I hope everyone enjoys this offering to the great folks here at BC. Still trying to work out where I'd really like to go with all of this so your comments and suggestions are appreciated. I know what happens is not legal in the real world, but I thought it might be an interesting punishment.

I licked the cut in my lip for what had to be the fiftieth time. I relished the pain of it, and even wore the puffy cheek with honor. The cut in my lip and the black eye really didn't fit with the suit I wore. I looked at my hands as I again teased the cut with my tongue.

I smiled, seemingly at the cuts in my hands. I'd bruised the knuckles on my right hand against someone's teeth, and the other had gotten one of the studs from a collar stuck in it. It had been a group of punks that I'd been fighting last week, but that didn't matter. It was the fight that I enjoyed. Dropping an opponent with a well placed knee to the groin or a forehead to their nose was just a bonus.

For the first time I really looked beyond the little scars and the new cuts and examined my hands. They were small for my size, which wasn't that big to begin with. That's part of the reason I started fighting. At 4'10" I was officially termed a midget.

If I'd had the musculature people usually associate with 'little people' they might have left me alone. Nope. Pencil-necked-geek comes to mind.

I was 105 pounds, and had no hope of bulking up. For some reason I was blessed to be one of those individuals that never bulk up, they just get stronger. Not that I was bench-pressing a truck, but I was able to hold my own.

For all that my last name is Smith, I am pretty sure I have a good portion of Irish blood in me from somewhere. I have the red hair and milky complexion, at least.

My lawyer nudged me and I looked up. The defendant's table was empty for the first time in three hours and he was making his way through the opening in the half wall that separated the gallery from the court proper. He made his way over to the table and sat down. I joined him and decided to look at the man who would be deciding my fate.

My parents were the only ones still sitting in the benches, and one of the glorified security guards closed the door. Then something strange happened: he locked the door, and then went and did the same to the one which the judge had entered through what seemed an eternity ago.

"Aaron, how many times have you been in my court for assault?"

"Fourteen times, your honor."

"Fourteen times. You've spent almost a year in juvenile detention since the age of eleven. Somehow it doesn't seem to me that sending you to the detention center again will do any good, since eight of the times I saw you were for fighting in the detention center."

I knew that Judge Anderson really didn't want to hear anything from me right now so I kept my mouth shut.

"It seems that your violence against women is escalating."

"That's only because you have to do more damage to convince them to stay down, your honor. A swift kick to the boys takes the fight out of most men," I said with a smirk.

Judge Anderson paled. Point to me.

"Aaron, I'm hearing rumors."

What's going on? "You shouldn't believe everything you hear."

"Hard not to, given your past."

"Look, I fought off a group of thugs last week. Simple as that. Sure, I sent a couple of the girls to the hospital, but they fought back. It was a fair fight."

"Aaron, no fight you're involved in is fair. Have you ever lost?"

Normally I'd be right there telling him that the last time I lost I'd been ten years old and they'd put me in the hospital. For some reason people are convinced I am gay. Now, the fact that I'm aroused by guys has nothing to do with it.

When I admitted this to a 'friend', he cornered me with his older brother and some of their high school friends. When I got out of the hospital I rectified the situation. I wasn't ever going to be hurt like that again.

To date I hadn't been.

"You need a change of attitude, Aaron. You need a change of life. So, with the agreement of your parents I've come up with a...unique...punishment."

I looked back at my mom, but she turned away from me. My dad, however, looked me in the eyes. I'd gotten good over the years at reading the nuances in his looks of disapproval. This one said, clear as day, that I was going to hate this punishment.

"Starting next Monday, you will be attending a new school. You will be under a modified house arrest as well. Should you choose to keep presenting the same old Aaron Smith to the world, then you are not allowed to leave the confines of your house. You will be wearing a GPS anklet. You will be using the online portal for your new school. You will be allowed one visitor per week."

"Where's the choice in that?" I said on the border of indignance. Only the border, mind you, since I didn't want a contempt charge again on top of my other punishments.

"I was getting to that. I've been known to hand down appropriate and creative punishments before. In this case I really feel it's appropriate. Two of the girls you beat last week are still in a coma."

The fact that one of them had been the one who gave me the black eye didn't enter into it, I'm sure, but hey, it made it even in my book. You hurt me, I stop you. Period.

"You have something to say about it?"

"Those girls were as ready to beat the crap out of me as any of the guys."

"You started that fight, Aaron. It's time you learned a different way to approach things than with your fists. If you choose to leave the house, you will do so as a girl. You will attend school as a girl. You will go to the movies as a girl. As far as anyone in your new school is concerned, you will be a girl."

"You can't do that! It's not legal."

"There is nothing in the legal code that prevents me from specifying dress to you. In prison, we tell you exactly what to wear. Think of it as giving a little leeway in our proscriptions. What style of clothing is up to you, as long as you wear feminine styles and cuts."

I looked back at my dad, the one I figured would have the greatest problem with this, and he just nodded at me. I guess it was more palatable to him that I be a girl attracted to guys than a guy attracted to them.

"Those are my only two choices? How long?"

"To your first question, yes. Those are the two choices you have: dress and act as a demure girl, or stay home. As for how long, we'll be reviewing this after the school year is over to determine how much longer you have to continue."

Nine months! "Send me to Juvie, your honor. Please."

"That is not an option. This is my sentence. The bailiff will fit you with a tracking anklet and you'll be able to return home with your parents."

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I still wore the anklet. I just wasn't going to go out of the house, well not in the way that they wanted me to. School was over for the week, and I have to admit that it was an interesting experience to say the least.

I played with my braid as I thought about it. I always kept my hair in a thick braid. I thought of it as my own personal queue, without the forehead shaving. It was about two inches in diameter and three feet long. I wrapped it around my neck when I fought to provide some protection there, and it had saved me a couple of times already.

Of course the braid was part of the problem right now. Everyone in the school, at least in my classes, thought I was a girl. That could be because I was registered as a girl. After I brought it up to mom on Monday, I'd been forbidden from correcting people. That was part of the punishment.

When some of the girls found out I'd never cut my hair, I became a bit of a sensation. Apparently I had the longest hair in the school. I didn't care to tell them that it was actually longer than I was tall when I let it loose.

I hated most aspects of my physical appearance, but one of the few I took pride in was my hair.

It was also the bane of my existence currently.

It had all started during chemistry on Monday...

"I'd like everyone online and in class today to welcome AJ Smith to class. She'll be with us through the end of this year. AJ, why don't you introduce yourself to the class?"

Classes were held in a hybrid video and classroom chat session. The students in the classroom shared a single camera at the front of the room. The students online were split into multiple windows on a projection screen everyone in the classroom could see.

Even so, there were only ten people in the classroom and another five online including me. Most of my classes were small like this one.

"I'm under house arrest because I was arrested for assault..."

I didn't want to make friends in this school. I didn't tell them that I was a boy, but I let them know that I was the proverbial bad-boy...er bad-girl. I'd already done this five other times today, so I was emphasizing points with the tip of my braid and then I started twirling it a bit as I got to the end of the over-rehearsed speech.

"How long is your hair? Is that really your hair?" The girl who asked the question was another of the online students like I was. She had a darker complexion than most of the other students and really thick curly hair that was either dark brown or light black.

I smiled for the camera and I slowly displayed the entire length of it until it was obvious that it went into the back of my head. I gave a hard enough jerk at that point to snap my head around.

"My braid is three feet long. Well, three feet, two inches, and three sixteenths of an inch long."

"That's so cool. When was the last time you had your hair cut?"

"Never, except for a few trims here and there..."

"AJ, Jasmine, that's enough from you ladies for now. You two can gossip about hair secrets on your own time."

The teacher had a smile on his face, but his tone was firm. I blushed to the roots of my hair, and I was glad when I noticed that Jasmine did the same.

Class was the normal introduction that you get at the beginning of any high school course. After the class ended, I was about to log out, as this was my last class of the day, when Jasmine pinged me requesting a private chat session. I shrugged my shoulders and accepted. All private sessions using the school's system were recorded. It’s supposed to keep our hormones in check or some such nonsense.

"Hey, AJ. That was my last class of the day, how 'bout you?"

"Yep. I was just going to log off and do some homework."

"Great. Can I come over and we could do some homework together?"

"I'm under restriction for a while. I can only have visitors once a week. Not sure I want to blow that on Monday."

She got a strange look on her face. "You mean you were really arrested for assault?"

"Yeah."

"Who did you attack?"

"Whole gang of leather bound freaks."

At that, her eyes got a little large. "That was you?"

"What was me?"

"Kelly's brother is really into the whole industrial rock scene. She said that he told her that his entire group of friends were attacked by some midget from hell."

"Well, I am only 4'10" so I guess that name applies," I said with a smirk. I loved my reputation.

"Damn, girl. Richard is like 6'11" or something. Well, at least 6'5"."

"When the primary target is at eye level, makes it a lot easier to hit."

She laughed at this. Hey, I could get to like this girl. She was cool, and there were few cool people at my old school.

"So, when can I come over?"

I said something about thinking it over, and signed off.

Tuesday after class it was worse.

"AJ, this is Kelly, the girl who I told you about."

Kelly was the opposite of Jasmine. Blonde, blue eyes, I figured she'd probably be leggy and tall as well. I hated her immediately.

"Hi."

"So, you beat up my brother and his friends, huh?"

"Yep."

"Cool. He deserved it. He was a real punk before that. It put him even more in his place when I told him you were a girl. He remembers the braid apparently," she said with a giggle.

"Well, glad to be memorable."

"You know, AJ, you really don't seem like that big of a bad ass," Jasmine said.

"Jasmine!" Kelly said in indignation.

"Well, what would you call her?"

"Um, well, now that you mention it...kick...um...okay. Bad ass."

"I'm right here, ladies."

That set them off giggling again, and I joined in with them. I was laughing, though, not giggling.

"That's my point, AJ. You sort of fade into the background, in a good way. You don't seem to...swagger? Yeah, swagger."

"When you're as good as I am, there's no need to swagger."

"Wow, conceited much?" Jasmine asked.

"I haven't lost a fight in five years."

Their eyes bugged out at this.

"Girl, that's the thing. You talk a good game...when you remember. Usually you're just a normal girl in class."

"Yeah, and so I suggested to Jasmine that maybe we need to perform an intervention."

I got a little worried at this, "Intervention?"

"You explain it to her, Kelly. It's your idea after all." Jasmine didn't seem too convinced with whatever idea that Kelly had concocted.

"So, what I was thinking was that the whole tomboy thing needs to go. You act tough, but there is someone special waiting to come out. I can feel it. I want to perform a makeover on you."

"I'll think about it."

I'd signed off and hadn't accepted a direct connection from either of them for the rest of the week. The problem was that I was seriously considering their offer. Sure, Kelly grated along my nerves like rusty rebar, but Jasmine wasn't half bad. If I had to put up with Kelly to be friends with Jasmine–so be it.

But a makeover? I was still in my house because I refused to go out dressed as a girl. Because of that, I could only have one person into my house per week. Did I really want that one person to be Kelly? And did I truly want her to see I was really a boy?
I was staring at the ceiling some more, and thinking some more, when my mom knocked on the door.

"Aaron?"

"It's AJ now, didn't you hear?" I said bitterly.

"There's a Kelly at the door. Did you want to see her?"

Crap. I jumped out of bed to grab the sweatshirt I was wearing earlier. It was baggy and would hide my apparent lack of curves. I made sure that my other clothing was in the hamper and that my room was more or less clean and turned to my mom.

"Yeah, let her come up."

I was a little excited at what might happen next. Why was I excited? She was about to try and make me into a girl.

"Hey, AJ."

"Hey, Kelly. Look. This really isn't me. I'm just not the girly type."

"Neither was I. But I figure you just need a good teacher. Jasmine helped me, so I've decided it's my turn to lend a hand."

I sighed and shrugged my shoulders. "Okay, I guess."

She squealed and jumped up and down a couple of times. I smiled at her.

"Have you ever considered cutting your hair?"

I think my shocked look told her what she needed to know.

"It was just a suggestion."

"A bad one. I really like my hair. It's about the only thing I really like about myself."

"Well, you have pretty green eyes, and wonderful bone structure. I'd kill for your face and skin."

I smirked and shook my head.

"No really. You have open pores and clear skin. Your tone is even and will only need the lightest of base if at all. I mean, you have the sort of face where you could get away with a lip gloss and maybe some eye shadow for a night clubbing. As soon as your black eye fades, that is."

"I'm only sixteen. When will I be going clubbing?"

"Not to mention under house arrest."

My expression must have darkened because she started stumbling over herself to apologize, "I didn't mean..."

"Kelly, you are the only person I get to have over this week. So, can we get this started? I want to get it over with so we can maybe figure something more fun to do."

Kelly got a bit uncomfortable and looked anywhere but at me, "I'm sorry if you thought that..."

"Huh?"

"You and I..."

"You're not my type, Kelly."

"Jasmine?"

"I like boys."

"Really? But I thought..."

"What did you think?"

"Well, that you were macho or something. Fighting and all."

I couldn't help it. I laughed. I guess it made sense in her world where everything was cut and dried, but the real world rarely ever conformed to that ideal.

"Kelly, I've always liked boys as long as I recognized that there was such a thing as physical attraction. Nothing but. That's..." I was about to let slip part of the real truth. I am gay. But to tell her that, I'd have to tell her I was a boy.

Easier to be the girl she thought me for the moment.

"So what do you have planned?"

"Well, I'd love to get you to a mall to try a bunch of styles on you, but barring that, I'd like to do your makeup and teach you how to do it on your own."

I sighed again.

"Okay, fine."

She started in on my face. I sat there and let her work me over.

"Is there a specific reason my back is to the mirror?"

"Yes, because it is easier for me to work with your dresser behind you."

I had a short dresser with a big mirror on it. It was the main place I stared at my face. I can tell you where every scar there came from.

She kept up a steady stream of chatter that I paid as much attention to as she did, which is to say not much at all.

"So, are you ready to see?"

I was, but I didn't want to let her know that so I shrugged and turned around.

There was a pretty teenager in the mirror and I turned around quickly. I felt stupid as I turned back to the mirror. Yes, it was me. I could see myself in the features...but wow.

I mean, seriously wow.

Kelly must have plucked my eyebrows at some point during the makeup application, but I didn't notice it. I had a pretty good pain tolerance. They'd gone from a fairly thick mess into an elegant curve. My eyes seemed to pop from my face, and the color on my lips simply shimmered.

"AJ, I hate you even more right now. You're prettier than I am."

"Huh?"
"I mean, you're a boy and you make a better girl than I do."

"Um..."

She giggled at me.

"Don't worry, AJ. I'm not going to tell anyone. You can't tell on the camera. The lighting and resolution defeat that, but no girl ever lived in this room."

"Thanks, I think."

"When I came in here, and saw you were a boy..."

"I'm gay, Kelly."

"I got that, AJ. Though, if you were a girl, then that makes...would make you straight like me."

I laughed at the thought.

I really liked the way the makeup looked. On impulse I gave Kelly a hug. She tensed up for a moment and then relaxed into it.

"What was that for?"

"You not taking my crap. Can you show me how to put this on?"

"Of course, since that's why I came."

We went through half of the cleaning supplies she'd brought, but by the end of the evening I'd perfected the simple makeup that she put on me the first time.

I was really sad to see her leave.

If I could always look like the girl I'd seen in the mirror...

After Kelly left, I went in search of my mom.

"Mom? If I dress as a girl, do I have the same restrictions on people coming over?"

"No, that's only a restriction on you if you keep with your current presentation. If you present as a girl, then the restrictions are removed."

"Okay."

Now I had even more to think about. I lay down on my bed staring at the ceiling. I really needed to paint something up there more interesting than the flat, smooth, white paint I saw.

There are two things I'd like to clarify about my appearance. The first being that I do not have dwarfism, or whatever the medical term for it is. I am proportionally limbed. Most doctors think that I had delayed puberty or something like that.

Because of this, the second thing I wanted to clarify was that I have very little body hair. This makes me happy as I have never had to shave, but it also upsets me as I'd really like to have a little goatee to lend to my evil appearance.

Okay, so my appearance isn't evil, and that's the problem.

I stood there in front of my short dresser, looking into the mirror, on that Saturday morning, contemplating my new eyebrows and soft complexion, and I seriously started contemplating cutting for the first time. Not anything ritualistic. Just cutting lines into my face to remove the beauty that everyone else saw there.

There was something else I'd like to cut, but no one else knew about that.

Which reminded me.

I never slept in the bandages, but I wrapped them around my ribs now.

Let's be honest. I was wrapping my chest. It made me appear to be the flat boy that everyone else assumed I was.

I was male, it was obvious, but I was also something else, and I didn't want anyone else to know my shame. I'd read online that gynecomastia could be caused by steroids and other chemicals.

I'd never taken any of those chemicals into my system. I'd never used any of them on my skin. The fact that it might be a symptom of something else...well I simply didn't want to let anyone know. It didn't matter that I was taking my life into my hands in doing it.

I just knew that they'd assume steroids first. I was strong for my size. I had a lot of rage. Sure I didn't have the huge muscles, but things like that don't enter into a mainly emotional argument...most of the time.

I slid my finger along my cheek, imagining where I'd cut if I had a knife. A long swooping curve from the corner of my eye to start...

"Aaron?"

I looked into the mirror, startled, and saw my dad standing in the doorway. I grabbed for my shirt but the damage had already been done.

"Cracked ribs again? Look, I know that the last time you said that you were fine, but I really think we need to take you in to see the doctor."

"Dad, you know how I feel about doctors, and besides, aren't I forbidden from leaving the house as a boy?"

"I'll figure something out. We're not letting you play the tough guy routine this time, Aaron. You're going to see a doctor about this and that's final. The third time I noticed you wrapped up I told myself that the next time...this time you are seeing someone about it."

As you may have noticed, I'd been avoiding seeing a doctor for the past year or so. I just wanted to keep this to myself. Now...well I'd be glad in one way for this to all be out in the open. It was hard to breathe in a fight with how tight I'd had to wrap recently.

I figured that I could tell my dad the truth to try to stop him from figuring out how to get me in front of a doctor, but that would likely only make him want to get me in front of a doctor even more.

Would that be a bad thing? If I was going to see a doctor, it might as well be the right kind, right?

I took a deep breath and removed the bandage. I considered going down to my dad's study and just flashing him, but decided against it. I went down the upstairs hall to my mom's studio.

Now would be a good time to shed a little light on my home life.

Dad is a mathematician. That's the simple answer. He tortures numbers for a living. No, he's not a scientist nor an engineer nor an accountant. Just a number cruncher.

Mom is a clothing designer. She works for some big name fashion house or something. Every few months she talks about striking out on her own, but I think that I am the main reason she never has. I was infamous enough in her mind and I didn't need the added infamy, or the fact that my actions would likely hurt her success.

That is my one true regret about fighting. I've limited how far my mom feels she can go.

My home, right? Dad's study, a nice formal one with books on the shelves, is on the main floor. That's also where we have the home theater, formal dining room, kitchen nook, kitchen, deck, living room, two and a half baths, and a partridge in a pear tree.

There's a guest room somewhere in the mix as well.

Upstairs we have the master bedroom, my room, and my mom's studio.

The house was custom-made for our needs, and a real studio for her was part of the deal: big airy windows and lots of light.

"Mom?"

"What's up, Aaron?"

You may have noticed that my parents call me by my name. That was their way. They both felt that you should tell things like they were, and that included giving things their proper names. They even used the names of waitresses and waiters in restaurants when addressing them.

That meant no pet names for me.

"Um, I've sorta been keeping something from you and dad."

I took off my shirt and began slowly unwrapping the elastic bandage. The way mom was looking at me made me want to cover up. I felt like a specimen of some sort in a Petri dish.

"Aaron...how long have you had breasts?"

I blushed bright red and put on my sweat shirt before answering.

"I don't know. About a year, I think."

"Didn't you think this is something your father and I needed to know?"

"Well...um...I was ashamed and thought that you'd think that I was taking steroids or something, or that I was on hormones, or you know."

"Aaron, you have no need to be ashamed of your body. You always did look pretty in a dress."

"Mom!"

"Well, it's true. That's the main reason I kept having you model my dresses for me–especially with all that red hair of yours."

Something in me glowed at her compliment. I'd secretly thought that she wanted me to cut off my hair. You know, I was supposedly a boy after all. To have her compliment it, however...

"Mom? Do you want me to be a girl?"

"Aaron!? What would give you an idea like that?"

"You had me try on dresses as a little boy, and you like my hair..."

"Aaron, you are my child. I had you try on dresses because I needed someone your size to model them for me. I never really see how a dress looks until it moves. I thought you liked trying on clothing."

I blushed at this. I loved my mom. A lot. I used to spend hours in her studio just watching her work–drawing and cutting and sewing.

"Mom, I tried on clothing because it was spending time with you."

"Oh, Aaron." She began to tear up a bit, so I wrapped her in a hug.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Aaron?"

"Dad's calling a doctor because he thinks I have cracked ribs again. I wanted to let him know it's not cracked ribs."

We broke our embrace and she led me downstairs. "Louis?"

"Yes, Mandy?"

"Our son needs a different type of doctor than you're trying to find."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, he has breasts."

See, they like to call a spade a spade as my granddad used to say.

My dad turned back to the phone, "Doctor Sparks? Looks like I need might need you instead of another specialist."

He listened for a few moments and then responded, "Yes, I understand, and no I don't think it's an emergency any more. He has breasts apparently that he's been wrapping up...how big?"

He looked at my mom as he said this.

I just pulled my sweatshirt tight. My dad's jaw dropped a bit but then he regained his composure.

"Big enough that he should be wearing a bra," my dad said and then waited for a response. "Oh really? Okay. See you then."

Dad turned to me with a strange expression on his face. "Apparently this could be a sign of a severe underlying medical condition. He mentioned tumors or developmental issues. He wants to check to make sure that everything is fine."

"Um, he can't do that here, can he?"

"No, so we need to take you into the hospital. He's expecting us in a couple of hours."

"I'm not dressing as a girl."

"I know, that's why we need a couple of hours. I need to verify that it's okay for me to take you out of the house to go to a hospital."

"Aaron, while we wait can I play with your hair?"

I nodded to my mom and we went into her bedroom. I sat down on her bed and she began to comb out my braid. This was something we did on a fairly regular basis, and I really appreciated the help. My hair was long enough that it was difficult for me to manage on my own.

The braid is about the size of my wrist for most of its length. It is below my waist that it really starts to thin out, and it quickly goes down to half its normal width before I simply tie it off. I have a tail of about three inches at the end.

We brushed it on my mother's bed, and it covered most of the king-sized bed before we were done.

"Rapunzel let down his hair, huh, Mandy?"

"Dad!"

"Yes, Louis, he did."

"Mom!"

They laughed and I tried to keep strong and indignant, but I broke down and laughed with them. It just felt too good getting my hair brushed to really stay mad. It's a good thing too, because with my hair spread out like it was, it was a little difficult to move my head. Not the weight–that is only about a pound and a half–the sheer bulk of it.

"Aaron, can I try a new hairstyle on you?"

"Let me ask something first. Is the Judge okay with me going to the hospital as a boy?"

I heard dad sigh, but couldn't see his expression. "The Judge is fine with it, as it is a potentially severe medical condition. He didn't feel right denying you medical attention."

"Mom, dad, why are you guys pushing this so hard?"

"Well, Aaron, we don't know what to do with you. Neither of us want to send you to military school. You only got in fights when we sent you to the high school for delinquents last year. We're down to our last straw and this is it. We want you to try to at least act properly. If that requires you presenting as a girl then so be it. If you can do it without presenting as a girl, then we would be fine with that too. We just want you to stop getting in fights at the drop of a hat. You are always well behaved here at home."

I began to cry silently. I know. Boys are supposed to be tough. I don't care. Their words cut me to the core. I was obedient at home. It's just when I got outside that the anger at the way people treated other people sort of took over. I had to change their behavior.

Well, maybe that's where it started. That didn't excuse me from putting people in the hospital, though. Me. I had hurt someone else as badly as the incident that had first convinced me to learn how to fight. The pain of that day still lived in me. How could I have done that to someone else?

"Mom, I really screwed up this time, didn't I?"

"Aaron?"

"Those girls. I've really hurt people before, but I've never put them in a coma. It only just occurred to me that I have become what I hated about Justin and Jeremy. I should never have told Jeremy that I was gay, I know that, but their reaction to it...and now I'm doing the same thing: beating people until they just don't wake up."

"They're not dead, Aaron," my dad said.

"No, but when they wake up they will be broken. Just like me."

My dad wasn't really the hugging type, so he sat down next to me and took one of my hands.

"It's okay, Aaron."

"No, it's not. I DID this."

"Will it make you feel better if we visit them while we're at the hospital? If it's okay with their families that is." Mom was always ready with a solution. Usually they were good ones.

"That sounds like a great idea to me."

"ay, then, hold still while I finish with your hair. We'll stop by and visit the girls when we're done with the doctor."

"Just a moment more...and done."

I did my usual ritual of running my hand along the length of my braid. When standing up it fell to my mid thigh. When my hair was loose it literally dragged on the floor. Yes, I really like my hair.

We went and got into the car and drove the twenty minutes to the hospital. Our family practitioner was actually at the hospital. I know it's more common for them to be in clinics or some such, but not ours. Okay, so I don't know that they're usually in clinics. I assume.

We went up to the eighth floor and checked in with the nurse at the reception counter. I went over to sit and wait, but I had only taken a couple of steps when my name was called.

"Aaron Smith?"

"That's me," I said and followed the nurse back to get weighed and measured.

"112 pounds. Hmm, looks like you've grown an inch since the last time you were in here. That puts you at 4'11"."

I was shocked to say the least. I'd been 4'10" tall for as long as I can remember. Okay, well, not that long. At least since I was in the hospital, so five years. I'd been avoiding doctors and hospitals whenever I could since then.

The daze I felt lasted me until I was in the exam room and already changed into one of those stupid paper gowns.

"Well, Aaron, it seems you've got a bit of a conundrum for us."

"Hey, Dr. Sparks."

"If you wouldn't mind dropping the top of the gown so I could have a look?"

He examined my chest, and gave me a general physical.

"Well, you seem to be healthy enough. Probably a little light on your muscular development. I'm going to send a nurse in to draw some blood, and then I have you scheduled for an MRI. We're going to scan your entire body just to see if we can determine the source of the problem."

"Okay, Dr. Sparks."

"You'll need to stay in the gown for the MRI, but it will all be over soon enough."

Dr. Sparks left me alone in the room. I sat there and waited for the nurse. The door opened and a nurse stepped in.

"Oh, I'm sorry, miss. I must have the wrong room."

She left and closed the door again. She was back a few seconds later. "Are you Aaron Smith?"

"You can call me AJ if it helps."

"I'm sorry if this is offensive, but you really don't look like a boy."

"A friend of mine did a makeover on me yesterday."

She looked at me a bit strangely.

"My looks are part of the reason I'm here today. Apparently my face isn't the only feminine thing about me."

She glanced at my chest and I smirked at her.

"Yes, that is another big part of it."

"Well, let's get some blood drawn."

"Sounds good to me."

The blood flowing into the vial fascinated me, and I watched it, mesmerized. I wondered idly if it would look similar if I cut a vein open. Yes, I'm messed up. It is what I wondered though.

She took three vials of blood total and then had me fold my arm around a cotton ball. After that she helped me situate my gown to almost completely cover me and led me to the MRI lab.

This next bit was a lot of boring staring at the ceiling two inches in front of my face, as I was moved back and forth through a giant metal doughnut.

Then I was done and getting dressed. My parents joined me again at this point.

Dr. Sparks began as soon as we were situated, "I'll have a specialist look over your MRI results, and we'll likely get the report back late Monday. I'll review it and then we can meet again on Tuesday to discuss the results.

"The family of one of the girls doesn't want you to visit. They feel you've done enough harm. The other girl hasn't had any visitors as her family is out of the country, and the hospital staff thought it would be fine if you stopped by to visit."

No visitors? That would suck, even if you were in a coma.

We took the elevator down a couple of floors. Her room was off in a corner by itself. My imagination painted it as a dark corner, but the light there was actually a bit better than on the rest of the floor.

We entered the room and I looked at the figure in the bed. I had done this. Her face was a puffy mess, and her arm and leg were in casts. She looked so small in that bed, but I remembered her as being so much bigger than me in the heat of the moment.

I began to cry as I walked over to the side of her bed.

"I'm so sorry. If I could do anything to change this I would. I never meant to cause this sort of harm."

"I thought she was beaten up," said a male voice from behind me.

I quickly turned around, my hair whipping out behind me. There might not have been a weight on the end of it, but three feet of hair smacking you in the face can have an impact.

"Oh, crap, I'm so sorry."

"You should register that hair as a lethal weapon," he said. He was covering his face so I couldn't get a good look at it, but the rest of him was really nice looking.

"I'm sorry. You startled me."

"Don't worry about it. I should have been here sooner. I only found out that she'd been hurt a couple of days ago."

"Where were you? Outer Mongolia?"

"Close. I was setting up a water purification plant in Uganda."

I boggled at him. Was he serious?

"Yes, I was really in Uganda setting a water treatment plant up. I'm a Civil Engineer."

I had to add a couple of years to his apparent age, which was too bad since he was really very cute. Unfortunately I doubted that my parents would be okay with me dating someone ten years older than me, even if it turned out he was gay. Most of the really good looking ones are straight, unfortunately.

"So, how has my sister been?"

Sister? Oh crap.

"I'm sorry. The hospital said no one had visited her and thought it would be fine if I...I'll be leaving."

"Why would you leave?"

"Because I'm responsible."

"What, you were the one who convinced her to go out? You lead her down a dark alley?"

"No," I said, unable to meet his eyes, "I beat her up. Well, her and about seven other people who were with her."

He started to laugh.

"Hey, it's not funny."

"A cute little, and I emphasize little, thing like you beat up my sister and her friends?"

I almost missed what he said, lost in the fact that he'd just called me cute.

"I may be small, long shanks, but yes, I did. And no, I'm not proud of it. I picked a fight with a bunch of...I just did a stupid thing, okay?"

"I should know more than anyone that my sister can be a bit trying. I also know that she is a black belt in Judo."

"Just cause she is shodan doesn't mean much."

"She is actually yodan."

A 4th degree black belt in Judo? Not bad. It explained the throw she'd given me in the midst of the mess.

"I'm really sorry for hurting her so badly. I was trying to eliminate opponents and she kept wading back in. That doesn't excuse my actions and I shouldn't have done what I did in the first place."

"You faced off against eight people?"

"No, it was more than that, but the rest ran away after I dropped a couple of the guys."

He got a thoughtful look on his face.

"I know a guy who is looking for some female MMA fighters to coach. You would probably fit well into that arena, and it would get you off the streets..."

"Thank you for the offer, but we're trying to get AJ to stop fighting," my mom said.

The guy looked over at my mother, as if noticing her for the first time. This made me blush for some reason.

"Look, Ma'am. Mixed Martial Arts isn't just fighting. It's about discipline and keeping it in the ring. Your girl is going to fight whatever you do. This might just focus her on a reason. At the very least, it will keep her from getting killed in a street brawl where someone decided to bring a gun."

There was a haunted look in his eyes when he said this.

"What's your name?" my dad asked.

"Shawn Harris."

"Well, Shawn, AJ has a criminal record, and so I doubt your friend would want to get involved with her."

I liked it when Shawn referred to me as a girl, but I just didn't know how I felt about my dad doing the same thing. I know it's a bit silly, but I'm allowed a little silliness in my life, aren't I?

"As long as it's not murder, then you should be fine. Here's his card. Just think about it, okay?"

I took the card from Shawn. The name on it was Felipe DesJardin.

"We'll leave you to your sister, Shawn. We need to get AJ home."

"Bye, Shawn. It was nice meeting you."

"See you some other time, AJ, AJ's parents."

"Bye, Shawn," my mom said with a knowing look on her face.

We were almost back to the car before my mom spoke up.

"So, Shawn was good looking."

I blushed a deep scarlet color, and my parents laughed. Yes, he was, but I didn't want them pointing that out.

"Well, let's get you home before you turn into a pumpkin, Aaron," my dad said.

"I thought I was Rapunzel, not Cinderella."

We got in the car and drove home. I was left with no more answers about my future, or what was wrong with me, but now I had some options for that future that I'd not even considered before.

"Time to get up, Aaron."

My dad's quiet voice woke me from my slumber, and got me, bleary-eyed and incoherent, out of bed and downstairs.

We had a ritual on Mother's Day that my dad and I had performed for as long as I could remember. He'd get me up at about four in the morning and we'd begin the process of making breakfast.

I know what you're thinking; pretty lame ritual, right? You make a couple of half-burnt pancakes and some concentrated orange juice and call it good.

Well, for you that might work, but my dad and I did things a little differently. We'd practice cooking the rest of the year so that we could make something special for mom on her day.

This year it would be Eggs Benedict with Hollandaise sauce from scratch–my idea. I liked it, and since we would be making enough for the three of us, it only made sense to make something we would all enjoy.

Of course, there was another reason why my dad and I did this. It was his opportunity to get me alone once a year for a couple of hours and really talk to me.

Sure, we talked at other times during the year, but this was our time–just him and me.

"Dad? How are you so calm about all of this?"

"All of what?"

I gestured toward my chest and tilted my head. I mean wasn't it the most important thing to everyone right now?

"Aaron, to tell you the truth, I didn't sleep at all last night."

"What?"

"I know, hard to believe that other people have lives out of your sight. It's true. I am so worried about what it could be. We weren't with you during the exam because we were talking to the nurse, and then Dr. Sparks, about what this could all mean."

"Oh."

"Aaron? If I ask you a question, will you hear me out?"

"I guess."

"We found out yesterday that one of the main causes of gynecomastia in children your age is steroid use."

"Dad!?"

"I have to know. They're testing your blood, but will you tell me the truth anyway?"

I sighed. It was understandable given my short stature and fits of anger that the doctor would go there. I wanted to be angry with my dad, but he just looked concerned.

"I've never used steroids, dad. I admit that I've been tempted, and that there were times when I had the opportunity. That's part of the reason I stopped going to the gym to work out. The other reason got me thrown into Juvie the first time."

"I don't think I heard that side of the story."

"The guy I attacked tried to rape me. He found out I was gay and figured that meant I'd be up for anything he might suggest. When I told him no, he tried to force himself on me."

"Aaron, why didn't you tell us?"

"I tried, but the fact that I smashed one of his testicles sort of took precedence for you at the time."

"You should have made me listen."

I began to cry a bit, "Like you listened when I told you I was gay?"

He set down the spoon he'd been using to stir the Hollandaise and put his arm across my shoulders.

"I was a fool, Aaron. I should have let you know this years ago. For some reason, at the time, I thought that you were telling me that you were sexually active and that some guy had convinced you that it was normal."

"Dad..."

"Let me explain, Aaron. Please."

The pleading in his eyes shut me up, and I simply nodded.

"It wasn't about you at all, Aaron. It was about me. I was so upset when you told me because I remembered a similar experience with my own parents. A friend of mine had convinced me to sleep with him. He told me it was normal for guys to act this way, and that it was healthy.

"Every time we had sex it sickened me. It felt so wrong to me. I tried to tell myself that it was simply something I needed to get over. That it would fade in time. It didn't."

I didn't want to hear about this, but I could see that he needed to tell me. We'd had a very open and honest relationship up to this point, and I didn't want to hurt that.

"I thought that it was that way for everyone, and that gay men were deluding themselves."

"But I never..."

"I realize that, now. I thought it was your friend, Jeremy, and wanted to tell you to stop seeing him. When he beat you up..."

"Daddy..."

"Aaron, it's not your fault, okay? It's my fault you got beat up. I didn't find out enough about you at the time, and I didn't warn you how people can be. That was my job as a father, and I failed completely."

"You didn't fail me, Dad."

Both of us were crying at this point. He tested the sauce and took it off the heat. It wasn't perfect, but it would likely break if we left it on in our current conditions.

"I am willing to support you through whatever happens, all right?"

I nodded.

"And if that means you were born a girl and we never knew about it..."

"What!?"

"Um...yeah, that is a possible reason for your condition."

"Does the doctor know that is the reason?"

"No, which is why I wasn't supposed to let you know about it. Don't tell your mom, all right?"

"Don't tell me what?"

My dad blushed, but looked mom in the eyes, "I let slip that Aaron might be intersexed."

"Oh, that. I was planning on telling him all of the possibilities before we went into the office on Tuesday for the results of the tests."

"And when were you planning on telling me your plan?" dad said with a tone of mock severity.

"About the time that you told me that you let slip a part of it. I guess we should stop trying to keep secrets. Neither of us is very good at it."

I loved to listen to my parents talk. While some of their words might have a bit to them, they were all said with a smile or a roll of the eyes. I knew that they loved me, and that they loved each other even more.

"Mom? Why didn't you guys ever have any more kids?"

Her smile disappeared, and dad walked over to her and took her hand.

"I'm sorry, mom. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, Aaron. You have a right to know. Would you like me to tell him, Mandy?"

"No, Louis, I'm good. I can do it."

"Tell me what? I'm not adopted am I?"

They laughed at this, even though there were some tears in my mother's eyes, she was smiling at me.

"I had a really difficult first pregnancy, but you are definitely mine. Because of some of the problems, I had severe tearing of the uterus. Without our consent, the doctor performed a hysterectomy while you were being delivered by Cesarean."

"But..."

"The doctor lost his license but it was too late at that point. I can't have any more children, Aaron."

"Hey, it's a little gloomy for Mother's Day, isn't it?" dad said, trying to lighten the mood I think.

"Aaron, you are the best thing that could have happened to us. We love you, okay?"

"Mom, did you want a little girl instead of a little boy?"

"No, Aaron. I wanted a little girl in addition to my perfect little boy. What made you think this?"

"Well, you like my hair long, and you put me in your dresses..."

My mother started giggling. "You keep bringing up the dresses, Aaron. Don't you remember that I dressed you in boys' clothing as well? I design clothing for both genders."

I blinked a couple of times. I could vaguely remember...

"Were there a pair of blue shorts and a hoodie one time?"

"Yes, when you were seven or eight."

Why didn't I remember the boys' clothing?

I rubbed a bit at my chest. I'd been running around all day yesterday, and what little of today there was, without binding my chest. My breasts were beginning to get a little sore.

"Chest hurting you?" mom asked me.

"Yeah, a little. My breasts hurt a bit."

"I do not want to listen to this. Okay, you two go figure something out, and I'll finish breakfast."

"But, dad, that's our job together."

He gave me a smile, "Don't worry about it, Aaron. I'm not cutting you out of the loop. I just figure you'll be more comfortable with a little support. That, and you will be a little more modest. If you end up being my daughter, then I'm going to have to insist on modesty from you, AJ."

I didn't know how to take the statement, so I just followed mom up to her room.

"I know most of my bras are not going to fit you, Aaron, but I have something that might work, at least until we have the opportunity to take you shopping for some lingerie."

"Mom!"

"You know what I mean. Until this issue gets resolved, you need to wear bras."

I blushed. This was so mortifying.

"Here, your father got this for me a couple of years ago, thinking that sports bras were all the same. It was too small for me to ever wear it, but it might just fit you."

I let mom help me get it situated. It wasn't perfect, but at least it fit and provided me some support. It was just a little big for me, but not by much. I was probably in a half size between this one and the one smaller.

"Well, it's not perfect, but it should be more comfortable than just walking around without support."

"Yeah, mom, it does feel better. Weird, but better."

"Let's go get some breakfast, Aaron."

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
School was school, which is to say easy. I have no idea why people think that a 4.0 is anything special. All of my homework for the day was done and I was lying on my bed, again looking at the plain white ceiling.

I was beginning to realize that I might need a new hobby. All I'd been doing for years was going out looking for fights. Now that I couldn't do that I was bored. I mean really bored.

I needed to do something...

My computer beeped with a personal session request. I got up and accepted the session.

"Heya, AJ."

"Hi, Kelly."

"So, I see you're not wearing the makeup," she had a slight frown on her face.

"Sorry, I've had a lot on my mind recently."

"Want to get it off your chest?"

"I'd love to, which is part of the problem."

"I don't get it."

"I know. Sorry. I'm dealing with a lot right now."

Kelly tilted her head at me and just looked at me for a moment or two. "There's something different about you, AJ. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something has changed."

"My black eye is fading."

"True, but not that."

"Well, I'm still wearing my braid, so that hasn't changed."

"No, you never change your braid."

I giggled with her.

"Wait, did you just...giggle?"

I just smiled. I wasn't going to respond to so obvious a ploy.

"You're smiling. That's what's different. Do it again."

My jaw dropped. I was...happy. As the realization of this dawned upon me I just began to beam. "I'm happy, Kelly. So I smile. Nothing more than that."

"Yeah, I don't buy it. When you first realized it, you were shocked."

"That's because I haven't really been happy in a while."

"Why not?"

"I don't like myself much. And then I go and get into a fight. In the moment I feel so alive, but afterward I hate myself even more. So I go and seek another fight and so on. Pretty soon you just don't care anymore and all that matters is the next fight."

"You need help, girlfriend."

"AJ is fine, please."

"Okay, AJ, but everyone deserves a nickname every now and then."

"I'll think about it."

"You really need to talk to someone about all this, AJ."

"No, I don't, Kelly. I had mandatory group sessions while in Juvie. And I had court-mandated counselling once. I went to three sessions before I just stopped going. I don't think someone sitting there listening to me bitch about my life is going to fix anything, and it sure as anything won't help the person I'm complaining to."

"You'd be surprised."

"Look, Kelly, I don't believe that counselling is for everyone."

"You just haven't found the right counsellor, AJ."

"Kelly, leave off, okay?"

"So, we're having a guest in chemistry tomorrow."

"A guest?"

"Yeah, this local kid genius. He's been all over the world and he just came back from a trip to Africa. He's going to be talking to us about ecology or something. He's supposed to be really cute."

"Yeah, and he's probably ten years old or something."

"No, he's eighteen so he's perfectly eligible."

"I'm sure that you'll have a great time dating him."

"Oh, don't tell me that you wouldn't love to date a handsome, smart, young, rich scientist?"

I blushed bright red. "Sure, I'd love to, Kelly, but I have a problem that kind of limits my prospects right now."

"What?" she looked concerned.

"Um, hello, I'm a boy."

Kelly blinked at me a couple of times, "Oh, yeah. I forgot."

"You forgot?"

"Yeah, I forgot. You don't really look like a boy right now."

I stuck my tongue out at her.

"Don't act like one either."

I shook my fist at the camera but she just laughed at me.

"So, what does AJ stand for?"

"Anne-Jeanette."

She looked at me strangely. "You have a girl's name?"

"I didn't just say Aaron Joel?"

"No you said Anne-Jeanette."

"Are you sure...?"

"Very."

"Well, I kind of like it. Wherever it came from."

"Mind if I call you that instead of AJ?"

"If you like," I said with a smile and a slight blush.

"Are you sure you're a boy, Anne-Jeanette?"

"Shut up."

We giggled at this, and I was still smiling when she signed off half an hour later. I hadn't noticed my mom standing in the doorway.

"Anne-Jeanette?"

"I don't really like, AJ, mom, and well it just came out when I was talking to Kelly."

"Well, I think that I can handle calling you Anne-Jeanette, but isn't it kind of a mouthful?"

"Well, I guess. I like it though."

"You're not the one who has to say it, Anne-Jeanette."

"And a good thing it is too."

"Well, then, I'll call you AJ when I'm in a rush."

My smile faded from my face. "But I'm really still Aaron, aren't I?"

"Is that really what you want?"

"What I want is irrelevant, mom. Boys and girls are different."

"True, honey, but...well, I love you. Your dad and I are heading out for a couple of hours. You be good, okay?"

She left and I lay back down on my bed and stared up at the ceiling. Hours to go before I could hope to go to sleep and wake up tomorrow. I had nothing to do in the meantime but stare at the ceiling.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
The next day went by in a bit of a blur again, like most days at school seem to, especially when you have something after, like a doctor's appointment, that is eating up all of your attention.

I was only half-paying attention to what the teacher for my chemistry class was saying. But when I saw the person standing next to him, I sort of perked up a bit.

"...So without any further ado, I give you Shawn Harris."

"Hello, Class."

"You're really 18?" I found myself blurting.

"Nice to see you again as well, AJ."

I blushed so hot that I just knew that it would start my hair on fire. I wanted to duck out of the pickup range and log out of the class right there.

"So, conservation. Apparently I'm something of an expert in the subject, even if I don't really feel like it most of the time. My cousin, your teacher, thought that I'd be able to give a more current perspective on the next unit, so he wanted me to come in and share a little bit about what I do..."

I have to say that I wasn't the only one who hung on his every word, but I think I was the only boy to do so. For a moment I worried that I was giving myself away until I realized one very important fact: everyone thought I was a girl.

After that I just relaxed and enjoyed the show. I won't bore you with all the details, since I'm sure that most of you don't want to spend the next hour on a course about water and soil conservation. Something sort of started to dawn on me about halfway through the class. I could literally spend forever listening to Shawn talk about anything.

Chemistry, especially Applied Chemistry like I was taking right now, wasn't one of the things that I really enjoy. To tell you the truth, other than fighting I had no idea what I really enjoyed. After that class though...I think that many more classes like that one and I might find myself wanting to become a scientist if only to have a somewhat intelligent conversation with Shawn.

Unfortunately, I had to leave a bit early to be to my medical appointment on time.

I opened a private session with my teacher, so I wouldn't interrupt the rest of the class. "Mr. Smoot, I have to leave."

"Okay, AJ. See you tomorrow. You can get with me later tonight for the last ten minutes of material."

"Okay. I don't expect my appointment to take more than an hour, so I'll probably be home by four."

"So, if I were to check in on you around six you would be there?"

"Sounds about right."

"Okay, see you tomorrow, AJ."

"See ya, Mr. Smoot."

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
I simply looked out the window of the car as we drove to the hospital and passively followed my parents up to the eighth floor again.

We put the waiting room through its paces and then were shown to Dr. Sparks office.

"Hello, Aaron, Mandy, Louis. How are you feeling today, Aaron?"

"Okay, Dr. Sparks."

"Well, I'd like to let you know what it isn't really quickly. I know you know this already, Aaron, but your blood is clean: No drugs or steroids that we could find. You also don't have any of the pathogens, toxins, or viruses we tested for."

"Okay, does that mean you don't know what I have?"

"I do know. Mostly I was trying to break the ice. There isn't a real easy way to say this, and this is the first time I've ever had to."

"It's not cancer is it?" my mom asked.

"No, AJ is perfectly healthy as far as that goes. She was..."

I knew what he was about to say. Everything started going black. It was my worst fear. I didn't catch any of his sugar coating as he worked up to the one word that I was dreading the entire time.

"...intersexed."

"But, I'm a boy. Tell him, dad. I'm Aaron Joel Smith. Tell him. Why won't you tell him?" I began to cry while looked back and forth between my mom and dad.

It wasn't fair. I wasn't supposed to have to deal with this. It was all supposed to be temporary. I would be a girl for the school year and then, afterward, I would be Aaron again.

"AJ, this isn't the end of the world. There might be other options for us besides...I'm not relating this well. AJ, beyond it being occluded, internally you have all of the organs that any female your age would. According to the MRI, you also have two sets of gonads. Without doing some testing, we won't be able to tell which ones are active, but from the physical exam I did, it at least looks like you show signs of maturing as a female. This in addition to your 46,XX karyotype..."

The doctor took a deep breath before continuing, "You haven't yet had a full period, or so it seems. If you can have one, it is likely you will start soon. Because the opening is completely obstructed this would likely be a real problem, and could cause sepsis or even death. Whatever we're going to do, we have to decide soon."

"Decide what?" I asked through my tears.

"Whether to perform a vaginoplasty or a hysterectomy."

I almost made a mistake in that moment. I almost, before I thought it through, opened my mouth and told the doctor what I wanted. In fact, I opened my mouth to speak and then looked over at my mom.

She was one of my two friends in this world. Could I really do something like that to her, knowing what the same procedure had cost her? If there was even the slightest chance of me being a mother and giving her grandchildren, could I deny that to her?

For some reason, the thought of being a mother lit a fire deep within me. I was so conflicted in that moment. I wanted to be a boy, but I also wanted to be a mother. To be for someone else what this beautiful and special woman had been for me.

"I don't know, Dr. Sparks. How can I be expected to make that decision?"

"AJ, I'd like you to speak to a friend of mine before you make a decision. He might be able to help you clarify your feelings on the issue."

"Not a psychologist."

"Actually, no. He's a licensed therapist. He specializes in what's called humanistic therapy. That is to say that he's there to help you understand who you are as a person. I'd like you to spend a couple of hours a day with him over the next couple of weeks. Also, we need to monitor your temperature and other factors during that time. If it comes down to it, I need to know what your current choice is so we can do it in an emergency."

"Um...could you just open me up enough for a period to, you know, pass through?"

"I couldn't do that in good conscience."

"And yet you'd leave me this way in 'good conscience'?"

"AJ, the female body telegraphs when it's going to have a period. If we monitor you closely, there should be very little threat to your safety."

"Then why do I have to make a choice?"

"Just in case we miss something."

"Doctor, I want to be able to have children. Whichever choice lets me do that."

"There are no guarantees either way, AJ."

"Then I simply have to think about it."

I got up and walked out of the room without another word.

I only went down a couple of floors. The not so dark corner called to me and I slipped into the room unseen, or at least I hoped. The girl still seemed to be asleep, so I began to spill everything to her.

I told her about the punishment and growing breasts. I told her about Jeremy and being put in a coma. I told her that I was gay. Once I started, I just couldn't seem to stop. I was sobbing and letting everything out. In the end I just laid my head down on the bed as I finished up with learning that I was actually a girl, and now I had to decide to give up my life to be the girl I physically was, or to take it back, but give up on having children.

I lay there sobbing for a few moments, not expecting an answer, and hoping it would take hours before my parents found me.

"Well, I usually prefer to give advice only to people I'm on a first name basis with. I'm Theresa by the way. What's your name?"

I stood up, shocked. Theresa was sitting up in bed looking at me.

"You're awake?"

"I should hope so, otherwise I'd be talking in my sleep."

"No, I mean…"

"I know. Sorry if I ruined things for you."

"No, it's great…only I should be leaving. I shouldn't be here. I'm really sorry."

"I don't mind you being here. Actually, they're only keeping me for another week for observation. They want to make sure I don't relapse or anything."

"No, I meant…never mind. I shouldn't be here. I really shouldn't"

"At least tell me your name before you go."

"I'm AJ."

I made as if to leave but she didn't let my movement stop her.

"So, you're the one my little brother's been talking about."

"Shawn?"

"Yep. Unless I have another brother I don't know about."

"He's talking about me?"

"Look who has a crush on my brother. It's so cute."

I just blushed.

"Yes, you're just about the only thing he wants to talk about, which I have to say is a slight improvement over his usual subject material."

"I like listening to him speak…I mean…"

"You are so cute, you know that, AJ? Do you want my advice, or did you simply want a sympathetic ear?"

"I want some advice, I guess."

"Well, do you want your life to be easy, or do you want it to be hard?"

"What do you mean?"

"You are a gay male, or a straight female, AJ. Those are the choices you are making. No matter how much we would like it to change, it will be easier for you to be straight than to be gay. Even if that means you will be a woman if you do it."

"But, I'm a boy."

"Technically, you're a girl who thinks she's a boy."

Something in my thinking shifted. I had been looking at this wrong. Well, at least a part of it. Physically, penis to the contrary, I was female. So, either I wanted to transition to being a boy, instead of the accidental tomboy I'd been my entire life, or I wanted to be the girl I was.

My life was so weird.

"How have you been sleeping? You look a bit out of it," Theresa asked me.

"I've been so worried about what the doctor would say the past couple of days that I've been having nightmares. I'm only sleeping in fits and starts."

"Well, AJ, go lie down over in the corner. It pulls out into a bed. I'll watch over you while you sleep, all right?"

"Okay," I was tired, and so I didn't think about it much. I lay down on the chair-cot-thing and fell asleep.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
I saw the papers moving up on top of my mommy's desk again, "Jeanette, you know you're not supposed to be up there."

"Is Jeanette on my desk again, Aaron?"

"Yes, and she's moving the papers."

"Oh, is she now?" Mommy turned to look at the top of her desk where I figured that Jeanette was hiding, invisible as usual. "Jeanette, you know you're not supposed to be on my desk. Can you hop down please?"

It must have worked because there was a click and the papers stopped moving.

"So, Aaron, would you and Jeanette like to try on some dresses?"

"Yes, mommy, but I'll have to try on Jeanette's, because she can't wear clothing."

"Oh really. Well, you and Jeanette should come over here and we'll get started."

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
"Aaron, you know that Jeanette isn't real, right?"

"I know, Daddy. It's just that I think of her like the little sister that you and mom are going to get for me some day."

"Oh really, and how do you figure that?"

"Well, Jeremy at daycare says that his parents got him a new baby sister at the hospital, so I figure that you can do the same for me. I'd love to have a baby sister."

"Why do you want a sister, Aaron?"

"Because I want to help mommy take care of her. She'll start out as a baby. I promise to help, and I can feed her and change her diapers. Please, daddy?"

"Well, Aaron, that's a lot to think about. Would you and Jeanette like to watch a movie with me?"

"Yes, daddy. Me an' Jeanette would love to watch a movie with you."

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
Mom was looking at the porcelain doll on my shelf. There were rockets and balls and cars throughout the rest of the room. On a single shelf above my window was the antique doll. There was a heart-shaped pendant around the doll's neck with the letters A and J scratched into the surface.

"What does AJ stand for, Aaron?"

"An' Jeanette, Mom"

"Your old imaginary friend?"

"Yeah, but I think I'm going to have to put AJ in the attic."

"Why's that, Aaron?"

"Jeremy says that boys don't play with dolls. He doesn't understand I don't play with AJ. She watches over me, and she keeps me safe."

"Well, we could give her to another little boy or girl."

"No, mommy. I need AJ to watch over me. So, can we put her in the attic above my room? If she's there, then I know that she'll always have my back. I can do anything as long as she's safe."

"Okay, Aaron. We can put AJ up into the attic for you."

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
I woke up with a start. I hadn't even remembered that doll, or my imaginary friend, in a long time. My conversation with Kelly yesterday made so much more sense now. It was a patterned response. I must have answered that question for so many people when I was little. The doll had sat on my shelf for almost three years before she moved up into the attic.

"Sleep well?" Theresa asked me.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Maybe an hour."

"Well, I feel more rested, and some things are a little clearer." I could feel the smile spreading across my face.

"You should smile more, AJ. It's hard not to love you when you do that, so I'm sure that you will completely slay my brother, if you really want to."

"Yeah, when you find out about me, you probably won't want me to have anything to do with your brother."

"What could be so horrible that you think I'd tell you to leave and never return?"

"I was the one who beat you up."

She began laughing.

"Look, AJ, I don't remember anything from that night, first off. Second of all, even if you'd beat me up I don't think I could hold a grudge."

I looked at her, completely shocked.

"From what I hear tell, there were about twenty of us who initially started in on you. I'm embarrassed that I was even in a group like that. I'd like to think I'm better than that, and before this happened I would have sworn to you I would never have tried to hurt someone with my abilities."

The half smile she'd had on her face the entire time fell away, and a couple of tears fell down her cheeks.

"I'm going to ask my sensei to remove my belt from me. I really don't deserve it anymore."

"No, you can't do that. I goaded you all into it, and you might have been a little drunk, and I think it might have been your date that I kneed in the balls before half the guys turned and ran."

"Which one did you knee?"

"Tall blond with a dog collar."

"Which tall blond with a dog collar?"

"Um…no leather jacket."

"Steve? No, I don't much like Steve, but I wouldn't really like you attacking someone without provocation."

"One of the girls had already decked me at this point."

"You know what? I don't care. I'll trust you when you say that I acted honorably, but I don't want to hear the details. If someone as small as you could take me apart, I need to practice more. I'm supposed to be able to defend myself, and that's what I'm training to do."

"To be fair, I don't fight…um…fair. I was using the press of bodies, and the enclosed space, to give myself an advantage. Also, most people think in terms of one on one, so when they go against one person as a group they get in each other's way. The trick is to get them there at the same time."

"Well, AJ, how's this? If you promise me that you'll never do anything like it again, I will look the other way when you start dating my brother."

I smiled at this before her words sank in, "Wait, when? But I'm…and he's certainly not…"

"Birth defects aside, you're a girl, AJ. Should you change that, it will be a change. Remember that. It's the only advice I have for you right now."

I really didn't know how to take this bit of advice, but it was welcome. It was something that required thought, so I gave it the attention that it deserved. Theresa was kind enough at that point to simply leave me to my own thinking.

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense.

Mom and dad always did teach me to recognize the truth. That didn't mean that I had a childhood without fantasy. I just recognized where fantasy and reality differed. A gift from Santa was just a special gift from my parents. My imaginary friend was not real. I was a girl. It was all a simple progression.

"Theresa, can girls really become boys?"

She smiled at me. "Your doctor would know better than me, but with your equipment it would probably be easier than for others. It's ready-made after all."

"Yeah, you have a point there."

To be or not to be? Better to think of it in terms of to be a boy or to be a girl. Both positives. To be myself…but who was I?

"Theresa? Why are you even putting up with me?"

"Truth? Because I have nothing else to do, and staring at the walls is driving me a bit crazy. Also, you might just be my future sister-in-law so I want to get to know you some before the big day."

I blushed and turned my head away–mostly to hide the smile.

When I glanced back at Theresa, she had a look of shock on her face.

"You're lying, aren't you?"

"What? I really am intersexed."

"No, not about that. I remember your braid. Not from the fight–from before that. You picked us, my friends and I, because of Steve. There was no excuse for his actions."

"That's not the reason. I'm to blame." I was panicked now. I had to be punished for my actions. I was hurting people. It didn't matter how I picked my victims. This was what I deserved. There wasn't a happy ending for me. I needed to be a boy so I could continue to be punished.

"It's all my fault. Everything is my fault. You have to believe that. Please. I'm irredeemable." I was crying. They had to believe me. Everyone had to see me the way I saw myself.

Theresa grabbed me with her good hand before I could move more than a couple of inches. In the position I was, I simply didn't have the leverage to break her grip.

"AJ, no. I remember what happened before that alley. Sure, you were wearing clothing to emphasize your supposed maleness, but everyone could see that you were not quite the boy you appeared. You didn't move right."

I was feebly struggling to get away as I began to cry harder.

"I am a boy. Please, let me go."

"AJ, stop. Please. Steve had no right to do that."

The feel of his lips as he…I had to leave. "Please, let me go. Please. I have to go. I'm a bad person. I asked for it. Every time it was my fault. It's always my fault."

The memories began pressing down on top of me. Every touch. Every look. Every word. "NO!!!"

I collapsed there on her floor. My legs no longer had the strength to support me. Time went away as I lay there on the ground and sobbed. "Let me be a boy. Let me have the strength to protect myself. I don't want to feel like this. I need to be a boy. No one will attack me if I'm a boy. If I just show them I'm a boy, I'll be safe."

When I said that I'd never lost a fight, I'm sorry to say I was lying. Give me a clear target, and of course I can win. Leave me free to move and I am unstoppable.

It was the times when I'd been limited in movement that I'd lost. When they'd surprised me in my room in Juvie…when I'd been asleep…

"I am to blame."

I'd made all of them pay, and everyone else had left me alone. I felt in control while I was exacting the punishment that no one else would provide.

"It's all my fault."

It had become easier to fight than to feel after that.

"AJ, STOP IT."

I heard the anger in her voice, and I whimpered but stopped.

"It is neither ladylike to lie on the floor, nor is it ladylike to whimper. Get up!"

I slowly picked myself up and sat back in the chair.

"Damn, girl. You're broken. You need to talk to someone. You need to tell someone the truth."

I looked at her, shocked.

"Buh…"

"Full words. And if you're going to sit there, at least show good posture."

I sat a little straighter, but I looked at her strangely, "You're not a therapist of some sort, are you?"

"No, not a therapist, and you should really talk to a professional, but I am a student of human behavior. I like watching people."

"So, what do you see when you watch me?"

"AJ, the first thing you need to realize is that you are a girl. That is what your mannerisms, even the small ones, tell people. If you really feel that you want to be a boy, then you need to change your mannerisms. That's why I told you that it would be a change for you to be a boy."

"I thought you meant a physical change."

"Yes, you'll need to have your breasts cut into, and the mammary material removed. You'll have your uterus cut out as well."

I shuddered at her terms. "Why not just call it a breast reduction and a hysterectomy?"

"Because those terms are too clean for you. You need to really consider what you are doing. Like the fact that if you do decide to be a girl they will cut off your penis."

I waited for the same revulsion that I had at her other terms, and it just didn't come. A perplexed expression came to my face.

"Did you realize something?"

"How come I didn't have the same feeling about someone cutting off my penis as cutting into…as removing…"

"Well, either the action isn't as real to you, something you just don't contemplate, or it doesn't fit with your self-image."

"How do I tell?"

"Can you picture yourself with a vagina? Can you picture yourself as a complete physical female?"

I sat there for a moment. Could I mentally erase my boy bits? It was a lot easier that I'd thought, which just confused me even more.

"AJ, you told me part of the story earlier. Why don't you really start at the beginning? Tell me why you feel you need to be a boy. You don't have to, if you don't want to, but I'd like to hear it."

"Okay."

When I started to talk, everything just flooded out. I talked about the things I'd never told anyone else. I had a couple of good cries. Teresa joined me in my cries a couple of times. Talking about the bad times helped me to get through them.

She was a good listener, making few comments, and mostly just helping me to express myself better. Something seemed to click for me.

"You were trying to stop me from hurting myself or others in that fight, weren't you? You were trying to break it up."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it's who you are. You help people."

"I'm not completely sure you're right, but since you can remember it, and I can't, I think I'll have to take your word for it. Will you do me the same courtesy?"

"How?"

"I want you to get your doll out of the attic. You don't have to play with her, or do anything but give her the shelf over your window. Can you do that for me?"

I smiled. That was exactly what I wanted to do anyway.

I was about to say so when a couple of police officers bust through the door.

"Oh, we're sorry ladies. We're looking for a fugitive. There isn't a man in your bathroom is there?"

"Are you looking for Aaron Smith?" I asked.

The officers looked startled but one of them nodded.

"I'm Aaron Smith."

"Then we have to place you under arrest for violating the terms of your in-home confinement."

I sat in the back of the squad car as it drove us to the station. Luckily with my small size it wasn't as cramped as it could be otherwise.

"You need to let my parents know where I am."

"They will be meeting us at the station."

"Guys, I never left the hospital."

"We'll let the lawyers deal with that. Can you quiet down please?"

I sat quietly for the rest of the trip. When we got to the station, they ushered me up the stairs and into a room with a couple of chairs and a small table.

They left me there, alone, for what seemed like an eternity, but was likely only ten minutes or so. My lawyer, Mr. Davies, came in.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was expecting…Aaron? That's your braid, but what happened to you, kid?"

"Apparently I'm a girl."

"I know you were supposed to go out as one…"

"No, I'm actually a girl. Breasts and ovaries, even if I have a penis."

"Breasts?"

"I was binding them down until a couple of days ago–trying to appear more male."

"Well, you certainly don't look male now."

"I blame a friend of mine. She thinned out my eyebrows."

"That would do part of it. I think that just helped the other features you have to fall into place. Or is it something else?…you're sitting a little straighter as well. You're more relaxed in your posture at the same time, if that's understandable."

I shook my head.

"You always seemed like you were…waiting for the other shoe to drop; waiting for the sky to fall down; waiting for something to happen–something bad."

"Something always happens."

"But now you're relaxed about it."

"Look, can you get me out of here. I'm outside of my house as a female, wearing a bra and all, so, technically I'm no longer in violation of the terms of my confinement."

"You're wearing a bra?"

"Didn't you notice the breasts?"

"Um, right. Okay. I make it a habit not to ogle my under-age client's breasts, or any of my client's breasts for that matter. The fact that you have them has not been something I've been paying attention to. Give me a minute."

"All right."

I sort of tuned him out. There was so much for me to consider. I was a girl now, for better or worse. With it would come all of the problems that were associated with being a girl, but the bonuses too, I guess. The problem really was that I simply didn't know who I was as a person, male or female.

Who did I want to be?

Or should I just be myself?

"Well, the Judge wants to see you for himself. Since I told him it wouldn't be fair to keep you here, I'm going to be driving you over to his house."

"Okay, well, let's go then."

"It's not quite that easy. The Judge will contact the prosecutor's office, who will contact the police. At that point you will be released and we can go to the Judge's house."

"Okay. Gives me more time to think, I guess."

Who did I want to be when I grew up?

While I'd been beating up everyone and everything in sight, I hadn't cared much about my future. It could happen or not. I simply wanted to make it through another day. That feeling that drove me to fight was still there, but I finally felt that I might be able to work through it, with Theresa's help. I liked talking to her.

Maybe helping other people would be my calling in life. The problem with that was I wasn't patient enough to just sit there and listen to them. I needed to experience some more of life before I could really come to a decision on what I wanted to be.

As I let my mind wander, I found myself focusing more and more on the handsome, and intelligent, Shawn. I was so broken inside that it hurt me to think about him, knowing that someone like him would never really want to be with someone like me. The fantasy was pleasant as far as fantasies go, but there was no future for us.

I wasn't even sure if there was a future for me with anyone.

I was waffling between self-loathing and a tenuous hope for the future.

More of the same sorts of phrases went over and again through my mind. It was boring, and I've wasted enough print on it–even if it was very important to me at the time.

When the officer finally came and let me out of the interrogation room–as that's what I assumed it was–I was more than ready to move on.

Mr. Davies lead me out to his car, and we went for another short drive. The house we pulled up in front of was a modest ranch-style home–someplace I'd expect a banker or an accountant to live. Judges were supposed to be rich, weren't they?

We went up the cobblestoned walk and rang the bell. The Judge's wife answered the door.

"Mrs. Anderson, we're here to see the Judge."

"Come in, Mr. Davies. My husband still talks about getting you on the right side of the bench some day."

"I'm not ready to be a judge when people like Aaron here still need my help."

"From what I hear, my husband has been doing a lot of helping himself."

"Not enough, but yes, he has helped."

"That's a matter of opinion, Michael."

"Judge."

"At home, call me Harold. So, Aaron, you're a girl? You aren't wearing the apparel I specified."

"Judge Anderson, it goes beyond clothing. I'm actually a girl. Physically I mean."

"Step into the hall, child, let me get a look at you."

I stepped into his entryway so that I would be more fully in the light. He put on a pair of glasses and started to look me up and down. I didn't feel anything in the gaze, just a sort of appraising study, so it didn't make me feel the way some men had in the past.

"Well, I will have to admit to being blind before, Aaron. Although, if you're female, then I'm going to have to call you something else, aren't I?"

"AJ is what she's currently…"

"Anne-Jeanette, Judge Anderson. I'm Anne-Jeanette Smith."

"Same initials, I see. Well, if your lawyer will write up the paperwork, and you can present my office with medical proof, then I'll get your status changed. This doesn't change the terms of your punishment, Anne-Jeanette."

"Doesn't a bra count?"

"Not unless it's visible, and no that wasn't an invitation."

"But Judge Anderson…"

"Anne-Jeanette. I must stick by the letter of the punishments that I hand down. From what I hear, you never left the hospital?"

"No, Judge Anderson. Not until the officers arrested me."

"Then I see no reason to hold you."

"Judge Anderson? I have no feminine clothing at home. If I have to wear feminine clothing to go buy feminine clothing…"

"I'll let the monitors know that you will be allowed to go to the mall tomorrow. If you allow someone from child protective services to come in the day after and verify that you no longer have any male clothing, then we can loosen the restrictions."

"But…I'll be leaving the house as a girl."

"True, but part of the requirement was that you do so, not plan to do so. As long as we have no reason to assume you are breaking the terms, and as long as you send a picture of you wearing your outfit for the day, I see no reason for you not to be allowed to come and go as you wish."

That was fair, considering I could be in Juvie again.

"Thank you, Judge Anderson."

"You're welcome, Anne-Jeanette."

"Let's get you home, AJ."

Once again into Mr. Davies' car and we were on my way home.

We arrived home to see a strange car in the driveway. So much had happened to me this afternoon that I'd completely forgotten that Mr. Smoot had planned to stop by with the information for my Chemistry class.

As soon as we entered the house, and I heard voices in the living room, I called out. "I'm so sorry it's so late, Mr. Smoot. I'm a bit of an airhead today, and I got myself arrest…"

The person in the living room was Shawn, and not Mr. Smoot. I stood there with my mouth wide open. When everyone started laughing, I closed it with a snap.

"If you'd prefer Benjamin to finish your lesson for you, then I can always call him in here, but he figured that I would be a better choice, since it was more my lesson than his."

"No, I'm okay with you finishing the lesson." Sometimes the moment is enough to destroy all doubts you have, and I was smiling so much it hurt. I really didn't care.

My parents and Shawn laughed at me, but he finished up the lesson anyway.

After he was done, the four of us were sitting around the living room and just talking. It was a little weird, I guess, but I wasn't complaining.

"I've been meaning to ask you, Shawn, this all seems rather convenient: Mr. Smoot being your cousin and all."

"Well, he is my cousin, but we're not that closely related. In genealogical terms we're fifth cousins once removed."

"Which means?"

"It means that his great-great-great-great-grandfather was my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather."

"How many years ago was he alive?"

"That relative died just under a hundred years ago. He was sixty-four at the time. I met Benjamin at a Smoot family reunion. It's a pretty big affair if you can imagine. Before we met there, neither of us knew the other, and it came as a surprise that we lived in the same city."

"How many people go to those?"

"To give you some idea, the reunion was in England. Apparently more of them live there."

I gave him a blank look.

"The first of us moved to the US in 1830."

My jaw dropped. "People have reunions for stuff like that?"

"Apparently the family made a promise to meet together once every ten years. Only one of the sons came to the US, the other four children stayed in the UK."

"That is so cool. I don't think I ever met my grandparents."

Mom and dad were looking a little uncomfortable, so I changed the subject. Dad was a little touchy where his parents were concerned. Mom grew up in the system after her family died in a car accident.

"So, it's late, and I have a wardrobe to get tomorrow."

"Wardrobe?" mom asked.

"Oh, yeah, the Judge authorized me to go shopping for more appropriate clothing."

Shawn looked at me a little strangely, but didn't pry. I really didn't want to tell him the truth. The longer I could go without saying anything, the more of the fantasy I would get to live. Eventually I'd have to tell him, and then it would all end, but for now I wanted to be selfish and make some memories.

"Well, Shawn, it's a school night for our daughter. We appreciated having you here tonight, and thank you for finishing your lesson."

"Night, Shawn," I said.

"Night, AJ. Night Mr. and Mrs. Smith."

"Good night, Shawn."

My dad escorted him to the door while my mom looked at me. She wanted to ask a question, but she was waiting for my dad to get back before she did.

I decided now was a great time for a frontal attack.

"Hey, mom? Is my porcelain doll still in the attic?"

"Your…oh. AJ. Anne-Jeanette. That's where it came from. Yes, she's still there."

"Can I have her back please?"

"She's yours. Of course you can have her back."

"I want her back on the shelf above the window."

"What made you think of her, Aaron?"

"Please, mom. Can you call me AJ?"

"Or Anne-Jeanette?"

I nodded and smiled.

"I forgot for a moment. This is so strange. You're changing into a new person."

"No, I'm just finally admitting who I am. While I was in Theresa Harris's room, I had a dream. I remembered some stuff from the past."

"Nothing bad, I hope." There was a concerned look on her face. I let it slide, as I really didn't know of anything that should concern her about me remembering the past.

"No, nothing bad. I remembered my imaginary friend. It also reminded me of why I remembered the dresses. I was trying them on for her. I think it's fitting I take her name."

"AJ?"

"I know. She wasn't real. Did I ever tell you I thought of her like a sister?"

My mom shook her head.

"Well, it's true. I imagined that she was my sister, and we were the same age. I tried on the dresses because you could never see them on her."

"Oh, Anne-Jeanette," my mom was crying a bit, and wrapped me in her arms. I hugged her back. I looked over her shoulder after a moment or two and saw dad smiling in the doorway.

"Well, it looks like I'm outnumbered now. You were supposed to be in my corner, AJ. You know, the male solidarity."

"Oh hush, dad. It's not like I've gone away. The fact that we know I have two X chromosomes doesn't change that I'm still myself. I'm still a fighter, dad. It's the only thing I ever knew."

"Are you sure, AJ? I thought this was to get you out of that life."

"I'm no longer going to fight on the street, dad. I at least want to give fighting in the ring a chance. May I? Please?"

My dad looked at my mom, and then the two of them looked back at me.

"AJ..." my dad began, but I interrupted him.

"I know everything you're about to say, dad. I know the dangers of boxing, and with its more lax rules, MMA has to be worse. I'm young to be a fighter, which I know also. Look, I also know I would need a lot of training before I got into a ring. I just want to see if that is something that I am good enough at to even start training. Even if I never climb in a ring, it will give me an outlet."

I fully expected to hear him tell me no, but I guess it was something in my eyes that changed his mind. Or my posture. Or something else entirely.

"All right, Anne-Jeanette. As long as you understand that this is permission to train only–which includes sparring of course. Training. If you want to go further than that we'll re-open the discussion."

"That's all I ask, dad."

"Well, Anne-Jeanette, what we told Shawn holds true: it is late."

"Before you go, AJ, I need something clarified," mom said.

"Mom, I love you, and think that most of your styles will work perfectly on me. However, most of what you make is formal. I need everyday clothing too, and more of that than you can make for me in a single week."

"That's not what I was going to ask."

"But…"

"I love that you want to wear my clothing, but like you said, we don't have the time. If you want I can slowly replace pieces of your wardrobe with Anne-Jeanette originals…"

"Anne-Jeanette?" I was confused.

"I hadn't placed why, but I've been calling my personal line that I've been designing 'For Jeanette'. I'd been using it for so long that I forgot the original source. I like the idea of calling my line 'Anne-Jeanette' better."

"Doesn't the designer usually name it after herself?"

"There are lots of naming schemes. I'm naming mine after my daughter and first model."

"I'm not pretty enough to be a model."

"Your father and Shawn both disagree."

I looked at dad and he just nodded at me.

"So, mom, if it wasn't about the clothing…"

"I just wondered if you wanted to invite your friends along."

"Friends?"

"Kelly, for one, and Jasmine?"

I must be tired, my nap this afternoon notwithstanding.

"Oh, right, I have friends." I beamed a smile at the room. Well, I had one friend. Jasmine was fun to talk to, and Kelly? Well, Kelly was Kelly. She was a bundle of raw nerves wrapped around a nuclear power source. She was all over the place, and flighty, and…okay, I admit it. She grew on you. Like a fungus maybe, but she did grow on you.

"I can invite them?"

"We wouldn't have said anything otherwise."

I squealed, this time without the embarrassment afterwards. I ran upstairs to my computer and sent requests to both Jasmine and Kelly. Jasmine answered a moment or two before Kelly did. I joined us into a three-way chat.

"Do you know what time it is, AJ?" Jasmine asked me.

"Of course she does, so it must be important to call us both after ten pm."

"It's after ten? Crap. I'll make this quick."

Kelly and Jasmine laughed at that.

"So, I'm going shopping for a complete new wardrobe tomorrow. We've decided that it's about time I stopped being a tomboy and really went all out. I'm really not sure how girly I want to go, but there will be much shopping."

"Of course we'll join you," Kelly said with a huge smile.

"What she said, but without all of the bounciness."

"Okay, come over to my house after school and we'll get organized."

We signed off, and I looked around to see mom standing in my doorway with a box. I felt my heart rate speed up a bit. With slightly trembling hands I opened the box and pulled apart the packing material. There she was: a little more dusty, and a little older. I hoped she was a little wiser as well, but time would tell.

I reverently put her up on her old shelf after carefully cleaning off the dust from her face and clothing. She still wore the locket that I'd given her and it still bore my more juvenile handwriting scratched into its surface.

When my mom left, I lay on my bed and looked up at the other AJ.

"We've got the same name now, Anne-Jeanette. Hope you don't mind."

I lay there and stared up at her. She surveyed my room, and protected me from the night.

It was time for this day to be over. I turned out the light, closed my eyes, and went to sleep.

"AJ, if you don't talk about it, this isn't going to work," Mr. Owen Reiss, my new therapist, was trying to get me to open up to him.

"I don't want 'this' to work."

"Why not?"

"Because...I just don't?"

"Is that a question? AJ, I'm not here to solve your problems."

"But isn't that your job? You're a therapist after all."

"AJ, people lie to themselves. They think they're better or worse than they actually are. Sometimes just telling someone else how they see themselves is enough to get past the worst of these. Sometimes it is someone else telling them what they see.

"My job is to be that someone else. Beyond just being anyone, I'm actually trained to be able to respond correctly."

"See, that means you will lie to me."

"No, I won't. Lying would destroy any type of trust we could build. For us to actually make any progress, you have to trust me."

"Well, how is what you said any different?"

"There is more than one way to tell someone the truth, just as there is more than one way to lie to someone."

"But, if you don't tell someone the whole truth, aren't you lying at that point?"

"For certain very strict definitions of truth, yes. But if we really get into the philosophy of Truth, then we could be here for years and never come to an agreement."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do the philosophers."

I was still a bit lost, but let him have this one.

"So, do you want me to lie down on the couch or something?"

"Not unless that's what you want to do. I'm not a psychoanalyst, so that really isn't part of what I do."

"Huh?"

"There are many types of therapy. Psychoanalysis is only one of those. Humanistic therapy is another. I like mine."

"I always thought that all therapists were the same. Is there really that much of a difference between them?"

"Psychoanalysts assume that your unconscious mind is lying to your conscious mind about the source of the problem. Their methods are designed to 'trick' the unconscious mind into revealing itself."

"Humanistic therapists like me believe that it is a matter of determining where your attitudes and actions differ and either help you to change your attitudes or your actions to match."

"So, that would be me acting more masculine if I really am a boy?"

"Or accepting that you're a girl, yes."

"You don't do this with all of your patients, do you?"

"I prefer the term clients to patients, but yes. You're not sick, AJ. This isn't an abnormality in you that causes your distress. It is a simple conflict."

"Simple..."

"Sorry, I understand that for you this is a very momentous decision, and I shouldn't have made light of it."

"I thought you were supposed to be a professional, Mr. Reiss."

"Well, I'm human first, and a therapist second. I make mistakes."

"Shouldn't I be seeing you as infallible to help the process?"

"Only if you want to."

I giggled a bit at this.

"AJ, why don't you tell me about yourself?"

"What do you want to hear?"

"Whatever you'd like to tell."

The time I spent with Mr. Reiss was wasted in my opinion, but he was pleasant to talk to, so I told him about myself. He seemed so accepting that I started to get angry with him. He was supposed to dislike me. This was supposed to repulse him.

I began telling him some of the darker stuff. I told him of my fascination with my blood flowing into the vial, and wanting to cut myself. Still, he just sat there with a slight smile on his face, waiting for me to go on. He would ask me questions when it was warranted, or just restate what I'd said.

Why wouldn't he crack?

"Six months ago, I broke into the Kimbal building."

"The twelve story building downtown?"

"Yes. I was tired and wanted to get some rest."

"So, you were going to sleep in the Kimbal building."

"No, not in the building. I knew from past experience that the guard liked to smoke halfway through his rounds, so he left the roof access door unlocked."

"I see."

"No, you don't see. I stood on the edge of the building and looked at the ground for almost an hour. I tried to make myself take that final step. There would be the rushing of the wind, and then a sudden stop, and I'd finally get some rest."

"Why do you feel that you need that?"

"Why don't you hate me? Why? How can you calmly ask me about wanting to commit suicide?"

"Have you ever actually cut yourself?"

"No."

"Jumped off a building?"

"No."

"Taken sleeping pills? Tried to drown yourself? Hang yourself?"

"No! I'm not that stupid!"

"Then why do you think I'd get upset with you thinking about something you just admitted you'd never actually do?"

I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times and then in a small voice I said, "I might."

"AJ, that is why you're here. So that you won't."

"But, I am evil. I hurt people. I could have killed those two..."

"But you didn't."

"I could have. I was out of control."

"Really? Then how come more of them didn't go to the hospital?"

"Because I'm not even strong enough to do that. Only the weaker girls."

"AJ, are girls really that weak?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Yes."

"Which is it?"

"Girls are weak. I mean, everyone knows that."

"People are people, AJ. Some are weak and some are strong. Some are both weak and strong at the same time."

"How can you be weak and strong at the same time?"

"Well, look at yourself."

"I'm not strong."

"So, a weak person fought off eight attackers all by herself with nothing more than a couple of bruises and a split lip to show for it."

When he put it that way, I had to admit that he had a point. It wasn't something I wanted to be proud of, but I knew that it took a certain type of strength to accomplish.

"Can I be happy for my strength, but hate how I used it?"

"You can do pretty much anything that you set your mind to, AJ. That should be a healthy thing, though. You just need a more healthy way to focus that strength."

I relaxed after that and told him everything about my life. I included all of the people I'd attacked, and the reasons that I'd done so. I didn't use them as justifications, but I did use them as explanations.

"I think we've made some progress today, AJ."

"Mr. Reiss, I came here expecting to hate this as much as every other therapy session I've ever had. I think I actually liked it."

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, AJ."

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Reiss."

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
I was just sitting down in the living room when the doorbell rang.

"AJ, could you get the door?" mom called from the kitchen. She'd decided that we would need some sustenance before setting out for an afternoon of shopping.

I walked to the door and opened it.

"Hey, Anne-Jeanette!"

"Hello, Kelly. Come on in."

"Jasmine is running a bit late, so she wants to meet us at the mall."

"Okay. You want to come in? Mom is making something for us to eat before we leave."

"I'll come in for a bit, but I really want to get going. It's not every day you get to start in on the ground floor with someone's wardrobe. We get to help mold you into the girl you'll become." She was almost rubbing her hands in anticipation.

"Well, Kelly, I have to let you know that I don't plan on going super girly."

"Oh, girlfriend, what you plan and what happens aren't always the same thing."

I just looked at her and she giggled.

"When I met Jasmine I was just coming out of my own tomboy phase."

"You..."

"No, I'm all girl, and always have been. I just climbed a lot of trees, and I still play baseball in the city league. She helped me to see that it can be a lot of fun acting girly. I sort of surpassed her in girliness."

"Is that even a word?"

"Doesn't matter. I like it."

"Whatever, Kelly, and can you please just call me Anne-Jeanette?"

"I'm sorry. I get carried away with the pet names, I know. So, any ideas what type of clothing we try first?"

"Let's try somewhat androgynous in female cuts and go from there."

"Who's trying to be a little miss party pooper? We need to start more adventurously than that."

I thought of something and blushed.

"What? It is probably really juicy. Spill, gi...Anne-Jeanette."

"We can get my ears pierced first," I said in a small voice.

She squealed and bounced up and down. Then she grabbed my hands and jumped up and down a bit more. I tried to get as excited as she was, but I just really couldn't. I was getting used to the idea of being a girl, but I really didn't think I would ever be this...bubbly.

I watched my mom as she finished whatever it was she was preparing. She'd never acted this way, as far as I knew. Of course, that was the operational phrase: as far as I knew.

Well, I'd have to see. I'd have to decide here and now to be myself. I really didn't want to let this shift in my self-image from boy to girl make a change in my actions. Sure, some changes would happen, but I wanted to try to keep those changes to a minimum.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
Another car ride. I'm running out of ways to say, 'we got in the car and drove to x and it was really boring because I spent the entire time lost in thought,' without simply repeating that every time I drive somewhere. It could be that I am lacking in imagination, but that is what I think every time I want to tell about driving to someplace.

The mall is an outdoor affair, with wide, open air walkways between stores. Being on the coast, it helps that we never have any cold winters. I'm not sure if this sort of center would work anywhere else in the country.

We stopped at a salon first.

"I certainly hope you're not here to get that lovely hair cut off," said one of the girls in the store.

"Oh, no. I'd never get my hair cut off. It would be tantamount to murder in my opinion."

"Well, what can we do for you today?"

"We want mani-pedis and my friend here would love to get her ears pierced," Kelly said.

"Don't we want to wait for Jasmine?"

"I'm here," said Jasmine from behind me.

"Hey, AJ, sorry I wasn't able to meet you at your mom's."

"You missed the best vegi-burgers I've ever had," Kelly said rubbing her tummy.

"Are you guys vegetarians, AJ?"

"Nope. Mom has this thing about hamburger though. I agree with her. If you're going to go to the trouble of eating meat, it might as well be the best cut you can get, and in steak form–preferably with a nice green salad on the side."

"Exactly," my mom added. "Might as well make vegetables taste good as ruin a good piece of meat."

Jasmine looked skeptical, but Kelly chimed back in, "You really missed out, Jaz. They were better than any burgers I've had recently. And apparently they're better for me. I might have to see if I can come over every night if the food is going to be this good."

"Girl, if you didn't exercise as much as you do, you would blow up like a balloon," Jasmine said.

Kelly just stuck out her tongue.

"Ladies, if the four of you will step this way?"

The other three got their hair washed and a slight trim. I think mine would have taken all the girls in the place a few hours to even attempt the same. I got a complete work-over otherwise. One girl worked on my feet, while another had my hands. I think they attacked me at both ends so I wouldn't be able to stop them when they started putting on makeup with a trowel.

Okay, so they only put on a light coating of makeup that perfectly accentuated my appearance.

They showed me a couple of sheets of stud earrings while they were working on me, and I saw the perfect pair. They were even in surgical steel. I've done a bit of research in the past. I was thinking of getting a single ear pierced in the past, one of the things I wanted to enhance my appearance.

I was going to get a skull or a gold cube, or something masculine.

That was then.

The red and pink hearts looked like they would be perfect. It was just the outline of two hearts, and they overlapped a bit. The red was on the left, and about a quarter higher than the pink–two hearts per ear.

Getting hit in the face hurts a lot worse.

When we were all finished mom got a number of photos of us in front of the store. Then it was time to get down to business.

True to my word, we started with jeans and t-shirts. Unfortunately for me, I didn't understand at the time what that meant.

So many girls' styles, and cuts, and…

I liked the way that the clothing felt. Not in any sort of sexual way. No. It fit. It all fit. Properly. There is something about having clothing that fits you properly that you never realized you missed until you actually put something on that just...fits.

I don't know how else to say it.

It doesn't have to be tight, or loose. It simply makes you feel normal. You can forget about what you are wearing and just be.

Which isn't to say that I didn't feel downright sexy in some of those pants and tops.

I have to say that other than the fact that it limits your range of motion, I love skintight jeans. I love the way that they make me feel. You feel like you're naked, and yet fully clothed at the same time.

"I love these. Can I wear them out of the store?"

"Anne-Jeanette, think about how easy they are to get in and out of."

"Not very, but they are so sexy."

"That may be, daughter mine, but we have more clothing to try on. You are welcome to wear them tomorrow."

I imagined getting into, and out of, those jeans twenty or thirty times through the course of the evening.

"Point taken, mom."

Jasmine and Kelly just giggled at me.

"Oh, hush. You two just wish that your butts looked as good as mine in those jeans."

They hit me for that one.

Yeah, they hit like girls.

We were walking to the next store with a tower of bags. Not all the bags were mine, but a good percentage were. A little store front caught my eye. I'd seen the symbol on a number of signs. The symbol of an empty fist with a dragon wrapped in the fingers.

The lettering above the symbol proclaimed this store as West Coast MMA.

"Mom, do you mind if I stop in here?"

Mom got a disapproving frown on her face, but nodded after a moment. "The girls and I will take the bags out to the car. We'll need our arms if we're going to carry bags from the other stores. However, Anne-Jeanette, if you choose to go in there, then realize that the next place we're going is Victoria's Secret."

I looked back at the store front, and then simply nodded, "Okay, mom."

"We'll be back here in about five minutes."

I stepped into the dojo or whatever it was, and I was assaulted by the smell of sawdust, blood, and sweat. There was a bit of leather mixed in for good measure. It was a good smell in my opinion.

"If you're here for the self-defense class, it's been cancelled. Our previous teacher got married recently and is on her honeymoon."

"No, I wanted to see what you had in here."

There were a couple of guys working with the weight bags, and another couple in the ring, sparring I assumed.

"Do you even have room in here for a self-defense class? It seems kind of...small."

The guy chuckled at me, "It's got a couple of back rooms. I'm Felipe."

I pulled the card out of my wallet, and sure enough, it said Felipe on it.

"I think this might be yours. Shawn Harris told me to get together with you."

"Shawn? How is that genius?"

"Good."

"So, he sent you my way. Street fighter?"

I nodded and shrugged.

"Used to be. I'm trying to get out of it."

"Any good?"

"I used to think so."

"Well, you're shorter than I'd like. Want to spar a bit, just so I can see how you move? You'll have to fight one of these apes, as I don't have any girls."

"I'm fine with that."

"None of my protective gear will fit you..."

"Felipe, if any of these guys can touch me, then I'll have a really good reason to hang up my gloves."

I climbed up into the ring with one of the amateurs there.

I mean that in every respect of the word. He was wearing a head guard, and a waist guard.

He went after me with a telegraphed straight arm punch. I stepped to the side and kneed him in the stomach and then elbowed him in the back of the head when he doubled over.

"Henry, get out of there. I should've known with someone that Shawn sent me."

Felipe climbed in the ring with me.

No, I didn't win. Didn't lose either. He seriously put me through my paces. I could tell that he was holding back, though, and it started to upset me. I got creative and found myself on my back with a bicep hurtling toward my head.

I rolled out of the way and leapt to my feet. I was crouching and getting ready for my counter-attack when Felipe held up his hands.

"Anne-Jeanette, you get out of that ring this instant!"

Oh, crap. I was in for it now. I wonder if mom will accept that I'd only been sparring?

"Ma'am, I take it that Anne-Jeanette wasn't supposed to be sparring with me?"

"Sparring?"

"Basically it was test fighting."

"That elbow to the face you threw at my daughter didn't look like practice."

"Mom!" I said, the embarrassment flooding to my face.

"Ma'am, Let me first assure you that your daughter was perfectly safe. I am in full control and would have pulled it had she not moved. I teach this for a living."

"What is your name?"

"Felipe DesJardin."

"Well, Felipe, I thought Anne-Jeanette only went in here to look around."

"She said that Shawn Harris sent her."

"Don't you remember when we first saw him in the hospital, Mom?"

Mom took a deep breath, calming herself before she continued, "Well, is she good enough for you?"

"Truth be told? No, and not because of her skill. She's too short."

"What?!" I couldn't believe it. I was being turned down because of my size.

"MMA is a cash business, Anne-Jeanette. That means that without customers, the fight doesn't happen. People want to see two people who are visually similar fighting. Overt underdogs are for performance art like professional wrestling."

I wasn't going to argue with him over whether so called professional wrestling was real as I'd never personally watched it. I accepted his statement and let him move on.

"You're good, Anne-Jeanette, but I wouldn't feel right putting you in a ring with anyone else. You have a lot of natural talent, and some training. Tell you the truth, given a couple of years and you might equal me in skill.

"So, I have a proposition for you."

"What sort of a proposition?" my mom asked.

"A job offer. As I mentioned to your daughter my self-defense instructor is on her honeymoon. Now, I don't know how good Anne-Jeanette would be as a teacher, but I'd like to at least try her out with a couple of personal training sessions. If it works out then I'd like her to teach the class while the regular instructor is gone.

"Her experience with street fighting, if Shawn is to be believed, will give her an advantage with the types of situations that the women she will be teaching are likely to encounter."

"Don't you think Shawn can be trusted?" I was a little worried at this. Felipe had known Shawn a lot longer than I had.

"He has a tendency to be a little...over enthusiastic where women are concerned."

I blushed.

"I can tell that you do have some skills, but like I said, I need to see if you can teach as well. The next self-defense class is Saturday morning, so if I'm going to have you sit in on one of my personal training sessions we only have two days."

"Can I, mom?"

I don't know why, but the thought of teaching fighting really excited me. This was what I was passionate about, after all. And if I could help other women so that they never had to feel as helpless as I had in the past...

Yes, I was still broken in places, but they didn't have to know that.

"We're trying to get you out of this life, AJ."

"What life? Mom, I am good at this. I'm really good. I stood my own against eight people who outweighed me and had a much longer reach."

"You got arrested for that."

"But I didn't get killed. Mom, I love this, okay? It is the only thing that makes me feel alive. I'm trying to use it to find a real reason to live."

The blood drained from my mom's face, and I shut my mouth. I wanted to tell her more about what fighting meant to me, but at this point it just wasn't appropriate.

"I need this, mom. I need to know that something I've devoted my life to can build instead of destroy."

She threw her arms around me and just hugged me. I held back my tears, but only barely. I could feel my mom sobbing into my shoulder.

"AJ, I'll let you do this. Please, be careful. I don't want you hurt. Promise me?"

"I promise, mom."

"Okay, Felipe, what do I have to do? How do I authorize my daughter to work with you?"

"Just get her here tomorrow at four."

"I'll be here, Felipe."

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
They got me into Victoria's Secret, which is not something I'm going to share with you. I wouldn't walk around in nothing but my underwear, so don't expect me to parade through these pages in nothing but the same.

They got me in some skirts, and then we tried on formal dresses for the fun of it.

Strangely, I started to enjoy my time trying on clothing. It was more fun watching my friends parading their clothing, but I enjoyed my turn on the catwalk.

We ended up stopping by the car a couple more times, and by the time we were done, I was in a comfortable thick strap tank dress. It was a pretty olive color in a loose cut. I wore a white t-shirt under it.

Dad said he wanted me modest after all. I was fine with that, as I wasn't really ready to show off my body for everyone yet.

I wore a pair of white leggings underneath it. Sure, the hair I had on my body was fine, but it was noticeable when I wore that dress.

The white and olive didn't look too bad, and it actually made me look a little less pale, at least I thought so.

I kept the leggings on under most of the skirts and dresses we tried, and by the end I'd decided that I didn't like shopping. Sure, I loved watching the others try on clothing, but I wanted clothing that fit the first time I tried it on, had colors that complemented my complexion and hair color, and did not want to have to try it on. In short, I wanted my mom to make my clothing.

Sure, in any other situation, that would make me the kid everyone laughed at.

In this situation it would likely make me the envy of every other girl in my class.

We bought both Kelly and Jasmine a number of new outfits, and they were happy to spend the time.

"Mom, I think it's about time to call this trip done."

"Okay, Anne-Jeanette."

"But we haven't even gotten halfway through the mall."

"Kelly, I love you, but this isn't for me. Too much time doing nothing."

"AJ, you sit in your room for hours staring at the ceiling," my mom said.

"Actually, mom, I lie on my bed for hours, but realize that I'm itching to do something even then. Although, the changing light, and the ever changing scene outside my window is enough to hold my attention. No two days are ever truly the same..."

Jasmine looked at me strangely as I was talking about the view from my window. I'd have to figure out what was going on in that mind of hers, and sooner rather than later.

"Well, AJ, we'll see you at school tomorrow," Kelly said, "Jasmine will give me a ride home, so..."

I gave each of them a hug, and got in the car with my mom.

"At some point, and soon, we need to teach you to drive, AJ."

"Mom, not this argument again."

"Well, if you'd just learn to drive, there'd be no argument."

"I like having you or dad drive me. And anywhere you won't take me I can walk or ride the bus."

"Yes, but wouldn't you like the freedom of your own car?"

"And the hassle of keeping the tank full, and worrying about registration, and paying for tickets...it's just not for me, mom."

"Well, hopefully, someday, you'll realize that everyone should know how to drive."

"Maybe I'll just take up bicycle riding."

My mom snorted at me, "As long as it's not motorcycle riding, then I'm fine with whatever solution that you come up with. Just realize that a bicycle saddle will be uncomfortable after any sort of surgery down there."

"Then, while I'm recovering, I'll just have you or dad drive me."

Mom just shook her head at me, and I stared out the window as we drove.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
The next morning, I decided it was about time I took my new self-image out for a spin.

The first thing I did was shave. Still nothing on my face; at this point I doubted I would ever have facial hair. My legs took me a little while, and I got a couple of nicks. They weren't anything serous, and almost before I knew it my legs were smooth and clean.

Next it was a simple matter to get on my under things and pick out something to wear.

I went with a skirt and a peasant top today. While I expected to feel something after putting on my clothing, it just felt like clothing to me. Sure, it was different material that I was used to in my everyday life, but it was just clothing.

Next, it was time to put on some makeup. I still had the supplies that Kelly left with me, so I set to work trying to get my look perfect.

It would take me a little while to get 'perfect' unfortunately, and I settled for good enough. Every time I cleaned it all off and started over again, I went with a lighter covering until even I could barely tell they were there, and I knew exactly where to look.

Enhancement is all I was worried about at that point, and they did their job. I smiled every time I saw my earrings in the mirror. It's silly, I know, but those two little bits of base metal seemed to improve my mood more than most of what I was doing this morning.

I asked AJ to wish me luck, and then logged into my first class of the day.

Whatever I was expecting to happen, it wasn't what did happen. At the end of my first class, and while we were waiting for the people physically at the school to change classes, I got a couple of requests for private chats with some of the guys in my classes.

I couldn't even tell I was wearing makeup, and I know that most of my outfit would be out of the camera range, since we were required to keep the camera focused on our faces for school, but somehow I was attracting attention.

I really didn't want to be rude, so I tried to give each of the boys a little time, but that only seemed to encourage them. By the end of my third period the number of people requesting chat sessions with me had hit values that even I couldn't believe. I didn't have the time to chat with even a few of them, so I decided that this had to stop.

Linking them all into a single session, I began to speak before any of them had a chance to realize what had happened, "I really appreciate that you all want to spend time with me in chat, but I don't have time right now to talk to all of you. Thank you for your attentiveness and thank you for making me feel really special today. I needed it more than I knew."

I probably shouldn't have ended with an air kiss, but I did and signed off before anyone could respond.

Jasmine cornered me before Chemistry started, "Dang, girl, what did you do?"

"Not much, really."

"There are guys talking about you in every class I've had today. We've already had warnings about inappropriate chatter."

"Apparently all I needed to do was dress like a girl and wear makeup."

"Or, it's your earrings."

"What?"

"They're picked up really well in the camera, and for some reason they're glowing a little bit. It's really strange and pretty at the same time. Probably has the male libido going in overdrive."

I blushed hotly and looked down. What was I supposed to do now? I didn't want the new holes in my head to close up, but wearing these for the next couple of weeks was beginning to feel like it might be torture. I loved these earrings though.

"Look, AJ, you're a pretty girl. Sure, it took a little jolt for the guys to really realize it, but this was going to happen regardless."

"I'm...pretty?"

"If you weren't my friend, I'd be so jealous of you right now. I only call you pretty to keep from wanting to send my huntsman out to kill you in the woods."

"First Rapunzel, then Cinderella, now you're placing me in the role of Snow White. What is it with you people and your need to cast me in the role of a fairy tale princess."

"You are a princess, Anne-Jeanette. You picked the princess name for yourself. Your parents are rich..."

"They're not rich. We're just well off."

"Anne-Jeanette, I've talked to Kelly. You have a quarter mile drive from your front gate to your house. You have a movie theater!"

"But we only have two rooms."

"From what I hear your house is huge. Who cares if you don't have tons of rooms? You have tons of room."

"But there's no formal garden out back."

"Okay, I don't have any answer for that. Regardless, you aren't hurting, Princess Anne-Jeanette."

Mr. Smoot broke into our conversation at this point, "Ladies, if you'll please join the rest of the class, we're ready to begin."

"Sorry, Mr. Smoot."

There was no visit from Shawn today, for which I was exceptionally disappointed, but I survived.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
"Anne-Jeanette! You look so much more...I don't even know how to describe it."

"It's probably the earrings. They seem to have attracted the attention of all the boys in school today."

"So they made comments about your earrings?"

"Well, not as such, but they did talk to me more than usual. I actually had to ask them to stop sending me requests for personal chat sessions."

"You liked the attention though?"

"Yes, I did. I like being noticed. My friend said I was pretty today."

I think Mr. Reiss picked up on an unstated feeling because he simply sat there and waited.

"I like being noticed, but I don't really believe that I'm pretty. I'm more willing to believe that it was the jewelry that caught attention than that they really want to speak to me personally."

"Anne-Jeanette, you need to realize something. No, you are not classically beautiful. Your nose is crooked, and you've got a few small scars on your face and neck. Your ears are too big, and your mouth is too small. But you knew all of that already.

"You won't ever be beautiful, but you might eventually be considered gorgeous."

"I don't understand."

"You are unique, AJ. You have a presence that draws people to you. They'll blame it on your clothing, or your jewelry, or your hair, because they'll never admit that your personality captured them. They'll overlook your supposed flaws because they can't call you plain, and they just don't know why."

I blushed and smiled at his words. "Is it entirely professional that you're saying this?"

"Yes, because all I'm doing is stating the facts. You're not my type, anyway."

"Really?"

"I like my men with muscles."

I couldn't help myself and laughed. There was a wackiness to Mr. Reiss that I was only just now starting to recognize.

"Also, you remember, I told you yesterday that I am recording all of our sessions. This keeps me honest and protects both of us. The only other alternative is to have someone sit in on all of our sessions, and you didn't want that."

I shuddered at the thought. No, I didn't want to tell my parents all of the things that I'd told Mr. Reiss.

I talked to him about Shawn after that, but he didn't have any good advice for me on that front. We finished up the session and it was time to head over to the mall for my first personal training session.

I'd packed a bag with some workout clothing that I'd picked up yesterday, including a sports bra that fit properly, and left it in the car during my session with Mr. Reiss.

I arrived at the gym with about ten minutes to spare.

"Get changed and meet me in training room three," Felipe said as I walked through the door.

"Hello to you too, Felipe."

He just smiled at me and I went into the postage stamp that they called a women's locker room. This was one of the larger spaces at the mall, and they were shoehorned in here. I wondered why they didn't move to another, larger, location.

I was dressed in my black shorts and white tee and into training room three in about five minutes. I was surprised to see that there was already another man in the room with Felipe.

"AJ, I'd like you to meet William."

I shook his hand. He looked me up and down in an appraising manner.

"What can she teach me? She is so small."

"First, I can tell you that you stand with your legs too far apart, but then most men do. It leaves you open to a primary target strike."

"I always thought that a body blow was a primary target strike."

"In a ring, maybe, or on the exhibition floor. In a real fight, you want to put your opponent down as quickly as possible, and if one well-placed kick or punch will do it, then you take that strike."

"Well, I don't think..."

I snapped out a kick to the primary target. I kicked him in the thigh just below the area we'd been talking about to let him know I was there.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Proving my point."

"Listen, little girl..."

"William, you can call me Anne-Jeanette, AJ, or Teacher. I don't like being disrespected, and I hate pet names."

"Yes, AJ. I understand."

"You're not going to crush anything if you keep your legs closer together. All you have to remember is that your thighs don't have to touch, they just have to make the passage of foot sized objects impossible."

We went over basics for another half an hour, and then got into some slow sparring. I could tell that he had some skills, but that he was unpracticed.

I made use of Felipe for some faster-paced demonstrations. It was only after about forty minutes that I realized I never asked what we were supposed to be training.

While William was practicing some improvised katas, I pulled Felipe aside.

"What were we supposed to be training him in? I just realized I never asked." I began to blush as I said this.

"You've done well. William thinks he has what it takes to become a professional MMA fighter. Learning your style of 'anything goes all out fighting' will help him to understand that sometimes it takes more than money to do something."

"But, won't that hurt him when he gets in the ring?"

"Only if I ever allow him in the ring. At his present rate of progress, I expect him to be ready in five to ten years."

We went back to William after this, and spent the rest of his hour session speeding him up. He was so slow in all of his motions.

"William, you really need to realize that fights aren't like you see in the movies, where every blow is telegraphed so that they can be seen. Here, I'm going to use Felipe to demonstrate."

I knew some of his tricks, since I'd sparred with him yesterday, so I showed him some of mine. I felt alive and laughed a bit as we got into it.

"Damn, Teacher, you're scary. I wouldn't want to run into you in a dark alley."

"Don't worry, I only beat up bigots." It was a half truth, but who cares?

"See you next week, William," Felipe said.

"As long as I get my normal session with you, Felipe. She is too intense for me."

I blinked at him, but let it go. I was barely beginning to sweat. He was drenched. I'd been moving at least as much as he did today.

"So, how'd I do," I asked Felipe after William had changed and left.

"I still want to see you here tomorrow, but I think you might just work out. You are able to explain everything you know in a way that at least William can understand. Tomorrow, I have a savateur who is trying to get some experience fighting people using other styles. Since your style is the most other I know, I thought it would be a good experience."

"Savateur?"

"Means he practices savate. Savate is a French martial art that uses kicks and punches."

"So, it's like Muay Tai?"

"Not so much. Savateurs always wear shoes, and aren't allowed to strike with their knees or shins."

"Okay, interesting. Well, see you tomorrow then."

"Good night, AJ. See you tomorrow."

As I cooled down from my workout, I decided that it would have been a better idea to shower and change at the gym than to just go home as I was. I was dirty, and I smelled, and...you probably don't want the particulars.

While my mom drove, I began to fantasize about what I was going to do when I got home. My head was a bit itchy, so I figured it was time to go all out and wash my hair. As it was only a little after five o'clock that meant I should be done no later than seven, including travel time, wetting, washing, rinsing, conditioning, rinsing and drying.

Even before I realized I was a girl, I put conditioner in my hair. I just always figured it was the right thing to do with hair that long.

The thought of getting clean so consumed me that I didn't pay attention to the voices coming from the living room. I just stripped off my t-shirt and began to go up the stairs.

"Good, you're home. AJ, the case worker is here to..."

As my dad and the strange man walked into the entryway, I covered my chest with the shirt I'd just taken off and ran up the stairs. For some reason I felt a bit exposed, even if it was just a sports bra that they would have seen. It was my underclothing, and I didn't feel comfortable showing it off.

I might have screamed, I'm not sure.

All I know is that I was a mess, I was half dressed, and I was tired. Add to that the fact that I'd completely forgotten than the case worker was going to be here.

I rushed around my room, trying frantically to find something to wear. I didn't want to be under house arrest any more, and here I'd potentially screwed it up. The final check to verify my status and I was late to the meeting.

I put the shirt I'd been wearing back on as I tried to sort through my clothing to find something appropriate.

"AJ?"

"I can't find anything to wear, and I'm dirty, and I don't have my makeup on, and I'm dirty, and I didn't have the opportunity to really make my room presentable."

"AJ."

"I don't have the time, mom. I need to figure out–"

"AJ!"

"What!" I said even as I was turning around.

There in the doorway were my mom, dad, and the case worker. At least I had the decency to blush at that point. If my shirt had still been off then the blush would have been visible over my entire body.

Thank god for small favors.

"Well, I think I've seen enough."

"But, I have girls' clothing, and I don't have any boys' clothing. I'm trying to–"

"Anne-Jeanette, you are not in any way trying to deceive us in your clothing. That is all I'm here to check. I don't see any male clothing in your drawers, nor were you wearing any, that I could see, when you came in. This is good enough for me. As far as I'm concerned, you're good to proceed. I'll make my recommendation to the Judge and then it's up to him."

"Oh."

I waited until I heard the front door open before I slipped into my en suite to begin the process of cleaning myself. Well, cleaning my hair first.

Time disappeared as I went through the practiced motions of un-plaiting my hair and then getting myself and my fiery locks into the shower. Then the real process of wetting my hair completely and then washing it began.

It took time, but I enjoyed the process. It was something familiar to me; it was one thing in my life that hadn't changed, and I hoped that it wouldn't change for a long time to come.

I over-estimated the time it would take me to get my hair done. Apparently I was very motivated to finish it today.

Clean. I'd never before realized how much better I felt getting out of the shower than getting into it. I had my hair loosely coiled around an arm to keep it off the ground, and I carted it over to the bed.

"AJ, would you like me to help you with your hair?"

"Yes, mom, I'd love it."

"So, can I change your hairstyle this time?"

"As long as I can still get into and out of my clothing, I'd be fine with it."

My mom began the process of brushing out my hair, and I just luxuriated in the feel of it.

"Anne-Jeanette?"

"Hmm?"

"How would you feel about having a hairdresser?"

"A hairdresser?"

"I love styling your hair, you know that, but if we're going to do it in different styles, then I figure that we should get a professional."

"But, don't you only get professional makeup artists and hairdressers for famous people?"

"Hiring someone to do something that you can, and should, do yourself is a silly idea. That being said, I don't have the time to spend half an hour to an hour on your hair every day."

"I can just wear it in a braid."

"Yes, but don't you want to try different hair styles? Different looks? And when you go to a prom, don't you want something different to go with your dress."

"Mom, I really don't think I'm going to be going to any prom."

She got a smile on her face that seemed to say that I really didn't know the male mind if I thought that I wasn't going to be asked by more than one boy to the junior prom this year. I gave her a look that said I was just planning on saying no.

She brushed out my hair and just bound it in a number of places with ribbons. It started at the top of my head, and she had to gather the first few inches into a loop to keep it off the ground. It was similar in overall style to my braid, but it felt a lot more feminine to me.

"Mom, I'll think about having a hairdresser. I'm sure there's a lot we can do with my hair that would be pretty."

"And we might decide to cut a few inches so that you can leave it loose."

The thought of cutting my hair, even that little of it, gave me a physical pain in the stomach. "Can we not talk about it, mom? I just don't think I can do it."

"AJ, your braid would only be a little shorter."

"I know, mom, but it would be shorter. I really don't think I could handle that."

"Wouldn't it be nice to leave it loose occasionally?"

That could be nice–having my hair loose. It would be great not having to worry about making sure my braid was done, or that it was looped over my arm.

"Mom, if you and dad really think it would help hire the hairstylist, we'll let her decide. I just can’t."

"Well, good night, Anne-Jeanette. Pleasant dreams."

"Night, mom."

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
The next morning, I had a bombshell for my parents.

"I want to go in to school. I'm tired of sitting around the house. I want to get out and go to new places."

"Okay, we'll get you to school today, then."

Part of the orientation packet for the school was a map and locker information. My books were in my bag already, since I'd packed them before coming down, and I was ready to go to my first day in class.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
The school wasn't as large as I imagined it would be, but it didn't have to be. There weren't many students, all things considered, and about a third of them seemed to be taking classes from home.

It was so strange for my first few classes to be physically going from class to class, and I missed the extra time I got during the day to talk to Jasmine or Kelly, but I was out of the house. I smiled at everyone around me, just happy to be here.

I think that my smile was infectious, because by the end of the day most people were smiling back.

"Hello, Mr. Smoot."

"Hello, AJ. Welcome to class today. Class, I have an announcement to make before we begin. The student council has finalized the plans for the first dance of the year. It will be held in three weeks, and all students are welcome to attend. Like all dances at the school it is a free choice event, so girls, don't be afraid to ask the boy out. And boys, be nice and say yes unless you have specific plans, Trevor."

"Hey, I only did that once two years ago, give me a break. I panicked."

There was general laughter at this, and then we got down to the business of Chemistry.

After class, things got a little more interesting.

I waved to Jasmine on the screen and then watched her log off. I began to gather my books when I sensed a presence in front of me. I looked up into the face of Trevor.

"Hey, AJ."

"Hey, Trevor."

"So, have you been asked to the dance yet?"

I thought to say something sarcastic, pointing out that we only found out about the dance at the beginning of class, and when would I have a chance to get asked yet. Well, for a moment or two I did.

"No, I haven't yet, Trevor."

"Yes, she has. Hey AJ, would you go to the–"

"Hey, I asked her first."

"Tough, I sealed the deal."

They began to argue a bit, and I stepped to the side, trying to avoid the conflict.

"Can you believe these guys?"

"Hi, Andrew. It's kind of crazy."

"Especially since they aren't even waiting for you to answer before going insane. Would you go to the dance with me instead?"

Um, am I the only girl in this school?

My shock must have been apparent on my face.

"You may not have noticed it, but the ratio of guys to girls is about two to one at this school."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I know. It sucks. Well, for the guys anyway. For the girls, you usually get your pick."

"So, why should I pick you?"

"Because I'm being more of a gentleman. That and my girlfriend will understand if I take you to this dance. She decided to ask one of the freshmen to the dance, and suggested I do the same. This is your first year here, so it's almost the same, right?"

"Andrew, I really appreciate the offer, but I'm not sure what tomorrow holds for me, right now, let alone three weeks from now. I've got a condition that might require emergency surgery at any time."

"Can't they correct it before it becomes an emergency?"

"Yes, but it would put me on my back for the recovery period, and I just agreed to help teach a self-defense class while the regular instructor is on her honeymoon."

"No offense, AJ, but you don't look big enough to be able to protect yourself, let alone teach someone else to protect themselves."

"None taken, Andrew. I can protect myself, though."

"Yeah, I just grab your hair, and I have control of the situation."

"Sure, it hurts if you hold me by the hair, but how hard can you hold if I kick you in the crotch?"

"But couldn't I just twist away–"

"Andrew, if you want to see what I'm teaching, come into class on Saturday morning at West Coast MMA. It's a more controlled environment, and they should have protective gear in your size. Things like this always work better with a demonstration."

"Saturday morning?"

"Yeah, bring your girlfriend. I feel that everyone should know how to defend themselves, and it might help her out in the future."

"I protect my girlfriend."

"And while you're here with me? Who protects her at times like these? I appreciate the sentiment, Andrew, but you just can't be there to protect her all the time."

"I'll consider it. I'll be there at the very least."

"See you tomorrow, then, Andrew."

I turned back to watch them arguing between themselves about who would get to ask me out.

"Guys, you should realize something about me."

"What's that, AJ?" Trevor asked.

"I'm a strong-willed person who can make up her own mind. If you'd both presented your positions to me, I might have picked one of the two of you. Because you fought over who had the right to me, I pick neither. See ya."

I walked out the door after that and went out to wait for my ride home.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
"AJ, how nice to see you again."

I laughed at Mr. Reiss. "You just saw me yesterday."

"True. And I wanted to talk to you about that. There was some concern with how you presented yourself that you might need more than a normal schedule of therapy. By that I mean once or twice a month, and at most once a week. I'd like to drop down to once a week, if that's all right with you."

"Sure, how does Monday work for you?"

Mr. Reiss chuckled at me.

"Actually, Friday is a better day. I like to keep this time we have right now open for emergencies with any of my clients. I just had a spot open on Friday at six pm, if you think that will work for you starting next week."

"That sounds fine to me, Mr. Reiss."

"Great. So, tell me about how Anne-Jeanette did at school today."

"Well, I actually went to school instead of staying on the Internet today…"

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
I went right into the women's postage stamp and got stuck–I mean changed. I wondered if the men's locker room was any bigger.

Okay, let me be fair: the locker room had four or five lockers in it, and two shower stalls. It also had a couple of cubicles for changing off the main area. Yes, it was tiny, but not as small as I've been insinuating.

Felipe was busy talking to a father and son on the other side of the raised ring when I came out. He saw me and raised two fingers, which I assumed meant he wanted me to head into training room two.

From what I could tell by the numbers on the doors it looked like there were four training rooms in addition to the main gym area. The latter had a couple of weight bags and three or four speed bags. Most of the area was taken up by the regulation-sized ring.

I went into the indicated training room and began stretching out. I wasn't able to go into a full split, but it was close. I didn't really need to be flexible for my style. After I stretched for a couple of minutes, I began doing a couple of warm-up exercises.

"So, are you going to be my reward for a good session?"

"Hi, I'm AJ. What's your name?"

"I don't need to talk to you to get what I want out of you. Only reason you should open your mouth is if I want to put something in it."

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused, just don't do it again."

This guy was a real prick.

Something I learned early on was that getting angry during a fight cost you speed and agility. You started thinking in a straight line, and your attacks reflected this.

So, I simply shut up and watched him warm-up, and then begin his katas. I wasn't familiar with the style, but I could tell that he'd practiced it a lot. His motions didn't have the inaccuracy of inexperience but rather the sloppiness of over familiarity paired with no real understanding of their application.

This guy would never be great, but he might end up being good.

I watched how he kicked, how he moved. I watched his speed and his footwork.

He never knew what hit him.

"So, you want to spar while we wait for Felipe?"

"A little thing like you?"

"Oh, but it might be so much fun to roll around a bit on the ground with you."

If you couldn't make your opponent angry, make him horny. Blood would be diverted to other parts of his body, and the surge of hormones would focus him on things other than self-preservation.

The slightly glazed look in his eyes told me that he had taken the bait. Good thing, as I didn't really want to have to go to my next ploy of taking off my top.

I made a wild jab at his head, which he easily dodged, and he went in for a grapple on my arm, which I blocked easily.

Then we were off. My wild strikes, versus his almost precise ones. I let him get me into a grapple a couple of times, to keep him interested in things other than the fight, and the feel of his manhood poking me in the ribs told me that it was working.

Then, I went on the offensive and it was over. He was staring up at me from the floor with a dazed look in his eyes. I'd feinted a blow to the chest, he'd blocked and gone for a round house kick.

I turned his block into a hold and kicked his foot out from under him.

"When I asked you your name, I actually was wondering what your name was. For the rest of this training session, you call me either Teacher or God, whichever one your religion allows. You do not look at my breasts or ass. You do not leer. Do I make myself clear?"

"God isn't a girl."

"And you're not a man. Everything in this training room is all topsy-turvy. Get used to it."

"Yes, Teacher," he growled at me.

"Your tone could use improvement, but that is something we can work with if I choose to continue with you after today."

I sneered down at him, "So, if you're done with your beauty sleep, would you mind getting up so we can begin some real training?"

"AJ, could I speak with you for a minute?"

I looked over to where Felipe was standing unnoticed in the corner, and my heart sank. Maybe I wasn't supposed to put this guy in his place. This was a business after all, and he was a customer. The guy had the same idea, and smirked at me as I turned away to learn my fate.

"Stop leering at the girl's backside, Manny!"

I looked back and the guy was actually blushing and looking anywhere but at me. I smiled at that. Maybe things weren't quite as dire as I assumed they were.

"So, AJ–how did you enjoy your time with Emanuel Jacobs?"

"Well, as soon as I got him to toe the line, everything seemed to fall more into place. He's not a bad fighter, but he does seem to have a problem where women are concerned."

When I referred to myself as a woman, I felt a slight twinge. My parents taught me never to lie. Sure, sometimes it was unavoidable, but this?

I needed to get this resolved, and soon or I was going to become a habitual lawyer…I mean liar.

"Is there something wrong, Anne-Jeanette?"

"Sorry, lost in thought a bit. So, are all your male customers a little misogynistic?"

"No, they're not. William just got over a bad breakup. I figured he would hassle you a bit, but when you showed him you were a trainer like anyone else here he quieted down. He really is a good guy, as you saw at the end, I'm sure."

"Yeah, but this guy?"

"I needed to see if you would get angry."

"This guy doesn't have what it takes to get me angry."

"So it would seem. You didn't even flinch when he started caressing your butt."

"He what? I was so focused on getting him on his own butt that I never even…"

"Whoa, AJ, relax. You took care of it already."

"Can I go hit the showers? I need to clean myself off."

"In a minute–can't let Manny think I pulled you up short for your treatment of him."

I smirked at this, "No, we couldn't do that, could we?"

I walked back over to him. "So, your name is Manny, huh?"

"That's right. More man than you could handle?"

"Manny, unless you want people calling you Girlie for the rest of your life, can it!" I glanced at his crotch as I said this.

He paled and the smile left his face.

"It is not our job to be ridiculed and harassed by you. It is our job to try to train you in fighting. While you may have this mistaken impression that fighting includes this ready banter between opponents, I can assure you that isn't the case.

"A real fight is short, and ends as soon as I kick you in the groin."

"You're not that good."

"Felipe, get him some padding so I don't really hurt him."

Manny paled a bit, but kept his grin on. He probably thought the padding would prevent him from feeling anything. Well, it's not my fault he's stupid. He wasn't even wearing a cup.

"Are you sure, Anne-Jeanette?"

"I assume that when he started with you, Felipe, he signed a waiver stating he would not pursue any legal action against the gym should he become hurt due to his own stupidity?"

"It was a little more legalese than that, but basically yes."

"Well, he's in the gym right now, his stupidity is telling him he could stop me. He wants me to prove my point."

"Okay, I'll be right back."

Felipe left the room in search of the protective gear. Manny looked anywhere but at me. He was pale and sweating, and I could almost fell the fear radiating from him.

"Look, Manny, let me clue you in to something. Ego has no place in fighting. It's gotten you this far because you've never actually been in a fight. You thought that a little training would get you the respect you never get in the rest of your life.

"That's all well and good, but it isn't a good reason to fight. You have practiced a lot, but you just don't get it. Fighting is more than throwing your fists. It is understanding that you can rely on yourself to get things done. You can trust yourself to act in a manner that fits the situation.

"I've made my share of mistakes in this regard, trust me, but that doesn't mean that I ever failed to act. If you use fighting to solve your problems with one person by taking it out on another then you simply don't get it."

"But I can't tell my boss…"

"You work for a woman I take it?"

"Yes, and she is such a bi…I mean she is a real stickler for behavior and grooming."

"Then fix your appearance and stop slouching."

"It's not that easy."

"How much time have you spent practicing Savate?"

"I spend some time every day working out."

"Then stop practicing every day. Take some of that time to make yourself presentable. Spend some of that time to improve your behavior."

"But I shouldn't have to change my behavior. I've been in that job for twenty years. I was there ten years before she showed up, and I'll still be there after she's gone."

"Listen to yourself, Manny. She's now been there for as long as you were there before she arrived. She's not going to change. I'm amazed that she hasn't fired you yet."

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, and then smiled.

"You're a strange one, aren't you, Teacher?"

"I am. Well, we can finish up this week without the demonstration. Come back next week and I'm sure Felipe will start your normal session."

"But didn't you tell me…?"

"I told you that you should spend time every day on your job. We all need an outlet once in a while away from our normal lives. Spend time for work on work. Improve yourself there. Then, you can come here and work out the few remaining frustrations you have."

"Thank you, Teacher."

"Now, I want to go hit the showers. See you later, Manny."

Felipe had apparently figured out what I was doing, as he didn't have any protective gear with him. I stuck my tongue out at him as I walked toward the showers.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
I was just walking in the door when my dad turned me around and started the three of us walking toward the car.

"Dr. Sparks wants us to come in. There's something with your blood work that he wants to discuss with us."

"Is it something bad?"

"I don't know. He wanted to talk to us in his office."

We got in the car and drove to the hospital. The scenery passed without much attention from me, thereby disproving that I'm the center of the universe.

We parked and rode the elevator back up to the eighth floor.

As soon as we arrived, a nurse led us back to Dr. Sparks' office, and I sat down. My parents continued to stand.

"Glad to see you here again, AJ. Let me tell you that it's nothing life threatening. I wanted you in here because you have to make a decision sooner rather than later."

"Why? I feel fine."

"Yes, and for another week to ten days you will feel fine. You have a fair amount of Follicle Stimulating Hormone in your system. What that means is your body is preparing for ovulation."

"But, that's a good thing, right?"

"Well, provided that you want to get pregnant, yes it's a good thing. It is the first step in your cycle. However, it means that we have less time that we'd like before we have to get you in for surgery."

"Oh."

"Yes, 'oh'."

"But I have responsibilities, I have people depending on me to–"

"Anne-Jeanette, you must consider your own health before you consider your responsibilities to others," mom said. I know she meant well, but it's not what I wanted to hear.

"I heard from Owen that you are leaning more toward becoming more female, is that accurate?"

I just nodded.

"Okay, then I'd like to schedule your vaginoplasty for Tuesday."

I was numb. So much was suddenly changing in my life. I had offered my services to Felipe, but here I was losing my ability to even do that. Was that what being a woman would mean to me–lost opportunities and reduced options?

"Mom, dad, I want to stop by Theresa's room on my way out, okay?"

"Okay, Anne-Jeanette. We can do that with you."

"No, I want to do it on my own, if that's okay."

Dad nodded at me.

I rode the elevator down and then made my way to Theresa's room. She was moving around the room and packing when I got there.

"Are you going home already?"

"I think I've spent more than enough time here, don't you? Hi, AJ. More tests?"

"No. They just finally got the results back from some tests. Apparently I'm going to have my first period soon, and they want to get everything resolved down there before it happens."

"Well, you seem very calm about all of this."

"Calm? I'm freaking out."

"If this is freaking out…"

I giggled at that. "I have a tendency to suppress my emotions–the bad ones anyway."

"Well, that's good to know. Before all of this happened, you didn't need to consider that you'd be having a period."

"I know, and I'm not sure how I feel about it."

"To tell you the truth, I don't know how I feel about it and I've gone through it a number of times before."

I laughed and Theresa joined in with me.

"So, you're leaving?"

"Not until tomorrow morning, but I'm so tired of this place that I thought I'd get my stuff together tonight so I could leave as soon as possible."

"You know, I don't have your address, or phone number? How can I talk to you if I don't have either of those?"

Theresa snorted at me. "You are something else, AJ. You put me in the hospital, and now you don't want me to leave it."

I blushed and looked away from her.

"AJ, I was joking with you. Lighten up, girl. I didn't mean anything by it."

Something about her was different, and I suddenly observed, "Your casts are gone!"

"Oh, yeah. Apparently they were only cracked a little, and they wanted to immobilize them while I was in a coma to ensure I didn't do anything to them when I woke up."

"Really?"

"Yes. As long as I don't do anything stupid, they should be fine."

I smiled at her, and then she changed the subject.

"So, you didn't come down here to just skirt the subject. What is bothering you?"

"I agreed to teach some self-defense classes while the primary instructor is on her honeymoon. The problem is…"

"The problem is that if you go through surgery, then you won't be able to teach the class for a while."

"Yes, exactly."

"Okay, so you're not going to be able to be as active in the class as you'd like, but that doesn't mean you can't lead the class."

I blinked and then a smile erupted on my face. I could do that. It was such a simple answer, and one my parents would have been more than able to give me.

"I love you, Theresa. You are such a good and intelligent person."

"I wouldn't go that far, AJ. Besides, I thought you were in love with my brother."

"I have a crush on your brother, Theresa. Whether or not I can love him will depend on what type of person he is. I don't know him well enough for that."

She giggled with me, and drew me into a brief hug.

"So, I take it you've decided to go female?"

She was looking at my clothing and hair. Mom had gone with two braids for today. Each one started just behind my ears on either side of my head. Then she pinned the tails together to make a couple of long loops on my back. It was a decidedly girly hairstyle.

The clothing was a denim skirt and a buttoned pale-green blouse.

"You like it?" I said twirling around.

"Well, less chance of putting out an eye than with your long braid."

I smiled at her.

"Well, how 'bout you come show off your new look to my family tomorrow evening?"

"But, I couldn't impose. You're just getting home, and I was the one who hurt you, and–"

"AJ, relax. My family doesn't hold it against you. I told them why you did it, and that you didn’t mean to hurt me."

"But I–"

"AJ! You are a good person. Accept that and come over to my house tomorrow afternoon, okay?"

I sighed, but my smile started to return, and I nodded my acceptance.

"Good. So, you ready to join us as a fully physically female?"

"I think so. It will make it easier to wear feminine clothing, that's for sure."

"I don't even want to know," she said in mock disgust.

"Well, I have to twist it back around and tuck it up between my legs, and then wear a pair of panties one size too small…"

"Why would you have to wear a pair of panties one size too small?" Shawn asked as he entered the room.

I blushed from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes.

"She has a birth defect that will be resolved with surgery soon."

"Tuesday," I said.

"It will be resolved Tuesday. It makes it so that she bulges a bit down below."

"What sort of a birth defect would cause that?"

Theresa and I laughed. He had no idea at all, and it was so funny. We would begin to calm down and then one or the other of us would tip her head toward Shawn and we would break out again.

He was just looking a little confused, and somewhat frustrated. This just caused us to laugh harder.

"She has a malformed clitoris, if you have to know," Theresa said finally.

"Why didn't they fix it when she was a baby?"

"Well, because it only really became apparent recently," I said.

"And that's the reason I keep seeing you in the hospital? Okay, good to know."

Was it really that easy? He thought of me as a girl, so the more obvious reason, at least to me, never occurred to him?

And another lie–or was it really a lie? I admit that in trying to determine if I am really gay–or is that straight since I'm a female?–I've looked at naked women on the Internet. While not exactly in the same place, my penis is analogous to a clitoris. It could be called just a really enlarged…

Anyway, not that I needed to fixate on that for the moment.

"I invited Anne-Jeanette here over to our house tomorrow."

"Really? That's so great!"

Shawn did a bit of a victory dance, and you'd think he just scored a goal or something.

"Wow, I didn't think you cared."

"Oh really? I've been flirting with you as much as I could."

"True, but flirting doesn't mean much. Just means you are a tease."

"Would a tease do this?"

He took me in his arms and kissed me. I have to admit that I'd fantasized about this exact thing, and with him, on more than one occasion. At first I melted into him, and then the panic started. I needed to get away before he hurt me. I tensed up, doing my best not to react and not to punch out. I began to cry with the pain of it all.

I stood there like a statue after he released me. Silent tears began to fall down my cheeks. It wasn't fair. My first real kiss and all I wanted to do was tear him apart. All I could think about were all of the other men who had forced themselves on me.

He reached his arm out toward me, but Theresa stopped him.

"Shawn, go…now!"

"But, Terry–"

"She's been raped in the past, Shawn. Go. She's trying to prevent herself from killing you right now."

Shawn looked at me clearly for the first time since he'd kissed me and saw the anger in my body posture.

"I'm sorry," he said as he left. Theresa shut the door behind him.

I broke down and cried. "I wanted him to kiss me. Why can't I enjoy it? I want him, Theresa. I do. I want to spend time with him, and I want him to be able to hold me."

Theresa put her arms around me and held me. After a moment I relaxed into her and the tears really began to fall.

"Anne-Jeanette, it's not that he can't hold you, but that he tried to take it from you. It was only a kiss, but he didn't let you choose."

"But I wanted him to kiss me."

"But he didn't ask you if you would. He sprang it on you."

"I am just a freak, aren't I?"

"No, you're just broken like all the rest of us are. Shh. It's okay. Shh."

I just cried on her and let out all of my emotion. I didn't even hear the door opening and closing, but I did feel Shawn's arms come around me from the back. Theresa let me go then, and I turned into Shawn and began to cry into his chest.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" over and over I kept repeating it. It was my life preserver on a sea of guilt and pain. I couldn't stop any of them from hurting me, and yet all I could do was try to hurt the one person in the world I actually wanted to be a permanent part of my life.

"It's okay, Anne-Jeanette."

"I would have hurt you, Shawn."

"No, you wouldn't have. I've talked to my sister a bit about you. I would have dropped to the ground and I wouldn't have tried to fight back. I would have eliminated myself as a threat."

"You shouldn't have to be afraid of a girlfriend."

"Well, I'm not afraid of you. I don't fear working on heavy equipment either–doesn't mean I put my hands into moving parts."

"I would have hurt you!"

He didn't answer me, he just put his finger under my chin and gently raised it until I could look him in the eyes. He began to lean forward to kiss me, but then stopped short.

I could feel my heart beating faster, and I could see the desire in his eyes. I licked my lips, waiting for him to continue, but he just waited there. I finally realized he was waiting for me.

I smiled and kissed him.

This kiss was everything that I'd ever wanted.

I was on cloud nine. There was simply no connection between my feet and the linoleum. The smile on my face went on forever.

I'd said goodbye to Shawn, and that I'd see him tomorrow, and then I'd gone back up to Dr. Sparks' office.

"I know it's already agreed, but I wanted to tell you that I'm okay with getting my surgery on Tuesday. How long will I be out of it?"

"Well, each person is different, and if I thought you were in any way sexually active, I'd suggest abstaining for at least three weeks, if not longer, but you should be able to get back to doing light exercise within a couple of weeks and be back up to your current activity in a month to a month and a half."

"That quickly?"

"Well, you will be sore for longer than that–it will be even longer before all of the nerve endings are working correctly–but it shouldn't cause any problems with physical activity after that point."

"Thank you, Dr. Sparks."

"I'll introduce you to the surgeon who will be performing your surgery on Tuesday. I've given instructions for what you can and can't eat beforehand."

"Again, thank you, Doctor."

I was much more calm as I walked out to my parents' car.

"So, when do I start learning how to drive?"

It was hilarious to see the looks of shock on my parents' faces. Yeah, I know. I should have eased into it, but I was ready for the changes that were happening to me. It was time I stopped being a mooch on every aspect of their lives. If that meant that I would need to get a drivers' license and a job, well I already had a job.

Sure, I might not be in the high end world of my parents, but it was a job, and would get me through school at the very least.

And by school, I mean college.

Another worry: which school, and for what, was I going to after I graduated from high school? I had a 4.0 after all, and I would be padding my resume with community service, but of course I had the problem of my juvenile record.

I wanted to blame someone else at that moment for the loss of options I was likely to suffer because of my need to lash out. The only one on whom blame could fairly rest was me.

"Anne-Jeanette, are you listening to me?"

"Sorry, I was just considering where I would be going to college."

"Oh, okay. You're going to college?"

"In a couple of years, sure."

"Like I said, you took your drivers' education class before your sixteenth birthday, so you're not going to need to take that again."

"Good, it was boring."

"You are going to need your six hours with an instructor, and then fifty hours with us in the car," my dad said with a bit of disgust.

"And you have to have your learners' permit for six months," mom said.

"But before, you were talking as if I would be getting the car to myself."

"That was before–before we looked into the requirements–before we learned that they want you to know how to drive before they give you a real license."

"Oh well."

"You're not giving up now, are you?"

"Course not, dad. It just means I get to inflict my driving on you two." The smile I revealed to them had a lot of teeth, and wasn't at all pleasant, or at least I hoped it wasn’t. Mom did a mock shudder, and then they both began laughing. Looks like my intimidation ploy failed.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
There was a strange car sitting in the driveway when we got home.

As soon as we pulled to a stop, a woman climbed out and waddled over to us. That's the only way I can describe how she moved. Without trying to be callous, I was pretty sure that she'd have to enter doorways sideways. She was…round.

Have any of you seen the old movie Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? No, I'm not talking about Willy Wonka with Johnny Depp pretending to be Michael Jackson.

I mean the original with Gene Wilder. For some reason he reminds me a bit of Tom Baker from reruns of Doctor Who…

I'm off on a tangent. Anyway, Violet Beauregard turns into this big blueberry. It might happen in the new one, but Michael Jackson sort of creeped me out at the time, so I never saw the new one.

If this woman had been purple, then I'd swear she was Violet Beauregard all grown up.

Well, not if you go by the 'fix' applied in the book. The method described to fix the children in the book was disturbing. If you've never read it, then I suggest you continue in the bliss of ignorance.

Anyway, she was a little taller than me, almost as wide as I was tall, and had these short arms and legs that sort of poked out here and there.

I think that she was what would be called morbidly obese.

"Louis, I hope I'm not too early."

"Not at all, Caroline. If I'd thought that you would be here before us I would have called ahead."

"No problem. I only got here about ten minutes ago, and I wanted to finish a chapter of my book anyway."

"This is my wife, Amanda."

"Call me, Mandy, please."

"And my daughter, Anne-Jeanette."

"Caroline, can I ask a personal question?"

"I'm fat because I eat too much."

"Then why not eat less?"

"Because I eat when I'm depressed."

"I have no comeback for that."

"I like you, girl. Honest and quick."

"Well, listen, if you help me with my hair, how about I help you with your depression. We can start with a workout routine and get you more active, which will help you lose weight as well as form healthy habits that will release endorphins and counter depression."

"I'm just here for a job, not a life change."

"Caroline, I need help with my hair. I am very particular about my hair. If you start working with my hair, then I'm going to want you here for the long haul. Can you see where I'm going with this?"

She shook her head, but there was a slight gleam in her eye that I took for humor.

"It means that if you die on me, I'll kill you," I grinned at her.

My mom and dad began to laugh and she joined in. She had a light tinkling laugh that just didn't fit with her external appearance. We'd really have to change that.

"Well, let's go in and get to work, shall we?"

We went into the living room, and she began to unplait my hair. She kept up a steady commentary the entire time, and eventually she got up to the final few plaits at my head.

"You have a lot of hair," Caroline said with a note of awe in her voice.

"Yes, it's taken me years to acquire."

She laughed at this.

"Stand please, I want to see the full length."

I stood and she arranged it around me.

"Nice and thick. Beautiful. So, how short can I cut it if I need to?"

I jerked away from her, and she giggled.

"Sorry, but that's about what I figured. I would like to make a suggestion, though. With the length where it is, we are limited in the styles that we can put it into. Everything has to reduce the overall length. I'd like to take off ten to eleven inches, even if I only really need to remove five to get it off the floor."

"Why so much?" I asked with a little fear in my voice.

"Well, if we're going to cut it, then we might as well make it worthwhile. Locks of Love requires at least ten inches in any of their donations."

"Of course, then. Cut away."

She went back out to her car to get her kit. Then she spent a few minutes carefully brushing out my hair. At the end, she measured from the tips and bound my hair. I closed my eyes, but I still heard the grinding snip of the scissors and the slight tug on my scalp.

When she finished, I stood to see if I could tell a difference. My hair fell around my ankles, and didn't drag on the floor. I didn't realize what a problem that was for me until that moment. The thought of my hair going to someone in need also elated me.

And I still had so much of it that I simply couldn't begrudge someone else that little bit I'd lost.

I gave Caroline a hug.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Anne-Jeanette."

We spent the rest of the evening talking styles, and workout possibilities. I think I was more excited about the hair styles she had planned for me, than she was with my planned torture of her body. We'd begin next Monday with that.

She gave me a tiara made of a French braid heading from left to right, and a more traditional braid pinned from right to left. She left a sort of pony tail loose in the back. It ended up about eighteen inches long. I know I'm not doing it any justice in my description. It felt and looked pretty, and it would work very well with my class tomorrow.

"I'll be by tomorrow morning to put it back up. You should really leave it loose when you sleep."

"Okay, Caroline."

She destroyed her work of art before she left. I was sad to see it go, but the loose weight of my hair was a pleasant sensation.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
My last Saturday as a boy, at least physically, I woke up before the sun rose and went into the solarium. I know, I forgot about it in my quick tour of the house, but I always thought of it as part of the deck. The deck extended from it, after all.

This was one of my favorite places in the house and I simply hadn't been here often enough recently. It's kind of like a greenhouse for people. I lay there on the deck chair and watched as the sky brightened in preparation for its queen to appear. The hills put on their livery, and the stars one by one fell from their beds.

The birds were trumpeting her arrival, and I looked to the spot where I knew she would surely appear. Years of practice looking at that horizon prepared me for this moment.

And there she was. The sun. The beautiful queen of the firmament. Leave it to a man to think that the sun was male. Who is the nurturer in our society? A man? Don't make me laugh. All of us still hold a place in our hearts for mother. She was the one I went to with a skinned knee or a broken heart. Dad solved problems. Mom comforted during the unsolvable.

And so the sun: it nourishes the plants with its light; it warms everything within its gaze; and heaven help the fool who steps out of line with her, because they will get burned.

After my morning devotions were over, I went in to wait for Caroline. She soon arrived and fixed my hair up the same way it had been last night.

Then mom and I were off to my class.

Felipe greeted us at the door.

"Mrs. Smith? You could sit in on the class if you like?"

"I would like that, but I don't have any clothing to change into."

"That's fine. We usually encourage our students to wear their normal clothing to class, as that will be what they will most likely be wearing when they're attacked."

"Don't you mean 'if'?"

"I wish. Crimes against women only seem to be on the rise in this country. One in five women will be the victim of rape during their years at college. More than 250,000 women are raped each year. Almost five million incidents of intimate partner abuse occur each year, 1,100 of which result in death.

"That is what we're teaching to avoid here. That is what these women need to learn how to protect themselves from."

I was floored. This was so big, and my little moves were supposed to help them with this?

"Don't worry, Anne-Jeanette. We don't expect you to protect them. We only expect you to prepare them. Evade over subdue."

I had a lot to think about. Andrew was standing next to a pretty blonde when I got out of the locker room.

"Hey, AJ. This is my girlfriend–"

"What Andrew meant to say was that I'm Sandra, his girlfriend."

"But, isn't that what I was saying?"

"No, it wasn't, but you'll figure it out," she smiled sweetly at him and then gave him a peck on the lips.

"Welcome. Felipe, what room am I supposed to be in today?"

"One, Princess Anne-Jeanette."

"Princess?"

"Sure–you're wearing a tiara after all."

I put my hand to my head, and felt the mass of hair up there. I grinned goofily at him and led the way into the training room.

"Good morning, ladies. I apologize for being late."

"Who are you?" asked a big woman in the back. By this I don't mean fat. She looked like she'd easily make two of me: her legs were twice the size of mine, her chest was twice as big as mine, and her arms were each two of mine. She looked like she bench pressed buses for fun, that is when she wasn't picking up jumbo jets and carrying them when they had flat tires.

"I'm the instructor."

"Hardly, missy. You don't look old enough to screw, let alone teach us anything."

"Well, I'm heterosexual, first of all, and yes, I am a virgin. I also have been to Juvie for a full year out of the past five for street fighting. My nose was broken before I decided that I needed to learn how to fight back.

"I'm not suggesting that any of you follow my example. What I did was stupid, if not downright dangerous. However, I do know what I am doing."

"You could have simply made that up."

"Your name please?"

"Hannah." If her name had to begin with H, I expected Helga instead.

"Well, Hannah. I planned on using Andrew here for a punching bag to showcase my skills, but since you've so nicely volunteered…

"Do you need protective gear?"

"I don't, but you might want some."

"Okay, Hannah. I didn't expect belligerence in a self-defense class, but whenever you're ready."

I stood there with my feet at shoulder width–shoulders open to her. I seemed to simply be standing there, but my legs were tense, waiting for her move.

She made the move I expected. She probably thought that if she grappled me, that the fight would be over before it began.

Not that I'm trusting her judgment on this one, but she was probably right.

That's why I wasn't standing there any longer by the time she got to me.

I'm sorry to say I really telegraphed the kick that I let fly to the back of her knee. I wanted the class to see what I was doing.

"I'd like to point out that Hannah has made a number of mistakes, but the most obvious one is this: she is attacking. This is not a street fighting class. This is a self-defense class."

She glared at me from her knees. She swung one of her hands at me and smiled when she got hold of one of my legs.

I kicked out and ripped my leg from her grasp.

"Generally speaking, your legs are stronger than your opponent's arms, let alone his, or her in this case, hands. Use your leverage against her. Also, do not kick at anything above her waist. I only refer to your opponent's waist, because the primary target on any man is his crotch. Kick him there hard enough and the fight is over."

Hannah climbed to her feet and was coming at me again.

This wasn't going to be as easy. There was determination in her eyes, and she was watching my feet. Time for humiliation.

I slapped her just as she got to me and then stomped on her instep.

"There is no such thing as a fair fight for any one of us. Chances are our opponents are going to outweigh us by a great margin. Don't forget that humiliation is almost as good as a strike to the primary target. Pain will stop most people from continuing."

I'd turned my back to Hannah while I was saying this and let her come up behind me. This was the scariest point in this demonstration, and the point where everything could just fall apart. She grabbed me and began to squeeze.

I'd crouched just a bit before she got to me, so I could push up, hard. The top of my head crashed into her jaw. I followed up by crashing the back of my head into her mouth.

She cried out in pain and stumbled backward. I kicked the back of her knee again, and then kicked the other foot out from under her. She collapsed to the floor on her back.

"Normally, if any fight lasts that long you're doing it wrong. This time, however, I was doing my best not to really hurt Hannah."

I put my hand out to Hannah to help her up.

"Do you understand now?"

She nodded sullenly at me, but took my hand and let me help her.

"You are not here to hurt them just enough. There is no 'just enough' in a life or death situation. There is alive, and then there is dead."

I let that sink in for a moment and turned toward a wide-eyed Andrew.

"Still want to give them a demonstration?"

He just shook his head at me, and put his hands over his crotch.

"You rock, AJ!" Sandra said.

I giggled at that.

"Okay, there is only one rule in this class: come through it alive, and unharmed."

One of the girls raised her hand and I nodded in her direction, "But I don't know that I can hurt him." I had to strain to hear her in the quiet of the room. It was almost as if she were embarrassed at the attention.

"What's your name?"

"Rita."

"Well, Rita, either you hurt him, or he hurts, rapes, and/or kills you. Is his well-being more important than your life?"

She shook her head, even if there was some hesitation to it.

"If he is not more important than you, then his well-being is not more important than yours."

Her statement worried me, but I finished my lesson for the majority of the class. After I finished, and the girls were making their way out of the room, I approached Rita.

"Can I speak with you for a moment, Rita?"

"I don't want any trouble, Teacher. I just want to go home."

"To him? I certainly don't know what you're going through, but I can tell that you don't want it to continue."

"You can't know that."

"Rita, you're here."

"Look, I'm sure you're a nice kid, but you're still a kid, Teacher. When you're older you'll understand that not everything is black and white."

"Rita, I'm sorry, but you're a bit of an idiot, aren't you? Look, I have seen my share of bad things in the past. I've experienced my share as well. If you don't want help, then fine. I'm not going to force anyone to improve their circumstances.

"If you want help, then Felipe can get in touch with me. Good luck, Rita."

With that I walked out and went and changed. It seemed that most of the women knew about the sorry state of the locker room and were willing to be stinky for a little while and just went home to shower and clean up.

That suited me just fine, as it meant that there was less of a chance of someone seeing something they shouldn't.

I was becoming a regular liar. I'd told Rita that I wouldn't force anyone to change. That was a lie. I was forcing her to change right now. Manipulation takes several forms. Rita needed someone trying to help her so that she could tell herself she was okay, and at the same time know that someone cared.

I'd been the same way not too long ago. My parents tried to make me change, and I simply appreciated that they where there and fought against that change even harder.

By telling Rita I didn't care, I tore the support structure out from under her. My only hope was that it would be soon enough and she wouldn't become another statistic.

"Teacher?"

I covered up in a towel and got out of the shower. Happily everything she could see would be real. I was beginning to be proud of my breasts, even if I wouldn't be showing them off to just anyone in the near future. Shawn on the other hand…

"Yes, Rita?"

"I was out of line earlier."

"I know. Anything else I can do for you?"

"Why are you being so cold? Why aren't you trying to help me?"

"Because you don’t want me to."

"And that's it, you just give up?"

"If I pushed you, would you change?"

"Well…"

"I have a 4.0 GPA in high school, I am trying to get a boyfriend for the first time, and get off of my house arrest status. I go in for surgery on Tuesday. Also, did I mention that I'm the reason my hopefully soon to be boyfriend's sister was in the hospital."

"But, you're supposed to care about your students."

"Rita. I care that you were in class." This lying thing is tougher than it looks. I didn't know if I had it in me to be the cold-hearted bitch I was trying to appear for her sake.

"Look at me!"

"Okay, what is this all about, Rita?"

"You came to me after class."

"Because I don't want to find out that you got killed, that's all."

"But…"

"What? You want me to care more about your life than you do? Look, Rita, if you're not going to make the changes necessary to ensure your safety, then why should I try to force you to?"

"Because you're human, damnit. It's what people do for each other."

"What do dam nits have to do with this discussion?"

She began to laugh, and then it turned hysterical and she was laughing and crying at the same time. I went over to her and put my arm across her shoulders as she began to scream. She grabbed onto the top of my towel as if it was a life preserver and she were drowning. My mom rushed into the locker room to see if I was all right. She immediately got my precarious predicament without me saying a word.

I transferred Rita to her, and took my street clothing into one of the changing cubicles. I dressed as quickly as possible and then went back out to my mom and Rita. She was still hysterical, but she was beginning to wind down.

Someone knocked on the door and I opened it to find Felipe on the other side.

"Good job with Rita. Beth couldn't ever get her to open up, and both of us were afraid she was simply not going to show up some week."

"Beth is the regular teacher?"

"Yes, she's the instructor for our self-defense class."

"Okay."

"Here, have a stack of cards. Beth used to hand them out to anyone in Rita's position. It has the number for a women's shelter."

"Can I borrow a pen?"

"Sure."

I wrote the number for my private line on the back and handed the pen back to him. "Thanks, Felipe."

"You're welcome, Princess."

I shook my head at him and went back into the closet.

"Rita?"

"We moved to the bench, AJ."

"Thanks, mom. How are you feeling, Rita?"

"I still don't know what I'm going to do. He told me not to go back to this class, but it is the only time I get away from him–the only time I get for myself."

"Rita, this is a decision you have to make for yourself, but there's the number of a women's shelter on this card. I put my personal number on the back."

"I couldn't possibly."

"Okay. I can give it to the next girl. Thanks for the time you spent in my class, Rita."

"Wait."

"Yes?"

"I'll take the card, Teacher. But I don't make any promises about using it."

"It's not as if it were printed on gold, Rita. Good luck in your life."

"I don't get you. One minute you're comforting me, the next you're kicking me out the door."

"Rita, do you want me to solve your problems for you?"

"No."

"Then why would I solve your problems for you?"

She opened her mouth to speak, and then just closed it and smiled.

"I do hope you come back, Rita."

"I'll think about it."

After Rita walked out the front door of the gym I began to let the emotion I'd been holding in have its escape. I collapsed on one of the chairs along the wall by the office. I was shaking and couldn't get myself to stop. I hoped that this was the right thing to do, but my fears told me that I'd just sent that woman back into the lion's den, without so much as a bullwhip, although, come to think of it, I'd just given her a stool. Hopefully she'd use it.

"Come on, Anne-Jeanette, let's go home."

I nodded mutely, and followed my mother out the door to our car.

It was a very subdued ride home as I tried to examine everything to determine if this had been the right approach. This entire situation was beyond my experience. While I spoke to her, I was sure that I was doing right by her. Now, I wasn't quite so sure.

We pulled up the long drive to the house, and I just sat there for a while. I was staring off into space. There was a tap at the window and I looked up into his eyes. Shawn was there to give me a ride over to his house.

Crying felt like the right thing to do in that moment, and he pulled the door open and took me into his arms.

"What's wrong?"

"I think I did more harm than good today."

"Why do you day that?"

"I was a complete bitch to a woman in need, because I assumed that she'd never accept any help. I was projecting my own response to the situation onto her, and now I think I might have done the wrong thing. She's going back to an abusive situation and it's all my fault."

"AJ, how can that be your fault?"

"Because I didn't stop her."

"AJ, it's not your fault. If she chooses to go back to her situation, that is her choice."

"But I should have tried harder."

"How?"

"Made it more enticing?"

"AJ, it's not your job to save anyone but yourself. I know, that's callous, but who can you really change but yourself?"

"I can try."

"And people can say no. Come on, let's go meet Theresa at my place."

"But…"

"You have two choices at this point: you can wallow in guilt over your actions, or you can come over to my house and meet my family."

"What if I want to do both?"

"Then that's your personal choice."

He held his hand out to me and waited for me to take his hand before pulling me into an embrace. I only tensed for a moment before I put my arms around him and hugged him to me.

"I…" love you Shawn. There was no way I was finishing that sentence aloud. Even I knew it was too soon–I was too young, and at the most it was infatuation with probably just a touch of lust–but he was the only thing I wanted.

"I know."

I didn't say anything audible, what did he know?

"Come on, Princess Anne-Jeanette. Your chariot awaits."

"Princess?"

"You are wearing a tiara after all."

"Shawn, how do you know Felipe? You two seem really similar sometimes–like your sense of humor right now."

"That's a long story, and I don't want to stand here telling it. Let's get into my car so I can begin on the way."

He guided me to his vehicle and opened my door for me. I gratefully slid into the seat and he shut the door behind me.

"I love the hair, by the way."

"Shawn, you're stalling."

He continued to do so as he started the car and began to drive.

"Shawn?"

"Look, I'm afraid of how you'll react to me when you find out, and I'm just soaking in your regard before I destroy it."

"Look, Shawn, there's pretty much nothing that you could tell me that would destroy how I feel about you."

"Even if I told you I was gay?"

My heart skipped a beat, and my stomach fell out from under me. There was no way that he could possibly know about me, was there? Did Theresa tell him? Did she even know?

"Did you think I was male when you kissed me yesterday?"

"No."

I did my best not to let my relief show on my face. I wanted children, and I wanted Shawn to give them to me, at least at this moment.

"Then I don't think you're gay. Even if you were, that wouldn't be a problem with me."

"How can you be so calm about this?"

"Are you gay, Shawn? Or bisexual?"

"No. I'm not. But my secret is as bad as that."

"Look, Shawn, there is nothing wrong in my book with being gay. Whether I was in a male or a female body, I would like boys. It's who I am."

"Look, this is getting a bit uncomfortable for me."

"Then just tell me your secret."

"Felipe is gay."

"That's his secret, and I kind of figured but I wasn't going to say anything."

Shawn took a deep breath.

"Are you going to tell me you had sex with him once and it didn't mean anything?"

"What?"

"Sorry, ignore me."

"I wanted to. But that is later in the story."

"Fine," I said with a smile.

"I was sixteen and finishing up my doctorate, so this was a couple of years ago. He was one of the students in a class I was teaching. When the course ended I ran into him and his boyfriend Mark and we hit off a friendship. They were twenty-one, but most of my friends were older than me.

"Back then, Felipe was into street fighting. Nothing like you, from what I hear, but he did it. It was a rush going out with them. Sometimes it would be a big group of us, and sometimes just the three of us. We narrowly escaped getting arrested a few times."

I sat there letting him talk. I was excited at where I thought the story might be going, but scared at the same time. Would I be giving up the best chance at being with Shawn so I could have the chance to have children?

"I was falling for Felipe, I think. I don't think it was sexual in any way, but I did have a crush on him. He was so alive, while all I'd ever known was school. The three of us were out looking for a fight one day, when we thought that we found the perfect group. There were three of them, and it just seemed fated.

"We started trash talking back and forth, and then Mark threw a punch…"

Shawn paused for a long time, and I thought he might just stop there. Eventually he began to talk to me again.

"The leader of their little group pulled a gun out and shot Mark. Felipe wrestled him to the ground while I called the police.

"I don't think I really recovered for nearly a month. Mark died in my arms as I tried to stop the bleeding. Everything passed in a haze. The next thing I clearly remember I was kissing Felipe and trying to get his pants open. That was a month after the killing, and I just needed to feel something I think.

"He pushed me away and told me to go home."

"And that was it?"

"Yes, I kissed a boy and I liked it."

I could tell that he was trying to put some humor into this, but there was a lot of fear as well.

"If this is so painful to you, then why tell me at all?"

"Because I am afraid I might be gay."

"You kissed me yesterday, remember?"

"But, I was forcing myself."

"With tongue."

"It felt right at the time."

"Your dick was poking me in the ribs afterward when you hugged me." Yes, a little crude, but I was tired of the banter. It was making me uncomfortable as well.

"See, I knew I would disgust you."

I put my hand on his zipper and pulled. I only hesitated for a moment before I stuck my hand in his pants.

"Shawn, you think of me as female, right?"

"Yes," he said a little breathlessly.

"Then we don't have a problem."

I zipped up his pants with more difficulty than I'd unzipped them.

He began laughing at that point.

"You tease."

"Yep, but it proved my point, didn't it? All I had to do was get close to doing something and you reacted positively."

"Well, I expected you to start doing something."

"And the thought of me doing it did the rest."

"Oh? I guess you might be right."

"Trust me. I've tried to get off thinking of being with a woman–tried really hard."

"AJ, could you not talk about that, please?"

"Why?"

"The thought of you and another woman is making it hard for me to concentrate on the road."

"Men!" I said with disgust. How could the thought of me cheating on him make him horny? I would never understand the heterosexual male mind.

"You're telling me that the thought of Felipe and I getting into it didn't arouse you just a little?"

I had to think about it. Did I even imagine the two of them getting into it? No, I didn't. It was the thought of Shawn getting aroused by my penis that got me there; the thought of him holding onto my breasts as he…

"No, it didn't but I really think we need to change the subject right now."

"Why?"

"Because I really want to have sex with you right now, and it definitely wouldn't be a good idea."

"Oh." He sounded disappointed, but there was a huge smile on his face. The smile would probably disappear as soon as he saw what I hid in my panties, but I could live with that. Tuesday couldn't come soon enough at this point.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
The rest of the ride passed without any further sexy talk, or much talk at all. I was calming my hormones so that I could walk at all normally when we got there.

His house wasn't as big as mine, but it was bigger than I'd expected. Okay, that has so many sexual connotations for me right now.

Bad, AJ, get your mind back on the story.

Shawn walked around to my side of the car and opened the door for me. I swung my legs out and he helped me up. I hugged him for a moment and felt something against my ribs again.

I just had to smile at the reaction I was able to provoke and we went inside.

"Anne-Jeanette!"

"Theresa!"

We hugged as if we hadn't seen each other in a month instead of the few hours since yesterday.

"So, my brother was a gentleman I hope?"

"At least until he propositioned me."

Shawn went beet red and Theresa and I just laughed. I went over and hugged him to let him know I was just teasing. He leaned in and we kissed. It curled my toes and sped my breathing a bit.

I pulled back before we embarrassed his sister.

"It must have been a good proposal for that reaction."

It was my turn to go red.

It was a pleasant evening shared with friends, and hopefully future family. His parents were sweet and the dinner was fabulous.

"Anne-Jeanette, I think I should probably drive you home, since I don't think we can trust my brother after dark."

"Theresa!"

"Shawn! Kiss your girlfriend and we'll get going."

We kissed, briefly, and then Theresa drove me home.

I hurried up to my room to call Shawn. Sure, I'd just seen him, but I wanted to talk to him some more. You know, get an after-action report from him.

The red message light on my phone was blinking when I got there.

I looked at it a bit confused, and my confusion turned to fear as I heard Rita's voice begin to speak.

The whispered voice of Rita came out through the handset as I sat there in horror.

"Teacher, I have to leave him. Tonight he beat me because I chose to go to your class, and broke my leg. He took me to the hospital and we only just got back. I need help getting out of here, because of this cast on my leg. This isn't something I can do alone anymore.

"Please help me. My address is…"

I wrote down the address and listened to the message again. It was left a couple of hours ago, and I only hoped I wouldn't be too late.

"Mom! We need to go."

"What's up, Anne-Jeanette?"

"Rita needs help. She called two hours ago. How could I have been so stupid? I should have stayed here to get her call so I could be there. Now, she's been sitting there for two hours wondering if I was actually going to come, or dead, or–"

"AJ, just get in the car. We can't change the past, but you're delaying the future."

I got in the car and my mom climbed into the driver's seat. Whatever happened with this, I needed to get myself a cell phone. It had always been something I assumed would get broken while I was wandering the streets and fighting. Now that I was making connections with people, I needed to be able to stay in contact.

The drive seemed to take forever, but really only took a few minutes.

I got out and rang the doorbell.

"Hi, I'm here to see Rita."

The man who opened the door just stood there looking at me. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

He did look sort of familiar, but I couldn't place where I'd seen him before.

"I'm sixteen, so I doubt it. We probably don't run in the same circles."

"Have you ever gone to court for a ticket? I might have seen you there."

Then it struck me: he had been the bailiff when I was in court. The blood drained from my face. I couldn't hurt him, or risk my own freedom.

If I just let it go, then I risked Rita's life.

"You do know me."

"And you know me. Can I talk to Rita please?"

"My wife isn't up to seeing visitors right now."

"She called me and asked me to come."

It was his turn to go pale. "You'll just have to come back later."

He was stepping back to shut the door when I found my opening. I slipped in past him and rushed toward the back of the house.

"Rita! Rita!"

There wasn't a sound, from the house. I heard the bailiff yelling at me, and could hear his feet pounding after me.

I ducked into the last room and there she was. There was blood all over the bed, and it looked as if someone had taken a hammer to her cast.

I rushed over to her. I didn't know what to do. I felt along her neck for a pulse, but I didn't know if I was getting it right. There wasn't any pulse I could feel, but then I heard her moan softly.

"Now you've done it." I heard from behind me, and I felt a hand grab onto my shoulder.

I spun and kicked out, catching my assailant in the ribs. Something cracked, and I hoped it wasn't me. He made a grab for me again, but I ducked under his clumsy movement and grabbed his belt with both hands. I wanted leverage for this one, and I thrust my knee up as hard as I possibly could.

He collapsed into a writhing mass on the floor, and I ran out to the car.

"Call the police, mom. Rita's hurt bad."

"You call the police, I want to check on Rita."

She handed me her phone, and I followed her in. The bailiff had puked in the corner and was still lying in the fetal position. Briefly I considered kicking him a few more times, but I didn't want to ruin my case any more than I already had. I was already in so much trouble that I didn't need to aggravate it.

I'd just gotten through to 911 when my mom reached for the phone. I gave it to her and she talked about Rita's condition. I sank down on the ground and just watched the scene.

When the animal in male form realized we'd called in the police, he tried to get up and run away. I tripped him.

"Unless you want me to attack you again, I suggest you not try to run."

"You bitch, I'll make you pay for this."

"I'm already paying for it, and Rita has paid in spades–or blood: your pick."

"I have friends in the girls' juvenile detention center."

"Good for your friends. And good for me that the boys' center is my more likely destination right now."

"Aaron?"

"Got it in one."

The blood completely drained from his face and he pissed himself.

I couldn't help but smile at his reaction. It seems I had a reputation with certain people that was hard-earned and well-deserved.

"Yes, that's right. Aaron Joel Smith, but call me Anne-Jeanette please."

He did a guppy impression so I continued.

"Rita was in my class today. I tried to get her to leave you, but she was too loyal for her own good. Probably thought that you were the façade you show the world, and not the hurt little boy who is lashing out at everything around him.

"Do you know how pitiful you are?"

"It's not my fault. She just makes me so angry."

"No one can make you angry. It is your own choice. It has always been your choice."

There was a knock on the front door. My mom had already left, and she ushered a couple of EMTs and a police officer into the room.

"Officer, I want to press charges against this boy for assault. She broke into my house and attacked my wife and me."

"And then called the police on herself? I find it curious that you weren't the one who called the police."

"She wouldn't let me. She's trying to take my wife away from me."

"After she beat your wife half to death?"

He just stopped talking.

"We'll have to sort this out later." He reached for the radio handset clipped to his shirt and keyed the mic. "Dispatch, this is 1438."

"Go ahead, 1438."

"We're going to need another officer out here."

"We'll have one there in about five minutes."

"Thanks, dispatch."

I just smiled over at the bailiff. This was so not going according to plan for him. It wasn't going according to plan for me either.

I watched as the EMTs checked her vitals and strapped her to a backboard. They lifted and carried Rita out. The sound of sirens receding was the best sound I'd heard all day.

Mom came over and sat down next to me.

"I'm sure that it's going to be all right, AJ."

"How can you tell, mom? She's in the hospital because I didn't do enough."

Mom wrapped me into a hug and I just sat there feeling her love.

A second officer came into the room, and gestured for me to rise.

"Can I talk to you for a minute, miss?"

I followed the officer out to the living room."May I ask what you're doing here?"

"I received a call from Rita about two hours ago, and only recently checked my messages. She said she was in trouble, so I drove over. Her husband wouldn't let me see her, so I trespassed and ran to their room. I found Rita covered in blood. Knowing that her husband was the only person in the house, and fearing for my life, I subdued him when he grabbed me."

"That sounds rehearsed."

"It's the truth, and I've done this little dance before. Also, I have an airtight alibi. You can check to see where I was exactly all day."

"How's that?"

I lifted the leg of my pants to show the tracking anklet.

"That won't tell us if you beat Rita."

"It will tell you how long I was here, and where I was. So, it will give you some idea if I had any time to do so."

"Well, we'll have to take you in until while we verify your story."

"Okay."

"What's your name?"

"Legally? Aaron Joel Smith. We haven't had time to get it changed."

The officer did a double take.

"You're a…guy?"

"No, I'm a girl who has a penis. I have a uterus and ovaries too."

"This is so…I'm out of my depth here."

"If this had happened next week, it wouldn’t be an issue. I'm getting corrective surgery on Tuesday, or that's the plan."

The officer squirmed a bit.

"You're kind of open about this, don't you think?"

"Well, it's not like I am going to be able to hide it, and legally I'm still Aaron."

"You don't look like a boy."

"Thank you," I said, blushing.

The second officer came, and I was put into the back of one of the cars while the bailiff was put into the other.

We were driven down to the station, and after some processing I was put into a holding cell with a number of other women.

"What are you in here for, Princess?" I really didn't like how the speaker was looking at me, and figured that this was like any other penal situation that I'd been in.

"I beat a guy up for almost killing his wife."

"Little thing like you?"

"Yeah, I was under house arrest at the time for street fighting."

She started laughing and tried to get the others to join in.

One of them was just staring at me.

"You're the Valkyrie, ain't ya?"

I looked at her blankly.

"It's what I heard ya called–that flaming red hair. But usually they say you wear that impossibly long braid."

I just continued to look at her.

"Yeah, small girl with a long red braid–fights like hell itself. Couple of weeks ago she took on a gang of forty people all by herself."

"It was only eight, actually," I was really blushing now.

The first woman's eyes bugged out. "You're the Valkyrie? Shit, forget everything I said. In fact, forget I ever said anything. I saw you fight once–didn't recognize you without the braid."

I found myself sitting alone on the bench on one side of the cell, while the other women huddled on the other side of the room, trying to stay as far from me as possible.

I spent the time thinking about what they'd said. Apparently I had a street name, and they all thought I was female. It wasn't untrue, but when I'd been pretending to be male…well when I thought I was male.

I didn't know how I felt about 'Valkyrie' as a street name either.

Some of the things I'd heard about them weren't all that complimentary.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
I woke with a start. Someone was sliding their hand along my leg toward my crotch. I grabbed the hand and twisted it back around on itself until the person cried out in pain. Then I sat up and looked around. The other girls in the cell with me were laughing at the unfortunate whose arm I'd just half-broken.

The light coming in through the window told me that it was morning. I was grimy, and sore from sleeping on the bench all night. Through the course of the day, in ones and twos, the other girls were taken from the cell and our numbers dwindled. They fed us a couple of times, but nothing I'd pick for myself.

Just when I thought that I was going to be here until Monday, my expectations were shattered again.

"Anne-Jeanette Smith?"

I stood and walked over to the door.

"Come with me, please."

I followed the officer into an interrogation room. My lawyer was sitting there already, as were a couple of detectives.

"What's going on, Mr. Davies? How come I had to stay in jail all night?"

"It was just a holding cell, Anne-Jeanette, and we're trying to get to the bottom of it now."

"Your client assaulted an officer, Mr. Davies."

"My client protected herself against a man who was attempting to murder his wife."

"Your client is male, so can we please–"

"I have here medical proof that my client is female, so let's all skip the bullshit. She came to the aid of a student, who had left her a message saying she was afraid for her life. This student's husband, Mr. Julian Thoreau, had beaten her earlier in the evening and broken her leg.

"Rita Thoreau, the student in question, called my client in fear for her life. When my client arrived, Mr. Thoreau refused entry to his house, at which point my client performed misdemeanor trespass to determine the state of Mrs. Thoreau. She found Mrs. Thoreau almost dead–"

"Is almost dead a legal term now?"

"Well, what would you term her?"

He tossed some photographs to their side of the table. I didn't even remember anyone taking pictures of the scene, but mom must have done it with her cell phone.

"We'll concede the term."

"With that before her, my client feared for her life and used the skills that she teaches other women to prevent harm to herself and further harm to Mrs. Thoreau."

"Wait, you mentioned before that Mrs. Thoreau is a student, and now…"

"She teaches self-defense at West Coast MMA."

The detectives looked a bit shocked at the news, but they quickly regained their composure.

"So, what your saying is that all that happened was a case of misdemeanor trespass, and everything else was justified."

"Exactly."

"That's not the story that Mr. Thoreau tells."

"The person who is facing charges of assault and attempted murder?"

"Fine, that will be everything that we need from your client today. Anne-Jeanette, you are being placed under house arrest again. You have a hearing on Tuesday morning to determine what else will be done about this."

"I won't be there."

"You have to be there."

"No, I won't. I'm going in for surgery on Tuesday. You're all just going to have to reschedule, because I really don't think that I'll have a life if I die."

The detectives glared at me, but one of them nodded.

"Mr. Davies, can we just go home now?"

"Sure, AJ. Let's get you home." Turning to the detectives, Mr. Davies made one final statement before leading me out of the room.

"I'll be making a formal complaint about leaving my client, a minor, all night in a holding cell with adult women and limited supervision."

"That wasn't–"

"No, it wasn't something that should ever have been done. I don't care if you think of Mr. Thoreau as a cop. It shouldn't have happened."

I rode home in silence and then quietly walked up to my cell. A few short days of freedom, and now I was restricted again.

How long was it going to take to get my life back in order?

- - -Warning: This chapter deals with attempted suicide. Reader discretion is advised.- - -
Sunday evening was the worst time I'd spent in my room since I'd finally realized who I was. AJ, the doll, looked down on me sadly as if to say, 'I'm sorry it turned out this way.'

"I'm sorry too, AJ. You know, I'm going to have to give you a different name if I have any hope of not completely confusing anyone else I talk to about you."

'Then just don't tell them.'

"Easy for you to say. You're a doll and my imaginary friend from childhood. I'm the only one you talk to."

'Nah, I talk to the dust bunny up here. Do you ever dust this shelf?'

Sure, it had only been my own thoughts, but I started to laugh. I wonder if this is what Jeff Dunham is like at home?

"Someone's in a good mood."

"Hey, mom."

"Hey, yourself."

"Am I in trouble?"

"Not with me, or your father. We're actually very proud of you. Scoot over. I brought supplies and I want to attack your hair."

I smiled and moved over to the edge of the bed. Mom began to remove my tiara of hair.

"You know, this was really comfortable on Saturday morning, but it's just gotten irritating recently."

"Probably because of the bobby pins in there to keep it in place."

"And my head itches and I can't scratch the right places."

"We'll get it brushed out, and that should take care of most of the itches."

I sat there for a moment, and then I began to squirm a little. Something occurred to me, and I wasn't sure I was ready to bring it up.

"Anne-Jeanette, sit still."

"Sorry, mom."

I tried to sit still, but I felt like I was coming out of my skin.

"Anne-Jeanette. Please hold still. You're worse than a two-year-old right now."

"Sorry."

I tried again to sit still, but decided that until I got my mind on something else, or simply talked to my mom about this, that I wouldn't be able to move on.

"Mom, how do I know when I'm ready to have sex?"

My mom stopped brushing my hair, and sat there for a moment or two.

"This is about Shawn, isn't it?"

"Yes…"

She began to brush my hair again.

"Anne-Jeanette, I can tell you all day long that you're too young, or that you don't have the right equipment, but in the end, no matter what I say, the fact that you're asking me that question means you've decided you're ready."

"Mom…"

"No, I don't approve. Especially not before your surgery, and probably not until you're married."

My mom took a deep breath before she continued.

"Honey, I was your dad's first, but he wasn't mine. The first man I slept with was handsome and funny. At least I thought so at the time. We'd been dating, off and on, for almost two years. I was sure that he was 'the one' and that we'd live happily ever after.

"He dumped me as soon as we had sex. He said he didn't date sluts."

"Oh, mom."

"I don't figure that Shawn is anything like that boy, considering that my father told me repeatedly he didn't want me dating him. Neither your father nor I have that sort of a feeling about Shawn. We've talked about it.

"That doesn't change all the other problems associated with having sex with him."

"I'm sure he doesn't have any diseases."

"Really? You've asked? And what about getting pregnant?"

Oh, yeah, sex equals pregnancy.

Both of those concepts regarding me had been in my head. I wanted to have sex, preferably with Shawn. I wanted, eventually, to get pregnant.

I'd never considered that having sex with Shawn could get me pregnant. There were parts of my mind that still thought of me as male. Boys get people pregnant, they don't get pregnant.

And while I shouldn't have sex right after my surgery, I was apparently ovulating right now. If I did have sex then, I would be most likely to become pregnant.

Could it be that some of my drive to be with Shawn right now was my body saying it wanted to be pregnant?

And this was going to happen to me every month?

"Mom, do you get more horny before your period?"

"Actually, no. I don't. And I find this line of questioning a bit uncomfortable."

"Sorry."

I calmed down a bit after that, but some thoughts still concerned me. Well, two more days and I'd have a reason to avoid Shawn in a more intimate setting for a while.

I spent the rest of the day with my hair loose and flowing. It was strange after years of keeping it in at least a braid, but it was also freeing in a way too.

I could take care of my hair more easily right now than I could have just last week.

I walked past the mirror in my room, watching how my hair flowed.

"Hey, beautiful."

"Shawn!"

I ran over to him and kissed him fully on the lips. I felt something begin to grow between us and I released him and giggled.

"Hey, you."

"I love you, Shawn."

"What?"

Oh, crap.

I began to blush, and tried to hide myself in my hair. Hiding my face was easy.

"Anne-Jeanette, I–"

"I know, it's too soon, and I shouldn't have said it."

I sat down on my bed with my back to him. Still hiding my face with my veil of hair.

He put his hands to the sides of my face and then pushed back my hair. He looked up into my eyes–from a kneeling position in front of me–searching for something there.

He must have found what he was looking for because he moved in for a kiss, and I let him come. Everything but my need for him disappeared as we continued to kiss. He gently laid me down on the bed, and moved over on top of me. Our torsos were closer in size than our heights would suggest.

I was completely lost in that kiss, but even so I felt his manhood pressing into me.

Everything my mom had told me was there, but I didn't care. I wanted him. I needed him.

I loved him.

The realization finally hit me that I couldn't have him. I was empty without him, and I couldn't have him.

I began to cry, and I just lost all of the heat that I'd been building up.

"I can't do this. I'm sorry."

"Do what? We're just kissing, AJ."

"No, this is foreplay, and you know it. I know you want me, but I can't have sex with you."

"But…"

I cried ever harder, and rolled out from under him. I stuck my nose to the wall, and he slid behind me and held me. I didn't deserve this man. I shouldn't be here. I tried to get up, and he held me in place.

Panic began to well up in me. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. Shawn holding me shouldn't scare me, but it did.

He wasn't weak, and I had no leverage. I couldn't get free, no matter how I pushed. He was keeping me there with the strength of his arms.

Panic over took me then and I began to scream and push. I had to get out of there.

"Let me go. I have to go. Please let me go."

I was sobbing and pushing, but his arms were immobile.

"Let me GO, SHAWN!"

"AJ."

"I need to get up. Let me go, please!"

I was hysterical. I had to get out of here, but I couldn't. It was that first night in Juvie again. They had come for me and I wasn't ready for them. They were getting ready and laughing.

I began using my elbows, and kicking my feet. My attacker relaxed his grip a bit, and it was my turn. I threw him off my bed and whirled around to begin my attack. I pulled my arm back to throw my first punch, and there was Shawn with a bloody face, and fear in his eyes.

I must have slammed my head into his face while I was frantic to get free.

Then the fear registered.

I was just like Rita's husband. I was a monster.

"I'm sorry," I cried as the tears began to poor down my face.

All of the ways that I'd considered of removing myself in the past flashed through my mind. One of them would work in this situation. I needed to do something–anything–never to see that look on Shawn's face again.

The pool.

I didn't trust myself not to try to swim to the surface, so the fact that the pool cover was on was perfect. I would dive into the pool, and the cover would impede me enough that I'd not be able to get out.

This I knew from personal experience. I jumped into the pool with the cover on when I was seven and almost drowned.

Today I hoped to fix that.

I dived in and took a deep burning breath of the chlorinated water. The struggle began, but all that I could draw in was water, and a small smile overtook me in the midst of my panic.

I'd finally succeeded at one thing in my life. The burning continued, but it didn't matter as everything began to go black.

Just before I lost consciousness, I felt something grab onto my arm, but I was too weak to fight back.

Then everything went dark.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
There was no light, or tunnel, or anything. There was just a moment in which nothing mattered, and I was floating in the blackness. Then, a pain in my chest and lips pressed against mine. I began to realize that my chest was cold, and I wondered what had happened to my shirt.

"Anne-Jeanette, you don't get to leave me that easily."

"It's better this way. I can't hurt anyone anymore."

"You also can't make anyone happy anymore either."

"But, all I do is hurt people."

"I should have let you go."

"Why don't you then?"

I opened my eyes and looked at the dripping wet boy sitting above me.

"Let me go, Shawn. I'm not worth the aggravation."

I was surprised at how calmly I was talking to him. His serene expression was almost more confusing.

"I just tried to commit suicide. Why are you so calm?"

"Because I just saved your life, you stupid crazy beautiful wonderful girl. Because I love you, and would be an idiot to let a little thing like a bloody nose and my own stupidity ruin us."

"But I hurt you. I'm an abuser."

"I restrained you when I know you have issues. I'm the one who was wrong here. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Shawn, I have something to tell you."

"Can't it wait?"

"No, it can't."

I lay there looking up into his eyes, knowing he'd likely be repulsed by what I said next, or worse be even more turned on. It would destroy anything that our lives could be together, but I had to stop lying.

"I'm a boy, Shawn."

He looked confused, "What are you talking about, Anne-Jeanette?"

"I look like a boy down there. I'm going into surgery to fix that so my first period won't kill me, but I have a penis. I'm sorry, but I'm not the girl you think I am."

"But you have breasts."

I looked down at my chest and realized I was showing my bra to the world.

I blushed and tried to cover up.

"That's because I am genetically female."

"Well, you've got the inability to be logical down pat."

"Shawn!"

"It's true. You tell me first that you're a boy that has a penis and is going to have a period. You're one or the other, Anne-Jeanette. Are you a boy or a girl with a penis?"

Was it that simple? Could it be that I was making this all more complicated that it had to be?

"I'm a girl with a penis."

"Okay, then. Can I see it?"

"Shawn!" I blushed at him.

"Well, you are trying to convince me that I'm not gay. I want to see you naked."

"But, my parents…"

"I don't think they need to be a part of this."

I blushed some more after that. He led me by the hand up to my room. I took a deep breath and turned my back to him. My jeans were really difficult to take off, and I think that I might have wiggled my behind a bit as I worked them down. Then I slipped off my bra and panties.

I slowly turned around.

Shawn looked me up and down, "Ok, but some clothing out. You've got a sexy body, but your penis is weirding me out."

"What?"

"It's kind of a turn off–ruins the image I have of you as a girl."

I put on some clean dry panties and then turned back toward him, "This any better?"

"I think you need to put on more clothing than that."

"Why?"

"You know why, you tease. That makes you look so feminine it hurts."

"I could relieve some of that pressure for you."

"Nope, sorry. What I want you can't give me."

"And what do you want?"

He just looked at me and I giggled and began to get dressed.

"Anne-Jeanette?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't do that again, please?"

His arms came around me from behind and cupped my breasts. I just melted into him as he played with my nipples a little.

He stopped suddenly and let me go.

"Shawn!?"

"Well, I figure that turnabout is fair play."

I slapped him on the arm and finished getting dressed. We really needed to stop doing this or the two of us would be in a very intimate relationship before either of us was ready for it.

Hormones really pissed me off sometimes.

We went downstairs to find something to do, and spent time with my parents just having fun. Neither of them commented about my wet hair, but mom had a knowing smile. I let her continue to think whatever it was she was thinking.

Monday I was stuck in my room for school again, but that was more the norm than anything else.

Tuesday couldn't come soon enough in my opinion.

I went to bed that night hoping that nothing else would happen to cause problems with this perfect change to my life.

My last thought upon falling asleep was that I wanted to show Shawn my new equipment as soon as I felt up to taking our relationship forward.

Monday morning dawned bright and clear, but I was already up and moving. I couldn’t let myself get bogged down in the memories of the night before. It wasn’t just that I’d actually tried to kill myself that I was trying to avoid. I’d told Shawn that I loved him, and then I tried to kill him.

How can I teach women to avoid abusers when I myself am an abuser?

I didn’t have time for that right now. Caroline would be arriving soon, at least I hoped so. She was a conundrum to me. She had a love of life to her, something I’d seen in the care she took of my hair, but then she let her body go, which I could tell bothered her. I only hoped I would do less harm than good this morning.

“Good morning, Caroline,” I said when she finally arrived.

“Morning…look, AJ I don’t think that…”

“You can do this? You think I let just anyone touch my hair?”

“It’s gorgeous hair.”

“And it is my one feature that is mine and no one else’s. It is my one true pride. So, if I let you touch it, plait it, cut it, then there must be something worthwhile in you.”

She blushed, and I smiled at her.

“But a swimsuit?”

“Look, the weather is getting cooler, and even here there is a limit to how long we can use the pool. I figured that it would be a great place to start.”

“But, I’m so…big.”

“And I’m not, yes. We’ve established this. You and I both know you need to eat less, so we’re not even going to discuss it. What we are going to discuss is this regimen I want you working on. The water will give resistance to your movements. The weights will help to keep you on the bottom of the pool.”

“The bottom…”

“It’s only two and a half feet at this end. Not even enough to drown little ole me.” My little lie, and the burning in my throat was enough to make me lose focus for a moment, but I pushed it away.

“Get in, Caroline, and I’ll join you.”

I lead her through a number of easy movements, or they would be easy if she was in the air. In the water, I could see her struggling a bit, and so we eased up. She began to enjoy it some after that, and when I turned on the music I think she just went with the rhythm of it all.

It was our own little water aerobics class, something that I’d actually taken part in as part of my rehab when I was ten. I didn’t mention that? Well, I mentioned the coma, and being beaten half to death. My legs were broken to the point where the doctors actually considered putting pins in them to hold them together. Considered, but never actually did. Even so, after all the time I spent in a cast immobilizing my legs and hips I had to learn how to walk again. I mentally painted a picture of Jeremy’s face on the wall at the end of the bars, and it motivated me to walk again.

The water aerobics was to help me build back up some muscle mass after the atrophy they’d gone through being stuck in that never to be more damned cast. I kept it long enough to beat Jeremy with.

I remembered the rehab, though, and I used that memory to help Caroline now. I made sure to keep her drinking water.

“But I’m not even sweating…”

“You are, you just don’t realize it because you are already soaking wet. The water is cool, but it’s not leaching enough heat from your working muscles, so your body is doing its best to shed heat. The problem is that the water is insulating your body as well. So you body sheds more moisture, to no effect. Drink water.”

When she finished the third bottle without any need to…well…use the facilities, I think she believed me.

The alarm I set went off signaling my need to get ready for school.

“That’s it for today.”

“Already?”

“It’s been two hours, Caroline.”

“What? No way has it been that long. I’ve never…I mean how could I have lost track…”

“Because we were doing something that fit more with your personality than you’ve tried before? The water also made you feel less like you normally do on land. It supported a lot of your weight.”

“You mean it made me feel like less of a beached whale?” There was a brittle quality to her voice.

“I would never have said that, Caroline. You know that people make judgments about your size, I mean you make judgments about your size. I really mean it, though, by exercising in the water, we took away a good portion of your weight, while utilizing your bulk at the same time.

“There are swimmers who wear sweats when they are practicing to get what you do just by being you. You have more resistance in the water, making your muscles work at it more to get the same effect.”

“Fine, Princess Anne, let’s get your hair dry and in form so you can get to school.”

My smile faded as I remember I am back on restriction. “I have to stay here today.”

“Then we’d better make the hairstyle extra special.”

I smiled at that, and helped her out of the pool. I went to shower in my en suite after showing her the guest room with its own attached bath. I rinsed the chlorine out of my hair and then used conditioner to replace some of the oils that had been stripped. I’d wash it after school, I just didn’t have the time now.

I got ready in the outfit that I’d laid out, and then Caroline was there and working on my hair.

There was a liveliness to her that I’d never seen before. Her hands moved quickly and with purpose, and before I knew it, the style was done. She wove fifteen or twenty small braids into my hair and plaited them together loosely to capture the unbraided hair in a net. The smaller braids had a silvery ribbon plaited into them, which made it seem as though I had silver threads holding my hair up, and it was up. It wasn’t piled on top of my head, and neither was it tight. It sort of reminded me of some period dramas that I’d pretended to hate, but watched anyway with my mom a few years ago, but somehow it was new and in fashion at the same time.

“Caroline, you are a goddess among women.”

“You like it?”

“I just hope it doesn’t make even more boys want to ask me to the stupid dance.”

She laughed at that and bid me adieu. Well, with the period hair, I had to have a period farewell.

I logged in and checked out who would be with me online. My absence from school was noted. I had fifty requests for private chats after first period. How that many people knew about it I’ll never know. How come I was so popular all of the sudden?

I allowed the requests from Kelly and Jasmine, and they flooded me with questions.

“What happened over the weekend?” Jasmine asked.

“Are you alright?” Kelly gushed.

“Yes, I’m fine. I beat up a court bailiff who was trying to kill his wife so for the time being I’m back under house arrest.”

“Oh, is that all…” Jasmine said rolling her eyes at me.

“Yes, that’s all,” I said sticking my tongue out at her.

“Start at the beginning, girlfriend, and bring us up to speed.”

I rolled my eyes at Kelly’s continued use of the term and then told them about the class on Saturday, Andrew and Sandra, Shawn, the assault, Shawn…and well.

“You kissed him, I’m almost jealous enough right now that I don’t want to be your friend.”

“But that would mean missing out on all the inside gossip, Kelly,” Jasmine replied. I just smiled at the two of them. They really were my friends.

“Anyway, I’m going into my next class, and I’ll try to discreetly pass the information along so you’re not mobbed during the next break.” Kelly said in reply.

We said our goodbyes and moved on to our next classes.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
The rest of the day was lackluster, with no real exceptions. I still got a number of requests from boys to chat privately, but they weren’t what I was expecting.

“Will you go to the dance with me?”

I know that Andrew told me that the ratio was two to one, but that should mean that I only got asked a maximum of five or six times.

“I’ve already asked someone else.” I say for the twelfth time this break. At this rate I will have said no to the entire male student body by the end of the day.

“Who?”

“Someone who doesn’t go to this school. He’s my boyfriend.”

“Who is he?”

“Shawn Harris.”

The boy laughed at me until I started getting visibly upset. “Um, never mind, if you say you’re going with Shawn, then I get that.”

The prediction that I would say no to the male student body fell short, as they stopped requesting chats shortly after that.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
“Done,” I said to myself with a smile. One thing about being under house arrest again, at least it made focusing on my schoolwork easier.

‘And here I thought it was because Shawn wasn’t here to bother you.’

“Don’t start that again, miss prissy pants.”

“Who are you calling a prissy pants?”

“Shawn?” I said with a little squeal.

“I do not have prissy pants.”

I threw my arms around him before I even remembered that I’d hurt him the night before.

“Hey, AJ,” he said, lifting me up with a smile and his arms.

“Hey yourself, Shawn,” I said after we kissed.

“I wanted to wish you luck with tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I say with a little smile.

“Love the hair.”

“Caroline is to blame. She wanted to give me something special because I was stuck at home today.”

“Who’s Caroline?”

“My hair stylist. I’m sure I mentioned her…”

“No, Princess, you didn’t.”

“I’m not…”

“A princess? You live in a castle. You have at least one servant, someone who just does your hair. You are beautiful. Did I mention you live in a castle?”

“This isn’t a castle.”

“No, just the modern day equivalent of one.”

“Anne-Jeanette, I’d like you to try something on before tomorrow…hi, Shawn.”

“Hi, Mandy. And your mom makes you one of a kind dresses.”

Mom was holding something that was too short to be called a dress, but too long to be a shirt. It had an asymmetrical hem, and would cover everything up top, while giving no mistake that I had a feminine body.

It slipped on easily, without being too tight. It fit, just like I knew it would. It also seemed designed to go with the knee-length skirt I was wearing. Normally I’d think that the asymmetrical hem of the top would clash with the symmetrical hem of the skirt, but somehow it brought the two of them together. I walked back out from the bathroom to show Shawn, and my mom, the effect.

“Wow, that’s…amazing.”

Shawn’s jaw was a bit slack, and I just grinned at him. “So, Mr. Harris, would you go to the school dance with me?” I asked sweetly.

He nodded, and then shook his head, “huh, what?”

“There’s a school dance in a couple of weeks, and I know you owe me nothing after last night, but I wanted you to go with me, that is if you don’t have any plans. It’s ok if you…”

“Yes, I’d like to go with you to the dance.”

Again a girly sound escaped my chest and I just grinned at him. At least until my mom cleared her throat.

“One slight problem, we don’t know whether or not you can even go at this point, Anne-Jeanette.”

I sort of just said something like, “he said yes,” in this goofy way and my mom rolled her eyes at me. For the first time, no one cared that I liked boys, and I was happy that it was that way. I could ask a boy out if I wanted, or kiss a boy, or whatever I liked, and the most I got was rolled eyes.

“Look, you two, no funny business. Anne-Jeanette, I need the top back so I can finish it before tomorrow.”

I went back into the bathroom to swap out the top I was wearing, and handed it back to my mom, and then Shawn came into my room and joined me on the bed.

I shied away from him at first, who wouldn’t, but he simply sat there next to me and waited for me to initiate contact. I thought for a moment of helping him along, but thought that would be in the ‘no funny business’ proscription that mom left behind so I just went in for some kissing.

He gently lay me down on the bed, and for the first time, I didn’t feel trapped. I felt loved. I wanted for him to be able to have his way with me, and knew that he would move at my pace should we go in that direction. I felt little Shawn rubbing against my leg, and thought I might begin to have a reaction of my own, but it never came.

I could feel my heart racing, and my chest felt…wonderful, but there was no reaction from my own penis, and that was enough to get me to completely stop. Had it ever reacted, or had that just been my wishful thinking.

“Anne-Jeanette?”

I just smiled up at him, and smoothed out his brow with my hands. “Don’t worry about it,” I said softly. I traced his lips with a forefinger, and he playfully bit at it. I giggled.

“Do you like me?”

“I like you a lot, AJ.”

I wondered if that was enough. I knew that he was interested in sex, and that sex with me interested him as well, but was it more than that? Would he last for longer than just the sex? My face must have clouded over because he rolled off of me and sat up next to me in the bed.

“Look, I know you think you love me, and you may be right, but I can’t just say the words to make you happy. I’m not going to lie like that. When I know if it’s true, I’ll tell you. Till then, can you just accept that I like you more than any other girl that I’ve met?”

“How much do you like me?”

“You’re infuriatingly cute sometimes, you know that?”

“I’m cute all the time.”

“Nope, you’re just gorgeous all the time. It’s the in-between times that you’re cute.”

I just blushed and pulled him in for another kiss when there was a coughing noise from the doorway.

I looked up to see my dad there with a stern look on his face.

“Not up to anything indecent with my daughter are you, Shawn.”

“Dad!” I shrieked and threw a pillow at him. He just smiled at me. “Your mother says that dinner will be ready in a couple of minutes and could the two of you keep it down? We can hear you in the kitchen.”

Shawn just laughed as I went completely red with embarrassment. Dad joined in on the laughter.

The next morning after a quick shower there was a surprise waiting for me on the bed: it was a bra and panty set in the same vine patterned material as the top.

I slipped them on, and tucked myself away for what I hoped would be the last time, and then put on the rest of my clothing. The labels on the bra told me it was my mother’s line, her personal line, and I was happy to be wearing so much of her clothing on this of all days.

There was a nip in the pre-dawn air as we all climbed into my dad’s sedan. The top covered me, but I was clad for the jacket I’d decided to grab. We drove over to the hospital where they began prepping me for my surgery.

For once in my life I was actually glad for the lack of hair growth in that area, as they had to clip what little there was. It was quickly accomplished, and I was happy that it had been a female nurse who had done it and not a male one.

I already considered myself to be female, and this last little thing marring my physical presentation would be gone. I would be as female as anyone else, physically, in just a couple of hours, and that made me smile.

“We’ll get you in to the operating room here in the next hour or so. In about half an hour we’ll get you down to the prep room,” Dr. Licht, my surgeon, told me after the nurse was done and they covered me up again.

“Thanks, I say with a grin.”

“Seems someone is more than ready for this,” Dr. Sparks said from the doorway.

“Oh, yes, I am. I’ve had some good friends and a good counselor to help me realize that I was never much of a boy to begin with.”

“That’s good to hear. Well, I’ll be back to check on you after the surgery. I leave you in Dr. Licht’s competent hands.”

It was a lot of waiting at that point. I waited for about half an hour and chatted with my family. After that they wheeled me, in my bed, into a hallway outside a room that said Prep on it. I sat there looking around at the people while a nurse started an IV. Then, I was there by myself, smelling the saline, or that is what I assume it was, as it began flowing into my veins. It is the weirdest thing, and something I noticed when I was in the hospital the first time, but when they start flooding my system with contents of an IV bag, I can actually smell it.

So, I sat there with the clean smell in my nostrils, trying not to freak out as I was left there alone with my demons, and then I was wheeled in to the prep room.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
The ceiling was the next thing that I really noticed. It’s different than the one in the prep room. Where in the prep room it was acoustic tile like you get everywhere, this was covered in lateral slats and lights. I looked around a bit to see a view that looked like it was pulled straight out of a sci-fi movie. It was a white room with a bunch of white beds lined up throughout it. I could barely hold up my head to even look around. Some nurses in scrubs, the only non-white things in here it seemed, moved around the room a little bit, one came over to me and said something about moving me to a private room…
.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
The white room was gone, and I was in one with some light wood paneling. The room was quiet, without even the monitor beeps I would expect from a hospital room. Too many bad dramas while I was in Juvie I guess.

There was no one else in the room. The window blinds were open though and I could look out on the most glorious day in my life. Before the events of these last few weeks, I never imagined that I might be something other than the tough as nails gay street-fighter.

Now? I was loved by a handsome boy, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it to me. I was a girl, and had friends who were girls. I was a girl. The slight pain in my crotch, more a throbbing ache than anything else right now, let me know that. I didn’t need to look down there to really know that the surgery had been a success. I could feel it in my soul.

Sure, there could always still be complications, but whatever else happened from here on out I would be female.

Valkyrie.

The thought came unbidden into my head, and I blinked back tears for a moment. The people who had named me that did so because it seemed to fit better for them than Amazon. There are just not enough strong female characters in mythology.

They could have named me Athena or Artemis or Diana or anything like that, but they called me the slut of the Norse pantheon.

I don’t know why, but in that moment, I let my self-loathing out. At this moment that I should have been happy, I aired my hatred for everything I’d done, and called myself slut and bitch and so many worse things. I contemplated doing worse than killing myself in that moment. I considered cutting off my hair. The one thing I knew was pure and made me feel the most feminine, and always had, I was going to cut now that no one could deny my femininity.

It would serve me right. I hurt people around me, none more than Shawn.

I had to tell him to leave me, to move on before it was too late. Before I seriously hurt him just like his sister.

I looked around the room for something to cut, to gouge, to damage, but there was nothing, and I began to cry. It wasn’t fair. Life hated me so much that it wanted to make me happy.

I began to laugh at how inane that thought was, and it became a bit hysterical. A nurse came in and I screamed something at her, with the general intent being that she get out. I remember the words to this day, and they still embarrass me. I was spiraling out of control and raving and crying, and saying I should die. I was trying to rip out the IV, and get up, but my arms and legs wouldn’t respond to me, and then they were shooting something into the IV and the smell changed.

.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
I opened my eyes, realizing that the light had changed again. I looked down at the foot of my bed and realized I wasn’t the only one here.

“So, how are you feeling, AJ?”

“Mr. Reiss?”

“Well, what did you expect? Apparently you had a reaction to something or other, they’re not ruling out the anesthesia, and started raving like a lunatic. Their words not mine. It’s not professional in my opinion to apply labels to a patient.”

I just smiled at him. He was a really nice guy, all things considered.

“So, again, how are you feeling?”

“Better. Not as…I don’t really feel like I’m a broken mirror any more. All jagged edges and half images.”

“Interesting description. So, you’re saying you felt disconnected from yourself, cut off from a complete self image. Do you know what caused this to happen?”

I blushed a bright red, and looked away from him, ashamed for what I’d done.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me, AJ.”

“What if I don’t want any help?”

“Then thank you for your time, and I’ll be going,” he got up and began to gather his things.

“Wait! I didn’t mean it. It’s just…I hurt Shawn. I gave him a bloody nose and I could have really attacked him.”

“What happened?” he said with real concern in his eyes.

I began to cry and just let everything out that had happened on Sunday, including my abortive suicide attempt, my almost successful one. If Shawn hadn’t been there…

I shuddered at the thought even as I told him the details, and my feelings about it all. He looked concerned.

“I know you mentioned some times before where you have considered suicide, but have you tried anything else, like self mutilation? Cutting for example?”

My thoughts flashed to times I had considered just what he was asking, and thought about my earlier thoughts of marring my beauty by cutting off all my hair. I told him everything. I was in wracking sobs as I got to what people called me on the street and how it made me feel.

I just couldn’t hold it back, and before I knew it I’d told him everything I’d thought or dreamt or imagined was happening to me. I told him the details of my first nights in juvie, and about the kid I had beaten half to death because of it.

I told him about Jeremy, and how much I had loved him. I told him what it did to me when I told Jeremy how much I cared. I told him about Shawn, and how much I was afraid of our relationship. How much I wanted to prove I was physically female and that I wanted to have sex with him more to prove it to the world than for any concern over his needs.

I told him of everything that had darkened my mood and destroyed my joy as my life went on, and how being a girl was the only thing I’d ever done that alleviated that, even for a little while. I told him that I didn’t expect to be alive on my seventeenth birthday.

My deepest darkest secret was that I was seriously considering hanging myself with my own hair the night before I turned seventeen.

I just knew he would take it away from me then, and I was crying uncontrollably after I told him, but I had to let him know everything, even if it meant losing this one beautiful thing about me. He let me cry, and silently I thanked him.

“You know it’d never really work.”

“What?”

“While the image is certainly evocative, I doubt even your hair is long enough to wrap securely around your throat and then be tied off on something. Then, there is the problem that I know you condition your hair often, so it’s not the same as a rope. It will tend not to knot well. Then there’s the consideration that hanging long enough from your hair so that you would actually die is pretty hard with how often your parents check up on you. Sure, other people might be able to get away with it, but I doubt you would.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Maybe just a little, but you have to admit that when you think about it, it is likely the most impractical method of suicide you’ve tried.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but then shut it and blushed. “I can’t even kill myself properly.”

“That’s a good thing in my book, AJ.”

“Why do I feel this way?”

“Because you have been deeply hurt, emotionally, and the walls you hid behind have been broken down through your transition. You thought being the most badass boy you could would get people to leave you alone, the problem is you had to prove you are the most badass.”

“Can you say that?”

“Badass? I did. As you began realizing you were a girl, the core of your defenses was taken away, that you were a boy.”

“But, I didn’t hurt Shawn because I thought I was a boy.”

“No, you hurt Shawn because he was threatening your safety on an emotional level. You asked to be let go, and he refused. He was assaulting you, and like any other time someone assaulted you, you reacted violently.”

“He didn’t…”

“He did. You need to accept this, and I actually need to have a long chat with Shawn.”

“But…”

“No buts. I need to explain certain things to him, with your permission, so he understands where he is. You are very fragile right now, and if he wants to be a part of your life, he needs to understand how fragile you are.”

“You sound like my parents.”

“Who love you a lot, AJ. Trust them. Listen to them. Make sure they understand what you are going through too.”

“You mean I have to tell them…”

“you don’t have to, but I think you should.”

“But, they’ll think so much less of me. If I’d been faster, or stronger, or…a boy this would never have happened to me.”

“Those rapists saw you as a boy and it never stopped them. If you’d been recognized as a girl, I can’t even guarantee that a girl’s facility would have treated you any better. Although, if that first boy had known you were a girl…regardless, we can run revisionist histories till the end of time, and nothing will come of ‘what if’ or ‘might have been.’

“Realize you are who you are because of your experiences, but your experiences are not you. You are the person who is here, now, in this place, who has just had corrective surgery to make her outside match her beautiful inside.”

I was still sniffling a bit, but I smiled at him. It wasn’t even forced.

“Is it safe for us to come in?”

“Shawn!”

“And Mom and Dad,” my dad responded.

“Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I need to take Shawn and talk to him a moment. I’ll let you two spend some time with your new daughter.”

I began smiling at the statement. New daughter. I was their daughter, in name, before, but now I was their daughter in truth. We talked for a few minutes before a shaken looking Shawn came back in the room.

“Shawn?” there was a sinking feeling in my stomach. No, he couldn’t be leaving. This wasn’t possible.

“I’m so sorry, AJ.”

“Nooo,” a moan erupted from my soul by way of my mouth.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to leave me.”

“What?”

“Don’t leave me. I’ll be better. I’ll stop hurting people. I promise.”

“No, I’m not leaving you, AJ. I just didn’t realize how much I was hurting you.”

“You complete me.”

“Princess Anne-Jeanette, you never needed anyone to complete you. How bout we promise to at least try to not hurt each other in the future?”

I just nodded mutely at him. He wasn’t leaving me, and he was talking to me about the future.

“Shawn, just kiss my daughter and get it over with.”

We laughed a bit and he kissed me. It wasn’t deep, or long, but it was a kiss, and it was Shawn kissing me. And it was my first time being kissed after my surgery. Life was almost perfect.

The pain came and went over the course of the afternoon. Mostly it went when I got another dose of pain meds. I don’t know what type they were, but they helped. It also helped that the pain I was feeling wasn’t worse than many of the injuries that I’d had over the past couple of years. Sure, it hurt, but I could deal…until I couldn’t.

Then they gave me more pain meds and the pain levels dropped down to a manageable level.

I spent time talking to my parents, and Shawn. There was a lot of smiling, and a lot of laughing that I tried to refrain from. I didn’t kiss Shawn as much as I wanted to, but we held hands a lot.

Mr. Davies came in around seven in the evening.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Davies?”

“Louis, Mandy,” he said nodding to my parents.

“Brent,” my dad responded, “what can we do for you?”

“I’ve spent the day in and out of court trying to get your hearing postponed, AJ. Best I could do was move it to tomorrow.”

“But…I’m not supposed to leave the hospital for a few days.”

“It can’t be helped. I tried to get it in front of Judge Anderson, but they feel he’s too close to the case as it is.”

“They?”

“Judge Anderson pulled strings to keep Julian Thoreau in jail.”

“So Rita is safe?”

“She’s safe. She’s also in a women’s shelter.”

I sighed in relief. So much had happened since Saturday in my life, and I felt bad that I hadn’t thought more about Rita. Why wasn’t I a better person? I let my selfish concerns take precedence over what was going on in Rita’s life.

“So, they are requiring you to be in court tomorrow morning, and they aren’t accepting that you are in the hospital as an excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse!” Shawn exclaimed.

“Shawn, this is my fight. Mr. Davies, what time tomorrow?”

“Ten am.”

“I’ll be there in a wheelchair, but I’ll be there.”

“AJ…”

“Mr. Davies, you did what you could, now it’s my turn. As long as my doctors don’t have a problem with it, then we might as well be there.”

.-.. .. -. .   -... .-. . .- -.-
Mom and Caroline arrived early the next morning to get me ready. Mom had a new dress for me. Caroline had a new hairstyle. She tied up my hair in the silver ribbons again, but this time it was individual locks wrapped in the ribbon. The ribbon was in sort of a loose cross pattern.

The dress was white with silver accents. It covers me completely, but again, like the shirt, it screams girl to everyone who chooses to look. It is longer than most of the skirts I’ve been wearing recently, but I think it will be a lot more comfortable to sit in, since it will still go halfway down my calves when I’m seated. The hem is shorter in front than the back, and I really like how it looks. Mom’s found a pair of ballet flats with the same accents as the dress. Overall, I love how it looks and have to admit that at least for today I do look like a princess.

I’m afraid of…blood or something else showing through, but the doctors have taken care of that. They wrapped up the area, loosely, and there would be a nurse with me the whole time.

They took me down to an ambulance and drove me over to the courthouse. We arrived close to ten, and they wheeled me into the courtroom. I sat there as primly as I could with all of the gauze wrapped around my nether regions.

“All rise for the honorable Judge Haskins,” said the bailiff, a stern looking woman.

The judge came in and looked at me not standing, “AJ Smith? I’m going to have to ask you to rise.”

“Your honor, I can’t.”

“This has gone on long enough. I’m not buying that you were in the hospital, I’m not buying you’re a girl, and I’m not buying the pitiful attempt that your lawyer has been putting forth to get this case thrown out.”

“Your honor!” Mr. Davies began.

“Judge Haskins,” I said, interrupting my lawyer, “what do I need to do to prove to you I am female?”

“You could strip,” he said with a knowing smile.

I looked up at the nurse, “can you help me?”

She looked a little shocked, but I was banking on calling the Judge’s bluff.

“Judge Haskins!” Mr. Davies began again.

“The boy won’t go through with it, he can’t. It would destroy the illusion.”

I nodded at the nurse and she helped me out of the dress. We removed my bra as well. Leaving me in the wrappings below and nothing else.

“Is this enough or do you need more, your honor? I’ll remind you I am a minor.”

He wasn’t looking at me anymore, and he was bright red with embarrassment. “Clear the room!”

He got up and left, dragging the bailiff with him. There hadn’t been any other people really, but my parents and the lawyers. Mr. Davies was almost out of the courtroom as soon as the judge called for it to be cleared. The prosecutor was right behind him.

The nurse helped me to get dressed again, and I was again sitting primly in the wheelchair.

“Dad, could you tell Mr. Davies he can come back in?”

My dad was as embarrassed as the other guys, and I thought I’d let him get out of there for a moment or two. My mom came over and held my hand, and I took the moment to silently cry a little bit. I acted strong in the moment, but that wasn’t who I was. I don’t like being naked in front of people. Talking about underwear embarrasses me.

There I was, though, catering to the whims of a self-important ass, just to prove to him I was as female as I claimed.

Mr. Davies came back in and gestured to the nurse behind me, “the Judge would like to see us in his chambers.”

We wheeled around to where the Judge’s office was, and went in. The prosecutor was there already.

“What was that stunt you pulled?” the Judge practically screamed at me.

“Your honor, if this continues, I’m going to sue you,” my lawyer began.

“What?”

“I’m not a prosecutor, so I can only bring a civil case, but you are sexually harassing my client, requiring that she disrobe in an open court, and then trying to punish her when she complies with your illegal requirement. At the very least, you should recuse yourself from this case.”

“How dare you,” Judge Haskins began.

“He’s right, Phil. You were out of line. If I actually thought that you knew before hand that she had breasts…”

The Judge looked uncomfortable, and refused to meet my eyes.

“You knew!” the prosecutor was angry, and not keeping it to himself.

“Harold told me that she had them, but I…”

“Don’t say another word. Brent, you and your client can leave.”

We got back to the hospital, and I just lay down on the bed in my new dress. I didn’t want to get out of it, and so I took a nap there in the dress.

Someone fidgeting in the seat next to the bed woke me.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.”

“Hey, but she was woken with a kiss,” I say blushing.

He leaned forward and we kissed, me smiling the whole time. He began laughing, and I couldn’t help it, I began giggling as well.

“So, about sleeping beauty…”

“I talked to Mr. Reiss, remember? I wanted to, I really wanted to, but I was afraid of hurting you more if I did.”

“Oh,” I said. The smile left my face, but his finger on my chin lifted my head until I was looking into his eyes.

“It was more fun kissing you when you were awake anyway.”

“Then let’s do it again,” I said.

.-.. .. -. .   -... .-. . .- -.-
I’d missed two days of school, but one thing about a remote access school like I went to, I was able to be in school and be in a hospital room at the same time.

Caroline was in there on Thursday morning, and I was completely ready for the cameras by the time my classes started. I got a lot of people concerned about my health, and I just told them that I had a birth defect resolved.

It was true, in certain regards, so I was fine with the minor lie. I spent time talking to Kelly and Jasmine between classes, and the time spent helped me to forgive them for never showing up in my hospital room.

I enjoyed classes the next couple of days, however the announcement at the end of class on Friday threw me a bit.

“Students, there is just one more week until our first dance of the year. We’ve made sure that the ballroom is wheelchair accessible as it seems that one of our students will not be able to attend otherwise. She can still walk, just that she had some major surgery to prevent anything life threatening.

“Our prayers go out to Anne-Jeanette and we hope that she’ll be able to be back with us here at school soon.”

I was blushing a lot at this pronouncement, and I was glad that I could shut off the link soon after that.

They discharged me from the hospital shortly after classes on Friday, and I was back home and in my room that evening.

.-.. .. -. .   -... .-. . .- -.-
Saturday morning, I was in some comfortable clothing and in my wheelchair at West Coast MMA.

“What are you doing here?”

Andrew looked startled to see me, “I thought I’d come to class. At worst I could be a punching bag for the ladies, you know, someone with the same mass as one of their attackers is going to be. At best…I thought I might learn something.”

“Why would you want to learn self defense,” Hannah said butting in, “you look big enough to take care of yourself.”

“Hannah, by that definition you wouldn’t be allowed in here either.”

“But I’m a woman.”

“So?”

She sputtered a little at that, and I just smiled at her, “men can be raped too.”

She snorted, “can’t rape the willing.”

“And you have to be willing to be sodomized?”

Her smile fled her face and she paled a bit, “and just because a guy’s dick responds, doesn’t mean he is looking for sex,” one of the other girls said.

“Guys always want sex,” she responded a little huffily.

“And a girl in a tight dress with a short hemline is just asking for it.”

I looked pointedly at Hannah, and gestured toward the door. “From the moment that I met you, you struck me as more the abuser than the abused. I’ve been raped before, Hannah. I know what it feels like to be that helpless, and the ones who did it thought that I was a boy.”

There were some slack jaws around the room, and Andrew was just staring at me.

“I had and occluded vagina, and a growth that looked like a penis. That was corrected so that my first period doesn’t kill me, but when I was first in Juvie everyone assumed I was a boy.”

Hannah’s feet went out from under her, and she collapsed to the ground.

“I didn’t…”

“Think about your actions and how they would impact another person, I know. You need to work on that. Try and be a little more sensitive to those around you. Now, class, I’d like for you to show me what you remember from last week.”

.-.. .. -. .   -... .-. . .- -.-
“AJ, is what you said earlier true?”

“Hey, Andrew. Yes, it’s true. If you could refrain from spreading it around school I’d appreciate it.”

“Why…”

“Because I’m afraid at how bigoted people can be,” I said a little testily.

“No, why would I tell anyone. Unless you’re lying to me about your period.”

“What? no,” and I blushed.

“Then that makes you a girl in my book. No guy I know can bleed for a week and survive.”

“Andrew!” I blushed and smiled all at the same time.

“Well, I’ll see you at school on Monday.”

“Bye, Andrew.” I was still worried about what would happen with this knowledge he now had, but the future was something I was unable to see.

.-.. .. -. .   -... .-. . .- -.-
I was in my room, relaxing on my bed and doing my best not to be in pain. To tell the truth, most of the pain had faded since Tuesday. I was catching up on my homework from the week, since I’d missed two days.

I was feeling so feminine there on my bed. I was wearing a grey pencil skirt with a gauzy over-layer with a flower print. On top I was wearing a white tank under a translucent blouse. It had a similar flower pattern as well, almost making the ensemble look like a single piece.

I was lying on my stomach with my feet in the air.

“So, this is what you do while we’re out having fun.”

“Jasmine! Kelly!”

They laughed at me, and I just giggled.

“What are you doing here?”

“They’re here to try on dresses for the dance.”

“What?” I’d heard nothing about this, and it was something that I’d have loved to have heard earlier.

“I decided that the three of you should wear ‘Anne-Jeanette’ dresses. I’m trying to get these girls to agree to have suits made for their dates, but they’re wary.”

“You three go on then and have fun,” I said with a smile. I was frankly a little jealous, knowing they were trying on new dresses, and I wouldn’t be.

“You’re not getting off that easily, Anne-Jeanette. I have a new dress for you as well.”

I beamed a smile at her. “Go ahead, and I’ll meet you there.”

I gave Shawn a quick call.

“Shawn, you know that dance you agreed to go to with me next Friday?”

“Yes..?” he said a little warily.

“Well, my mom wants to design some suits for it, specifically for my date and for Jasmine’s and Kelly’s dates. So, I was wondering if you’d like to come…”

“Be a fashion model?”

“Yes,” I said in a small voice.

“Ok, since it means more time with you.”

I squealed and bounced a little, which sent a twinge from my new womanhood, which caused a low moan from me.

I slipped into my wheelchair, and maneuvered myself down the hall to my mom’s studio. The other girls were giggling and twirling in their dresses. These weren’t normal formal dresses, but they were pretty everyday dresses.

“What’s this?”

“We’re just looking at some of the new styles your mom’s creating.”

“Those look good on you.” I said smiling, and they did. “Shawn is coming over, mom, to be fitted for a suit.”

“Really? That’s great, Anne-Jeanette.”

“You know that your dates are going to look under-dressed compared to the rest of us,” I said to Jasmine and Kelly.

Jasmine rolled her eyes at me, and Kelly just grimaced, “Look, Anne-Jeanette, neither of us have found our princes yet. You can ask your guy, and he’ll agree, but can we really ask ours…”

“Which guys are you going with?”

They mentioned them, so I just rolled back to my room.

“What are you doing?” Kelly asked. Jasmine just came along with me.

I logged into the school’s system and sent a chat request to the two boys. Sam accepted first, and then Jason added himself a short time later.

“Hey, guys, Jasmine and Kelly wanted to know if you wanted to get your suits for the dance from the same place that they’re getting their dresses. No, it wouldn’t be anything at all girly. Some nice masculine suits that would match the style of your girl’s dresses. They’ll care, you just need to come over for a fitting.”

“Huh?” Sam said.

“Um, you’re sure it would be nothing girly?” Jason responded.

“Nothing girly and you can tell everyone you got to see my house. My mom is a designer.”

That got Sam’s attention. I gave the two of them my address and signed off. Kelly and Jasmine were staring at me wide eyed.

“What?” I just asked with a smile. I love being a girl.

I was in my underwear sitting there in my wheelchair when the doorbell rang. We’d been having such a good time, trying on dresses and outfits that I completely forgot about the boys I’d invited over. I rolled myself down the hall and hopped out of the chair to get something on.

I was slowly working my way back to full strength, and it gave me enough endurance to get something on and get back into the seat. A pair of white shorts and a tank top were enough to cover my nudity, and wouldn’t cause any real problems with trying most of the styles.

“You have enough to share with the rest of the class,” Jasmine said with a smile. They were in the latest of my mother’s creations, but I could see how it would help having a couple of guys in the same room with us.

“I have another couple of tank tops, which I’m sure would fit, but I think I might be a little smaller down below.”

Kelly snorted at me, “have you seen yourself recently?”

“Yeah, if anything we’ll likely need to wear a belt to keep them on.”

I blushed a deep red as they giggled at me. I smiled at the two of them and finally joined in.

I grabbed a pair of teal shorts and a pair in yellow and tossed them to the other girls. Then I rolled out and allowed them to shut the door behind me. They’d been changing in front of me, so that wasn’t the problem. I just needed to play the hostess.

I rolled to a stop at the top of the stairs. “Hey guys,” I said with a smile. Sam and Jason smiled up the stairs at me. “Welcome to my home. Come on up.”

“I thought you only had eyes for Shawn,” my dad said from behind them.

“Dad!”

I ushered them into my mom’s studio, and they greeted the other girls. I watch the interactions between them with not a little jealousy. At least I was jealous until Shawn finally arrived. If I’d been capable I’d probably have given myself to him, mom-be-damned.

The problem was, like I’d mentioned to Mr. Riess on Friday… Of course I neglected to mention Friday with Mr. Reiss.

.-.. .. -. .   -... .-. . .- -.-
“So, AJ, tell me about Shawn.”

This was one of the most direct statements that I’d ever heard him make, and it led me into a very direct conversation. “I think I’m in love with him.”

“Not in lust?”

“Sure, I like the way his body looks, I’ll give you that, but it’s more the way he makes me feel.”

“Like a woman.”

“Exactly. I feel so feminine with him. It doesn’t matter what we talk about. I just feel so girly around him.”

“And you want to have sex with him to prove it.”

“Well…” I began, but couldn’t continue. I couldn’t lie to him. Well, I could lie, but it would set a bad precedent. So, I chose not to lie, or even think about lying. The other problem was I really didn’t know why I wanted so badly to have sex with Shawn. “Can’t it just be because I want to have sex?”

“Sure, I’ll accept that answer, as long as it’s your answer and not what you want me to hear.”

“How can I tell what I really want?”

“You are a young woman whose body is being flooded with hormones. Most teen girls are like that. They usually increase your sex drive, since they stimulate those areas of your brain and body. Physical contact can enhance the experience.”

“You mean like…”

“I mean kissing and handholding. It puts you into a false sense of intimacy.”

“But I thought handholding and kissing were intimacy,” I say with a blush.

“They are, and they aren’t. Girls can hold hands without any sexual connotation, and guys will, occasionally, hug without meaning anything by it. It is when you group it with intent that another meaning comes through.”

“Oh.”

“So, you intend to be ‘with’ someone and you kiss them and you start thinking that means they want to be with you, so you want to be with them more. It is a feedback loop.”

“How do I stop it?”

“You shouldn’t want to. It’s part of the reason that even with all the pain associated with it for the woman that the human species still propagates. We love to be loved.”

“Um…”

“Your first time is most likely going to be a little painful. Now you don’t have a hymen, so there’s that at least, but the muscles there will need to stretch a bit to accommodate him.”

I shifted uncomfortably on the seat. It’s not that I was sore still, even if I was a little, but more that I didn’t want to talk to any man about the mechanics of sex. That was really the first time I realized I was a girl inside. Yes, I was a girl physically, but this brought it home that I really was one mentally as well, emotionally speaking at least.

I would have felt a lot more comfortable talking about this with someone whose body was similar to mine.

“So, you want to have sex with Shawn because you feel you are an imposter, and that, to you, is the one true proof of your femininity.”

I just blushed and nodded at him.

“Well, then just have sex with him.”

“What? I can’t do that. I’m still healing, and my parents would never allow it, and I’m too young, and…”

“If it was up to your parents, they’d likely never want you to have sex. You’re their little girl.”

“I’m still too young.”

“He’s how old?”

“Eighteen.”

“Then, depending on a number of factors, yes he is, and no he isn’t too old for you.”

“What?”

“There are a number of factors there, but that’s only if someone finds out what’s going on. As long as your parents don’t report him, if they know, and you don’t, and you don’t get pregnant…” How could he even be suggesting this? It sounded as though he was telling me to have Shawn break the law.

“Ew, this conversation is just too much for me.”

“Don’t like the idea of getting pregnant?”

“Just not right now.”

“Then that answers the question of sex.”

“But, there are c…”

“Nothing is 100% guaranteed to prevent pregnancy except for abstinence. Any time you have sex, you are leaving yourself open to STDs, pregnancy, and everything else related to it.”

I looked down at my feet, blushing furiously, wanting to believe that he was wrong, but knowing he probably wasn’t.

“But I really want to.”

“Then you have to decide where you stand on the issue. It’s not my place to offer advice on this. Talk to your parents. They’re the ones responsible for you.”

.-.. .. -. .   -... .-. . .- -.-
Those words stuck with me and as I looked up into Shawn’s eyes, for a moment, I didn’t really care. Then he smiled and the moment was broken. My heart started beating again, and I could breathe normally.

He wheeled me into my Mom's studio and the real fun began. The three of us, the girls that is, we watched as our guys modeled some of the male clothing designs my Mom had been working on…well and changed clothing as well.

Our guys weren't the male model types, or even weightlifters or jocks, but they were right there with us, and I could tell by the flushed faces of my friends that they enjoyed the show in the same way that I did. At the end of the night all three were happy with their suits, even if they weren't in the normal colors that people associated with men's suits. They complemented the colors of our dresses, and the cut, while being completely masculine, meshed well with the style of our dresses. Mom even got some pictures of us before having us all change out of the clothing.

The other four all went home leaving me alone with Shawn and my parents. We were having a nice dinner when I started feeling a little sick to my stomach. I ignored it. I just pushed aside my plate and continued to enjoy my time with my parents and Shawn.

"Are you alright?" Shawn asked me at one point.

"Fine. Nothing that you can't cure."

He smiled and leaned in for a kiss. I met him halfway when I felt something…off down below. It felt a bit like I had wet sand in my underwear. There was red showing through the white shorts I was still wearing.

"Mom…!" I said just before a massive cramp doubled me over in my chair.

"AJ…" Shawn began before my Dad ushered him out of the room.

I was really scared. What if something had torn? And then mom was there just holding onto me, laughing a little bit.

"It's not funny." I said, trying not to get angry.

"It is very funny. Let's get you cleaned up and get you a pad and a clean change of clothing."

"A…pad? Oh." Suddenly I realized what had happened. And then, even with the cramping and the icky feeling in my panties, I smiled and a warm glow washed over me. I'd likely come to hate this in the future, especially with how I had basically no warning at all, but for right now I felt validated.

Mom helped me upstairs to my bathroom, as I didn't want to get blood on my wheelchair. That would simply be too gross. The idea of sitting in blood and tissue…ew…especially with it squidging around my backside right now.

I got in the shower and let the water run over me, cleansing me, removing the stain that I still felt like a ghost on my nethers.

I scrubbed myself clean, or as clean as I could with my condition still continuing. I got changed into a loose skirt and a nice clean pair of underwear, with a pad this time, and went down to enjoy the rest of my evening with Shawn. He took everything in stride, and spent a good part of the evening just holding me while we all talked.

.-.. .. -. .   -... .-. . .- -.-
I spent Sunday morning in the solarium again doing my morning ablutions, just watching the sunrise as it changed the world outside my window.

I didn't feel like doing much movement, but I knew that Caroline would be here soon for more exercise. She seems to be really blossoming through her regimen. Even if she hadn't lost any visible weight yet, that I could tell, she was happier about herself, and liking the paces I put her through in the pool. All too soon we'd have to move inside, or find a public pool to keep it all up, but in the meantime I wasn't going to pose an obstacle to her self-improvement.

Today, like the rest of the week, I sat out on one of the deck chairs getting some sun in a bikini while watching to make sure Caroline didn't hurt herself.

We had time for an extended session today, and since the sun liked me less than I liked her, after the first couple of hours I got out a terrycloth robe and put it on. I continued to watch Caroline, ensuring her safety.

"Let's go inside," I called out when the sun was high in the sky. She got out and wrapped one of the oversized beach towels around her chest.

She helped me to get my hair done after that, and then she went home. The rest of the day was spent doing my homework.

.-.. .. -. .   -... .-. . .- -.-
The next day was nothing out of the ordinary for me at this point: helping Caroline exercise, getready for school, attend school through the online portal, and then log off. I began to do my homework at that point, lying on my stomach on my bed.

I'd gone with some loose shorts and a fitted tee-shirt for my outfit today as I wasn't feeling my feminine best, even though I was still in the throes of the second most defining female function.

The first, of course, is pregnancy.

I smiled at my own silliness. Mr. Davies knocked on my open door.

"You have a moment, AJ?"

"Everything's fine, I hope."

"Yes, more than fine. I wanted to stop by and see how you were doing, and to tell you the good news in person."

"What good news?"

"They've dropped the case against you. I finally got this in front of a judge who was willing to recognize that the 'old boy's club' as he put it has had enough fun at your expense. He's issued a formal apology for your bad experience and is offering ten thousand dollars for emotional damages."

"Um…okay."

"I turned it down, saying it made a bad precedent to offer money where none was desired."

I giggled at that. Sure, I wouldn't mind the money, but I also didn't really feel that I deserved it.

"Phillip Haskins has been disbarred and is going to a disciplinary hearing later this week to see if criminal charges will be brought against him."

"Can we ask that nothing be done further to him? He's lost his job and reputation. Isn't that enough?"

"It's not up to us…"

"But can I speak on his behalf?"

"It is an open hearing, so you should be able to. Are you sure you want to?"

I lay there and thought about it for a couple of minutes. He'd made me strip in public. It was embarrassing, sure, but a part of me felt vindicated in doing it. Being a girl wasn't some costume I put on, and with my surgery correcting natures little mistake I felt confident in my ability to look like the young woman I am.

On the other hand, he hadn't listened to any opposing viewpoints. Wasn't a judge supposed to be unbiased?

"I don't want to see him go to jail over this. He was just as embarrassed as I was to have me naked there in his court."

"I'll find out when it is, then. I have something I'd like to speak about with your father."

Something about the look on his face frightened me. "Tell me what's going on."

"I didn't want to worry you…but Julian Thoreau is out on bail."

"I'm not worried," I say to him, but a little shiver passes through me.

"I'm going to ask your father to hire a bodyguard for you until he is convicted."

"I don't need a bodyguard."

"Would you allow any of your students to walk around unprotected except for their own skills?"

"No, but I'm not any of my students."

"Your students would never rely on their own abilities. And you'd never let them do so."

I grumbled a bit, but then recognized what he was saying was true. I nodded my acquiescence and he left to speak to my Dad.

.-.. .. -. .   -... .-. . .- -.-
On Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday I went to school in my wheelchair with a 'nurse' pushing me from class to class. Her name was Karla and she was my bodyguard in everything but name.

Thursday afternoon we went to the hearing. Karla was there with me, pushing my chair like normal. We sat quietly in the back waiting for the proceedings to start. When Mr. Haskins came in he took one look at me and just glared. I smiled at him. Knowing the type of person he seemed to be, I'm sure that he assumed the worst about me being there. My smile confirmed his suspicions. A fit of giggles threatened to overtake me, which I'm sure wouldn't be properly appreciated at this proceeding.

Three men and a woman filed in and took seats at the front of the room. They explained why everyone was there, and what they hoped to accomplish with all of this.

The woman closed their opening remarks, "based upon the nature of the charge, we have chosen to forgo formal witness statements on this and will simply be offering our decision."

"If I might be permitted to say something," I said raising my hand. I was unsure of the proper procedure here.

"And you are?" one of the men asked.

"Anne-Jeanette Smith, your honors."

They whispered among themselves for a moment and then the woman spoke into her microphone again. "I'm sure that you'll be pleased with our decision in this matter."

"If you haven't asked me, then how do you know?"

"She has a point there, Marjorie. Step forward, Miss, and tell us what you have to say."

Karla rolled me up next to the podium and tilted the mic down so I could speak into it.

"I've only ever met Mr. Haskins once. That was on the unfortunate day on which I was being accused of attempted murder, criminal trespass, and anything else a desperate bailiff could get thrown at me. As this bailiff was a member of the court where I was being charged, I can only assume that Mr. Haskins was a friend with the bailiff Mr. Thoreau.

"While that doesn't excuse his behavior, it does help you explain it a little."

"How do you mean?" stated the man who'd asked me to come forward.

"My actions in, and out, of court previous to my recent transformation are somewhat infamous. You may have heard of me as Aaron Joel Smith, AJ Smith, or possibly even Valkyrie." I blushed as I said the last one.

"You're the Valkyrie?" the woman on the end said in shock. "But you're in a wheelchair."

"Oh, this. It is to make it easier to get around while I recover from a corrective surgery. I should be able to get back to light exercise within the next few days, if my doctor Okays it."

"Continue."

"Do you need me to mention any of the crimes I've been convicted with?"

"No, we're all very familiar with your case, now that you mention your other name…in fact I thought your name sounded familiar, but your simple feminity put me off. I expected…"

"Someone more 'butch?'" I completed for him, air-quotes included.

He had the decency to blush and I giggled.

"When I stopped fighting it all seemed to come naturally to me," I replied with a slight smirk. I got general laughter at that statement.

"So, I went to court fully expecting something to happen. It was embarrassing, yes, and uncalled for. But I can understand Mr. Haskins reasoning. Does that excuse his behavior? Of course it doesn't, but he's already ruined his reputation and lost his livelihood. I know it's not really my place to dictate what you do in this hearing, but I personally feel that he's suffered enough."

"I'm sorry to say that I can't agree with you," the man who'd first asked me to speak replied. "He was in a position of authority over you. As such, his actions fall directly into the category of harassment, and given the nature of said harassment, it could be construed as sexual in nature. As you're a minor, that requires an enhancement from a Class A misdemeanor to a third class felony."

My mouth dropped open at his pronouncement.

"You are a very forgiving young lady with a good sense of empathy. I appreciate that, and hope that you keep that with you on the road ahead. However, I cannot condone this…man's actions. If you were my daughter, I would likely have throttled him on the spot." He smiled to show he was joking, but he was showing way too many teeth. He reminded me of some of the people I'd fought over the years.

"Phillip Haskins, we find enough evidence to hold you over for trial on the charge of Gross Sexual Misconduct with a Minor. Miss Smith's plea will be entered into the record and taken into consideration at such time as sentence is handed down, should you be convicted. Bailiff, take Mr. Haskins into custody."

I was a bit numb afterwards and not even a night with Shawn was able to break me from my funk. I did try to put on a happy face for him, though, and we talked a bit about his plans for the dance the next day. Jasmine, Katie, Sam and Jason all showed up during different points of the evening to pick up their clothing.

We chatted for a bit with each one, but my funk put a damper on any festivities there might have been. I went to sleep later that night, having finally put the decision they'd made behind me. I had only one thing at the forefront of my mind as I drifted off; tomorrow evening was the school dance.

I was aching to get up out of my chair. The day was spent being pushed around the school. Then being pushed around my home, and now, I was still in my chair trying my best to get ready.

And that is the reason I was sitting in my chair. Not because I was getting ready. No, the reason I was sitting in my chair was the same reason I felt focusing to be so impossible. The dance. I was so excited that I could hardly sit still, but I forced myself to sit still because I wanted to be able to dance.

I figured with the time that I'd been able to get up and move around by this point that I would be able to dance for an hour or two before I'd be stuck in the seat for the rest of the evening. My first dance ever, and I would be dancing with the one person in this entire world who made it worth it to me.

I heard a knock at the door and turned around to see. My mom was there smiling at me.

"Can I help you get ready?"

I smiled up at her. I thought of just muddling through, but the look on her face made me change my mind. "Sure, mom. I would appreciate the help."

There was someone behind her in the hallway. "I'm here to get your hair."

"Caroline!"

"I wanted to really thank you for your help. I've lost almost twenty pounds in the past couple of weeks."

"You don't need…"

"Yes I do need to do this. Something special. I've never felt really good about myself before. I know it's only partially you, but you showed me that I could enjoy exercise. And I'm feeling so much better now about myself."

I hadn't noticed it before, but she was a lot happier than she'd been the first time I'd seen her. There wasn't anything else to it, I just smiled at her and nodded my acceptance.

My Mom helped me to finished getting my dress on, and then helped me with my makeup. After she was done, Caroline went to town on my hair. I sat there patiently amidst the tugs and pulls, and time passed. Normally, it took Caroline no more than half an hour to complete any masterpiece she had in store for me. Today, I sort of lost track at half an hour.

And she continued to work on my hair, and pin it up and put ribbon in it.

My dress had the cut away at the knees I've described before, with the full skirt behind. It was a pale blue color with a soft yellow, almost off-white, underskirt that showed itself through the cut. It was tight where it needed to be, and displayed my figure perfectly.

When she finally declared my hair done, I could see that Caroline had used ribbon in the same color of blue mixed in with a thinner ribbon of shimmering gold. Where before, with the double braid simply looking a bit like a tiara, this was a regal grown made of hair, light and air. My breath caught in my throat and I hugged her, trying my best not to cry. I didn't want to ruin my mother's makeup job.
My dad appeared at that point with a camera and shot a couple of pictures while I smiled and laughed. Then he picked me up and carried me downstairs while I just giggled at him. I could have walked down on my own but he just said, "You need to preserve your strength, Anne-Jeanette Smith. You have a man who wants to dance with you, and I want you to be able to dance for as long as you are able."

"But I thought…"

"You're never too young to dance. Just remember that one of these days you owe me my first daddy-daughter dance."

I just giggled a bit at my day, realizing that I loved Shawn because of how much he reminded me of my Dad. It wasn't something I'd ever thought about consciously, but they were both very smart men who weren't afraid to talk to me like I was a person, no matter how much less I knew.

I looked seriously into my Daddy's eyes and said, "Put me down, Dad."

He did, a little confused. I put my hands on his shoulders, and looked up at him expectantly. He put his hands chastely at my waste and we began to move to the music that only we two could hear. When he began to cry a bit, I had to do my best not to tear up as well. I smiled up at him with burning eyes and then went up on tip toes and whispered in his ear, "I love you, Daddy."

He just hugged me at that point, and I hugged him back until I heard the sound of a camera. I looked over at Mom and scowled.

She laughed at me, and I smiled back. She walked up to me and handed a box to my dad before she started playing with my earrings. When she was done I felt a much greater weight there than I'd felt before, and then Dad put something cold around my neck.

I sat in my chair, ready for the slight break, and rolled over to the mirror beside the hallway door. I had drop earrings with luminous blue stones in the exact shade of my dress. The necklace that my dad had put on me was a pale gold with large blue stones in it.

"Those are aquamarines, AJ," my Mom said. When I looked confused at her, she continued, "They're your birthstone."

I was still a bit confused.

"We'll explain it later," my dad said, "we have a lot of catching up to do still in the jewelry department."

The doorbell rang, and I answered it since I was already there.

I wasn't prepared to see Theresa there.

"Theresa? What are you…"

"When I found out that my company was providing security for you, I just had to request this assignment. Plus it allows me to make sure my brother does nothing untoward to you tonight."

"Theresa!" I exclaimed.

"I just mean he does nothing you don't specifically ask for," she said with a grin. I blushed in embarrassment.

"We'd like some pictures of the two, Theresa. Where is your brother," my dad said.

Just then Shawn walked up, and the world faded away. Where my dress made me look feminine and the colors supported that look, the same colors with the more prominent shapes of his asymmetrical lapels made him look so masculine.

His smile was for me alone, and mine was for him. I felt a slow heat rising in me, and I had to look away. While I wasn't looking he lifted me from my chair much like my Dad had earlier.

There was as little strain showing in his face as there had been in my Dad's

They took their pictures of us, with lots of laughter from Shawn and giggles from me. I found myself wishing that he would move his hand a bit closer to my behind, and blushed at the thought.

Eventually it was time to go, and Theresa helped us into the limo that she would be driving for us. It seemed that this bodyguard firm my Dad had hires specialized in stealth guarding, and I wondered how many more people there were guarding me that I wasn't aware of.

We drove to the restaurant where we met up with a matched Katie and Sam. We weren't waiting too long for Jasmine and Jason to arrive.

We had a shared squeal and giggle when we all got there and took a moment to examine our men. The style for all three boys was similar, with the colors matching our dresses. The cut and fit let everyone know that they were masculine, and I could see Jasmine and Katie flush a bit as they continued to stare. I poked them and they giggled and sighed.

Eventually we were called to our table where we all ate very carefully. Even the boys. I'd never seen three boys eat more carefully than they did that night. I decided at that moment that I'd have to get Shawn dressed up more often, because he looked so handsome and…regal as he ate.

They weren't the small nibbles of a girl. He just took more care of where his elbows were, and how the food traveled from plate to mouth. I think I barely nibbled at my food as I was engrossed in just watching my man.

I did have room for a piece of heavenly chocolate cake, which was heavenly.

Then we were on the road again, making our way to the school.

I'd expected to drive around to the gym, but we went to a large building near the front of the school. I hadn't realized that our school had a formal ballroom, but it did. We walked along a lighted path to the doors where men stood in white wigs and tailed coats.

They took the tickets from the boys, and we were ushered in.

It was magical. I saw Andrew and Sandra there with a younger boy and girl. Andrew was actually doing his best to pay attention to the girl, and Sandra was dancing with the boy. All four of them seemed to be having a good time, and I was glad that I'd turned Andrew down.

I looked at Shawn and I realized that I was more than glad. I was ecstatic.

We were early, or I should say on time, so there were only a few couples on the floor and a few more getting refreshments. We parked my chair at a table and I carefully made my way to the dance floor with Shawn as a slower song began.

Dancing with Shawn was nothing like dancing with my Dad.

I felt a heat between us as we moved with the music that seemed to grow out of my stomach. I felt a heat growing in other places at well that even thinking about made me blush.

We talked as we danced, and I got lost in his eyes. It was like a long drawn out kiss that never ended and left me more breathless than I'd ever been, all while doing nothing more than touching in the fewest possible places.

After an eternity that couldn't have lasted more than four or five minutes we got a fast song, and then another slow one. I danced with Andrew and Jason and Sam each once, and then Jasmine, Katie, Sandra and I had a girls only dance. It was a fast one of course.

Sooner than I would have liked, I began to get tired, so Shawn led me over to the wheelchair, and then pushed me out on to the floor.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm not done dancing with the most beautiful girl here."

I blushed to the roots of my hair, smiling the whole time.

We danced some more like that, with me pushing my chair, and Shawn helping me. I didn't have any practice doing this, and neither did Shawn, but we figured out something that worked for us.

Eventually Shawn tired as well and we went to sit down at the table we'd commandeered when we first arrived.

We talked and watched our friends make fools of themselves. We laughed at them, but only because we realized that we probably looked just as foolish. We were young and alive and this was our night.

The sound of gunfire sounded loud in the enclosed space.

"Now that I've got your attention," and unsteady Julian Thoreau slurred out, "I want everyone but Aaron Smith to leave the room."

"There's no-one here by that name," Shawn said.

"I see him right next to you."

"This girl next to me is AJ."

"Same thing. I've come to kill the little shit. But not before you tell me where you sent my wife. She deserves some killing too." This last bit he said almost to himself, but the silence of the room made it perfectly audible.

"Well? Leave!" he shouted. He fired another shot into the floor and then raised the gun and pointed it at me.

I felt so helpless sitting there in the chair. I needed to get up so that I could get over to him. I could disarm him. I could defuse this situation, but my arms and legs were leaden with fatigue. I'd worn myself out at the dance. How could I have been so stupid? I should have saved something just in case.

I wasn't meant to be happy, and I should have known that something was going to happen to ruin this night.

"I'm never going to tell you where Rita is. She deserves better than a drunk piece of shit like you."

His face turned red and he raised the gun to point at me. I was suddenly cold. Looking down the barrel of the gun, I could only think of the story that Shawn had told me about Mark. I might be good, and when I can actually move I think I'm very good, but good doesn't beat a bullet.

I could see his finger tightening on the trigger, and sweat pouring down his face. I was sure that I was going to die.

Then Shawn was in front of me, shielding me from Julian. I could see nothing in his eyes but his love for me. There wasn't any fear there. "I love you," he whispered. And I heard the gun go off. The smell of gunsmoke filled the room, and Shawn's body crumpled to the ground.

"Shawn!" I screamed.

Theresa came out of nowhere and tackled Julian to the ground. I was out of my chair and holding Shawn in my lap. His blood was pooling in the ground below us. I didn't know what to do. Somewhere in my mind I thought about how this was ruining my Mom's beautiful dress, but I pushed that away. The bullet was ruining Shawn's beautiful life.

"Don't you dare leave me, Shawn Harris. If you leave me I'll never forgive you. Not now. You can't leave me. I just found you. We have the rest of our lives to live together."

I felt the arms of Jasmine and Katie go around me. They were pulling me away so that some men could get to Shawn. They were cutting off his clothing and I screamed. They were hurting him.

I lashed out, trying to get free and Andrew was there shielding me from the sight.

"AJ, stop. Stop this. They're trying to save his life."

I cried into Andrew's chest, my heart breaking into a million tiny shards of glass that ripped through the happy feelings of the night.

"It's not fair. Not fair." I kept repeating to myself as the sounds of sirens filled the night.

There is nothing worse than the agony of waiting when someone you love is hurt. I'll remember that room for the rest of my life, and it will haunt me in my nightmares.

There was a slight astringent smell, like bleach or something similar, that burned in my nostrils. Underneath it was a sort of rotten smell that the astringent only barely covered.

The room was too cold. I could feel the air from the conditioner blowing across my exposed knees. I was still in my dress, and it was covered in his blood. There was no time to change. They wouldn't let me ride with him in the ambulance, but Theresa dragged my sobbing form over to the limo we'd ridden over in. Jasmine and Katie joined me before Theresa could drive away. I continued to sob in the back seat and they gathered me in a group hug.

When we got to the hospital we were shown into the waiting room: a couple of plastic seats in an alcove off to the side from the doors into the operation suites.

Theresa sat there with her arm around my shoulders. After the ride over I was cried out and simply sat there numb. I couldn't believe that he'd done this for me. I didn't want to allow it, but a slight glow formed in the pit of my stomach. It felt like a betrayal of everything he'd done for me to be happy, but I just couldn't help it.

"He loves me," I whispered.

"I know. He just didn't want to tell you."

"Why not?" I looked over at Theresa a little confused.

"Because he thinks you're too young for him."

"He's only eighteen!" I tried to keep my voice down, and I tried to keep from getting angry at him when he was fighting for his life. Screw that, I was going to get angry at him.

"More it has to do with how he's already lived life and you are still in high school."

"If he wasn't dying, I'd kill him. I'd wring his scrawny little neck."

"AJ…you're scary like that," Jasmine said. She was looking at me with wide eyes. Katie sat there holding her and doing the same.

"I think you're both seeing the Valkyrie for the first time," Theresa said.

"Sorry," I said, trying to smile.

"AJ, I know you've had a life. I know that. I even know some of the difficulties that you've been through."

Something occurred to me that I’d forgotten all about earlier, "I thought you were a therapist," I said to Theresa.

"Still trying to finish my degree. Being a bodyguard pays the bills."

I shuddered and held myself, "Why can't I focus?"

"You're just in a mild shock," Theresa said and held me again. Jasmine and Katie moved in on the other side, dragging the chairs across the floor to be next to me. We were all sitting there like that when Mr. and Mrs. Harris came in.

We sat there making small talk as I just absorbed my bleak surroundings. Would life be like this for me for the rest of my life? Would I ever get over Shawn?

I shuddered again with the thought of Shawn dying.

My thoughts rotated around and around like that. Love, hate, betrayal. I was slowly circling the drain, and I couldn't find my way out. Shawn centered me. How could I survive without him? How could I be? How could I exist?

The minutes turned into hours as we all sat there. Jasmine and Katie finally went home at three in the morning, but I had to stay. My parents took the two girls home and then came back to sit with us. I don't remember if they talked.

All I remember was the astringent smell covering the smell of decay. It is a smell I'll always associate with death.

.-.. .. -. .   -... .-. . .- -.-
Sunlight peeked in through the high small windows on the wall behind my head. It seemed to add a spot of lemon yellow to the wall opposite. I watched the nurse there as she typed something into her computer, and wondered what she did every day when the light started shining in her eyes.

I really considered the sun to be a harsh mistress that morning. She said that a new day was dawning, but without Shawn, there couldn't possibly be anything new.

We'd still had no news about how he was doing. Presumably he was still in surgery. All night ling we'd sat there, when my Dad and Mr. Harris weren't pacing that is. They'd tried going at their own paces to begin with, but eventually decided that walking side by side worked better. I would have been impressed with their ability to work things out wordlessly if I wasn't otherwise engaged at the time.

I was numb.

Finally, after everything that had happened, I was wrung out emotionally and I had nothing left to feel. At this point I didn't even feel the cold of the room.

Through the night, the doors in front of us had opened a number of times as people went in and out of them. For the first couple of hours I looked up every time they opened, but now it didn't even catch my attention until there was someone standing in front of us.

"Mr. and Mrs. Harris?"

We all looked up at the doctor standing there. He had grey hair and a kindly face. His expression was neutral, and I just knew that it was bad news. My eyes stung, but I had no more tears to shed.

"Yes?" Mr. Harris said.

"Shawn made it through surgery and is in recovery. The bullet lodged next to his heart and was abrading against the muscle. We were able to remove the bullet without causing any more problems. He lost a lot of blood. Right now we just have to wait and see if he recovers."

I didn't hear anything else that anyone said in my relief. Shawn was alive.

"Can I see him?" I said quietly. I didn't know if anyone heard me, but the Doctor looked over with kindly eyes and a slight smile.

"After we move him to his own room, we'll let in some visitors. Let him rest until he wakes up, but you can see him."

Time seemed to start again, and before too long we were in a private room watching while he slept. I stayed with him all that day and the next, not once did he wake up in that time.

Mom excused me from school on Monday and I stayed there with Shawn. Around noon he slowly opened his eyes and looked around. I smiled when he finally saw me there.

"Hi." I said with a small smile.

"Hi. I didn't say anything stupid before I got shot did I?"

"Nope. You just said you loved me."

"Oh," he said with a frown.

"You don't get to take it back, Shawn. You know I love you, and you admitted you love me. Sure, things might change later. We're not talking about later. Just let it be for now, ok? Let's just be happy."

Shawn smiled at me weakly and I gave him a light kiss on the lips.

"I love you, Shawn."

"I love you too."

.-.. .. -. .   -... .-. . .- -.-
Life slowly returned to normal after that, or as normal as it exists for me. I visited Rita a couple of times at the shelter before she decided to move out with a couple of the other women into an apartment. I tried to continue visiting her there, but beyond class and her ex-husband's actions, we really had nothing in common.

She still comes to class, and started bringing some of the other women from the shelter. By the time that the original teacher returned we had enough women for two classes two days a week, a total of four classes each week.
Mom's planning on releasing her clothing line soon. Some people think that I design the clothes, so I have to explain that they're my Mom's design. I always love doing that. I never wear anything she hasn't designed anymore. I tried a couple of times, but wearing clothing that was made just for you by an expert in the field spoils you for 'off the rack' clothing.

Anyway, it's great advertising for Mom's brand, and there are actually people at school who wear it now too, including Katie and Jasmine.

They still don't have boyfriends, though. They do date a lot more now that everyone knows that I have a boyfriend. Apparently being friends with the most (in)famous girl in school is worth something.

As for Julian, he had two more charges of attempted murder added to his already bloated rap-sheet. Everyone assumes that he's going to be convicted and sent away for a long time.

Shawn and I are both doing physical therapy together, and no, I don't mean we're getting physical. I take each day as it comes with him, and am more sure as time goes by that I will marry the man, even if I have to propose to him myself.

With everything I have been through recently, I'm finally at a point where everything seems to be calm and collected. It won't always stay that way, but those are worries for another day.

And the Valkyrie? I've finally come to the realization that while I understand the origin of the term, and who they were in Norse mythology, most people just see them as warrior women. That is likely the intent that was behind the nickname, so I can accept it, for now. It still gets me some notoriety, which I can live with. If I'm not going to be loved, then being feared will keep me safe.

Life isn't perfect. If I'd really thought about it at the beginning, I would never have believed that I could be in this place at this time. I expected to be dead. If not now, then when I completed all of my plans for suicide. When I think about it, I shudder at everything I would have missed out on. I think of Shawn, Jasmine, Katie, Theresa, Caroline, Rita, and everyone else I met during this little adventure.

None of them would be a part of my life if I hadn't accepted the judge's punishment. Like I had many times in the past, I wonder if even the judge knew what would happen when he proposed it.

I'm glad he did. Every once in a while, I wonder what happened to Aaron Joel. In all of this it seems that I lost a piece of myself when I chose to be AJ, Anne-Jeanette. When I think that, though, I think about what I gained, and what stayed the same.

When I really think about it, about whatever happened to Aaron Joel Smith, I realize that nothing happened to her, because she is me, and we're not going anywhere.