one of the hottest on record, and on the last day of June it became almost unbearable.

One day, a Monday in particular, the heat had gotten to us, and we both developed a bit of cabin fever. On that same day, we had just finished painting each other's toenails bright pink. I watched her happily as she painted her fingernails to match. Not wanting to venture outside, I could hardly think of anything inside that seemed worth doing. We had gone through all of our usual options. Television, movies, or video games didn't suit us that day. Neither one of us felt like running around the house.

So there we were, sitting in the kitchen. Our bare feet exposed hot pink nails to the world, and she was putting a final coat on her fingernails. I watched her for what seemed like hours. Tiffany had pulled her hair up into a ponytail to keep it out of her way. She really did look cute. Her face glowed with a certain innocence and youth. While not much could be said about her body, she had started wearing bras, and showed signs of breast growth. Her legs were a bit skinny, but nice, and again, she had the cutest feet.

"I really want to go swimming," she said.

"I don't have any trunks."

"You never bring any."

"I swear I'll bring them next time," I said. "And besides, you already painted my toenails. I can't go like this."

Tiffany looked down at my hands. "Then at least let me do your fingernails."

I thought about it for a long moment, as I watched her finish her own. I'd always turned her down, but it didn't seem less enjoyable than painting my toenails. If it kept her mind off of going to the pool, then perhaps it would be worthwhile. It could always come off.

"Fine," I said. "And I promise I'll go to the pool with you next time."

"Great! But they need a little more work," she said, getting up to leave the room. "I'll be right back."

After several minutes had gone by, Tiffany returned with a small case. I sort of panicked when she started pulling beauty supplies out of the case, but I knew she wouldn't do anything permanent. First she took my fingers one at a time and trimmed them a little. I honestly didn't care about keeping up with my fingernails, so they'd grown a bit the past few weeks. While I pondered about that, Tiffany had set about filing each nail into an oval, and roughing up the tops.

"I hope you don't mind me doing all of this."

"Whatever takes your mind off of the heat."

Tiffany smiled, and continued to work on my nails. After filing them, she buffed them to make them look smoother. Then she put on a coat of clear polish, which she said was a base coat. I had absolutely no idea what this meant, but she claimed it filled in the rough spots on my nails. When several more minutes had passed, Tiffany had started painting each fingernail bright pink to match my toes. She got up to put her beauty case away between coats, and left me there alone at the table. Finally I heard footsteps on the wood floor behind me.

"I was starting to think you got lost," I said.

A familiar, but unexpected voice rang out behind me. "You know, that really is a good color on you."

I turned quickly in my chair to see Tiffany's sister, who apparently had come home early from her summer job. Tiffany's sister, Kate, was five years older and would be a senior in high school in the upcoming school year. Where Tiffany was cute, Kate was gorgeous. She had long slender legs, a nice pair of breasts, and her face looked like that of a budding model. Something about her being the one to catch me doing something I deemed as close to being forbidden, made me feel even more embarrassed. Tiffany entered the room, and brushed past her.

"We're just messing around," I said.

Kate followed her sister over to the table and sat down between us. "Tiff really did a number on you."

"We got bored," I said, with a bit of nervousness in my voice.

"He wouldn't go to the pool with me," Tiffany said. "So I'm painting his nails." She started another coat as we continued to talk.

Kate laughed lightly. "You two act like this has never been done before."

"Well it's the first time I've done his fingernails," Tiffany said. "Most of the time he won't let me."

"Really?" Kate sat up, and seemed a bit more intrigued. "My boyfriend lets me do it all the time." She gave me a teasing, and somewhat taunting look. "You should be more open."

"I'm open!" I retorted.

"We can't think of anything to do today," Tiffany said.

"Well I planned on working all night," Kate said. "But it was slow and they didn't need me at the restaurant."

"You wanna take us to the mall?"

Kate looked at her sister. "I don't want to go anywhere. It's too hot."

"Let's go check the TV again."

I felt Tiffany's hand wrap around my right wrist. She pulled me from my chair, and we made our way into the living room. We reached the couch, and she pulled me down to sit next to her. Nothing seemed interesting, as she flipped through the channels. It was a bit early, and there were only soap operas and talk shows on. The fun channels all had reruns of shows which ran relentlessly, so most of them were watched hundreds of times.

Kate walked in with some bottled fruit drink. I watched her settle into a chair, which somewhat faced us. She feigned interest in our channel surfing, and even commented on which shows were good or bad. However, she didn't demand we stop on one she would be interested in. I was used to that from my brother. He'd deliberately want to watch something I had no interest in, even though I had been at the television first.

"There is nothing on," Tiffany said. She pressed the power button on the remote, and tossed it to the side.

"Board game?" Kate asked.

"More like bored game," Tiffany said, mocking her sister's suggestion. She gave off one of those disgusted princess sighs, and collapsed on me.

Kate looked at both of us, shaking her head. "I honestly don't know how you two make it through the day."

"I'd rather be bored here," I said. "Than be with my stepfather at home."

Kate gave me a concerned look. "He doesn't hit you or anything, does he?"

"No," I said. "Nothing like that."

"He's just a jerk," Tiffany said.

"How so?" Kate asked.

"He runs me down constantly," I said. "His latest thing is saying I'm too small to be a real man."

"That's awful," Kate said. "I mean, you're small… but you're like twelve."

"I think he's the perfect size," Tiffany said, while patting my chest.

"According to him, I should be more like my brother."

"Your brother?" Kate laughed. "No offense, but your brother can be a jerk sometimes."

"Trust me I know." I put my cheek down on top of Tiffany's head. "I hope he grows out of it. He used to be nice."

"I bet your stepfather would go crazy if he saw you with painted nails," Kate said with a laugh.

"I've been doing his toes for months," Tiffany mumbled. "Hasn't got caught yet."

"Wait," Kate said. "You mean you keep your toenails painted?"

"Yes," I said. "It's sort of a secret thing we do."

"We make them match."

Tiffany slipped her left foot behind my right foot, and lifted it in the air for her sister to see. Kate pushed out of her chair. She walked over to get a closer look. I watched her take Tiffany's ankle in her left hand. Then I felt Kate's right hand around my right ankle. She held our feet up close together, and carefully examined them. After a moment she let us go.

"You two have more in common than toenail color," Kate said. "Your feet almost look identical."

Then it dawned on me. This whole time I had been admiring Tiffany's feet, I had never seen the similarities. Suddenly I knew the reason why I liked her feet so much. We had the same feet. Not only that, but we had other things in common. Tiffany and I were both about the same size. I was only about an inch taller than her.

Here my stepfather nitpicked constantly at sissy aspects of my physique, and now I realized why. I had the body of a twelve year old girl! Did she see all of this in me as well? Was this why she tried to get me interested in girly things? I suddenly became very self-conscience, thinking about all of the months of painting nails and even taking those dumb tests in her magazines.

My mind raced. The whole sixth grade had to listen to a lecture about puberty, and I had gone with the other boys. However, with my condition, I didn't really match up with most of the other boys. I definitely didn't fit with the girls. My mother spent the rest of the night explaining everything to me, but that left me even more confused. Her infamous "some little boys develop faster than other little boys" line didn't quite put my mind at ease.

For some reason, I never had seen myself in either gender role, and I had constant reminders of not fitting in. Kids teased me at school, my stepfather and brother teased me at home, and now I felt my girlfriend had been taunting me with it the entire year. Now her sister saw something different about me too. Kate smiled at me. Something was different about it with these two. Why didn't I hate them for it, like I did the others?

While I thought about all of this, Tiffany held her foot up next to mine. I couldn't help but look at her foot. It seemed almost exactly like mine. As I played a bit of footsy with her, Kate flopped down on the sofa on my other side.

"You know," Kate said. "I wonder…"

"What?" I asked, ready to jump on the offensive.

"Well you wear her nail polish," she said. "Maybe you can wear some of her shoes."

"Maybe," I said.

"Would you like to?" Kate asked.

"Wear her shoes?" I gave her an awkward look. "For what?"

"Just to see if they fit," Kate said. "Maybe some other things."

"I'm curious too," Tiffany said.

"I don't know…"

"It would give us something to do," Tiffany said.

"Indeed," Kate said.

I sat and thought for a moment. When our feet and legs dropped back down again, I suddenly realized how big of an ass I'd been. All month long Tiffany had been begging me to go to the pool with her, but I had kept her from it. It was like I had been keeping her from enjoying her summer. Something about what they wanted to do, made me feel embarrassed and a bit resentful. I may have let it show a little.

"They're just shoes," I mumbled.

"I hope I didn't upset you," Kate said.

"You really didn't say anything hurtful," I said.

Tiffany sat up, and looked at me. "Are you mad?"

"I'm not mad," I said. "What do I have to be mad about?"

"You sound kind of mad," Tiffany said.

"I'm just thinking is all."

Tiffany poked me in the arm a few times. "Thinking about what?"

"I'm thinking I could've gone swimming, and let you have more fun this summer," I said.

"I've had fun," Tiffany said. "You're fun to be with."

"Well…" I glanced at Kate and then faced Tiffany again. "I thought, if it'll be fun for you at least…" She batted her hazel eyes, and I couldn't resist anymore. "I can try it."

Kate faked clearing her throat. "It was my suggestion."

"Can Kate help?" Tiffany asked, looking at me.

"Help me put on shoes?"

"No!" Tiffany jumped from the couch and looked at both of us. "She can do your hair and makeup!"

"What?"

"You said you were open," Kate said with a grin.

Before I could protest, Kate and Tiffany had stood up, and both girls were dragging me down the hallway. We ended up in Tiffany's room. Tiffany sat next to me on the bed, and Kate exited the room, leaving me alone with her. She put her hand in mine and flashed me a smile.

“Are you nervous?"

"I'm kind of embarrassed," I said.

"You don't need to be embarrassed in front of me."

"It's not you so much," I said. "I feel a bit awkward around your sister."

"Because she's older?"

"Well there's that," I said. "But I think she's pretty."

"She is pretty," Tiffany said, with a hint at sadness in her voice.

"Well you are too," I said.

Tiffany blushed. "Thanks."

Kate returned with a small bag. She had changed out of her work uniform, and now had on a yellow t-shirt with short jean shorts. Her tanned legs seemed to go on forever down to her bare feet. Though her toenails weren't painted, her feet were immaculate. I imagined kissing them like I had kissed Tiffany's so many times before. Everything beautiful about Tiffany, had been amplified five times in her sister.

"You can look at me," Kate said. "You don't have to stare at my feet."

My eyes shot up to look at her face. "I…"

"He probably wants to paint your nails," Tiffany said. "He thinks you're pretty."

"Really?" Kate said. "You think I'm pretty?"

I blushed and nodded. "Yes."

"Well maybe you can do my nails later." She walked over and sat next to me on the bed. "Right now I'm going to put a bit of makeup on you."

Kate adjusted herself to where she had one leg up on the bed, and the other hanging over the side. She faced me, and I think purposefully rested her foot against my thigh. For the next several minutes she brushed out my wavy blonde hair. I watched her open up several clips, and felt her place them in various spots around my head. It felt strange getting this much attention from an older girl, and it ended all too quickly.

"He should probably change first," Tiffany said, as she got up and walked to her dresser. "I'd rather makeup get on my clothes than his."

"Probably right," Kate said. "But what's he going to wear?" She looked at me with a smile. "Take your shirt off sweetie."

"I'm sure I can find something," Tiffany said. "Wish we had time for everything."

I did as Kate asked. It felt weird to peel my shirt off in front of an older girl. She fixed a bit of my hair that got messed up in the process. Tiffany came up behind me, and took my shirt. Soon she had me putting on something else over my chest. I soon realized it was one of her bras. My arms went through the straps and then she closed it in the back. Kate helped her adjust the straps on my shoulders.

Tiffany prompted me to stand up. Kate gave a playful tug at my jean shorts. She smiled and gave me a quick wink. I unbuttoned my shorts and unzipped them. Then I felt Tiffany pulling them down, and I released my grip. She helped me step out of them, and I stood before both girls with nothing but underwear on. Tiffany handed a pair of white cotton panties to Kate, who in turn handed them to me. I'll never forget the provocative look she gave me.

"You can step out in the hall if you'd like," Kate said.

"Thank you," I said.

I scurried out into the hallway. Tiffany closed the door behind me, to give some extra privacy. After a quick breath, I dropped my underwear. I stood for a lingering moment with the soft white panties in my hands. Looking down at my bright pink fingernails and toenails, I figured this wouldn't hurt too much, even if I had to wear more. I took a deep breath and stepped into the panties.

"Don't forget to tuck your… you know."

My face turned red as I followed Kate's advice. I thought for sure these things were going to feel different, but I realized they weren't much different than what I had on. However, I felt different. I really couldn't explain it, but they felt better, or at least made me feel better. The two girls beckoning to see me, prompted me slowly, but surely, to come back through the door.

"Too cute," Kate said, still sitting on the bed. She waved me over.

"I can't wait to see the rest," Tiffany said. She seemed gleeful as she took my underwear and put it with the rest of my clothes.

I walked over to Kate. She patted the spot on the bed in front of her. So I got up on the bed, and sat facing her with my legs crossed. After pulling several things out of the bag, she lifted a circular container toward me. It had a mild pinkish red caked powder in it, which she dusted over lightly with a large brush. Then she lifted the brush to my face, and brushed across each cheek with it. I felt the soft bristles tickle my nose for a slight moment. She slapped the container shut and put it to the side.

The next thing she picked up was a square container with a few mixed shades of powder. Kate collected a bit of some light gray on a small brush. She tapped the brush on the container, and lifted it up to my face. I looked at her unknowingly. When she saw my expression, she decided to start explaining about everything.

"This is eye shadow," Kate said. "I need you to close your pretty blue eyes."

I shut my eyes, and felt her move the brush a few times over each lid. She then went back over it a bit lighter, fanning the shadow out to where she wanted it. Her closeness to me, and her light touch, excited me a bit. Even if this stuff had to come off in a few hours, and I never did this again, being this close to Kate seemed worth every second.

"The first thing I put on was blush," Kate said after a moment. "I'm just doing light makeup so it's not too hard to get off." I heard her snap the container shut and open another. "This is some powder to help give you a softer look. You really don't need it with your baby face, but I'm doing it for fun." I felt a large brush go over every inch of my face. "Ok, you can open your eyes."

When my eyes opened, all I could see were Kate's gorgeous green eyes smiling at me. I remember thinking at that moment about how I would kill to have an older sister like her. She always seemed so nice and understanding. Tiffany never complained about fighting with Kate, and I couldn't recall a single time when Kate had been unpleasant. I couldn't stop staring at her, and she had an amused look on her face as she stared right back at me.

"You ok?" she finally asked. "You're not gonna run out of here screaming are you?"

"I'm fine," I said. "I was just thinking it would be cool to have an older sister like you."

"Aw…" Kate gave me a cute sad face. "I think I'm gonna cry."

"That was like the sweetest thing I think I've ever heard," Tiffany said. She had been busying herself by running around the room collecting things for me to try on.

"Anytime you want a big sister, you can come to me."

"Or if you want just a sister," Tiffany said. "I'm here too." She chose this time to come over and sit next to me on the bed.

"Thanks you two," I said. "I feel kind of embarrassed to say it, but I'm actually enjoying this."

"Don't be embarrassed around us." Kate held a tube of lipstick up. "I know it's easy for us to say that, but if this feels good, or even natural to you, then by all means you can talk to us about it."

"I honestly don't know what to think about all of it," I said.

"I think you look kinda cute with makeup," Kate said.

"Not sure his stepfather would agree with you," Tiffany said.

Kate glanced at her, then looked back at me. "You seem to get upset when your stepfather is mentioned."

"I'm just used to being treated a certain way," I said.

"How so?"

"My stepfather constantly is calling me names." I looked down at Kate's bare leg. "Like sissy, girly boy, cupcake, even powder puff." For some reason I couldn't look up at her, like I felt she had hurt me with those words I just said. "He doesn't think I'm turning into his idea of a man."

"I'm sorry," Kate said.

"Me too," Tiffany said.

"Why should you two be sorry?"

"Well…" Tiffany looked down. "I didn't know all of that was going on. I just thought you enjoyed doing certain things."

"To be honest, I really do." I looked at her until she looked up at me. "I like the nail polish, but mostly because it's a secret we share. Then eventually it started to feel good."

"Did we go too far with the makeup and underwear?" Kate asked.

"I don't know anymore," I said. "At first I found it kind of hurtful that you two wanted to do this, but I’m having fun now, or at least I was before this conversation." I gave them a feeble laugh.

"We can still have fun," Tiffany said. "And we can always stop talking about your family." A slight laugh followed. "If it's too much though…"

"Tell us if it's too much, and we'll stop," Kate said.

I shook my head. "That aside, this isn't horrible."

"Have you ever thought of dressing up, or going places as a girl?" Kate asked.

"I don't know…"

"I'm not asking because I'm gonna make you," she said. "I'm just curious."

"I'm afraid of getting caught," I said. "It's fine here, but what if word got out…"

"You're probably right," Tiffany said. "Would hate for someone your parents know to see you like this."

"If at any time you want to do this," Kate said. "I suggest you stay inside."

"Agreed!" Tiffany said. "But you're gonna need a girl's name."

"She's right," Kate said. "Zach just doesn't work both ways."

"How about Missy?" Tiffany asked.

"That sounds too much like someone's mad at me," I said. "Like look here missy."

"I always liked Bailey," Kate said.

"I kind of like that too," Tiffany said.

"Then Bailey it is," I said with a smile.

"Well then Bailey," Kate said. "I'm going to show you how to apply lipstick."

Kate held the tube of lipstick up, and pulled the cap from the top. I watched her twist the tube until the lipstick spiraled up from it. Then she spread it slowly across her upper lip, and put a liberal amount on her lower lip. She squeezed her lips together and moved them back and forth. When she ended the process, her lips were coated in a hot pink color.

"This is the closest one I had to match your nails," Kate said.

She then pulled up a tissue, put it between her lips and blotted them. Afterwards she put on another coat, repeating the same process as before. When she had finished she gestured for Tiffany to come closer. Tiffany crawled around me and sat adjacent to Kate and I. Kate took the lipstick and applied it to her sister's lips. Then handed her a tissue to blot, and reapplied another coat. Seeming satisfied at the results, Kate then handed the lipstick to me.

"Here's a mirror if you need it," Tiffany said, holding up one of the small circular containers.

I took the lipstick in my right hand, and what I later learned was called a compact in the other hand. For the first time since this all started, I got a glimpse of my makeup and hair in the mirror. Some part of me expected a comical look from two girls having fun, but I was pleased with what I saw. Kate had really done a nice job on the makeup and hair, and made me look like a young little lady.

I moved the mirror down so I could see my lips, and held the lipstick up. While I tried my best to emulate what Kate had shown me, Kate had set about applying my same look to Tiffany. The blush gave her rosy cheeks, and the gray eye shadow on Tiffany made her pretty hazel eyes look amazing. By the time I was ready to blot my lips, Kate had brought out Tiffany's eyes even more with some eyeliner.

I worked on my second coat of lipstick, and watched Kate give Tiffany thicker lashes with some mascara. Then she filled in her eyebrows with a pencil, making them a little more pronounced. When Kate had finished, Tiffany looked several years older. The transformation seemed amazing to me, and I couldn't help but stare.

"Would you like me to do that to you too?" Kate asked.

I nodded silently.

Kate took my chin and gently turned my head to face her. "You'll have to hold still." She held up the eyeliner. "Keep your eyes open, and look up."

I did as she asked, and soon felt her carefully penciling in eyeliner on the edge of my eyelids. When she finished with one eye, she let me blink a few times, and then applied eyeliner to the other eye. Kate took her time with the process, being very careful around my eye. She waited a few moments after she finished, to let me get used to having control of my eyes back. While I did this, she filled in my eyebrows with light gentle strokes from a pencil.

"Now keep facing me, but look down at all of our pretty feet," Kate said. "Try not to get too excited."

"He's blushing," Tiffany said with a giggle.

"Because he likes feet," Kate said. "At least pretty feminine feet."

Indeed I was blushing. Once it was pointed out, I couldn't stop blushing. Tiffany scooted back, and put her feet in my lap. The entire time Kate put mascara on my lashes, Tiffany wiggled her toes under my gaze. Kate had pointed out something which I had probably been in denial about for a long time. I think I did like girl's feet.

"I do tend to notice girl's feet a lot," I admitted.

"Of course you do sweetie," Kate said. "It's only natural." She closed the mascara and put it aside. "It explains why you like to paint Tiff's nails, and probably why you wanted her to paint yours." She used her finger to blend the pencil into my eyebrows. "You wanted to copy her somehow, and now…" Kate turned my head to face Tiffany. "You match."

"He…" Tiffany said. "I mean… she, is so cute."

"You're cute too," I said. "And you even look older."

"Yeah, you both do," Kate said. "But you're both missing something."

Kate removed herself from the bed and walked over to the dresser. When she came back, she had several socks with her. She rolled up a couple into a ball, and pulled my bra forward to stuff it in on one side. Then she rolled up two more socks and put it in the other side of the bra.

Tiffany clambered forward, nearly ending up sitting in my lap. She quickly peeled her shirt off. Kate shook her head at her sister's audacity to take her shirt off in front of me, but rolled up some more socks for her. Tiffany put them in her bra and fidgeted with them, while Kate fidgeted with mine. Before long, both Tiffany and I had a set of breasts comparable to a girl Kate's age.

"And there we have Bailey," Kate said.

"We're sisters!" Tiffany said, throwing her arms around me in a big hug.

Kate walked back to the dresser and pulled out some navy blue tights. She tossed them to Tiffany. Then I saw Kate pull out another pair of white tights. Tiffany pushed herself off of the bed, and pulled her white knit shorts off. I watched her for a moment start to put on the tights, until Kate blocked my view.

She pulled at my legs until I let them hang over the side of the bed. Then she gathered the material in a bunch on one leg, and stooped down to slip it over my left foot. After repeating the process on my right foot, Kate began to work the stretchy material up my legs. She had me stand when she reached my knees, and continued to pull the tights up to my waist. I'd never had any sort of form-fitting clothing on my entire lower body before, and it felt strange. With Kate being the one to put them on, it also felt a bit embarrassing, but the experience wasn't altogether unpleasant.

When Kate finished putting the tights on me, she stood and went to the closet. This left Tiffany and I staring at each other. She flashed me a pleasant smile, and I couldn't help but return one of my own. Then a bit of awkward silence filled the air as Kate rummaged through the closet. Tiffany looked almost as pretty as her sister, and almost the same age.

Most boys would kill to see a girl in their underwear, whether they were older or not. However, I didn't feel the same about it as other boys would have. Tiffany was my girlfriend, but to a sixth grader that really didn't mean what it would for older people. I had kissed her a few times on the lips, and hugged her, but really those were the only two things we had above and beyond being good friends. In fact, we had long stretches of time where we were just close best friends. That day in particular, I felt more like her brother, or sister, than her boyfriend.

Kate moved away from the closet, and handed us both a white, short sleeve Peter Pan blouse. Tiffany put the shirt on, and took a moment to admire how her new "breasts" looked in it. I watched her for a minute as I slipped my arms through the somewhat puffy sleeves. The ends of the sleeves rested about an inch above the middle of my upper arm. My eyes trailed away from Tiffany's body, and down to the buttons of the blouse. I wasn't used to the buttons being on the other side, and I had to look at what I was doing.

By the time I had finished buttoning the blouse, Tiffany had already put on a pleated, dark red and navy blue plaid miniskirt. Kate came over to me, and stooped down. She held a pale blue miniskirt in her hands. I remember it being ultra feminine in design. It had a lacey, almost crochet hemline, and a white band across the waistline. When she helped me step into it, and started to pull it up my legs, I could tell it consisted of a light weight summery material.

"That's one of my favorite skirts," Tiffany said. "But I only get to wear it for special occasions." She walked over to us, and handed Kate a pair of white dress sandals.

"Well now Bailey gets to wear it for a special occasion," Kate said, smiling at me.

While Kate helped me into the open-toe sandals, and strapped them on my feet, Tiffany came over and put some clip-on earrings on my ears. She wasn't allowed to get her ears pierced until high school, so she had quite a selection. These were simple little light blue hoops, which matched perfectly with the skirt. I imagined she wore them with it all the time.

Kate finished putting the sandals on my feet, and I could make out my pink toenails under the white tights. I instantly went from five foot nothing, to being two inches taller, and felt like I was looking down on Tiffany. It was short-lived, however, as Kate brought out a pair of dark red Mary Jane heels for her sister. They had a three inch heel on them. So when she stepped into them, we were the same height. When Kate stood up, we found we were merely three inches away from being as tall as her.

"You girls look adorable," Kate said. "You have to let me take some pictures."

"Can we do like a catalog?" Tiffany asked. "With poses and different outfits."

"That sounds fun," Kate said. "I'll get my camera." She paused to look at me. "If it's ok with Bailey that is?"

"I'm fine with it," I said. "As long as it never leaves this house."

"Agreed!" Kate said, and left the room.

"This will be fun!" Tiffany said, gushing with enthusiasm. "You go on into the living room, and I'll get some outfits together."

I took a few careful steps to get used to the heels, and proceeded from her room toward the living room. When I passed Kate's room, she seemed busy trying to get her digital camera and a few other things together. She didn't notice me, so I kept walking down the hallway. Eventually I ended up in the living room alone. I stood there awkwardly until Kate came to join me.

"I thought we could do a few solo shots," Kate said. "Why don't you step over to chair and sit first?"

Following her advice, I moved over to the chair. She demonstrated for me to smooth my skirt out before I sat, and I tried my best to adhere to what she showed me. Kate moved about me, having me sit up straighter, and on the edge of the chair. She had me put my knees together, and cross one foot behind the other. Then she fussed with my hair, told me to put my hands in my lap, and lastly told me to smile.

Kate snapped several photos of me in the chair, and then had me stand. Tiffany came in with an armful of clothing, and went back for more. While she was gone, Kate took several more pictures of me. She adjusted my pose on numerous occasions, and had me stand in various spots. Tiffany came back with a few more garments, most of her sock drawer, and I think every pair of shoes she owned.

"Ok, take a break," Kate said, turning to leave the room. "I'll be back to take shots of the two of you together."

"Are you having fun Bailey?" Tiffany asked.

"At first I thought I'd hate it," I said. "But so far I'm having a blast."

Kate came back with her camera. Soon she had me posing with Tiffany like we were catalog models. She had us do funny poses like Tiffany was telling me a secret, or another time Kate had her kiss me on the cheek and I acted surprised. We changed outfits at one point, and I exchanged my skirt for a black jumper, and my white sandals for black penny loafers. Tiffany changed from her outfit into a dark red dress, still dawning the navy blue tights and dark red Mary Jane heels. She was taller than me for the next few pictures.

After a few more shots, Kate had to go empty her camera again onto her computer. These were the days before memory sticks started popping up for everything, and Kate had spent her own money on it, wanting to be a photographer later in life. As a twelve year old kid, I thought she was pretty good. Then again, I was also completely infatuated with her after today's events.

While Kate was in the other room, Tiffany had me do another wardrobe change. I put on a pair of rose colored jeans and some lacy white socks with a pair of white sneakers. She had me keep the same top on, because she thought it went well with the outfit. Tiffany put on blue jeans with a glittery design of butterflies going up the outside of her right leg. A green no sleeve top, and black ballet flats finished off the look. She had kept the navy blue tights on underneath the jeans.

Kate came back and seemed impressed with the new outfits. She snapped several shots of us in various poses, then sat and waited for us to change yet again. Tiffany kept her green shirt on, but lost the jeans and shoes. She put a simple white cotton skirt on and stole the white sneakers from me to complete her outfit. I started to take my jeans off, and Kate stepped over to me.

"I think Bailey should keep this shirt on still, but go back to skirts," Kate said.

"He can wear my original skirt," Tiffany said.

She handed me the plaid skirt she had on with her first outfit, and I took it in my hands. Kate retrieved a pair of black Mary Jane flats for me, while I stepped into the skirt. When I had pulled it up, and was busy fastening the buttons on it, Kate stooped down and helped me step into the shoes. Then she stood back up and again started taking more pictures.

Kate only took a few pictures of us in these outfits, but decided she wanted us to try something more summery. So Tiffany took off her entire outfit, and put on short jean shorts and a yellow t-shirt. She finished the outfit with a pair of yellow flip-flops. My "summery" outfit consisted of a short black skirt and a white top with a blue butterfly across the bust line. I again finished the outfit with Tiffany's black ballet flats. Kate seemed to like both outfits, and finished out her memory on the camera with several pictures.

While Kate went back to unload her camera again, Tiffany handed me some light pink tights and the white skirt from her previous outfit. As I busied myself with putting these two items on, Tiffany changed into red tights, and used the black skirt I was wearing. She finished her outfit with a red tank top and stole back her black ballet flats.

When Tiffany had finished, she helped me into a light pink sweater over the top I had on, and had me step into the white sandals from my first outfit. Kate entered the room and again approved of the wardrobe selections. She snapped about twenty more pictures of us, until she grew bored by the same background.

"The living room is getting a bit boring," Kate said.

"We could try the backyard," Tiffany said. "Unless Bailey doesn't want to."

"I'm fine with it," I said.

"Well great," Kate said. "But I suggest you two find something to wear that won't make you catch on fire out there."

Tiffany and I laughed. We kicked off our shoes and started shedding our tights. I pulled the sweater off over my head. Kate handed me a hot pink t-shirt, and I replaced the top I had on with it. By the time I had finished, Kate was holding a black tiered skirt for me to step into. I stepped into it while Tiffany kicked over her black ballet flats to me. Once again, I slipped my feet into the flats to complete my outfit.

I watched Tiffany put on a pale pink sleeveless top, and the same white skirt we'd both worn in previous outfits. She put on a pair of white ankle socks and slipped her white sneakers onto her feet. Kate fixed our hair a bit, and messed with the outfits. When she was satisfied with how we looked, she told us to go on out while she got some shoes.

When you're younger, things like heat and humidity might slow you down a bit outside, but for some reason they never really kept you from venturing outside. Sure, some days no kid in their right mind would want to run around in weather nearing triple digits, but on that day both Tiffany and I forgot completely about it. We were both too excited to be playing our little game, that we took the abuse in stride.

I remember spending what seemed like hours out in the summer sun that day. Tiffany and I posed in about a thousand different poses, and Kate must have shot more than double that in pictures. She went in several times to unload the pictures onto her computer, and would return to take more.

During maybe her fifth return trip, we all started getting a little rowdy. I remember Tiffany saying something to the effect that I made a better girl than a boy. It was said in jest, but I ended up chasing her around the yard. Kate took pictures of us the entire time. Eventually our chasing each other ended up in the side yard, and concluded in the front. That's when things got extremely bad for me.

My stepfather's car was parked in the driveway, and my brother stood at the front door. Apparently he had been waiting on someone to answer the door, but none of us heard it from the backyard. At first Justin didn’t recognize me, but then his mouth dropped when he saw Tiffany chasing me. Kate had caught up with us at about the time my stepfather exited the car. His hands slammed down on the top of the old 1988 Chevy Caprice.

"What the hell are you doing?" my stepfather said, a little louder than needed. "I've been sitting out here waiting for you, and you're running around in skirts?"

Justin glanced at Kate, and then looked away from us all. He walked back down the steps toward the car. I imagine he had a thing for Kate, but he never said anything about her. They really never talked to each other, aside from him dropping me off on occasion and her being home. Kate had said he came in to eat sometimes where she worked, but seemed absorbed with his newfound football buddies. My stepfather's voice rang out again only a bit angrier this time.

"Get your ass in the car!"

"But my things are inside," I stammered.

"I don't give a damn," Tom said. "You get your ass in the car. I told you we had things to do today, as soon as I picked up your brother from practice."

"But these are Tiffany's clothes."

"You can give them back to her later. I'm not going to ask you again."

I watched Justin turn and give me a knowing look, which I understood to mean something along the lines of getting my butt spanked when I got home. If I dragged this out any further it would be worse for me. When I turned to look at Tiffany and Kate, they had a look on their faces like they had just ruined my life. I figured whatever happened couldn't be that bad. It might bring some sort of punishment, and even more berating comments from my stepfather, but it wouldn't be the end of the world.

"I'm sorry Tiffany," I said. "I have to go."

"I hope you'll be okay," Tiffany said.

"Don't try my patience, Zachary," Tom said. "You got ten seconds."

"You better go," Kate said.

"Don't worry about the clothes," Tiffany said. "We'll deal with it later."

Tiffany gave me a tight hug, and a kiss on the lips. Kate gave me a nervous smile, trying to make it all seem not so bad. Then I turned and walked down the short hill to my stepfather's car. He shook his head at me, and my head dropped. I waited for him to get back in the car. Justin reached over and opened the back door for me. This surprised me and I looked at him with a questioning look upon my face.

"Just holding the door for the lady," he said in a sarcastic tone.

"Shut up Justin."

Tom leaned over to the passenger window. "Both of you get in the car. Now!"

It didn't take long for my stepfather to pull out of the driveway, once my brother and I were both in. I waved to Tiffany and Kate, before dropping my head back down to look at my borrowed skirt. For a few blocks there was silence, save for the air conditioner blowing on full. Justin stared out the side window.

"What the hell are you doing dressed as a girl?" Tom finally asked.

"We were bored, and they convinced me to play dress up," I said.

"I really don't get you kids today," he said. "All of you city boys are sissified, and don't know a damn thing about what it means to be a man." He looked at Justin. "At least your brother's doing something manly in his spare time."

"We were just goofing around," I said.

"Well couldn't you find something else to do besides letting them dress you up like a sissy queer?" He looked at me in the rearview mirror. "I mean hell, we have to go to the hardware store and my faggot stepson is dressed like a little girl."

"I'm not gay," I said with some anger.

"You sure as hell could fool me then!" He shook his head. "I told you we had to fix the dishwasher today." He looked at my brother. "Hell… we could just have little sissy prissy pants back there wash them instead."

I stared out my window while the inside of the car erupted in laughter. Several degrading comments followed, both from my stepfather, and from my brother chiming in. By the time we reached the hardware store, I'd heard about every insult imaginable. It finally ended when we pulled into the parking spot, and my stepfather turned off the car. He turned to where he could see both of us.

"I can't have you going in there like that," he said. "People in there know me."

"I'll just sit out here then," I said.

"Like hell you are." He reached into his back pocket and got out his wallet. "Since you want to dress like a little girl, I thought of a good punishment for you." He handed me a twenty dollar bill. "Go next door to Wal-Mart and get yourself some panties."

My brother snickered in the front seat. I looked at my stepfather. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," he said. "Get enough for a week or two."

I took the money from him. A look of trepidation spread across my face. "Do I have to?"

"Yes you do," he said. "You want to dress like a little girl, you're going to start wearing panties. Now get going. We'll meet you back here."

I shook my head, but this seemed to make him angry. For a moment I thought if I made a scene he would just drag my butt home and ground me. He sat there staring at me, but I didn't want to look at him. It was moments like this one I really loathed the man. If I didn't do what he said, I knew I'd pay for it later.

"Justin go on in to the hardware store."

My brother didn't argue. He exited the car and left me alone with our stepfather. I felt like he had abandoned me. His car door slamming shut seemed like him shutting me out of his life. It occurred to me at that moment, that I really didn't know my brother anymore. Kate had been right about him, but I still hoped he would change.

"I can't buy panties," I said, but I was met with silence. "Please don't make me."

"You better make sure they're your size, or I'll be bringing you back to exchange them."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"To make damn sure you remember this moment to never do this again."

"I won't do it again," I said. "We were just goofing around this one time."

"Well your one time bought you the rest of the summer in panties," he said. "And since you're being so damn stubborn, get yourself some pink nail polish to go with them."

"But I promise I won't do it again."

"I'm really losing my patience with you," he said. "You have less than a minute to get your sissy ass out of this car."

I reached for the handle of the car door. My eyes pleaded with my stepfather. He gave me a stern look that showed he wanted me to get going. So I did. I pulled on the handle, and pushed the car door open. Since I didn't have any pockets, I clinched my fist tightly around the money as I slammed the car door behind me. As I stormed towards the front doors of Wal-Mart, I could hear my stepfather exiting the car.

My mind drifted to the point in time where I held Tiffany's panties in my hands. I had stared at them for a long time before putting them on, and I tried to recall what the tag said. Since this was all new to me, I had no idea about styles or any of that, but I remember the tag saying medium with a seven, a slash, and an eight. Little did I know that this would be the first of many times I would be confused about female sizes. They all seemed Greek to me.

This wasn't all that confused me. When I reached the women's section of clothing, they had three different areas. I didn't have a clue what the difference was with women's and misses. Based solely on the assumption that Tiffany wasn't a misses size yet, I chose to go to the girl's section. My choice was rewarded, because the first thing I laid eyes on was a package that said "Medium 7/8" on the top. It had an assortment of different panties, twelve in all, and they were bikini style.

I took the find as a sign they were set aside for me, and gathered the package in my hand. It really didn't matter to me what style or even brand they were. I just wanted to get the hell out of there fast. The only problem with that, was that I wasn't done with my list. Surprisingly the panties were only eight dollars, so I had about that much to spend on the other item.

After a somewhat long walk across the store, I found myself in the cosmetics department. Specifically I had ended up on the nail polish aisle. I looked at the light pinks, thinking maybe I could pull one over on my stepfather, and make the polish barely noticeable. However, his threat of bringing me back to exchange stuff made me rethink that notion. If I had to wear it the rest of the summer, I might as well have some fun with it. I decided to get a few shades.

The first one I chose was the lightest pink they had, almost a match to natural, in hopes he would let me get away with it. Then I picked out a bright hot pink, almost neon, thinking he'd make me come back and get it anyway. I looked in the bargain bin and picked out two shades of Bon Bons, one in an in between shade of pink of the two I had, and another in a light lavender. For some reason I thought I may want to mix it up some.

When I got to the checkout line, I was so pissed thinking about my stepfather, that I became determined to spend the entire twenty dollars. I picked up some bubble gum at the counter, which brought my total to within ten cents of my goal. The gum inadvertently would start me down a long habitual path of obsessive chewing, but for the time being it satisfied me to spend all of his money.

Without much fuss, and with no second guesses from the cashier, I paid for everything and took off for the exit. I dropped the dime of change I got in some sort of charity box, and continued out into the parking lot. My stepfather and brother were still in the hardware store, so I went to the car and waited by it. For several minutes I stood by the car, under the hot summer sun. He had locked the doors, so I couldn't even get in. I made the best out of the situation and pulled out a piece of gum to chew on while I waited.

Eventually the two of them came out of the hardware store. They walked over to the car, and without a word my stepfather got inside. He unlocked Justin's door, and Justin unlocked my door and let me in. I got in, put my bag in the seat next to me, and buckled up. We sat for a moment after my stepfather started the car, to let the air kick in a bit. Justin was completely silent, and it was my stepfather who broke the silence first.

"Did you bring me back change?"

"I didn't have any," I said. "It was all pretty expensive."

"You went in for two things," he said in disbelief. "How'd you spend a twenty?" He turned to look at me.

"Well…" I said timidly. "My panties were almost ten." I was interrupted by my brother laughing at my last statement. "Shut up Justin!" I kicked at his seat.

My stepfather slapped the back of my brother's head. "You keep laughing at your brother, and you'll be getting your own." He turned back to me. "What about the rest?"

"I didn't know what kind of pink polish you wanted me to get," I said. "So I got a few shades…" I looked at him with a bit of sadness in my eyes. "I didn't want to go back."

"Well I'm still pissed you spent it all," he said, turning back around. "I'm glad you had enough to get yourself some damn gum."

"It was only fifty cents," I said, defending my purchase.

"Remember that when you want your allowance next week."

I sat back in a huff, and folded my arms across my chest. For the entire rest of the car ride home, I stared out the side window and didn't say a word. Justin and my stepfather talked about football, and how great Justin's practices were going. This met with my stepfather making a comment that maybe I should be a cheerleader. I ignored them after that, for the most part, but caught a confession from my brother about how he thought Kate was hot. In more ways than one, I feared what would happen when we got home. Not only that, but I feared what the rest of the summer would be like.

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To Be Continued...
 

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Part 2

I was amazed at how one innocent afternoon of fun could put my stepfather, Tom, back on my case about being a sissy. Not only did he begin his berating comments again, but now he pressed the issue until it became a burden. I followed him and my brother, Justin, into our small house, stopping at the middle entryway area of our split level stairs to close the front door behind me. Part of me expected my stepfather to start slapping me around, though he had never done anything beyond a firm spanking. The other part of me feared the dynamic changing in my relationship with all parties involved.

For a moment I stood and watched Tom and Justin walk up the stairs to the living room. The air condition vent next to me blew my borrowed black tiered skirt around. I had been caught by my stepfather and Justin at my girlfriend Tiffany's house, playing dress up in her clothes. It was her skirt that swayed atop my bare and hairless legs. I stood in her black ballet flats and her hot pink t-shirt. Everything on me was hers, from the makeup and hot pink nail polish, to the matching white cotton panties and training bra I had on underneath.

All of the attire would have been agreeable to my stepfather, had it not been on a twelve year old boy. It had all started as a game with Tiffany, but turned out to be the beginning of a long punishment from my stepfather. The punishment began with the contents of the bag in my hand. They were things he forced me to buy.

When he started thinking up my punishment, he had me purchase my own panties. I bought an assorted pack of twelve, so I had thirteen in all with Tiffany's pair. He also had me purchase my own nail polish, which he claimed I would be wearing for the duration of the summer along with my new panties. I started to think of how I could live out the next two months, when I noticed my stepfather turning to face me at the top of the stairs.

"I don't want you changing before your mother gets home," he said. "She needs to see this."

"Well I can't help with fixing the dishwasher in these," I said. "I'll ruin Tiffany's clothes."

"Like I need a woman's help to fix something." Tom said. "Why don't you go wash your new panties?"

I knew it was a rhetorical question. Tom laughed as he turned to head into the kitchen. My brother walked back through as I was climbing the stairs. He looked at me with a confused smirk, and shook his head. It was one of those you're-up-shit-creek-without-a-scented-paddle looks. By the time I reached the top of the stairs, my brother and stepfather were busy at work in the kitchen. I started to head back to my room when I heard my stepfather yell.

"If you change your clothes I'll beat your ass to where you can't sit for a week."

I continued on down the hall to my room. Over the years I had learned not to take my stepfather's threats lightly. So I decided to do exactly what he suggested. I took the package of panties out of the bag, and tossed the rest of my purchase gently onto my bed. When I picked up the panties from the store, I was so nervous that I hardly looked at what was in the package. Faced now with ample time to investigate what I bought, I ripped the package open and spilled the contents onto my bed spread.

My eyes beheld the vibrant colors before me. Two pairs each of plain white and light pink, were quickly cast to the side. I held a red pair for a few seconds, running my fingers over the material. Though they all were one hundred percent cotton, they felt lighter and silkier than my plain old male briefs. They also had a bit of a lace design on the waistband. I tossed the red pair, along with a darker pink pair, on top of the white and light pink pile. Then I moved a pair of peach and a pair of lavender to the solids pile.

The other four pairs of panties consisted of an array of different patterns. One pair was royal blue and teal in horizontal stripes about an inch wide. Another pair was white with multicolored pencil thin horizontal stripes. There was a pair of light blue ones with light pink flowers all over them. The final pair were white with pink and lavender dots. I picked these up to read the instructions for washing them.

While I read the tag, it became increasingly obvious that I would have to hand wash each pair. Even though they said machine wash was okay, none of them really had like colors except for the dual pairs. I figured I could wash the whites with the pair of Tiffany's I was wearing, but the rest were gonna take a bit of time. At least I would have time to think of what I would say to my mother. Not to mention I would be alone, away from my stepfather and brother.

A few minutes later I was in the bathroom with my arms full of panties. I turned the water on at the sink, and quickly cleaned the basin. Then I switched the water over to cold, plugged the drain, and added some Woolite to the running water. I decided to put the red and dark pink pair in first, and let them soak.

While the first pairs soaked, I stared at myself in the mirror. Kate, Tiffany's older sister, had done an awesome job with my makeup. I looked about three years older, perhaps four. At any rate, I didn't look like someone about to start junior high, but someone well into high school. Not only that, but I looked extremely feminine. I really hadn't taken in the entire effect at Tiffany's house, as we had been having too much fun.

My almond shaped eyes seemed bigger, and their steely blue color really exploded beneath the smoky gray eye shadow. She had made my already thin eyebrows appear to taper off at the outer edges with the makeup pencil she used. My lips, which had always been a bit on the pouty side, appeared filled out more, and the natural bow shape I had on top looked more pronounced. Even my small bell-shaped nose looked different with blush on it. Combined with the blush on my cheeks I looked a bit flushed, almost blushing. The makeup and powder, she put on the rest of my face, made my face appear smooth.

I turned my face a bit. The clips Kate had put in my hair glittered in the light. Where she had placed them, turned my otherwise boring chin length hair, into something flirty and fun. My wavy hair fell in various spots all over, while it was lifted in other spots to give a bit of a layered look. Somehow my hair, along with the makeup, tricked my eyes into thinking my slightly square jaw line had been rounded out a tad.

Something about the way I looked and felt at that moment seemed right, but an overwhelming sense of trepidation came over me when I thought about what my entire punishment would be. My eyes dropped back down to look at my new panties soaking in the sink. These could be just the start. I felt certain that Tom had it in for me.

After watching the tiny bubbles pop and disappear for a few minutes, I reached down and pulled the plug from the drain. As the water ran out of the sink, I recalled the way my mom dried her own delicates. I reached under the sink and got an old dark brown towel out. I spread the towel out on the front of the sink. Then I rinsed both pairs of panties with cold water, until I felt the detergent had been sufficiently washed out.

I gave both pairs a gentle squeeze and set them on the towel. Next I rinsed the sink basin a bit, and plugged the drain back up, being sure to add some more Woolite. I decided to put the light blue with flowers in with the blue and teal striped pair, and then added the lavender pair in, thinking those would be ok to wash with them. While the sink filled, I busied myself by rolling the red and dark pink pairs up in the towel. I turned the water off, and then gave the towel a gentle twist, leaving the first two pair to dry a bit, and the next load to soak, as I left the bathroom.

When I sneaked down the hall a bit, to check where my stepfather was, I overheard him talking to my brother about me. He mentioned something to the effect of my brother keeping an eye on me, and to tell him if I ever dressed in girl's things again. Great! Now I'd have that to worry about. It was bad enough we both had to worry about all his low-life buddies telling Tom when Justin and I did something wrong. I felt like I had no privacy even running around with my friends.

I walked back down the hallway to my room. There I picked up my bag from Wal-Mart, and pulled out all the nail polish I bought. My stepfather's punishment wouldn't be absolutely horrible, as I kind of enjoyed painting my nails. However, his promise to make me have them painted all the time, didn't sit well at all. It would be okay around Tiffany, if I ever got to see her again, but around my male friends was a different story. I carefully placed each bottle of nail polish on my dresser.

I pulled out my gum from the bag, and realized the gum in my mouth had lost all flavor. I spit it into the bag. Then I opened up another piece and put it into my mouth. Chomping into a fresh piece of strawberry bubble gum felt relaxing. I tossed the package up on my dresser, and tossed the wrapper in my bag. I wadded the bag up, pretending it was my stepfather's head, before tossing it into the garbage can on the way to check on my panties.

It took some getting used to, thinking about the panties being mine. At the time I bought them, I thought it would be a horrible punishment to wear panties for two months. However, the more I thought about it, the weirder it seemed that my stepfather had me purchase panties. If anything he would cut girly attire out completely as punishment, if he thought I was wearing it on purpose. I shook it all out of my head as I stepped into the bathroom.

My reflection in the mirror still shocked me. I was a pretty little lady, so far removed from the cute little boy. At least my mother always referred to me as the latter. Tiffany thought I was cute, and though I didn't have any self-esteem issues, I didn't think I was ruggedly handsome like all the other boys. Even Kate thought I was cute, but did they both think of me as cute in the effeminate way? That to me was the million dollar question. It was a question I didn't have an answer for at that time in my life.

I unrolled the old brown towel on the countertop, and removed my first two pair of panties. I set them aside. Then I pulled the plug from the drain, and rinsed the next three pairs out. Again, I gave them a quick squeeze, and placed them in the towel. Next I rinsed the sink again, and filled it for the last load of light colors. As the sink filled up, I rolled the panties in the towel, and gave it a gentle twist. Before leaving the room, I put the two light pink pairs in with the peach pair, and added the multi colored striped pair and pair with the dots.

After turning the water off, I exited the bathroom with my five clean pairs. I went to our small laundry room, and set them on the counter in there. While I was looking around for clothespins to hang them to dry, I heard my mother coming in the front door. She was a little late getting home, but way too early in my mind. I heard her not so subtle, but soothing, voice carry up the stairs.

"I need Zach or Justin to come help with the groceries."

"Zach go help your mom," my stepfather's voice came from the kitchen.

What a bastard! I was hoping for a subtle sit-down-and-bring-me-in type reveal, but now Tom had forced me into a shock and awe approach. I'd been so busy with laundry that I hadn't even formulated my side of the story in my head. What on earth would I say to her? I thought I better give her a little warning, something subtle. However, Tom took even that away from me, as he exited the kitchen and his next comment rang down the stairs.

"Your son wants to show you what he's been up to today."

I finished hanging my panties on the small clothesline. For a split second I thought about wrapping the plastic-coated wire around my stepfather's neck and holding on for the ride. Hell, who was I kidding? I wasn't a killer. He'd probably kill me first. When I stepped out of the laundry room, Tom was waiting at the end of the hall. He wiped his hands on a rag, as he stood near the top of the stairs. Maybe I could run and push him…

"Well go on and show her," Tom said. He looked down at my mother. "I don't think you can even guess this one Sue."

"What is it now?" my mother asked.

Tom turned to go back into the kitchen. I slowly walked down the hallway toward the corner. Right before I turned the corner, I took a long breath. When I stepped out of the hallway, and looked down the stairs, my mother's face changed about three times. At first she laughed, but quickly covered her mouth. Then she got this confused look on her face, like she was questioning every question she ever had about me. Her last look was just a subtle eyebrow raise with shake of her head.

"Looks like we have something to talk about," my mother said.

"It was Tiffany and Kate…" I looked behind me to see if Tom was there, and then looked back at my mom. "We were just goofing around, and Tom came by…"

My mother smiled, still shaking her head. "Well come on down and get the groceries out of the car." She started to walk up the stairs. "I'll have a look at you when you're done."

She put her keys in my hand, and brushed by me into the kitchen. I walked slowly down the stairs, and went outside to get the groceries. When I got outside, our nosey neighbor across the street had about twenty double-takes on my appearance. I quickly opened the trunk of her car, and grabbed the three bags inside. I heard the footsteps of someone coming down the sidewalk, and struggled to close the trunk with all three bags in my arms.

"You need some help miss?"

I turned partially to see a young man walking over to help me. He got over to me right before I dropped a bag of groceries all over the driveway. While I situated the other two bags in my arm, he held the third and closed the trunk for me. Now I had never taken interest in how guys looked, but this guy didn't look bad at all.

He had short dark hair, about an inch or two on top, which I couldn't tell if it was black or dark brown in the dusky light. His evenly spaced eyes were an absolutely gorgeous shade of chocolate brown. Not to mention he seemed pretty fit. He probably played some sport, most likely in high school by the looks of it.

"You got it?"

"Yeah," I said, having to shake myself out of staring at him. "Thanks."

"Not a problem. I'm Nathan Riley." He held his hand out, and I shook it with the two free fingers I had left. He smiled at this, and his smile seemed perfect. "I just moved in down on the corner."

"Well it's nice to meet you," I said, as I took the third bag from him. "I'm Bailey." I thought I had better give my girl name so as not to confuse the poor boy. Then I thought he might expect to see me again, and quickly cooked up a cover story. "I don't live here. I'm just visiting my cousins."

"Oh," Nathan said. "Well nice to meet you. Glad I could help you out there." He flashed his gorgeous smile again. "Seems you were struggling a bit."

"Thanks again."

"You take care," he said, as he took off jogging down the street.

My heart was fluttering as I closed the door to the house. I didn't know if I was having a panic attack, or it was purely nervous tension. After gathering myself a bit, I proceeded up the stairs with the groceries. As I neared the kitchen, I could hear my mom and stepfather talking about my situation. I didn't like what I was hearing either.

"The panties are one thing, but you can't just make him go around with painted nails for two months,” my mother said. "What will his friends think?"

"Maybe it'll make him think," my stepfather replied. "I've tried my damnedest to get that kid to take on some manly responsibilities, but it's obviously not working."

"The kid is twelve Tom. He's just having fun with his girlfriend. What's the harm in that?"

"He needs to learn that certain things in life have consequences."

"Maybe if you'd quit running him down," my mother said. "You act like this is proof, or some reflection on all those degrading things you've been saying about him from the start."

"Well it sure as hell doesn't contradict what I think!"

"I used to dress up my little brother all the time in my things. It's just something girls do when they're bored, and to be quite honest, the boys are usually bored enough to go along with it."

"He can find something else to do if he's bored," Tom said. "I dish out twenty dollars a month for these kids to have an allowance. You would think they could use the damn money to find something entertaining to do."

"You honestly think your so called solution, is going to fix a problem?" my mother asked. "He probably doesn't even have a problem."

"Just let me handle this one," Tom said. "I think I've got it under control."

"Fine…" my mother said, "but you're paying the damn bill when the kid needs counseling from it."

"Then I'll make damn sure it's the kind of counseling he needs," Tom said. "Maybe I should take him to see my doctor, instead of that female one you drag him to."

"She's perfectly qualified."

"Whatever!" There came a long dramatic pause, before Tom added his final statement on the matter. "You leave him to me Sue."

"He's all yours Tom."

I waited a few moments to go into the kitchen. I figured if I came in a little slow, they might think I didn't hear the conversation. When I felt the time was right, I pushed open the door. I walked into the kitchen and looked at them both like I was clueless as to what had transpired. My mother looked at Tom, then shook her head as she walked over to help me with the bags. Tom walked over to me, and looked me over.

"Since he had so much fun playing a girl today," Tom said to my mom, "I'm sure he won't mind playing one the rest of the night." He looked me in the eyes until I lowered my head. "Help your mom cook supper, then you can do the dishes after." He brushed past me to exit the kitchen. "We got the wrong damn part for the dishwasher. So we're heading back to the store before it closes.” He stopped to yell down the stairs to my brother's room, as the door shut behind him. "Come on Justin! Let's go!"

My mother and I put the groceries away in silence. I handed her a couple of cans to put in the cupboard. She looked at me and smiled. It felt warm, and looked like she knew exactly what had transpired that day. She did mention she dressed her own brother up, so perhaps she understood all of this was done in fun. When I handed her a jar of pickles to be put in the refrigerator, I heard the front door slam shut. Mom turned to look at me again with a smile.

"You know…" she said. "You kind of look like me when I was in high school."

"Really?"

"Yeah." She reached out to take a carton of milk from me. "About the time I wanted to be a cheerleader." She giggled a bit.

"I don't think that will be happening," I said, with lowered eyebrows.

"Oh, I don't imagine so," she said. "But to be honest, I would support you if you did. And unlike Tom, I don't care what you do with your friends." She paused to think about her statement, and turned back to me with a raised eyebrow. "As long as it isn't drugs, drinking, or illegal."

I rolled my eyes. "I know…"

"I'm just saying I understand what happened today," she said. "Though I wouldn't go overboard with it like you did today."

"Or at least remember that Tom is coming to pick me up early," I said.

"That too."

"I just felt like I'd been keeping Tiffany from having fun this summer, so I agreed to let her do this. Then her sister got involved, and we did this whole fashion catalog shoot thing."

"Sounds like you all had fun."

"We did," I said. "Even though it cost me a summer in panties."

"Speaking of which," my mom said, "you better go put the ones in the sink up to dry."

"I almost forgot," I said as I started to exit the kitchen. Then I stopped and looked at my mom. "Do I really have to wear this all night?"

"Afraid so," she said. "I agreed to let Tom handle your punishment." She walked over to me. "But if you want my honest opinion." She put her hands on my shoulders and gave me a peck on the forehead. "Have fun with it, but don't show it."

"Thanks mom." I smiled and started to leave the room, but she stopped me.

"He wants you to put all your male underwear in this." My mother handed me a small white trash bag.

"I have to throw them away?"

"Heavens no!" she said. "He's just taking them away until you learn your lesson."

I sighed, and took the bag from her hand. Then I turned and pushed the kitchen door open. My mom went back to putting the rest of the groceries away, as I tromped down the hallway to my room. I opened the second drawer of my dresser, and then opened the white trash bag. It only took me a few seconds to gather up all my underwear and toss it in the bag. For some reason I thought maybe my stepfather had gone through this with his dad. I laughed at the thought of his six foot and two inch linebacker frame in a dress, as I tossed the bag down the hallway into his and mom's room.

No. My stepfather was a man's man. He constantly watched sports. Somehow he managed to have the knowledge to fix everything around the house. Apparently he could fix people too. He only dressed up for dress up occasions like funerals and the sort. Otherwise he'd be in some combination of grease-stained jeans and shirt. He smoked, thankfully outside, and drank, but I never saw him get drunk. On top of all of this, he tied it together with his burr haircut, which was about as out of style as his world view.

In the process of thinking about Tom, I'd made it into the bathroom. It only took me a few minutes to rinse my panties out in the sink. After doing so, I rinsed the sink out, and rolled up the remaining pairs in the brown towel. Then I picked up the towel and carried it off to the laundry room. When I walked into the laundry room, I twisted the towel gently, and then slapped it down on the countertop. I unrolled the towel, grabbed a few clothespins, and put the panties up next to my other pairs on the line. My mother walked in behind me.

"You sure picked out some cute ones," she said. "I figured you'd get all white, or some other solid color."

The thought never occurred to me to get plain white. "I just got the first package I saw that fit me."

"Wanted to get out of there as fast as possible?"

"Yeah," I said. "I still can't believe he made me do it."

"Tom's just a typical man," she said. "He gets an idea and there is no way to change his mind about it." She leaned against the dryer behind me. "I'm hoping you don't turn out like that in all honesty. I'd like to see you be more open-minded and mindful of other people's emotions."

"Tiffany and Kate liked my openness today," I admitted.

"You see?" My mother smiled. "Girls like that. A guy doesn't have to always be so macho and strut around like he's in charge."

"Maybe I'm too open." I looked at my panties hanging next to me. "I should've gotten all white," I said with a chuckle.

"Probably would've been better," my mother said with a half-hearted smile. Her face turned serious for a moment. "Do you like dressing as a girl?"

I thought about it for a moment before answering. I couldn't really say I liked dressing in girl's clothing, but I did have a lot of fun doing it today. This could be the fact that I was hanging around Tiffany way too much, and not spending enough time with the other boys. I decided to be honest with myself and my mother. She seemed like she could understand this better than Tom could.

"Honestly…" I looked at my mother. "I like it when Tiffany paints my nails."

"She's done it before?"

"For almost a year," I admitted. "And for a few months I've been keeping my toenails painted."

"I see," she said. "That would explain the sudden lack of being barefoot."

"Today was the first time she did my fingernails."

"Did you like that too?"

I looked at my hot pink fingernails. "I liked her painting them. I don't know if I'd like them painted all the time."

"Well you'll have two months to get that all sorted out in your head." She folded her arms beneath her breasts. "What about the dressing, and the makeup?"

"I loved the attention I got with the makeup," I said without hesitation. "Kate did it, and her and Tiffany were having so much fun…" My thoughts trailed off on me.

"But how did it make you feel?"

"I liked how I looked after," I said. "When I got home and looked in the mirror, I felt… I dunno…"

"Have you ever had thoughts of wanting to be a girl?"

"No!" I said, getting a bit confrontational and emphasizing it by shaking my head. "I just felt different. In a good way. But I don't want to be a girl."

"I just need to make sure," my mother said. "I thought we would have a little honest conversation before Tom got his hands all over it." She unfolded her arms. "What about the clothes?"

I looked down at the floor. "I like them."

"Because of how you look in them, or because of how they feel?"

"How they feel."

"I see," she said. "Well I'm not going to tell you to stop what you're doing. Honestly I don't see how you've done anything wrong. However, I would suggest you cool your jets around Tom, and at least pretend like it's a punishment." She stood up straight. "If he sees you enjoying it, he might try to get more involved." She flashed me a knowing smile. "Men always try to fix everything, but sometimes what they try to fix isn't broken."

"Thanks for understanding mom."

She held her arms open. "Promise me you'll talk to me about this if your feelings change."

"I will," I said with a smile.

I pushed forward from the counter and gave my mother a hug. She held me for a few moments before I broke the embrace. After a moment of her playing with my hair, she brushed past me toward the door. I looked at my panties hanging on the line. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all. Tom had practically given me free reign to do what I'd been doing for months. Only now I wouldn't have to hide my painted nails. Though I still wasn't sure about doing it all in front of my other friends. At least maybe I could explain my feelings about it all better after the ordeal.

"Should've gotten white," I mumbled, as I turned the light off and walked out the door.

My mother and I finished cooking dinner by the time Tom and Justin got home. We all ate at the table without much talking. An air of tension about the day's events floated around us all. Justin, still wearing his silver down-to-the-knee shorts and gray shirt with the sleeves cut off from practice, talked a bit about football with Tom and mother. I swear he was turning into the typical jock, with nothing to talk about except sports and how he played them. Tom had rubbed off on him entirely too much. Every so often I got a glimpse of Justin and Tom looking at me with a bit of disgust. Mom didn't treat me any differently.

Justin didn't say a single word to me. He ate, got up, put his plate on the counter, and left the kitchen. After Justin was gone, my stepfather reevaluated my punishment. He set ground rules that I had to follow until school started. The first being that I was to wear panties day and night, regardless of where I went or what I did.

Secondly I had to keep my toenails painted all the time, and fingernails unless I was going to be around certain people. Mainly this meant all of Tom's friends, or going places with him. The downside to this rule was I had to wear nail polish around even my male friends. He lifted the restriction on colors, but told me nothing a guy would wear. This led to a five minute discussion on goth people and their black nail polish.

When I saw Tiffany next, Tom said I had to wear her clothes back over there. He also stated that if I was caught dressing again, he'd find new ways to get me to stop. Tom made it a point to emphasize that the entire punishment was designed to make me realize real men don't do girly things without consequences. To try and drive this point home, he asked my mother to lend me something to sleep in that night. She told him she would give me a night shirt to wear. Tom abruptly excused himself from the table afterwards.

"Do the dishes," he said, "then go to your room."

Mom waited until he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and left the room. Then she patted my hand and gave me a wink. She stood, and gathered up the dishes. I relinquished mine. Truth be told, I wasn't all that hungry to begin with, and random Hamburger Helper with corn didn't suit me.

I still couldn't believe a simple game earlier in the day could turn into a major episode. All I wanted to do was have fun with my girlfriend. I started to think of Tiffany, hoping she wasn't beating herself up over all of this. Everything seemed fine in the grand scheme of things. My mother walked over to me. She put her hands on my shoulders and leaned down close to me.

"Put those clothes in the laundry room, and I'll wash them for you."

"Thank you," I mumbled. "If I ever get to see Tiffany again, I can give them back to her."

"Aren't you going to see her Friday for the fourth?"

"I assumed I was grounded," I said.

"He didn't say you were. I think you should call her tomorrow though, and explain the situation." She put her arms around me. "That will give her time if she needs to adjust her plans for…" She paused and looked at me. "Did you have a girl name?"

"We all decided on Bailey," I said, almost reluctant to divulge that information.

"Well that will give her time to include Bailey in her plans."

"I don't know if I'll be doing the Bailey thing anymore."

"Well you'll already be dressed as her," mom said.

"That's true…"

"I'll put some things in your room for you." She kissed the top of my head. "Wash the dishes. Then get some sleep. You had a long day."

"Goodnight mom," I said, still staring at the table.

"Night night sugar."

With those words, my mother left the room. I got up a few minutes later, walked to the sink, and quietly did the dishes. After drying them and putting them away, I exited the kitchen. I saw mom and Tom in the front room watching the evening news, so I figured it was close to eleven o'clock. Pissed at my stepfather, I didn't care to say goodnight to him, so I quietly went down the hall to my room.

I stepped into my room and shut the door behind me. As I leaned back against my door, I noticed some new additions to my belongings. First, there were several more bottles of nail polish on my dresser. There were a few bottles in shades of pink, one in true blue, one in laser red, and then another half bottle of dark red. Then I saw used bottles of top coat and base coat polishes. Next to all of that was a bottle of nail polish remover, cotton balls, files and pink toe separators. Apparently if I was going to be doing this, my mother was going to make sure I was doing it right.

I walked over to my bed and found a few more surprises. My two new pairs of white panties were missing. She probably planned to wash them with the ones I had on. The pair of dark pink panties I'd bought earlier were on my bed with a light pink shirt, which probably would've come down to the knees on me.

Next to the ensemble were a pair of pink ankle socks, about the same color as the shirt, and a few pairs of white ankle socks. Perhaps my mother got the wrong impression when I said I liked wearing girl's things. I didn't mean I wanted to wear them all the time. Now I feared I would soon have my own collection of feminine attire.

For the first time that night, I decided to go with my mom's advice. I was going to have fun, but not let Tom think I was having fun. I kicked off my borrowed ballet flats, gathered up the shirt and panties, and headed for the bathroom. After closing and locking the door, I stripped down to Tiffany's white cotton panties. Something in me wanted to wear them to sleep in, but some other part of me wanted to try the other pair. They were my own pair after all.

I painstakingly scrubbed the makeup off of my face. Then I took the barrettes out of my hair. Though I was pretty much back to boring Zachary, I still had the image of Bailey in my mind. I saw her as I gazed in the mirror. As I brushed my teeth, I saw Bailey brushing her teeth. Somewhere along the line I think I crossed a wire in my brain. Something seemed totally off to me. I figured it would go away with sleep, or perhaps I'd wake from a bad dream. Or was it a good dream?

I dropped Tiffany's panties to the floor and stepped out of them. Then I slowly replaced them with the pair of dark pink panties. They felt so light sliding up my legs. It gave me a sense of doing something so wrong, but it felt so right. As they settled over my bottom and hips, they fit perfectly. I instantly fell in love with the bikini cut, and they looked better than Tiffany's; which I found out later to be full briefs. I quickly put the sleep shirt on, which fell to just above my knees. Then I gathered up everything I discarded, including my sock boobs, and exited the room.

After dropping off Tiffany's clothes in the laundry room, I sneaked down the hallway to my bedroom. I closed the door, instantly wishing I had a lock, and walked over to my bed. As I looked at the socks on the bed, I decided to forgo them. For months I had been hiding my painted toenails, but tonight I didn't have to do that.

I put the pink socks on the table next to my bed, and the other pairs in my dresser. Part of me wanted to even paint my nails tonight, but I knew there would be plenty of time in the months ahead. I flipped off my light, and slipped into bed. Before long I couldn't fight the sleepiness, and dozed off.

I had a fitful sleep, and woke up pretty late in the morning. Tom had already left for work. He had a mindless job in the city cleaning semi trucks. I remember going down with my brother once, and helping him clean the shop. That is if you wanted to call it a shop. Most people would call it an abandoned warehouse big enough to drive semi trucks through. My brother and I got paid decent enough, so it wasn't terrible. Had Tom been the boss, I'm sure it would've been volunteer work.

Usually I was left with Justin to watch over me, but he had football practices until Wednesday. The house seemed unusually quiet. I slipped out from under the covers. The night before wasn't a dream. This became obvious when I looked down and saw my hot pink toenails. My fingernails were still hot pink, and I had on the pink sleep shirt my mother had given to me the night before.

I looked over to my clock. The time, displayed in bright red numbers, read nine twenty three. Next to the clock sat a pair of pink ankle socks. I again passed up putting the socks on. It would be nice to go barefoot for a while with painted toenails. Ever since Tiffany started painting them for me, I had been forced to hide them with socks.

The beige plush carpet beneath me felt familiar, yet strange. My feet sank into it when I stood up. I could feel it pushing up into the spaces between my toes. The individual fibers tickled the sides of my feet. It felt like I was walking on fuzzy pillows as I took the few steps to my door. My hand wrapped around the handle.

All of the lights were out upstairs. My mother was most likely gone too, as she seldom slept past eight o'clock. The few times she did, it would be on a weekend. I started to turn back into my room, when I caught a glimpse of something on my door. When I turned to look, I found a sheet of paper with a list of chores on it. I sighed, and pulled the list from the door.

I walked back into my room. The first item on the list was to empty the dishwasher. Apparently Tom had fixed it by himself last night. I carried the list over to my curtains. After taking a few minutes to throw my curtains back and let some light in, I realized mom's car was gone. She was probably hard at work by now at her office job across town. That meant I had about five hours to myself, until my brother came home. I held the list back up to look it over. It really wasn't all that bad.

"Dishes," I said to myself. "Mop the kitchen floor, clean bathroom mirror, and put the laundry away."

I wadded the list up and tossed it in my garbage can. All of the chores were things Tom considered jobs for women. Honestly, I never saw the difference if the things needed to be done. What the hell did he do while living on his own? Have his sister or girlfriend do them? The whole idea seemed stupid to me, and I didn't mind helping my mother out. Usually I was the only one who did. Not to mention the hall bathroom was mine for the most part.

My eyes wandered down to look at my attire. The pink shirt my mother loaned me to sleep in came down to almost my knees. There was maybe an inch or two from the bottom hem to the top of my knees. It seemed suitable to do chores in. I decided to keep it on. Not like anyone would see me in it. If someone came to the door, I didn't have to answer. I hurried out of my room toward the kitchen.

The dishes took very little time to put away. I guess Tom had only loaded it with a few to make sure it worked, and then ran it again with the morning dishes. My feet stuck to the linoleum floor in the area directly in front of the dishwasher. Now I realized why I had to mop the floor. Tom's lazy ass never cleaned up after himself.

My only dilemma of the day seemed to be what order I would do my chores. To most people this wouldn't seem like a big deal. However, after the ordeal I had yesterday, I was unsure if I could make decisions for my own good. I decided to leave the kitchen floor for last, and made my way to the bathroom. I had no idea how I was going to adjust my regular life for the next two months.

After using the facilities, I brought up the Windex from under the sink. I tried my hardest to clean the mirror without any streaks. As I finished the last few inches of the three foot, square-shaped mirror, I stared at my reflection in it. I missed the makeup from the night before. Everything I felt made me beautiful had been washed away. My lips fell into a pout, which started gears going somewhere in my brain.

I put the bottle of Windex down, and dropped the paper towel I'd been using in the toilet. Next to the sink were Tiffany's barrettes. I picked one up. Then I slid it in my hair on the side, and clipped it over my ear. It pulled my hair back, pulling my wavy strands away from my face, and allowing them to cascade down the side. I took another barrette and did the same on the other side.

For the next few minutes I stood at the mirror. I must have tried a hundred different combinations with the other two barrettes, but I couldn't get it to match the style Kate gave me. The two I had on each side looked cute. They gave me a sort of wavy bob cut look. I finally gave up on where to put the other two, and double clipped both sides. My eyes fell upon my lips in the mirror, which had somehow contorted into a disappointed half frown. Then I smiled.

I exited the bathroom, and quickly went down the hall to the master bedroom. After double checking to make sure Tom wasn't secretly hiding out in his room, I went in and made my way to my mom's dresser. On the top were random assortments of nail polish, lipstick and a ton of makeup. I scanned her lipsticks. Finally I picked a light pink shade.

Gleefully I ran back to the bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror. My hands trembled as I popped the cap from the lipstick. Within a few split seconds I had the waxy substance twisted up out of the tube, and had it inches from my lips. I thought of how Kate had shown me to put it on, and I went for it.

The lipstick slid across my bottom lip. It stuck and pulled gently as I took it back the other way. I moved it back and forth several times until it slid easily. My lips grew brighter pink with each pass. I carefully put it on my upper lip, making sure to even get it on the top points of the bow. Then I set the tube down and pushed my lips together. Perfect!

I pulled out a tissue from the box on the counter. I blotted. Then my fingers instantly wrapped around the tube of lipstick again. I reached up and spread another lighter coat on my lips. Afterwards I pushed my lips together and rocked them gently back and forth. When I opened my lips I loved what I saw. I puckered up like I could kiss myself. After tossing the tissue in the toilet and flushing it, I closed up mom's lipstick and headed to the laundry room.

The only things left on my list were mopping the floor and putting the laundry away. If I finished fast enough, I might have time to do my nails before Justin got home. My plans changed slightly when I entered the laundry room. Mom had washed Tiffany's clothes. Her shirt, skirt and socks all sat neatly on the dryer, while her panties and bra were hung up with my panties. All of those panties hanging up seemed so inviting. I stared at Tiffany's bra for a few minutes.

Before I knew it, I had pulled the pink sleep shirt off. I found myself unclipping Tiffany's bra from the wire, and slipping my arms through it. I fidgeted with the back until it was hooked firmly around my chest. Then I walked over to the dryer and picked up her socks, one at a time, and rolled them up. In a matter of moments I had my breasts back from the night before.

I gathered up the pink sleep shirt and pulled it back over my head. In a few seconds I was back at the bathroom mirror. I adjusted the bra and fake breasts until I felt they looked natural. Convinced that nobody could tell the difference, I exited the bathroom and headed back to the laundry room.

There really wasn't much laundry to speak of, as far as I could tell. Tom had a t-shirt, which mom had set aside with stain remover all over it. My things, along with Tiffany's clothes were there of course. Justin had a basket full of mostly gym shorts and cut-off t-shirts. I decided to leave his until I finished mopping. Mom seldom let her clothes stay in the laundry room. For the most part she put everyone's away, but the times she didn't, she almost always took care of her own.

Mom always had nice clothes. I mean they weren't fancy with designer labels or anything, but they were nice. She mostly wore knee length skirts and pretty blouses. Nothing over-the-top, but stuff you'd see a nicely dressed corporate secretary wearing. Usually she would alternate between black pantyhose and tan pantyhose. She seldom wore less than a three inch heel pair of shoes to work.

Justin and I shared looks, as my wardrobe consisted of probably fifty percent hand-me-downs. We both liked baggy jeans from Fall to Spring. I liked jean shorts in the summer, but he liked gym shorts. They had to be the baggy down-to-the-knee ones too. Justin wore a hat ninety percent of the time, where I maybe wore one nine percent of the time. The most common thing between us, was that we liked t-shirts and baggy hooded sweatshirts.

The one thing I never got handed down to me, was shoes. My feet were just too small to fit into his shoes. By the time I caught up to the size he used to wear, my mom would deem them "unsuitable" to wear. So I usually got a new pair of shoes to start the school year. I used the old ones to work or play in until I outgrew them. Then of course I had random situational shoes, but they were usually cheap ones from Wal-Mart.

As I thought about my clothes, I had subconsciously brought mine and Tiffany's back to my room. It took me a few minutes to decide how I wanted my panties folded. The little things like this confused the hell out of me. I decided to fold them like guys briefs. I'm sure I didn't panic some woman on the other side of the world who taught panty folding techniques. My mom had put Tiffany's skirt on one of her hangers with the clips on the bottom. So I hung it up in my closet along with her shirt.

After mopping the kitchen floor with one of those cheap sponge mops, I returned it to the laundry room, and grabbed the basket of Justin's clothes. I stood at the top of the stairs with the basket under one arm. The house seemed so quiet. Ever since I was four or five, I was scared to death of the basement. My fear seemed to alleviate itself over time, but it never went away completely. It was especially worse when I got stuck at home alone.

I started down the stairs. Thinking back on why the basement frightened me, I thought of a time when I had just turned six. My brother and I were running through the house and sword fighting. I think we were playing pirates or something. When we ran downstairs to the middle level, the one with the door to the outside, we heard a thud. We both turned to look down the rest of the stairs, and witnessed the garage door open and close. Then Justin's door opened and closed.

I stopped with my back to the front door and looked down at Justin's door. That episode in my past never wandered far from my memory. There were other times I heard sounds in Justin's room when he wasn't home. I always imagined it was my dead father coming back to the house for something. Maybe he didn't like Tom and wanted to kill him. That was okay with me, as long as I didn't get caught in the crossfire.

I smiled to myself. Then I continued down the stairs to my brother's room. The ceiling crackled a bit as I opened his door. My father had finished the rather large room right before he passed away. He started putting it together slowly when he found out my mom was pregnant with me. They wanted us both to be upstairs, but Justin apparently had thrown one tremendous fit about sharing rooms. So he got his own room downstairs. It was a converted living room, complete with fireplace and his own bathroom.

I snooped a bit as I put his laundry away. Part of me was a bit jealous that Justin got a cool room. The other side of me was relieved he got the creepy haunted room. I always liked fireplaces though. On several occasions I sat by the one upstairs, in the Winter, and read a book. Tom always made fun of me, saying it was a sissy thing to do. Then again, Tom could stand to pick up a book some time. All he ever did was watch television and bitch about what he saw on it.

I put a few clean towels in Justin's bathroom. Figuring I'd go the extra mile for mom, I gathered up his dirty towels and put them in the basket. This would at least save her a trip downstairs, even if I didn't decide to wash them for her. After taking one more quick look around Justin's room, I decided nothing in there interested me. I exited the room and closed the door behind me.

I think I was on maybe the fifth step up when the doorbell rang. Crap! If I had been anywhere else in the house, I could've ignored it. I froze, hoping whoever it was wouldn't lean over to look through the window on the side of the door. Crap again! They did.

On the other side of the door stood Nathan Riley. His lips turned up into a big smile when he saw me. He held up his hand to wave me to the door. Part of me didn't have the will to do this simple request. Some other part of me took over, and drove me up the stairs. I stood before the front door and took a deep breath.

I reached for the deadbolt on the door and unlocked it. Why the hell was I opening the door for him? I grabbed the handle and turned it. What the hell would I say to him? The door swung open. I placed the basket in front of me. Perhaps it would cause enough space between us. Perhaps it would give him the message that I'm busy. Perhaps he would say two words and go away!

"Hey!" Nathan said. "Bailey right?"

I thought for a split second. Thank goodness I put the bra on. "Yes… Nathan was it?"

"Yeah," he said. "I don't wanna bug you." He looked down at the basket. "You seem a little busy."

"Sort of," I lied.

"Cute feet."

"Thanks," I said, feeling a blush come on. A blush? Weird…

His eyes came back up to meet mine. "Well I was just wondering if Justin was home?"

"I'm afraid not," I said. "He's at practice until two or so."

"Oh…" Nathan looked puzzled. "He said we could go over some plays today." He looked up at me with his gorgeous brown eyes. "Maybe he meant next Tuesday…"

"Probably?" I glimpsed down at the basket. "He has practice tomorrow too." My eyes rose back up to his. "You want me to tell him you stopped by?"

"Nah," he said. "I can just come back next week."

"So I take it you play football with him?" Why the hell did I just drag the conversation out?

"Yeah." Nathan smiled. "Freshman camp isn't until the fourteenth, but I talked to him earlier. He said we could go over some of the offense."

"Oh, so you're a freshman?" Why did I care?

"Yeah…" He gave me another strange look. "I assumed you were older than me last night, but looking at you today…" His hand reached up to comb through his black hair. It was definitely black. "You look younger."

"I'm starting seventh grade this Fall," I said.

"Ah." He dropped his hand to his side. "Well I don't want to bore you with football talk."

"Oh, you're not boring me at all," I said. "Besides, I'm used to it with Justin. He goes on and on about it everyday." Why was I still talking?

"You stay here a lot?"

"Not a lot."

"Sorry. You just made it sound like you're here all the time."

For a few seconds I tried to conjure up some excuse as to why I was here. Several times I came up with blanks. The easy thing to do would be to lie. However, if Nathan would be hanging around Justin a lot, he would know in no time flat. Even a moron could connect the dots on this charade. After all, I had to wear nail polish for two months. How could I explain myself next Tuesday if Nathan saw me? The lying was eating at me anyway. I had to tell him before he found out.

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Well I don't know you that well," Nathan said, "but I can keep my mouth shut."

"My name really isn't Bailey," I said. "This is a sick and twisted punishment my stepfather is making me go through for the rest of the summer."

"I don't get it."

"He caught me messing around with my girlfriend yesterday." I looked around the street, and then back at Nathan. "We were goofing around and she had me dress up in those clothes you saw me in yesterday."

"Wait so you're a guy?" Nathan said, with raised eyebrows.

"Yes," I looked down at the basket full of towels. "My name is Zach. I'm Justin's younger brother. My stepfather is making me wear girl things for the rest of the summer." I was greeted with silence. So I looked up at Nathan with pleading eyes. "Please don't tell anyone."

"I…" Nathan scratched his head. "Who would I tell?"

"If this gets out…" I said. "I'll never live it down."

"So you have to dress like a girl?"

"So far it's only panties and painted nails," I said. "I'm hoping he doesn't add to it."

"Well, I understand that stepfather's can be pricks," Nathan said. "My own stepfather tries to overcompensate to prove he can handle the job of my dad. He's pretty much an asshole." He looked down at my feet, and scanned up my entire body. "But I don't get this. I mean, if you don't want someone to dress as a girl, why dress them as a girl for a punishment?"

"I don't get it either," I said. "I'm hoping he drops it after a week or two."

"Wait!" Nathan cocked his head to the left. "If it's just panties and nails… what's with the lipstick and tits?"

"I…" My mind drew a total blank.

"And you even did your hair." Nathan smiled. "You don't like it do you?"

"I..." Again a blank! Think dammit!

"Look," Nathan said. "It's okay if you do or don't. It really doesn't bother me one way or the other." He dropped his smile. "But it looks like you're in over your head."

"I am!" I pouted.

"To be honest," Nathan said, "you could go either way."

"Huh?"

"Just saying you make a cute girl. You have the features for it." He shrugged. "I never would've known the difference if you didn't tell me."

"Thanks… I think."

"Just be careful with whatever you do, okay?"

"Sure."

"I'll see you later," Nathan said. "Kinda curious as to whether I'll see Zach or Bailey, but I'll see you regardless."

"Thanks for being cool with it."

"Eh, I know how it is." He turned to walk down the steps. Then he stopped, and held his hand up as he did so. "You still have cute feet."

I was definitely blushing now. I could feel the heat. "Thanks." I smiled at him as I shook my head.

Nathan started down the stairs again. "Take care," he said behind him.

"You too."

I leaned back against the door as I closed it behind me. For the third time in two days, I had this weird and unfamiliar feeling inside. Once it had happened when Kate put makeup on me. Twice it had happened after talking to Nathan. Was I giddy? Did I like being Bailey? My thoughts wandered to the moment Bailey had been "born" in Tiffany's bedroom. I was giddy then! I'd been giddy for the past twenty four hours!

I mindlessly locked the front door, and carried myself up the stairs. Without even looking at where I put it, I dropped the basket in the laundry room. I had to think about this. My "cute" feet carried me into my room, and there I sat on my bed. After a few minutes of recalling the past two days, I started to weigh facts.

I put my hands on my bare knees and put my feet out. My eyes danced back and forth between my toenails and my fingernails. The hot pink left an imprint in my mind when I shut my eyes. I opened them. In my own head I finally reached a conclusion on my nails. I liked them painted. The fact wasn't that I liked Tiffany to paint them, but that I actually liked having them painted.

My hands rubbed over my knees. I barely had any peach fuzz on my legs. While I loved seeing girls with smooth and hairless legs, I still wanted hair on mine. I actually looked forward to it, like it was a right of passage. So that little fact told me I still wanted to have a guy's body, with hair and all. It felt like the natural thing.

Muscle? I didn't have much to speak of, but I knew I wanted some. Not like my brother's, as he was starting to look like those big bulky athletes on television, but at least enough to show I was a boy. Maybe I could start lifting weights? No, that wasn't like me. So far I had two facts weighing on the male side of my brain.

The female side fought back. I liked makeup. Maybe part of it was because it made me look like another person yesterday. Some other part of me liked the way it felt. Combined with the way I felt with it on, and the way I looked, I came to the ultimate conclusion that I liked wearing it. Even if it was only lipstick, it still appealed to me.

The issue of clothing is were I hit a double-edged sword. When I wore my own clothes, I liked baggy stuff. It felt comfortable. When I wore Tiffany's clothes, I liked her tights and form-fitting shirts. That felt comfortable as well, but a different kind of comfortable. I would never wear tight clothing as a guy, because even I thought that looked sissy. I had mixed feelings on the issue. After a few minutes of thinking, I decided I liked both. Maybe I was becoming a guy that liked to crossdress occasionally?

However, I couldn't do that. Tom would either kill me, or utterly humiliate me. I'd probably have to dress as a punishment, which would mean when he wanted me to do it. It wouldn't be fun then, and I wouldn't feel comfortable. I started to wonder if Tiffany would let me dress at her place. She would at least have fun along with me. Then I remembered I had to call her. I picked up the phone.

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To Be Continued...
 

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Part 3

It seemed like it took forever for Friday to come around. I had called Tiffany on Tuesday, and told her I could still do something with her on the Fourth of July. When I explained my punishment to her, she seemed as confused as I did. At least that was her initial reaction. After I told her I had to wear her clothes back over there Friday, she immediately had mixed opinions.

I told her we could make other plans, but she insisted on me coming over regardless. She didn't plan on me coming back in her clothes. So she told me I could come a little early to change into the ones I left over there. If I made it there before the guests started arriving for the cookout, I could slip in and be done with it. Both of us were at a loss on the nail polish dilemma, but she said if I wore a less feminine color, we could play it down.

We both decided to forego my mother's advice. She had told me to go as Bailey and have fun with it. "I'd be dressed anyway," my mother had said. However, that wouldn't really sit well with the company Tiffany planned on having. It was basically her parents' friends, but Tiffany had managed to get permission to have a few friends over, including her boyfriend. We were all planning on going to see the fireworks at the local high school.

While it was true that I would probably have fun as Bailey, if my stepfather caught me as Bailey again, there would be hell to pay. A huge part of me started to not care. On Thursday night I meticulously painted all of my nails. I applied base coat, and followed it with two coats of true blue polish. After two applications of top coat, I had the shiniest patriotic display I could muster. Since Tom had forced me to paint my nails anyway, I thought I might as well take my time and make it special. I was going to alternate each nail with laser red, but figured this was something a girl would do.

The nail color didn't exactly sit well with Tom when he saw them. The task was to get me to do something humiliating, like paint them pink. When he saw me gushing to my mom over my painted nails, he began to suspect I was enjoying it. I could see it eating away at him. He also seemed mad about me going to Tiffany's for the fourth. However, he was leaving Friday night for some fishing trip with Justin anyway, and wouldn't be back until Sunday night. What the hell did he care?

I almost leapt out of bed when I woke up Friday morning. I couldn't wait to get away from Tom, even if he was going to be gone the entire weekend. After a nice breakfast of pancakes and sausage, I deliberately wasted a few hours alone in my room. It gave me time to think. Tom wouldn't leave until after I did. So I couldn't skip out of the house in my own clothes. He would make sure of that.

For the first hour or so, I tried to think of some way I could slip out of the house unseen. I sat and stared at Tiffany's outfit. I'd already deemed it as "the outfit" in my own mind. It would later become the outfit I associated with everything in my life that went wrong. To be honest with myself, I really didn't want to wear it again. The stupid thing even haunted my dreams.

I had secretly slipped the ballet flats on a few times since Monday. However, I couldn't bring it upon myself to slip on the whole outfit. Even when I was alone, it didn't seem like the right thing to do. It was a huge relief to know that Tiffany didn't want me to wear it again either. She wanted a boyfriend. She made it abundantly clear that the boyfriend she wanted was me. Something in me felt like Tom was trying to ruin it all for me.

Tom ruined a lot of things in my opinion. He made my mom feel like she couldn't do better. I knew damn well she could. She was a beautiful woman, even if she was nearing forty-three. Tom treated her fine, but I think she developed an abandonment complex over time. Justin maybe said one paragraph to me since Monday. This made me sad too, as I had always been able to at least pal around with him. Now he avoided me like the plague.

I recalled the dream I had the night before. In the dream I stood before an all girls boarding school somewhere in a frozen tundra. Tom laughed at me as he drove away. In the passenger seat my mother cried as she looked back. Justin stared forward with a vague expression, ignoring the event entirely. Slowly Tom's car drifted down the road and over the horizon. I stood alone, with "the outfit" on, freezing in the icy cold winds.

Those chilling images carried with me to the bathroom. I set about to the mundane tasks of getting ready. The shower was short and uneventful. I toweled off and dried my hair. Everything seemed boring and uneventful, until I had to don "the outfit". My eyes looked over it. Why couldn't I just shove it in a bag and go over there as myself?

I put my feet through the panties, and slid them up my legs. To be honest with myself at that time in my life, I actually liked wearing them. I didn't much care for the bra, which I put on next. My mother told me to forego the "breasts" for now. She said they didn't look right at my age. I hooked the bra closed, and pulled on Tiffany's pink t-shirt over my head. After pulling the skirt on, I opened the door and called for my mom. She came into the bathroom and smiled at me.

"Can you do something with my hair?" I asked.

"Sure honey," my mother said. "We'll just brush it out and clip it. That should be fine."

My mother didn't have anyone to really practice hairstyles on, but she got it pretty close to what Kate did Monday. Kate had a little sister to practice on, so she did a much better job. However, my mom did it fairly well, and somehow managed to give me some bangs. She loosened my front hair, and put the clip in it near the ends. It bubbled out in front to give the illusion of curly bangs.

"Thanks mom," I said when she had finished.

"Not a problem," she said. "Go grab your shoes, and I'll meet you in the living room."

She left me alone. I hurried to brush my teeth. Then I ran to my room. I sat on the edge of my bed and wiggled my feet into Tiffany's ballet flats. Out of all the things I wore of hers, I liked her shoes a lot. My own shoes were boring. Girls just had a lot more to choose from, and this interested me. I shook the thoughts from my head, and hurried into the living room.

Tom had prepared a lecture for me before I went. He went on and on about how it better be the last time I wore girls' clothes. My mother tried several times to tell him we had to go. However, Tom kept saying we could go when he was finished talking. For another ten minutes he made it clear that he wanted me to start acting right. In his mind that meant to act like a rough little bastard boy. He ended it all with a threat that if he ever caught me in girls' clothing again, he would be taking me to see someone about it, and it would be fixed.

Finally, Tom let us go. My mother and I hurried downstairs and out the door. I saw Nathan across the street, at the house adjacent to my neighbor. He waved to me when he saw me. I waited until my mother was in the car, and then I waved back at him. In a matter of a few seconds I was in the car and buckled in. My mother started the car up and backed out of the driveway. We were finally on our way to Tiffany's house.

Tiffany's street was lined with cars, and her driveway was full. So my mother dropped me off in the street in front of her house. She told me all of the usual things, like to behave and be safe if there were fireworks. Afterwards, I closed the door and stepped backwards a few paces. I waved to my mother, and she took off down the road. For a moment I simply stared up at the front door, but then managed to carry myself up the driveway and the few steps toward it. My finger sank into the doorbell. I heard Tiffany's voice through the door.

"I'll get it!"

Tiffany opened the door quickly. She grabbed my wrist, pulling me into her house. We passed the small group of guests in the living room. Their shapes passed my eyes in a blur. I found myself being pulled toward her bedroom, and being pushed inside. She disappeared for a few minutes, and when she came back into the bedroom she had Kate in tow with her. Kate had to look twice before she realized it was me. Then she smiled.

"You're late!" Tiffany said.

"I know. I'm sorry," I said. "Tom wouldn't let my mom and I go."

"Well, your clothes are on the bed," Tiffany said, as she pointed to them. "Or…"

"Or what?"

"Option two," Kate said, as she held up a tube of lipstick.

"No," I said. "No, I want out of these things." I shook my head, folding my arms across my chest.

"We're not going to force you," Kate said.

"We just thought maybe you'd be more comfortable," Tiffany said. "You know… with your nails and all."

I held my hands up with my nails facing them. "They're blue," I said. "I can probably get away with them."

"Well…" Kate closed the door and lowered her voice. "We were thinking…"

"That's never good," I said with a smirk.

"Just hear me out," Kate said. "My friend, who lives behind the school, is having a pool party tonight."

"I thought I was staying here with Tiffany?"

"Zach is," Tiffany said.

"I don't get it," I said. "I am Zach!"

"See…" Kate leaned against the door. "It's an all girls pool party. Her parents won't let guys come."

"I don't mind staying here," Tiffany said. "But if you wanted to do something else."

"We're not trying to pressure you into anything," Kate said. "Just thought you might have more fun at a pool party than a boring cookout with our parents' friends."

"So we say Zach," I shook my head. "I mean I, never showed up here." I glanced at Tiffany. "And I go as Bailey to the pool party?"

"Right," Tiffany said. "But it's totally up to you."

"Won't they figure it out?"

"Figure what out?" Kate asked.

I turned to look at her. "That I'm not a girl?" I grabbed my chest. "These aren't real."

Kate and Tiffany both laughed hysterically. Tiffany stepped back and sat on her bed. She continued to laugh as Kate calmed down a bit. I watched as Kate grabbed her own chest. She jiggled her breasts a bit.

"These didn't start growing 'til my freshman year," Kate said, with a hint of the laughter still in her voice.

"Yeah," Tiffany said. "Most girls don't get a rack until they're well into high school." She wiped her eyes.

"Mine aren't even done growing," Kate said. "You'll be fine."

"What about…" My eyes hinted at my crotch. "You know?"

"Can't you tuck it or something?" Kate asked.

"What if it pops out or something?"

Tiffany collapsed on the bed. She burst out laughing. Her arms held fast to her stomach, and she began to kick her feet in the air. As absurd as the scene seemed, she had an almost hypnotic and a completely agreeable sound to her laughter. It sounded so innocent, and as I listened to her laugh, my mind recapped on what I had said. It did seem pretty funny. I joined in her laughter. Kate did as well, only more contained. She held one hand over her mouth to try and hide her giggling.

"Okay…" I said, catching my breath. "If you think we won't get caught."

"I don't think we will," Kate said.

Tiffany gathered herself, and sat up on the side of her bed. "I don't think so either."

"We're screwed if your mom calls," Kate said.

"Well…" I looked at Tiffany. "I'll call her and tell her the change of plans." I glanced at Kate. "If you can bring me home?"

"Sure!" Kate said.

"So you'll do it?" Tiffany asked.

I shrugged. "Got an extra swimsuit?"

Tiffany's face lit up with a smile. She leapt from the bed, and rushed over to me. Before I could even react to anything, she had me pinned up against her wall. Her soft lips pushed against mine. Our eyes closed. For several moments she forcibly kissed me. It seemed like the most passionate kiss we'd ever shared. She pushed into me.

I thought the kiss would go on forever. Tiffany really seemed into it. I'd never seen her this aggressive before. When Kate started clearing her throat, Tiffany got the hint. She reluctantly let up on her kiss, and we shared a few tender follow-up pecks. The tip of her tongue glided over my bottom lip. My eyes sprung open to see Tiffany pulling away. Then she opened her own eyes and smiled.

"Um… we should get changed," Kate said.

"Uh huh," was all I could muster. I continued to lean against the wall.

"I have the perfect outfit for you… Bailey," Tiffany said.

She scurried over to her dresser. After rummaging through a drawer, she pulled two items out and turned to face me. I saw my "perfect outfit" in her hands. In her left hand was a bright pink one-piece bathing suit, and in her right hand a dark red one-piece. Aside from color, they almost matched completely. I shook my head gently with mouth wide open.

"You don't want to do it?" Tiffany asked.

"No, I'll do it," I said. "Just of all the things I thought I'd be doing this Summer…"

"Not high on your list?" Kate asked with a giggle.

"Not anywhere near my list." I put my hands on my hips. "I suppose I have to wear the pink?"

"That would be silly," Tiffany said. "You get the red."

"Very patriotic with your nails," Kate said.

I glanced over to see Kate smiling. Then my attention fell on my girlfriend. Tiffany walked the swimsuits over to me. I reached for the red one, and she pulled it back. She pushed the pink one forward, with a big smile on her face. I shook my head furiously and she laughed. Then she handed me the red bathing suit.

I took the red swimsuit from her hand, and Kate led me out of the room. She walked ahead of me, covering me incase someone saw us. Then she stood outside of the bathroom as I locked myself inside. After closing the door, I quickly pulled my borrowed clothes off, pausing shortly before dropping the panties. I stood for a lingering moment with the red material in my hands. Looking down at my fingernails and toenails, I figured people wouldn't assume too much. I took a deep breath and stepped into the bathing suit.

I thought for sure this thing wasn't going to fit, but I never realized how stretchy the material would be. However, I held fast to my end of the bargain; the one I made up in my own mind in Tiffany's room. If this thing fit, I would go… maybe. Try I did, and fit it did. I pulled the straps up over my shoulders and fidgeted with everything. There I was looking in the mirror at a prepubescent girl, but it was me. Kate and Tiffany beckoning to see me, prompted me slowly but surely to open the bathroom door.

"Looking good," Kate said.

"Awesome!" Tiffany said.

Tiffany couldn't contain her excitement. Already dawning her pink version of the red swimsuit I was wearing, she stood there fussing over me. She fixed my hair with her fingers, and moved around me to adjust the swimsuit. I looked almost exactly like her, but with medium length blonde hair, instead of long black hair. Our bodies seemed remarkably similar at this age.

Her hands moved all over my body. I felt her pull the swimsuit out at my bottom to make it cover more. She pulled the front up more, leaving more of my back exposed. Then she adjusted the straps on my shoulders. When she came back around to my stomach, she smoothed over my front, and adjusted the suit a bit more.

The feeling of her hands running over my body felt good, with only a thin layer of smooth material between us. She glanced around, and then ran her hand between my legs. I jumped, and shifted away from her a bit when she cupped my genitals. She seemed frisky. After she became satisfied with the fit, she threw her arms around me, giving me a big hug. Then she kissed me on the cheek and let me go.

"Could you excuse my sister and I?" Kate said. She was glaring at Tiffany.

"You can go call your mom in my room," Tiffany said. "I'll come do some finishing touches."

Tom and Justin had already left, and so my mother answered the phone. My mom seemed perfectly fine with the plans, even stating I could spend the night if I was on my best behavior. I wasn't sure about that at all, but told her I would call her back if I did. She told me to have fun and act like a lady. Even though I was going to be Bailey for the night, it still irritated me she said it like that. My spirits weren't dampened all that much though, as I hung up the phone and waited.

I waited for quite a while. Several minutes went by before Tiffany came bursting into her room with two large beach towels, and some other assorted items. She handed me a pair of white cotton shorts, and a pair of red flip-flops. I dropped the sandals to my feet and pulled on the shorts before slipping my blue-tipped feet into the sandals. I watched her for a moment pull on a pair of black shorts, and slip her own feet into a pair of pink flip-flops.

Then she turned to me and held up a tube of lipstick. I remember her telling me the shade was Toast of New York, some Revlon shade that was hugely popular in the 1990's. Kate walked into the room and mentioned every girl around their age wore it. I shrugged. Instead of letting me put it on, Tiffany applied the lipstick lightly to my lips. She then messed with my hair a bit more, and put a couple of barrettes in it.

"Don't look so disappointed," Kate said.

"I didn't realize I did."

"You look sad," Tiffany said.

"Oh… I guess I was just expecting more."

"More what?" Kate asked.

"Makeup and stuff, I guess."

"Well we are going swimming," Tiffany said. "Would get ruined anyway."

"Besides," Kate said. "That makeup I put on you the other day was overkill."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah. I just did it heavy like that to show up in the pictures."

"Most girls our age don't wear a lot of makeup," Tiffany said.

"You really do look better natural," Kate said. "The lipstick's more for confidence than anything." She winked at me.

Tiffany shoved my towel into a large bag. She tossed in sunscreen with the towel. Then she repeated the process for her own bag. In her bag, she also put the lipstick. Lastly she handed me a pair of sunglasses with red frames.

"Still got a few more hours of sun," Tiffany said. "Ready to go?"

I stood there frozen. "What if someone recognizes me?"

"I don't hardly recognize you," Tiffany said.

"Nobody will even know you," Kate added.

"What if something happens in the pool?"

"You'll be fine," Kate said.

"I don't know if I can go like this."

"Look…" Kate put her hands on my bare shoulders. "We'll tell our parents we're leaving. If they recognize you, that'll be your out."

"If you pass as my friend Bailey," Tiffany said, "then we go. Deal?"

She just stood there with the biggest smile on her face. Her look beamed with confidence. She put her sunglasses on her head in a way where it held her hair back. Though she didn't know it, she had already won the argument. She won it way back when she kissed me. Then again, maybe she did know it. Women…

"Okay. If they don't catch on, I'll go."

"That's the spirit!" Kate said.

"We will so make this up to you," Tiffany said.

"How?"

"We'll think of something," Kate said.

Both girls moved for the door. I put my sunglasses on my head, copying Tiffany, and sheepishly followed them into the hall. They say when trying something new, the first step is always the hardest. I think I may have walked past about twenty people until I realized the guests weren't staring at me. In fact they all seemed too absorbed in their conversations. Sure we got noticed. Who wouldn't notice three girls in bathing suits? However, they didn't stare at us like they were trying to determine which of us was a boy.

"You girls going to the pool party now?" Tiffany's mom asked from across the room.

"In a little while," Kate said. "Where's dad?"

"He's out firing up the grill. Make sure you girls get something to eat before you leave."

"Will do," Tiffany said. "You remember Bailey?"

"Of course!" Tiffany's mom waved at me. "Nice to see you again. Shame Zach couldn't make it. You girls have fun." She turned back to talk to someone else.

Tiffany leaned over slightly to whisper in my ear. "If you can get past mom, you already won."

We all walked outside into the backyard. The boy side of me wanted to kick the hapless pinecones strewn across the back patio, but the girl side of me gave heed to me falling flat on my face while doing so. I didn't wear flip-flops much. So that tended to be the first dilemma. The second dilemma would be the fact that I was too scared to act outside of the perceived character of a young girl.

Tiffany and I sat down at their outdoor table, as Kate went over to talk to their dad. Next to me, Tiffany continued to gab away as if nothing were out of the ordinary. She shared her concerns about starting junior high in two months, and how sad it would be that we were going to different schools. I looked at her confused. We were both going to the same junior high school. Then it dawned on me she was talking about Bailey.

"Yeah," I said. "Too bad we won't get to see much of each other."

"Well we got the rest of the Summer," Tiffany said.

When I looked at the plate of raw hamburgers sitting on the grill, I felt a bit queasy at the thought of going through with this. Maybe it was the heat. Perhaps a dip in the pool wouldn't be so bad after all. After a few minutes, I started to stop concentrating on my situation for once. I joined in with my girlfriend's conversation and she smiled at me.

"You'll be fine," she tried to convince me. She leaned forward to whisper to me. "Just act natural."

I leaned forward to whisper back. "If I act natural, won't I be a boy?"

"If you say so," Tiffany said. "But you don't look the part."

"No thanks to you."

"I lied when I said I didn't like you as Bailey."

"That's not even funny," I said loudly. I lowered my voice when Kate looked at me. "Why?"

"Why did I lie?"

"No," I said. "Why do you like it?"

"I don't know what it is," Tiffany said. "Like, I don't think your step dad is right at all, but…"

"But what?"

"I don't want to make you mad."

"I won't be mad," I said.

"You've just got this side of you that appeals to me," Tiffany said.

"A girly side?"

"It really isn't that," she said. "I mean you have it without being Bailey."

"I'm more confused now, than I was when this started."

"There is something special about you that I really like," Tiffany said. "That's the best way I can explain it."

"Hey!" Kate yelled. "Girls over there! Look over here!"

We both looked at Kate. She looked amazing in her forest green swimsuit. It hugged every single inch of her upper body. She waved her arms out in front of her. They were slim arms, not boney, but a fit slim, with a very healthy tan glow. The same glowing tan covered her shapely legs, legs that seemed to go on forever from her white knit shorts to her white flip-flops. Her shiny black hair looked wet and silky, and was pulled back into a high ponytail.

"Do you young ladies want a hotdog before you go?" their dad asked.

"I'll take one," Tiffany said.

"Bailey?"

Was that me? I stared at Kate's amazing body. I stared until I felt a jab in my ribs. I glanced at Tiffany, and then back at Kate. She had an amused smile on her face, but with her eyes she was prodding me to focus my attention elsewhere. Then I looked at their dad. He stood with a puzzled look on his face.

"I'm sorry," I said. "My mind was completely on something else. I'll take one please."

Their dad shook his head as he laughed. "Coming right up."

Tiffany leaned over to me. "Do you have a crush on my sister?" she asked with a whisper.

"I…" I looked at her. "I'm just imagining you looking that good when you're older."

Tiffany shook her head letting loose a small laugh. "Relax! Even your voice is high when you're nervous." She bumped me with her elbow. "You're a girl. You shouldn't be staring at other girls like that."

After a brief moment of regret at being called a girl, I quickly got over it. I vowed from that moment on I would try not to stare at other girls again. At least I wouldn't be caught by Tiffany while doing it. I didn't even ponder at that moment where this all would take our relationship. However, it didn't really concern me. Tiffany still found me appealing even when I was Bailey. For the rest of the day, I was no longer her boyfriend. I was one of the girls.

We ate soon after the little episode. For three girls, we put away a hotdog in record time. I think we were all nervous about getting out of there as fast as possible. I for one could imagine their mom eventually putting my face on a boy's body. Our little endeavor would be derailed quickly if that happened. Kate and Tiffany gave their dad a kiss on the cheek, and we were off.

Instead of going back through the house, we walked around the yard. I had a flashback of my stepfather sitting in the driveway, imagining what would happen if he saw this. Kate purposefully parked at the back of the driveway. I was personally glad. It meant we could get out fast. I let Tiffany into the backseat before me, and started to climb in after her. Kate poked her head into the car.

"Uh… no!" Kate said. "I'm not playing chaperone. One of you sit up front."

"Bailey can," Tiffany said. "She has a huge lesbian crush on you."

I hid my face, as I felt the burning sensation of a blush coming over it. By the time I had put the passenger seat back, Kate had settled into the driver's side seat. I stepped into the car and sat next to her. The tan vinyl stuck to me everywhere. Kate started up the car as I shifted uncomfortably.

"You get used to it," Kate said.

"I guess so," I said.

"Last chance," Kate said, looking into my eyes. "Once we leave this driveway, you're stuck as Bailey until we come back."

"She's ready!" Tiffany said.

I nodded.

"So be it!"

Kate backed the car out of the driveway. She pulled the gear selector down into drive, and we were off. The high school was about six blocks from their house, and Kate's friend's house was only five or so blocks after that. So instead of hitting the radio on, we all decided to talk. Well, we all didn't decide to talk. Rather Kate had a few things to say.

"You two really need to chill with the kissing and groping. Especially when you're Bailey." She glanced at me.

"I was just fooling around," Tiffany said.

"Exactly!" Kate said. "What if mom or dad saw you kissing? They'd either think you were a lesbian." She looked in the mirror at her sister. "Or you both would have a ton of explaining to do."

"Okay," Tiffany said. "Point taken."

"I don't want to be the one who puts a drag on all of this," Kate said. "Just be careful of your surroundings. Please?"

"Okay," we both chimed in together.

"Now…" Kate pulled up to a stop sign. "I think it's kind of cute that you two can do this, and I want you to have fun with it."

"But?" Tiffany asked.

"But," Kate said, "you…" She looked at me. "Have to remember that you're acting as a twelve-year-old girl." She pulled away from the stop sign. "And in remembering that, also remember there are certain expectations of how you should act."

"I'll behave," I said.

"It's not just that," Kate said. "I guess what I'm trying to say is I want Tiffany to be the standard tonight." She glanced at Tiffany again in the mirror. "Meaning she should go above and beyond to show you the way to properly act like a young lady."

"I will," Tiffany said, rolling her eyes.

Kate tapped my knee. "And you follow her example."

"Okay," I said. "I feel really nervous now."

"Don't feel nervous," Kate said. She patted my thigh. "You'll be fine. Just have fun, and stay close to Tiff." She moved her hand back to the steering wheel. "She knows how to act. Even if she doesn't act like she should."

Tiffany reached up and put her hand on my shoulder. "This'll be fun. Relax."

"And even though you have a crush on me," Kate said, "it's not polite to stare."

"I'm sorry," I said, noticeably blushing. "Especially to Tiffany."

"It's okay," Tiffany said. "I'll share, as long as I get Bailey." She shook my shoulder, and we all laughed a bit of the tension off.

Kate pulled into an empty spot on the street. By the time we reached the driveway of Kate's friend's house, Tiffany and I were walking arm in arm. We approached the door and Kate rang the doorbell. An older lady opened the door. I assumed it was the girl's mother. She had a bathing suit on and her hair looked a little wet.

"Hi misses Young," Kate said. "Did the party already start?"

"Hello Kate," Mrs. Young said. "They're all around back. Is this your sister?" She looked at Tiffany.

"I guess it's been awhile since you've seen her," Kate said.

"You're growing up fast Tiffany," Mrs. Young said. "Going to be as pretty as Kate in a few years. And who's your friend?"

"This is Bailey," Tiffany said.

"Well nice to meet you Bailey," Mrs. Young said. "You're a cutie too."

"Thank you," I said.

"Rebecca is in the back," Mrs. Young said. "You girls can come through here, or go on around."

"We'll go around," Kate said. "Thanks misses Young."

"Oh call me Betty," Mrs. Young said. "You girls have fun."

All three of us walked around the house, and through a gate to the backyard. Finally we had reached the long-awaited destination of our journey. Kate stopped to talk to the girl I could only assume was Rebecca. She was a little heavier set than Kate, but not bad to look at, and a few inches taller than Kate.

Rebecca had what my mom would call a healthy weight. Her legs were really nice, but a bit muscular for my taste. I assumed they got that way from swimming a lot. She had a nice firm butt, but a bit of a problem area in her midsection. The rest of her seemed pretty fit. A nice flowing crown of wavy golden blonde hair sat atop her slightly chubby face.

Tiffany pulled me over to two empty chairs and we put our stuff down between them. Then she retrieved her towel and draped it over her chair. I followed suit, trying to emulate her the best I could. She kicked her flip-flops to the side, and pushed her shorts down. I watched the material slip from one foot and then the other. I removed my own shorts in the same fashion, but decided to slip on my flip-flops again after, as the concrete ground was scorching hot.

As I pulled out the sunscreen Tiffany gave me, she eased into the chair with her own bottle. I sat down next to her and we applied our sunscreen. It was unusual for me at first, not having to put it on most of my upper body, and Tiffany seemed to know what I was thinking as I glanced over at her. She slipped on her flip-flops and came over and put sunscreen on my back, neck and shoulders. In turn I helped her with her own back.

Then I slipped off my flip-flops, and eased myself down on my back into the chair. I sat there for quite a while, dazed and gazing at my glimmering blue toenails. At one point I tapped my feet together, feeling strangely at ease in the process. Somewhere, seemingly distant, a few of the girls shouted and splashed away in the pool. I finally felt relaxed.

A gentle warm breeze blew by me. The smell of chlorine mixed with the Hawaiian Tropic sunscreen stirred beneath my nostrils. I found myself lost in the moment. For several minutes I sat motionless in the chair, until Tiffany rustled in the chair next to me as she turned over to get some sun on her front. I realized the heat was becoming unbearable, but I turned over to take more abuse. I turned my head to face Tiffany, and she gave me a warm smile.

Finally she had had enough sun, and decided it was time for the pool. Tiffany dropped her sunglasses in the bag, and stood up next to me, casting a shadow across my midsection. I started to get up, but she stepped over and pushed me back down. She reached for the sunscreen again, and then sat on the chair next to me. I could feel her warm leg against my side through the swimsuit.

I felt her apply the now warm lotion on the back of my legs, and rub it in down to my heels and around the sides. Her hands even reached up to my bottom, and pushed the material of the swimsuit away to expose more of my bottom to the sun. I heard the bottle squirt again, and felt her hands on the exposed part of my back, and then my shoulders. As she massaged the sunscreen in, even going under the swimsuit a bit, she leaned close to speak into my ear.

"I have to use the little girl's room," she said. "We can't swim for awhile anyway, so you might as well get a nice tan. I'll probably be back to tan some more too." She finished putting the sunscreen down the backs of my arms. "Don't forget the sunscreen on your face and front, sweetie."

I felt her lightly pat my exposed backside. She pushed off of me, and was gone. The sun continued to beat down on my back. My mind wanted to concentrate on the sounds of the pool, but the heat remained relentless. I decided to turn over. I felt around for the sunscreen and eventually pulled it up to me. The bottle was hot, and the lotion hotter still. I applied it liberally to the exposed parts of my front, and at the same time tried to find Tiffany in the crowd of people.

She seemed to be inside still. I had no idea what was keeping her. As I sat and waited, Kate came over and sat down in Tiffany's chair. I expressed my opinion of the heat by dramatically fanning myself. Kate smiled at me, as she began to put sunscreen on her legs and arms. At least from this position on the chair I could watch the pool. I applied lotion to my face, and then turned my attention back toward Kate.

"Where'd Tiff go?"

"She said the restroom, but it's been awhile."

"Well," Kate said. "I'll use her chair while she's gone." She stood up and stepped over to me. "Will you do my back?"

"Sure," I said, as Kate slid onto my chair.

After a couple of minutes of excruciatingly trying to put lotion on Kate without getting excited, she thanked me and returned to her seat. The next several minutes passed slowly. Kate turned over eventually, and adjusted her swimsuit over her bottom. I couldn't help myself from stealing glances at her. Everything about her was amazing. I knew she kept fit by running and jogging, but I never knew how fit she really was until I saw her that day.

"Aw you took my chair." Tiffany said from behind me.

"I can move," Kate mumbled.

"No it's okay," Tiffany said.

"You can have mine," I said.

"I'm gonna sit by the pool," Tiffany said.

Kate reached out and touched my arm. "You need to turn back over for a few, or you'll be uneven."

Tiffany breezed by between us. She walked to the pool and eased herself down onto the edge. Before long she started kicking her feet in the water. I waved to get her attention. She only smiled and returned the wave. Then she motioned for me to turn over. I reluctantly turned over onto my stomach, and began to count off another five minutes in my head.

"Hey," Kate's voice came softly beside me. "Bailey."

I turned to look at Kate.

"My sister loves you," Kate said, low enough to where nobody else could hear.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Kate said, "and I mean the whole package."

"I don't understand."

"She thinks you're smart, funny, and fun to be with," Kate said. "Not only that, but she loves the Bailey side of you almost as much as the Zach side."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive." Kate gave me a big smile. "She likes that Bailey can do things with her like go to this party." She reached out and touched my arm again. "But don't get me wrong. She still likes having a boyfriend."

"What do you think about it?"

"Me?" Kate had to stop and think for a moment. "It's not really up to me, but…" She patted my arm. "I think you look cute either way."

"Would you ever date me?" I asked, but then quickly added. "I mean, someone like me."

"Well you're a bit too young, kiddo," she said. "But personally, I'm into pretty boys, though none of them ever dressed as a girl. So yeah. It could happen." She gave me a wink. "I'm always there as a big sister if you need me though." She removed her hand from my arm, and started to turn over. "Why don't you go sit with Tiff over there?"

I flipped over, and as I did I saw Tiffany talking with some other girl. She was obviously involved in the conversation, and I decided to not interrupt her right away. I sat on the edge of the chair and leaned closer to Kate. She had her right leg bent slightly at the knee. I stared at her legs and feet for a moment. I didn't even notice Kate had turned to look at me.

"Find something you like?"

Without pulling my stare away, I answered her with a question. "How do you stay in such great shape?"

"You think I'm in great shape?" Kate asked.

"Well yeah." I had to be honest. "Your body is amazing." I felt a little bold. "I'd totally worship it." Maybe too bold… "If I was your boyfriend I mean." I looked at her.

Kate's eyebrow raised. "Well you're not."

"I know," I said. "I'm just saying."

"Well don't," Kate said. "Tiffany was joking about sharing. I'm not gonna do my sister like that."

"Okay. I get it," I said. "I'm sorry."

"Look," Kate leaned toward me. "I get it too. You think I'm pretty." She looked over at her sister. "But think of Tiffany." She looked back at me. "I mean, she's okay with us acting all sisterly and all, but in no way would I ever cross that fine line." She gave me a tap on the head. "So get it through your head."

"Got it," I said.

"Good!" Kate sat back in her chair. "I run track and jog a lot."

"Huh?"

"That's how I stay in shape," Kate said. "Now go spend some time with her."

I removed myself from the chair. After walking a couple of feet on the hot concrete, I was sorry I left my flip-flops behind. Tiffany gave me a great big smile when she saw me coming. She patted the place next to her. I eased myself down on the edge of the pool. Then Tiffany put her arm around my shoulder.

"Done with your tanning princess?" Tiffany asked in a smug tone.

"For now," I replied, playing along with her.

"This is my best friend Bailey," Tiffany said to the other girl. "She won't be going to the same school, but maybe we can all hang out some time."

"I'd like that," the other girl responded. "I'm Tracy." She wormed her hand around Tiffany's side and across her midsection.

I took Tracy's hand and shook it gently. "Nice to meet you," I said. Then I thought for a moment of how I could sell the illusion. "Maybe we can all go shopping?"

"Okay with me," Tiffany said, showing me a big grin.

"I'd like that," Tracy said.

"Tracy is Rebecca's sister," Tiffany said.

"Oh," I said. "Well you all have a nice house here."

"Thanks," Tracy said. "They'll be shooting the fireworks off almost over our house."

"It looks really pretty over the pool," Tiffany said.

"I bet," I said. "Can't wait to see it."

The smell of chlorine and sunscreen tickled my nostrils as we sat on the edge of the pool. I kicked my feet in the water as Tiffany and Tracy shared small chat. Tracy wasn't extremely attractive, but she wasn't ugly. It's just that she wasn't my type. She looked a little pudgy like her sister, which didn't bother me, but she had straight red hair and freckles. I didn't mind the red hair so much, but I just wasn't into freckles. Eventually Tracy left us alone and went over to talk to some other girls.

"Are you having fun?" Tiffany asked.

"I'm hot, but I'm having fun," I said.

"Tracy wanted to know if I wanted to go to her birthday party in a couple of weeks." Tiffany took her arm off of my shoulder. "I was wondering if you wanted to go as Bailey?"

"I don't know," I said. "I mean I wouldn't mind doing it, but with my family and all."

"I understand," Tiffany said. "Too bad you have to deal with that."

"Yeah," I said. "Would've been a lot more fun if I could just go without questioning."

"I'm having fun too," she said. "But it's way too hot."

"To be honest, I kind of like being Bailey," I said. "But if I get caught, it's all over."

"Don't get caught!" She patted my arm. "It's not worth it."

"Anyway," she said. "That's your swimsuit for the rest of the summer. You're too cute in it."

I looked at her shaking my head. "I think I'll have to pass."

"You'll probably reconsider once you see the tan line you're getting today."

"My gosh, I didn't even think about that." I started to shift my body around uncomfortably. "What am I going to tell my parents?"

"Relax," Tiffany said. "We'll figure something out. Just don't make a scene."

"Tom's gonna kill me."

"Maybe you can tan tomorrow in my backyard," Tiffany said. "You did say you could spend the night."

"You really think your parents will let a boy spend the night?"

"Not a boy," Tiffany said. "Bailey."

"Oh," I said reluctantly. "Right."

"It'll be fine," Tiffany said. "Now let's swim!"

Tiffany pushed off of the edge of the pool. She splashed into the water, sending some of it onto me. For a moment I sat frozen, like I was mad she splashed me. It was such a girly thing to do, and I had no idea why I did it. The thought didn't stay with me long, as I quickly followed Tiffany into the pool. I pushed off of the edge and fell toward the rippling water.

The instant coolness of the water woke me up. I felt alive as I found myself below the water's surface. The water felt great after being cooked under the hot sun. When I rose back above water, I saw Tiffany next to me. She pushed her hair back out of her face, and then looked at me with a satisfied smile. Then when I pushed my own hair back, her face dropped into a pout.

"Aw," she said. "The water ruined your hair."

"We can fix it later."

"Ooh… can I curl it?"

I gave her a playfully angry look, then splashed her. She laughed and splashed me back. Then she swam away, and I gave chase. It didn't take me long to catch up to her, and when I did I got a hold of her right ankle. Tiffany tried to kick away, but I pulled her back to me. I managed to get my arm around her left knee and pull her under. Beneath the water, we pushed and pulled at each other, until eventually we had to come up for air.

We enjoyed our time together in the pool. At one point we raced each other across the pool and back. Tiffany beat me by quite a bit, but I didn't seem to mind. In all honesty I wasn't much of a swimmer, or really much of anything when it came to athletics. Since I had no desire to become an athlete, it kept me focused on school work. Though really not hard to do, I managed to get through sixth grade with only one grade lower than an A. Ironically it happened to be a B in sixth grade gym, the year they decided to start grading kids on the extra curricular classes.

Other girls went in and out of the pool, but for the most part Tiffany and I stayed near each other. We stayed in the pool for a long time that afternoon. Several times Tiffany made it a point to "innocently" rub up against me. We both knew we couldn't take it beyond that, as we were in front of about twenty girls. I think it was around five in the afternoon when we finally got out. Tiffany wanted a little more sun, and I figured I could dry off in the chair next to her. I followed her out of the pool.

I slipped into the lounge chair face down. My back met the Summer sun and eagerly soaked in the warmth. Only a few hours remained until the fireworks started. I could feel the coolness of the water on my bare skin start to disappear. Time ticked away so slowly, and my mind tried to wrap around the concept of being my girlfriend's girl friend part time. When I thought about it, I admit I got a little excited. It seemed like a challenge.

Tiffany had pulled her hair up, to get sun on her neck and shoulders. She really did look cute. Her innocent face beamed in the sunlight. While not exactly matching her sister's form, I noticed her backside was pretty nice. In a few years Tiffany would basically be Kate. If I could manage to stick with her that long, it would be more than worth it. Kate was right.

"What?" Tiffany's eyes had opened to see me staring at her.

"You're so pretty," I said, quiet enough so that she could only hear me.

Tiffany smiled. "You are too," she said.

"Would you be happy with only one side of me?"

"Yes," Tiffany said. "Either side." She winked at me, and then turned over onto her back.

I pushed myself over on the lounge chair. Tiffany had her eyes closed. I decided to let her enjoy herself, and stay quiet. As I basked beneath the sun, I thought of the way Kate had been sitting earlier. I mimicked her, and slid my right foot back. I figured it must do something to enhance the tan. So there I sat, with my right knee slightly bent, tanning beneath the setting sun.

After several minutes passed, Tiffany grabbed my wrist. She wormed her hand down into mine as my eyes opened. When I saw her sitting up and tugging at my hand, I assumed she wanted to go back to the pool. She pulled at me long enough to get me to sit up. Then she leaned forward. She stood and took my other hand, essentially pulling me to my feet. I shifted my weight on the warm concrete beneath me.

"What is it?"

"Just come with me," Tiffany said.

"Where?"

"Come on!" She gave me an excited look.

I started to slip my feet into the flip-flops, but she pulled me away from them.

"Leave them," she said. "We'll be back."

Tiffany tugged me over to a small stall, between the pool and the house. Before I could say anything, she pulled me inside of it. She hit a button to activate a shower, and we both jumped when the freezing cold water hit us. By the time I had stopped shivering and screaming like a girl, Tiffany had the temperature of the water a little warmer, though not hot. She pulled me up close to her, under the shower jet. Then I felt her hands on my shoulders, and she put her forehead against mine.

"Just relax," she said. "Nobody can see us here."

Her hands slid down my arms. The water allowed her actions to be fluid. I pushed my face under the cascading water. My eyes were shut when Tiffany's hands reached mine. I suddenly felt a bit nervous, as she lifted my hands and placed them on her hips. While the chlorine washed out of my hair, I opened my eyes and stared at our feet. I tried to tune out everything but the feelings around me at the moment.

"I really appreciate what you did today," Tiffany said softly.

"I'm just glad you had a nice time."

"I still am."

Tiffany's head tilted upward, nudging my own head up to face her neck. I soon felt her soft lips on my forehead. My typical boy instincts filled me with excitement at her touch. Though another side of me fought to keep control. If I revealed my true identity, I would be deemed a pervert, and probably the whole town would hear about tonight. I felt her hands run up the front of my swimsuit. They stopped on my chest.

"Are you having fun?" Tiffany asked.

"Perhaps a bit more now," I admitted.

She started to grope and massage my chest, as if I had breasts underneath. In response I released a long breath across her neck. She reacted to this by running her hands up into my hair. I felt her give me a gentle tug. My head lifted to where I looked at her eye to eye. Our lips met.

Water tumbled down our faces. It rolled down our noses and around our lips. Breathing became difficult. We pulled away, only to take a breath. Then we were back to kissing. Though we both knew there was definitely something beyond this point, neither one of us seemed sure how to get there. All we had ever done was kiss. So kiss we did.

Soon my hands were inching up the back of Tiffany's swimsuit. I got to her shoulders and simply held her. She had dropped her hands down to my bottom. As I brought my hands around to her front, my eyes opened to peek where they were at. When my hands moved over Tiffany's breasts, her eyes shot open. She pulled away from our kiss to take a breath. I thought for sure she would chew me out when I started to massage her small mounds, but instead she moaned quietly. Then her eyes shut, and her lips were back on mine.

I continued to massage Tiffany's breasts as we kissed. She started to play with the back of my swimsuit. More directly, it was the edge of the leg holes in back. Eventually she wormed a few fingers in between the swimsuit and my bottom. Then she pushed both of her hands in. Tiffany did a half giggle and half moan when I shifted uncomfortably.

I jumped when she clamped her hands down on my butt cheeks. She started to squeeze my bottom, and pull it apart. I could feel the material of the swimsuit filling the void of my crack. She kept going until it felt like I had on a thong. Our kiss broke again. After a quick breath of air, she pulled me closer and put her lips next to my left ear.

"Careful," she whispered. "They're a little sore."

My hands eased up on her breasts. Instead of groping them, I ran my thumbs around them in circles. She seemed to enjoy this, or so I thought. Either her light moans were from pleasure or pain. Regardless, her fingers began to inch their way closer and closer to the tip of my penis. It still sat tucked away between my legs.

Tiffany gripped my bottom hard. She pushed her lips against mine in another passionate kiss. I had never seen her like this before. She pulled me forward, and at the same time she thrust forward. Her pelvis hit solidly against mine. Unfortunately my testicles had gotten caught between, as I had pushed them back up inside of me. I figured it would look better that way.

I moaned loudly against Tiffany's kiss. She read it as pleasure, rather than pain. So she did it again, and again she misread my moan. I pulled away for air. Before I could say something to her, she locked her lips onto mine. She bumped her pelvis against mine several more times. On the last one, she held against me tightly. Soon her pelvis was moving side to side as she grinded against me.

What had been at first a wincing pain, now subsided into a numbness somewhere between pleasure and pain. It felt like I had been racked right after, and right before, the most pleasurable thing I'd experienced in my life. I couldn't blame Tiffany. She didn't know. There wasn't any way she could've known she had racked me about ten times. For all she knew, she had been exciting me.

I worked through it. My mind started to focus on other things. Though none of it felt as charged as it was before. We continued to kiss. I moved my hands back around to rub her back. This made her almost purr, which intrigued me. Her fingers began to inch closer to the head of my penis again. In a few short seconds she would be touching it for the first time.

"Food will be served soon!" Mrs. Young's voice rang out from nowhere. "Then we'll all come out to the pool area for fireworks!"

Tiffany's hands froze. Another half of an inch and she would've made contact. We both sighed in frustration, and broke our kiss. I felt her hands slip from under my swimsuit. Then she quickly pulled it back out to cover my bottom. After a few quick pecks on the lips, we both dropped our hands to our sides. Her forehead fell gently against mine.

"Can you…" Tiffany put her hands back up on my chest. "Can Bailey stay the night?"

I finally started to see signs of confusion in Tiffany. I'd only assumed she had wrapped her mind around this more than I had. However, she had been taking this step by step like I had been. She didn't plan this. I didn't plan this. Not even her sister planned this. It had just happened. Now she had trouble figuring out which side of me she was with.

"If you have something for her to sleep in," I said.

"She can sleep in my bed."

Tiffany raised her head to reveal a mischievous grin. She spun me around, and hit the knob on the shower over to cold. I started to scream, but she quickly slapped her hand over my mouth. Ice cold water cascaded down my front. It eased the dull pain in my abdomen, and effectively froze my lust for Tiffany. I danced around in it for a few moments, until Tiffany put her head on my shoulder.

"Bailey better behave if she stays over," Tiffany whispered in my ear. "I can't have her jumping me in the middle of the night." She uncovered my mouth.

"That goes for you too!"

I grabbed Tiffany, and swung her around into the cold water. Her mouth flew open, but she quickly covered it herself. She did an encore of the same cold water dance I had performed. In the process she managed to swat me a few times. Then she started to miss. Eventually she gave up and started to let the shower calm her down a bit. I came over and gave her a quick peck on the forehead. She pushed me away.

Tiffany hit the shower off, and squeezed the excess water from her hair. I took it as a cue to do the same. Part of me felt relieved we had ended it where we ended it. I knew for sure that I had absolutely no clue what I was doing. Though I couldn't read minds, I was pretty sure Tiffany didn't know what she was doing either. Both of us needed to cool down. I wondered if we could control ourselves later.

She pushed me through the door to the outside. We both exited, the whole time trying to contain our laughter. I was greeted outside by an older girl walking toward the stall. Part of me hoped we didn't keep her waiting, while the other part didn't care. We got to our chairs and Tiffany pushed my towel into my hands. I mimicked her moves to dry my hair. She patted herself dry, and I followed suit. Then I slipped my borrowed shorts and flip-flops on.

Tiffany pulled her lipstick from the bag, and waved me forward with her index finger. So I stepped over to her as she held up the lipstick. I watched her curiously, as she popped the cap, and twisted the waxy substance up in the tube. She put a light application on my lips, and then handed the tube to me. When she puckered up, I knew she wanted me to put it on her. I held the tube up to her lips.

The whole time I put the lipstick on her lips, Tiffany looked me in the eyes. Her entire demeanor seemed to be comprised of fascination, love, a hint of lust, and probably more questions than could ever be answered. From our own little secret ritual to tonight, something had changed. Tiffany liked some aspect of me dressed like a girl, and though she admitted she liked the plain Zachary side of me too, it didn't show much. I decided to wait and see. It had only been a week.

Inside, Mrs. Young had set the table with everything ranging from cold cuts to carrot sticks. It essentially was an enormous buffet. I settled on a ham and cheese sandwich, with some watermelon. She even had it setup to where we could make our own salads. I chose to have a small salad, carrot sticks and celery with some ranch dressing. Truth be told, the other girls ate more than I did that night.

I ate mostly in silence. The other girls gabbed back and forth. Usually bursts of conversation came during repeat trips to the table. I did go back for some more watermelon and a few cookies. There was just so much food there, I almost felt guilty not eating more of it. I swear to this day that Tiffany ate her weight in watermelon and tomatoes. She kept going back to nab them from the table.

We spent probably a good hour or two inside eating. Eventually Mrs. Young nudged us outside for the show. The lights had been turned on in the pool. It looked nice and peaceful with the glow rippling along the water. Most of the girls wanted to stay by the pool in the chairs, but some of them wandered over to the grass. I felt someone come up behind me, and realized it was Tiffany. She handed me a stick of gum.

"Do you want to go over there?" Tiffany asked.

I put the gum in my mouth as I looked to where she was pointing. It was a somewhat dark and secluded spot off to the side. I nodded to her. She walked over to grab a large towel, and came back to me. Then she grabbed my hand and hurried me off to the grassy spot. I nearly tripped on the flip-flops, because of her hurrying me.

Tiffany spread the large towel out over the grass. She situated it somewhat uphill so we could sit back and watch the fireworks. Then she kicked off her sandals and fell to her knees on the towel. I kicked off my own sandals. She tugged at the towel hanging from my shoulders. I gracefully went down onto my knees facing her.

"We got a few minutes before they start," Tiffany said. She sat back and put her legs out in front of her.

"What do you want to do?" I lowered my bottom down onto my heels, but continued to kneel next to her.

"We can talk," she said. "Did you have fun?"

"I can honestly say I did." I leaned forward a bit. "Even before the shower."

"I had a lot of fun too." She glanced around. "I didn't know how you'd respond to the whole swimsuit and pool idea."

"Well…" I moved over closer to her, deciding to put my legs out in front of me. "I'm really confused about all of this."

"Like about what?" Tiffany scooted even closer to me. We sat facing each other with our legs sticking out opposite ways. "What do you mean?"

"I can't decide," I said. "I mean… I don't know how to explain it." A nervous laugh followed. "Maybe it's just me."

"You can tell me," she said. "I want you to."

"Well I was thinking it wouldn't be horrible…" I stopped to look around. "It wouldn't be horrible if my stepfather actually forced me to be Bailey."

"You want to be forced?"

"No," I said, retracting a bit in disgust. "That's not what I mean."

"You don't think I'm forcing you do you?"

I put my hand on Tiffany's leg. "Not at all."

"Okay. That's good," Tiffany said. "Because if you want to stop, we'll stop right now."

"We don't have to," I said.

"I won't be mad," Tiffany said. "Just tell me to stop and we'll stop."

"I…" My head lowered. "That's just it." I looked at Tiffany with every bit of confusion I could show on my face. "I don't want to stop. At least not around you."

"Eventually it'll have to," Tiffany said. She glanced around. "I mean you'll become a man, and after that…" She put her hand on my knee. "I never expected it to last forever."

"I know…" I pulled at the grass. "I just wish I could be more free with it now."

"We could have a ton of fun if you didn't have Tom on your back about it."

"He thinks I want to be a woman," I said quietly. "Just because I put on the clothes."

"Maybe we should stop," she said. "Before things get complicated."

"After tonight?"

"Of course!" she said. "Bailey already agreed to stay the night."

"That she did." I smiled at Tiffany.

"Too bad," she said. "You make a really cute girl."

Tiffany swung her feet around. I moved out of her way, so she could put her head down about where my knees were. Then I crawled around her. Eventually I situated myself to where we were lying next to each other. She shifted around on the blanket. I could feel the warmth of her body getting closer. For a moment I thought she was going to snuggle with me, but instead she settled her body at an angle away from me. Our shoulders touched, and when we leaned our heads in, they rested against each other.

"I love you Tiffany," I whispered.

"I love you too." She turned toward me slightly. "Both of you."

Soon brilliant colors were bursting in the air. Shapes ranging from stars to umbrellas of sparkling light flashed before my eyes. The thunderous explosions of each followed shortly after. As the night sky filled with smoke and fireworks, Tiffany wormed her hand into mine. We held each other's hands tightly through the entire show. I was happy to be with her, and even more so when I knew she was happy to be with me. For now it didn't matter to her which "me" I happened to be.

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To Be Continued...
 

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Part 4

I could hardly sleep. Tiffany's arms held fast around me in a loving embrace. She felt so warm and so soft. The moon seeped through her window and lit up her angelic face. Her hazel eyes were shut in such a way where I knew there was contentment behind them. Every so often her smooth brow would twitch into a furrow, pulling her thin eyebrows down as she dreamed of things I could only guess about. Beneath her small straight nose, her pouty lips would part every once in awhile like she wanted to speak.

Several times I wanted to kiss those lips, but I feared waking her up. She obviously wasn't a light sleeper, as I had been running my fingers through her silky black hair for about an hour. At least she slept through that. I didn't want to wake her. Even though I had a ton of questions running through my mind, I simply wanted to watch her sleep. Her bare foot rubbed up my bare leg.

A few hours earlier we had returned from an all girl Fourth of July pool party. I managed to survive being Bailey for the party, with merely a swimsuit as my cover. In all honesty, nobody really paid much attention to Tiffany and I, as we hardly fit in with the older girls there. They were all Kate's crowd; Tiffany's older sister. The fireworks show at the high school was spectacular, and I enjoyed watching them with Tiffany. However, when we got back to her place, I started to feel a bit nervous about staying the night.

Tiffany took the first shower, giving me time to call my mother. I'd spoken to my mother twice that evening. Once to get permission to go to the party, and the other call to get permission to stay the night. Initially it had been my mother's idea to let me stay the night. When I called her back she seemed a bit reluctant, but still allowed me to stay. Her lecture on how to behave was nearly as long as Tiffany's shower.

I have to admit I was a bit shocked when Tiffany came back in the room wearing only her towel from the shower. She had the fluffy, dark red cotton rectangle wrapped tightly around her chest and dangling at her knees. Granted I had just spent the entire evening with her in less material, but it still shocked me. She closed the door to her room with the only audible sound being the click of her lock. Then she spun around to face me.

"Did your mom okay it?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said. "She gave me a long lecture about it, but she said it would be okay."

"I've been thinking all night of some way I could repay you," Tiffany said.

"You really don't have to," I said. "I had fun."

"I want to."

Tiffany moved her hands up toward the top of her towel. She pulled at the tight roll holding the towel on her body. After pulling it loose, she held the towel in place. Only her grip on the top of the towel kept it from cascading away from her body. She took a step forward. Her foot sank into the plush carpet. She took another step.

Each step she took toward me sent my heart racing more and more. I thought it would leap from my chest when she got within a step of me. She reached out and tugged at the white knit shorts around my waist. I took the hint and dropped them to the floor. Tiffany coaxed me to take a step forward out of the shorts. She reached up with her free hand, and pushed it gently onto my chest.

Do you think you can handle this?" she asked in a hushed voice.

I lifted both of my hands up to hers. Her hand was warm on top of the swimsuit material; the dark red swimsuit she had let me borrow to be Bailey. I placed my hands over her hand, and held it tightly against my chest. My heart pounded. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them I stared into her eyes. After a few calm breaths, I nodded.

"This only goes as far as I want it to," Tiffany said. "I want to do this, but if you step out of line, it's over." She lowered her eyebrows. "Understand?"

"I understand," I managed to choke out.

"I love you Zachary," she said.

"I love you too."

In all honesty, I didn't have a damn clue what love meant at the age of twelve. At least I didn't know what it meant on that level. I loved my mom and my brother. Tom could go trip into a dark hole for all I cared. I loved my goldfish when I was nine, but it died. Hell, I even loved some of my toys, and especially my bike. Yet this kind of love threw me for a loop. Maybe Tiffany knew more about what was going on than I did, but I still loved her with what I knew of love at that age.

Her towel slipped from her fingertips. It cascaded down her body into a pool at her feet. For a long moment I continued to stare straight ahead. The safest spot to look was at her face. She seemed timid, but also showed signs of the deepest sincerity. It was a look that eluded me at the time, but one I grew to understand completely as I grew older. When she reached out and pulled my right hand to her chest, I found her heart racing too. In fact, it was nearly beating with mine.

"Well?"

I continued to look into her eyes. "I'm not sure what to do," I said nervously.

Tiffany smiled, letting out a tense breath. "You can start by looking."

For some reason I felt like the only one not experienced in this area of life. My eyes drifted slowly away from their locked stare into Tiffany's eyes. I could see her tan starting to come in from the day. The area covered by her one piece swimsuit contrasted heavily with the darkened skin. Her breasts were pale white except for the dark pink areas around her nipples. I continued my exploratory gaze down past her belly button, which sat amidst smooth white flesh.

Half of me was scared to continue on down her body, but I felt a strong sense of curiosity weighing on the other half. Our "sex education class" in sixth grade was a somewhat informal half hour lecture by some doctor. We were split into two rooms with girls in one and boys in the other. So the entire lecture was about how boys would change on our side, leaving us clueless to anything else. While thinking about all of this, my eyes had settled on Tiffany's pubic area.

"You're beautiful," I said, as my eyes came back up slowly to meet hers.

"Thank you…" She took both of my hands in hers. "I was so scared to do this, but I wanted to show you." She hung her head down. "It sounds stupid doesn't it?"

"No," I said, "but you didn't have to…"

"I just wanted to show you something special," she said. "Because you've shown me something special about yourself."

"Well I think you're pretty special."

Tiffany's head shot upward. "Things like that," she said. "You're kind and sensitive. Not like the other boys our age." A smile grew on her face, which ended somewhere between cheery and content.

"I'm just being honest."

Tiffany threw her arms around me. As we held each other in a tight embrace, I felt a little uneasy. I could feel her warm body against mine, with only a thin piece of nylon and spandex between us. Instead of my hands holding some type of cloth, they held her naked flesh. I couldn't help, but to run my hands down her back. Before I could reach her bottom, she pulled away from me.

"Maybe we should get dressed," Tiffany said.

My hands jerked away from her. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Tiffany said, assuring me with a kind smile. "I just don't know how much privacy we'll have. You can watch if you want."

"Watch you dress?"

"Sure," she said. "Why not? Women even used to help each other dress in the old days. How do you think they got each other into corsets?" She stepped over to her dresser. "Do you wanna help me dress?"

My mind was far from corsets and women helping other women dress. I stared at her smooth bottom bouncing as she walked. Somehow she had managed to get a little sun on it, so the lower part of her cheeks were tan. I figured she pulled her suit up a bit to get that effect. Then I realized she did that on me while I was first tanning. I made a mental note to check out the tan line damage in her bathroom mirror.

"It's not polite to stare," Tiffany said.

I looked up to notice her looking back at me over her shoulder. "Sorry," I said. "You're just cute back there too." My lips worked into a nervous smile.

"Well enjoy it while it lasts," she said, turning back to the dresser. "Might be awhile 'til I show it again." She started to rummage through the drawers. "Did you want to help me dress?"

"I guess so," I said, with the confidence of a ninety pound sumo wrestler.

She turned around abruptly. My eyes, which were fixated on her round bottom, now locked onto her pubic area. Something about it felt more forbidden. I decided that maybe it wasn't polite to stare after all, and my eyes started dancing around frantically. She noticed. Her hands fell to her hips.

"What?" She looked at me. "You can stare at my backside, but not the front?"

"I…" My eyes met hers. "It's just…"

"Have you ever seen one before?"

"No," I said. "I mean I've seen those weird diagrams at the doctor…"

"Weird?"

"Well, the area isn't weird." I glanced down again. "I meant the diagrams…" I looked back up at her. "You know what I mean."

"I do," she said, with a light giggle. She looked down. "It's called a vulva." She raised her head slightly. "And to be completely honest, I haven't seen… you know…" Her eyes hinted at my groin.

"Really?"

"Uh… yeah! Really! I wouldn't have said it if I had." Her sarcasm seemed distasteful, but lightened the mood.

"Do you want to?" I asked.

"Probably best if we didn't right now." She held up a pair of pale pink panties. "If you don't feel comfortable, you can watch."

"No," I choked out. "I can help you."

"Well come here then."

Tiffany enticed me to come to her with her index finger. After a few nervous steps forward, she stopped me. She pushed the panties into my hand. We both stood there in silence. Finally she gave a dramatic sigh and acted like her patience with me had run out. I didn't know what to do. She offered no suggestions either.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked quietly.

"Dress me!" she said.

I held out the panties in front of me at about waist level. Tiffany shook her head. She held out her hand with her palm facing out. I stood there ignorantly as she studied her nails. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. Then she turned her head to look at me straight on. She put her hand up to flip her hair out.

"Dress me like you would a princess," Tiffany said, feigning dramatic disinterest in me. "Like you're my chambermaid." She then pointed down at her feet.

"Oh!" I finally caught on to the little game we were playing. "I'm sorry… your highness."

"That's better," she said with a pleasant smile. "Now attend to your duties."

Most people would think Tiffany and I were nuts, but I rather enjoyed the little make believe games we played. I was always slow to catch on to when Tiffany switched to role-playing mode, but never unwilling to participate. The first time I dressed as Bailey at her house, she acted like a fashionista during the photos. There were other times we'd just randomly pick a part to play and go with it. I think most of the time Tiffany used it in uncomfortable situations to take our minds away from the more serious surroundings.

My knees sank into the plush gray carpet. I moved the panties toward her feet, but didn't hold them out for her to step into. Instead, I lowered myself even more and hovered my lips over her feet. Then with all the consideration I could muster, I lowered my lips onto the top of her left foot. I left a lingering kiss on the top of her arch, and then repeated it on her right foot. Afterwards I pulled back, and held out the panties for her to step into.

"You please me chambermaid," Tiffany said above me. "Perhaps I shall allow you to warm my bed tonight."

I looked up at her, trying hard to sustain my composure. Tiffany on the other hand appeared to be fighting back laughter. She reached down and patted my head. I almost laughed, but then looked back to the task at hand. Carefully I lifted the panties up her legs. My fingers grazed gently against her soft skin. They passed her knees.

About the time I reached her upper thighs with the panties, she put her hand down to stop me. I tried to look back up at her, but she held my head to where I stared straight ahead at her vulva. The smooth mound between her legs seemed a bit puffy now. I really hadn't noticed it before, but then again hadn't been looking too intently. Now I became even more curious.

"Do you think it's cute too?" Tiffany asked.

"Very," I said. "Not like what I have."

"And do you find the backside to your liking as well?" Tiffany turned in front of me, pushing her bare bottom close to my face.

"Yes princess," I said.

"You may kiss it if you like."

Truthfully I hadn't even thought of kissing it. I thought I would sit and stare at it for awhile. Then when I had sufficiently burned a mental image into my brain, I could finish putting Tiffany's panties on. However, Tiffany asked me to kiss it. She wanted me to show it affection. I still couldn't process this all in my young mind, but I decided to fulfill her request.

Gracefully I let my head fall toward her, and my lips fell soundly upon the left cheek of her backside. I believe at that moment I thought this was the thing my mother told me not to engage in, though she hadn't come out and said it in exact terms. Tiffany let out a soft moan when I made contact. I pushed my lips gently against her soft, yet firm bottom, and gave her a lingering kiss.

In fact, she allowed me to plant several lingering kisses on her bottom. I must have covered her backside with around twenty kisses. Eventually she put her hands on mine, and helped me pull up her panties the rest of the way. They stretched nicely across her tight bottom. I instantly drew a comparison of her bottom to Kate's bottom. Tiffany was already growing into her sister.

While I knelt behind Tiffany, looking at her bottom, she pulled out a flimsy pair of sleep shorts from the dresser drawer. She carefully turned to face me, and handed the item of clothing down to me. The shorts were a deep green color, and made almost entirely of satin. When I lowered them to Tiffany's feet she wouldn't step into them. I instantly figured out what she wanted, and lowered my face to give her another kiss on each foot.

"You're learning fast," Tiffany said, with a hint of laughter in her voice.

She stepped her left foot into the shorts, and then her right. The satin material glided up her legs. Without stopping, she allowed me to pull them all the way up. The elastic band stretched snugly across her hips, about three inches below her bellybutton. She patted me on the head again, and I looked up at her. Then she coaxed me to stand. While I stood, Tiffany had turned back to the dresser.

She turned back quickly. Her small breasts settled in front of my eyes. Though I didn't know cup sizes at all back then, I clearly know now that she was about halfway to an A cup. There definitely seemed to be an evident display of growth. I thought I had noticed it the other day, but now I was absolutely sure of it. Some tiny little part of me envied her breasts growing. Before long I wouldn't be able to easily pass next to her. She put a slinky top in my hands, the same color as the shorts. Then she held her arms out in front of her.

"Maybe I can teach you to pick out my outfits for me, and I won't have to work at all."

"Right," I said. "I'm sure your parents wouldn't mind me coming over every day to dress you."

We both shared a small laugh as I slid the top over her arms. I lifted it over her head, and she braced herself by putting her arms on my shoulders. The top fell gently over her body. It nearly met the top of the shorts, but left a bit of skin showing with her arms up. Her clothes felt so slick and slippery. I wanted to rub up against her, but I contained myself.

Tiffany crossed her arms behind my head, and leaned closer to me. I put my hands on her waist. Then I put my lips on her lips. For a small moment we kissed. She playfully rubbed her nose against mine, and then embraced me in a light hug, trying not to get her clean clothes against my swimsuit. Her hair, half dry and half wet, felt soft against my cheek. I wanted to hold her forever, but she pulled away too soon for my taste.

"I put a new toothbrush in the bathroom. You can wear the clothes I left in there," she said. "They're like these only blue."

"What about this?" I pulled on the swimsuit.

"You can leave it over the shower." She walked over and collected her towel from the floor. "There's all kinds of soap and shampoo in there. Just find what you like." She pushed the towel into my hand. "Take this with you please. Act like it's yours if anyone stops you."

"Sure no problem," I said.

"When you're done, come to Kate's room."

"Why?"

"She has all of those pictures we took on her computer," Tiffany said. "Thought you might want to see them."

"Oh!" I said. "I would actually."

"Go!" Tiffany said, walking over to unlock the door. "I have to talk to Kate about something."

Tiffany opened the door and let me out. I could hear a few voices coming from the living room. Apparently some of the guests stayed a bit later than others. Probably they had drank a bit too much, and were waiting to sober up for the ride home.

After checking to see if the coast was clear, I stepped out into the hallway. I heard soft music coming from Kate's room, and a blow-dryer. Tiffany slipped into Kate's room, and shut the door. Suddenly I heard a loud voice behind me.

"You lost?"

I turned to see Tiffany's dad at the end of the hallway. "I was just getting a towel from Tiff," I managed to squeak out. "She gave me something to sleep in too."

"Ah okay," he said. "So you all set then?"

"All set." I smiled. The poor guy was drunk, but a happy drunk at least. I imagined him seeing double of me, one side Bailey and the other side Zachary. "How was your night?"

"Oh… great!" he bellowed. "You girls have fun at the pool?"

"We had a blast."

"I'm glad you girls had fun," he said. "The hot on the shower sticks sometimes. I dunno if they told you, but fair warning so you don't burn yourself."

"Thanks," I said. "They did mention it."

He nodded a moment after processing what I said. "Well have fun, but don't stay up too late." He turned to walk toward the living room.

"Goodnight Mr. Stewart."

"Night…" He turned to give me a confused look.

"Bailey," I said.

"Right Bailey," he said. "Like the drink." He laughed to himself. "Baileys Irish Cream?" He smiled as he turned and walked off.

I rushed into the bathroom before anyone else could stop me in the hallway. All I needed was someone sober to corner me into a conversation, and they'd eventually figure out I wasn't a little girl. My mind seemed a bit rattled at the moment anyway. I pushed the door closed, and locked it quickly. Tiffany's towel dropped from my hand into a hamper near the door.

Their bathroom dwarfed the one at my house. It had two sinks, side by side, and a large mirror as long as the countertop. The toilet even had it's own private area in the corner, sort of like a stall in a public restroom. I figured for two girls getting ready in the morning, the bathroom seemed ideal.

They kept everything decorated in a dark red, with large velvety bath rugs over the tile floor. My favorite feature of the entire room happened to be the shower. Though they didn't have a bathtub, they had a large tiled shower. It came complete with an area to sit, large enough to curl up on and read a book. Tiffany sometimes called it a steam room.

I saw a pink razor sitting on one of the ledges, and imagined Kate sitting in the shower and shaving her legs. Then I imagined Tiffany soon shaving hers. Hell, the shower was big enough that I could've stood in it and watched without getting wet. For some reason I even thought about shaving my own some day. I turned to the mirror.

No wonder their dad still thought I was a girl. What boy in their right mind would paint his nails, throw on a one piece swimsuit, and pretty their lips up with lipstick? Furthermore, that boy would have to be insane to sit out in the sun all day and tan in that swimsuit. I must've been insane, because I did all of it. Not to mention my tan had turned out incredibly dark.

So dark, in fact, I started to panic. Even if I tanned in the morning, it wasn't a usual tan for me. When I tanned, it was a farmers tan, and fairly light. I seldom had my shirt off unless I went swimming. Though I did go swimming, my stepfather didn't know. Tom would think something was up if all of me showed up tanned as well. He'd wonder why I would take my shirt off at a cookout.

Yet I had to tan. If I revealed the tan line of a swimsuit to Tom, he'd be madder than hell. The more I had to worry about him, the less enjoyable this all became for me. I reached up, prepared to pull the straps of the swimsuit away from my shoulders. Suddenly I felt nervous tension ball up inside of me. As I pulled the swimsuit off, I felt a bit of relief. The tan wasn't as bad as I built it up in my own mind. It was nothing another thirty minutes of sun wouldn't cure. I just had to be careful not to burn.

I peeled the swimsuit down to my hips. Curiosity made me turn to look at my back. It looked like a mirror image of the front, but the back scooped in a lot lower. I was glad I moved my hair out of the way like Tiffany did. At least I got the tan up my neck. This could be fixed. I turned back around. It could all be fixed.

The sun did a number on my hair as well. I started the day with my normal dirty blonde hair. Now it had turned about three shades lighter. It did that any time I was outside in the sun for awhile. Not that I minded. I liked the unique quality of my hair. However, with my tan and the way my hair stood, I looked like one of those beach bunnies who sat for hours by the surf.

I pushed the swimsuit down past my knees, and stepped out of it. My tan resembled Tiffany's almost exactly. In fact, I looked like a girl with the exception of the male genitalia now falling back into place. Soreness crept into my scrotum along with the area Tiffany had banged up against in the shower earlier. I ran my hands over the area and found a slight bruise starting. When I rubbed my testes gently, I felt a dulling pain spread up my abdomen. I decided not to touch them again.

I removed myself from the passive gaze of the mirror. Scooping up the swimsuit, I walked to the shower and flipped it over the top. After a quick trip to the stool to relieve myself, I stepped into the shower. I closed the large fake glass door of the shower. The water came on warm. My head drooped, and my eyes closed as the water rolled down my body.

They had a ton of body washes in the shower, but the only bar of soap I found was Dove. It smelled alright, so I decided to use it. I instantly loved the silky feel it gave my skin. Growing up in a house of three guys and one woman, the only soap I knew was Dial. I recall in fourth grade we did some soap carving in art, and I begged to get Irish Spring. I thought it would be neat to carve green soap. Well, I got my request for art class, but was still stuck with Dial at home.

My thoughts on soap carried me through the mundane tasks of lathering up and rinsing. Then I stood and stared at the vast array of shampoos. They had everything from Nexus to Herbal Essence. I chose Nexus, as it had a sweet coconut smell. It left me in the mood in which my body and hair reflected. I felt like a girl who had been stranded on a deserted island.

After shutting the shower off, I stepped out into the colder room. Goosebumps lined my body, and I quickly reached for a towel. As I toweled myself dry, my eyes wandered over the outfit Tiffany left for me. It did indeed resemble the one I helped her into earlier. Though it had the same silkiness to its satin material, the color was a pale blue. Along with it were a pair of pale blue panties.

"Am I ever going to not wear panties?" I mumbled to myself.

I tossed the towel over to the hamper. My hands reached for the panties. I lowered them to the floor and put my right foot through one leg hole, and repeated the same with my left foot. They glided slowly up my legs, stopping when I reached my mid thigh. The soreness returned to my abdomen, as I began to handle my testes. I pushed through the pain, deciding I wanted them back up in my body again.

Finally they settled into the cavity above my penis. The pain slowly subsided. I pushed my penis back between my legs, and pulled the panties up the rest of the way. Instantly I noticed they were different. They weren't bikini style like I had bought, and they weren't the full brief like Tiffany's other pair. Instead they sat on my hips, not coming up fully to my waist. The feeling was different, unusual, but not displeasing. I think I still preferred bikini style.

I ran my fingers across the satin shorts. Then I gathered some of the material and rubbed it between my fingers. It felt so soft and slick. I'd never worn anything close to it in my life, and here I was about to sleep in it. I slowly removed the shorts from the towel rack. Stooping over, I held them low enough to step into. I took my time dragging them up my legs.

They felt fantastic. The satin felt cool and fluid, almost like liquid sliding up my legs. When they reached my hips I could feel them gently brush my upper thighs. They had the feeling of covering, but yet not being there. I ran my hands over them. My hands slid across them, gliding from my hips to my backside. I had to wear more.

Luckily the matching top hung delicately within my grasp. It slipped over my head with ease, and flowed down my upper body. Now I felt the full effect of the outfit. The material felt light, slick and soft all at the same time. It didn't cling like cotton. Instead it slid when I moved, gliding across my skin, which was now silky itself from the soap I used.

While I could have stood there all night rubbing myself, I thought maybe Tiffany would miss me. I gathered myself together, and stepped over to the mirror. The small straps of the top failed to cover the inch wide area of white the swimsuit left. I picked up the toothbrush Tiffany had left for me.

As I brushed my teeth I noticed with the lipstick gone, I looked too much like my former self again. Even if I managed to get past a few drunk people tonight, I still might have to deal with their parents in the morning. Granted with my tan and hair lighter, I did slightly look like a different person. If anything, the shock of them realizing it was Zachary, would give me enough time to get a running start.

I spit the toothpaste out. Maybe they wouldn't notice. Maybe, like my mom, they wouldn't care if I was Bailey. I filled up a small Dixie cup with water, and rinsed my mouth out. Then I drank a couple of glasses full of water. With one final look in the mirror, I worked up the courage to exit the bathroom.

The hallway was quiet, and I had no problem slipping into Kate's room. Kate stared intently at her computer monitor. Tiffany, on the other hand, showed her enthusiasm at me walking into the room. She waved me over to them, and patted an empty chair. I walked over and sat down quietly. My back faced the door.

Very few times had I seen Kate not personify femininity. This happened to be one of those times. Her nails were plain. She had no makeup on. Her attire was something my brother would wear to sleep in. It consisted of gray jersey shorts about knee length, and a plain white tank top. The scene honestly surprised me.

"I like this one," Kate said.

Tiffany scooted up to the edge of her chair. I looked at the monitor. The picture on the screen surprised me. It was me. I mean it was me as Bailey, in a white blouse with a Peter Pan collar, a light blue skirt, white tights and strappy white sandals. The makeup Kate had applied to my face, exploded in the picture. It created an image of a young teenage girl, with a sultry look.

"It's about the time Bailey here started to relax and be herself."

I couldn't argue. The next few pictures Kate flicked through, amplified her statement. She wasn't aiming to be cruel, but I literally became Bailey in those pictures. I not only looked like a girl, but my poses were extremely feminine. It worried me a bit. Either I embraced the character of Bailey for the moment, or…

"She really broke out in that last one," Tiffany said.

Kate clicked back one picture. I sat and stared at myself in the monitor. The stance wasn't inspired by anything. Kate hardly gave direction for the photos. I was just being silly that day. My left foot was planted firmly on the floor, barely angled inward at the toe. With my right leg I had turned the knee inward, and kicked my foot up and out sideways. The toe of my right foot dangled about an inch above the floor.

I continued to look at the picture. My left hand tugged down at the hem of the skirt, while my right hand had somehow twirled a lock of hair around two fingers. As I pulled down on the skirt and my hair, my face contorted into a very effeminate pout. What in the world was I thinking at that moment?

"Keep going," Tiffany said.

"They get really good when she starts changing outfits," Kate said.

The pictures got worse, at least for me. They might have seemed to get better if you were looking for keepers. However, from my point of view, they showed a story of a boy slowly turning into a girl. Through each wardrobe change, I became more and more comfortable as Bailey. By the time we reached the outside pictures, you would be hard pressed to find an objective audience to say it wasn't two girls being photographed. No wonder Tom flipped when he saw us running around. He saw me not only dressed as Bailey, but acting as Bailey.

"Wow!" I said quietly.

Kate and Tiffany both turned to look at me.

"What?" Kate asked.

"I'm such a girl…"

Tiffany started laughing.

"I'm serious!" I said, as I turned my head to face them. "I didn't realize how girly I was being that day."

"That's why I was confident you could pull tonight off," Tiffany said.

"Not to sound cruel," Kate said, "but you're really good at being Bailey,"

"I don't think I can do this anymore," I said.

"Why?" Tiffany asked.

"What if I got used to acting like that?"

"Again, not to sound cruel," Kate said, "but you have certain… quirks as Zach."

"Certain quirks?"

"I've been watching you for awhile," Kate said. "You're kind of…"

"Sissy?" I started to became a little belligerent.

"No!" Tiffany said.

"Not at all," Kate said. "There's just some feminine qualities to you."

"And so what if it is sissy," Tiffany said. "It's totally not a bad thing to be that way."

"Yeah," Kate said. "It's hardly a negative thing in my opinion. I mean I personally think it's great." She paused. "It's refreshing."

"Totally!" Tiffany said. "It's what I love about you."

I focused on Tiffany "Are you into girls?"

Kate chuckled, while Tiffany's face got bright red.

"It's okay if you are," I said. "You seem into this though."

"I guess you could say I'm curious," Tiffany said. Her voice got lower. "I've never… you know…" She looked down at the floor. "I thought if I could find some kind of middle ground…"

"Are you serious?" Kate asked, as her laughter slowly subsided.

Tiffany glanced at Kate, and then looked straight at me. "I'm sorry if you feel I dragged you into it."

My thoughts trailed off. I had no place to look. Between the two girls and the monitor, I felt ashamed to look at any of them. I had a girlfriend that loved me, but now I felt I had to be another part of me to be loved. Kate seemed like a counselor on the other side, knowing intimate details about our relationship, but not partaking in it. Then here I was as Bailey, not even able to stand up for myself as a man, or at least a boy. It all felt so humiliating.

"I am so sorry," Tiffany said, while placing her hand on my knee.

"I don't know what to say," I said.

"Well…" Kate spoke up. "We can start with this. Do you like Tiff?"

"Of course!" I took Tiffany's hand in mine. "I love her."

Tiffany smiled, though a tear streamed down her left cheek.

Kate looked at her sister. "Now how do you feel?"

"I…" Tiffany closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her pretty hazel eyes opened. "I think I'm in love with Bailey."

There it was again. That empty feeling filled my stomach. I felt sick, but couldn't act upon it physically. Tiffany held my hand tightly. I could feel the edges of her fingernails in my skin. Fingernails I had painted, and where they led eventually was to this moment right now.

No. I looked down at her feet. This moment started building from the first time I painted her toenails. I knew it for a fact now. Painting a girl's toenails is not something little boys do. It eventually led to them dressing up as little girls. That was the truth I made up in my own mind. I looked at the monitor. Something still had to be said.

"I can't be Bailey," I said, turning to face Tiffany. "Not all the time."

"I think we all know that," Tiffany said with a half smile.

"Well there is a way," Kate said.

"How?" I asked, stunned by her statement.

"What's your stepfather's email address?" She gave me a wicked grin.

"That's not even funny," I said.

"Sorry," Kate said. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

"Look… I don't know how long this all can last," I said. "Maybe there's little pieces of Bailey in me all the time, but I know I can't be her all the time."

"Then I'll take the little pieces," Tiffany said. "I'll take whatever you want to give me."

"I hope you're planning on waiting a long time for that," Kate said.

Tiffany turned to talk over her shoulder. "I wasn't talking about sex."

"Good!" She turned back to the computer. "The way you two were all over each other tonight, I'm surprised you haven't done it already."

"We're way too young," Tiffany said.

"Honestly," I spoke up, "I'm scared to death of sex."

"Really?" Tiffany asked.

"Yes!" I looked around, unable to focus on anything. "I'm not sure what to do. It scares me."

"You seemed pretty comfortable tonight in the shower," Kate said.

"How did you know about that?" Tiffany asked.

"Oh come on," Kate said, turning to face us. "Two girls disappearing for half an hour is nothing to most people." She turned back to the computer. "But I knew what was up, and I saw you coming out of the shower."

"Not like we went all the way," Tiffany said.

Kate spun around in her chair to face us. "So how far did you go?"

"Well I don't know," Tiffany said. "Quite a ways?"

"Don't look at me," I said. "I have no idea."

"Define quite a ways," Kate said.

Kate laughed at our confusion. Though the entire scene felt completely embarrassing, I felt more comfortable discussing it after. I started to wonder if this is how typical girl chat went. If so, it was a lot more interesting than the conversations I'd had with boys my age. The only problem was, I really had no basis to judge it all on. I was as new to discussing sex, as I was to having it.

"We just made out," I blurted out.

"Well that's not very special," Kate said. "That's something a guy would say."

"I don't know what else to say," I admitted.

"How did it feel?" Kate asked.

Tiffany looked at me. I suppose she expected me to get a crash course in this type of conversation. Maybe she was embarrassed. Then I started to think maybe she didn't know how to engage in this conversation either. I'd thought earlier she maybe had a mature educated view on all of this, but now I wasn't so sure. I decided to take a stab at it.

"It was warm," I said, "and wet." I spoke to Kate, but focused on Tiffany. "The water from the shower made everything so smooth." I tried to recapture the moment in my mind. "Every second of it was exciting. Slow kisses with water cascading down our faces." I closed my eyes. "Everything seemed slow and methodic. Like the shower controlled it all." I opened my eyes again to look at Tiffany. "Gentle, calm… moving together."

"I just got a chill," Tiffany said, letting go of my hand.

"That was really good," Kate said. "A lot better than what you said before."

"Ladies," their mother's voice came from behind me. "I think you all should be getting to bed."

"A few more minutes?" Tiffany pleaded.

"Okay," their mother said, "but only a few."

"I'll get them to sleep," Kate said. "Goodnight mom."

"Goodnight," Tiffany said.

"Goodnight Misses Stewart," I said over my shoulder.

"Goodnight Bailey," she paused. "Girls, I mean it. Not too late."

Kate waited until their mother left, then she tapped my knee. "Tiffany told me about your little dilemma," she said. I watched her get up and go to her dresser. "We have a bit of a dilemma too." She pulled a bundle of material, with a mess of straps hanging from it, out of her middle drawer.

"Dad goes in to work at about nine," Tiffany said. "Mom leaves around ten."

"I have to be at work at three," Kate said. "Which means I need to leave here before two-thirty to drop you off across town."

"So we'll have plenty of time to get you tanned," Tiffany said.

"Right," Kate said. "I think we can get a modest amount of privacy in our backyard."

"So what's the problem?" I asked.

"I desperately want you to tan in a two-piece," Tiffany said.

"What?!" I straightened up. "Why?"

"I think it would look so cute, with the tan lines and all."

Kate held a strappy two-piece swimsuit up.

"See!" Tiffany said. "The thin little straps would look adorable."

"But it would completely defeat the purpose of hiding the fact I tanned in a bikini."

"She's kidding," Kate said, unable to hold back her laughter. "She wanted to see what you'd say."

"I'd say no!"

"This is mine," Kate said. "We'll be tanning with you."

"This one is yours," Tiffany said.

She took another swimsuit bottom from her sister and handed it to me. No surprise, but it happened to be bright neon pink. I unfolded the small bundle of material. They were tiny, and not from lack of material. Though they had very little material to speak of, they looked to be two to three sizes too small. When I pulled on them, however, they had a lot of stretch in them.

"Trust me. They'll fit," Kate said, as if reading my mind. "They're going to be snug, but they're perfect for your situation."

"And just incase someone does happen to stop by," Tiffany said. "Here's the top."

She handed me the other piece. It was bright neon pink as well, but looked like one continuous loop of material. Kate called it a tube top, but I honestly wasn't up to speed on the lingo of female attire at the time. I put the two pieces together, and draped them over my lap. Tiffany got up, took the swimsuit from me, and walked to the door.

"Kate wanted to discuss something with you," Tiffany said. "So I'm going to go finish getting ready for bed, and I'll see you when you're done."

"Okay," I said, with a fair amount of reserve in my voice.

"It won't take long," Kate said to Tiffany.

She closed the door behind her sister. I watched her wander around the room collecting things. My mind tried to find some kind of earthly answer why the door would need to be closed for just talking. Kate didn't seem to be doing anything out of the ordinary either. She finally came over, adjusted her chair, and sat down facing me. When she pulled herself closer to me, I shifted uncomfortably. She placed her hands firmly on my knees. Then she gave me a pleasant smile. I relaxed a little bit.

"Tiff and I had a little wager."

"Oh?"

"I bet her if I dressed like this, you would pay more attention to her."

"I take it you won?" I asked.

"You're a smart little girl," Kate said.

I ignored being called a girl. "What did you win?"

"Well, let's just say you got your little fantasy," Kate said. "I kind of promised the other day, but then your stepfather came and all that."

Kate leaned back and put her left foot up. She squeezed it into the space between my thighs. It finally rested firmly against my trapped penis. Her toes wiggled back and forth. I could hardly sustain my composure. Kate seemed laid-back about the scene. She shook a bottle of clear basecoat, and eventually handed it to me.

"You totally have a foot fetish," Kate said. She was smiling. "It's really not all that uncommon." She put a box full of various shades of polish in Tiffany's vacant chair. "So take your time, and enjoy." Kate leaned back in her chair to relax. "Choose whatever color you want." She leaned forward again. "I expect a kiss on each foot when you're done." She smiled, and then leaned back again.

I busied myself with applying the basecoat. Kate busied herself with relaxing and being pampered. Truth be told, I really enjoyed doing it for her. It was sort of a reward for both of us, from a bet between her and Tiffany. I started to wonder what Tiffany would've wanted for winning. Then I decided to not think about it, and enjoy what I had. I was so busy with what I was doing, that I didn't notice Kate had leaned back up to watch.

"Would you let me style your hair tomorrow?" she asked.

"As long as you don't cut it," I said.

"No, nothing like that," Kate said. "I was thinking maybe curl it after you tan."

"Sure," I said. "Sounds like fun."

"Cool," she said. "You know… you're really a lot of fun Bailey."

"Thanks," I said. "Wish I could trade you for Justin."

"He's not so bad," Kate said. "Just needs to get off his jock ego trip."

"Yeah… football really changed him." I started to rummage through the colors of nail polish. "I think maybe he feels pressured by Tom to do it."

"Maybe he needs to take a break from hanging around Tom all the time?"

"I don't know," I said. "I wish Tom would take a break from life."

Kate and I talked almost the entire time I painted her toenails. We really got to know each other. She even dragged it out longer and let me do her fingernails. By the time we finished, my hair had dried completely. I knew Tiffany was missing me, so I rushed to put everything away for Kate. She knew I wanted to get out of the room, but she wouldn't let me until I got down on my knees and kissed her feet. Then she thanked me, and ushered me from her room.

Soon after I left Kate's room, I found myself in Tiffany's bed. All things considered, it wasn't that horrible being Bailey. Only Tom really put a damper on it all. Since Justin hardly talked to me, I really had very little resistance. My mom seemed far from against it, even encouraging it to some level. Kate treated me like a sister. Tiffany loved Bailey. As I drifted to sleep in her arms, I started to wonder if I could stay Bailey.

I awoke, somewhat late in the morning, to Tiffany's soft lips leaving playful kisses on my face. As I came more aware of my surroundings, I started to kiss back. She scooted toward me, and I moved closer to her. Before long we were rubbing our hands on each other, over the satin material of our clothes. Our bare legs rubbed together.

When I started to kiss down her neck, she pushed me away. I watched her slip out of bed. She pulled the sheets off of me, and then retrieved something from her dresser. A sly and mischievous smile spread across her face as she crawled back onto the bed. In her right hand she held what I made out to be the neon pink bikini bottoms.

"Since you helped me dress last night," Tiffany said, "I thought maybe I'd help you."

I started to scoot away from her. "I'm not so sure."

"Please?" She tugged at my borrowed shorts.

"Do you really think we should?"

"Are you nervous?"

"A little," I said.

Tiffany straddled my lower legs. She tugged back and forth on the sides of the satin shorts until they were down to my knees. I put my hands on her thighs, in an attempt to get away from her. As I squirmed beneath her, she pulled the top up and over my head. She slipped it down my arms, and managed to pull it off when I lifted my hands away from her.

By this time it had become more of a playful attempt to get away from Tiffany. While I felt uncomfortable about the whole ordeal, I honestly didn't put up much of a fight. Tiffany pushed me back down onto the pillows. She started planting gentle kisses on my shoulders and neck. As she continued to kiss down my chest, she wiggled out of her own top.

I wiggled as well, still pretending I wanted to get away. Yet as she continued to kiss me, I lost the will to fight after awhile. I moved my hands up to her waist. My fingers hooked in behind the elastic band of her shorts. In a matter of seconds I had pulled them down her tan thighs. She rose up on her knees to let the shorts go down further. After a lot of squirming and worming around, our shorts finally slipped from our feet.

Tiffany moved up to lay on top of me. She pushed her body into mine. I started kissing her neck on the left side, and she returned the affection on my own neck. Her hands slid into my hair, and pulled at it gently. Then she started rubbing her pelvis into mine. She shifted to where our left thighs ended up rubbing between each others' thighs.

She continued to slide up and down my body. I moved my hands up and down her bare back. Eventually I pushed them under her panties. Tiffany moaned as I squeezed her bottom. It felt so smooth and firm. She kept rubbing against me until her panties had shifted down to her thighs. Then she pushed into me, continuing to rub against me harder.

Her breathing became ragged. She pulled at my hair a little harder. Soon she had stopped kissing me, and just continued to slide up and down my body. I couldn't resist kissing her neck. Her skin had the faint smell of pear and raspberry. I figured it was one of the body washes they had in their shower. She moaned, and I kissed her more.

After a few more minutes, Tiffany began to tremble. She pulled her upper body away from me, and held my head down with her grip on my hair. Her hips grinded into mine a few more times, and then she stopped completely. I watched her for a few minutes hold her position. Then she gently collapsed on top of me. Her grip loosened from around my hair, and she lowered her hands to run them up and down my upper arms.

I ran my fingers up her back. Several minutes passed in silence. Then I felt Tiffany's thigh start to rock forward between my legs. Her head tilted back. She pushed her lips up against the bottom of my chin. As she continued to rock her leg against my groin, she kissed down my neck.

Before long, Tiffany had me softly moaning. She kept rocking her thigh against me. At one point she grabbed onto my shoulders for leverage. Her kissing became as relentless as her rubbing against my entrapped penis. I felt it twitch inside my borrowed panties. She kept going.

The whole time Tiffany rocked against me, I could feel her body sliding against mine. Her whole body was warm, but her pelvic area felt warmer and wet. It started to glide in the area above the top of my panties. Tiffany pushed up, bracing herself with her forearms. She looked into my eyes and grinded her thigh into me a little harder.

After several more thrusts, I started to breathe harder. My penis twitched several times, and then started to convulse. Soon it was convulsing with each thrust of her thigh. I moaned loudly, causing her to push her lips into mine. She kissed me hard. When I'd calmed down a bit, she pulled away from the kiss. Then, after a few more kisses on my lips and cheeks, Tiffany slid down my body.

She took my panties off as she went, pulling them slowly down my legs. When she had pulled them completely off, she knelt next to me on the bed with them in her hands. Slowly and methodically she wiped my penis off. Apparently it amused her to see an actual penis for the first time. She took great care in cleaning it off, and studied it carefully. Eventually she finished, and dropped the panties next to her bed with the rest of my clothes.

"Did we just have sex?" I asked, nervous about even talking to her.

"I'm not sure," Tiffany said, "but I think we just had lesbian sex."

I stared at the pleased expression and smile she had on her face. Then I smiled too. She was so cute, and neither one of us really knew what happened. I even felt like Bailey at the moment, and that seemed fine with me. It obviously felt fine with Tiffany. She had moved down to my feet and started to pull on my swimsuit bottoms.

Kate had said they'd be snug, but that seemed to be an understatement. When they had reached my thighs, Tiffany had to pull hard on both sides to keep them going up. She nudged me to raise my bottom in the air. Then she pulled them up almost all the way. I helped her by adjusting my genitals, and then she finished pulling them on.

They were tight. In fact, they were almost too tight. As I lowered my bottom back down on the bed, the bikini bottoms pulled in every direction. My groin felt extremely constricted. I shifted around, and I could feel them pull up on the bottoms of my cheeks. Tiffany ran her hand over the front of them.

"I can't even tell you're a boy," she said.

"That is the idea."

"The pink looks so good with your tan legs. I can't wait to see the rest of you tanned."

Tiffany leapt from the bed. She dropped her panties to the floor. I rolled over to sit on the edge of her bed. The clock read twelve o'clock. Their parents had to be long gone. I watched Tiffany slide into a pair of dark blue bottoms. She smiled at me, apparently not caring that I watched her. After putting on the matching top, she opened her door, checked to see if the coast was clear, and then we set out to go tan in her backyard.

Tanning wasn't as exciting as it had been the day before. At the party I had been secretly hiding my identity. Now it just felt like tanning. Even though I sat between Tiffany and Kate, it came nothing close to last night. It even felt like I was Zachary again, wearing only bikini bottoms. I enjoyed being Bailey at the party and even afterwards. I think I even would have enjoyed being Bailey now.

After tanning, and taking a quick shower, Tiffany led me into her room. Like Tiffany had done the night before, I now only wore a towel. As Kate setup what she needed to style my hair, Tiffany had me get dressed. To my surprise she had picked out a pair of hot pink panties in a bikini style. I watched her walk them over to me. She pulled the towel from around my waist.

"I picked these especially for you," Tiffany said.

"I was hoping you'd have my own underwear," I said.

"These are," she said. "I mean, I'm giving them to you. I want you to have them."

"You want me to wear panties too?"

"Well, I thought since you have to and all…"

"I could've left my male underwear here to change into," I said.

She shook her head. "If my parents found them, they'd ask way too many questions. Besides, it'll keep you out of trouble with your step dad."

"I guess you're right."

"I know I'm right," she said, handing me the panties. "Now put them on." She turned back to her closet. "I have the rest of your stuff here. Unless you want to go home as Bailey?"

"I better not," I said.

I pulled on the pair of hot pink panties. Tiffany met me just as I settled into them. She handed me my jean shorts from the other day. After slipping them on and fastening them, Tiffany helped me put on my t-shirt. Then I sat on her bed and slipped my shoes and socks on. I stood, and Tiffany gave me a quick kiss.

"I'm glad to see you again," she said.

"But wish Bailey could stay?"

"Yes, and no," Tiffany said. "I love your girly side, but I think having it be a secret is more exciting."

"It's not much of a secret," I said. "If Tom had his way, I would probably be Bailey all the time."

"Have you ever thought of letting him catch you?" Tiffany asked as she opened her door.

I stepped out into the hallway. "I never wanted him to catch me in the first place."

"Well he said if you did it again, he'd make you wear more," Tiffany said. "I was just wondering if he got you to wear enough, you could just be Bailey all the time."

"I think there's a lot more to it than clothes," Kate said. She stood at her door. "Now come in here and let me do your hair."

"This will go away with a shower right?"

"Right," Kate said. "I'm just going to curl it."

She brought me into her room. I sat in the chair at her computer desk. Tiffany walked over and sat on her sister's bed. Kate had put out an assortment of things on her desk. There were a couple of brushes, a long comb, a box of hairpins, and a round contraption with steam coming out of it. She walked over and picked up the hairdryer and turned it on.

As Kate dried my hair, she brushed it out. She kept going until my hair was nearly dry. While she did this, she explained she wanted to use hot rollers, and wet hair could make them possibly burn me. In the small mirror I could see Tiffany smiling behind me. She seemed excited to see the outcome.

Kate put the hairdryer down and brought the comb up to my hair. She started by parting my hair into three sections. First she gathered the entire top of my hair and clipped it together for one section. Next she took the sides together and clipped them together. The last section, the back of my hair, she started dividing into several smaller sections.

She would comb one of these smaller sections out, and then roll it up with a small roller from the steaming contraption I'd seen earlier. When she got it all rolled, she'd put a clip in it to hold, and then move to the next smaller section. Kate put about six rollers in the back section, and then moved on to the next section; my sides.

Again she divided this larger section into smaller sections. Going the opposite way as the last section, she put several more rollers in. One by one, the small rollers left the steaming round contraption. The girls made comments back and forth to each other about how cute I'd look after. Tiffany claimed I looked cute before they started. Kate mentioned I looked cute the other day. A huge part of me wished I was dressed as Bailey at the moment, but even the lack of clothing didn't stop me from feeling like Bailey inside.

When Kate had finished putting rollers in my hair, she began checking it all, fidgeting here and there. I think I ended up with a total of sixteen small rollers in my hair. Kate continued to fuss over it a little more, and then told me she had to get a shower for work. She told Tiffany to take me into the other room. Then she mentioned she'd take the rollers out and finish up before she took me home.

While Tiffany and I waited on Kate, we had some watermelon in the kitchen. I still swear to this day that Tiffany lived on the stuff. She ate a ton of it. We made small chat, the whole time listening for Kate to call us back in. Time seemed to tick away slower than molasses, but eventually we heard Kate call from the other room.

We stepped into Kate's room as she was finishing up putting her uniform on for work. She pointed to the chair for me to sit down. I quietly sat and watched her put her makeup on. She fixed her own hair into a quick ponytail, and I felt a bit ashamed she had spent all the time on my hair and not her own. After stepping into her shoes, she came back over to me.

She quickly started taking pins and rollers out of my hair. With each one removed, she would comb out my hair with her fingers. After taking out the entire back section, she combed it all together with her fingers, making it blend a bit. Then she repeated the process with the next section. Once she got done with the top section, I had a ton of small bouncy curls.

"She looks adorable," Tiffany said.

"Yeah," Kate said. "It turned out better than I thought it would." She leaned over me. "If you wanted it to stay longer, I would've put hairspray in it to hold." I felt her hands on my shoulders. "You might get in trouble though if you can't make it go away quickly."

"It's a shame it has to go away at all," I said. "I really like it."

"I love it," Tiffany said, walking up to kiss me on the cheek. "It's so Bailey."

"Well…" Kate looked at her watch. "Bailey has to go be Zach now." She turned to her sister. "So say your goodbyes quickly." She removed her hands from my shoulder and started wandering around getting her keys and stuff.

Tiffany pulled me to stand up. "You look amazing," she said, running her hand on my cheek. "I wish you could stay longer, maybe do something with me."

"I wish I could too," I said. "Mom wanted me home at a reasonable time though."

"I understand." She leaned in and gave me a tender kiss on the lips. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too."

"Let me know if you wanna do that party," Tiffany said. "We can plan ahead and set it all up for you to go as Bailey."

"I'll think about it," I said. "I'm not so sure how much longer this Bailey thing will go."

"I hope it can continue for awhile," Kate said. "I'm having fun practicing looks on you."

"Bye Zach," Tiffany said, giving me another kiss. "And Bailey." She gave me a hug.

"Bye Tiffany," I said as we broke the embrace. "I'll call you later."

"Let's go girly boy," Kate said with a wink. She ushered me out of her room, and eventually out of their house.

About fifteen minutes later, Kate dropped me off at my house. The entire ride from her place to mine, she had glanced at my hair countless times. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was extremely proud of her work. I had to be honest. She did a good job. I loved how my hair looked, but I wished I could wear it like it was permanently. We also had an interesting conversation about me taking the berating comments from Tom as compliments. Kate even revealed to me that she thought the term sissy was cute.

I thanked Kate for the ride. Then I thanked her for my hairstyle. She mentioned she would do it again anytime I'd let her. I kept this offer in the back of my mind. I'm sure I would take her up on it. I pushed open the car door, and hopped out. After closing her door, and giving her a quick wave goodbye, I climbed the stairs to my front door and let myself inside. My mother's voice carried down the stairs as soon as I closed the door.

"Zach is that you?"

"Yes," I shouted back.

"I didn't expect you so soon."

"Where are you?" I started to carry myself up the stairs.

"I'm in your room," my mother said. "I have something to show you."

"What?"

"Just come here."

I shuffled up the rest of the stairs. She probably had more nail polish to give me or something of the sort. My mother always read into stuff way too much. In fact, she seemed to be more interested in Bailey than Tiffany or I combined. Maybe it stemmed from her not having a daughter. It was hard to tell what she even thought of the entire situation. I stepped into my room and was greeted by a large pile of clothing on my bed.

"Oh my!" my mother said. "Somebody got some sun." She walked over to check me out, reaching for my hair. "And a new hairstyle I see."

"Kate did it," I said. "Do you like it?"

"I love it," my mother said. "It looks darling." She continued to play with the small curls. "It's a shame you can't keep it like this. I think she did an excellent job."

I looked to my bed. "What's all this?"

She turned to the bed. "After our little conversation the other night, I took the liberty to get you a few things."

"Clothes?"

"Now before you get excited, some of it is fairly old," she said. "I tried to get some stylish things, but there isn't much selection at a consignment shop."

"A what?" I asked.

"A consignment shop honey," she said. "It's a place where you can buy second hand stuff."

"Like Goodwill?"

"Not exactly the same, but close." She stepped over to the pile of clothing. "The clothes at consignment shops usually aren't worn out as much as a thrift store."

"Why?"

"Because they're usually clothes that were outgrown quickly, or worn for one season, and only accepted in good condition."

"No… I mean why did you buy all of this?"

"Oh!" She chuckled a bit. "Well I thought you…" She gave me a solemn look. "I thought if you wanted to explore Bailey a bit more, this would be the cheaper option without being the cheapest."

"I can't be Bailey."

"Can't be, or don't want to be?"

"I don't even know if I want to be," I said. "It was fun this past week, but I can't do it all the time."

"Well, unlike Tom, I'm not forcing you," she said. "But right now you have a window of opportunity to explore your options. At least until you outgrow it."

"With Tom around?"

"Tom's not always around. He's even thinking about getting a night job," she said. "If you want to be Bailey around me I won't say a word."

"What about Justin? He'll tell on me any chance he gets."

"I'll be having a long talk with him if you choose to continue with this," she said. "But he has two-a-day practices soon, and then he'll be staying after school until football is over."

"That's true…"

"Look, it's up to you kiddo. Whatever you want to do." She put her fists on her hips. "You got the hair right now to play around with. Besides… wouldn't you like to wear your own clothes to that birthday party?"

"I don't know if I'm going to that," I said. "Tiffany only mentioned it."

"Well you sounded excited about it on the phone last night."

"I think it was just because she was excited about it."

"Were you officially invited?"

"Bailey was, but I think they'd all flip if they found out the truth."

"Look," my mother said. "You've been out in public twice as Bailey. Once under the extreme scrutiny of other girls, and they couldn't tell the difference."

"That's true…"

"I'd say after what you did last night, and if your hair is any indication…" She folded her arms across her chest. "Actually by the hair alone, I think you would like to explore this further."

"I do," I said, glancing at the floor. "But Tom…"

"Screw Tom," she said. "This is about you. I'm not going to force you into these clothes, and I'm not going to berate you for wearing them. You have to decide if you want to be Bailey, Zachary, or even both."

"I suppose I could at least think about it," I said, looking up at her. "You did go to the trouble after all."

"It wasn't much trouble." She gestured with her hands. "It can always go back, or I can donate it elsewhere if you don't want to do this."

My voice trembled. "Can I try it on?"

"Of course," she said. "I'd like you to try it all on, but even just trying on what you like suits me." She sorted the top of the pile into shirts and bottoms. "At any rate, could you at least go through these and see if you like any of it?"

"I'll try them on."

"It's settled then." She pointed at the floor in front of my closet. "Shoes too. I got a few pairs, but we can get you some different ones if you want. If you'd feel comfortable going as Bailey to try things on, we can do that too. There are a few bras in here." She picked up a small bra from the bed, and dropped it again like she was scared to hold it. "If you decide to continue this, I would prefer we buy your undergarments new. Panties, bras, even tights and pantyhose later. We can get all of that." From the corner of my eye I could see her mulling over the clothes. "If you need my help for something, don't be embarrassed to ask."

She had lost me at the word shoes, and she didn't even know it. "Thanks mom," I said, as I stared at the shoes. They captivated me.

"I'll leave you to it then," she said, as she brushed past me into the hallway.

My door was shut in about ten seconds. What was it about shoes that interested me? Kate had to be right. I definitely had a fetish, as she called it, for feet. Maybe I had a fetish for shoes as well? I kicked off my sneakers, and nearly ran over to the shoes. Everything on the bed seemed like second favorite to me at the moment. It could've all been on fire screaming for me to save it, and I still would've run over to the shoes to rescue them.

The selection confused me at first. I didn't know what my mother was thinking when she picked out the shoes. Then I realized she had quickly covered several occasions with her choices. A cute pair of white mule sneakers covered anything casual. I could even wear them to Tracy's party. Wait! Did I really want to go to her party?

I picked up a pair of black ballet flats. They looked almost exactly like Tiffany's pair of flats, only they had a decorative flower cutout on the toes. I figured I could wear them casually, if I didn't want sneakers, or for slightly more dressy occasions. The next pair I picked up were a pewter color. They were a dress sandal, with thin straps running everywhere, and a chunky two inch heel.

When I picked up the fourth pair, I started to think of all the situations where I would be wearing these shoes. Then I started to wonder why I was thinking about dressing as Bailey for those situations. The shoes were cute, and a big pull for me dressing. This pair in particular happened to be black Oxfords, with two and a half inch tapered heels. They were probably the cutest ones in the bunch.

The last two pairs of shoes interested me the most. While the other four pairs were a size four and a half, Tiffany's size, these two pairs weren't. My mother had bought me a pair of really dark gray leather boots in a size five. They were almost black, but looked sort of faded. The block heel on them was a modest inch, maybe slightly over, and they looked like they would come to mid-calf on me. I think they were my favorite pair, perhaps because they looked comfortable.

Looking at the last pair, I noticed they were a size five and a half. The size didn't intrigue me as much as the style of the shoe. Even Tiffany didn't have anything like them, but I knew for a fact my mother did. She wore them to work all the time, and called them pumps. I'm not sure why they were called this, but it didn't seem to bother me much. I studied the four inch heel. It tapered down into a half circle about three quarters of an inch wide at the bottom.

I wondered why my mother decided I needed this pair. Perhaps she thought I might want to dress up like she does for work. They were a nice pair of shoes. The sole and heel were a light tan color, while the rest were a dark navy blue. I'm sure I could find something to wear with them in the pile my mother bought. However, I wasn't so sure I could walk in them.

All of the ideas about outfits, and thinking about what to wear each pair with, got me excited enough to check out the clothes. It couldn't be put it off any longer. I had to see what my mother got me. Tossing the pump down into the pile of shoes, I pulled myself away from them. In a matter of seconds I had pushed myself from the floor to stand. I turned toward my bed.

The clothes confused the hell out of me. When I arrived at my bed, and started to dig through the pile of clothing, I was shocked at the sizes. They didn't make any sense to me at all. Some of them had size twelve, while others had size seven to eight. I still couldn't figure out how the large could be the same size as the small. There were even a pair of extra small jeans with a glittery design on the right leg. I decided to try them on first.

Though I had only dressed as Bailey a few times, it seemed to bother me less each time. In fact, I could probably handle going back and forth to her at will. I could be like a cross-dressing superhero, or heroine. It wasn't exactly clear in my mind which one of those it would be. Perhaps I'd let my admirers choose my true identity. Maybe the confusion could be one of my special powers?

I shook my head. With a slightly amused smile on my face, I pushed off my shorts. Tiffany's hot pink panties greeted me. Actually they were mine now. She had given them to me. The unusual circumstances to which they were obtained still disturbed me. In some weird way I felt like she was going along with my stepfather's punishment.

She could have at least kept one pair of my male underwear over there. I could've worn them as a backup, and even taken my nail polish off at her place. Instead she threw them away, claiming it would keep me out of trouble with Tom, and keep her from being questioned by her parents. However, it still seemed like she wanted to go along with Tom's idea. She didn't show any signs of pity or remorse for putting me back into panties.

I kicked my shorts off to the side. After stooping to lower the jeans to the floor, I put my right foot in one leg. Then I put my left foot in the other leg. The jeans slid up my calves and past my knees. When I got to my hips they seemed a bit snug. I kept going, pulling at the waistband. Finally they slipped over my hips and fell into place at the waist.

The first thing I noticed after I fastened them, was the fit. They weren't tight, but they were snug. In fact they hugged my bottom, and continued to be snug down to the top of my knees. This is where they started flaring out toward the bottom. Examining the bottom of the right leg led me to the second thing I noticed. The glittery design was a pinkish trail of soft loops, which led ultimately to a butterfly in full flight on the thigh.

"How cute," I said to myself.

My shirt flew from my body. I dug my hands into the pile of clothes. After about a minute of randomly tossing articles of clothing aside, I realized I only had three choices in bras. There was a light gray sports bra, a white training bra like Tiffany's, and then a beige bra with some sort of padding in it. For some reason I had to experience this one.

On the tag another size confused me. It read thirty-two A. I needed to ask my mother or Tiffany what all of these sizes meant. However, it could wait. I slipped the bra over my arms. With a little effort I managed to get it hooked closed in the back. After a few moments of adjustments, I had the bra fitting me snugly. Now I just had to decide on a top. There was a light knock at my door.

"Come in," I said, still digging through the pile of clothing.

My door slid open. "How's it coming?"

I turned to face my mother. "Okay I guess."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I said. "I just…" I looked at the clothes. "I'm a little confused by sizes is all."

"Oh." My mother chuckled. "Don't worry about that. I'm forty-two, and I still don't get it sometimes." She walked over closer to me. "Some of them are girls sizes, and some are juniors." She started to rummage through the clothes. "I took the sizes from Tiffany's clothes the other day, but a lot of it has been guess work."

"So they go to a certain size and start over?"

"Sort of," she said. "I'm not going to bore you with the details." She pulled a shirt from the pile. "Try this one."

I took the shirt from her. The shirt was simple, with no design, but had a nice tan color. It also had what I later learned were cap sleeves. As I slipped it on, my mother went to open my curtains. Light poured into the room. I tugged at the shirt, but couldn't manage to pull it down past my belly button. My mother smiled as she walked over to me. I, however, continued to tug on the shirt.

"It's a crop top," she said, as she pulled my hands away from the hem of the shirt. "They're supposed to be like that."

"I just thought it was too short."

My mother chuckled. "You got a nice tan," she said, running her hand lightly across my navel. "The color of the shirt really brings it out, and this style shows it off."

"The jeans might be a bit too small," I said.

She put a couple of fingers behind the waistband and gave it a few tugs. "Turn around."

I did as she requested. My mother tugged at the waistband in the back. She checked how much the pockets gave in the back. Then I felt her hand gently slide over my bottom. When she nudged me to turn back around, she brushed her hands down the thighs like she was smoothing the jeans out. I watched her evaluate the front for a moment.

"They look perfect to me," she said.

"They're a little tight."

"Well they're not the baggy old jeans you're used to wearing," she said. "You'll get adjusted to them."

"What if I don't?"

"Then you can just wear them until you do," she said with a wink. "It'll be nice, for a change, to see you in something besides baggy seconds from your brother." She walked over to my dresser. "I hope you don't mind, but I replaced your socks. White for now, but we can add other colors if you want." She pulled a pair from the top drawer. "They're also lighter material, and they'll barely cover your heel, but I think they'll be easier to go back and forth in."

I took the small pair of socks from her. "Always thinking ahead."

"Speaking of thinking ahead," she said. "Is there a particular reason you chose the push-up bra?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "I thought it would look better if I had… you know…"

"I thought so," she said, with a wink. "In that case would you like me to get you a few more like that?"

I sat down on my bed. "Don't you think you've gotten me enough?" I asked, gesturing at the clothes.

"Well we can wait on it." She waited for me to take my old socks off, and then she took them from me and tossed them in the trash can. "I thought maybe you'd like to get some of it out of the way before school starts."

"I'm not going to school as Bailey," I said.

"Oh heavens no!" my mother said. "I just meant you'd probably be busier then." She walked over and sat on my bed. "Junior high is hard enough to adjust to as it is."

I sat down on my bed next to my mother. She busied herself with continuing to sort my "new" clothes. I brought my right foot up to me, and slipped one of the socks on over it. At first I thought they were too small, but realized they were supposed to fit like they did. While my regular old ones came up and covered my ankle, these didn't even reach my ankle. They came about halfway up my heel as well.

"Those go great with the mule sneakers I got you," my mother said. "If you want to wear socks with them, the socks won't show as much." She continued to mess with the pile of clothes. "They also have ones that show less than that."

"Think it'll take a while to get used to them," I said, as I slipped the other one on my left foot. "But I like them." I stood up, ready to go put on my shoes.

"You have a lot of things to get used to," she said, holding up another pair of pants. "Try these." She sat for a moment staring at me. "Would you like me to leave the room?"

I recalled Tiffany's mention of women helping other women dress. "You're fine," I said.

I reached for the button on my jeans and unfastened them. As I wiggled them down over my hips, my mother smiled at me. They slid down my legs, and I stooped over to pull them off of my feet. Then I folded them neatly and walked over to the bed. My mother continued to give me a pleasant smile as I exchanged the pants.

"Cute panties," she said.

"Tiffany gave them to me," I said. "To keep."

"Oh?" My mother raised her eyebrows. "Does she like it when you're Bailey?"

"More than when I'm Zach, I'm afraid."

"Do you like being Bailey when you're with her?"

"She makes it more fun I think," I said. "But I'm starting to just like being Bailey."

"Are you saying you want to be her more?"

"I think I am…"

I held the pants down low enough to step into. My right foot slipped into one leg hole, quickly followed by my left foot in the other. As I pulled the pants up my leg, I realized they were tighter than the jeans. However, the black material they were made of stretched quite a bit. They slipped up over my hips and settled at my waist.

These pants were definitely different than the jeans. First, they were snug, all the way to my knees. For some reason they ended two inches after that. Second, there were no zippers or buttons on the front, but instead there was one zipper on the right side. I pulled the zipper up, making them sink in at the waist.

"Those are called Capri pants," my mother said. "Sort of an in between of jeans and shorts."

"I like them," I said.

"Put on the Oxfords with them," my mother said. "They should look good with them."

I did as she asked, and stepped over to get the pair of Oxfords. As I walked back over to the bed, it appeared my mother seemed to be enjoying having a daughter for the moment. She watched me slip on the shoes, which fit perfectly. Then she smiled as I tied them and took a few paces around the room. I stopped to look at her.

"What's next?" I asked.

She handed me a tube of lipstick. Nothing in my mind even gave me pause to question it. I took the tube, and headed to the mirror. The tube said Toast of New York on it. Apparently my mother was up to speed on the fashions for younger girls. I quickly applied the lipstick, blotted it, and then applied a second coat. Lipstick application seemed like the easiest thing to master.

"Well…" I spun around to face my mother. "What do you think?"

"I think I was right all along."

My mother and I both jumped, and turned to see Tom standing outside of my door. He had this sort of pissed off, but victorious look on his face. I stood frozen, unable to throw any excuse out there to justify my situation. My mother sat on my bed in silence. The pleasant smile had been wiped from her face.

"I've been saying it for years," Tom said. "You're nothing more than a little sissy faggot."

"I…" Tears formed in my eyes.

"You have proven it time and time again." Tom put his hand on my doorframe. "You know it's funny… I called the Stewarts' asking for Zachary the other night. Apparently he never showed up." He glared at me. "Then I called back a bit later and asked if Bailey made it there okay." He slammed his fist against my doorframe. "Wouldn't you know it? Bailey was out at a damn all girl pool party!"

"Tom," my mother said.

"Shut up," Tom said to my mother. He turned to face me. "From now on, forget the rules. Do whatever the hell you want to do, since you do it anyway. Hell… you can do it as Bailey for all I care. In fact… you can just stay Bailey the rest of the summer." He glanced at my mother and then focused on me again. "But I'm taking you to see someone about it."

"See someone?" I asked.

"Yeah," Tom said. "A specialist who deals with little sissies like you." He looked at my mother, who seemed like she was about to argue. "End of discussion!" Tom nearly yelled.

He turned and walked down the hallway. Before long he was yelling at Justin to bring in the rest of the gear from their fishing trip. I walked over and sat on my bed. Tears started to stream down my face. My mother sat next to me in silence. She put her arm around my shoulder and held me close. For the next several minutes I sat there, unwilling to speak, thinking of what could be and what would be. I could be Bailey, but would it ruin me?

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To Be Continued...
 

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Part 5

I could just stay Bailey the rest of the summer. My stepfather's words echoed countless times in my mind. It had been about three days since he came home early and caught me dressed fully as Bailey. Initially it had been my mother's idea, but the timing was far from satisfactory. I couldn't blame her. How could she know that bastard would cut his trip short to come catch me in the act?

My mother had bought a ton of clothes for me to be Bailey. All I could think to do that Saturday afternoon, was to keep trying them on. I kept the ones I liked, and made room for them. They soon filled my closet and dresser. Even some I had discarded, my mom salvaged, thinking I'd reconsider.

I hit a happy medium with the shoes as well. All of them fit rather well except for the size five and a half pumps. My mother claimed I'd be able to fit into them eventually. So we kept them as well. She told me I'd be looking at adult sizes soon, and the choice in styles would open up. This little bit of information lightened my mood that Saturday.

Tom was true to his word. He kept his mouth shut, and acted like he didn't give a damn. I spent the rest of Saturday dressed as Bailey, going back to the tan cap-sleeve shirt my mother had chosen, and a pair of short dark jean shorts. Justin said all of a paragraph to me the whole weekend. Their silence actually became a good thing, as I didn't feel the negativity of being Bailey anymore.

By Monday things had settled down slightly. Tom had left for work early in the morning, and my mother didn't work again until Tuesday. Justin had gone somewhere with a friend, leaving me alone with mom. After a somewhat long talk with mom, and much pleading, I convinced her to take me shopping for more clothes.

We discussed what I would need. Since I had made a personal decision to be Bailey more, we had quite a few things to buy. I agreed to stick with the consignment shops for most of my clothes. My mother suggested getting some intimates and things to sleep in at a local store called Laura's. She insisted nobody would know me there.

My mother also insisted I go as Bailey before she agreed to spend more money. She stated it would show my sincerity about wanting to go through with it. I didn't hesitate at all to agreeing with her. When Monday rolled around, my mother picked out a floral summer dress for me to wear. It had a square neckline, and the hem danced atop my knees. I wore the beige padded bra and white panties with flowers on them beneath the dress.

Mother fixed my hair up into a wavy layered look. I borrowed a light pink lipstick from her. She smiled as she watched me apply it by myself. Afterwards I headed to my room and slipped on a new pair of the socks she'd bought me. I figured it would be easier to try things on if I could slip out of my clothes fast. Therefore, I chose to finish the outfit with the white mule sneakers.

I immediately learned consignment shops could be hit or miss. We came away from the first one with two skirts, a top and a cute pair of brown ankle boots. The second store we checked out went a little bit better, and we ended up with several tops, some more shoes, and a couple of dresses. I really didn't see myself as the dress type, but then again the white summer dress covered in flowers I had on was the first one I'd ever worn. The third store went even better, like we had hit the consignment store jackpot.

When we got to Laura's, I saw the sign listed lingerie, swimwear, and sleepwear. The sign fibbed a little bit, as they had a few more things inside. Several purses lined the walls, to which I wasn't interested, along with various hats. They even had a small section of shoes, but they seemed more adult oriented. I stopped in the middle of a section displaying sleepwear. My eyes fell on a satin short and top set, which looked vaguely familiar.

That's what I slept in Monday night. I still had on the pale pink satin sleepwear as I blinked awake Tuesday morning. For a few minutes I lay there, staring at the bland popcorn ceiling of my room, and listening for sounds in the house. I knew my mother and stepfather worked today. Their absence was evident from the lack of sound upstairs.

The only thing I didn't hear happened to be my brother. He was supposed to be home today. I slipped out from under my sheets. As I sat up on the side of the bed, my bare feet sank into the carpet. I took a brief moment to admire my frosted pink toenails. After realizing I could do whatever I wanted with them on Saturday, I decided to do them up on Sunday. For reasons unknown, I chose this shade of pink.

I sat there for awhile, still listening for any hint of life in the house. Before long I heard Justin talking to who I soon realized was Nathan. Their voices grew closer, coming up the stairs from Justin's room. Then I heard Justin mumble something about running plays in the backyard. Nathan mumbled something, to which Justin laughed, and then the house was silent again.

After another minute or two, I pushed myself up from my bed. I figured being Bailey today wouldn't hurt anything, considering Nathan already knew. He had found out about the whole thing when he caught me home alone the other day. As I traipsed around my room putting together an outfit, I hoped it wouldn't be too weird for them both to see me as Bailey.

I shimmied out of my satin sleepwear, draping it over my dresser drawer, and pulled out a pair of plain white panties. As I looked through my closet for something to wear, I slipped on a white padded bra to go with them. My mother had me pick out a few bras, and several more pairs of panties at Laura's. She also had me get several pairs of pantyhose, and some different colored tights. Apparently she planned on me doing this well beyond the summer.

I eventually settled on a pair of light tan Capri cargo pants I'd gotten the day before. They were so cute, and such a steal at the third store, even my mom said I had to have them. The waist closed with only a drawstring, and they could be scrunched at the bottom of both legs with little strings. For a top, I chose a white cap-sleeve shirt with "bebe" across the breasts in glittery pink letters. I gathered it all up and opened my door.

After checking the hallway twice, I scurried across it to the bathroom. I closed and locked the door behind me, tossed my clothes on top of the hamper, and made it over to the toilet. Since I'd started wearing panties, I'd gotten in the habit of sitting to pee. It was more out of convenience than anything. Not having the fly in the underwear caused me to have to pull them down anyway. So I just chose to sit all the time.

When I finished relieving myself, I wiped, and then slipped on the clean pair of panties. Another thing I'd grown quite accustomed to was tucking. It became more comfortable each time, and I continued to push my testicles up into my body. I stepped over to the sink to wash up a little bit. The cool water felt good on my face, and helped relieve the rest of my grogginess.

After a few unsuccessful attempts to fix my hair, I decided to go with untamed and wild. Mom's pink lipstick was still on the counter, so I used it again. I'm sure she wouldn't mind. I stepped into the cargo pants, and pulled them up all the way. They sat on top of my hips, and I could feel the strings at the bottom dangling against my calves.

I pulled the drawstring snug, and tied it in a bow at the waist. Then I cinched the legs in a little at the bottom, and tied them into bows. When I felt satisfied with how they fit, I pulled the shirt on over my head. The bottom of it barely came into contact with the top of the pants. If I moved at all, it showed a bit of my tan skin beneath.

I fixed a few strands of hair the shirt had messed up. I brushed my teeth, and gave myself a quick once over check in the mirror. With nothing left to do, I pulled the door open and stepped into the hallway. I scurried to my room once again. Then I slipped on my new-to-me pair of navy blue cloth ballet flats to complete my outfit. Before I stepped out of my room, I popped a piece of strawberry bubblegum into my mouth.

Justin and Nathan were tossing the football back and forth when I looked out the kitchen window. At first I was scared to go out and join them. Even though it was my backyard too, I felt like I didn't belong out there. I definitely didn't belong anywhere near a football, as I didn't know the first thing about it. Sure Tom and Justin talked nonstop about it, but they never really explained it to me.

If anything, I could go out and talk to them. Perhaps I could attempt to reopen the lines of communication with my brother. I watched Nathan jump for a ball thrown a bit high. He would talk to me at least. Unless he happened to be one of those people who didn't talk to you if he was around people his age.

After a few minutes of watching them, I decided to take a chance. I thought maybe I would take a peace offering, incase this didn't go over well. Stepping across the kitchen, I opened the refrigerator, and grabbed two bottles of water. Then I stepped back across the kitchen and opened the backdoor. The sun actually felt good having been in the air-conditioned house this whole time.

"Well hi there Bailey," Nathan said from halfway across the yard. "Looking a little more tan than the last time I saw you."

"You better stop sleeping in," Justin said. "Just because you wanna dress like a princess, doesn't mean you get to act like one. It's gonna throw you off schedule when school starts."

"I'm not worried about that," I said, as I closed the door behind me.

"Yeah man," Nathan said. "Giver her a break. She needs her beauty sleep."

"Whatever." Justin grabbed the football from Nathan's hands and walked away from him.

"You coming to watch, or you wanna run plays with us?" Nathan asked.

I chewed on my gum silently for a while before answering. "I brought you guys some water." I held the bottles up.

"Cool." Nathan walked over to take one. "Thanks."

"Like he knows the first thing about football," Justin said. "He avoids it like the plague."

"Is that true?" Nathan took a few gulps of water.

"Nobody ever really explained it to me," I admitted.

"More like you ran off when we tried," Justin said loudly.

Nathan pulled the bottle away from his lips. "I can show you." He looked me over, and then lowered his voice so that only I could hear him. "Unless you're scared of getting that pretty little outfit dirty?"

I shook my head.

"Well come on then."

Nathan took the other bottle of water from my hand, and put them both on the step of the patio. In a surprising move, he took me by the wrist and led me over to my brother. Justin gave him a weird look as we walked over. Nathan's grip felt firm, but gentle on my arm. It was so unlike Tom's cut-your-blood-off grip, that he used on me when I got in trouble. However, it wasn't exactly like Tiffany's friendly pull-you-along grip either. By the time I'd gotten used to being led around, Nathan stopped and dropped my wrist.

"Do you know the basics?" Nathan asked.

"He knows the person with the highest score wins," Justin said. He laughed a bit.

"Excuse me," I said. "I can answer for myself." I folded my arms across my chest, and chomped feverishly on my gum. "And could you please refer to me as a she."

"She what?" Justin asked through another fit of laughter.

Nathan elbowed my brother. "Come on man. Cut her some slack."

"Whatever." Justin walked over to me, holding the football up. "This is a football."

"Stop it!" I said. "I know stuff…"

"What do you know?" Nathan asked.

I pushed Justin away. The smile on his face looked like he found the cookie jar. "Well…" The left side of my face scrunched up as I thought hard for a moment about what I actually did know about football. "I know you can run or pass from Tom screaming at the television."

"Right," Nathan said. "What else?"

"This could take all day," Justin said.

I rolled my eyes at Justin, and then refocused on Nathan. "I know the basics. Like you have four downs to get a first down, and can score a touchdown, punt, or kick a field goal."

"That's pretty much all there is to it," Nathan said. "Why don't you like it?"

"It's not like I hate it," I said, chewing my gum as I talked. "I just don't get into it. Like I don't know what some of the positions are, or rules. Stuff like that."

"And that keeps you from watching it?" Nathan asked.

"She probably hates watching it with Tom," Justin blurted out. He tossed the ball to Nathan. "After this weekend, I'm starting to see what she's talking about with him."

"What do you mean?" Nathan asked, tossing the ball back to Justin.

"He only cares about himself." Justin tossed the ball back to Nathan. "We got to the cabin Friday night, and all he did was talk on his damn cell phone." He pointed toward me.

"That sucks." Nathan waved with the ball to get my attention. When I was looking, he gently tossed the ball to me. "Did you catch who he was talking to?" He pointed at Justin, who was clapping his hands together for the ball.

I thought about what Tom had told me, as I tossed the ball to Justin. "He said he was calling around checking up on me," I said. "I hope it wasn't that."

"No, he did that on the way to the cabin," Justin said. "But later he was talking to someone for hours. Almost like they were old friends." He tossed the ball to Nathan. "Seemed kind of guarded about me hearing it too."

"Maybe it was business?" Nathan asked as he tossed the ball to me, again more gently than anyone ever had.

"Business is business," Justin said. "He talks about that shit in front of us." He caught the ball from me. "This was different." His hand dropped, still holding the ball. "I wonder if he's having an affair."

"Yeah…" I chimed in. "That sounds kind of unusual for him."

"Well I'm sure it wasn't anything like that," Nathan said. "Maybe just an old friend he hadn't talked to for awhile?"

"Probably," Justin said. "But he blew off the rest of the trip because of Bailey."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"I'm not blaming you," Justin said. "Just stating fact."

"Well I didn't mean to ruin your weekend," I said.

"You didn't ruin it," Justin said. "Tom did that all by himself." He flashed me a quick smile, and then looked at Nathan. "Let's run some plays."

"Fine by me," Nathan said. "You wanna help Bailey?"

"Help with what?" I asked, chomping on my gum.

"The plays," Justin said.

"Can't I just watch you guys?"

"What's the fun in that?" Nathan asked. "Come on. You can play defense."

"It will help him get better," Justin said. "And maybe me too. Though that's a stretch."

"Like you're all that," Nathan said to Justin.

"I'm the fucking shit and you know it," Justin said.

"Hey," Nathan said. "Watch your language in front of the lady."

"Okay I'll do it," I said, interrupting their testosterone bath. "But I don't know how much help I'll be."

"Just try to keep me from catching the ball," Nathan said. "I can't promise it'll be easy though." He gave me a wink.

I followed him over, several feet away from my brother. He stopped at a suitable spot, and put a hand towel down on the ground. As he looked over at my brother to get a play, I sized him up. He stood over my five-foot-nothing frame by about another half foot or more. His body looked toned beneath his white tank top and silver shorts. I continued to stare at him until he turned to face me.

"The towel's the line of scrimmage," Nathan said. "So back up a bit. This isn't prom night. You can't be right on top of me like that."

"Ha ha," I said, moving back about a yard. "Here?"

"That's good," Nathan said. "Now no cheap stuff alright? You can try to slow me up within five yards of the towel, but after that you'll be doing what's called pass interference."

"So I basically just get in your way?" I asked.

"I guess you could put it that way."

"I'm good at that."

Nathan smiled at me. "Don't be afraid to go for the ball either," he said.

"We ready?" Justin asked.

"Think so," I said, chomping again on my gum.

Nathan nodded.

"Just go when I move the ball," Justin said to Nathan.

The first play they ran I stood out as an absolute failure. I stood there not knowing what to expect. Nathan took off to the right of me, and I gave chase after the rude awakening. He stopped about ten yards deep and came back for what I learned later was a curl pattern. I on the other hand kept running, expecting him to be close. He threw the ball back to Justin, and we lined up again.

"So you have a boyfriend Bailey?" Nathan asked, as he looked over to Justin for the play.

"No!" I said, with my mouth hanging open. "I mean… I have a girlfriend."

"Oh cool," he said. "So you're bi?"

Before I knew it Nathan took off running past me. I turned to try to catch up, but he caught the ball several yards away. He stopped and turned, smiling at me. I shook my head and turned to walk back to the line. As he passed me, he patted me on the head. Then he threw the ball back to Justin.

"Don't get distracted," Nathan said, turning in front of me to line up. "Keep your eyes on my waist, and it'll help you detect which way I'm gonna go."

"Okay," I said, staring at his waist. "And I'm not bi."

"Cool," he said. "So lesbian…"

I knew what he was doing. He was trying to distract me, but for some reason he made it into a little game to get personal information from me. The next play went a bit better. As he came off the ball, I put my hands on his chest to try and slow him down. He felt hard as a rock beneath my hands. When he moved his arms to push my hands down, I could tell he worked out. I back pedaled a bit, but he broke the pattern short and ran in front of me on a slant.

I stood there shaking my head as he came back. "I can't possibly be helping," I said.

"You'll get the hang of it," Nathan said. He tossed the ball back to Justin. "If anything you're a bit of a distraction. A pleasant one, but a distraction nonetheless."

"Would you quit flirting with her and line up?" Justin said. I saw him shaking his head.

"Sadly," Nathan said. "She's not into guys, or I'd ask her out."

This statement frustrated me a little bit, but I didn't know why. Nathan lined up, looking at my brother. He took off from the line for another pattern. I put my hands on his arm and pushed him to my left hard. It threw off his pattern a little bit, and I found myself in position to jump for the ball. I swatted Justin's pass down, barely touching it with my fingertips.

Justin groaned and clapped his hands together once. I walked over and got the ball. Nathan passed by me as I was tossing the ball back to my brother. He gave me a light swat on my bottom. It shocked me, and I turned to look at him. He just gave me a wink and returned to the line.

"Good job on that one," Nathan said. "Just don't break a nail."

Somehow Nathan and I found more and more opportunities to touch each other. Several times I'd put my hands on his chest, and give him a push here and there to disrupt him. I would reach up and grab his arm as the ball got to him. Most of the time this didn't stop him from catching the ball either. He was pretty good. So good, in fact, that I actually wanted to watch him in a game. This little realization bugged me more than Nathan's friendly touching.

Eventually I got the jump on a play, and ended up intercepting a pass. Surprisingly it was the same curl pattern as the first one Nathan had run. I caught it, and then kind of stopped. Before I could throw it back to Justin, Nathan rushed up and threw his arms around me. He picked me up and started swinging me from side to side.

"You gotta run with those girl," Nathan said, "or you're gonna get tackled."

Nathan swung me around a few more times. Then he picked me up higher like he was going to slam me to the ground, but instead he eased me back onto my feet. I threw the ball to Justin, then spun around to see Nathan smiling big. He tasseled my hair, and I playfully pushed him away. After he regained his balance, his smile came back, and he jogged around me to the line.

"Uh Bailey…" Justin said.

"Yeah?" I turned to look at him.

"I think Tom wants you," he said, pointing at the backdoor.

I turned to see Tom standing behind the sliding glass door. He took his right hand from his waist and waved at me to come inside the house. After turning back to give Nathan and Justin a be-back-later wave, I turned and trudged up to the door. Out of sheer nervousness, I chewed on my gum. I was afraid of what Tom had to say to me. He slid the door open as I approached.

"I need to talk to you for a few minutes," Tom said. "Come in and shut the door." He stepped back to the kitchen table and sat down.

"Am I in trouble?" I asked, as I stepped inside and closed the door.

"Should you be?" Tom asked with a raised eyebrow.

Perhaps he didn't see me flirting with Nathan. "I don't think so…" I said cautiously.

"Sit down," he said, pointing to the chair opposite of him.

I strolled around the table and took a seat. Tom sat there for a moment, looking like he was finding what to say. Then he calmly placed his hands on the table. He looked me over.

"I've been discussing this with your mother quite a bit," Tom said. "Perhaps I've been a bit too hard on you." He sat up straighter. "But don't think for a second I agree with what you're doing."

Tom's statement stunned me. He never apologized for giving me a hard time. Something seemed a little off, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt as he continued to talk.

"I mean I ruined a perfectly good trip with your brother, thinking about how I could rush back here and punish you." He took an uneven breath. "I'm not going to punish you though."

"You're not?"

"Not that it would do any good," Tom said. "You seem to defy me with every step when I try."

"I'm not trying to defy you," I said.

"Then what is it?" Tom asked. "Do you miss your dad? Do you need a different male role model?" He paused for a moment, appearing to find the best question to ask. "Do you want to be a girl? Is that what this is all about?"

"I…" Somehow talking to Tom seemed hard to do. He'd never really been there to talk about feelings. I took a chance, hoping he'd have an ounce of understanding somewhere in him. "I don't think I want to be a girl," I finally said. "There's just times when it feels good."

"So this is going to be something you'll be going back and forth on?"

"I'd like to." I looked down at the table. "At least for the time being."

"Is it the clothes?" Tom asked. "Is it some kind of fantasy you want to live out with your girlfriend?"

"I don't know how to explain it," I said. "It makes me feel like a different person."

"Well I'm not going to stop you," Tom said. "I just want to lay down some ground rules for you."

"That's fair I guess," I said.

"First of all, no more sleepovers until you decide what it is you want," Tom said. "It may seem like fun and games, but you are physically a boy, and I don't want you with a girl overnight. That goes for Zach, but especially Bailey. I honestly don't want you spending the night anywhere when you're Bailey. Especially a boy's house. If you and some other boy decide you're gay…" He sighed. "Never mind that. I just don't want you spending the night anywhere until you decide who you are."

"I understand."

"I'd like for you also to take it easy around your brother and his friends." He gestured at the door. "I saw you out there roughhousing and I'm scared you're going to get hurt."

"We were just having fun," I said. Part of me was relieved he saw it as roughhousing, when I actually saw it as flirtation.

"Well fun or not, those two are older than you," Tom said. "I'm not saying keep away from them. You can talk to them or watch. Play video games inside with them if you want to play. Your mom would kill me though if one of Justin's football buddies hurt you."

"What if it's not Bailey?"

"Just the same," Tom said. "I'd rather not have you horsing around with older kids." He leaned forward. "Besides there's a bunch of stuff you could be doing around here instead."

"Like what?"

"Well you like to read," Tom said. "Read a book. And there's plenty of chores around here. Help your mom with the cleaning or laundry." He sat back in his chair. "Learn how to sew, so you can upkeep your clothes, or learn to make new ones."

"Aren't those all things you say women should do?" I asked.

"Well you want to be a girl don't you?" Tom chuckled to himself. "If you're going to be a girl, do girly things. Why don't you take up quilting or something?"

"I don't think so," I said.

"Why not?"

"I'm already made fun of enough," I said. "I don't need that on top of it."

"No, I'm done making fun of you." Tom folded his arms across his chest. "And your brother won't be commenting on anything either. Your mom and I are talking it over with him tonight, and we've decided to let you run with this."

"For how long?" I asked.

"As long and as far as you want to take it," Tom said. "Go to your little parties as Bailey. Hang out with your girlfriend as Zach. Be a girl fulltime if you want." He put his hands back down on the table. "However, I would like for you to see a medical professional to make sure you're coming to grips with it all. Will you do that?"

"I can do that," I said.

"Your mom and I talked about it over the weekend," Tom said. "We agreed to get you in to see a specialist who deals with people who have gender identity disorder."

"What's that?"

"I think we should wait until you see the doctor," Tom said. "He'll explain everything to you, and there's a better chance I'll get it all screwed up anyway."

"Okay," I said, looking down at the table again. "When do I have to go?"

"You'll be seeing Doctor Rajan Dinesh. I made an appointment for the twenty-first," Tom said. "The Monday after your party."

"Oh…" I looked up at Tom. "I don't know if I'll be going to that."

"Your mother wants you to," Tom said. "And we both think you need to get out more, even if it is as Bailey." He pushed away from the table and stood up. "So you're going." He walked over and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. "You can go back outside, but take it easy. Pass the ball around and whatnot, but no more rough contact."

I slipped out of the chair and stood behind the table for a moment. Tom calmly opened his beer. He tossed the bottle cap, along with the can opener, onto the counter. Something about him seemed completely off. Like he had swapped bodies with someone who actually gave a damn about the people around him. I watched him for a moment, as he took a rather large swig of his beer. He lowered the bottle and looked at me.

"Did you want to talk about something else?" Tom asked.

"No, I…" After a quick glance outside, I looked back at him. "Why are you okay with this now?"

Tom shook his head with a smile on his face. "I told you I'm not okay with what you're doing," he said. "I just see it as something that has to be dealt with, and it's better to come at it with a calm and rational angle. Eventually we'll all decide what's best for you. Either you'll go back to being Zach, be both, or settle on Bailey."

"If I choose Bailey, you won't be okay with that?"

"If you go that route, I figure I'll have to just deal with you being Bailey. The truth is I'm more interested in you choosing a gender, than pretending to be both." Tom took another swig of his beer, and then sat the bottle on the counter. "You know that gets me wondering," he said. "Do you even like the name Zachary?"

"Well…" I thought about it for a moment. "It's just always been my name. I guess I do."

"Do you want to change it to Bailey?" Tom asked. "You know… officially? The name can go either way, and would stop a bit of the confusion around here."

"Wouldn't that be a problem at school?"

Tom shrugged, and picked his beer back up. "I'll talk to your mom, and we'll look into it." He took another swig of beer. "You wanna be Bailey or not?"

In a series of split decisions I've had to make in my life, I think this one was one of the easiest. I nodded my head. "I think so."

"I'll talk to Susan then." Tom raised his bottle in a style equivalent to giving a toast. "We'll make you Bailey officially."

In an unusual act between the two of us, I walked over and slipped my arms around him. It had been a long time since I even thought about hugging him, let alone acted upon it. He hesitantly put his arm around me. I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable, but his reaching out made me want to try to patch things up. He patted my back a few times.

"Thank you," I said.

"Go on out and have fun," Tom said.

Tom broke our embrace and left the room. For the first time in my life I was actually grateful at something he did. I carried our conversation with me, as I stepped out the back door. After sliding the door closed behind me, I looked around the backyard for my brother. He was over with Nathan by the dog pen, messing with our brown and white Pointer.

I always loved animals, even though most insects scared me to death. However, I never cared much for our dog. I found him to be impersonal and he never wanted to be pet. He also lived outside, and the fact he was a hunting dog made him even less interesting. The only part about him I found amusing was his name, Buckles. He acquired it after we found out he had an affinity for fighting seatbelt buckles in Tom's truck.

"Weren't you guys supposed to be working?" I asked, taking a seat on the porch steps.

"We lost our helper," Nathan said, sporting a grin.

"I'll just watch for awhile," I said.

"Aw," Nathan said. "You sure?"

"Yeah," I replied. "I think I got too much sun this weekend."

"Suit yourself," Justin said.

My brother nudged Nathan over to start practicing plays again. For the next hour or so, I watched them run everything from slants to fades. Nathan paused in between to explain a little more about football. Justin eventually chimed in, telling me each play they were running before they ran one. It felt nice being able to talk to my brother again, even if it was about football.

After running plays, the two of them did what they called ball-handling drills. Then they both came over closer to me and stretched. Nathan innocently asked me to help him stretch. I did, but I knew he just wanted to be touched by something resembling a girl. Deep down I think he was sweet and sensitive, but he still had the typical male tendencies. By the time Nathan had to go home, I had learned quite a bit about football, but not so much about Nathan. This disappointed me to some extent.

For some reason, Saturday morning I found myself sitting at my window. I watched the street below, taking note of what happened on our block that day. To be honest, I hadn't slept well at all the entire week. I woke up three or four times a night on average from the most bizarre dreams. They weren't nightmares, but yet they were still disturbing me. I sat at the window to try and forget them.

Mostly my dreams centered around Tom. It still made me uneasy thinking about why he had changed his entire attitude toward me. Sure, my mother could be very persuasive when she wanted to be, but she always gave in to Tom when the chips were down. She was completely submissive to him, but not subservient. What changed with Tom though? Did he suddenly feel the need to relate to me?

Our neighbors across the street came out of their house, bickering and complaining to each other. It was normal for them. I tried to recount all the times the police had sent a squad car over there. They didn't have those abusive kinds of fights, but Greg, the husband, had a nasty temper. His wife, Julie, usually called the police to come settle him down. It was kind of sad, because they were a young couple, lower twenties, and would probably see divorce before they hit thirty.

A flashy red sports car flew down the road. I didn't know cars. It just wasn't the type of thing I got into. Tom used to be able to tell you the car coming down the road by the sound of it's engine. He claimed that anymore all the cars looked the same. They had no ingenuity to them, and he couldn't tell them apart. Usually about that time, he switched to talking about football with Justin, or did the "when I was a kid" speech.

That's why I found it kind of nice that Nathan took his time explaining things to me. I guess guys just assume other guys know things. Nathan treated me differently. In fact, the more I thought of how he acted around me, the more I realized he treated me like a girl. I obviously didn't fool him with my dual side. Of course, he had never seen the other side of me. Would he even want to see Zach? I might not be cool enough for him. Did I purposely want him to see me as Bailey?

Bailey… another thing that puzzled me. Tom thought it would be perfectly fine for me to change my name. Where the hell did that come from? He did have several good points about the proposed name change. It did work for a boy or girl. Obviously it would stop a lot of confusion, as I would only have one name. When he brought it up at the table in front of mom, he also pointed out my middle name, Emlyn, could go either way as well.

It took my mother about ten seconds to okay the name change. She talked with Tom about it for several minutes. Tom said he could look into the legal issues. Mom claimed she would take care of the change at school, and could probably get it all done before I started seventh grade. My brother fell silent on the issue, but when they asked him, he didn't seem to care one way or the other.

True to his word, Tom had left the house early Wednesday morning to look into it all. I knew, because I woke up around the time he left. About an hour earlier, the first time I woke up, I had watched the sunrise for the first time in a long time. Also around that time, Nathan jogged by the house. I guess he jogged in the morning when he could, and nights when he didn't get around to it.

There didn't seem to be any logical reason why I kept thinking about Nathan. Guys never really interested me beyond friendship. I had enough to worry about keeping Tiffany happy. The only thing that stood out in my mind, was the fact Nathan treated me like a normal person. He might have said he didn't care one way or the other if I dressed as Bailey, but I think he did care. At least he cared enough to include me in things. In a time where I desperately sought approval, this kind of inclusion was like gold.

Saturdays always tended to be boring. Tom had taken Justin fishing to make up for the ruined weekend trip. So I sat in my room alone. Thoughts danced around my head like the butterflies on my pajama bottoms. Nothing seemed to grab my attention long enough for me to focus on one thing. I continued to stare out my window. Several cars went by. Even outside nothing stayed in one place long enough for me to focus on it. Before long I heard a gentle knock at my door.

"Come in," I called out.

My door slid open. "You busy honey?" my mother asked.

"No," I said. "I'm just sitting here thinking."

"I was thinking too," my mother said. "I was wondering if you'd like to try something a little special today?"

"Like what?" I turned to face my mother.

"I thought we could take advantage of this time in your life to try a mother daughter day."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Well…" My mother walked over and sat on the foot of my bed. "Some of the women at work got me a gift certificate for the Oasis Day Spa downtown." She reached out and touched my knee. "They do it every April for secretary day. I haven't used it yet, and I thought maybe you would like to go with me." She retracted her hand. "You know, for the experience?"

"Well that's definitely different," I said.

"If it's too much too soon…"

"Actually…" I thought about it for a moment. "I think it might be too soon for that."

"That's fine dear," mom said. "I don't want you to feel pressured into anything." She stood up and tasseled my hair. "I'll just call and cancel."

"You already made an appointment?"

She shrugged. "I thought you'd say yes."

I watched her for a moment before she left my room. My focus returned to the window, and the street below. Now all I could think about was what a spa visit would be like. I couldn't get my mind off of it, as there was nothing else to capture my interest. It seemed to be a typical boring Saturday. However, doing things while bored got me into trouble in the past.

What amazed me more is how my mother thought I would say yes. I wanted to say yes, but at the same time I wanted to be normal. Somehow going to the spa didn't strike me as a normal boy activity. The fact she had deemed it as a mother daughter day seemed even worse to me. Had I crossed some line which classified me as her daughter now? If that was the case, could I cross back over? And why did I suddenly want to go to the spa?

I jumped up from my little chair by the window. In about five steps I had cleared my room. My hand flew out to latch onto the frame of my door. The action gave me enough momentum to spin into the hallway almost in a full sprint. Then I had to slam on the brakes, as I nearly ran into my mother. She stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall with a big smile on her face.

"Change your mind?"

"Yes!" I said.

"Thought so," she said, giving me a wink.

"Well you already made the appointment," I said. "Might as well use it."

"Go take your nail polish off," she said, "and put on something comfortable. We'll leave in about thirty minutes."

I blazed back into my room. In one move I had closed my door and grabbed the nail polish remover. After carefully removing every last trace of pale pink polish I could find, I flew to my closet to find an outfit. I figured I wasn't dressing to impress, but rather dressing to undress quickly. So I started rummaging through all of the loose-fitting comfortable clothes.

Finally I settled on a pair of dark gray yoga pants. They were lightweight, and would be comfortable as it had been a bit cooler that weekend. To go with them, I pulled out a simple heather gray t-shirt with a slight V neckline. The collar, hem, and bottoms of the sleeves all had a maroon color. I put them to the side, on my bed, and went to my dresser. From the dresser, I pulled out a pair of plain white panties and a white padded bra.

By the time I'd gotten dressed, my mother came back to check on me. I sat on the edge of my bed, pulling my socks on, as she came in the door. She walked over close to me. As I finished adjusting my socks, she pulled my hair back into a ponytail. I felt her put one of those elastic hair bands around it to hold it in place. Then she watched as I slipped on my white mule sneakers.

"I made you a light breakfast," she said. "It's on the table. I want you to drink plenty of water today." She stepped toward the door. "I'm going to get ready now. We need to leave the house by nine."

Light breakfast was an understatement. She had made me a piece of toast with honey, half of a grapefruit, and set out a bottle of water for me. I had never liked the taste of grapefruit, but I managed to eat it all. Then I choked down the toast between gulps of water. I took the bottle with me to the bathroom and set it on the counter. After relieving myself and brushing my teeth, I was set to go.

My mother appeared ready to go as well. She sat in the living room, transferring items from one purse to another. When I walked in, she smiled at me. I returned the smile, and then took notice of her outfit. She had on a black skirt, knee length, with a beige short-sleeve blouse. The finishing touch was a pair of black pumps with four inch heels.

She seemed a bit dressed up for a trip to the spa. I started to wonder if she was going for herself, or just taking me there. Surely she wouldn't spend her entire gift on me. At least I hoped that wasn't the case. She worked hard, and deserved a break from time to time. Not only did she keep a house going, but her job seemed to be very demanding.

"You ready dear?" my mother asked.

"I guess so," I said. "I'm a little nervous."

"Oh don't be," she said as she stood up. "The more you relax, the better the experience. I think you'll enjoy the package I picked for you. It cost a little extra, but I want your first time to be perfect."

"Thank you," I said. "You do enough for me already."

"Well…" She put her hand on my shoulder. "I want you to see there's a softer side of life. Not everything has to be rigid." She caressed my cheek with her hand. "Sometimes us girls just need to be pampered."

"Well let's go get pampered," I said.

"Let's," she said, giving me a big smile.

Minutes later we were sitting on the freeway in her car. I never got to go downtown much. In fact the last time I had been wasn't exactly pleasant. My grandma had heart problems, and they took her to the larger hospital there. She made it through the ordeal, but I could never say I enjoyed the visit. So granted the bar was set pretty low for this current trip.

My mother, used to driving here for work, expertly maneuvered through a mindless series of loops and exits. When we pulled out onto Broadway, I finally got to see the city alive during the day time. People hurried down the busy street on both sides. Their apparel ranged from casual summer wear to sophisticated business attire. Some of the stores were still decorated with patriotic displays for the Fourth of July.

As we neared our destination, I started to get nervous. Doubt and apprehension filled me up, to the point I felt a bit nauseous. About half a block away, just past a stoplight, the sign for the spa jutted out from a large sand-stoned building. Amidst a colorful blue background, between two palm trees, were the words "Oasis Day Spa" in bright pink curly letters.

Perhaps we got there too early in the day, or they weren't busy, but we found a parking spot behind the building. I figured we would have to park in a garage and walk several blocks. After I realized my mother didn't turn off the car, I started to wonder why. When I looked up at the sign in front of us, it suddenly dawned on me. She had pulled into a spot reserved to drop people off.

"Aren't you coming in?" I asked, almost frantic.

"Of course," my mother said. "My appointment isn't for another hour though. I'll be back in plenty of time to get you."

"I don't want to go in there alone," I said.

"Honey they're expecting you." My mother turned to face me. "Besides, you're going to be alone in there for the most part. Well… not alone." She placed her hand on my shoulder. "Since it's your fist time, they'll have someone to assist you and answer any questions you have." Her hand moved to my hair. "Just go in and tell the girl at the desk your name is Bailey. Everything is set up for you."

"What about you?"

"I have some errands to run," she said. "Not to mention I need to find parking. You don't want to make me late for my appointment do you?"

"No…"

"Then go honey. You'll be fine." She caressed my cheek. "I promise."

I faked a smile. In all honesty, I really wanted my hand held on this. I didn't even know if I could make it to the door without fainting. My hand moved to the buckle on the seatbelt. As I slipped it off, my mother leaned over and pointed at her cheek. I glanced around, and then quickly gave her a peck on the cheek. Then I reached for the door handle.

"Oh!" My mother said. "I almost forgot." She reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. "Give this to the receptionist."

I took the envelope in hand. It had "Bailey" neatly written on the front, and was sealed shut. After exiting the car, my mother waved at me. I waved to her, and closed the door. She waited until I had walked around to the side of the building before she pulled out of the spot. Part of me wanted to run back to the car, but I pressed onward. Soon I found myself in front of the glass double door.

A soft melodic bell filled the air with a chime as I stepped in. The front office smelled like a botanical garden, but it barely hid the stiff office building smell underneath. At the front desk a nice young woman looked up with a smile. She had red wavy hair, obviously died, and soft makeup over her flawless skin. A pair of small rectangular glasses rested gently atop her small upturned nose.

"Welcome to Oasis Day Spa," the young woman said. "My name is Linda. How may I help you today?"

"I…" I swallowed as I stepped toward the desk. "I have an appointment for Bailey."

Linda looked down at her schedule book. "Bailey…" After a moment of pretending to search the entire United States phonebook, she tapped her finger on a spot. "Ah! Bailey!" She looked up at me. "I believe it's your first time at a spa?"

"That's correct," I said.

"Well I'm delighted you chose us for your spa experience." She looked at the schedule. "It seems you have a pretty busy day planned as well." She turned to the phone and picked it up. "You'll be assisted by Melanie today. If there are any questions, she'll be more than happy to answer them for you."

"My mother asked me to give this to you," I said, sliding the envelope over the counter. "She'll be back in an hour."

"Excellent," Linda said, taking the envelope. "I'll be sure to pass this along." She spoke quietly into the phone. "Bailey is here for her ten fifteen." She put the phone back on the pad and pointed to the door on her right. "You can step through there. Melanie will be along shortly to take you where you need to be."

"Thank you," I said, giving Linda a nervous smile.

"Enjoy!" Linda said.

I stepped over to the door, and pushed myself to open it. As I stepped through to the other side, I found myself in a small waiting area. I was about to take a seat, when a young woman walked into the room on the opposite side. Her smile made me feel at ease. She stepped across the room and extended her hand. I instantly warmed up to her, even though she looked about five or six years older than me.

"Bailey?"

"Hello," I said, taking her hand.

"Hi. I'm Melanie." She gave me a gentle handshake. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," I said. "A little nervous."

"Well don't be nervous," Melanie said. "I know, easier said than done." She took my other hand. "We want you to feel relaxed, and enjoy your time here." She let my hands drop. "I'll be here if you have any questions." She looked at the thin gold watch on her left wrist. "Why don't we get you to your changing room? I'm sure once you change into a robe, you'll feel a bit better."

Melanie turned on her stylish black pumps. They had a slim four inch heel, and really made her calves stand out in her nude hose. She dressed smart, and the sophistication in her apparel made her seem even older. Her hips swayed in her black pencil line skirt, a somewhat tight knit skirt which danced around her knees. I couldn't help but watch her firm bottom dance beneath the hem of her slinky red blouse.

She slowed as we neared a door in the hallway. I watched her knock three times on the door, before she opened it. Then she spun again, this time on her toes, to face me. With a pleasant smile on her oval face, she extended her arm into the room. I brushed past her, and found myself in a comfortable, posh changing room. Melanie stepped into the room behind me, and instantly went to a small closet.

"You can put your things in here," she said as she slid the door back. "We have a robe for you." She stepped over to a counter. "There are slippers here, and a wrap if you'd like to enjoy the steam room." She faced me. "I would highly suggest the steam room, but if you don't feel up to it, a nice hot shower should help you relax. You'll have plenty of time before you meet Theresa." Her hand moved to point at a small room. "Feel free to use the private facilities in there."

"Where do I meet Theresa?"

"Oh…" Melanie took a few steps away from the counter. "I'll come looking for you when it's time for your facial. You'll have plenty of time to relax in here, or in the relaxation room." She placed her hands in front of her skirt, taking her right wrist in her left hand. "Also, feel free to wear whatever you feel comfortable in." Her voice lowered. "A lot of first timers are apprehensive about nudity, and prefer to wear their undergarments under their robes. Some even choose to wear their street clothes, but I find the robe to be a lot more comfortable."

"Do I just stay in here and wait for you?"

"You can wait in here, or you can relax in the large room down at the end of the hall at any time. We call it the relaxation room. Just turn right as you exit here. Please be advised the relaxation room is co-ed, so modesty should be observed at all times." Melanie stepped over close to me. The scent of pineapple and jasmine danced from her and settled beneath my nose. "Unless you have any questions, I'll leave you to it."

"What fragrance is that you're wearing?"

"Oh this?" Melanie lifted her wrist to her small round nose. "It's ck one." She extended her wrist to me. "Guys and girls wear it. It's especially popular with teenagers."

I leaned closer and inhaled. It smelled citrusy, yet subtle, but also had a light musk to it. "I love it."

"I can get you a sample of it if you'd like?"

"Could you?" I smiled as she moved her hand away.

"Not a problem," Melanie said. "I can go get that now." She gave me a wink. "Anything else I can assist you with?"

"I think I can manage for now," I said.

"I'll let you get settled then."

Melanie dropped a key into my hand. Then she slipped past me. She pulled an "Occupied" sign from the handle of the door, and slipped it onto the handle on the outside. After she closed the door, I stepped over to lock it. I turned back to the room and decided to look around.

The floor had thick plush carpet, of a sandy color. In the middle there sat a large oval seat, rose colored, with plenty of cushion. I sat down on it and decided to slip my shoes and socks off, knowing it would make me feel more comfortable as I got acquainted with my surroundings. My bare feet sank into the carpet as I stood. I took a stroll around the room.

On one wall there sat a large vanity with a circular mirror. I flicked on a light switch next to it, and several lights lit up the mirror. There seemed to be plenty of room for a woman to set out her makeup and fix herself up. Not that I had any on me. I put the key on the table, and flicked the light back off. The room returned to a relaxing mellow light.

I looked toward the private bathroom. Although I didn't care to experience the steam room this time around, I did feel a hot shower would be relaxing. I pulled my top off, and dropped my pants. After hanging my clothes up, I unhooked my bra and stepped out of my panties. Melanie said I could wear undergarments, so I decided to hold onto my panties. I hooked my bra over one of the hangers, and carried my panties with me to the shower.

I pulled the hair tie from my ponytail, and shook my hair out before stepping into the shower. The hot water felt so good cascading down my bare shoulders and back. They had a dispenser in the shower, which pumped out a mixed hair and body wash. It had a soothing vanilla scent, and left my skin feeling smooth and slick. I stayed in the shower for several minutes, never being able to enjoy one longer than ten minutes at home. However, I figured Melanie would be back for me, so I reluctantly pulled myself out of the shower.

I pulled a large fluffy white towel from the rack. After patting my hair and body dry, I slipped my panties back on. Then I wrapped the towel around me like Tiffany had shown me; the way women should. As I stepped out of the bathroom I finally felt relaxed. It seemed like the less I worried about trivial things, the better this all became for me.

I stepped over to the closet. My towel slipped from my body and fell into a pool around my feet. My hands reached out and felt the pale pink robe. It felt amazing, so soft and fluffy. I slipped it off of the hanger, and put my hands through the sleeves. As I closed the front around me, tying the belt snug, I noticed it had two little pockets sewn into it. I walked over and slipped my key into the right-hand pocket.

When I looked in the mirror, I noticed a little white O embroidered into the robe over the left breast. As my fingers were tracing the O, there came a light knock on the door. I didn't even think about who it was or anything. Somehow tracing my finger along the O worked me into an odd trance. Before I knew it I had reached for the handle and opened the door.

"I'm glad to see you're making yourself feel at home," Melanie said as she walked into the room. "I was able to find the fragrance you requested." She held up a small white bag with the spa's monogram written across it. "And I threw in a few other things you might enjoy." She held her finger up over her lips in a shush motion.

"Thank you," I said. "You don't have to go to all that trouble though."

"Oh it's no trouble at all," Melanie said. "It's my job." She placed the bag on the vanity table and turned to look at me. "Did you need any help with your hair?"

"I thought I would leave it as is," I said, not really thinking anything about it.

"Oh, don't be silly," Melanie said, stepping into the bathroom. "We can't have you walking around with wet hair."

She came back in with a small towel, and a pleasant smile on her face. Before I could say another word, she had stepped over to me and had started to put my hair up in the towel. I watched her happy green eyes dance, as she worked her hands around my hair. She noticed at some point and glanced down into my eyes.

"How old are you?" Melanie asked. "If you don't mind my asking."

"Twelve," I said. "You?"

"Seventeen," Melanie said. "I've been working here part-time for the past two summers, but I'm learning so much. My mother is one of the stylists here." She paused for a moment. "In fact, you might be seeing her later. Her name's Pam."

"I'll keep an eye out for her."

"She did my hair." She continued to work on my hair. "I think she's pretty good, but then again, she's my mother."

"I like your hair." I looked at her short, but spunky style. It looked like she had just woken up, but there was obvious style to it. Her dark hair seemed to go everywhere, but still retain a strange evenness.

"Well you're very cute. It might work for you," she said. "Are you starting junior high this year?"

"Yes." I went back to looking into her eyes, afraid to look anywhere else. "You think I'm cute?"

"Well, I only meant it as a friendly compliment." She looked down into my eyes. "I hope I didn't offend you."

"No, not at all," I said.

"Okay," she said. "Sometimes I talk too much, and it gets me into trouble."

"You and me both," I said with a smile.

"Oh?"

"It's gotten me into quite a bit of trouble already this summer."

"How so?" Melanie asked.

"I probably shouldn't say."

"If it has to do with you actually being a boy," Melanie said, lowering her eyes to give me a knowing look. "I already know."

"What?!"

Melanie stepped back. "All done!"

"You know?"

"We all do," Melanie said. "Your mother thought she should tell us up front incase an incident arose." She frowned at my speechlessness. "Don't let it bother you. We want you to feel at ease, which is why we're treating you like any other girl that comes in here."

"I can't believe she told you though," I said.

"I shouldn't have said anything," Melanie said. "I talk too much. I'm so sorry."

"No, it's not your fault." I stepped over and sat on the oval chair. "I was just hoping, you know… that today it wouldn't matter."

"Well it doesn't matter," Melanie said. "At least not to me, or any other woman or man in this building." She sat down next to me, crossing her left leg over her right knee toward me. "And we want you to enjoy this day like any other pampered woman would." She leaned closer to me. "By the way, don't tell anyone I sat down on the job, but these heels are killing me."

"Why do you wear them then?" I said, laughing lightly at her statement.

"Oh it's a big image thing I have to put on display for our clients," Melanie said. "Last year I couldn't wait to go back to sneakers and flats for school."

"Well you could get a lower heel."

"These make me look older though." She held her foot out and flexed it at the ankle. "Don't you think?"

"I have to admit, they do make your legs look nice." I glanced at her with a grin.

"Oh you're fine," she said, bumping me to the side. "If you're up to flirting with the help, you're up to a day at the spa."

"I suppose so," I said.

"Just pretend you're one of the girls," Melanie said. "Nobody will say anything to the contrary. I promise."

Melanie reached over and grabbed the slippers from the counter. Then she slid from the chair, and onto her knees in front of me. She held my feet up, one at a time, and slid the slippers onto them. They were fuzzy, and pale pink just like the robe. As she stood, she adjusted her skirt. Then she held out her hands, and helped me stand.

"We need to get you to your first appointment," Melanie said. "I'll be assisting Theresa, but then I won't see you again until after your manicure."

We exited the room. I walked close to Melanie's side as she took me down the hallway. When we reached the large room at the end, I instantly knew why they called it the relaxation room. They had chairs, and big fluffy couches everywhere. There were a ton of books and magazines littered all over the room. They also had aquariums and on one wall a water window.

An older lady, perhaps in her thirties, stepped out of a side room. She looked fit, perfectly proportioned, and had the healthiest skin I'd ever seen. Her bleach blonde hair was immaculately put up in a tight bun in the back. When she extended her hand, I noticed it was painstakingly groomed. Everything about the woman screamed she took excellent care of herself.

"I'm Theresa," the woman said.

I took her hand, noting it was smooth as silk. "Bailey."

"I have the room set up for you," Theresa said, pointing at the empty room from which she came. "Melanie can help you get settled in. She'll be assisting me today."

"Thank you," I said.

"I'll be in to see you in a few minutes."

Melanie led me into the empty room. I looked around and took in a few things at first glance. The most obvious thing to notice was the large table in the middle of the room. It had white sheets draped over it, with a large pillow at one end, and a smaller pillow at the other end. The second thing I noticed was three stools under a counter. I noticed the counter had a multitude of bottles and various beauty supplies on it.

"When I leave, you can put your robe on the hook there," Melanie said, pointing to a hook on the wall. "Your slippers go there." She pointed at a small stool under the hook. "You'll be disrobing, and slipping between these sheets." She walked over to the table and folded the top two sheets down at the corner. "Rest your head on this pillow, and we'll adjust the other one if we need to." She stepped to the side and faced me straight on. "This is where I have to give a speech."

"Okay," I said, giving her a small smile.

Melanie cleared her throat. "Here at the Oasis Day Spa, we adhere to the highest standards in protecting your modesty. At no time will you be asked to do anything deemed as inappropriate. If you feel uncomfortable at all, be sure to inform either myself, or Theresa." She paused for a breath. "We are here to help you relax and feel pampered. Feel free to communicate to us anything that would make your time here more enjoyable." She held her hands up, pretending to hold a sheet. "Please pull the top sheets to your armpits. Leave your bust covered tightly, but your arms exposed and holding the sheets down." She demonstrated with her pretend sheet. "Any questions?"

I shook my head. "None I can think of."

"Feel free to ask about any of the procedure," Melanie said. "Theresa will even talk you through it at your request."

"Thanks Melanie."

"You're quite welcome." She stepped around the table to the door. "Theresa will be in shortly. Please take this time to get settled in." With that, she exited the room and closed the door.

I pulled the belt loose on my robe, and slipped it off over my shoulders. After hanging it on the hook, I kicked off my slippers and put them on the stool. The carpet beneath my feet appeared to be for function, rather than comfort. It felt stiff, like cheap hotel carpet, but I wasn't looking to stand around on it for long anyway. After slipping onto the table, between the sheets, I pulled them up like Melanie demonstrated, and rested my head on the pillow. I had only been under the sheets for a minute or two, when someone gently knocked on the door.

"Come in," I called out.

The door opened slowly. "How are you today Bailey?" Theresa asked as she stepped into the room. Her voice sounded soft and melodic.

"I'm pretty good," I said. "How about yourself?"

"I'm fine. Thanks for asking." She stepped over to the side of the table where my head was at. "Let me give you a fresh, dry head wrap. Okay?"

"Okay."

Theresa set about removing the towel around my head. While she did this, Melanie came back into the room and closed the door behind her. There was a slight pause in Theresa's actions, but then she started smoothing out my hair. She held it up, and then placed it in a lighter weight wrap designed to keep my hair out of the way. Then she wrapped it up, and stepped over to the counter.

"Would you like any music or something else to listen to today?" Theresa asked. "We have harp music, sounds of the ocean, rain storm…"

"Sounds of the ocean sounds nice," I said.

"Excellent!" Theresa said. "How is the lighting? Too bright? Too dim?"

"It's fine," I said.

"Good," Theresa said, walking back over to me. "I want you to relax, and try to enjoy yourself." She held her hands to the sides of my face. "Close your eyes and relax. If you have any questions, please ask. I'll try to answer as best I can."

I closed my eyes. At my feet I could feel the sheets being lifted up just past my ankles. I felt a hand gently pick up my left foot and place it back down on a soft cushion. Then the same was done for my right foot, and the sheets were replaced. I knew it was Melanie at my feet, as Theresa started to apply a cool liquid on my throat.

"Melanie's just adjusting your foot pillow," Theresa said, as she started to rub in the liquid in small circular motions.

"What is that?" I asked.

"This is a face cleanser," Theresa said. "It will remove any traces of makeup, or any other residue left on your face."

She continued to rub the cleanser up onto my face. Her fingers moved in small circles over my chin, then down my jaw and up to my cheeks. She kept going up to my nose, and finally came back down from my forehead. I started to relax. Now I knew why my mother enjoyed this sort of thing. I felt kind of bad taking this opportunity away from some other real girl who could be in my place.

Theresa stepped away, and apparently went to the sink. I heard water running. Then I could hear her talking quietly to Melanie. Suddenly I got an image of Melanie in my head. She knew I was a boy, and still thought I was a cute girl. What was it about older girls thinking a boy pretending to be a girl was cute? Even Theresa knew, and it didn't bother her one bit. I assumed it was because they dealt with male and female clients, but then again, maybe they dealt with other people like me.

"I can start there then," Melanie said, walking past me on the left.

"You can do the second part while the mask sets up," Theresa said. She came back over to me. "Okay dear. I'm just going to remove the cleanser now, and then I'll be putting a steamed towel over your face." She started running a sponge over my throat, and then joined it with another sponge on the other side. "The towel will help open your pores and let your skin breathe."

"While she does that," Melanie said. "I'll be doing a little work on your hands, and later your feet."

"It will help prep you for your manicure and pedicure later," Theresa said.

Theresa finished wiping the cleanser off of my face with the wet sponges. I heard a stool roll up on my left side. Melanie took my hand delicately in her left hand. Starting with my index finger, she took each finger and went about cleaning my nails with nail polish remover. I was pretty sure I had gotten it all off at home, but I figured they went over them to make sure.

Theresa came back once more with a sponge, and went all over my face and throat once. Then she stepped to the counter and came back with a moist towel. She draped it on my chest, pausing briefly, I suppose incase it was too hot. Then she pulled it up to my chin, leaving my mouth and nose uncovered. She folded one corner over my eyes, and then the other, covering my forehead.

"This will stay on for about ten minutes," Theresa said. "So just relax, and I'll be back shortly."

I heard the door open and close. Then I was left with the sounds of the ocean, and the subtle sounds of Melanie working on my hands. She finished with my thumb on the left hand, and then wheeled her stool over to my right hand. I felt her pick up one finger at a time and continue with the nail polish remover. When she had finished, she stood and walked over to the counter.

She came back over and stood at my left side. I heard a plastic bottle open. Then I felt her apply a thick cream on the back of my hand. She went all the way up to my elbow with the cream. I heard her step over to my right side and repeat the process. Then she set the bottle down on the counter and came back to my left side.

Melanie started to massage the cream into my hands and arms. It felt gritty as she rubbed it in. She paid a lot of attention to my elbows, and my knuckles. Then she jumped over to my right side and repeated the process. When she felt satisfied she had rubbed the gritty cream in enough, she stepped over to the sink and turned the water on. She came back with a bowl of water and a sponge.

"That was an exfoliating cream," Melanie said softly. "It removes dead skin cells, and helps soften rough patches of skin. I would suggest you do it at home as often as needed." She started to remove the cream with the wet sponge. "The sooner you start, the better off your skin will be in the long run."

"I'll remember to do that then," I mumbled.

"It also helps get you ready for your manicure, and I'll be doing the same for your pedicure." She rang the sponge out and moved it back over my arm. "Theresa will be doing the same to your face when she comes back in."

After cleaning my left arm off, she went over to the right to repeat the process. She stopped in between to get a clean bowl of water. When she seemed satisfied she had removed it all, she went back to the sink to clean the bowl and sponge. She came back and put another oily substance on my arm. Then she started massaging it in.

"This is olive oil, with a lavender extract," Melanie said. "It's what I use, and it leaves your skin feeling oh so smooth. I absolutely love it. Use it all the time after each shower." She leaned closer to my ear as she continued to massage my arm. "I put a bottle in your bag to take home with you."

"Thanks," I said.

"Don't mention it," Melanie said. "No really… don't mention it." She giggled a little.

"I won't," I said, enjoying her light mood.

Theresa came through the door about a minute later. She stepped over to the counter and I could hear her getting something prepared. Then I felt her removing the towel from my chest. She pulled it up slowly to my chin. After a short pause, she continued to pull the towel from my face. She leaned over me, and pushed and poked at my skin for a minute.

"I'm going to use a light exfoliating cream now," Theresa said. "It will get rid of dead skin cells and help promote new growth."

She started to rub something on my throat and chin. Using circular motions as she did before, she brought the substance up onto my face. It smelled like pumpkins. I also noticed it wasn't as gritty as the cream used on my arms. Theresa continued to apply it until she had my face covered.

Melanie moved over to my right hand and started to massage the olive oil into my skin. Theresa, meanwhile, came back in a minute or so and started to remove the exfoliating cream. When she had finished removing it all, Theresa came back and started to massage my shoulders. She moved back and forth from my shoulders to my chest. Then she started massaging the sides and back of my neck.

All of the stress I had dealt with since Tom caught me as Bailey, started to melt away. However, thinking about Tom also brought recent questions to my mind. I didn't quite understand his mood change toward me. He obviously didn't agree with what I was doing, but yet he wanted me to do it. Then he wanted me to pick a gender. I thought nature had already done that for me. Nothing made sense anymore.

Theresa moved to my temples and started to rub in circular motions. Melanie finished with my hand and right arm, but then I felt her stoop over me. I felt more olive oil string across one shoulder to the other. Then Melanie started massaging the oil into my upper arms, chest and shoulders. Theresa continued to work on my temples until Melanie finished.

They both seemed to taper off the massage, and then moved over to the counter together. I heard water running once more, and a few mumbled words between them. Eventually Theresa came back over to me. She began rubbing another cream on my face that smelled a bit like mint. I noticed it was a lot stickier and heavier than anything else she had used.

"This is called a mask," Theresa said, somehow noting my curiosity. "It will take about ten to fifteen minutes to set up." She continued to spread the cream over my cheeks and temples. "It will harden a bit and feel like it's pulling at your skin." She spread it over my forehead. "I'm using a balanced mask for your young skin. It will help with oily and dry areas your changing skin might have."

"While that sets up," Melanie said, pulling a stool to the foot of the table. "I'll be working on your feet and lower legs."

"Okay," I said.

Theresa leaned over me. "Try not to talk a lot or move your face with this on."

"Okay," I repeated.

"Good girl," Theresa said. "I'll be back in about fifteen minutes." She finished applying the mask. Then she washed her hands, placed a cucumber slice over each one of my eyes, and left the room.

I was left alone with Melanie once more. She had lifted the sheets up just slightly past my knees. As I lay there in silence, Melanie started going over my toenails with nail polish remover. She took her time, doing one toe at a time. When she seemed satisfied, she put a thick line of the exfoliating cream on each leg, from my knees down to my toes.

She stepped over to the counter momentarily to put the nail polish remover up. Then she came back to my feet and started rubbing the cream in. She paid special attention to my knees, heels and the balls of my feet. Each leg was thoroughly covered from the knees down. After a few more minutes of rubbing, Melanie moved over to the sink.

Once again she came back with a bowl of water and a sponge. I could feel the mask start to harden as Melanie started to remove the cream from my legs. She started at my knees, making sure to get it off of the backs of my legs. Then she dragged the sponge down my legs to my ankles. When she reached my feet, she took great care in removing the cream between my toes.

A minute later Melanie was back at my feet. She dribbled olive oil in zigzag motions down my shins. Then she began massaging the oil into my legs. After Melanie massaged the oil into my calves and shins, she moved to my knees. A few times her hands slipped up my thighs under the sheets, but not enough to make me feel uncomfortable. It felt good.

Eventually she moved the massage on down to my feet. She made an effort to massage the oil into each toe, and between them as well. Her thumbs rolled across the soles of my feet. From the amount of time she spent on them, as opposed to everywhere else, I wondered if she had a foot fetish as well. Maybe she was reflecting her own discomfort of her feet onto my feet. My curiosity was squelched when she started talking again.

"I've been learning massage techniques and how to care for feet," Melanie said. "They even have me assisting with your pedicure today."

"You're doing a wonderful job," I mumbled through the mask.

"Well thank you," Melanie said. "That's very kind of you to say." She continued to massage my soles, rolling her fist into the arches. "I'm thinking of becoming a podiatrist. You know? A doctor specializing in feet."

"Sounds like you got your future planned out," I said. "I don't know what I want to be."

"Well you have plenty of time to decide on a career," Melanie said.

"Oh…" I lowered my voice. "I meant boy or girl. I've been going back and forth on it in my mind ever since this all started."

"Oh I see," Melanie said. "Well if you don't mind my asking… Do you enjoy being a girl?"

"I'm enjoying it right now," I said with a slight laugh.

Melanie slapped my right foot gently. "I'm serious." She went back to massaging my foot. "Do you enjoy it?"

"I do at times."

"Is it the clothes or do you like fooling people?"

"I never did it to fool anyone," I said. "At least not on purpose." I shifted a little, feeling a bit uncomfortable from the questions. "I do like the clothes though."

"They are fun," Melanie said. "Guys clothes seem boring to me." She sat silent for a moment before popping the next question. "Do you try to act like a girl?"

"Again, not purposely," I said. "My girlfriend says I do even when I'm not trying."

"Oh you have a girlfriend?" Melanie asked. "What's her name?"

"Tiffany," I said. "Her sister Kate is your age."

"Kate Stewart?"

"Yes…"

"I know her!" Melanie said. "I had three classes with her last year. Wait a minute!" She stopped massaging my foot and held it in her hand. "Was that you at the pool party with Tiffany?"

"Yes," I said nervously.

"I wouldn't have even guessed…" Melanie took my left foot in her right hand. "I mean I never put you together with…" She started to massage both feet together. "Wow! To think there was a boy there besides Rebecca's annoying brother." She let out a small laugh. "Well, I guess in all honesty there really wasn't." She shook my feet. "I mean no boy would wear a swimsuit like that."

"I suppose not," I said.

"Did you want to learn how to be more feminine?" Melanie asked.

"How do you mean?"

"Walking, talking… You know? How to act the part?"

"I never really thought about it," I said. "Was just doing this for fun and it got a bit out of hand."

"I would love to work with you," Melanie said. "We can all get together and work on it."

"I don't know…"

"Oh please?" Melanie begged. "It would be so much fun."

"I guess we could," I said. "I'm over at Tiffany's quite a bit."

"I'll call Kate then," Melanie said. "We can set something up." She held my feet firmly for a moment. "Oh this is going to be so much fun!"

After a light knock on the door, Theresa breezed back into the room. Melanie finished up the massage, and pulled the sheets back down to cover my feet. I heard them both over at the sink, mumbling beneath the running water. Theresa came over to my face and carefully removed the cucumber slices. Then she set about wiping the mask off with sponges.

Melanie came over to my left side. "Bailey…" She placed her hand on my arm, causing me to open my eyes. "I'm going to go inform them you're ready for your manicure. I'll be seeing you a little later on." After giving me a knowing wink, she removed her hand and stepped back.

"Thank you," I said.

"Take care," Melanie said, before exiting the room.

"I noticed you have a healthy tan," Theresa said as she stepped back over to me. "I'm just afraid you got a bit too much sun. I'd like to give you a moisturizer to help restore damaged skin. It needs to be applied daily for a couple of weeks. This is what you'll be using." She started to apply the moisturizer to my throat, neck and face. "It has a nice subtle cherry and vanilla scent for summer."

"It smells very nice," I said.

"I'll have the moisturizer up front for you when you leave. Just remember… once a day for two weeks," Theresa said. "Although you don't have to stop using it then if you like it." She started to unwrap my hair. "In fact, I would suggest you continue to moisturize daily if you'll be in the sun a lot." She pulled the wrap from my head. "Take a minute or two getting up, and then you can dress and wait out in the relaxation room."

"Thank you Theresa," I said. "You were wonderful."

"Well thank you," Theresa said. "It was nice to meet you Bailey, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your day here."

"Goodbye," I said.

"Take care now," Theresa said before leaving the room.

I waited about a minute to get up, making sure nobody would come back in the room. Then I slipped my legs out from under the sheets. I sat there on the table for a moment, letting my legs dangle from the side. As soon as the blood came back to my extremities, I stepped down off of the table. I walked over and slipped on my robe and slippers, then I exited the room.

Out in the relaxation room, I took a bottle of water from a table filled with snacks and drinks. I stepped over to a large pillow-cushioned chair and curled up on it. For several minutes I just sat there, taking sips of water from the bottle. Soothing harp music filled the air. My face felt full of life, and my feet felt like I'd never walked a day in my life.

I began to wonder if I could start to enjoy being a girl fulltime. Sure Tom wouldn't agree with it, but my body sure as hell agreed with it. I felt so good at that moment, so relaxed and so sure of myself. As I sat and dreamed about what it would be like to live as a woman, a young woman in her twenties came in and sat across the room from me. I watched her for a moment pick up a magazine, and then she spotted me.

We exchanged smiles. I went back to sipping my water. For a moment nothing could be heard but the harp music from the speakers overhead. I heard the woman flip a page of her magazine. Then out of the blue, she dropped the magazine and looked at me. I sat frozen for a moment until she tossed the magazine down on the table, and grabbed another.

"Bailey?"

I turned to see a young black woman standing at the end of the room. She was a bit heavy set, but had a lovely complexion. Her black hair, straightened, was put up much like Vivian Bank's hair on the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. I motioned in the affirmative to her. Then I straightened myself out in the chair, prepared to stand and follow her.

"Well come on girl," the woman said. "Let's go make them nails pretty."

I smiled at her, removing myself from the chair.

"Name's Tonya." She extended her hand.

"Nice to meet you," I said, shaking her hand.

"We'll be in here," Tonya said, taking my water bottle and ushering me into another room.

Tonya stepped into the room behind me, placing my bottle on a counter by the door. The room had several tables setup with a padded chair on one side, and a conventional desk chair on the other. Tonya walked me over to the padded chair and helped me into it. She walked around to the other side and took a seat. Then she fidgeted with a few things on the table. Eventually she seemed satisfied with everything, and gave me a big smile.

"Go on and put your hands up here," Tonya said, patting a large soft pad.

I put my hands up on the table. Tonya reached out and took my right hand, examining it for a moment, and then she examined the left. I noticed she had some very soft hands. She rolled the sleeves of my robe up to my elbows. After this she pulled a small kidney-shaped basin over and placed my hands into the warm water inside of it.

"You have some lovely little hands," Tonya said. "Don't think I'll have to do much at all to them." She smiled pleasantly at me. "We'll just doll them up for you."

"Thank you," I said.

"Most girls your age be bitin' their cheap polish off," Tonya said. "Drives me crazy having to fix all of their torn up nails." She looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "Now I want you to take good care of these hands, you hear?"

"I will," I said with a small smile.

"Keep them soft to the touch, and your nails well groomed. Can always tell a lady by the way they take care of their hands," Tonya said. "You probably know that from watching Gone with the Wind though. Am I right?"

"I'm afraid I haven't seen it," I said.

"Girl, you need to watch that," Tonya said. "It's a classic! In fact, read the book." She sat back shaking her head. "Always good for girls your age to be well-read."

"I'll do both then," I said.

"That's my girl," Tonya said. "Good for you."

She let my hands sit in the basin for a few minutes, before taking my left hand out and placing it on a towel. Then the jovial Tonya started to apply a cream onto my nails, as she hummed quietly. She set the bottle down, and I read "cuticle softener" on the label. To be honest, I didn't have a clue what a cuticle even was until that day. Tonya massaged the cream a little bit into base of my nails.

After about a minute or two, she wiped my nails off with the edge of the towel. Then she took a stick and started pushing back my cuticles. If anything, I could say I learned at least one thing that day that I never knew before. She went from nail to nail, pushing the cuticle back. When she finished with the stick, she came back to my pinky and ring finger with scissors that looked like little pliers, and snipped some rough skin away.

She placed my hand back into the basin, and took out my right hand to repeat the process. Several minutes later she had both hands out on the towel. I watched her go from nail to nail with a file, shaping my nails into an oval shape at the ends. Next she came back with another type of file and started working on the top of the nails. She called it buffing, and I noticed it made my nails smooth.

"Alright girly girl," Tonya said, dipping my fingers in the water a couple of times and then wiping them dry. "What color can I set you up with today?"

"What do you have?"

"Anything your little heart desires," Tonya said, standing up and walking to a large counter on the other side of the room. "Red, blue, French manicure. You could even go a little wild with that tan. Maybe do a yellow or orange." She looked back at me. "But you look more like a pink type of girl to me." She smiled. "Am I right?"

"I do tend to wear pink on them quite a bit," I said.

"I thought so girl," Tonya said. "Which would you like? Carnation? Rose?"

She brought over a chart of pinks for me to look at. I went with my first instinct. My finger landed on the first color that caught my eye. Tonya gave me a big smile.

"I thought you'd pick that one," Tonya said. "Shocking pink." She put the chart back over on the counter. "Even brighter than hot pink. Perfect for a bright young girl like yourself."

She came back over to her chair with the nail polish. After sitting down, she took a bottle of base coat and set it between my hands. I watched her open the bottle, and then she gathered up my left hand in her left hand. For the next several minutes I watched each nail go from dull, to shiny. Then they went from shiny to bright pink, and finally shiny bright pink. Tonya set my hands down gently to let them dry.

"There we go Bailey," Tonya said. "Boys will be dying for you to touch them with those soft girly hands now."

"I don't really get attached to boys," I said, trying to avoid the awkwardness of her last statement.

"Girl that's okay," Tonya said. "I don't either." She laughed a bit. "But they always fun to toy with."

I even had to laugh at her sentiment. "I guess so."

"Melanie will be in here in a few minutes to take you for your pedicure," Tonya said. "I'll send this color along. I just know you want them cute little toes to match."

"Thank you Tonya," I said. "I enjoyed having you do my nails."

"Don't mention it girl," Tonya said. "I like you. You're good fun." She held her finger up, like giving me a lecture. "Now you go easy on them nails for about half an hour. Don't want to go messing up my work now."

"I'll go easy," I said. "Promise."

"Good girl."

"Nice to meet you," I said.

"Come back and see me anytime girl," Tonya said before slipping out of the room.

About twenty minutes later I found myself sitting in a large comfortable chair. My feet sat in a basin of bubbling water and bath salts. Melanie stood over with a older woman named Emily. The skinny Emily, perhaps in her late forties, was explaining to Melanie the steps they were taking during my pedicure.

I recalled Emily staring down her pointed nose, past her wire-framed glasses, at me with her gray eyes, while she asked me if it would be alright for Melanie to use me for a learning experience. I happily agreed. Maybe if I was older I would've preferred to enjoy the spa in silence. However, at my young age, it didn't really bother me for people to talk. It actually made me feel at ease.

So Emily took Melanie through the steps of a pedicure. They soaked my feet in the bath for about ten minutes. Emily had instructed Melanie to take my left foot out and scrub at it with a small stiff brush. Then she had her repeat the process with my right foot, and put them back in to soak for a few more minutes. The whole time she instructed Melanie with a quiet, reserved, and at times a dry voice.

I sat back and tried to enjoy myself. As she instructed Melanie to work on my heels with what she called a pumice stone, I took small sips from my bottle of water. Emily explained the pumice stone would leave my feet feeling smooth and silky. Once Melanie had done both feet, Emily went back over them to double check. The rest of the pedicure was done solely by Emily, but she continued to instruct Melanie on what she was doing.

Emily followed the pumice stone with cuticle softener, and pushed my cuticles back like Tonya had done to my fingernails earlier. She took a lot more time with the scissors than Tonya had. Emily continued to find more and more places to dig callused skin out to clip. I have to admit later, that due to her thorough job, my feet felt amazing.

Next she clipped, filed and buffed my nails. Finally she finished them off by painting them up in the same shocking pink as my finger nails. Melanie really seemed stricken with the color I chose. Knowing what she knew about me, she probably thought I was more girl than boy. Truth be told, at the moment I felt more that way.

Emily left me with Melanie to finish up. Melanie drained the basin I had my feet in. Then she went about wiping up any spilled water. I sat back in the chair and relaxed as I was told. Eventually Melanie finished up her work and stood before me. I sat up to look at her.

"We're going to let you sit in here for about ten minutes," Melanie said. "It will be plenty of time for your nails to dry." She stepped to the door. "So just relax, take it easy, and drink your water. I'll go inform Pam you're ready for your cut and style."

"Cut and style?" I asked looking at her confused.

"Your haircut silly!" Melanie said. "You're going to look so cute when my mother gets done with you." She smiled. "I'm sure nobody will be able to tell you're a boy when she's done."

Melanie gave me a wink, and quickly left the room. I was speechless. Not once did my mother mention cutting my hair. She absolutely didn't mention I'd be unrecognizable as a boy when this day was through. I felt like running out of there at that very instant. The only problem was, all I could think about was not ruining my nails. What was wrong with me? What was wrong with my family!? And where was my mom?

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To Be Continued...
 

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Part 6

I couldn't believe it! Mindlessly I let myself be led from the pedicure room through the relaxation room and into a full service salon. Before I could conjure up a rational thought, I watched a cape whisk over my front. The stylish woman, in the mirror behind me, lifted my hair out of the way as she fastened the collar of the cape around my neck. Her thin delicate hands sifted through my hair as she teased it.

"Seems I have a lot to work with here." She leaned over me. Her dark auburn hair dangled down my shoulder. "My name's Pam. I'll be your stylist today Bailey."

"Nice to meet you," I said cautiously, still in shock at the turn of events.

Looking back on it now, it really wasn't much of a surprise how I ended up there. I had let myself be talked into a visit to the spa by my mother. She had casually called it a mother daughter day. Little did I know she actually wanted to turn me into her daughter. There I sat in a hairstylist's chair, being pumped up toward certain ridicule. Soon my somewhat effeminate hair would be truly feminine, and I didn't have the courage to back out of it.

"Your mother picked the style out of a magazine, but I was wondering if you wanted something a little different," Pam said.

In a semiconscious state of mind I managed to piece together what Pam had said. Her nimble index finger pointed at a page ripped from a magazine. It sat precariously under her mirror, and seemed to reflect back at me mockingly. The model's bright blonde hair tickled her shoulders, and went up in playful layers to the top of her head. Slightly curled bangs fell past her eyes, and were light enough to be able to see the blonde's smiling green eyes through the hair.

Pam leaned over me again. "I know you're probably stunned by all of this." I felt her hand reach out and turn my chin to face her. "If I leave it a bit long, you can always cut it again before school starts." Her bright red lips framed her pleasant smile. "You'd probably like that option I'm sure."

"Does my mom really want it that way?" I asked.

Pam stepped over to the counter of her station. "I want to know what you want," she said. "This whole day has been about you, and this hairstyle should be about you as well."

"I like my hair," I said, looking into the mirror.

"I can style it without cutting it," Pam said.

I shook my head.

"Your mother won't be mad," Pam said. "She'll understand."

"It's not that," I said.

"Did you want a different style? I can give you a magazine to look through."

I continued to shake my head. "Maybe…"

"What sweetie?"

"Could you make it like Melanie's," I said. "Only a little longer."

Pam smiled. "I can do that." She stepped over behind me and played with my hair a bit. "Is that what you really want?"

"I think so…"

"It'll be really feminine," Pam said. "Just warning you."

I stared into the mirror for a moment. My mother actually wanted me to be a girl. At least I thought she did. Tom, my stepfather, on the other hand, was totally against it, but said it was up to me. My brother Justin had been calling me Bailey since Tuesday when we discussed changing my name from Zachary. Even my girlfriend Tiffany wanted me to be a girl. It seemed like everyone around me wanted Bailey except me.

"I want it to be," I said.

Pam's eyebrow raised in the mirror behind me. "You sure?"

"I want to look as feminine as possible," I said, without a hint of doubt in my voice.

"In that case," Pam said, "might I suggest some work on your eyebrows?"

"If it'll help," I said. "I don't wanna be recognized…" I lowered my voice, though we were alone. "As a boy."

"I can definitely do that for you," Pam said. "I can't guarantee it'll all go back to normal by school though."

"I can deal with that," I said.

"So be it," Pam said. "You're braver than I thought."

She continued to play with my hair for a moment. A pleasant smile sat frozen on her tan face. If I didn't know any better, I could swear she was waiting for me to change my mind. Eventually she eased my hair down, and stepped over to her counter. She came back with a spray bottle in one hand and a comb in the other. With one more decided look in the mirror, she set about wetting my hair and combing it out.

I sat in a daze for a long moment. In the mirror I watched my hair go from nearly dry to workably wet. Pam now appeared dedicated to the task. As she combed my wavy hair out as straight as possible, pulling the comb through a few rats, she took on this aura of seriousness. After a few more moments of combing out my hair, she put the spray bottle back onto her counter. Then she walked back behind me with the comb and a pair of scissors.

"Are you absolutely sure?" Pam asked.

I eyed the scissors and comb in the mirror. My wet hair fell in strings around my head. This was my last chance to scream "negative" and to abort the mission. I didn't. Even with all of her warnings and chances to get out of this, I wanted it to continue. The reflection in the mirror, of the pretty girl with the wet hair, nodded.

"Okay," Pam said in a serene tone. "I'm going to start with doing some choppy layers on your sides, back and crown. Then we'll move to the front and give you some cute bangs."

Start she did. In a matter of seconds, Pam had taken the plunge into my hair. Her nimble fingers maneuvered the scissors like a trained surgeon. I had never had my hair cut by anyone considered a professional, at least not in my opinion. Usually I was taken to the local ten dollar hack job place. Like all things that day, this too was a new experience.

"Since your hair is naturally wavy," Pam said. "I'm going to try to leave a bit of wave at the end of each layer." She paused to put her hand on my shoulder. "I don't know if I'll be successful, but I'll try. It should also leave it a bit longer." She smiled and went back to cutting.

I watched her drag the comb through my slick hair. Then she expertly cut it off at the same length. In the mirror I could see my hair slowly transform. Up to this point it had been a bit long, but with no shape to it. Now, as the sides began to step down in layer upon choppy layer, it was truly starting to look like a girl's hairstyle.

"I'm going to leave the back a little long," Pam said, putting her finger halfway down the back of my neck. "You have a natural flip there, and I think it'll look cute." She started cutting my hair in the back. "I'm layering it much the same way as the sides."

By the time Pam had worked up to the top of my head, before the bangs, I could already see there was no way I'd ever be called a boy. It didn't matter how boyish I made myself look, or what clothes I wore. People would either call me a tomboy, a girl, or a sissy. At that moment, I didn't care anymore. I liked the way my hairstyle was turning out.

Pam spun my chair around to where I sat facing her. With my back to the mirror, I couldn't see her finish her masterpiece. It didn't seem to matter anyway, as I kept my eyes shut for the next part. She combed my hair out in the front, leaving long strands draped over my face. I could feel her then taking strands at a time and cutting them off.

"Keep those pretty blue eyes closed," Pam said. "I'm layering your bangs too, but I think you'll look cute with asymmetric bangs."

"What does that mean?" I asked, unsure of the meaning of asymmetric. Did I learn that in elementary school?

"It means they'll be longer on one side than the other," Pam said. "In your case, I'm leaving the left side longer than the right." She continued to cut. "If they bother you later, you can have your mom straighten them. I just think it works for you personally."

"Okay." I really didn't have much else to say to her explanation.

When Pam had finished with my bangs, she went back over my hair. In various spots she took a little more off. She walked back to her counter without turning my chair back around. After a few seconds, she came back. I caught glimpse of something shiny and metallic in her hand. Then she lifted her hand to my face and I realized she held a pair of tweezers.

"I'm just going to clean up a few hairs on your eyebrows," Pam said. "This might hurt a bit at first, but you get used to it really quick."

She was right. It hurt a bit at first as she quickly plucked hairs from my eyebrows. After several plucks, however, the area became numb. In my head I tried to conjure up what the meaning of "a few" was to her. It seemed like she spent half an hour plucking at my eyebrows. Maybe I was just anxious to see the finished product. Eventually she rubbed both eyebrows gently with her thumbs.

"There," she said. "That wasn't so bad was it?"

"Not really," I said.

"You're actually a bit lucky," she said. "Some blondes your shade have blonde eyebrows as well." She came back with a hairdryer and a round brush. "You got the dark ones people can see, and they honestly were shaped quite nicely to begin with."

Pam set about drying my hair. She used the brush to curl the wavy ends of my hair. I was dying to see what she had done to me. The slow methodic way she dried my hair drove me crazy. I could've sworn she was deliberately postponing the inevitable.

Finally she seemed satisfied with the level of dryness of my hair. She walked back to her counter to put the hairdryer and brush away. When she came back I noticed she was playing with some sort of styling wax. Her fingers plunged into my hair. They flexed back and forth, pulling and teasing here and there. As she worked the final touches into my hair, she turned the chair slowly to face the mirror.

"And there we are," Pam said.

My eyes must've grown about five times their normal size. I couldn't believe what I was looking at. Wavy layers popped out everywhere on my head. In the back, my hair flipped out to each side of my neck. Above my eyes, wispy bangs swept to the left, curling inward and lightly brushing across my thin, and now slightly arched eyebrows. My pouty lips dropped open as I beheld the girl in the mirror. Pam continued to tease my hair.

"Oh my." Melanie's voice drifted in from the doorway.

I couldn't pull my gaze away from the mirror. Pam stepped away, as her daughter came up behind me. Melanie took her mother's place, and began to tease my hair. I couldn't speak. Mindlessly I sat there, staring at two girls in the mirror. As Melanie continued to move her fingers in and out of my hair, I felt like her puppet. She used this to her advantage.

"So I talked to your mom," Melanie said.

"Oh?"

"She thinks it's an excellent idea for you to work with Kate and I."

"Work with you?" Pam asked.

"Bailey wants to learn how to be more girly," Melanie said. "I was thinking Kate and I could help her."

"Oh I see…" Pam walked over with a broom and started to sweep up my discarded hair. "You sure you want to do that?" She asked, looking at me in the mirror.

"I think it would be fun," I said.

"Fun for them," Pam said. "I think you'd be surprised at how strict Melanie can be." She swept up some of my hair. "And Kate can be deathly serious when she has to be."

"Your mother seemed pretty serious about it too," Melanie said. "She even offered to pay us."

"I hope you turned her down young lady," Pam said.

"Oh I did," Melanie said. "But I'm going to treat it as if she did pay us." She looked down at me in the mirror. "It's not going to be all fun and games. There's going to be some serious learning." She waited until her mom turned away before giving me a mischievous wink.

"Did you agree upon a schedule?" Pam asked.

"I called and talked to Kate. We decided Tuesday and Thursday afternoons once school starts," Melanie said. "Those seemed like the best days for everyone."

"When school starts?" I asked.

Melanie patted my head. "She can come over to Kate's after school, and her mom can get her after." She totally ignored my question. "It'll give us about an hour to set up."

"Well it sounds like you're serious about it," Pam said. "As long as it doesn't interfere with school and you treat it like a job…"

"We definitely will," Melanie said.

"Are you okay with all of this Bailey?" Pam asked.

"Of course she is!" Melanie leaned over me, wrapping her arms around my neck in a friendly hug. "She already agreed to it."

"Well I have some old cosmetology books at home that might help," Pam said. "I guess you could find some books on deportment at the library, or stuff on the web."

"Thanks mom!" Melanie said. "You're the best."

"Why don't you take Bailey back to her room now?" Pam asked.

"Oh…" Melanie retracted her body from me. "You have a new outfit waiting for you." She unfastened the cape from around my neck, and carefully removed it. "Your mom had me put it in your room."

I followed Melanie back to the changing room. The silence felt a bit melodramatic, but I didn't feel like sharing my sentiments about my predicament with the people we passed. Surprisingly a young man in his twenties sat out in the relaxation room. This little bit of information put my mind at ease about being the only male in the building. Though at the moment I didn't feel very male. I definitely didn't look the part.

"Here we are," Melanie said, her voice snapping me back into reality.

My hand fumbled for the key in my pocket. I pulled it out, my hands shaking as they moved to the door handle. Why I felt nervous at the moment, I had no idea. The feelings inside of me were beginning to well up, and maybe I was scared I'd reach the point of bursting when I saw my outfit. Perhaps I had some doubts about this entire day.

The door swept into the room, brushing against the plush carpet inside. Melanie let me enter first, but again stepped by me into the room. I put the key on the counter near the door, and watched Melanie. I knew we'd probably be getting a lot closer in the future. At that moment in time, however, I really wanted to be left alone. I wasn't used to this much attention, and I felt uncomfortable with the sisterly way she already acted around me.

"I put the dress over here," Melanie said. "It is absolutely darling." She pulled a dress from the small closet and held it up in front of her. "What do you think?"

I stepped over to examine the dress. The pearl-colored satin material slid through my hand. It felt a bit heavier than Tiffany's sleepwear, but just as slick. With a bright and varied pansy print over the pearl, the dress could go with about anything. The sweetheart neckline swept down from inch wide straps, and gathered at the front with a row of pearl color buttons. Completing the feminine appeal of the dress, the full, gathered skirt had a slight layer of lace peeking out at the bottom.

"Do you need any assistance?" Melanie asked quietly.

Already uncomfortable with the situation, I looked at her shaking my head. "I think I can manage."

"Okay," Melanie said, handing me the hanger. "I'll be just outside if you need anything."

"Thank you," I said, taking the dress in my hands.

Melanie stepped past me, turning at the door. "The shoes are on the ottoman," she said, as she pulled the door shut.

Shoes. That one word could catch my attention in a crowded room of screaming people. I'd grown to have a fond appreciation for shoes over the past two weeks. The various styles had always amused me, but when I stepped into the women's side of shoes, it opened up a whole new world to me. I couldn't explain it. I just liked shoes.

I hung the dress on the back of the door, and stepped over to the ottoman. As I slipped onto the cushiony seat, I pulled the shoebox over to me. I carefully removed the lid, as if the shoes were a precious hidden jewel unearthed during an archeological dig. After removing a few pieces of tissue, I finally unveiled them.

Inside the shoebox sat a pair of sandals. They were thin-soled with tan on the bottom and a silver cushioned lining on top. Three thin white straps crisscrossed over, forming the shoe's upper. Another thin white strap went over the heel and wrapped around the ankle, closing with a small silver buckle. The small one and a half inch kitten heel added just the right amount of maturity and femininity to complete the look.

The shoes were absolutely adorable, and like always I couldn't wait to put them on. I kicked my slippers off, as I removed the left sandal from the box. After a bit of fidgeting with the ankle strap, I managed to get it open. I placed the sandal on the floor, and slipped my foot into it. With a bit more fidgeting I managed to get it buckled onto my foot. Then I repeated the process for the right sandal, before I sat back and kicked my feet out to look at them.

They fit perfectly, and looked amazing. My feet looked entirely feminine in them with my shocking pink nails, and the softness given to them from the pedicure. I started to wonder what Nathan would think of my feet now. He seemed to be into them the other day. Then I started to wonder why I instantly thought of Nathan. What about Tiffany? She would go crazy if she saw them.

"Everything going okay in there?" Melanie asked from behind the door.

"Yes," I said. "I'll just be a moment longer."

I knew she was probably dying to see me in the dress. I could picture her bouncing like a little kid who had to pee. It seemed cruel to keep her waiting, so I pulled myself away from staring at my new sandals, and stood up in them. After tugging the belt loose from my robe, I let it slide from my body onto the ottoman. I found my bra, hanging in the closet, was the only thing remaining of the clothes I arrived in. I slipped it on and walked over to the dress.

All things considered, the dress looked absolutely beautiful. It looked like my mother spent a fortune, not just on the outfit, but the entire day. I noticed shades of pinks in the pansies, so I knew my nails would go with it. Thinking of my nails caused me to look at my hands. Their smoothness and the way the nails were shaped screamed girl before the pink polish became a factor.

This only made me think about the conversation with the nail technician Tonya. She claimed guys would be wanting me to touch them with these hands. The first guy that jumped into my mind happened to be Nathan again. I knew from Tuesday he couldn't wait to touch me. Touching him scared me away from the thought. Obviously there were some issues I needed to discuss with him.

I reached up and pulled the dress from the hanger. While I examined and felt the material, I found a slim little zipper on the right side of the dress. I pulled it down. It opened it up enough to be slipped on over my head and shoulders. As the dress came down over my body, it felt so light and dainty. I suddenly got a giddy feeling all over, the feeling I now got every time I tried on some new feminine attire.

In one motion, I pulled the zipper up and opened the door. Melanie burst in, closing the door behind her. She appeared to be beside herself as she fawned over the dress. I stumbled over in front of the vanity, as she pulled me over and stood behind me. She tugged at the straps of the dress until they were tight. Then to my surprise she reached around me and started squeezing and adjusting my bra beneath the dress.

"Oh relax," she said. "It's not like they're real." She looked at me in the mirror and raised her left eyebrow. "Though it's a good thing you act like they are." Her hands continued to grope my chest. "It's instinctively girly." Finally she removed her hands and pulled out the stool from under the vanity. "Have a seat, and we'll do your makeup."

"Makeup?" I asked, sitting down on the stool.

"No no!" she said. "Not like that!" She reached over and locked the door to the room.

"What?"

"Like this."

Her hand wrapped around my arm, quite firmly, as she yanked me up from the stool. She pulled me back from the stool and turned me to face her. After making sure she had my attention, she reached back with her left hand and smoothed the back of her skirt. Then she eased herself down onto the stool. The move appeared quite graceful. She waited a moment before standing back up and stepping away.

"Try to keep your knees together," she said. "Be fluid, and just ease yourself into it." She stood to face me. "Think graceful."

I stepped over to the stool and turned to face Melanie. She appeared to be the most serious she had been all day. I reached my left hand behind me, and cautiously smoothed the skirt of my dress. As I lowered my bottom to the chair, Melanie motioned to be less rigid at my knees. I followed her advice, and found myself moving quite gracefully onto the seat.

"That was pretty good," Melanie said. "Do it again." She took my wrists and pulled me gently from the stool. "This time relax, and try to make it more natural."

I tried it again, following her advice.

"Don't think about it," she said, pulling me up again. "It should be something you just do by instinct." She smiled pleasantly. "Like being offended by someone touching your breasts."

After several more attempts, Melanie finally thought I got it. At least I was close enough to not look absurd doing it. She stood me up again, and walked me over to the closet on the other side of the room. Then she stepped over to the side. I looked at her, wondering what was next. It didn't take long for me to find out.

"Now, without even thinking about it," she said. "I want you to walk over to the stool and sit like I showed you."

I started to stroll over to the stool, but before I got past the ottoman Melanie stopped me. She rushed over between me and the vanity.

"Oh dear…" She pulled me over to the mirror. "You need to work on your walk." She looked around me into the mirror. "Didn't Kate or Tiffany show you how to walk?" Her brow furrowed. "Or stand, for that matter?"

"No," I said. "It's all been for fun." I felt like I had to defend myself for some reason.

"Well if you want to dress for fun, that's fine," she said. "But since you've been going out in public, you should work on at least the basics."

"The basics?"

"Yes," she said. "Like your posture. You will find it a lot easier to walk like a girl if you work on your posture. First…" She reached around to my chest again. "Keep your chest up and your shoulders back." She started to adjust my posture. "Keep your chin up, and use your abs to support your back and upper body."

I let a bit of sarcasm overtake me. "You're really serious about this girl schooling aren't you?"

Melanie dropped her hands from me. "Do you want to learn, or not?"

I detected a bit of disappointment in her voice. "I do," I said. "I'm sorry."

"Chin up," she said, slapping at it gently with the back of her hand. "Eyes forward." She moved her hands down to my waist. "Now this is more important for higher heels, but since you're wearing heels you might as well get used to it." She gently moved my hips back, and up. "You want to adjust your pelvic tilt when you're wearing heels, to change your center of gravity."

"How do you know all of this?" I asked.

"Let's just say my mother taught me right," she said. "I'm also really interested in fashion. I want to be a model some day."

"Well you certainly have the look for it," I said.

I could tell she was blushing now. "Thanks." She saw me looking at her in the mirror. "Eyes forward!" She turned me around to face the closet. "Now I want you to walk over to the closet, keeping your knees loose and stepping heel to toe." She backed over to the doorway of the bathroom. "Try to keep your posture."

I did as she asked, stepping lightly over to the closet.

"Relax more," she said. "Keep your posture, but relax and be fluid. Stroll back to the door."

Again, I strolled across the room, trying to relax as much as possible.

"Again. Take smaller steps," she said. "Pretend you're walking on a line, and keep the inside of your foot on that line with each step." She waited until I reached the closet. "Let your bottom roll with each step, it'll make your hips have that sway in them guys drool over."

"But I'm not into guys," I said, as I strolled over to the door.

"I don't care," Melanie said. "You're going to walk like you are. Now again. Maintain your posture and this time relax your arms at the elbows."

I continued to walk back and forth across the room. Melanie gave me advice with each turn. She even showed me how to turn. By the time I reached the closet the last time, I felt like I'd been working on walking for an hour. Melanie checked her watch, apparently thinking the same thing, then walked crisply over to the vanity.

"You'll have to work on it in your spare time," she said. "I don't think you can perfect your walk in ten minutes." She stood next to the vanity facing me. "Now, walk over here and sit like I showed you."

Without giving it much thought, I waltzed over to the stool. Casually I stepped in front of the stool, reached back to smooth the skirt of my dress, and eased down onto the stool. Melanie clapped quietly a few times. She came over behind me and smiled at me in the mirror. Then she put her hands lightly on my bare shoulders.

"Not bad," she said. "Not bad at all." She walked over to get a small gift bag from the counter. "Now in your spare time I want you to work on your walk and sitting the rest of the summer. Wear a skirt with heels when you do." She came back over to the vanity. "Remember when you sit, even though you don't like boys, boys love to sneak a peak up a girl's skirt." She pulled a compact of light pink blush out of the bag and opened it. "So keep your thighs together as you sit, and when you change positions."

Melanie turned the stool around to face her. She lowered herself down as she stooped over me with the blush. In a matter of seconds she had applied a light amount of blush to my cheeks. She closed the compact and put it back in the bag. Then she pulled out a tube of carnation pink lipstick. I watched her pop the cap off and spin the lipstick up out of the tube.

"Speaking of that," Melanie said. "Take this knee." She tapped my right knee. "And cross it over the other." She started to apply the lipstick to my lips. "Remember to keep your thighs together."

I followed her instructions perfectly, and she seemed very pleased.

"Now switch them." Melanie paused with the lipstick application to watch me. "Good!" She pulled a tissue from a box on the vanity and had me blot. "Switch a few more times to get used to it." She stood back to watch me. "You do pretty well with that." She came back with the lipstick. "I want you to work on your posture at home. Even guys should sit up straight."

"Okay," I said. "This is a lot to remember."

"You'll get used to it in no time," she said. "Just remember to sit and stand up straight, but be fluid and graceful in your movements." She held my chin firmly and lifted it so I faced her. "I want you to take this seriously and practice the rest of the summer. That way we won't have to waste much time teaching it when school starts." She raised her eyebrow. "Okay?"

"Got it," I said, a bit scared to say no to her.

"Good!" Melanie said, as she reached into the bag once more and brought out a small bottle of ck one. "Your new scent."

She winked at me. Then she dabbed the citrusy fragrance on my wrists, the backs of my knees, and behind my ears. The smell filled the immediate area, but wasn't overbearing. She dropped the lipstick and ck one into the gift bag, and handed it to me. Then she slipped a cute braided pink bracelet onto my left wrist, and stood up in front of me. A pleasant smile spread across her face.

"You're so cute," she said. "Your mom is going to flip."

"I was kind of getting scared she left me here," I said with a chuckle.

"No," Melanie said. "She got a massage a little while ago, and has been waiting out in the reception area for you." She checked her watch again. "Which reminds me… You better get going. Don't want to be late."

"Late?" I asked, rising from the stool.

"She got tickets to a local play," Melanie said. "I think you'll like it."

"So I'm all dressed up and actually have a place to go?"

"Exactly," Melanie said. "I'll be seeing you around Bailey."

"Thanks for everything," I said.

"Work on what I showed you."

"I will."

With that said, Melanie opened the door and let me slip out of the room. A small walk later, I stood in front of the door to the reception area. My knees trembled a bit as my hand wrapped around the handle. I was scared to let my mother see me like this. What if she liked it so much she wanted to keep me as a girl? I knew deep down it was my decision, but something told me I had already made the decision.

I kept in mind the fact that I had chosen my own hairstyle. Her choice was a bit more conservative, and could've been fixed easily. My current hairstyle would either have to grow out, or be cut pretty short to start school. The door handle turned in my hand. I took a deep breath, and pulled the door open.

My mother, pretending to be engrossed in a magazine, slapped it down on the table when I stepped through the door. She recognized me, but had to do a double take. With the combined speed and agility of a cat, my mother bolted toward me. As she gushed over my new appearance, Linda, the receptionist, sat smiling at me with her forearms resting against the desk.

"Well it looks like you're pleased with the results Misses Walker," Linda said.

"Very much so," my mother said. "Though I didn't expect Pam to go so feminine with the hairstyle."

"That…" I glanced at Linda and then back at my mother. "I asked her to do this."

"Oh," my mother said. "I see." She played with my hair a little. "Well it looks darling."

"It sure does," Linda said. "Did you enjoy your visit here Bailey?"

"I really did," I said, looking at Linda.

"Well you're welcome to come back anytime," Linda said. "The other ladies really enjoyed having you."

"Thank you," I said. "And tell them all thank you for me."

"I'll do that," Linda said.

"Well I'd love to stay and chat," my mother said, "but we have a matinee to get to down the street."

"You ladies have a good day," Linda said. "Enjoy your play, and thanks for choosing Oasis Day Spa."

"Take care," my mother said.

"Goodbye," I said.

The warm summer sun greeted us as we exited the spa. Already past its peak in the sky, I could tell the time was somewhere in the early afternoon. My mother reached toward me with a pair of sunglasses in her hand. I took them and examined them briefly. They looked like cheap drugstore sunglasses, with white plastic frames. I knew they were solely bought to go with my outfit. My mother smiled at me while I slipped them on.

"They really did an amazing job," she said. "If I didn't know what I was looking for, I wouldn't have recognized you."

"I really look that different?"

"Honey…" She put her hand on my shoulder. "You could honestly go to school like that, and people would think you were the new girl in town."

"I've actually been thinking about that," I said.

"Well tell me about it while we walk."

We set off down the sidewalk of Broadway. I held my chin up, and remembered to keep my posture as we walked. Even with the short lesson from Melanie, I felt I could walk down the street confidently in my low heels. My mother's business casual apparel made it so I didn't stand out like a sore thumb. However, my youthfulness, and the appeal of my outfit caused plenty of young men to take a look at me. I couldn't help but get absorbed in the attention, and soon found myself smiling at some of them.

"Bailey?" My mother snapped me back into the conversation. "What did you want to say about school?"

"Oh…" I glanced around, making sure nobody was within earshot. "I was wondering if maybe I could go to school as Bailey?"

"Honey you will be Bailey when school starts," she said. "Remember we changed your name?"

"I mean…" I stopped to lower my voice. "As a girl?"

My mother shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?"

"It will take a lot more than an outfit and a name change," she said. When I didn't respond she continued. "There's just too much involved in that sort of…" She took a breath. "I like that you're exploring this Bailey, but I'd like you to stay my son."

That certainly confused the hell out of me. This whole time I thought she was the one pushing for me to become her daughter. Now it felt like she was playing games with me. It was like giving a kid a taste of cake and then pulling it away from them. She wanted me to experience being a girl, but didn't want me to be one. What did she want?

"What do you want?" I said, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. "Do you just want another toy to dress up like you used to do with your brother? What is it? Really?"

"What?" My mother looked shocked. "No! That's not it at all." She glanced around. "I don't think this is the proper place to discuss it either."

"I need to know," I said, lowering my voice.

"I just wanted you to have a day," she said. "Something fun."

"And realize I like it, then have it taken away?"

"I'm not taking anything away," she said. "We can do this again."

"Just not every day?"

"Look, I'll make you a deal." She put her hands on my shoulders. "After high school you can do anything you want." Her eyebrows raised above the frames of her sunglasses. "Does that sound fair?"

"Can I still dress until then?"

"You can express yourself within reasonable limits," my mother said. "However, you're entering a stage in your life where many of your peers are going to be increasingly less accepting of certain things." She took her hands from my shoulders and straightened up. "Just fair warning. I want to see you happy, but I don't want to see you get hurt. That's why I suggested it be an after school activity."

"I understand…"

"Well don't look so disappointed," my mother said. "We still have the summers and weekends."

She smiled at me, and I had to smile back. I guess it was a small victory. At least now I knew my mother's motives for sure. For now, she only wanted a part-time daughter. I could live with that for the moment. My brother's motives were easy. He was too young to care. Now I just had to figure out Tom's motives.

As we turned to move up the street again, I fell naturally back into my walk. My heels now clacked almost in rhythm with my mother's heels. The skirt of my dress felt so sensual with the lace trim swishing against my thighs. I could feel my hips sway with each small step. The sun felt amazing and warm on my bare skin, while boys' stares gave me all the confidence in the world. I could enjoy the day again.

We continued to walk up Broadway to an old community theater. It had been there for decades, but I'd never been to a play there. The play we took in happened to be Barefoot in the Park. Though the name didn't live up to my expectations of what it was about, I enjoyed it nonetheless. The actors and actresses were amazing, and made me appreciate the theater at a young age. Most importantly, it gave my mom and I something to talk about on the way home, other than the usual banter about my issues.

It so happened, I couldn't wait to tell Tiffany about my day. I found myself on the phone not even ten minutes after my mother and I got home. We ended up gushing over the events like two tweenage girls. She seemed more excited about my new hairstyle than anything, and couldn't wait to see it. As I continued to talk to her, I could hear my mom talking with Tom. So I crept closer to the door to see if I could hear what they were talking about.

"He actually said he wanted to go to school as a girl?" Tom asked.

"Yes," mom said. "I felt so bad saying no to him, but I don't think he could handle it."

"I say let him dress as a little girl for school," Tom said. "An ass-kicking or two from his classmates will help him decide if he wants to go on with it."

"You know that's not funny Tom," my mother said.

"It's not meant to be," Tom said. "He needs to realize there's a world out there ready to kick the ass of anyone who's different."

"Is he that different in the scheme of things?" my mother asked.

"Maybe one day you'll both wake up and realize it, but until then…" Tom paused for a moment before continuing. "I say we wait to see. Girl… or boy… We'll just have to see."

"Is that okay?" Tiffany's voice blared through the phone.

"What?" I asked.

"Can you sleep over at her house?" Tiffany asked.

"Uh…" I stepped back into my room. "No, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Tom doesn't want me spending the night," I said. "For obvious reasons. Guy. Girl."

"Oh…" Tiffany sounded disappointed on the other end. "I guess that's understandable. But you can still come right?"

"Yes," I said. "I'll just have to leave early."

"Great!" Tiffany said. "It's nothing formal, but I would love to see you in a dress."

"I could do that," I said.

"And heels!" Tiffany said, as if it were an afterthought. "Sandals would be so cute."

"I'll see what I can do," I said. "For you."

"I love you Bailey," she said, my name change obviously not a big burden in her mind. "Can't wait to see you at Tracy's party."

"I love you too," I said. "See you there."

"Bye bye," she said, hanging up the phone.

I walked over and hung the phone up. My mind was still on the conversation Tom and my mother were having. However, when I got off the phone I couldn't hear a sound from either of them. After a minute or two, I heard the front door close. I hurried to my window to see my mother getting in her car. As I watched her pull out of the driveway, Tom came and stood at my door.

"I have to admit," Tom said, waiting for me to spin around and face him. "You really pull it off."

"Where did mom go?" I asked.

"She went to get your brother," Tom said, walking over to my bed to sit down. "Come here. Let me look at you."

I stepped over to the middle of my room. Tom's eyes went up and down my body. With a little encouragement from him, I spun on my toes so he could see the whole outfit. As I turned to face him again, my dress swished back and forth over my thighs. His eyebrow raised as he looked over me once more.

"You know your mother used to model like that," Tom said. "It's been awhile, but…" He shook the thought from his head, and replaced it with a subtle smile. "You look… pretty."

"Thank you," I said.

The smile dropped from his face. "Why did you lie to me?" Tom asked.

"When?"

"At the table the other day, you said you didn't want to be a girl," Tom said. "Today you told your mother you wanted to go to school as a girl."

"I didn't lie," I said.

"That sounds like you want this fulltime," Tom said. "You lied to me."

He coaxed me toward him with his finger. I reluctantly stepped forward. Tom reached out and took hold of my arm, yanking me down toward him. As I fell across his lap, he put his left arm over my back to hold me down. Then he lifted the skirt of my dress up to my waist, exposing my white panties. I started to squirm when he rested the palm of his right hand on my bottom.

"I don't like being lied to," Tom said. He raised his right hand and brought it down with a firm smack on my bottom. "For this to work, we need to trust each other." He raised his hand again, only to bring it down firmly on my bottom once more. "Did you lie to me?"

"Yes…" I said, reluctantly.

Tom landed another few swats on my bottom. "Do you want to be a girl?"

"No," I said.

Tom swatted me several times. "Do you want to be a girl?"

"Yes," I choked out. Tears began to form in my eyes.

"Then don't ever lie to me about it."

He continued to swat me until I squirmed beneath his left arm. When I started to kick my feet, he ceased with the spanking. Tears rolled down my cheeks, but I didn't sob. Tom pulled me back up and helped me stand. He even helped me fix the skirt of my dress. I never felt so humiliated.

"That's how little girls get spanked," Tom said. "Don't ever lie to me again, or you'll be seeing a lot more of it."

I nodded. He stood up, and kissed me lightly on the forehead. Then he wiped the tears from my cheeks, before leaving my room. Now I would remember that day for another reason. I'd never been spanked like that before. They were usually the "bend over" type. That was my first of many over-the-knee spankings.

From that moment on, whenever I got into trouble with Tom, I received a sound spanking. I think he even went out of his way to make them memorable. It seemed like he set aside time to do them, to make them sink in. No matter what I was wearing, it was either pulled up or down to reveal my panties. This was a final act of humiliation he used to make sure I never forgot.

I did forget. I'd eventually slip up time and time again. By the end of the summer, my mother eventually took up the act in Tom's absence. Sometimes she even employed a hairbrush if it happened to be on hand. Eventually the hairbrush became a staple, as it took fewer swats with it to get the point across. Justin, on the other hand, still got the classic spanking with the belt. Though I knew the belt was painful, it never instilled the humiliation I felt being over someone's knees in my panties.

There were other forms of correction as well. For instance, in the week leading up to Tracy's party, my mother took note of all my actions. If I acted out of the perceived norm of a girl, while I was a girl, she would have me work on it before bed. She claimed it would help me to fit in better if it started to become second nature. I couldn't disagree on that fact with her, however, I saw myself being more feminine than even the girls I knew. At least the girls my age were still somewhat boyish at that age.

Yet my mother had me work on it all anyway. I chose to spend the week as a girl, to stay in character so to speak. My mother, on the other hand, chose my outfits for the week. All week I wore skirts and heels, to help get me ready for Friday. Not only did I get the practice of walking in heels all day, but my mother also had me walk in them for her before bed. If I sat the wrong way in a skirt, she would have me practice sitting in a skirt before bed. This particularly came in handy when I arrived at Tracy's party in a dress.

I navigated Tracy's front stairs like I had been walking all summer long on the two inch tapered heels of my black, strappy, sling back sandals. After waving my mother off, I turned back to the door and pushed my pink-tipped index finger against the doorbell. I stood up straight, and held Tracy's present out in front of me. Inside I could hear the voices of several girls. The door swung open.

"Hello," Mrs. Young said, as she opened the storm door. "Bailey, right?"

"Yes," I said. "Hi Misses Young."

"Well come on in," she said. "And I keep telling you girls to call me Betty."

"I'm sorry," I said, walking past her into the house. "I'm just not used to --"

"Bailey!" Tiffany's voice could have woken the dead. "I told you she'd make it!"

Betty quickly took Tracy's present from me, before Tiffany crashed into me. She threw her arms around me, nearly knocking me over back through the door. Her nose brushed my ear. I could hear her inhale softly. She seemed to linger there for a moment.

"What is that?" Tiffany asked with a whisper.

"Ck one," I whispered back.

"I love it," she said in a breathy voice.

When she broke the embrace, her arms slid down my arms to take my hands. She rocked our hands in and out, and gave me a smile. Her hazel eyes moved up and down my body. They stopped at my hair.

"I absolutely love what you did with your hair," she said. "It's so daring!"

"Yeah," Tracy said, coming to greet me. "Tiffany said you changed it, but wow…" She started playing with the wavy layers, along with Tiffany. "You didn't have to get all dressed up though."

"I think her dress is cute," Tiffany said. "Love the corset look." Her hand ran over the smooth, black, cotton and spandex front of my dress, before dropping to play with the gray and black plaid bottom. "And the tiered skirt… really cute."

"I hope it's not to uncomfortable," Tracy said. "We're gonna be kinda lounging around and watching movies."

"Thankfully it's not a real corset," I said with a smile.

Tracy smiled at me, letting her eyes roam down my legs. "I like the shoes," Tracy said. "I don't know how some of you do it, but I'd kill myself walking in heels."

"You've never worn heels?" I asked.

"Never have," Tracy said. "Never will." She walked away to join her mother.

"But you're going to wear yours the rest of the night," Tiffany said to me. "Right?"

"If that's what you want," I said.

She hugged me again. "I can't believe you went so…" Tiffany lowered her voice. "So girl on me."

"You don't like it?" I asked.

She broke the hug. "Are you kidding?" Tiffany said, nearly whispering. "I love it! What about your stepfather though?"

"He gave up on me I think," I said. "He just started treating me like a girl, and told me I could do whatever."

"And you believe him?" Tiffany asked.

"Am I not supposed to?"

Tiffany shrugged. "It just seems kind of weird to me that he changed his mind so fast."

"I guess he had to come to grips with it?"

"That wasn't too expensive was it?" Tiffany said, playing with the straps of my dress.

"Not really," I said. "Why?"

"We're having ice cream," she said. "Don't want it to get ruined."

"Oh it's fine." I lowered my voice a bit. "I'm just so happy to see you again."

Tiffany smiled. She put her arm in mine, and walked me into the living room. There were four other girls in the living room. I knew two of them vaguely from school, but the other two must have been Tracy's friends from another school. In the middle of all four of the girls, was Tracy's younger brother, Kale, desperately trying to get attention from each one of them.

"Everyone," Tiffany said. "This is Bailey."

I raised my hand to wave. "Hi girls."

Kale froze in his tracks and stared at me. "You're pretty," he said.

"Kale!" Tracy stormed into the room. "I told you, you could stay in here if you didn't bug us."

"Oh, he's not bugging us," Tiffany said. She walked over and stooped down in front of Kale. "You really think she's pretty?"

Kale nodded, unable to look away from me.

"I do too," Tiffany said.

Kale turned to face her. "But you're a girl."

"Well girls can think other girls are pretty," Tiffany said, looking at me with a smile. "Why don't you introduce pretty Bailey to everyone here?"

Kale's head continued to bob up and down. He calmly walked over to me and held his hand out. I offered my hand, and he took it and led me into the midst of the other girls. Before he introduced me to anyone, I turned to see Tiffany walking out of the room with Tracy. She turned to smile at me before disappearing into the hallway.

"This is Megan," Kale said. "Though she likes to be called Meg."

"Hi Bailey," Megan said.

Megan I had never seen before, but she was a cute girl of Asian descent. She had a short, black pixie cut on top of her oval face, with warm light brown almond-shaped eyes. Somewhere she had discarded her shoes, and I could tell she had on nude hose. Her frame was about the same as mine and Tiffany's, and her pale pink dress fit her perfectly from the thin spaghetti straps to the hem at her knees. I also noticed she was the only other girl who wore a dress tonight.

"Nice to meet you Meg," I said, shaking her delicate hand gently.

"Tawny," Kale said.

I took Tawny's hand. Her old dark blue polish was chipped and missing in spots. This reminded me of Tonya's statement about how you could tell a lady by the way she took care of her hands. Though there seemed to be a lady hidden somewhere underneath that straight, black bob cut, Tawny didn't present it much at all. She happened to be the most boyish of the group, hiding her thin frame with a black Korn t-shirt, and baggy jeans. Yet underneath it all, I could tell she was just as pretty and feminine as the rest of the girls there.

"What's up?" Tawny said, giving my hand a firm shake.

"Danielle," Kale said.

"Danielle," I said, with a smile.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" Danielle asked.

To be honest, I knew Danielle. I didn't know her well, but we had the same fourth grade teacher. Her too-thin-to-stand-in-the-wind frame was unmistakable, especially with the long ponytail of straight blonde hair, which came to the middle of her back. I don't think she ever had a haircut since kindergarten. We used to call her Rapunzel. My head shook from side to side, as I looked into her large pale green eyes, which always seemed to be smiling.

"You look so familiar," Danielle said.

"He does!" the fourth girl said from beside me. "I'm Vanessa." She held her hand out.

"Excuse me!" Kale said. "I was doing the introductions."

"Kale!" Tracy said from behind me. "Go help mom in the kitchen."

Vanessa happened to be the other girl I knew, though less than I wanted to personally. Her orange crop top and short jean shorts covered very little of her flawless caramel colored skin. She started budding early and was on her way to becoming a young Tyra Banks. Vanessa even had the poise and structure to be a model, and ended up pursuing that career after high school. Without any competition, she had to be the most beautiful girl in the room.

"I swear I know you from somewhere," Vanessa said, still holding onto my hand.

Her coffee-colored eyes stared deeply into mine. I watched her face contort into one filled with mystery and then like it was trying to figure out the meaning of life. The awkwardness of the situation filled me momentarily with regret at having come to the party. In all honesty, I never wanted to in the first place. Tom, along with my mother, persuaded me into coming, thinking it would be a good idea.

"I don't think we've met," I said.

"No," Vanessa said. "You actually look like a boy I knew in school." She shook her head. "But your hands are too smooth and soft to be a boy."

"Because I'm not?" I could hear the other girls start to snicker.

Suddenly it appeared a light bulb went off somewhere in Vanessa's head. "Zach?" She asked quietly. "Zachary Walker?!"

"I…" My lips quivered.

I was found out! How in the world did she know? My mother didn't even recognize me the first time I dressed. She even claimed she wouldn't have recognized me Saturday, had she not known before hand. Yet somehow Vanessa knew. A girl I hadn't seen for over a year knew I was a boy. How?

"Relax!" Tiffany burst out laughing from behind me. "She knew before you got here."

"Your lips even shook like a little girl," Tawny said, from the couch.

Vanessa laughed out. "I so had you going!"

"That wasn't funny," I said, dropping her hand. "Why did you tell them?" I asked, turning to Tiffany.

"I had to," Tiffany said.

"It was my fault really," Tracy said. "I had to know why two girls disappeared into my pool shower for half an hour."

"Ooh," Danielle said, now standing to get more involved in the conversation. "I have to hear about this!"

"It was nothing," Tiffany said. "Really!"

"Besides," I said. "A girl doesn't kiss and tell."

"So you were kissing?" Danielle asked, running her finger down my bare arm.

"Bailey!" Tiffany said, her face showing concern and shock at the same time.

"I probably should stop there," I said. Then I turned to face Tracy. "Who all knows?"

"Just us here," Tracy said. "My mom knows too, but my dad and Kale don't know."

"What about Rebecca?" I asked.

"Not unless Kate told her," Tiffany said. "Though they do talk about everything."

Tawny and Megan remained on the couch. Their heads bobbed back and forth, taking in the whole conversation. Eventually Tawny focused more on me, stealing glances while she thought I wasn't looking. Megan slowly withdrew her attention from the conversation. Her actions told me she happened to be on the shy side. I could tell she was one of those who liked to be around people, but just kind of blended in with everyone.

"Girls!" Betty said from the kitchen. "Come get some ice cream!"

"I wish you would've told me," I said to Tiffany.

"You're not mad are you?" Tiffany asked.

"A little," I said. "The whole point of me doing this is for people not to know." I shook my head. "You're going around telling everyone."

"You're right," Tiffany said. "I'm sorry. I keep letting it slip."

"Well eventually you're going to let it slip to the wrong person," I said.

"For what it's worth," Tawny said, standing up from the couch. "Everyone here is cool with it. Even Tracy's mom." She helped Megan stand up. "You actually make a cute girl."

"You really do," Megan said quietly.

"Thanks," I said, watching them slip into the kitchen. I turned my attention back to Tiffany. "Promise me you won't do this again without telling me first?"

"I promise," Tiffany said. "I'm sorry."

"I forgive you," I said, embracing her in a sincere hug.

"Why don't you two kiss and make up?" Danielle asked.

I turned to see Danielle watch us intently with a sly grin upon her face. Pretty soon Tracy grabbed her and pulled her off to the kitchen. This left Tiffany and I alone with Vanessa in the living room. I broke our embrace, and let Tiffany go on ahead of me into the kitchen. Vanessa waited a moment until she crossed into the other room. Then I felt her hand reach out and grab my upper arm gently. She leaned in closer to me.

"I always though you were cute," Vanessa said. "Now I think you're even cuter."

A moment of boldness took me over. "I always thought you were pretty," I said. "One of the prettiest girls in school actually."

"You're so sweet," Vanessa said. "I think you would've given me a run for my money though."

"Girls?" Betty said from the doorway. "You coming?"

"Of course," Vanessa said, putting her arm in mine to walk me to the kitchen.

If you have never seen twelve and thirteen year old girls dig into ice cream, I could never paint a picture of the sheer chaos which transpired that night. The ice cream ranged from plain vanilla to fudge brownie. There were cans of whipped topping, assorted toppings from chocolate chips to sprinkles. You had to be bold to stick your arm in there for something. Mrs. Young had a hard time trying to clean up after us, and just gave up until the end.

I settled on a bowl of plain vanilla. Where I indulged was the toppings. Before long I had adorned my ice cream with chocolate sprinkles, tiny little chips of chocolate and that topping that turns hard when it sets. I had just stepped over to put some whipped topping over my masterpiece, when Vanessa walked up beside me. Tiffany strolled over to my other side, making me feel a bit nervous. Had they talked?

"You are so lucky," Vanessa said to Tiffany, under the loud talk of the other girls. "Bailey is the cutest thing."

"Well she's mine," Tiffany said. "So keep your little paws off."

"Relax!" Vanessa said, pulling herself back slightly. "You know I'm not interested in girls." She leaned in closer again. "Besides, you two make too cute a couple to break up."

"Thank you Vanessa," I said. I tried to hide my noticeable blush, and maintain some dignity by trying to get the conversation to stop. "I'm happy with Tiffany."

"I just can't believe you made her wear heels," Vanessa said.

"I don't make her wear them," Tiffany said. "She makes her own decisions. I just asked her nicely."

"Well you should ask her to more often," Vanessa said. "She looks killer in them." She put her hand on my arm and leaned even closer toward Tiffany. "Imagine if she wore them to school."

"That'll never happen," I said with my mouth full of ice cream.

"Honey," Tiffany said, putting her hand on my upper arm. "Don't talk with your mouth full."

"Just picture it," Vanessa said. "If she wore them every day to school, by the time she graduated she'd be so used to wearing them…" Vanessa looked at me and smiled. "She'd want to wear them all the time."

Tiffany looked at me. The conversation obviously got her thinking about it. I could tell by the half-dazed expression on her face. It was the look she got before we did our little role playing games. After a moment she shook her head. She turned her face back to look at Vanessa.

"Bailey's right," Tiffany said. "That'll never happen." She lowered her voice. "She has to go back to school as a boy. It would just be too complicated the other way."

"That's too bad," Tawny said, walking over to meet us. "I would've liked to see you go to school in something like that." Her eyes roamed my body.

"You want to see everyone in a dress, but yourself," Megan said, walking up behind Tawny.

"That's because only girly girls wear dresses," Tawny said, making Megan roll her eyes.

"What are we talking about?" Danielle said. She looked like a Barbie doll walking over toward us.

"We were talking about how cute it would be," Vanessa said, turning to Danielle. "If Bailey went to school as a girl."

"Aw," Danielle said. "You mean you don't want to?"

"It's not that I don't want to…" I looked past the girls surrounding me to prospect the rest of the room. "It just wouldn't be a good idea."

"You're probably right," Megan said. "It would be pretty hard to deal with."

"I can only imagine," Tawny said.

"My mother said I could do whatever when I graduate," I said.

"Well that's cool at least," Vanessa said.

"Really?" Tiffany asked. "You didn't tell me that."

"I'd say that makes you two even," Danielle said.

"What about after school?" Vanessa asked.

"I can dress after school and on weekends," I said.

"Cool!" Vanessa said. "Maybe you can hang with us as a girl every once in a while."

"Maybe," I said.

"That would be fun," Megan said, desperately trying to get a shy word into the conversation.

"We're going to start the movie soon," Tracy said from the kitchen doorway.

I stood beside Tiffany. We watched in silence as the other girls shuffled out of the kitchen. Mrs. Young, or Betty I should say, frantically went around cleaning. She didn't seem to be paying any attention to us, but I knew she wanted to eavesdrop. Tiffany waited for a little while, eating her ice cream and watching me eat mine.

"I wanna talk to you about something later," Tiffany said.

Her lips pressed against my cheek. They were cold and a bit sticky, but her kiss felt good. She brushed by me, and exited the kitchen. This left me alone with Betty. Before I could sneak off, Betty turned to face me. She dropped her hand, clenched around a mess of paper towels, down to her side.

"Everything okay?" Betty asked.

I nodded, unwilling at first to give up any information.

"You look a little concerned," she said.

"I've been through a lot this summer," I said.

"So I've heard," Betty said. "After Tiffany and Tracy told me about you…" She sighed. "Honestly I expected some boy to show up in drag, tripping around on his heels," Betty said. "I got to say, you really surprised me." She walked over closer to me. "You're darling."

"Thanks," I said quietly. A blush burned atop my cheeks.

"Then something dawned on me," Betty said. "You were at the pool party." She stepped even closer. "The pool party meant to be for all girls." Her eyebrows raised and she gave me a stern look.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Tiffany asked me to do it last minute. I didn't even know!"

"It's okay," Betty said, smiling. "You are a girl after all." She tossed the paper towels in the trash. "I'm going to let it slide for now." She looked me up and down. "I'm not going to forget though. You owe me! One for the pool party and another for this party."

"I'll make it up to you," I said. "I promise."

"You better!" Betty said. Then she broke into a smile. "I'm perfectly okay with you being a girl or a boy around here." She paused for a moment. "I'll just add it to your tab." She winked.

"Thanks Misses…" I caught myself. "Thanks Betty."

"Any time." Betty smiled at me again. "Go join the others."

I stepped out of the kitchen. My mind began circling around something I could do to make it up to Betty. Why did I promise? I didn't have a clue what she wanted, but maybe there was just an understanding now between us. As I came into the living room and saw Tiffany on the couch, I started to let it slip to the back of my mind. I sat on the end of the couch next to Tiffany, smoothing my skirt with my empty hand as I sat down. Before long the movie started, and I forgot all about my promise to Mrs. Young.

The first movie we watched was The Secret Garden. I suddenly noticed the resemblances between Tiffany and the lead actress. Not only did Tiffany look like her, but they also had the same playfulness about them. This little fact alone made me enjoy the movie a lot more. I started picturing Tiffany and I playing our little games in a secret garden. In the garden I could be Bailey, and nobody would care at all.

Tiffany finished off her ice cream, and moved closer to me. When I finished my ice cream, Tracy got up, before I could, and took our bowls to the kitchen. Eventually Tiffany put her head on my shoulder, and wrapped her arms around mine. I crossed my legs, like Melanie had shown me at the spa, with the right over the left toward her. Tiffany curled her legs beneath her, and put her left hand on my bare knee.

When Tracy came back in, the whole room shifted. Tracy sat on the other end of the couch, and Vanessa moved over to sit between her and Tiffany. Then Vanessa kicked her flip-flops off and swung her legs up onto Tiffany's lap. Her calves ended up in my lap, and her feet rested on the arm of the couch. I watched her ease her head down into Tracy's lap, then she turned to watch the movie.

At first I thought it was a little rude. It felt like Vanessa desperately made an effort to force herself into our private space. Then I saw Tracy was okay with it, as she started to run her hand through Vanessa's hair. Tiffany seemed okay with it too, as she had moved her left hand from my knee, to put it on Vanessa's left leg. After a minute or two, she started to move her hand up and down Vanessa's leg.

"Her legs are so smooth," Tiffany said quietly. "You should feel them."

Tiffany's blessing was all the motivation I needed. I moved my right hand up onto the side of Vanessa's left leg. Soon I had my hand sliding up and down her calf. Tiffany was right. Vanessa's legs were really smooth. Then Tiffany moved my left hand onto her own right thigh. She moved my hand up her inner thigh, until it brushed against her loose knit shorts.

"She's already shaving them," Tiffany said beside my ear. "Then she moisturizes twice a day." She turned her lips toward me even more. "They feel good don't they?"

I nodded.

"I started doing it too," Tiffany whispered. "Can you tell?"

"It feels nice," I said, trying not to draw any attention.

"I was thinking how sexy it would be if you started to do the same," Tiffany whispered, putting emphasis on the word sexy.

"I could try it," I said. "There isn't much to shave though."

"Do it anyway," Tiffany said. "For me."

"Okay," I said. My voice was barely audible. "I'll do it."

Tiffany licked my earlobe. "Thank you," she breathed into my ear. Then she gave me a kiss on the cheek and went back to watching the movie.

Before long I had my hands running over the legs of two girls. Tiffany stared straight ahead at the television screen. Each time I neared the hem of her shorts she would flinch. This caused me to retract my hand down her leg, and she would take a deep breath. Vanessa, after awhile, had closed her eyes, and was also breathing heavily. She opened her eyes every so often to check her surroundings, and would shut them again after a brief moment.

I surveyed the room for a moment. Kale and Danielle, who were sprawled out on the floor actually watching the movie, were oblivious to everything going on around them. In the oversized chair, to the left of the couch, Megan and Tawny were snuggled up closely. From the way they were situated, one could say Tawny took on the role of a boy, and Megan the role of a girl.

At first I thought Megan and Tawny were just acting overly friendly. Then I soon realized that didn't fit at all with the situation I witnessed. Megan shifted her legs over Tawny's lap, and let her head down to rest across Tawny's chest. She wrapped her arm around Tawny's midsection. Then Tawny lowered her lips to Megan's head and kissed her hair. I watched for a moment longer as Tawny started to caress Megan's nylon-clad legs.

"Don't Megan and Tawny make a cute couple?" Tiffany asked in a whisper near my ear.

Well that answered that question. I turned to whisper back. "Are they lesbians?"

"No silly," Tiffany said. "They're like us."

"What?" I really did not get what she said at first.

"You don't recognize Megan?" Tiffany asked.

I turned and looked at Megan. She did have certain familiar characteristics. I started to think I had seen her before, but I just couldn't place a finger on it. It dawned on me that I would need a little help on this one. Luckily Tiffany was prepared to help me out a little more. Though her hints were vague at best.

"She went to our school," Tiffany whispered.

"I'm gonna need a little more than that," I said.

"He was in our class last year, and fifth grade with you."

Then it hit me. I finally got what Tiffany had said about those two being like us. She just had to say it for me to know. Otherwise I wouldn't have figured it out at all. Megan was like me, another boy dressed up like a girl. She made one heck of a girl too from what I was looking at. Yet I still couldn't place her. I had to think for a moment, to think of her as a him.

"Brice…" Tiffany whispered.

"Brice Seong," I said, as his name finally came to me.

There was no way that was Brice. I couldn't picture him as his former self. In school he straddled the line between shy, quiet nerd and reclusive geek. He never actively sought friends, and I don't know if he ever had any in elementary school. As a girl he seemed to find plenty. Brice hadn't yet lost his shyness, but he looked happy where he was at, nestled up in the chair with Tawny.

"I can't believe it," I said. "He makes one cute girl."

"So do you," Tiffany said.

"What about them?" I asked, gesturing toward Tracy and Vanessa.

"What?" Tiffany asked.

"Are they a couple too?"

"Oh, no…" Tiffany held in a giggle. "They've just been friends forever." She leaned in closer. "Remind me to tell you something later."

"Okay…"

I looked back at Megan. What I now knew, I couldn't believe. Someone out there happened to be going through exactly what I was going through. Not only that, but we were in the same town, not hundreds of miles apart. I wanted to talk to Megan about everything that night, but I never got the opportunity. However, what I learned stuck with me the rest of the night.

I thought about all the things I could talk to Megan about during the ride home. There were hundreds of questions I had to ask her. In the car, my mother asked the usual questions about how the party went. I brushed them off with simple answers. At one point I told her I wished I could have stayed the night, as we were having so much fun. She reminded me of Tom's rule, and that was the end of that.

Even in bed that night, as I drifted off to sleep in my lavender pajamas, I still couldn't stop thinking about Megan. It wasn't that I liked her, so much as I liked what we had in common. Somehow, among the mass confusion swimming around in my head, I found the will to drift off to sleep. I didn't know how long I slept, but I woke up around three in the morning. From the other room I could hear Tom and my mother arguing.

For a moment I remained still in my bed. I couldn't make out what they were saying though. So I slipped out from under my sheets, and set my feet down softly upon the carpet. I sneaked over to my door, and opened it quietly. Now I could make out what they were saying. After listening for a little while, I realized their argument centered around me.

"You told me you would learn to accept it," my mother said. "After all of that --"

"I said to let things happen naturally," Tom interjected. "Instead you're dragging him to salons and letting him get his hair styled like…"

"Like a girl?"

"Have you seen him Susan?" There was a slight pause. "Not only have you pushed him over the top with your little schemes, but now he's even acting like a little girl. What's next?" Another pause. "Are you going to take his shoes away and force him to wear heels from now on?"

"You could be more supportive," my mother said.

"There's a huge difference between supportive," Tom said, "and pushing someone down the path you want them to go. Now you're influencing what he even wears from day to day."

"Like you did at first?"

"And I admit it was a mistake," Tom said. "It only made him want it more." Another pause filled the tense atmosphere. "Now look at him! He's walking like a girl now, even sitting like one. Before long he'll be doing it naturally, and then what? I bet he even sits down to --"

"And you're saying it's all my fault?"

"Maybe you should stop pushing him to be your little daughter," Tom said. "Maybe you should let things run there natural course."

"Maybe they already have," my mother said. "Maybe this is what he wants!"

"Maybe what I want is for people to stop fighting over what I want," I said, now standing in their doorway.

"Bailey…" My mother started to rush over to hug me.

"No!" I said, pushing her away.

For some reason I saw her as the enemy now. As horrible as it sounded in my mind, Tom was right. I realized my mother had been pushing me into this. Tiffany, Kate, and now my new "teacher" Melanie were all trying to push me into being a girl. Maybe it didn't seem like a bad thing to them at the time, but at my age I started to think more and more that it was a bad thing. Tom's line of thinking started to wedge its way into my brain. They both stared at me, waiting for me to talk.

"Maybe I do have a problem," I said.

"No, Bailey…" my mother said.

"Let him finish," Tom said.

"Tom is right," I said. "I have to do this the right way." I looked at the floor. "I can't pretend I'm something I'm not, without knowing what I am first. If I'm supposed to stay a boy…" I looked up at Tom. "Then so be it." Then I looked at my mother. "If I'm messed up somehow, and I'm supposed to be a girl…" I looked back at Tom. "Then the doctor will know what to do."

"I'm glad to see you're thinking about this all logically," Tom said.

"Are you saying you want to see the doctor?" my mother asked.

"I want to know the truth about all of this," I said.

"Then I'll take you to see Doctor Peterson next week," my mother said.

"No." I shook my head. "I want to see the specialist Tom told me about."

"You talked to a specialist?" my mother asked Tom.

"I felt something had to be done," Tom said. "He's the best in the area with this sort of knowledge."

"Fine," mom said. "I'll take him. When's the appointment?"

"Mom…" I looked at the floor again. "I kind of want Tom to handle this."

"That's silly. I'm your mother!"

"Sue," Tom said. "There might be some issues he'd feel more comfortable talking to another male about." He put his hand on her shoulder. "I'd like to handle this one."

"Oh…" My mother stepped back to sit on the bed. "Well if that's what you want."

"Thanks for understanding mom," I said.

Tom gave me a sincere look. "Why don't you run along back to bed?"

Back to bed I went. For at least half an hour I had a restless fit with my thoughts. I hope I didn't make the situation worse than it was, but for some reason I felt betrayed by my mother. After all, the clothes were her idea. The trip to the spa was her idea. I started to think even the parties and the female lessons with Melanie were her idea. Maybe she had some hidden desire, left over from dressing her brother up, to turn me into a girl.

Perhaps my mother had every woman in town involved. Then again, they all might've been on my side. I didn't know. However, what I did know, was that on Monday, Tom and I would be on the right track to figuring all of this out. I'm sure the doctor would know what was needed. With this slight peace of mind wrapping up all of my thoughts, I drifted off to sleep once more.

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To Be Continued...
 

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Part 7

The weekend between Tracy's party and my first visit to Doctor Dinesh's office, felt like the longest two days of the summer. Outside the doctor's office the weather felt hot and sticky. Inside it felt cold and uninviting. I didn't even get that stuffy feeling you get in most doctor's offices. As I sat in the waiting room, I thought I could even deal with sick people around me, if it would just get rid of the odd feeling I had.

Tom sat beside me, quietly filling out paperwork. He and my mother had kept me quite busy the whole weekend. I think it was partly to keep my mind off of this appointment. It also kept me from slipping back into my usual routine. Which was a good thing. I probably would have gone into normal mode and blown off the appointment. However, now I couldn't get rid of the anxiety welling up inside of me.

"You don't have any allergies do you?" Tom asked.

"None that I know of," I said.

He gave me a reassuring look, and went back to the paperwork. How little he actually knew about me. I didn't know if choosing Tom to take care of this was the right thing, but it felt better than having mom do it. For some reason I could picture my mother bringing her lovey-dovey approach to the situation, and end up doing things based on what she wanted. At the moment, I didn't believe she had my best interests at heart, but rather hers.

Tom on the other hand wanted to get to the bottom of it. He claimed he didn't care what the outcome was, he just wanted to know what the outcome would be. I watched him lean to the side and pull out his wallet from the right back pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a card and copied off some numbers from it onto the paper. I had to believe he was in this for the truth, rather than a hopeful wish.

"Do you think we'll know today?" I asked.

"I don't know," Tom said. "We'll just have to wait and see."

The secretary at the desk, a frail woman in her mid fifties, glanced up at us. She probably didn't have a lot to do, and seemed to be anxiously awaiting the paperwork. I looked at the television. The usual daytime talk show illuminated the screen. Boring! I looked down at the corner filled with toys. Six or so years ago, I would've been occupying my time with the train set or blocks, my mind a hundred miles from here. There were magazines, but mostly adult reading material.

I stared at the clock on the wall. Soon my mind was absorbed in the sound of each second ticking away. Tom scribbled away at the paperwork next to me. Before long a door opened across the sea of light blue carpet, and a young nurse stepped through. Her hair exploded in vibrant red curls from a band holding it tightly behind her head. The light blue scrubs she wore clung to what I could only imagine was a very fit body underneath.

"Bailey?" the nurse said, looking at me with her gorgeous hazel eyes.

"That's me," I said, having to reevaluate my name for a second.

"Well come on back sweetie," the nurse said. "Your stepfather can finish the paperwork."

I gave Tom a quick glance, but he only encouraged me to go on. Usually my mother would go back with me to see the doctor. I didn't really feel comfortable playing the adult now, but I guess Tom figured I could handle it. As I slipped from the chair and walked toward the nurse, I suddenly felt very self-conscious. She watched my every step, and smiled when I drew closer to her.

"My name's Jennifer," the nurse said, offering her hand. "Or you may call me Nurse Sweeny. Whichever makes you feel more comfortable."

I took her hand and shook it. She ushered me through the door and closed it behind us. As I stood there on the other side of the door, Jennifer did a quick assessment of me. She wrote some things down on a chart. Then she looked me over again, and wrote a little more. With pen in hand, she gestured toward some scales.

"We'll get you measured and weighed," Jennifer said. "Then you'll see Doctor Dinesh. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, a bit of nervousness lifting my voice.

"Shoes off," Jennifer said. "Then step up on the scales."

I kicked off my white mule sneakers. My mother had suggested I put on whatever would make me feel comfortable today. What made me feel comfortable happened to be female clothing. I didn't go overboard with it, but I clearly stepped out of the house looking like a young girl. If my clothing didn't give me away instantly, my flirty female hairstyle and bright pink nails did for sure.

"Do you always dress this way Bailey?" Jennifer asked. Her face was buried in her clipboard.

I wanted to lie, but the truth would only help me in the long run. "I've been dressing more and more lately."

"Is your wardrobe all feminine attire?" She looked up at me. "Or do you have boy things as well?"

"I have both." I watched her start to scribble at the paper. "But I haven't worn many boy things this month."

Jennifer looked up at me. She studied my face for a moment. Then she lowered her face to the clipboard and started to scribble away at it again. For a lengthy moment I stood there in silence as she wrote. Through my lightweight ankle socks, I could feel the cold steel of the scales under my feet. Finally Jennifer looked up at me.

"Do you feel comfortable with what you're wearing?" she asked.

I looked down at my jeans. They were the pair my mother had bought me, with the pink butterfly leaving a glittery trail of pink up the leg. Though they were a bit tight, they weren't horribly uncomfortable. The bright yellow top I picked out, hugged a bit, and the cap sleeves gave that feeling of wanting to pull them down for more coverage. As my eyes came back up to meet Jennifer's, I suddenly realized this probably wasn't at all what she was asking.

"I feel comfortable in girls' clothing," I said. "I usually wear skirts."

Jennifer went back to scribbling at the clipboard. "I meant the attire you had on at the moment," she said. "You seem a bit uncomfortable, but your answer was good." She looked up at me. "The more open and honest you are with your answers, the better we can find the right course of action for you."

"Well in that case," I said. "The jeans are a bit tight, and my arms are freezing. I'm a bit nervous too."

"It is a bit cold in here." Jennifer smiled at me. "The jeans are cute though," she said. "Where did you find them?" She reached behind me to mess with the measuring stick on the scales.

"My mother found them in a consignment shop," I said. "We both found quite a few things actually."

"Frugal and stylish," Jennifer said. "Smart girl." She paused with what she was doing to look at me. "Do you mind being called a girl?"

"It doesn't bother me," I said. "I'm kind of getting used to it."

"Okay," Jennifer said. "Thought I would ask. Some do. Some don't. It all depends." She went back to measuring me. "Four feet…" She leaned a bit closer to read the measurement. "Nine inches."

"Is that good or bad?" I asked.

"It's about average," Jennifer said. She glanced at me. "Try not to worry too much. You'll just stress yourself out." She started to play with the sliders on the scales. "Ninety three pounds." She pulled back to look me in the eyes. "Again, about average."

I could tell she was trying to get me to relax. Though this felt like any normal doctor visit so far, I knew it would take a drastic turn at some point. That was the part that made me nervous. Jennifer had me step down from the scales. She scribbled away at the clipboard as I slipped my shoes back on. When Jennifer finally finished jotting things down, she beckoned me to come with her to an examination room.

"Some of the questions Doctor Dinesh may ask will be very personal," Jennifer said, "but remember, the more open you are, the better." She stepped over to the examination table. "After I leave, we'd ask that you remove your top and bra, and put on this gown." She pointed at what looked like a folded up blue sheet on the table. "The opening goes in the back, if you've never worn one before." She stepped back over to the door. "This is just a routine physical, so don't be nervous. Okay?"

"I'll try," I said.

Jennifer gave me a reassuring smile, and then removed herself from the room. The door shut with a resounding click, giving the room an even colder feeling. I pulled my shirt off, and draped it across the examination table. As I fumbled with my bra, I looked around the room. There were the typical charts you would see in any examination room. However, there were other charts I had never seen before.

On one wall there was a chart of several different drawings of what appeared to be a penis, but in various stages of development. Next to that was another chart showing various stages of female reproductive organs, but some with a penis drawn on the model. Both of these charts boggled my mind. However, another chart stole my attention for what seemed like an hour. It had various words with definitions. Among those words were cross-dresser, transsexual, and transvestite.

I carefully read the definitions of several of the words. Mindlessly I pulled the examination gown from the table. As I fidgeted with the gown, I continued to read. My mind seemed on the verge of information overload. Somehow I managed to get the gown on as I read. By the time I had the laces tied at the small of my back, I heard a gentle knock on the door. The door scooted open slowly, and an Indian man, nearing his forties, walked into the room.

"Bailey?" the man asked, closing the door behind him.

"Hi," I said, nervously collecting my bra and shirt.

"I am Doctor Dinesh," the man said with a slight accent. "You may call me Rajan if you like." He gestured to the chair in the corner. "You may put your things over there."

I quickly tossed my belongings onto the chair. "Nice to meet you Rajan."

"Nice to meet you as well Bailey," Rajan said. "Could I ask you to please remove your shoes, socks and jeans as well?"

He noticed my hesitation, and turned to a counter in the room to write on a clipboard. After making sure he wouldn't turn back suddenly, I kicked my sneakers off and pushed them under the chair. Then I double-checked to make sure he wasn't looking again, and went to unfasten my jeans. I felt I had to be modest in front of him, even if he was a doctor. I slipped my jeans off and draped them across the chair. Rajan turned back around as I was putting my socks in the chair.

"Thank you Bailey," he said. "Have a seat on the table please."

He leaned over and pulled out a step from within the table. I walked to the foot of the table, and stepped up onto the step. Rajan flipped through sheets on his clipboard. When I turned to sit on the table, I instinctively smoothed the gown beneath me. Rajan glanced up from the clipboard at that moment, and then clicked his pen. He set about scribbling on the clipboard, before setting it down on the counter. Then he stepped over in front of me.

"Have you had any changes in appetite lately?" Rajan asked, putting his hands on my neck to feel my glands. "Eating less, or eating more?"

"Maybe eating a little less," I said.

"Uh huh," Rajan said. "Any pain, discomfort, dizziness or feelings of lightheadedness?"

"No."

Rajan pulled the gown down slightly and examined my neckline. "Are you experiencing any mood swings, or any bouts of depression?"

"I get sad sometimes," I said, "but not depressed."

He paused to look directly into my eyes. "Any thoughts of suicide?"

"No!" I said. "Not at all."

"Good," Rajan said. "Why don't you tell me about how you started dressing?"

As I told Rajan the events of the past month, he continued to examine me. He took up my left wrist, slowly and carefully looking up and down my arm, and then turned it to look at the other side. Then he repeated it with my right arm. He even closely examined my armpits. I continued to ramble on my account of the summer up to this point.

Next Rajan examined my left leg, all the way from mid-thigh down to my toes. When he reached my feet, he took extra care to check in between my toes along with my soles. He then repeated the process on my right leg. This all took several minutes. Every so often he would look up at me, reassuring me to continue with my account. The last thing he checked was the back of my neck and behind my ears.

"Lie back please," Rajan said, during a pause in my story.

I laid back on the table, and Rajan came over to my side. He started feeling around my abdomen, poking and prodding in various areas, as I continued the story. Before long he had me sit back up, and pulled out a small hammer and tested my reflexes. Then he went back to the chart and started jotting things down. A moment of silence filled the room.

"Please go on," Rajan said.

"That's all of it," I said.

"So you've been out several times as a girl in public?" Rajan asked, sitting on a stool to face me. "Including today?"

"About half of the summer so far," I said.

"I see…" Rajan scribbled something down. "Do you enjoy being a girl?"

"It's fun at times," I said. "But a lot of hard work to keep up with it all."

"I can imagine," Rajan said. "You do pretty well keeping up appearances."

He stood up and brought his stethoscope up to his ears. Then he stepped around behind me, and opened my gown slightly. In a few seconds I felt the cold end of the stethoscope on my back. Rajan did the routine check, making me breathe normally while moving the stethoscope to various spots. Then he pulled the gown off of my left shoulder and checked a few spots in the front.

I fixed my gown back as he stepped away. He returned a few seconds later and examined my ears. Then he checked my blood pressure and temperature. After a quick check of my throat, he discarded the tongue depressor and sat back on his stool. For several moments he wrote away on the clipboard. I was scared he was going to run out of paper before too long. This made me chuckle, and he caught it.

"Something funny?" Rajan asked.

"I was just thinking you're going to run out of room to write after awhile."

Rajan dropped his head and chuckled. "Well… we just want to see if you're healthy physically," he said. "And from the look of things, you're in pretty good shape." He put the clipboard in his lap and looked up at me. "But now I'm afraid I'm going to have to get a bit more personal with you."

"Okay," I said.

"Some of the things I'll ask might make you feel a bit uncomfortable," Rajan said. "If you would like, I can have your stepfather sit in for this part."

"I think that would make me more uncomfortable," I said.

"I understand," Rajan said. "I just want to reassure you that I'm a professional and a specialist in this field of medicine, but it appears that what you are dealing with is a gender identity disorder. Unfortunately this involves sexual organs, and at most times some embarrassing topics."

I swallowed hard. "I think I can handle it."

"All I ask is that you be open and honest," Rajan said. "If something makes you uncomfortable, let me know, and we can come back to it later when you're more comfortable."

"Okay."

Rajan pulled the clipboard up, and clicked his pen. "We'll start with some easy questions to help you feel more comfortable," Rajan said. "Do you enjoy the feelings associated with dressing as the opposite sex?"

"I like how the clothes feel."

Rajan nodded. "More than your male attire?"

"A lot more," I said. "Mostly I like the materials and the way some of them are lighter than my boy clothes."

"Do you feel vulnerable in the clothing?" Rajan asked.

"I do," I said. "Especially with skirts."

"That's understandable," Rajan said. "Do you like that feeling?"

I thought for a moment on this question. The questions were obviously aimed to get me thinking, and progressively get harder. Did I like the feeling of being vulnerable? I recalled Tom taking me over his knee, revealing his dominance over my vulnerability when he spanked me. Though I didn't like that at all, I did like the way Nathan took extra care to treat me with respect. Damn it! Why did I always come back to thinking about Nathan at times like this?

"I guess I like the way people treat me," I said.

"How do you mean?"

"Everything's more gentle," I said. "I never liked people being rough with me, and I never liked being rough to others. Some boys tend to show me more respect now."

Rajan wrote on his clipboard. "You don't get a lot of respect from other boys?"

"Not really," I said. "I haven't even talked to my male friends from school."

"Are you afraid of how they would react to the new you?"

"I don't think they'd like it," I said. "They'd probably beat me up or something."

"Do you think you could face them again, if it meant you'd be able to live as a girl?"

"I would definitely try," I said. "I just don't know how they'd take it."

"Do you have fantasies about boys coming to your rescue, or defending you in some way?"

"None that I can think of."

"Do you ever have thoughts of being with a boy?" Rajan asked.

"I…"

Rajan looked up from the clipboard. "This is strictly between you and I. Whatever you tell me won't leave this room."

"Just one," I said.

"What's his name?" Rajan asked, going back to writing.

"Nathan," I said. "He lives down the street from me."

"What is it you like about Nathan?" Rajan asked.

"He gets me," I said.

"Gets you?" Rajan looked up at me. "How so?"

"Like…" I looked at the floor. "He tries to involve me in things, even though he knows I'm different. It doesn't really change things between us." I looked back up to see Rajan nodding.

"So you've been around Nathan as a girl and boy, and it doesn't phase him?"

"No…" I said. "He's never seen me as a boy."

"But he knows you are a boy?" Rajan asked.

"Yes," I said. "I had to tell him."

"And after telling him, he still didn't see you as a boy?"

"I always dress as a girl when he comes over."

"Do you go out of your way to dress for him?" Rajan asked. "Do you want him to see you as a girl?"

"I guess so," I said. "In a way. I never really thought about it though. I just thought he'd be more comfortable seeing me as a girl, since he knew and didn't ever see me as a boy."

"Are you saying you were dressing to please him?" Rajan asked, looking up again from the clipboard.

"Maybe…" I said. "I think it was more out of convenience."

Rajan nodded, going back to the clipboard. "Do you find this boy attractive?"

The questions were starting to get more personal. I shifted on the examination table. The sound of rustling paper filled the room. Rajan looked up from his clipboard. I dropped my eyes, not wanting to look into his. He sat there quietly. It became increasingly obvious I would have to answer this eventually.

"Take your time," Rajan said.

I waited until he went back to his clipboard. "He's attractive," I said. "I can't deny that. But I don't think he's attracted to me."

"Do you think about him a lot?" Rajan asked.

I sighed. "I do. He seems to come up in everything."

"Everything?"

"I'll be doing something totally random, like watching TV," I said. "And I'll just think about what Nathan would think if he saw something that popped on." I paused. "Or like the other day when I was at the spa, I thought about how he would react if he saw me then."

"When was the last time you thought about him?" Rajan asked.

"When you asked me the question about feeling vulnerable," I said.

"Nathan makes you feel vulnerable?" Rajan asked.

"No," I said. "I don't know. Sort of?" I searched my thoughts for a moment. "He's the type of guy that would see me in a vulnerable spot, and take care not to crush it."

"You're saying he's the one that's gentle with you?" Rajan asked. "He treats you like a girl?"

"Yes."

"And you like this feeling?"

"Yes."

"Do you have sexual fantasies about Nathan?" Rajan asked. "Do you think about kissing him, or doing more than being friendly with him?"

Well now I will! I looked up at the ceiling. "None that I can recall."

"Are you sexually active?" Rajan asked, keeping his head down.

"I had…" I paused. "It was one time with my girlfriend."

"Oh," Rajan said. "Were you dressed during this experience with your girlfriend?"

"Yes," I said.

"Is this the same girl you mentioned earlier?" Rajan asked. "The one that helped you dress the first time?"

"Yes," I said. "She's the same one."

"You mentioned she likes you being a girl," Rajan said. "You don't dress solely for her approval do you?"

"No," I said. "I mean, I would dress if she asked me to, obviously I did the first time, but I don't dress for her alone anymore. I actually like it." I looked at the top of Rajan's head and studied his curly black hair. "I would probably dress if she didn't like it, but her liking it makes us both happy."

"You said you had sex with this girl?" Rajan asked.

"It wasn't sex really," I said. I glanced away before he raised his head to look at me. "I don't know what to call it."

"Can you at least explain what happened?" Rajan asked. "Take your time."

"I still had panties on," I said. "She was naked though." I looked at my bare feet hovering over the step of the table. "We kind of rubbed against each other."

"Did you act as if you were a girl during this experience?" Rajan asked.

"Yes," I said. "I think that's what got her so into it."

"Did you become erect?" Rajan asked.

"No…" I thought over my experiences with Tiffany. "In fact, I've never become erect while dressed."

"Never?"

"I can't recall it ever happening," I said.

"How often do you experience an erection?" Rajan asked.

"I don't have many at all," I said. "Maybe once a week."

Rajan reached up and rubbed his chin. He scribbled something on the clipboard. Then he flipped through several of the papers. I sat there in silence, freezing my knees off in the cold room. Eventually Rajan pulled a sheet of paper from the clipboard, and rearranged it so it was on top. Then he stood up and stepped over to me.

"Have you experienced any blunt trauma to your genitalia?" Rajan asked. "Either recently or in the past that you can recall?"

"Not that I can…"

My words hung in midair like a man holding desperately to the edge of a cliff. Then my thoughts took me back to the pool party. Tiffany banged against me several times that night, and almost had me doubling over in pain. I forgot all about it, as there wasn't any pain the next day. The next day, however, was when we were rubbing up against each other, so it was easy to forget. I conveyed this entire chain of events to Rajan, and he stood there staring at me.

"So this happened the night before?" Rajan asked.

"Yes," I said. "I haven't had any erections since then that I can recall."

"I'd like to take a look," Rajan said, pulling two gloves from a box on the counter. "To make sure nothing was damaged."

I nodded silently. Rajan had me lean back on my elbows. He snapped on the gloves and waited patiently as I shimmied my white panties, covered with colorful dots, down to my knees. When they reached my knees, he helped me remove them the rest of the way. It felt a bit odd having him hand my panties over to me. I'd had a doctor touch my genitals before, for the usual cough test, but never had to have one hand me my panties.

"Put your feet in these," Rajan said, pulling out the stirrups from the table. "And scoot your bottom up to the edge of the table."

This was a first. I thought only women used these things when they were pregnant or something. I slipped first my left foot into a stirrup, and then my right foot. As I scooted toward the foot of the table, I could hear Rajan wheeling his stool up. After adjusting his gloves, he pulled my gown away to expose more of me. Then he looked up at me and put his hands on my thighs.

"Just lean back and relax," he said. He patted my thighs. "Relax your legs."

I couldn't relax. Everything about this seemed uncomfortable. What could I do though? I couldn't scream and run out of the exam room in nothing but a gown. If there was indeed a problem, I definitely needed to know about it. I trusted he had done this all before, being a doctor and all, and let Rajan go about his business. Though my mind never wandered further than where he touched me.

"Have you experienced any pain or swelling since the incident?" Rajan asked.

"Really bad pain the first night," I said. "But it was gone in the morning. There was a slight bruise where she bumped against me. I haven't noticed any swelling or pain since then."

"Well the area looks a bit swollen right now," he said.

Rajan cupped his hand around my scrotum. It made me jump, but not in pain. He patted my right thigh with his left hand, coaxing me to relax. For a moment it felt like he was weighing them in his hand. Soon he went about squeezing and rolling my testicles gently between his fingers. He pulled down on them lightly, and felt with his other hand the various cords above them.

"Does any of this hurt?" Rajan asked.

"A bit of dull pain when you pulled down," I said.

"Not unusual," Rajan said. "They didn't hurt when I squeezed them?"

"No…"

Rajan turned to write something down. "Any pain while urinating, or signs of blood in your urine?"

"I've been going a bit more."

"Do you wake up to go?"

"Maybe once a week," I said.

"Well they seem to be okay," Rajan said. "I can schedule you for an ultrasound to be sure." He wheeled away on his stool. "I don't think it's necessary though. I'd just like you to keep an eye on the area, and let me know if there are any changes."

"They're okay then?" I looked up over my knee to see him scribbling away at his clipboard.

"It might be nothing to worry about, because you haven't started puberty yet it seems," Rajan said. "But they're a little small for your age. They should have grown close to their adult size by now." He put the clipboard down and turned to face me. "It's a long shot, but I'd like to have some blood work done. You might have what's called hypogonadism."

"What is that?"

"It's when the gonads, in your case the testicles, have decreased activity. Like I said, it's a long shot, but it could explain a bit about what you're going through," Rajan said. "You seem to have a few of the symptoms." He looked at the paperwork. "We'd have to run some tests, and have you come in for a follow up." He stepped over and covered me a bit with the gown. "I wouldn't worry too much about it. You may just be a late bloomer."

"What happens if it is hypo…"

"Hypogonadism," Rajan said. "We would have to treat it with testosterone replacement therapy. Hopefully it would jumpstart your system into puberty as well." He gave me a sincere look. "Again, I wouldn't worry about it until we know something."

Rajan patted my knee. Then he helped me get my feet out of the stirrups. As I sat back up, I immediately pulled the gown down to cover myself as much as possible. Rajan hardly paid any attention to me. He went back to scribbling on the clipboard a little more. After a bit of awkward silence, he clicked his pen shut. Then he turned and gave me a reassuring smile.

"I'm going to step out and have a conversation with your stepfather," Rajan said. "Just sit tight. Jennifer will be in to take some blood, and then you can be on your way."

"Thanks Rajan," I said.

"Don't be so glum," Rajan said, pulling off his gloves to discard them. "You're actually in better shape than you think."

He shook my hand, and then removed himself from the room. Several minutes passed. I spent the time alone in silence, contemplating what his diagnosis even meant. I even checked to see if hypogonadism was on the chart full of words, but it wasn't there at all. This was all too adult for me, and I started to wish my mother was here. She would've understood this. At least I thought she would.

Jennifer eventually entered the room. She made some comment about how cute it was that my toenails matched my fingernails. Then she became my worst enemy for a few minutes, as she took blood from my arm like it was water from an ocean. After she finished, she told me to take a few minutes before getting up and dressed. I didn't feel lightheaded like she said I might. I just wanted to get my clothes back on and go home.

That would have to wait. Before I left, I had to see the secretary up front. She seemed all chipper that she actually got to be a part of my visit. After a quick rundown of my visit, and stating everything about me checked out physically, she gave me a packet to take home. She explained inside there were some questionnaires to bring back with me the next time I visited, or I could drop them off there at the office. Great! Homework…

Tom went ahead and scheduled my next appointment for mid August. I wasn't too happy with that, because it happened to be a week before school started. Not only that, but it only gave me a little over three weeks to go through questions that might take me a lifetime to answer. I felt it was Tom's little ploy to get me "cured" before I went back to school. As I turned away from the counter, I came face to face with someone very familiar.

"Meg?"

"Oh," Megan said shyly. "Hey Bailey." She produced a smile on her youthful olive-colored face.

"I wanted to talk to you at the party," I said, "but I didn't get a chance."

"I can give you my number," Megan said.

"Hey Tom," said a man who looked to be Megan's father. "Nice to see you again."

"Mark," Tom said, shaking the man's hand. "How are you?"

"Just bringing Megan in for a checkup," Mark said. "I see you took my advice."

"I didn't know where to turn," Tom said. "But when you told me about Megan, and then suggested Doctor Dinesh." He glanced at me. "I thought we'd at least see."

"Well I hope everything works out for you two," Mark said. "Maybe we'll see each other on poker night again."

"Count on it," Tom said. "You took me to the cleaners last time."

Tom and Mark laughed and joked about a few other things. Meanwhile, Megan quietly wrote her number down on the back of my appointment card. When she finished she lifted her pretty almond-shaped eyes to look into mine, and gave me a pleasant smile. I thanked her, right before Tom announced it was time to leave. We left shortly after, and I sat in silence for the first half of the ride home.

"So you know Megan huh?" Tom asked.

"From the party Friday," I said. "She was in my class too, but I don't know much about her."

"Well you two have a lot more in common than you think," Tom said.

"So I've heard…"

"Her dad was in the military," Tom said. "He wasn't home a lot, until recently when he got discharged." He leaned forward to look at a stoplight. "About a year ago Megan started showing signs she wanted to be a girl. Even wearing her mom's things. Mark caught her prancing around in his wife's slip and pantyhose." He glanced at me. "I guess things like that happen when you don't have a male role model around all of the time." His face turned back to the street. "Anyway, he met Rajan, and they got it all sorted out. Come to find out his son was made to be a girl."

"Really?"

"They said the best time to figure it out is when you're young," Tom said. "It's a lot easier to start the changes then." He paused for a moment. "They found out for Megan before puberty hit, which made it really easy on her to transition."

"So she's a girl now?"

"Well…" Tom glanced at me and then back to the street. "Almost. She has a bit more to go through until that decision is made, but she'll be going to school as a girl. It's called something like an adjustment phase."

I couldn't believe it. The thought of being a girl captured my attention for the rest of the ride home. My mother wanted to know everything about the visit to Doctor Dinesh, but I didn't feel like discussing it with her. I felt like there wasn't much to discuss. Rajan had said I was perfectly healthy, and even if I had a problem, he said it was a long shot. So really, what was there to say? There might be a problem? Why get my family worked up over something that could be nothing?

The week seemed to drag after Monday's doctor visit. I spent most of the afternoons filling in what few questions I thought I could answer on the papers they gave me. To be honest, questionnaires happened to be an understatement. What they gave me seemed more like a test to get into an ivy league college. How was I supposed to express how I felt, with my limited sixth grade vocabulary, on tests written by some snob who went to college for half of his life?

By the weekend I gave up on the test. Tiffany called me on Friday, and I got my mom to take us to see My Best Friend's Wedding before it disappeared from the theaters. Even though I wasn't in the mood for a movie like that, it was a bonus to see Julia Roberts again on the big screen. I'd always had a little crush on her. Honestly, the movie wasn't that bad either.

I had no choice, but to go as a girl to the movie. Though I easily could have thrown on some of my boy clothes and gone, I'd been too busy that week to do anything with my hair. I still had this girly half-punk-half-emo hairstyle. So I dressed as a girl more out of convenience. Tiffany didn't seem to mind, and we had a pretty good time for being chaperoned.

When Monday rolled around, I figured I had to get back to the questionnaire. Afternoons went by, and I wrote until my hands hurt. We didn't have a computer yet, as Tom saw them as another thing to keep fixing. So I handwrote my answers to question after question. I even got so involved with it by Thursday, that I skipped dinner to finish a section of it. By Saturday I couldn't take it anymore.

I remember the sun peaking through my window that Saturday morning. Tom had gone off to work, and my mother had picked up an extra day of work at her office. Her company had some major deal they had to complete by the end of summer, and she was getting more and more involved in it. In the living room I could hear my brother and Nathan watching television. Their voices carried through the house as they commented on the show they watched.

I hadn't seen Nathan since the day I played football with him. For some reason I really wanted to let him see my new hairstyle. I'd followed the advice I received from the spa, and every day had taken time to moisturize with what Melanie gave me. I even pushed myself to steal my mom's razor and shaved the peach fuzz off of my legs that week.

Everything I'd done, from taking care of my nails to learning how to walk in heels, made me feel extremely feminine, and I wanted to show it to Nathan. However, there was a huge problem. Somewhere between getting up that morning and going to my closet to find what to wear, I had collapsed in a heap on the floor. My mind had simply overloaded from everything I had to think about the past two weeks. Thoughts started to go in loops, bringing up the same questions over and over.

Why did I want to see Nathan? Why did I think he wanted to see me? Did I want him to see me as a girl? What did I have to prove by showing I was more girly now? Did I want to impress him? What am I going to wear? What could I wear that would impress him? Why did I want to see Nathan… as a girl?! Then I heard voices drawing closer to my door.

"Where is she anyway?" Nathan asked. "I kinda wanted to say hi."

"I thought she'd be up by now," Justin said. "Let me check on her."

A gentle knock sounded on my door. I didn't even have the will to answer. With a large pile of clothes around me, boys' and girls', I sat amidst it all in nothing but white panties and a white padded bra. The bra wasn't even closed in the back, and drooped off of my right shoulder. Clothes sat over my legs, which were situated out in front of me with my knees bent and facing outward. I could see my pink toenails sticking out from underneath it all.

"Bailey?" Justin asked quietly, as my door swept open over the carpet of my room. "You okay?" A moment of silence passed. "Bailey?" He stepped into my room. "I think something's wrong with her," he said to Nathan, who still stood in the hallway.

"What?" Nathan asked. "What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know," Justin said. "She's not responding at all."

"Bailey?" Nathan asked, stepping into the room.

"I don't think you should…" Justin's voice trailed off.

"No it's okay," Nathan said. "Bailey?"

I realized his voice was close now. Nathan was actually in my room. He saw me like this! I still couldn't move though. Maybe I didn't want to move. If I just sat still, maybe they'd give up and go away. No such luck.

"Come on…" Justin said. "Say something."

"I don't want you guys to see me like this," I said.

"But I'm your brother," Justin said.

"Why don't you go get her some water," Nathan asked, "and an aspirin, or something?"

"Stay here with her," Justin said, before rushing out of the room.

"Bailey…" Nathan said, dragging out the vowel sounds of my name.

"You guys should just go," I said. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," Nathan said. "Can I come over there?"

"Why?"

"I thought maybe you might need a little help digging out," he said. "Looks like your closet exploded on you."

I smiled. For the first time that week, someone had made me smile. My eyes got misty, and a chill ran up my spine. It just had to be Nathan. Why was he so damn nice to me? He didn't know me at all, yet he looked out for me like I was his sister. When I didn't respond to him, he quietly stepped over to me.

"What were you trying to do?" Nathan asked, his voice hushed beside me.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, and then clenched my lips for a moment. He wasn't going away. "I…"

"Why don't we start with this?" Nathan asked, moving to slide my bra strap back onto my shoulder. Then he hooked it closed behind me. "Better?"

I nodded quietly. Justin came back in the room. He handed Nathan a glass of water, and an aspirin. Nathan handed me the tiny white aspirin and waited until I put it in my mouth. Then he handed me the glass of water, and waited patiently for me to finish with it. When I had taken all I wanted, I handed the glass back to him, and he gave it to Justin.

"What's wrong with her?" Justin asked.

"I think she's just having a little trouble deciding what to wear," Nathan said.

I looked at him with tears in my eyes. Nathan smiled at me, and I returned a halfhearted smile. There seemed to be some sort of understanding between us. He knew there was something wrong, but he also knew I wasn't prepared at all yet to discuss it. Behind me I could hear Justin sitting down on the side of my bed. Nathan started to rummage through the clothes near me.

"What did you want to be today?" Nathan asked.

I shook my head. "I'm tired of questions."

"She's been filling out some stuff for the doctor the past two weeks," Justin said, almost as if commentating from my bed.

"Oh," Nathan said. "I'll pick something out for you then."

"What do you know about this?" I asked, becoming a bit more lively.

"I know plenty about what girls wear!" Nathan said.

"Shocking as that sounds," Justin said, "he actually does."

"What do you have in mind?" I asked, with a sniffle. I reached up and wiped my eyes.

"Well I think you could use some fresh air first of all," Nathan said. "Maybe something to wear to the park…"

"That sounds good," I said.

"See!" Nathan said. "I'm already one for one."

His comment tickled me. I didn't care how lame it may have been on a normal day, but right then it brightened up my mood. It even warranted a subtle laugh from me. Nathan picked through my clothes and tossed some aside. Then he found a pair of white short leggings I'd only worn once before to try on. They came down to just above my knees with a little inch of lace pattern at the bottom of the legs.

"These," Nathan said, "with the jean skirt there in your closet."

"The dark one?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said.

Nathan stood up beside me. Then he stooped over and helped me stand up. As I stood up, I instinctively became more modest, realizing I was in lingerie in front of two boys. Neither one of them took this into account. I think Justin was too busy watching Nathan, to make sure he didn't do anything out of the ordinary. Nathan meanwhile, made himself busy thumbing through my shirts in the closet.

I quickly slipped my feet through the legs of the leggings, and pulled them up to my waist. At least they would be some cover. Almost on cue, Nathan handed the skirt back to me. I took the skirt off the hanger, and stepped into it. After fastening the skirt closed around my waist, with the three buttons, I stood and watched Nathan. He finally settled on a shirt, and pulled it from the closet.

"With this," Nathan said, handing me the top.

He picked out a light pink tunic top I found at one of the consignment shops. I liked it because it was actually really comfortable. It had a scoop neck, which hung from the shoulders with two inch wide straps. Along the edge of the neck, as well as the arms, there was a bit of frilly trim. The midsection tapered in slightly with it tied in the back, giving it a fitted look, but quickly flowed out into a pleated three inches at the bottom.

Nathan watched as I slipped it on. It cascaded down my torso and fell wistfully over the top half of my skirt. He coaxed me to turn around. When my back faced him, he took up the drawstrings of the top and tied them into a bow behind me. It felt unusual for a guy to be doing this, but he was sweet about it. Now I kind of knew what my mom felt like when she asked Tom to zip up one of her dresses in the back. Justin looked on with a bewildered expression.

"I know I probably shouldn't say this," Justin said, "but you really do make a pretty girl."

"Thanks," I said.

"Can say it if it's true," Nathan said.

I spun around to face him. "You think I'm pretty?"

"Of course I do," Nathan said.

My face lit up into a smile.

"But hey, don't get the wrong idea," he said. "You're like my best friend's sister."

How quickly my smile faded. "What does that mean?"

"It means…" Nathan seemed to be thinking about what it meant. "I guess it means you're like a sister to me too," he said. "You know? I'll look out for you like Justin would."

"Oh… I see."

Though I really didn't. This whole time I thought he was into me. I mean what did I have to do to get his attention? Wait a minute! Why did I want his attention in the first place? Did I somehow subconsciously want his approval? Nathan gave me a pleasant smile. He turned to look through my shoes. I looked around at the pile of clothes.

"I should clean this up," I said.

"Don't worry about it," Justin said. "I'll help when we get back."

"Yeah," Nathan said. "I'll help too if I got time." He turned back to me holding out a simple pair of Roman thong sandals. "You need a break."

"We'll go wait for you in the living room," Justin said, as he stood and walked out of my room.

"My hair's probably a mess," I said.

"Not at all," Nathan said. "You look nice." He stepped to the door. "Just put on a little lip gloss or whatever, and you're set." He flashed me a smile and left the room.

I stepped over to the mirror. He wasn't lying. My hair actually looked good today. I sat down and slipped my feet into the thong sandals. Then I pulled the clear straps up over my heels and buckled them on the sides. Next I hurried over to my dresser. After rummaging through all of my nail polishes and makeup, I finally found my pink lip gloss. I also found some bubblegum.

I rushed across the hallway, and quickly brushed my teeth. After applying the lip gloss, I popped the bubblegum in my mouth and messed with my hair just a little. As I fluffed up my hair, I noticed my small bottle of ck one sitting on the counter. I decided to dab a little of it on my wrists and behind my ears. Then I dabbed a little behind my knees and put the bottle back down.

When I came out of the bathroom I suddenly remembered my sunglasses my mother had bought me the day of our spa visit. They were cheap little white-framed drugstore sunglasses, but the only girly ones I had. So I stepped into my room and grabbed them. I'd be in the sun anyway. I might as well have something. After slipping my lip gloss in the tiny pocket of my skirt, I was ready to go meet the boys.

"Well don't you look cute," Nathan said, standing when I came in the room.

"You look nice Bailey," Justin said. "Ready to go?"

I nodded, and followed Nathan out the front door. Justin locked the door, and the three of us headed to the park. The park happened to be about two blocks away, so it wasn't a huge trek. It felt good to get out in the sun. The warmth did a bit of good for my body being cooped up in the house for two weeks. I could definitely use the fresh air.

The park seemed a little too quiet for a Saturday. Maybe people had other things to do. There were a few mothers there with their little kids, and a few other older kids goofing around. I walked over to the swings with Nathan on my left side and Justin on my right. It had honestly been awhile since I'd been to the park. Perhaps it had even been over a year.

As I took a seat on one of the swings, a group of boys around Justin's age came into the park. They were tossing around a football, and it seemed they picked Justin up on radar. After a bit of talk, they convinced Justin to join them in a game. Nathan couldn't be convinced, however, and opted to sit the game out to talk to me. The guys gave him a bit of a hard time for this, but they eventually gave up and went away. I couldn't join them even if I wanted to, not because of Tom's rule, but because I had sandals on and would've fallen on my face.

"Didn't wanna leave you alone," Nathan said, strolling around behind me. "Besides, I'm tired from seven on seven camp, and two-a-days start next week…"

"I'm glad you stayed," I said, interrupting him before I heard all about football from him. "I don't know if I'll be that great of company though."

"Are you kidding?" Nathan asked. "You're always fun."

Nathan grabbed the chains of the swing and started twisting them over my head. I grabbed hold of the chains, and held on as he turned me around and around. Then he stopped and stepped back, letting go of the swing. The swing started to spin around, and I kept my knees tight together as I tucked my legs underneath it. When it started to twist up the other way, Nathan helped it. Then he released it to let me spin around the other way.

"Okay," I said, after several more spins. "That's making me dizzy."

Nathan chuckled. "You want me to push you?"

"I just wanna sit," I said.

"No problem," Nathan said, taking a seat on the swing next to me.

For several minutes we sat there in silence. I watched my brother playing football off in the distance. Something told me I'd be watching him a lot more once he started on the varsity team. Junior varsity football didn't warrant me being dragged out on a school night, but I knew Tom wouldn't be able to resist those Friday night games. I'm sure he would make it so my mom and I weren't able to resist either.

"What did you mean earlier?" Nathan asked. "When you said you were tired of questions."

"Oh…" I shook my head. "It's just this dumb questionnaire I had to fill out for the doctor."

"Doctor?"

"Yeah," I said. "I'm seeing a doctor that specializes in my… whatever I am."

"He only sees cute girls?" Nathan asked, smiling.

"You know what I mean," I said. I frowned at him. "This is pretty serious."

"I'm sorry," Nathan said. "I'm just trying to get you to feel better."

"I feel fine," I said. "Just tired of these questions. They're just a bunch of questions I don't think I can answer. Some I don't even understand."

"Like what?"

"Like…" I tried to think of one of the questions I was stumped on. "Explain your perception of yourself, or any feelings of elation when performing tedious responsibilities while presuming the role of the opposite gender."

"Wow…" Nathan said. "You sure you're not supposed to be taking that test with your mom, or something?"

"They didn't say to," I said. "But what does it even mean?"

"Well…" Nathan said. "It means to tell them how you view yourself, or how happy you are, when doing normal day-to-day things when you're dressed as a girl." He looked at me. "Like for instance, how do you feel right now?"

"Right now?"

"Yeah," Nathan said. "You took a day out to go to the park as a girl. There's nothing more normal than that."

"I guess I feel normal," I said. "It feels like I'm out in public as a girl."

"And are you happy about it?" Nathan asked.

"I'm happy to be away from those questions," I said with a giggle.

"Seriously…" Nathan said, pushing me away on the swing. "Are you happy as a girl?"

"Most of the time," I said. "I mean you can't be happy all of the time."

"Of course not," Nathan said. "But you just admitted you feel perfectly happy and normal in the role of a girl. Simple enough to answer. Sounds like you just need a thesaurus." He pushed me again when I swung back to him. "You're a pretty smart girl Bailey. You'll figure it out."

I swung into him playfully. "So you think I'm cute, and smart?"

"Yeah," Nathan said. "But don't get a big head about it."

He smiled at me. I smiled back. We playfully swung into each other on the swings. After awhile we ended up playing footsy with each other. I could tell he liked it, and I could definitely tell he had a thing for feet. A few minutes passed and then I purposefully rubbed my bare legs against his. This really got his attention.

"You wanna get out of the sun?" Nathan asked.

"It feels good," I said, sliding my leg against his. "Doesn't it?"

"A bit too hot," Nathan said. "I've been outside a lot lately."

I stood up and glanced around. My eyes landed on one of the picnic shelters. "Let's go over there."

I set off toward the picnic shelter, a very secluded picnic shelter I might add. Nathan followed closely behind me. When we got over there, I waited until Nathan sat down first. This would decide how and where I sat. I knew he had some kind of feelings for me, and I was determined to get them out in the open. Not to mention I had my own feelings to share.

Nathan chose to sit on one of the benches of an aluminum picnic table. He situated himself out of the sun, but as to be able to see the guys playing football. I had other plans, and needed his attention for them to work. With the sexiest and most flirtatious walk I could muster, I strolled in front of him. I gracefully stepped up onto the bench he sat on, and turned to sit right next to him on the table. Then I crossed my right leg over my knee, and where my leg ended up was right in front of him.

"You were right," I said. "This does feel better."

I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He turned his head slightly to stare at my foot, and then turned it a bit more. His eyes trailed up my leg, until eventually he had his whole head turned to face my legs. Whether he wanted to admit it, or not, I had him. He either had feelings for me, or he was completely infatuated with my lower body.

"Find something you like down there?" I asked, using Kate's line that hooked me in several weeks ago.

"Your legs…" Nathan said, almost mindlessly. "I mean… they smell good."

"Oh… I put a dab of perfume behind my knees," I said.

"No," Nathan said. "I mean, I like that too, but it's the cherry and vanilla I smelled earlier in your room."

"Oh!" I said. "That's my new lotion I got at the spa." I lifted my leg slightly toward his face. "I've been using it more lately. Makes my skin really smooth too."

"May I?" Nathan asked without even blinking.

"Be my guest," I said.

As soon as his hand touched my leg, I knew he was mine. The only problem was, I didn't know what to do with him. Perhaps I should have thought this through a little better. I couldn't stop him now. It would be rude. After all, I was the one who initiated the contact. I didn't know if I would have control enough to stop though. Tiffany had control enough to stop me, and she was totally nude. However, she had quite a few more years on me of using her feminine wiles.

Nathan's hand ran up my bare calf, and back down to my heel. Then he lifted it closer to his face. At first I thought he was going to kiss my leg, but instead he brought it to his nose and took in a deep breath. As he exhaled, he let his breath trail over my bare skin. Then he moved his nose up to my knee and took in another deep breath. Again, he exhaled over my bare skin.

"You like?" I asked.

"Yes," Nathan said, while exhaling.

My plan suddenly blew up in my face. While I was trying to find out what Nathan's feelings for me were, I didn't expect him feeling me to feel so good. With his hand still on my heel, he turned to straddle the bench. His right hand came up to greet my leg, and he used it to rub up and down the back of my calf. Before long his left hand started to half-massage-half-tickle my foot. His thumb kept going between my sandal and foot to caress the arch of my foot.

"You shouldn't let all of this doctor stuff stress you out," Nathan said. "Take a break from it every once in awhile."

This really wasn't at all what I had in mind when I started this. I had wanted to talk to Nathan. Instead I sat there, like an idiot, unable to speak. The sensations I received, from Nathan's touch, sent my mind off into another dimension. He made my body shiver in eighty-five degree weather. I couldn't even move.

His fingers grazed over my leg. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all. Nathan didn't go overboard like I expected he would. He simply teased me, playfully letting his fingers trail up and down my leg and around my ankle. Meanwhile, the fingers of his other hand moved lightly around the exposed parts of my foot and toes. He traced the clear plastic straps of my sandal.

My gaze fixated on the horizon. Blue skies, clouds, trees, they all became blurred into a glob of nothingness. In the distance I could hear people shouting, mainly from my brother's football buddies. Wait a minute! My brother! What if he saw us? I thought about pulling my foot away, but it wasn't really something to get worked up over. I guess it wasn't any different than what I did at the party the other night with Vanessa.

"This doesn't bother you does it?" Nathan asked.

"Huh?"

"Me touching you like this?" Nathan asked. "You seem kind of jittery."

"It's fine," I said. "I take it you like feet?"

"I do," Nathan said. "Legs too. You probably think I'm a freak huh?"

"No. It's not that," I said. "It's just…"

I looked down at him. Honestly I liked what he was doing. At the time, it didn't seem to bother me. I didn't expect it to go like this, and now I didn't really feel like talking about what I wanted to talk about with him. There wasn't really that much between us. Besides, what would Tiffany think if I blew her off to be with a guy? Nathan looked like a guy about to lose something dear to him, and this look opened up a gateway for me to talk about what I wanted to talk about.

"I've been thinking a lot lately," I said. "About different things."

"Oh…" Nathan said. "Care to share?"

"I just feel there's all these expectations for me," I said. "And I can't be everything for everyone."

"What is it you think is expected from you?" Nathan asked.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I asked.

"No," Nathan said. "Well… sort of. I mean I've been keeping in touch with this girl I dated back in Pittsburgh."

"What's she like?"

"Kind of tall," Nathan said. "Just a bit shorter than me. Black hair, about shoulder length." He glanced down at my legs. "She's got a pretty face. Pretty nice body."

"Do you ever think…" I glanced around the park for a moment. "Do you ever think about me? You know… in that way?"

"As a girlfriend?" Nathan asked. His hands stopped moving on my leg.

I looked down at him. "As anything more than this."

"I hope I haven't given you the wrong idea," Nathan said. "I like you."

"But?"

"Well you're my friend's sister," he said. "Plus you're a little young…"

"We're only two years apart," I said. "You have to give me a better reason than that."

"Look…" Nathan moved his hand down my leg. "Maybe if you were a bit older…" He stopped when he could tell that excuse wouldn't fly with me. "I gotta be honest. Right now it's just not a good time. You have a girlfriend. You still have some things to deal with. I don't think either one of us is ready." His fingers started grazing my leg and foot again. "I'd just like it to stay like this for awhile."

"Like this?" I asked. "Does that include you drooling over feet?"

"Well they are cute feet," Nathan said with a smile.

"You are so biased," I said, amidst a laugh. "So…" I looked at Nathan with all the sincerity in the world. "Where does this leave us?"

"Good friends?" Nathan asked.

"I'd like that," I said.

"And maybe every once in awhile I could give your feet a massage after a long day in heels?"

I chuckled at his remark. "Deal!"

He took my hand and shook it like we had made a business arrangement. Then I withdrew my foot from his hands. After removing myself from the picnic table, I stepped away into the sunlight. I turned back to smile at Nathan, but I figured he would like a little time to collect himself. So I strolled off to watch my brother play for a little while. Eventually Nathan came over, and we got Justin away from the game. Then we all walked back home together.

About two weeks later, on a Thursday in the middle of August, I sat in Doctor Dinesh's office. We were in his actual office, sitting in two rigid chairs across from a large wooden desk. A name plate with "Dr. Rajan Dinesh" sat proudly near the front of the desk, next to the large monitor of his computer. I had discovered a small yellow egg, which when tipped would always rock back to stand upright. Later I discovered it was a paperweight I continued to play with.

After ten or fifteen minutes passed, Rajan came through the door. "How are we today Bailey?" He shook my hand, and then Tom's hand. "Mister Walker?"

"Good," Tom said.

"A little nervous," I admitted.

"I'm sure there has been a lot of anxiety over the past few weeks," Rajan said. "Has anything changed since I saw you last?" Rajan looked directly at me.

"No," I said. "Everything's the same."

"Good," Rajan said. "I have the results from the lab on your blood work." He started to type away at his computer. "Then I'd like to discuss briefly the questionnaires you dropped off earlier this week."

"Okay," I said. "Some of the questions were hard to understand."

"Yes," Rajan said. "I apologize, but they're written more to get you thinking rather than simply answering yes or no." He smiled at me. "And multiple choice would be cheating."

"Well I hope we're ready to take whatever news you have," Tom said.

Rajan gave him a blank look. "Yes," he said. "Perhaps I should just get right into it?"

"That would be best," I said.

"Bailey…" Rajan swiveled in his chair to face me. "You do happen to have a case of hypogonadism, the condition I discussed with you earlier." He slid a piece of paper across the desk, with numbers on it my stepfather didn't even understand, let alone me. "The average levels of testosterone in the male body range from two-hundred and fifty nanograms per deciliter, to eight-hundred and fifty." He pointed to a location on the chart. "Your testosterone levels tested slightly below one-hundred and twenty."

Tom looked puzzled beside me. "So it's been an internal thing all along?"

"It's always internal Mister Walker," Rajan said. "Whether someone is born with a deficiency, has different genes, or if it is a mental condition."

"I just thought he liked putting on girls' clothing," Tom said. He leaned back in his chair in disbelief. "At one point I thought it was even erotic in nature."

"According to the questionnaires," Rajan said to Tom. "That's partly true, and we can prescribe something to curb those desires. We can discuss it later." Rajan looked back at me. "For now, I need to let Bailey know that this is treatable with testosterone replacement therapy, or if we go the other route, I can prescribe something to lower your testosterone even further."

"What will that do?" I asked.

"Testosterone replacement therapy?" Rajan asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"Like I mentioned the last time you were here," Rajan said. "It will boost your overall testosterone levels, and jump start your puberty. I'm afraid without it, you might not start puberty until your late teens." He sat back in his chair. "Either way you run the risk of having a late puberty or complications with it."

"Well I don't want that!" I said.

"Most boys and girls your age don't," Rajan said.

"So this can go either way?" Tom asked.

Rajan nodded. "I can start the treatment today," he said. "However, since you're not Bailey's legal guardian, I would need approval from the mother."

"I can call and talk to her," Tom said.

"And there are some risks and some side effects we need to go over," Rajan said.

"How about you two discuss that, while I call Susan?" Tom asked, mostly to me.

I nodded, petrified I would again be left to make the adult decision. Tom stood up and stepped out of the room. I could hear him start to talk on his cell phone. Meanwhile, Rajan pulled out a folder with my name on it. He opened it up and took out a few pieces of paper. One had the words "Treatment Options" on the top, and another said "Side Effects and Risks of HRT" at the top. He slid them both to the edge of his desk for me to see.

"This is a big decision," Rajan said. "I know you're young, and probably don't understand all of this, but I need you to trust yourself with making the right decision." He pointed first at the treatment options page. "What we would do, if you decide to go through with it, is administer a series of shots. This can be done once a month, or twice a month. Again, your choice."

"I'd probably go with once a month to get them over with," I said.

"Well…" Rajan gave me a serious look. "There are patches that can be applied as well. That's entirely up to you. However, let me tell you some of the risks involved." He slid the other paper over. "There is a small chance the treatment might not work. Due to other unforeseen factors, your body may attack the new testosterone in your body. We'll be monitoring you for the first six months to see."

Rajan went on to explain risk after risk of having hormone replacement therapy. He mentioned things like prostate problems, infertility, sleep apnea and problems with my skin. I sat and listened to each risk he sounded off, and the ones he thought I didn't understand, he explained better. It seemed kind of funny to me that my condition had been deemed "easily cured" and supposedly not a big deal, but he made it sound like it could kill me at some point.

When he started explaining what things would possibly be fixed with the treatment, I perked up a bit. He mentioned muscle mass, which I sorely lacked. I even got teased about my girly physique. If I was going to be a guy, I wanted to look like one. After listing off several more beneficial things, he cited possible side effects. These included possible weight gain, swelling or soreness in the breast area, problems sleeping and loss of appetite.

"There is something else I would like to discuss," Rajan said. "The questions you filled out formed a bit of a psychological profile." He slid another piece of paper in front of me. "Though you didn't know it, the questionnaire actually tested some things as well. You tested right down the line between girl and boy. Though on average you leaned toward the girl side of the spectrum."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"It means you have a decision to make," Rajan said, "and not much time to make it." He gestured toward the door. "Your stepfather will be in here in a few moments with the okay from your empathetically unstable mother." He leaned forward a bit. "I guarantee both of them will want you to go along with becoming their little boy again." He sat back in his chair. "What I need to know right now, is if you want to do that, or if you want to go the other route."

"You mean I can choose to be a girl?" I asked.

"Of course," Rajan said. "It's your life. There are risks and side effects the other way, but you might be happier in the long run."

"I have to decide now?" I asked, my head swimming.

"You have from now," Rajan said, "to when I stick you with that needle. You don't have to tell me in front of your stepfather, but I need to know before we start treatment."

"Well…" Tom burst back into the room. "Your mother gave the go ahead. She said she'll even sign off on it, if that's what it takes."

"No need for that Mister Walker," Rajan said. "I just need Bailey's decision."

They both stood and stared at me. Never before had I felt so much pressure. On one hand, there was pressure to do the right thing. I knew I was a boy. I couldn't deny it. All summer I had been pretending. The right thing would be to take the testosterone and go on to live my life as a healthy and active male. On the other hand…

"I just want to get on with my life," I said, looking at Rajan. "Even if it means being a boy… I want to move on… girl or boy."

Rajan looked at me for a moment, as if weighing my decision. "Then I'd say you made your choice," he said with a nod. "We'll work to that goal." He looked at Tom. "From here on out, I need you to let Bailey choose freely what to do. This will be a confusing time, and you'll need to show your support."

"I understand," Tom said, looking completely confused about the situation.

"I don't know if you do," Rajan said. "There will be times when Bailey will want to revert back to women's clothing, at times only to hold onto something. This might be a common occurrence and more frequent until Bailey starts to feel more comfortable with the changes going on inside." He stood from his desk. "There is also a slight chance the testosterone might not be accepted by Bailey's body, and in that case the body will make the decision over what we've decided here today."

"How long will it be until we know?" Tom asked.

"A few months," Rajan said. "Maybe even up to a year or more. We'll just have to keep monitoring the effects of the testosterone." Rajan looked at me. "With time and a bit of luck, Bailey may start choosing more and more paths leading to manhood." He looked back at Tom. "If the body chooses differently, you'll just have to learn to accept that. Until then, don't try to force it either way."

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," Tom said, looking at me.

Only two major events happened the following week. The first major thing happened to be Justin passing his drivers' test and getting his license, although his actual one wouldn't arrive for a month or two. The second thing happened to be Tiffany calling me and wanting to know if I wanted to go out to a "farewell to the summer" night with the other girls. At first I didn't want to go, but she convinced me it would be fun.

Tiffany also said it might be the last time of the summer I got to be me. I thought about what this meant the whole rest of the week. What did it mean to be me? Did I somehow convince myself I was supposed to be something else? The thing that really convinced me to go though, was Tiffany telling me that Megan was going to be there. I hadn't gotten a chance to call her and really talk about things. There was a huge part of me that wanted to know more about her. Like, for instance, how did she deal with all of this?

So there I stood, waiting for my brother to drag himself out of his room to take me. Through a clever bit of scheming, I had convinced him to go to the party with me. This wasn't easy, as the party happened to be at a roller rink, and Justin had outgrown roller skating when he was my age. I managed to win him over with one single selling point. Kate would be there.

The only thing that made me nervous about the entire night, was the slight chance I could run into other kids I knew from school. It was Friday night, and the roller rink happened to be a popular place to go for kids my age. With inline skates starting to hit big, the roller rink saw fewer and fewer crowds. Yet it was one of those silly things we just enjoyed.

Tiffany and Kate had this fun idea to dress in odd and bright colors. We all wanted to look crazy when they switched over to the new black lights they put in a year or so back. So I had on a pair of white leggings, which came down to about mid-calf. They had a cute pattern of flowers decorated into the two inch wide lace at the bottom of the legs. With them I wore the brightest pink skirt I had, which happened to fall in tiers slightly past mid-thigh. I completed the look with a black shirt, the front filled with white outlines of hearts, a pair of ankle socks and my white mule sneakers.

Justin had actually helped with the outfit. He told me white shows up better than anything in black light, and suggested something bright pink to throw it off. I honestly knew this, but it was nice to have him onboard for the night. He even went along with it, and put on black and white shorts with a white Nike t-shirt. It was nice to have my brother back. For a long time I thought Tom would continue to push him away from me.

After the usual safety lecture from mom, we were on our way. We met Kate and Tiffany in the parking lot, and I had to say I was shocked by both of their outfits. Tiffany had on about the opposite of me. She wore a black skirt, with bright pink leggings, only her leggings went down to her ankles. Here they met pink socks and plain white tennis shoes. Then she topped it all off with a white cap-sleeved t-shirt that had "LOVE" written across the front in bright pink letters.

Kate looked even more ridiculous. She didn't know Justin would be coming, and seemed embarrassed she got into the spirit of things too much. Her perfect legs were encased in neon blue tights that stretched up to her black tiered miniskirt. She wore a nearly see-through white cami top over another neon pink cami top. It looked like she stepped out of the eighties, but still looked good.

"Hey Kate," Justin said.

"Hi Justin," Kate said, trying to hide herself somehow in the evening sun. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Bailey convinced me," Justin said. "She's quite the negotiator."

Kate waved me toward her. "I'm sure me being here had nothing to do with it, right?" She smiled at Justin.

"It's a bonus," Justin said. "Cute outfit."

"Thanks…" Kate blushed uncontrollably, and shied away from the embarrassment.

I stepped over to Kate, who reached back into the car for something. When she came back out she had a pink wristband with a Nike swoosh on it. Kate coaxed me to hold out my right wrist. Then she slipped it on over my hand. She caught my hand before I pulled it away, and held my nails up in the sun light.

"Wow," Kate said. "Melanie told me you had them done, but I had to see."

"Melanie was nice," I said. "I'm glad I got to meet her."

"Well she'll be here tonight," Kate said.

"Really?" I asked.

"You've been taking good care of them," Kate said. "Not a lot of rough play." She let my hand go. "By the way, I love love love your hair." She reached up and played with the bangs. "You ever think about dyeing it darker?"

"No…" I said.

"Would look cute in an auburn," Kate said.

"It'll probably be back to normal by Monday," I said.

"Too bad…" Kate said.

"Maybe I should let you girls catch up," Justin said.

"No, no," Kate said. "I'm done." She looked at Justin. "Though you might feel kind of left out tonight. Unless Melanie brings Steve."

"That's okay," Justin said. "I can just bug you."

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" Kate asked, leaning against her car.

I turned to Tiffany, who was holding up her right wrist. The matching pink wristband showed in the sunlight, proudly displaying the Nike swoosh. She smiled. I smiled back. Then she gave me one of those "wait a minute" gestures, before taking off some of her brightly colored plastic cord wristbands, and handing them to me. I happily put them on my left wrist.

"We're gonna go on in," Tiffany said to Kate.

"Okay," Kate said. "Stay out of trouble. I'll be in in a few." She looked around the parking lot. "I'm gonna wait for Melanie."

"Need some company?" Justin asked.

"Actually…" Kate looked back at Justin. "I would like to talk to you about something."

Tiffany pulled me away. I'm not sure what was going on between Justin and Kate, but I thought she didn't like my brother. Maybe I was wrong. As we got closer to the door of the roller rink, a white Ford Tempo pulled into a spot up ahead. Four girls poured from the car, all dressed in outrageous outfits.

"I think I'm going to kill you for this outfit idea," Rebecca shouted to Kate across the parking lot. "I look ridiculous."

"Love ya," Kate shouted back mockingly.

Rebecca was right though. They all looked funny. Rebecca, herself, had on black tights with peace symbols all over, which seemed to slim her swimmers' legs. She wore them underneath pink knit shorts. Up top she had on a white t-shirt with a yellow jersey tank top over it. The tank top looked like something you'd wear in gym to indicate which team you were on.

Rebecca wasn't the silliest looking person though. Her little sister, Tracy, looked equally ridiculous. She had on a long sleeve white shirt, with a neon pink cami top over it. Looking down I saw she had on white tights under short pink shorts. Her silliness factor didn't hold a candle to Danielle though.

Danielle, with her wire like frame, stepped out of the car wearing a neon pink romper. To this day I swore she had on a full body suit underneath. She was covered from wrist to toe in the same pale blue material. I almost burst out laughing at their outfits. Then I remembered I had on something silly too. The thing that got me with Danielle though, was that she had pink streamers tied into her hair.

Vanessa, the last to exit the car, put them all to shame. She would've looked good in a potato sack. Vanessa put one of her beautiful legs out the door, and then the other. They were both enveloped by tights of a delicate ballerina pink color. Her shapely bottom filled out a pair of short dark jean shorts, while her nearly fully developed upper body was hugged by a bright pink cami top. She smiled when she saw me.

"Looking cute as ever Bailey," Vanessa said.

Tiffany seemed a little irritated at Vanessa's comment. She wrapped her arms around my right arm. I'm sure it was a show of dominance for Vanessa's benefit. Vanessa simply smiled at Tiffany, as if to say Tiffany couldn't even compete. I knew Tiffany and Vanessa weren't very close friends, but I could smell a catfight brewing.

Danielle turned Vanessa's attention away, and pulled her into the building. After Rebecca got the word from Kate to go on in without her, she walked to the door with Tracy. This left Tiffany and I alone for a brief moment. We watched another car, a red Cavalier, pull in near Kate's car. I didn't recognize the person driving, but there were two people in the back.

Tiffany let out an anguished sigh beside me. "What is her problem anyway?"

"Who?" I asked.

"Vanessa," Tiffany said. "She has everything, but has to take more."

"What is she taking?"

"She's trying to get her hooks into you for some reason," Tiffany said. "I mean, I know the reason." She looked me up and down. "You're so freakin' cute!" She looked up at the sky. "But she knows we're together…"

"Look…" I said, putting my hand up on her cheek to get her to face me. "She's not going to take me." I caressed her cheek as I looked into her pretty hazel eyes. "I'm yours."

"Well…" Tiffany said. "She's still gonna try. She's all flirty and 'oh my god, Bailey's so cute' every time she's around me."

"Well I can't not be cute," I said, smiling. "Just like you can't not be pretty." I waited for her to smile. "So let her try flirting." I leaned forward and gave her a peck on the forehead. "She'll just be wasting her time."

Tiffany pulled me close. In no time flat she had her lips pressed against mine. We held each other and kissed for the longest time. I thought if we kept going, it would turn into a make out session right there in the parking lot. She missed me, I could tell. I had missed her as well, and wished I could've seen her more the past month.

"Bailey!" Justin said. His voice came as a near shout, causing me to break the kiss and look back at him.

"Not here…" Kate said, in a scolding tone. Her eyes were like lasers trained on Tiffany. "We talked about this."

"You wouldn't believe what I have to break up," the driver of the Cavalier said, as she stepped out of the car. "These two can't keep their hands off each other."

"That's Lynne," Tiffany said. "Tawny's older sister."

Tiffany's insight clearly explained why Lynne had on what looked like a pink bathing suit top over a white t-shirt. Lynne let Tawny out of the backseat. When she closed the door, I could see the rest of her outfit. Her white shirt barely came into contact with her white pleated skirt. Under the skirt she had on neon pink leggings which came down past her knees. They almost looked like spandex.

"She's kind of the slutty one of the group," Tiffany said in a whisper behind me. "But don't pass that on."

"I won't," I said, glancing back at her. "Is that Megan with them?"

"Yeah," Tiffany said. She waited for a moment to talk after I turned back. "You like Megan or something?"

"I'd just like to talk to her." I turned to face Tiffany. "To ask her about… you know…"

"Oh…" Tiffany said. "She's kind of guarded about it all." She gestured for me to look back at the car. "And shy too. So watch what you say about it."

I saw Tawny waving at me, so I waved back. Tawny didn't really do much for an outfit. She had on light pink cargo Capri pants, with a black t-shirt, and black Converse sneakers. I was actually surprised she wore pink to begin with, as her shirt had a white skull and crossbones on the front. Maybe Megan got her to wear them. Though I don't think Megan had much influence on other people.

Megan stepped out of the car. She pushed up close to Tawny. Tawny held the door for her, and closed it after Megan was out. Again, she was the only girl so far to wear a dress. I started to wonder if she always wore dresses. Maybe it was her preference? At any rate, she looked good in her hot pink summer dress. Obviously the least outlandish of the group, she complimented the dress simply with black leggings, and black ballet flats. I could tell she never wanted to stand out in a crowd.

"Who we waiting on?" Lynne said.

"Melanie," Kate said. "The others are inside."

"This your new boyfriend?" Lynne asked, looking at Justin.

Kate looked embarrassed again. "We're just…"

"I'm Bailey's brother," Justin said. "I drove her here."

"Who's Bailey?" Lynne asked.

I raised my hand.

Lynne looked over at me. "Oh…" She gave a half laugh, as she flipped her raven black hair off her shoulder. "The other part of the lesbian couple over there."

"She's very blunt," Tiffany said in my ear.

"I noticed," I said.

"You so need to get past Mike." Lynne looked back at Justin. "If you don't want him, I'll take him. He's cute."

"Thanks," Justin said.

"Rebecca's inside," Kate blurted out. "Think she wanted to talk to you."

"I get it," Lynne said. "You two were talking. I'll leave you alone."

Tawny walked toward Tiffany and I. She rolled her eyes, clearly directed at Lynne. I smiled at her sentiments toward her own sister. Megan gave me a shy smile. She held up her empty left hand in a noncommittal wave. Her other hand was wrapped tightly around a pair of socks. I returned her wave and her smile.

"Hi Bailey," Megan said.

"Hey," I said.

"Nice to see you again Meg," Tiffany said, reaching out to touch Megan's upper arm.

"You too," Megan said.

Tawny stopped suddenly. For a moment Megan didn't know what to do. She quickly scooted back next to Tawny, and looked down for a moment. The girl obviously lacked self-confidence, and had several mental ticks to make up for her mistakes. I wasn't the prime example of self-confidence, but I wasn't shy to the point of hiding myself in a shell either. Megan had so much to give, if she'd only put herself out there a little bit.

"Ooh," Lynne said, walking between the four of us. "Lesbian meeting." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I'll just go inside."

"That would be delightful," Tawny said, in a mocking tone.

"You better watch yourself," Lynne said to her sister. "Or you and your girlfriend will be walking home." She waited to see if Tawny would make a remark. Then she turned to go inside, leaving us in peace.

"I was going to call you," I said to Megan. "I just got a little busy."

"It's okay," Megan said.

"If you two wanna talk," Tiffany said. "Tawny and I can go on in."

Megan looked at Tawny like her leaving would be the end of the world. I knew this would never work in this kind of environment. Parking lots were not the prime candidate for starting private conversations. Unless of course you count shady business deals in the twilight hours behind warehouses. Not to mention I had to find some way for Megan to feel safe enough to talk.

"Probably not the best place to talk about what I want to talk about," I said.

"Oh…" Tiffany grew ever so silent.

"You look pretty though Meg," I said.

Megan's face brightened up a bit. "Thanks… You look pretty too."

"And you look pretty," Tawny said to Tiffany.

"And you," Tiffany said to Tawny.

They then proceeded to give each other phony air kisses. Megan looked a little embarrassed. She moved her head down a bit toward her shoulder. I just stood there and shook my head.

"Okay…" I said. "A little awkward."

"Let's be honest," Tiffany said. "We all look good." She put emphasis on the word good.

"Are you kidding me?" Tawny asked. "We all look like we came from a time capsule."

The four of us laughed at Tawny's remark. Even Megan livened up a bit in the lighter mood. I suddenly had the urge to make it my goal that night to get her to break loose a little bit. It would take a lot of effort, but maybe I could get Tiffany and Tawny involved. They knew more about her than I did. I just wanted to see her have fun.

"Finally!" Kate said, from across the parking lot.

She waved toward a flashy red Mustang pulling into the parking lot. When they got closer I could tell Melanie was sitting in the passenger seat. I guess the guy driving was her boyfriend. They pulled into a somewhat distant parking spot away from the rest of the cars. Then the engine stopped, and the driver side door swung open.

Out of the car stepped who I could only guess was Steve. I had to admit, Melanie had done pretty well for herself. Though he was surprisingly shorter than I would have thought, he had the hardest body of any teenage boy I'd seen. His blonde hair, a bit shaggy, came down to the bottom of his ears. He showed as much interest in his wardrobe as my brother had, dawning a pair of white shorts with black stripes down the sides, and a white tank top. Justin found a particular interest in something else.

"Nice car!" Justin said, walking over to Steve.

"Thanks," Steve said. "I just got it a few months ago."

"You bought it?" Justin asked.

"Present for my birthday," Steve said. "Wanna see what's under the hood?"

"Sure!" Justin said, walking around to the front.

The passenger door of Steve's Mustang swung open. I couldn't help, but take an interest in who would be stepping out. From out of the car swung first one leg and then the other, both disappearing into a pair of black three inch heels. Melanie eased herself out of the vehicle. Her fit, slender legs stretched up to a flippy black skirt. She appeared to have on a neon pink body suit beneath a black, cropped cami top.

I had to admit. Melanie looked absolutely gorgeous despite what she had on. She shut the door on the passenger side, as Kate rushed over to greet her. They hugged, and then they both looked over at me. Kate pointed at me, and caused Melanie to wave. I returned her wave. Then I felt a tug on my arm. I turned to face Tiffany.

"We're gonna go in now," Tiffany said. "You wanna stay out here?"

"No," I said. "I'll go in too."

As we drew closer to the door of the roller rink, a familiar face came at us in the other direction. I recognized the person immediately. It was Kevin Patrick, one of my friends from school. He stepped through the first set of glass doors on the inside. When he stepped through the outside doors, he immediately recognized one of us. I cringed as he froze in his tracks.

"Tiffany?" Kevin asked.

"Oh, hey Kevin," Tiffany said. With her arm still wrapped around mine, she jerked me back out of the door to stand with her. "How've you been?"

Tawny and Megan slipped on through like they didn't know us. Kevin glanced at me, and smiled. I thought for sure he would recognize me. All he had to do was look at me a little longer, and put me and Tiffany together. He would surely know. Kevin turned his attention back to Tiffany.

"Okay," Kevin said. "Not too excited about starting school again Monday."

"I'm actually excited to get back," Tiffany said. "New experiences and all."

"Most girls I talk to are excited," Kevin said. "Though I haven't found a single male friend of mine ready to go back." He glanced inside and then back at Tiffany. "Speaking of which… you seen Zach around? Are you two still together?"

"No…" Tiffany said. "Unfortunately I'm no longer with Zach."

"That's too bad," Kevin said. "You two made a cute couple." He ran his hand through his short mouse brown hair. "I haven't seen him since summer started. Hope he's okay."

"You haven't called to talk to him?" Tiffany asked.

"I've been away at camp," Kevin said. "Just got back last week."

"Oh…" Tiffany said. "I see. I can tell him to call you if I see him."

"No," Kevin said. "It's okay. I never really liked him that much anyway." He dropped his hand to straighten out his light gray t-shirt. "I don't suppose…" He started to fidget. "You don't have a boyfriend now do you?"

"Not exactly," Tiffany said. "Why?"

"Well…" Kevin smiled nervously at me, and then looked at Tiffany. "I was wondering if you'd wanna do something with me some time?"

"You mean go out?" Tiffany asked.

I was about to punch Kevin. Here he was hitting on my girlfriend right in front of me, and insulted me right to my face; sort of. Tiffany, on the other hand, seemed to be leading him on with her half truths. Then I realized I couldn't do a thing about the situation. If I reacted to all of this, he would know something was up. Then he would find out I was Zach, or used to be. I just had to sit here and take it.

"You can bring your friend," Kevin said, glancing at me. "We could double or do a group thing."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Tiffany said. "Where are my manners?" She gestured toward me. "This is Bailey." Then she turned back to Kevin. "Bailey this is Kevin."

"Nice to meet you," I said, shaking Kevin's hand.

"Same here," Kevin said. His attention went back instantly to Tiffany, not even recognizing me or my voice. "So can I call you?"

"Sure," Tiffany said. "Let me just go inside and get a pen."

"Okay," Kevin said.

He followed us back into the roller rink. Inside the music roared with the latest candy pop songs. There were people talking and other people shouting over the people talking. On the rink came the roar and clacking of tens of people circling around the hardwood floor on their skates. Tracy and Vanessa were up talking with Danielle in the food court. They gave me a weird look when they saw Tiffany writing out her number on Kevin's hand.

I turned away from their stares, feeling a bit humiliated. As I worked my way over to the counter to pay, Tiffany caught up with me. She seemed happy about the whole situation. I don't know why she did, but I felt pretty low about it. We paid the fee to use the facilities, and then walked together to check out some roller skates.

"Can you believe that?" Tiffany asked, close to my ear.

"That my friend just asked you out?" I asked back. "I'm sorry… ex friend."

"Don't you know what that means?" Tiffany asked.

"That I can't trust Kevin?"

"No!" Tiffany said. "Well… yeah that too." She pushed my shoulder playfully. "But it means he didn't recognize you as well… you!"

"Huh?"

"He thought you were…" Tiffany leaned closer to whisper in my ear. "A girl."

"Oh…" I said, pulling back a bit. "I never thought about that." I looked at her gleeful expression. "I guess that's a good thing." In my mind, Kevin was still a jerk.

"It's a really good thing!" Tiffany said. She leaned into me. "It means we can get away with it for awhile."

"How long do you expect this to go on?" I asked. "I can't do it forever."

"Until you get tired of it," Tiffany said. "For as long as you're happy."

Truth be told I wasn't extremely happy. My girlfriend just got asked on a date by another boy, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. Tiffany checked out a pair of size five skates. She paid for them herself, and then moved down the counter a bit to make room for me. I stepped up to the counter. The young man leaned down so he could hear me.

"Size five," I said, sliding my money over the counter.

"Why don't you two just share?" the young man joked.

"I don't think that would work," I said.

His smirk dropped and he shrugged as he turned to get another pair of roller skates. To my surprise they weren't like the ugly brown ones Tiffany got. They were white with neon pink wheels and stoppers. He took my money, and I took the skates. It was kind of ironic they went with my outfit, but as I looked over his shoulder, I realized they were out of that size now.

I found out why a little bit later. Some of us had a lot more in common than being friends with Tracy. Five out of the seven of us wore the same size shoe. Danielle, Tawny and Vanessa all were skating around with a little number five in a circle on the back of their skates. I said something about it in front of Danielle, Vanessa and Tiffany, and we joked about sharing shoes.

I noticed Megan sitting on a bench by herself. Tawny had already put her skates on and was drifting along the rink with her sister Lynne. Now was my chance to maybe talk to her a bit. I gave Tiffany the "be right back" gesture, and strolled over to sit next to Megan. She shifted a bit uncomfortably when I sat down, but after awhile she went back to slipping her socks over her feet.

"Pretty crowded in here huh?" I asked.

"Yes," Megan said. "Makes me a bit nervous."

"Don't like crowds?"

Megan shook her head.

"Me neither," I said. "Especially when I'm out…" I leaned closer to her. "As a girl."

Megan turned and looked at me directly. "You're lucky," she said. "You have the look and the self-confidence to go with it."

"Me?" I shook my head. "You're the one that gets to do this every day. Even starting school next week as a girl." I sat back a bit. "That takes a lot more guts than I could ever have."

"I guess it's easier when you don't stand out," Megan said.

"What do you mean?" I asked as I pushed my sneakers off.

"I mean…" Megan turned to look at the crowd of people on the rink. "People won't remember Brice Seong, the dorky kid from elementary school." She paused to wave at Tawny, who skated by with a big smile on her face. "I'll just be a dorky girl named Megan. With any luck they won't connect my last name at all."

"Why not use it as an opportunity to be someone completely different?" I asked.

"How do you mean?"

"Like be the complete opposite of what you used to be," I said. "Be more outgoing and don't just try to blend in."

"I don't know if that's me," Megan said. "I wouldn't even know where to start." She leaned over to put her roller skates on.

"You can start with losing that attitude about yourself," I said. "Be a little more outspoken."

Megan looked up at me as she tied the laces on her right skate. "My parents don't like outspoken people." She turned her focus back at her feet. "They think kids should be seen and not heard."

"My parents are the same way," I said. "Mostly it's Tom, my stepfather." I slipped my left foot into the left roller skate. "I don't mean in front of your parents though."

"What do you mean then?" Megan asked, switching over to tie up her left roller skate.

"Well like when you're out with us," I said. "Speak your mind in the group, or be the first to step up in line at the counter." I finished tying the roller skate, and sat up to look at Megan. "Just put yourself out there a bit."

"Like Tawny's sister?" Megan sat up and smiled at me.

"Well…" I found Lynne in the crowd. "Not that out there." I looked back at Megan. "I just think you have a lot to offer."

"Really?" Megan asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I mean… you're cute. You make one pretty girl. I bet boys will be lining up to talk to you at school next week. That is if you let them actually see you."

"I don't know if I'm quite ready for that," Megan said.

"Oh, I forgot you're with Tawny," I said. "You probably don't even like boys."

"No…" Megan said. "I do." She looked a little embarrassed by the topic. "I mean, I like both. It's just… I don't think…"

"You don't want to go there yet?" I asked.

"Yeah…"

"I get it," I said. "I have questions about it too."

"You don't seem like you'd have much trouble at all landing a boy," Megan said.

"I'm not sure what to do with one if I did," I said, giving her a half smile.

"You know it's funny," Megan said. She leaned closer to me. "This is the longest conversation I've had with a boy who isn't related to me." She smiled at me. "I'm just afraid it doesn't count, because you make a prettier girl."

"Well thanks," I said. "It counts though." I gestured to my attire. "All of this is going in the back of the closet next week."

"That's too bad," Megan said. "Tawny won't get her wish." She smiled at me. "You're still going to dress though aren't you?"

"Maybe…" I said. "I think I'm going to take a break from it, to see how I feel about it."

"Sounds reasonable," Megan said. She held up a finger at Tawny, who happened to be across the rink waving at Megan to get out there. "Could I make one suggestion." Megan turned to give me a serious look. "Whatever you decide to do… make sure it's for yourself."

I watched Megan hop up from the bench. After a few awkward steps on the carpet she was out on the wooden floor of the rink. Though people had said it to me, to make the decision for myself, this was the first time I actually heard it. Maybe I paid more attention to it because it came from Megan, but it made me reevaluate all of my decisions up to that point.

I stooped down to tie my other roller skate. Meanwhile, Tiffany had caught up with me, and slid into me as she sat on the bench. I pushed back at her playfully. When I finished tying my skate I sat up to see her smiling at me. It was one of those weird smiles where you knew something was up, but only they knew what it happened to be.

"So get this," Tiffany said. "I was just talking to Rachel Hamilton, the spoiled rich girl who was in our class last year. You know who I'm talking about right?"

"Right," I said.

"Well anyway," Tiffany said. "She just got a whole new wardrobe for the school year, because she kind of outgrew it, if you know what I mean." She made huge mock boobs with her hands in front of her chest. "Turns out she's giving hers away to people she likes."

"So…"

"So we thought about what you said with sharing our shoes earlier, and Danielle got us invited over to her house next weekend to let us all go through her old stuff," Tiffany said. "Since we're all around the same size and all. Won't that be fun?"

"I thought you hated her clothes," I said. "For that matter, I thought you hated her."

Tiffany's smile disappeared. "I meant for you." She paused waiting for my reaction, but I gave her none. "She's got some pretty nice things you could have for yourself."

"Tiffany…" I glanced around. "I don't know how much longer I'll be doing this."

"Well at least consider it," Tiffany said. "You got a week to think about it."

"Okay," I said. "I'll think about it, but no promises."

"Good enough for me," Tiffany said.

Tiffany pushed away a bit, and started to exchange her shoes for roller skates. I looked around the place, and tried to spot people I knew. Tawny and Megan were happily skating near each other. Danielle, Tracy and Vanessa were over in the food court talking to a group of boys around our age. I recognized two of the boys, but none of them I knew well enough to hide from them.

The older kids were settling into routine as well. Lynne happened to be warming up a corner booth with some guy she had wrapped around her finger. Rebecca passed in a blur before me, chasing after some other girls she knew. Melanie walked around proudly hanging off of Steve's arm, while my brother desperately tried to get noticed by Kate. I was actually rooting for my brother to win her affection. After all, Kate was a great catch, and now she happened to be single.

Tiffany finished lacing up her roller skates. She slipped her hand into mine, and pulled me up from the bench. We awkwardly stepped in tiny little steps over the carpet, and tried not to fall flat on the hardwood floor. Then we squeezed into the crowd and slowly we got into rhythm, skating next to each other around the rink. Together we flew around the rink, our clothes shining in the odd lighting. I think it was the happiest moment of the night for both of us.

Meanwhile, I couldn't get my mind away from what Megan had said. With my bottom still a little sore from the shot I got a week before, I still wondered if I had made the right decision. After all, it was my life. How long could I go one way before it was too late to go the other? Did I make the right choice for me, or for everyone else? I looked for some kind of reassurance, and I found it right next to me.

Tiffany smiled, and gripped my hand tighter as we burned around the rink. Even if I didn't ever put on female attire again, she loved me, and I still had the best summer of my life that year. I learned a lot about myself and those around me. My new friends accepted me either way I went with my life, while my old friends I never bothered to call again. I could sleep at night knowing my family loved and supported me as a person, not as a gender.

---

 
 
To Be Continued in Seasons of Bailey: Autumn...