This is a continuation of the Bailey saga. If you're interested, the story begins with The Summer of Bailey, and is continued in Seasons of Bailey. This story is a fresh start of sorts, but will draw upon elements from previous stories. Comments are welcome.

Part 1

They were staring. They were all staring. I'd made the choice to come back. Now they all acted as if they'd seen a ghost. Amongst the loud, obnoxious talking, I could hear whispers. Voices from the masses bounced off the cinder block walls and concrete floor. I couldn't manage to focus on one, before another started. When I looked around, they seemed to look away. But I know they were staring, and talking.

And why wouldn't they? I imagined that I was a sight to see. Over a year ago I had disappeared without a word. The most anyone knew of it, was that the police were at my house, and then I vanished. Maybe they thought I had run away. Maybe they thought I died. In the distance I thought I heard my name whispered. I looked, but nobody showed any indication they had said it.

"Next!"

The student behind me bumped me in the back. My focus returned to the task at hand. A portly middle-aged woman beckoned me to come to her. Thick-framed glasses stuck to the end of her nose as if glued in place. Her wrinkled face looked tired, perhaps agitated. I stepped forward, paper in hand. My other hand reached up and brushed a lock of hair behind my ear.

"Name?" she asked.

"Walk…" I stopped myself instantly. I'd grown so used to my stepfather's last name. It would probably take me the next four years to get used to the change. "Taylor," I said. "Bailey Taylor."

My mother had changed our last name yet again. Tom Walker was no longer worthy of us, and my mother was quick to file for divorce. Rather than returning to her maiden name, she had gone back to using my father's last name. He'd died when I was five, so I vaguely remembered him. Though I did like the new, old name.

"I don't have you here," the lady said after nearly a minute of shuffling files. "Are you a transfer?"

"Actually, I am," I said. "My mother and I went through the paperwork last…"

The woman stood abruptly and hobbled away; hardly acknowledging that I had said anything. I looked down the row of students being helped. I had not seen one familiar face yet. Which was actually surprising, as most of my old friends were in the same part of the alphabet with me; as far as last names went. Maybe they had come and gone already, or perhaps hadn't arrived. After all, we did have several hours to pick up our class schedules.

"What seems to be the problem?"

I turned to find a slightly younger Latino gentleman walking back with the woman who had been helping me. At least he was younger than the woman. He had the same tired expression on his face. I imagined the start of the school year had to be stressful for everyone. Junior high had not been so complicated. But this… this was high school. Things could get extremely complicated for me now. And it seemed like they already had.

"She's a transfer," the woman said rather loudly.

"Maybe she's in…"

The man's voice trailed off as he thumbed through another box. Now the kids really were starting to stare. I'd caused a ruckus already, and classes hadn't even started. I lowered my head and watched them dig through box after box of files. Finally the woman gave up. She gestured for me to move to the side as she helped another student. After taking his name, she assured me that Mister Torres would help me. At least now I knew somebody's name.

Several minutes passed before Mister Torres finally pulled a folder out. "She does exist!" he said, jokingly. "I'll help you down at the end, Bailey," he said, gesturing toward the end of the tables.

I walked down along the row of tables, scrambling around other students, past X,Y, and Z, and finally caught up with Mister Torres. "If I'd known transfer students weren't in the alphabet, I would've come down here first," I said, smiling. "Shorter line."

Mister Torres laughed at my remark, though it seemed to be out of pity for my lame joke. "Well I guess being singled out does have it's perks sometimes," he said. "So where did you transfer from?"

"You don't have that on file?" I asked, still smiling.

"This is just class information," he said. "And locker assignment. The boring stuff."

"Oh… I see," I said, suddenly losing a touch of my confidence. "I transferred from Nebraska. Spent a year at my aunt's."

"Nice. Did you like it there?"

"It was okay," I admitted. "Quiet too." I reminisced for a moment about my aunt's farm house. "But I missed home," I finally added.

"Well let me be among the first to welcome you back," he said.

"Thanks." My smile returned ever so slightly.

Mister Torres slid a piece of paper toward me over the table. "Class schedule," he said. Then he pointed to an area on the piece of paper. "Locker, and underneath it is the combination."

"Okay," I said, my eyes dancing over the schedule. "Um…"

"Is there a problem?"

"Well…" I stared at the schedule. "It just says 'drama' seventh period. I asked for technical drama."

"Oh…" Mister Torres' face turned genuinely apologetic. "That class probably filled up pretty fast. It's only offered one period per semester. Being a transfer student, you probably missed the window and got dumped into the drama class instead." He reached up to scratch his neck. "We can get you into a study hall if you don't want that class."

I sighed, and looked back down at the schedule. "Study hall is boring," I said. "And I promised I'd try new experiences." I looked up to see that my personal musings had left Mister Torres in a complete state of not caring at all. "I think I'd prefer the drama," I added quickly.

"Well we have an excellent drama teacher," he said. "I'm sure you'll like her."

I shrugged. "I'll give it a shot."

"I like your spirit," Mr. Torres said. "Do you have any questions?"

"Where exactly is the Science and Mathematics Building?"

Mister Torres flashed me a disappointed look. "You missed orientation too?"

"I got this."

The highly recognizable new voice made my heart flutter. I turned to face someone I had absolutely been dying to see since returning home. Nathan Riley beamed his smile straight into my soul. His chocolate brown eyes watched me thoughtfully. He had cut his black hair short again. Most likely to keep it cooler for football.

And speaking of football, it looked like he had been in the weight room a lot. Nathan had grown quite a bit, and in all of the right ways. The black tank top he wore fit tight around his muscular torso and chest, while framing his lean arms perfectly. His calves bulged out from under his long basketball shorts. He had always been taller than me, but now it seemed he towered over me.

"Well," Mister Torres said. "I guess it's your lucky day. One of Henley High's best students. Thanks for helping out Mister Riley."

"No problem," Nathan said, not once dropping his gaze from mine.

"Good luck in your new school, Bailey," Mister Torres said.

I managed to turn my head back to him just enough to thank him. After a moment he walked away, and my focus returned to Nathan. There was so much I wanted to say to him, and I could tell he had a lot on his mind as well. His smile faded a little, but only enough to where it looked casual and pleasant. After a quick glance around, I decided it best that we got a little more privacy.

"What's your first class?" Nathan asked, beginning to lead me away, as if he read my thoughts.

"Earth Science," I said, starting to walk off beside him.

"Ah… Earth Science," Nathan said. "That takes me back." He turned to look at me. "I had it first period too."

I smiled at the coincidence. "Really?"

Nathan nodded. "I can even remember the entire day when I picked up my first class schedule," he said. "I remember going over to play catch with some guy named Justin, in his backyard. That's when his cute little sister popped out of the house, carrying two bottles of water."

"Stop it," I said, elbowing Nathan in the side. "I wasn't even cute back then. Probably looked like a little monster."

"Well…" Nathan looked down at me. "I'll admit, you're a lot cuter now."

"Please…"

"I'm serious," Nathan said, as we passed a few students trying out their new lockers. "And you really let your hair grow out. I like it."

I reached up, gently taking a strand of my hair in hand. It had grown well past my shoulders at this point. "Really?" I asked. "I was actually thinking of getting it cut before school started."

"Well don't chop it all off," Nathan said. "It looks nice."

"I'll think about it," I said, rolling my eyes away from him. "I still can't believe they threw me in drama, instead of technical drama." A change of subject was sorely needed, in my opinion.

"What's the difference?"

"Technical drama is all the offstage stuff," I said. "Set design, lighting… You know, the stuff that doesn't put you in the spotlight, but teaches you where to point it." I looked down at my schedule again. "This is going to be acting, maybe doing monologues. I don't know if I'm ready to be… out there… like that."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Nathan said. "You seem more confident. You're probably ready for the spotlight."

I sighed. "If you only knew what it took to get here today…"

"Yo, Riley!" I watched another jock type, about the size of Nathan, walk up and give him a bro hug. "We still on for tomorrow?"

"No doubt," Nathan said.

"Cool, cool, bro," the other guy said. "I'll catch you then."

"Later," Nathan said.

I watched the other guy strut away, then turned to Nathan. My eyebrows shot upward, and a smile spread across my lips. "What's tomorrow?" I asked.

"End of the summer cookout," Nathan said. "You're welcome to come."

I chuckled slightly. "I'm not sure I'd fit in… bro."

"Oh come on," Nathan said. "Like that's the worst thing you've ever heard?"

"Nah," I said. "It's cool." I started to walk down the hallway again, but turned my head back to Nathan. "Bro…" I couldn't hold out on finishing with a little chuckle at Nathan's expense.

"Bah," Nathan said, hurrying to catch up. "Give it a rest. Joe's a nice guy."

"I'm sure he is," I said, smiling. "I was just teasing you."

We stepped out of what apparently was the creative arts building. The sweltering August air hit considerably hard, having been in the frigid air conditioning for what seemed like forever. The heat actually felt good on my bare skin. I'd gone out with distressed jean shorts, and a blue tank top. The front of which sported a faded American flag. It made me feel a sense of pride and confidence, and the blue matched my low top Converses, so that was a bonus.

Maybe my attire was what made people stare. Then again, most of the staring could've been completely in my head. The few that I had actually caught staring, were mostly boys. Only they seemed to be staring more at my legs than anything else. I hadn't changed that much, but maybe kids simply didn't recognize me. Nathan had, but then again, I'd slept in his bed on more than one occasion. Platonically, of course, but it wasn't a stretch that he could pick me out of a crowd.

"Unless you're into that scene?"

I looked up at Nathan. He had been telling me something, and I completely zoned out. "I'm sorry," I said. "My mind was wandering."

Nathan shook his head, but his look screamed amusement, more than disappointment. "I was saying this is where the skaters hang out," he said. "Between these two buildings. I'm sure they'd be riding these rails if they had their boards between classes."

"Oh," I said, chuckling. "Not really my thing."

"What is your thing?" Nathan asked, as he opened the door to our target building. "I'm curious."

"I guess I don't really have one," I said, stepping in ahead of him. Some other students poured out of the building through another door. "Is a 'thing' necessary to go to school here?"

"Uh…" Nathan shrugged. "Not really. Are you worried you won't fit in?"

"I don't know," I said. "I really don't fit into any molds to begin with." I looked up at him. "Or at least I don't try to. I like to mix it up. It hasn't really bothered me lately."

"Fair enough."

We walked in silence next to each other for awhile. All around us other kids were opening and closing lockers. There wasn't a lot of chatter, as a lot of the students were also looking for classrooms. Yet, every so often we would wander by a group of kids caught up in a conversation. I still didn't recognize any of them. I was beginning to wonder if all of the other freshmen were here on another day, or if my friends all moved away.

It felt strange walking next to Nathan. He had clearly passed the six foot mark in height. While I still needed heels to get past five and a half. Of course there was a small chance I'd get a little taller before graduation, but I didn't hold my breath. The doctors had been quite candid when they told me I wouldn't be a basketball star. Not that it really bothered me last year, as most of the kids were closer in size. However, looking around me now, I felt like a little kid compared to some of the students here.

"And… here we are," Nathan blurted out.

I looked through the open door to the classroom. At least the classrooms themselves didn't look much different. There were the same kind of black science lab tables; two butted up against a sink in the middle. Each table looked to support two chairs. It seemed the same as my last science classroom. Only last year there were four rooms divided by folding screen walls.

"Boring science room," I muttered.

"What did you expect?" Nathan asked, with a chuckle.

"I'm not sure," I said. "Something… amazing?"

"I think I'm seeing something pretty amazing," Nathan said.

I could feel his eyes on me, but I dare not look. "Whatever you say…"

"What's up next?" he asked, taking the hint to move past his awkward statement.

"Art?"

"That was back in the building we just came from," Nathan said, feigning a sigh. "Hard to miss the art room. It's one of the four rooms that isn't choir, band, or the library."

"Got it," I said. "English?"

Nathan gave me a more pronounced, and slightly agitated sigh. "Can I see it?"

"Sure," I said, turning to hand him my schedule.

He studied it for a moment. "Okay," he finally said. "Algebra is downstairs in this building, but to the left. The cafeteria is the middle building. Your music class is in the band room. And your drama class is meeting in the other side of the cafeteria with the stage." He handed the schedule back to me. "I'll take you to your other two classes on the way to your locker."

"Do you have to be somewhere?" I asked, worried about his sudden hastiness. "Because I can wander around myself."

"Not at all," Nathan said. "I was just summing things up." He gave me a reassuring smile. "We can still wander around if you want."

"I should probably let my mother know," I said, starting to pull away from him. "She's waiting for me."

"I can give you a ride home if you want," Nathan said, quickly.

I paused, turning back to him. "You can drive?" I asked, before shaking my head. "Of course you can drive. You're sixteen now." I backed away from him again. "I'll ask her."

"I'll catch up with you outside," Nathan called after me.

I quickly made my way back to the bus lane, where parents had parked. My mother and I already had a spat about her going with me. It took a night of sleepless angst, and two hours this morning, to get up the nerve to face the world alone today. When my mother said she'd like to go around campus with me, I let her have all of what I'd stored up inside of me. I felt pretty bad about it, but I didn't want her to hold my hand for this.

I'll never know if I hurt her feelings. She seemed to take it all in stride. Perhaps she had lived through it already with Justin. My older brother could be an obnoxious jerk when he wanted to be. After letting loose my teenage rage, my mother simply asked if I wanted to go shoe shopping afterwards. Now I felt even guiltier, because I was about to postpone that as well.

"Are you done already?" my mother asked as I approached her car.

I paused about two steps from the open window. "Actually…"

My mother put her latest romance novel down on her lap. "What is it?"

"I ran into Nathan," I said. "He's going to show me around campus."

"I see…"

For a moment I stood there in silence. Her tone didn't exactly scream that she was thrilled with what I had said, but neither did it say she was mad. "He asked if he could drive me home," I continued, prepared to duck for cover.

"How long has he been driving?" she asked, her tone unwavering.

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe four months."

My mother let out an audible sigh. "Well I didn't think I'd be dealing with this so soon."

"With what?" I asked, sticking my head closer to the window.

"Bailey," she said. Her tone changed now, and I still didn't like it. "I'm going to allow it, but on several conditions." She turned, and lowered her sunglasses. I suddenly got the "mom" look from her. The one that said she meant business. "You will wear your seatbelt. You will not distract him while he's driving. If he drives like a maniac, you tell him to pull over immediately and call me. And do not act stupidly."

"You act like we're going to be drag racing," I said.

My mother raised her eyebrows. "If you can't take this serious…"

"I know," I said. "I mean, I am."

"I'm very leery of new drivers," she said. "I wouldn't even let you ride alone with Justin for several months."

"I know," I said. "But Nathan's mature. I'll be fine."

"Be extremely careful," my mother said. "And I mean it… Do not distract him."

"I won't," I said. "I promise."

She picked her novel back up. "Are we still going shoe shopping?"

"Sure," I said, smiling. "I won't be out long."

"Have fun," she said, turning back to her book. "I love you."

"Thank you. I love you too."

"What in the world did she mean about distracting Nathan?" I thought, as I strolled back toward the campus. Did she think I was going to dance on the hood of his car? I smiled as I visualized the absurdity of my thoughts. My smile faded quickly when I saw Nathan. He seemed to have found some entertainment.

A fairly attractive caramel-skinned beauty seemed to be fawning all over Nathan. Her glistening legs kept bending toward him. It seemed like she found every opportunity to place her slender fingers on his arms. I was surprised, by this point, she hadn't blatantly rubbed her perky breasts in his face. She was close enough to do it. Fits of laughter spilled from her mouth, like she found everything that Nathan said amusing. It almost reminded me of Vanessa.

"Who was that?" I asked, arriving shortly after the girl had left his company.

Nathan not so discretely stared at the girl's butt as she walked away. "Danica Sanders…" A slight sigh came with the name. "She likes going by Dani."

I joined Nathan's gaze for a moment. "She's pretty," I offered.

"I guess so," Nathan said, shrugging.

"You guess so?" I slapped him on the arm. "Look at that body. She's like super fit."

"She plays softball," Nathan said, as if in another world. "But she's a senior…" He turned to me and shrugged.

"So? That never stopped Justin and Kate."

"That was different," Nathan said, starting to walk away. I quickly followed. "They were good together. Had more in common than sports."

"Come on," I said, stepping in front of Nathan. "The only thing they had in common were siblings the same age. Besides…" I looked over at Danica. "That girl is totally into you."

He looked back at Danica. She had found a group of girls to talk to. "You think?"

"She was in super flirt mode. Hanging on your every word," I said. "Looking for any excuse to touch you." I grabbed his arm. "Like… 'O M G Nathan, you're super buff and stuff.'" I flipped my hair with the back of my other hand for emphasis. "She did everything, but fall to her knees before you." I gestured toward her with my head. "You see her talking the same way to them?"

"I dunno," Nathan said, shrugging off my hand. "Let's just go."

As he turned to walk away, I glanced back and saw Danica looking back at us. "Men," I muttered, shaking my head.

It seemed as if Nathan purposely rebuffed my touching him, or something. I felt like his little sister after that; wandering after him around the campus. It was as if I were completely new to the city, let alone the school; like a tourist with a guide. Nathan seemed to know everything about each building. He knew where each group of kids hung out. Little tidbits of gossip poured out on occasion. Most of it would've been more interesting if I knew the kids he was talking about.

We seemed to wander almost everywhere, despite his lack of enthusiasm earlier. The campus became much bigger than I imagined it to be in my head. There were six buildings in total, and some trailers they had even brought in for overflow. The city had already built a third high school, but it apparently wasn't enough for the growing population. This school, however, was unique in the sense of it being more than one building; a converted community college campus. It all seemed a little overwhelming.

Unsurprisingly, we ended the campus tour with Nathan's favorite place of all. "And this…" he said. "This is the football field."

I halfway expected him to say "ta-da" as he gestured toward it. If I had been into football in the slightest, I probably would've been more impressed. Needless to say, it looked to me like grass with lines painted on it. I feigned an enthusiastic smile for Nathan's sake. However, my mind was miles away from "Go team!" Not even the black and silver Henley High Wolf in the center could rouse my school spirit.

"It's nice," I said.

Nathan's smile dropped. "That's it?"

"I mean, it's a nice field," I said, shrugging.

"You'd be more impressed if you played on some of the other dumps we've been to," Nathan said, sitting down on the bleachers. "I swear Central's field was built over a junkyard. Surprised nobody has been stabbed with a used needle."

"Aw…" I sat down beside him. "Don't look so sad."

"Nah, I get it," Nathan said. "You're not into football." He turned to me, pulling out his excited face once more. "Will you at least come to the black and red game next Friday?"

"The… what?"

"Black and red," Nathan said. "It's like a showcase for the players before the season starts. We play against each other."

"Oh…" My eyes wandered over the field. "I guess I could come."

"I'm surprised you never went to one of Justin's."

"Honestly," I said. "I never listened to a word that came out of his mouth, if it started with football."

Nathan laughed. It wasn't even one of those pity laughs either, but a full-fledged hearty laugh. "I've missed you, Bailey."

I turned to him and smiled. "I've missed you too."

My eyes wandered, and I stared out over the field in silence. The sun continued to beat down on us. It felt good, as long as we didn't get up and run around. I enjoyed the warmth. A few students wandered into the stands; some with their parents. They seemed more impressed than me. After a moment of looking over the field, they retreated back inside. Otherwise, Nathan and I seemed rather isolated out there.

It reminded me of living away for the past year. Granted my Aunt Kimberly was amazing, and her husband was the nicest guy I ever met. Even my cousin Kelly was a staunch ally in my goal to move forward. I learned a lot from all of them. I felt loved and accepted. Yet, I just couldn't shake that feeling of isolation. Nebraska wasn't home to me. Home was here.

"Things were so different back in Nebraska," I muttered. "More corn in the fields."

"So did you have a boyfriend back in Nebraska?"

"What?!" I bolted upright. "No!"

"Girlfriend?"

I shook my head.

"Well what kept you away so long?" Nathan asked.

"I…" My hands clamped down on the edge of the bench. "I wanted to come back sooner. Actually made up my mind around January. Christmas was kind of depressing. Seeing my mom and brother. It made me miss home." I rocked forward slightly, kicking at the bottom of the bleachers in front of me. "They thought it would be easier to finish the school year there."

"Still…" Nathan leaned forward to meet my posture. "August isn't exactly the end of the school year?"

"There were a few… legal issues."

"You mean with Tom?"

"Huh?" My head spun to look at Nathan. "No. I mean, there was that earlier, but…" I turned away. "My aunt and mom had a spat about custody. But my aunt finally dropped it, when I put my foot down."

"Oh…" Nathan sighed. "I know what that's like."

I turned back to him. "Did your…"

"Yeah," Nathan said. "Stepdad finally made his absence legal."

"I'm sorry," I said. "Nobody told me."

"Meh… It was kind of mutual," he said. "And a long time coming." He leaned back to stretch out. "On the plus side, I got a sweet ride out of it."

"That's terrible," I said. "He bought you off?"

Nathan shrugged. "It is what it is." He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. "Speaking of getting bought off, I heard your stepfather struck a plea bargain."

"Yeah…" I turned my head back to the field. Somehow the field goal post seemed far more interesting now. "Nobody wanted to drag it through court."

"You don't sound too happy about it," Nathan said.

"Because Tom got away with almost everything he did to me," I said. "Apparently the federal charges he was facing were more important."

"That sucks," Nathan said.

"At least he got jail time," I said, shrugging. "Small victory…" I shook my head. "He claimed he didn't know what was going on," I said. "That he only accepted a business offer in exchange for payment on my bills." I leaned back to join Nathan. "Like he didn't know what those sick bastards were doing." My head turned to face Nathan.

He sat in stone cold silence. "I… didn't know," he finally said.

I sat up straight and turned to face him. My leg slid over the hot bench to where my shin rested against his outer thigh. "You mean Justin didn't tell you?"

"I hardly spoke to Justin after the season ended," Nathan said. "He kind of got mixed up with the wrong crowd. Started drinking…" He shrugged. "Guess that's the cost of winning a championship. You start thinking you're invincible."

"Mom never told me that," I said. "She really never told me anything bad was happening. I guess she didn't want me to worry." I looked down at my bare leg. I really needed some sun. "Still… I can't believe he didn't tell you," I finally said.

"He told me very little," Nathan said. "It's not like we had a falling out. We just… basically we went our separate ways."

"It seems we all went our separate ways," I said.

Nathan turned his head to look at me. "Some of us further than others. So what did happen to you?"

I took a long deep breath, and casually let it out. A few more students shuffled into the bleachers. "Now's not the time or place, but I'll tell you all about it some day," I said, placing my hand on his knee. "I promise."

"Let's get out of here."

Nathan said it as if it were a knee-jerk reaction to me touching him. He even stood abruptly; flipping my hand from his knee. Deciding to play it cool, I simply nodded and stood up to join him. We walked out of the stadium and found his "sweet ride" in the parking lot. Truth be told, it was a pretty nice vehicle. Somehow he wound up with a gun metal blue Jeep Wrangler.

Wavy strands of dark blonde hair whipped around in the wind, as we drove down the highway. The Jeep had air conditioning, but Nathan had taken the top off for the summer. I didn't seem to care much, because the warm breeze felt almost as good. With sunglasses on, and the radio lightly playing, I sat back and enjoyed the ride. The city went by like we were in a time tunnel.

A lot changed in the past year. There were some of the same old buildings. Like certain fast food restaurants and retail stores, some things never went out of style. I noticed a lot more dollar stores and nail salons had sprouted. Tom had always said that when those sorts of stores started to spread, it was a sign of the decline of society. I always figured the case was that nobody had any good ideas for a business to put in those spots.

There were a few new buildings I had never seen before. A large beauty store had opened next door to our old run-down cinema. It caught my eye enough to make a mental note of it being there. Though I still laughed at the sign boasting about having eight theaters at the cinema. My mother had mentioned another one opening soon with twenty-four, and stadium seating. We flew by another strip mall, where there had once been my favorite place to rent movies, and the occasional videogame. That place no longer existed.

"Still feel like home?" Nathan asked, as if reading my mind yet again.

My eyes darted from store to store. "Feels like it," I said, "but a lot has changed."

"They're opening up a huge bowling alley and arcade further down," he said.

"That might be fun." I turned to face him. "We should go some time."

Nathan nodded. "Sure!"

"I still can't believe I didn't run into anyone else that I knew today," I said.

"Well…" Nathan glanced at me. "Today was actually the last day for juniors and seniors."

I threw my hands up. "Well that explains everything!"

"Freshman orientation was Tuesday," Nathan said, with a chuckle. "I was actually surprised to see you there today."

"Good to know I'm not losing my mind," I said.

Nathan smiled as we pulled into a turn lane. "I hope you never do," he said.

A few minutes later we were driving down the familiar streets of our neighborhood. I thought back to that night a little over a year ago. Kate had driven Justin and I home. Her little sister, Tiffany, held my hand firmly as we turned up our street. Tiffany and I had just worked through our differences that night. We reached an understanding. We had settled on remaining good friends.

Once, long ago, Tiffany and I were girlfriend and boyfriend. At least we lived up to the seventh grade, twelve-year-old version of it. We started "going out" with each other back in grade school, right at the end of fifth grade. Then things got complicated.

Tiffany got a lot of pressure from her parents to be around "normal" girls and boys; as if there was such a thing. They basically didn't want me around. It even got to the point where we had to fake our own breakup. Even that got out of hand, and we actually did break up. I sighed while thinking about it. After not speaking to her in a year, I wasn't sure what we were anymore.

"You wanna come over to my place?" Nathan asked. "We can hang out and talk."

His voice brought me back to reality. "I should probably go home," I said. "My mom was pretty upset about me blowing her off, and I promised to come home early."

"No problem," Nathan said, though he looked slightly disappointed. We pulled into my driveway a minute later. "You wanna go to the cookout tomorrow?"

I slowly reached up and touched the temple of my sunglasses. "Maybe?" My face turned to face his. "Is it going to be a bunch of guys?"

"Well I mean, some of the team," Nathan said. "Some girlfriends."

Pulling my sunglasses down, I shot him a thoughtful look. "I'll think about it," I said. "My mom might have plans."

"I get it," Nathan said, nodding. "You just got back."

"Thanks for understanding."

"Sure," he said. "If you change your mind… just give me a call before noon."

"Of course." I smiled as I opened the door to his Jeep. "Thanks for today."

Nathan nodded. "Any time," he said.

I looked into the dark lenses of his sunglasses. Behind them I could almost picture his warm chocolate eyes. An unsettling force surged throughout my body; like a pulse of music causing a subwoofer to bounce. Normally such a feeling would cause me to hesitate, and reevaluate the situation. Instead, I leapt in; seizing the feeling and reigning it in like I owned it. My body joined with that leap, and together we moved forward. Closer. Crashing into the depths together.

My lips met Nathan's warm cheek. He seemed more shocked than I felt at the moment. All of these new feelings, and I never paused to analyze them. I threw caution to the wind, and kissed Nathan Riley. Granted it wasn't the kiss of all kisses, nor was it on the lips, but to me it felt huge. For those few seconds, it left Nathan speechless, and effectively showed my gratefulness for him being there today. However, I needed to maintain control of the situation. Which led me to quickly removing myself from the Jeep.

"I'll see you later?" I asked, smiling warmly.

Nathan smiled and nodded like an idiot. "Later…" He put the Jeep in reverse as I closed the door.

I waved as he took off down the street. If he didn't live around the curve, I probably could've watched him all the way home. Looking up at my own house, I realized it needed a bit of work done to it. Tom had always done most of the repair jobs himself. Justin and I helped with what we could. We'd always managed to keep it in working order. Now the house looked in desperate need of a loving touch.

For starters, the house could seriously do with a paint job. The yard looked a little less manicured than it had in years past. Weeds grabbed at my shoes as I climbed the front steps. Justin had apparently done his best, but he moved out over the summer. Anything now had been my mother trying to maintain appearances, or hired help where she couldn't manage it on her own. Worst case scenario was that I could try to help out.

I had never been an immense help around the house, but not for lack of trying. Over the years I'd learned to cook and clean; mostly take care of the inside. When it came to repairs and lawn care, however, I wasn't exactly professional grade. Tom had tried to show me things. Despite my efforts to be a willing student, in my mind, I never passed the class. Usually it ended in Tom berating me. At the very least I could mow the yard. It just didn't look like a national park when I finished.

"Welco…"

I laughed as I read the faded doormat out loud. Shoving my hand in my pocket, I pulled out the key to the house. We never really needed a key at my aunt's house during the day. Her closest neighbor lived nearly three-quarters of a mile away. My cousin and I were constantly going in and out of the house. I sighed. Life seemed so simple there. Everything here seemed so… complicated.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

Part 2

Steel blue eyes greeted me as I stared into the bathroom mirror. They were focused, determined, but still searching for that tiny bit of confidence I needed to face the day. I had gone through about twenty different hairstyles last night, before deciding to let my wavy blonde hair simply hang on my shoulders. I let a deep breath pass over my pink-stained lips. It was a subtle pink lip gloss, not too strong, and was pretty much all I needed at fourteen.

My hair wasn't the only thing I spent hours on the night before. Thursday night had become a ritual of making sure everything would be perfect for this morning. I shaved my legs, despite the fact that hair barely grew on them still. Then I ran through my moisturizing routine. After going through ten nail polishes, one for each fingernail, I finally decided on true blue. Then I changed it ten minutes later to a sleek silver. From there I applied it to my fingers and toes, and perfected it with a clear top coat. Everything had to look perfect.

I picked out the perfect outfit for the day, down to the undergarments. Last year I never had to make such a monumental decision, as they had school uniforms in Nebraska. Knowing it would be cooler in the morning, and that I would be indoors, I settled on jeans. In the years prior to the eighth grade, I had always worn baggy jeans. It had been Zachary's trademark style, I guess one could say. Now I would step out to school for the first time with jeans that actually hugged my body.

Comfort had been a major factor while picking out my perfect outfit. I wanted the clothes themselves to be comfortable, but also myself to be comfortable. However, theme had been another factor, and I had chosen to go with school colors. Which is why I went with a plain red t-shirt. Again, unlike the baggy boy clothes before, the shirt hugged my body and actually fit. Wardrobe had been one of the many things that had changed in the last year.

Another long breath came and went, and I knew most of the battle would be getting up the nerve to walk out of the door today. My hands wandered over my lower abdomen. Right above the waistband of my coral red bikini briefs, my fingers came to rest on two small scars. They were no bigger than an inch or so across, and angled in slightly toward the center of my lower abdomen. It was as if they were pointing to what had been taken from me. Two little bumps, like road bumps in my life, had caused me to change almost everything.

I had a harder time with letting go than I had imagined. Perhaps I was in shock at the hospital, but after having so much time now to realize what had happened, at times it felt overwhelming. My first year of junior high I had been a boy, secretly hiding my other life as a girl; though sometimes not doing such a bang up job of it. Last year, I had completed junior high as a girl; in a different state, a different house, and a different me. It was easy, as only my cousin, and the principal knew my real identity.

However, I missed home, and I missed my friends. My mother thought it best if I stayed with my Aunt Kimberly last year. She thought I could avoid the ongoing drama surrounding Tom's arrest, and the federal investigation brought down upon the group he got involved with. Not to mention my aunt happened to be a registered nurse, and helped me a lot through my transition. That's not to say I completely transitioned to being a girl. There were still some medical choices to be made, but I had ultimately made the decision to live as a girl. Which at times could bring up some difficult situations.

Several times in the past, in my head at least, I had decided that I would be a girl. Being so young, that "ultimate" decision had been reneged upon so many times I lost count. I knew that losing my testes did not instantly change me into a girl. However, it was a step in a certain direction, and one that was quite final. They were gone, and I had declined the offer for prosthetics. I figured why have something fake to remind me of the real ones I had lost?

That decision did not help at all with the shock of losing them. I could look down and see they were no longer there. It took me several months to adjust to their absence. However, the decision not to replace them, led to my decision to go on without them. It wasn't an easy decision, and I still struggled with it. Sometimes I questioned if I had made the right choice. Usually that question came every time I had a needle in me, injecting hormones throughout my entire body.

At least this time the drugs were better monitored, and we all knew what they were. The jury was still out on the results, however. My skin had become softer, and my hair had definitely gotten more body. I'd always shrugged that compliment off before, but now I knew what the hormones could do to my hair. Of course I also knew what they could do to my mind and body, and it had been a constant struggle keeping both of those in check.

The last thing I thought that I would ever worry about, happened to be the thing that girls around me worried about the most. Actually, girls and guys seemed to be focused on them at that age, but for different reasons. I couldn't even count how many times I heard a girl ask another girl if her breasts were too big, or too small. They weren't obsessed with them like boys, but it was another one of those things they questioned themselves about. If anything, they were worried that the boys would disapprove of them.

Part of that got into my head. I wasn't obsessed with having boobs either. They were simply one more thing I had to keep covered up now. However, for reasons I couldn't explain, I worried that they would not meet the approval of society. From a cultural standpoint, people where I lived considered it healthy to have big boobs. And gazing upon my paltry A cups in their coral red pushup bra, I worried that it would be one more thing to have to deal with later. They were still slightly uneven, but only noticeable if I stared at them for longer than a minute.

I sighed. Eventually I had to get going. Looking into the mirror once more, I forced a confident smile. I shrugged my shoulders up, and then let the stress fall out of my body. It was a technique my former therapist suggested as part of my goal to alleviate some of the more stressful situations in my life. Whenever I would be faced with a situation I thought would be stressful, I visualized it wrapped around me to where I had to throw it off.

Reaching for the handle, I yanked the door to the bathroom open. I took my first steps toward life as a high school student. My bare feet sank into the plush beige carpet. As I made my way to my room, my mother came around the corner from the kitchen. She looked nice; dressed in an ivory blouse, and grey pencil skirt. Her makeup looked perfect as usual, and her hair bounced with loose curls.

"You better get a move on," she said, before taking a bite of toast.

"I just have to get dressed," I said, passing into my room.

Things had definitely changed around here. In the past I wouldn't be caught dead running around the house in bra and panties. Not only would my stepfather be running me down, but I would've felt weird doing it with two guys in the house. My mother didn't seem to care at all. In fact, she would do it herself at times; running to get her clothes from the laundry room. Sometimes she would iron a blouse while in her bra. It wasn't like we stood around and talked while undressed, as that would be weird.

I always wondered what it would be like without Tom and Justin around. Now I knew. We actually had freedom. My mother had freedom to not always be dressed to impress Tom's company. While I had freedom to be who I wanted to be. Granted, I didn't want to be someone that ran around in lingerie, but I liked the freedom to be able to step across the hall in it.

"The bus will be here in about ten minutes," my mom yelled down the hall. "I don't have time to take you if you miss it."

"I literally just have to put my clothes on," I said, while grabbing a pair of white ankle socks from my drawer. "Everything else is ready to go."

"Good girl," my mom said, as she passed my room on the way to her own.

It still felt weird to hear her say that, even after a year of living as one. I looked down at my socks. Even those had changed. I had always worn plain white socks, that either rose barely above the ankle, or fell slightly under it. However, they had always been generic unisex socks. Never before had they looked so dainty and girly as the ones I held in my hand now. These were actual girls socks from the girls department; lighter weight with a touch of glimmer to the material.

I quickly put the socks on, and pulled on my jeans. Everything had been laying out ready to go for hours. Now everything felt so rushed. I could feel my stomach begin to tie itself into knots again. It took every ounce of fortitude I had to pull my shirt on, and sit to put on my white Skechers. I grabbed my book bag, and forced myself to stand. Then I turned to see my mother in the doorway.

She stepped into my room. Casually she reached up, and pulled a few strands of hair from beneath my shirt. She fluffed my hair a little on the sides. Then she put her hands on my shoulders and looked me over. I stood anxiously, a bundle of nerves ready to explode. There was a moment in time where I wanted this day more than anything, but now I found myself slowly growing to resent how I felt at that moment. I felt sick. I wanted to crawl back into bed.

"You look beautiful," my mother said, smiling. "You're going to be fine."

"I don't know about this," I said, quietly. My voice shook like my knees.

"Bailey," she said, looking into my eyes. "Take a deep breath. You can do this."

I nodded as I drew in a deep breath.

"Now…" she said, taking her hands off of my shoulder. "Smile, and go take on the world."

It was like her telling me to smile, actually forced me to smile. I took another deep breath, heaving my book bag onto my shoulder as I let it out. My mother stepped aside and I walked past her to the hallway. I quickly grabbed my lip gloss from the bathroom, and shoved it in my pocket as I made my way for the stairs. Twelve stairs later, and the door closed behind me, I was out in the world, ready to go to high school for my freshman year.

"Hi!"

I studied the strange girl at the end of the driveway, as I made my way down our front steps. She had short dark red hair, definitely dyed, framing her diamond-shaped face. Her pale skin actually made my few hours of sunbathing that week have meaning. She wore slightly baggy jeans that rested on her well worn Doc Martins. While her white Hard Rock shirt finished her off with a sort of trendy-grunge look. Though she looked highly too feminine and hygienic to be in with the grunge crowd.

"Hello," I said, as I approached her.

"Amber," she said, thrusting her hand out. "I just moved in across the street this summer."

As I took her hand, I couldn't help but notice the studded black bracelet and her black fingernails. This girl wanted to pull off the rocker look so bad, it reminded me of Tawny back in seventh grade. "Bailey," I said, shaking her hand. "I just came back this summer."

"Came back?" she asked, as our handshake concluded.

"I spent the last year at my aunt's house in Nebraska."

"How… boring," she said.

I smiled at her remark. "It had its moments."

Amber shrugged. "Hey, at least you had an adventure."

"I guess you could say that."

"And at least it wasn't Oklahoma," she said, smiling.

"Okay…" I shrugged, not knowing what she meant by that remark.

I looked over across the street. For years we had lived with, and occasionally watched, the couple that lived there. They seemed to fight all of the time, sometimes dragging it out into the street. She liked to throw things. He liked to yell obscenities. However, I don't think the police cared for visiting all that much. Eventually the couple would calm down for a few weeks or a month, but then the peace would be shattered, and they'd be at each others' throats again.

"So you're cute," Amber said, quickly drawing my focus.

"What?"

Her mouth dropped slightly. "I didn't mean it that way," she said. "I'm totally not into chicks." She gestured at my outfit. "I meant your ensemble. It's cute."

"Oh…" I looked down at my apparel. "Thanks. I probably look like a goody two-shoes though."

"Nah," she said, patting my shoulder. "Though if you had a Hello Kitty backpack, I'd totally rag on you."

I looked back up at her and laughed nervously. "Well…" I looked her over once more. "You've got a nice…"

Amber raised her eyebrows. "Yeah," she said. "I know I look like crap."

"Well I wouldn't say that."

"Oh, I'd be the first to admit it," Amber said. "I never do the whole new clothes shopping thing for school. I just put on whatever wasn't too worn out to be inappropriate."

"And the bracelet?" I pointed at her wrist.

Amber lifted her arm to look at it. "Okay, so I have a little bit of an alternative vibe going," she said. "But I'm not total Goth or emo. I swear… You wear black nail polish these days and everyone thinks you have feelings, or want to cut yourself."

"Wow," I said. "You really just say what's on your mind, don't you?"

"I was just… making conversation," she said, stepping back.

"No," I said, reaching out for her. "It's a good thing. Pretty refreshing. You remind me of another friend of mine." I glanced away for a moment. "At least I hope she's still a friend."

"So we're friends now?" Amber asked.

"Huh?"

"You said 'another' friend," she said. "Like we're already friends."

"Oh… I didn't realize…"

"Nah, it's cool," she said, slapping my shoulder. "I'll be your friend." She flashed me a smile.

"Friends then," I said, reaching out to shake her hand again.

Amber stepped forward and threw her arms around me. I stood there with my hands to the sides, wondering what fresh nightmare I had stepped into. As she departed from our awkward friend hug, I could tell by the look on her face that this was genuinely something she needed. Like she truly needed a friend to start the day. Perhaps she was having as much trouble facing high school as me, and we were both sort of the new kids in town.

"Hey!" Nathan Riley's voice sounded like a shotgun in a barrel. He slowly rolled up beside us in his Jeep. "You want a ride to school?"

"You know him?" Amber asked.

"He's an old friend," I said, as I approached Nathan's Jeep. I looked back at my house, and then turned to Nathan. "Sure. I'll ride with you."

"Cool." He reached across and opened the door, as he looked past me toward Amber. "How about you?"

Amber nervously looked up at her own house. I started to wonder if her mom or dad gave her the same lecture about riding in cars with new drivers. She stood there, kind of rocking from side to side. About that time the bus came up over the hill; it's brakes screeching as it stopped to pick up other students. Amber glanced at the bus, then at her house one last time.

"Why not?" she said, before brushing past me to get in the back seat.

I happened to glance up at her house. Standing at the front door was a large muscular man. His arms were crossed, and the look on his face told me the entire story. He was not happy with the decision Amber had made. I quickly handed off my bag to Amber, and jumped into the passenger seat. Any moment I feared her dad would come out after her, but he simply closed the door to the house.

"Your dad didn't look too happy," I said, as Nathan took off down the street.

"He'll get over it," Amber said, as she leaned forward between our seats. She stared at Nathan for a moment; a scene that became increasingly uncomfortable. "Hi there," she finally said.

"Hi," Nathan said.

"I'm Amber."

"Nathan." He glanced into the mirror. "Could you buckle in please."

"Okay, dad," Amber said, retreating back to her seat.

"I can always take you back to the bus," Nathan said, pulling up to a stop sign.

"Please don't," Amber said. "I'll be good. Promise."

The scene seemed pretty comical to me. Amber sounded like a little kid, scolded by her father, Nathan. I chuckled, as I looked out the window.

"What's so funny?" Nathan asked.

"Nothing," I said. "It's just… You two actually sounded like father and daughter there for a minute."

"I wouldn't mind having him as a dad," Amber said, winking at Nathan in the mirror. "Maybe he could spank me when I'm bad."

"Jeez," Nathan said. "You always this forward?"

"Do you like forward?" Amber asked, reaching up to caress his arm.

"Not particularly." Nathan shrugged her off, but I could tell he was noticeably flustered. He glanced over at me. "You worried about your first day?"

"Not as much as I was," I said, welcoming the change of subject. "It took a lot for me to get going though."

"Mhmm," Amber said. "She probably spent hours getting ready, to look that good."

"That's not exactly what I meant," I said.

"What did you mean then?" Amber asked.

I suddenly realized this wasn't the conversation I wanted to have with mixed company. And by mixed company, I meant someone that didn't know about my past with someone that did. I knew Nathan was asking how I felt about going to high school as a girl. Unfortunately, I just couldn't answer that question the way I wanted to right now. At least not in front of Amber.

"She's been away for a year," Nathan quickly said. "I was wondering how she felt about that." He gave me a knowing look.

"Oh," Amber said. "I just moved here. Military brat. Don't even know how long I'll stay this time."

"That has to suck," I said, turning to face her.

Amber shrugged. "You get used to it." She looked down at the piece of paper in her hand. "Cool! We're both in the same drama class. I'll save you a seat."

"You went through my stuff!?" I asked, ready to jump into the back seat with her.

"Relax," she said. "I didn't go through anything. I just saw your schedule sticking out." She put it back in my book bag. "I didn't look at your locker combo, if that's what got your panties in a twist."

Nathan chuckled from the driver's seat. "You know… I'm starting to like her."

"Thanks," Amber said, smiling brightly.

I sat back down in my seat in a noticeable huff.

"How did you get out of gym class?" Amber asked. "My dad thinks that's like the most important class of the day."

I shifted uncomfortably, and glanced out the window. "I… I was kind of late getting enrolled," I said. "Had to take what they gave me."

"Lucky," Amber said. "Hey, Nathan. Are you like a senior?"

"Junior," Nathan said.

"Nice," Amber said. "How did you meet Bailey then?"

"I knew her brother," Nathan said. "And then Bailey and I became friends."

"You two ever… you know?"

We both said "no" at the same time, causing an awkward silence afterwards.

"Too weird?" Amber asked. "Or is Nathan gay?"

"I'm not gay," Nathan said, laughing nervously.

"I mean it's cool if you are," Amber said. "I won't judge." She looked out of her window. "That's my dad's job."

"He's not gay," I said.

"Are you gay, Bailey?" A long silent pause awkwardly filled the inside of the Jeep. Nobody said anything for at least a minute. That is until Amber shattered the silence again. "Oh shit! You're totally gay, aren't you?"

"No," I said. "I mean, not totally."

Nathan glanced at me with a rather confused expression on his face.

"Bi?" Amber asked. "That's so cool!" she exclaimed without letting me answer. "Have you made out with a girl before?"

"I guess you could say that," I muttered.

"That's totally awesome!" Amber said, as she lightly grabbed my shoulder and shook me. "I had a lesbian friend where I lived last year. She was like one of those… well… I'll just say she hated men. Like wanted to see them all die." She paused for a moment. "Sorry… How was it? You know… Making out with a girl?"

I glanced at Nathan, who had seemed to tune out the conversation now. I could tell I was in this alone. "I… don't know," I said.

"It's cool," Amber said. "We don't have to talk about it."

The vehicle grew silent for several minutes. I stared out the window. The truth was that I didn't mind talking about it. I just didn't know Amber all that well. She hadn't even told me her last name, and here we were blabbing about sexual orientation. Furthermore, I hadn't even answered that question. She only assumed the answer by my non-answer. It seemed weird, but she had a way of getting people to talk. I worried had it gone on any longer, she probably would've learned about my being transgender.

"And we're here," Nathan said loudly, as he pulled into the school parking lot.

We slowly navigated our way through the mess of student drivers. Eventually we found a spot to park that wasn't extremely far from campus. Although I'm sure Nathan wanted to park his new vehicle as far away from damage as possible. It didn't seem like an option in the cramped confines of the student parking lot. I quickly opened the door as soon as the Jeep stopped moving.

"You guys are totally awesome," Amber said. "Thanks for the ride, Nathan." She lightly grabbed his arm before she climbed out of the Jeep. "See you seventh period, Bailey."

"Yeah, see ya," I said.

"Bailey," Nathan said quietly.

I turned to face him.

Nathan looked at me with some concern. "That was… interesting. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said smiling.

"No," he said. "I mean… Are you okay? Like going to high school today, and everything, after…You know?"

"Truthfully," I said, closing the door. "I'm a little nervous. And I don't think that conversation helped."

"Actually, it might have helped more than you know," Nathan said. "If it had been just us, it all would've been about the past. Not really the things we'd need to think about today."

"The past is the past," I said. "Things don't have to be what they once were."

"I'm just worried about you," Nathan said.

"I'll be fine." I flashed him a reassuring smile. "It's just school."

"Bailey…" he said. "About the other day…"

"What about it?"

"The kiss…" He looked at me. "That was just a friendly thank you, right?"

"Oh," I said. "Yeah. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea."

"No," Nathan said. "No need to apologize. It's exactly what I thought. I just wanted to make sure."

"Total friend kiss," I said, smiling.

"Okay," Nathan said, returning the smile.

Stepping out of the vehicle, I realized how extremely not "fine" I felt. I grabbed my book bag out of the back seat, and flung it over my shoulder. Nathan stepped out of the Jeep as I closed the door on the passenger side. He closed his door, and walked to the back of the Jeep. Soon after I joined him, and we both took a deep breath, and quickly let it out.

"Where's your bag?" I asked.

"I put everything in my locker after practice yesterday," he said. "Want me to carry yours?"

"That's really sweet," I said, "but I think I can manage."

"Okay…" He nodded back behind him to the school. "Shall we?"

I looked toward the school. In the sunlight the windows on the buildings glimmered, as if it were a shining beacon of hope. Then again, it could've been a mirage. For all I knew, this could be the beginning of the worst four years of my life. Pushing those feelings aside, I took my first steps toward the future. If anything, I had to embrace the next four years with optimism. I was going to high school as a girl, and was determined to make it the best four years of my life.

"I can drive you home today," Nathan said. "But the rest of the semester I'll be in practices, or going to games."

"I should probably ride the bus," I said. "So the driver at least knows I exist."

We both chuckled.

"I get ya," Nathan said. "I don't mind bringing you though. I have to go by your house every morning anyway."

"Well now that offer pretty much extends to Amber," I said. "You sure about that?"

Nathan shrugged. "She's okay," he said. "Talks a lot, but I don't think she's trying to be a bitch about it."

"I wouldn't know," I said. "Just met her about two minutes before you did."

"I'd be careful about what you say around her," Nathan said. "At least until you know her better."

"Yeah… I kind of picked up on that." I kicked at a rock in the pavement. "I can't believe I blabbed about being… You know."

"At least she was cool with it," Nathan said. "Maybe she won't tell the whole school by the end of the day."

"She wouldn't be a good friend, if she did," I said.

"Well," Nathan said. "I have to go that way." He nodded to a building on the right. "Good luck, Bailey."

"Thanks."

I stood for a moment and watched Nathan walk away. He actually looked pretty good wearing normal clothes. While he still had on his football jersey for Friday, he wore it with jeans and sneakers. It looked nice, and a little more dressy than gym shorts. Eventually he disappeared into the growing crowd of students. I read something about having over two thousand students this year. Now I could see that number in full effect.

My legs started working again. I strolled toward my first class, taking in the atmosphere as I went. While I had seen the campus a week ago, I never pictured it with so many people. It seemed so big. Students whizzed past me. Some of them exchanged quick glances with me, while others took more of a gander. The few that smiled, I would return the smile in kind.

Still, I did not see anyone I knew. As I sat down in my science class, I even began to worry a little. Nobody looked recognizable. It seemed as if I stepped into some weird alternate dimension, where all of the kids my age didn't exist anymore. At least there wasn't anyone I personally recognized. Although people could have changed as well in the past year.

The teacher walked in as the last bell rang. She strolled to the front of the class, and opened her role book. Then she asked us all to stand up. Slowly she went through the book, calling role. With each name she called, she had us sit in alphabetical order. Oddly enough I recognized a few of the names from seventh grade. However, they weren't people I necessarily knew that well. In the end, I wound up sitting next to a skater boy named Brendan Tucker.

The next fifty minutes were extremely boring. At least it was more entertaining for Brendan. I caught him staring at me twice. Either he was stoned, or as bored as me. He seemed to take a liking to me, from what I could tell. When the teacher passed out textbooks and the syllabus, I swear Brendan deliberately tried to touch my hand. I continually watched the clock, and prayed for class to be over. Eventually the bell rang and I hurried to get away from him.

As I walked to my next class, I began to worry if I had made the right decision. I could have easily stayed with my aunt for four years. Nobody knew me there, and I could've slipped through high school without an issue. The only thing that seemed familiar here was my mother and Nathan. Yet, even Nathan seemed a bit standoffish to me. It was as if he was asking the question himself of why I came back.

I wandered into the art room, thinking that maybe I should have even stayed a boy. Again, nobody looked familiar. Had I hit some strange time loop where everyone I knew had stayed in eighth grade, while I went on to high school? The odds of every single one of my friends getting held back a grade, would be impossible. Right as I began to pick a chair, a group of students cleared out. I locked eyes with a pair of hazel beauties.

Tiffany Stewart's jaw dropped. Her eyes grew to where they seemed likely to pop out of her skull. She waved me over to her table. As I weaved through the students hovering around the classroom, Tiffany wouldn't take her eyes off of me. I finally made it over to her table, and she pushed out a chair.

"Am I dreaming?" she asked.

"Hi Tiff."

"Is it really you?" Tiffany asked. "I mean, are you really here as…" She gestured toward my attire.

"Yes," I said. "It's me." I glanced around the room. "And yes… it's me," I said again, after lowering my voice.

"Wow," she said quietly. "You look amazing."

"Thanks," I said. "You look as pretty as ever."

Tiffany blushed. She lowered her head slightly and let her long black hair cover it up. "I never thought I'd see you again," she said. "After that night…" She clamped her hand down on my wrist. "You have to tell me everything."

I put my hand on hers. "I will," I said. "I'm surprised you're not mad at me."

"Well… I wish you would have called," Tiffany said. "But I think I understand why you didn't. I don't see how I could be mad at you." She gave me a half smile. "I kept asking Kate, but she said Justin wouldn't say a word to her about you."

"Yeah," I said. "I don't get why Justin was so hush-hush about it."

The warning bell rang, causing us both to jump in our seats. Tiffany pulled her hand back. "I want to know everything," she said. "I mean it. Everything…"

"Are you busy tonight?"

"I'm going to the game with Tracy," she said. "Come with us."

"Really?" I asked. "You like football now?"

"Not exactly," she said. "Jason is playing, and Tracy wants to go watch. So I said I'd go with her."

"Those two are still together?"

Tiffany nodded. "Tawny will be there too."

"The three T's back in action," I said, laughing a little. "I guess I could go."

The final bell rang, followed immediately by our teacher's voice. He nearly had to shout over the group of talking kids. "Alright everyone," he said. "Pick a seat, and prepare to be stuck in it for the rest of the year."

"That's a relief," I said to Tiffany. "We had assigned seating last hour."

Tiffany looked me over one last time. I noticed a slight twinkle in her eye at one point. She smiled. Then we both turned to focus on what second period art would have in store for us for the next year. After receiving an art supply list, and a twenty minute opening lecture on what art meant, the rest of class seemed to blaze by. I had very little time to talk to Tiffany after class, as I needed to make it all the way across campus. We did have just enough time for her to tell me when her sister could swing by and pick me up.

I walked off toward my next class. Amazingly Tiffany wasn't mad at me, at least not super mad. I'm sure she had been a little upset not hearing from me in a year. That year had been extremely kind to her as well. Tiffany had turned into the splitting image of her sister, Kate. Truthfully, I had always had a crush on Kate, even while "going steady" with Tiffany. I always felt guilty about it. However, at only fourteen, Tiffany had the makings of a supermodel. I wanted to say she was drop dead gorgeous, but all I could come up with for a compliment was "pretty."

All the way to English class, I kicked myself inwardly. There were times I wish I had said what needed to be said. It amazed me how good Amber had become at that. She wasn't scared to say what was on her mind. Granted, I wouldn't want to be as crass with it as Amber, but I had to admit it was a desirable personality trait for an introvert like me. Being so consumed in my thoughts I barely noticed I had made it to my next class.

"Yo, Bailey!"

I looked up to see Jason Coleman. Next to him sat a rather stunned, and slightly thinner, Tracy Young. Jason looked a little huskier than I remembered. He filled out his freshman football jersey rather well, but it just didn't have the flare that Nathan's varsity jersey had. Tracy, on the other hand, had lost weight, and had really toned out her body. I imagine she spent a lot of time in her pool, or perhaps even on the pool team. Her red hair seemed to be slightly damaged from chlorine.

"Come sit with us," Jason said.

"I'm surprised you even recognized me," I said, as I slipped into a chair behind them.

"Are you kidding?" Jason asked. "How could I forget the girl who hooked us up?"

"What happened to you anyway?" Tracy asked.

"Yeah," Jason said. "You just vanished for a year."

"It's a long story," I said.

"You coming to the game tonight?" Jason asked.

"Yes, actually," I said. "I told Tiff I'd go with her."

"Nice," Tracy said. "We can catch up."

I nodded to her as the bell rang. The teacher got up and started addressing the class. As she talked, and had us hand out textbooks, I suddenly got a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. Now I worried about actually running into people I knew. It began to worry me how many people recognized me. Tiffany, I could understand, but I wasn't around Tracy a lot. Jason, on the other hand, barely knew me. He never even knew that I used to cross dress, though I'm sure Tracy told him at some point. However, he referred to me in a feminine noun without missing a beat. That alone just seemed off.

The next few hours went by painfully slow. I knew a few students in Geography and Algebra I, but only by name recognition. One boy actually gave me a double take when the teacher called my name. Though I think he had second thoughts about my last name. At least I could be thankful for the slight name change. It provided a small buffer for me to relax behind.

By noon I found myself meandering through the day. It was lunch time, and I had not even thought to ask anyone if they had the same lunch period. With lunch tray in hand, I stood before a sea of students. Vacant spots were scattered amongst the large folding tables. Anyone wearing a football jersey filled up a row of tables. Apparently it was some school tradition for the team to sit together on game day. Today it happened to include the entire team.

I cautiously made my way to a vacant spot near the door. As I passed a table of cheerleaders, one of them asked me if I wanted to buy a ribbon. My mother gave me barely enough money for lunch, so I had to decline her offer. Luckily it didn't hurt her feelings any, and I quickly moved away from the situation. I finally found a seat, and dug in; prepared to eat alone.

A few minutes later, the room filled with the sound of guys whistling and giving catcalls. I turned to see three cheerleaders walking up onto a small stage. The one in the middle smiled and then blushed as the whistles kept coming. Then she proceeded to announce that the cheerleaders were selling ribbons for Students Against Drunk Driving, and pointed out where to find them. After a few more cheers and whistles, she walked off of the stage with the other two cheerleaders. I shook my head, prepared to go back to eating.

Suddenly someone threw their arms around me, embracing me tightly from behind. I nearly fell into my tray of food, before I was rocked backwards. From the feel of the embrace, I could tell it was a girl. That, and the alternating red and black fingernails kind of gave it away. Eventually the mystery person let go and sat down next to me on the stool seat.

"Now this girl has school spirit!"

"Tawny!?"

"Bailey!?"

Tawny Simmons returned my surprised tone in an equally, but still mocking, tone of surprise. I couldn't believe my eyes. Tawny, the girl most likely to never be caught dead in something feminine, sat before me in a cheerleader outfit. Instead of raggedy skater shorts and an old t-shirt, Tawny donned the ribbons, shell, skirt, lacy socks and sneakers. Tawny wore it all, and she wore it well. She looked absolutely stunning, and ultra feminine.

"You're…" I looked her over again. "A cheerleader."

Tawny looked down at her own apparel. "I am!?"

"You look good," I said.

Tawny's bright green eyes came up to meet mine. "You too," she said, smiling. "Exactly what I saw when I drew that picture a year ago."

I felt myself start to blush, and I turned away from her. Then I felt her fingers gently touch my chin, and she turned me back to look at her.

"I always knew," she said quietly, "but I never expected to see it. When Tiffany told me, I hardly believed her. But now…" Tawny's chest heaved as she took a labored breath. "You really look amazing, Bailey."

Another cheerleader walked over to us. "You're supposed to be selling ribbons, Tawny," she said. "Not picking up dates."

I looked up at the other cheerleader, and recognized her immediately. "Rachel?"

Rachel Ford stopped glaring at Tawny. She bent down slightly to look at me. "Whoa!" she exclaimed, taking a step back. "Holy crap…" Her voice had dropped to a breathless whisper.

"She meant that in a good way," Tawny said, dropping her hand onto my knee.

"Yeah," Rachel said, her voice returning to her. "I mean… totally." She quickly sat down next to me, on the other side, and spun me around to face her. "Wow…" Her light brown eyes studied me. "You look better than Megan ever did."

My lips dropped to a slight frown. "That's not fair," I said.

"No," Tawny said, from behind me. "Totally fair. Screw that bitch." She spun me back around. "You look…" She drew in a deep breath. "Hot!" she said, with the exhale.

"Would you like a ribbon?" Rachel asked, close to my ear.

I turned slightly back to her. "I don't have any money."

"Just say yes," Rachel said.

"Yes?"

Tawny turned me around to face her once more. I could still hardly believe her black hair being done up in pigtails, with streams of ribbon hanging from them. She looked absolutely adorable. Then something hit me. I couldn't say what was on my mind to Tiffany, but I somehow felt the courage now.

"You look absolutely adorable," I said, repeating my thoughts out loud. "With the ribbons and everything."

I watched as Tawny's cheeks almost turned the same shade of red as her uniform. She lowered her head slightly, looking up at me across her brow. "Stop…" she said, quietly.

"I agree with you," Rachel said. "And soon you're going to look adorable too."

"Wait… what?"

I tried to turn to face Rachel, but she forced my head back around. Tawny started giggling. Soon I felt strands of my hair being pulled in different directions. Rachel yanked my head back, with a firm grasp on my hair. I felt Tawny's hands on my knees. She told me to relax. After a few minutes of swift tugs, and pulls, Rachel let me go. My hands slowly reached for my hair. Eventually they came into contact with streaming ribbons, which neatly held my hair up into two pigtails.

Tawny smiled brightly at me. "Adorable," she said.

"My work is done," Rachel said, standing up from the table and walking away. "Now you're ready for the game!"

"Oh yeah," Tawny said. "Tiff told me you're going to the game tonight."

I nodded, still feeling my hair. It felt like it was being pulled in two different directions. I imagined my scalp splitting down the middle at any moment.

"I have to do the whole cheerleading thing for the freshman game," she said. "Can we talk afterwards?"

"Sure," I said.

"I'll see you then," Tawny said, rising from her seat.

"Wait," I said, grabbing for her wrist. "Can't you sit with me?"

Tawny gave me a strained look. "I have to do the whole ribbon thing today," she said. "Got out of class for it."

"Oh," I said. "I understand."

"On the bright side," she said, "this is my lunch period." Tawny smiled at me. "So I can sit with you the rest of the year." She nodded toward Rachel. "Rachel too, if you want?"

"That would be great," I said. "It's kind of lonely here."

Tawny twisted her hand around to where she now held my wrist. She beckoned me with her other hand, as she started to pull me from my seat. Then she threw her arms around me once more, and I returned the embrace this time. We hugged for quite awhile.

"I missed you," Tawny said, pulling away.

"I missed you too," I said.

"I'll see you tonight," Tawny said, as she started to walk away. After a few steps she turned to look over her shoulder. She gave me a quick wink, and turned to keep walking.

The next hour seemed like a blur. Music Appreciation was actually more fun than I thought it would be. The history of it seemed interesting. I'd always liked music, but had always only been just okay at it. I could sing well enough to be in the background. I had aspirations of learning an instrument; mainly guitar. Apparently I had good rhythm during exercises in other music classes.

Carla and Nancy were in the same class, but I don't think they recognized me. Before class started, I thought about going over to say hello, but changed my mind. I had enough people to catch up with today, and I could save the rest for later. It was going to be a busy night. And I'd only just realized that I had made all of these plans without even knowing if my mother would allow me to go. Hopefully she would cut me some slack and let the spontaneous night slide.

With about an hour left of school, I made my way to my last class for the day. Already the change of campuses was wearing me out. Every year of school, until now, I had only had to walk around in one building. This school had several buildings, separated into different areas of education. Between them were walkways and trees, even a gazebo in the middle of campus. The experience of walking in and out, from building to building, was exhausting in its own right.

I found my way past the cafeteria, and into the auditorium on the other side. The auditorium was built more recently, and the transition from old part of the building to new was rather strange. In some places it seemed like they didn't really get the alignment right. It also didn't flow very well, as the newer auditorium had decades of advancements going for it. Where the cafeteria side looked old and grungy, the auditorium looked new and shiny.

As I strolled along the aisle separating the seating, front to back, I admired the stage. Massive red curtains were neatly furled along the sides. They hid another row of black curtains behind them. The stage itself looked newer, but worn; the wood even gleaming in spots beneath the lights. Even the seats in the auditorium had been updated to stadium seating. This had to be the neatest building on campus. I strolled over to a seat, and plopped down; taking in the atmosphere.

"Hiya neighbor!" Amber plopped down next to me. She lifted her feet and plopped her worn Doc Martins down on the chair in front of her. "How was your first day?"

Before I could say anything, another dark-haired girl walked over. She reached out and flipped Amber's feet off of the chair. "Respect the theater please," she said, in a stern voice.

"Sorry…" Amber said, straightening up in her seat.

I looked at the girl for a long moment, before realizing I knew her. That heart-shaped face and those turquoise eyes; they seemed so familiar. What gave her away more than anything though, were her preppy clothes. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they came right off of the racks at 'Tweens.

"Jillian?"

The girl stopped and looked at me. She studied me for a long moment. Her brow furrowed, as if she were trying to conjure up some past image of me, but couldn't quite make it out. I watched as her mouth moved, possibly trying to remind her of a name. Of all the people, I thought Jillian Wilcox would instantly recognize me. She had nearly blew my cover back in junior high.

"It's Bailey," I said.

"Bailey?" Jillian sat down next to me. "Holy cow! I didn't recognize you in the dark. And I didn't expect you to be wearing…" She motioned at my clothing. "I mean…" She glanced over at Amber, and suddenly became aware of the situation. "This girl was always in skirts," Jillian lied to Amber. "Never wore jeans." She turned to me, her eyes apologetic. "How have you been? I haven't seen you since I started high school."

"I've been good," I said, recovering myself from the almost sticky situation. "I've actually been at my aunt's place the last year."

"No wonder I never saw you around," Jillian said. "Nancy and Carla were worried you ran away from home."

"Well I sort of did," I said, with a slight laugh.

"You seem to be the popular one," Amber said, from beside me.

"I'm sorry… Amber, this is Jillian. Jillian, this is Amber, my neighbor." I watched them shake hands. "I just met her this morning."

"And we're already the best of friends," Amber said, throwing her arm around my shoulder.

I gave Jillian a slight eye-roll, though I wasn't sure if she caught it in the dark. "Why don't you sit with us?"

Jillian smiled. "Well, I wouldn't want to get between two besties."

"It's cool," Amber said. "I'll scoot down one." With that, Amber practically jumped into the next seat over. She patted the seat between us. "Come on. I wanna hear more about you two."

"I need to grab my bag," Jillian said, retreating to the aisle.

"Is that the girl you made out with?" Amber asked, her voice barely audible.

I turned to face Amber in shock. "No!"

"Too bad," Amber said. "She's got that prep school bitch thing going for her. Kind of sexy."

About that time, someone came up and put their hands over my eyes. I reached up to touch them. "Guess who…" a voice whispered in my ear.

"Tiff?"

"Yeah…" Tiffany said, disappointingly. She dropped her hands. "Am I that bad at disguising my voice?"

"Nah," I said, looking back at her, smiling. "I just recognized your watch from earlier."

Tiffany slapped me on the shoulder. "You cheat." She tossed her bag in the chair next to me. "I gotta run to the girls' room. Save me a seat."

"Sure." I watched her leave. Somehow I couldn't quite turn away from the image of her butt in those jeans. Suddenly I felt a presence next to me.

"Was that the girl you made out with?" Amber whispered, rather close to my ear.

I turned to see her leaning over the seat next to me. "If you must know," I said. "Yes. That's Tiffany. My…" I paused for a moment. What in the world were we? "My ex-girlfriend," I finished.

"Not bad," Amber said, nudging me with her elbow. "Nice to see you're still friends."

"Yeah…"

I turned back to find Tiffany, but she had already left the auditorium. The warning bell rang out, letting everyone know there was one minute until class started. Jillian returned, and took a seat between Amber and me. She had let her hair grow out a little, and it looked pretty cute. I smiled when she turned to glance at me, and she returned the smile. Then she leaned in close to whisper in my ear.

"How's life on the other side?"

"It's… been interesting," I said. "A lot of things to deal with."

"How long?" she asked, trying to remain cryptic.

"A little over a year," I said.

"That's…" Jillian looked me over. "Really remarkable." She nudged me lightly with her elbow. "Good for you."

Tiffany plopped down in the seat next to me, just as the tardy bell rang. "So I was thinking just now," she said. "You could walk over to my house after school. It's just two blocks. Then we could hang out before the game. That way my sister wouldn't have to come get you across town."

"I'm thinking I might have to ask my mom first," I said. "She doesn't even know about my plans."

"Oh," Tiffany said. "I understand."

Jillian leaned over. "You could call her after school," she said. "If she says no, Dylan can give you a ride home."

"Who's Dylan?" Tiffany asked.

"Her cousin," I said. I turned to Jillian. "Are you going to the game?"

Jillian shook her head. "I have to work."

I looked at Jillian for a moment. I actually felt sorry for her still having to give up Friday nights to work at her parent's store. "Dylan won't mind?"

Jillian shook her head again. "It's on the way to the mall." She turned to face us. "Besides, you two should get a chance to catch up." She reached out and playfully poked me in the ribs. "But I expect you to catch me up later too."

"I will," I said. "I promise."

"So it's settled?" Tiffany asked.

I shrugged. "I guess so. Thanks Jillian."

"No problem."

"Guys," Amber whispered loudly.

We all turned to look at her in unison. Then we noticed she was pointing at the stage. In unison again, we all turned to look at the stage. It was quite a sight. An elderly man hobbled up the stairs, barely able to hold himself up on the railing. His balding head shined in the lights on stage. He reached the top of the stairs, and turned to hobble to the middle of the stage. His hand held his lower back, as if each year he had aged added another layer of pain to it.

After a few minutes of shuffling his feet, he finally arrived at his destination. For a minute he paused to look at us through the glasses hanging on his nose. He slowly reached into his pocket, pulling a handkerchief from it. The students watched in silence as he raised the handkerchief to pat his brow. Eventually he put it away, and pulled out an old pocket watch. He fumbled with it for a minute; shaking it, holding it to his ear, and then getting irritated with it and tossing it to the floor.

The students started to mumble amongst themselves. A few fits of laughter broke out. The old man looked out into the crowd. He lifted his hand to his forehead, as if he was trying to see where the laughter came from. Eventually he gave up, and started to pat his pockets. Then suddenly he stopped moving and collapsed onto the stage.

Audible gasps were heard throughout the auditorium. One of them even came from Tiffany sitting next to me. Several students jumped to their feet. Someone asked if we should call an ambulance. The old man's hand shot up abruptly toward the ceiling. He held his index finger up. Then he let it fall again, causing the class to get worried once more.

A young woman's voice boomed from center stage. "Welcome to theater class!" The old man jumped to his feet. "My name is Miss Castile," the "old man" said.

Applause filled the front half of the auditorium. The "old man" gave a rather feminine and pronounced curtsey in the middle of the stage. It looked rather strange, but cemented the fact that it was all a ruse. Ms. Castile, still in costume, motioned for us all to sit down. She walked to the edge of the stage, and lowered herself onto the edge. Then she started to peel away a prosthetic nose.

"You all are in for a real treat," Ms. Castile said, taking off her glasses. "You get to see me without the costume."

A few students chuckled up front.

"I've had to wear this all day," she continued. "But no more!" she exclaimed in an exaggerated British accent.

Ms. Castile finished peeling the rest of her mask off. Then she pulled off the balding gray wig, and yanked a bobby pin from her hair. Her long blonde hair cascaded down over her shoulder. Without the makeup, she looked extremely young. If I were to wager a guess, I would say she was in her late twenties. Soon after removing the makeup, she started to slip out of her old brown sport coat.

She stopped with it midway down her arms. "You settle down," she said, pointing to a boy in the front. "This is not a peep show. I have clothing on underneath."

I joined in with the rest of the laughing students. Eventually Ms. Castile shed her clothing, magically removing ten pounds from her frame in the process. Beneath everything she had on black leggings and a white tunic top. Next she applied some light makeup. Then she reached into a bag and pulled out a pair of black pumps. While slipping them on, she looked out into the crowd.

"Ladies and gentleman," she said, lifting her arm toward the stage. "Today I shall share the spotlight with you. For the rest of the semester, it shall be yours alone." Ms. Castile effortlessly stood back up in her new heels. "When I call your name, I'd like you to come to center stage. Share a little about yourself. Tell us what your favorite movie, play, or musical is, and why? And also why you decided to take drama?" She paused for a moment. "That is assuming you have a reason."

"I hate doing this," Tiffany said, quietly.

"You and me both," I replied. "And I didn't exactly sign up for this."

Slowly each student walked up to the stage when their name was called. Watching some of them, you would think they were walking to the gallows. The most reluctant one of all happened to be a boy. I didn't catch his name, but he stood there nearly speechless as Ms. Castile prodded the answers from him like an interrogator. Eventually he sat down, and Ms. Castile called out the next name.

"Amber Miller."

"That be me," Amber said, as she jumped from her seat. She casually strolled down the aisle, and bounced up onto the stage.

"Hi, Amber," Ms. Castile said.

"Hello," Amber said. She turned to the audience. "My name is Amber. I'm a military brat. A lot of people think that's a negative term, but it's just a silly acronym." She paused for a moment. "I've moved around a lot. I've been to… ten states now. Fifteen if you count going back to the same states. That's how many times I've moved. Most of that time I spent on military bases. Only recently we chose to live off base." She looked over at Ms. Castile. "I haven't really seen a lot of plays or musicals, so I don't have a favorite. Top Gun is probably my favorite movie though. A lot of action. Some drama…"

"And why did you take drama?" Ms. Castile asked.

"I consider myself outspoken," Amber said. "I figured I might as well put it to good use, and have fun while I'm at it."

Ms. Castile smiled. "Very good. Thank you Amber."

She started to clap, causing the other students to join her. Several more students took their turn on the stage. Eventually the class roster started dwindling down to my end of the alphabet. That feeling returned in the pit of my stomach. I'd never been on stage before. Public speaking sat about midstream in my all time list of fears. Why I decided to take this class was beyond me. The only thing that would compound the fear, is if someone knew me and outted me on stage.

"Vince Simmons," Ms. Castile said loudly.

Tiffany sat up straight, and I joined her. "I didn't know he was in this class," she said.

"Are you two still friends?" I asked.

"Hardly," Tiffany said. "I haven't spoken to him since… well… since you left, actually."

Vince strolled across the stage, stopping next to Ms. Castile. "Hi. I'm Vince," he said. "My actual name is Vincent Simmons the third, but I prefer Vince. I've always liked acting."

"He's telling the truth there," I muttered.

"I chose to take this class, because I wanted to learn more about theater," Vince continued. "I'd actually like to get into playwriting some day, and possibly become a director. My favorite play is Damn Yankees, because I also like baseball."

"Thank you Vince," Ms. Castile said, gesturing that he could leave the stage. "I'm glad you mentioned playwriting, as we will actually be doing that in this class. I'll explain that a little more after the introductions." She looked down at her role sheet. "Tiffany Stewart. You're up."

Vince paused in his descent from the stage. He glanced over at Tiffany as she rose from her seat. Slowly she walked down the aisle as Vince took his seat. Again, I couldn't stop staring at Tiffany's butt. I hardly ever stared at girls like that, but Tiffany seemed to be an eye magnet for me. Perhaps it was the fact that I had actually seen her naked butt that one summer. Maybe it stuck in my mind so well that I couldn't shake it. Or maybe she just looked so good in jeans.

"Hello everyone. I'm Tiffany," she said as she reached center stage. Then she froze. For a moment I thought she got stage fright. She took a deep breath. "When I was younger, I had an amazing friend. We used to play pretend together. We'd make up games, or stories in our head, and act them out. I always loved acting out those parts. I loved being with my friend. Unfortunately, they had to move away. I missed them dearly, and I chose to take acting to relive some of what I'd lost."

"That was touching," Ms. Castile said, as she put her hand on Tiffany's shoulder. "I'd ask you what your favorite play was, but I imagine it was one you shared with your friend."

Tiffany hurried off of the stage.

"Bailey Taylor. Come on down."

I rose from my seat. That dreaded feeling had now coursed throughout my body. I could feel it in my veins. It caused my heart to thump against my chest. Vaguely it reminded me of that feeling I got right before I would pass out. Only that had to do with severe pain; pain I had not felt since my surgery. This moment just felt like sickness. Yet, I pushed on.

My body trembled ever so slightly as I climbed the stairs. By the time I crossed over to center stage, I could feel thirty-five pairs of eyes on me. It felt like a heavy stone tied around my neck. Like they were waiting for me to collapse, or fail. Ms. Castile smiled at me as I drew closer to her.

"I love the pigtails," she said.

"Huh?" I reached up to touch my hair, and remembered my earlier episode. "Oh… I got attacked by cheerleaders at lunch."

Ms. Castile gave a slight titter. She threw her arm around my shoulder, pulling me in for a casual side hug. "Let's all give Bailey a round of applause for braving the trials and tribulations of the dreaded high school cheerleading squad."

The crowd erupted into applause and restrained laughter. At one point someone even threw in a wolf whistle. That did not meet the approval of Ms. Castile, and she frowned in the direction from whence it came. Eventually Ms. Castile let me go. She quieted the crowd. Then she turned to face me, her back to the other students.

"You look nervous," she said quietly. "Take your time." She turned to address the other students. "Miss Bailey," she said, holding her hand up toward me.

"I really don't know where to start," I said. "I've been away for a year. Stayed with my aunt in Nebraska. It was a lot quieter there. My last school only had a basketball team, and barely anyone good enough to fill it."

A few students chuckled. I glanced over at Ms. Castile, who gave me a warm smile. I took a deep breath, and slowly let it out.

"Growing up… I was never really allowed to be myself. I had a stepfather who was a complete control freak of sorts. He was the reason I had to leave." Glancing at Ms. Castile again, I could tell she was worried about where I was going with this. I quickly rerouted my train of thought. "I guess you could say that acting, to me, is a way to express myself in a new way. Truthfully, I signed up for technical drama, and ended up in this class." I turned back to Ms. Castile. "But now I'm glad that happened. Because I can get that chance to express myself."

"Well said," Ms. Castile said. "And do you have a favorite play or musical?"

"I don't really have a favorite," I said. "I like quite a few. Mostly whimsical stuff like The Wizard of Oz."

"So… a general love of theater?"

I nodded.

"Well," Ms. Castile said. "I can certainly live with that." She started to clap. "Thank you Miss Bailey."

I moved off of the stage quickly as the other students finished their applause.

"Last, but certainly not least," Ms. Castile said, "Jillian Wilcox."

Jillian had already moved for the stage, apparently knowing she would be last. She passed by me, grabbing my arm. "That was really brave," she said, quietly. Then she let me go and continued up to the stage. I barely made it back to my seat before Jillian started talking.

"Hi. I'm Jillian," she said. "Or Jill. I don't mind either." She paused for a moment. "For those who don't know, my family owns a store at the mall. Sometimes…" She shrugged. "A lot of the time… I have to work there. To help out. So while everyone is having a blast running around the mall on Friday night, I'm stuck there working." She looked down at the stage for a moment. "I don't get a lot of free time for after school activities. So I try to experience them while I'm in school. I wanted to give theater a shot, so that's why I'm here." She looked back up at Ms. Castile. "My favorite musical has always been Les Miserables. I've always loved the music to it, and the story of redemption."

"Excellent," Ms. Castile said. "Thank you Jillian." She turned to the other students as we clapped for Jillian. "And thank you everyone for sharing today." After the applause died, Ms. Castile stepped to the front of the stage. "As you can see, we are vastly different from one another, and we all have a story to tell. I ask that you all respect one another while in this class. This should be an environment where we can all come in and open ourselves up. Casting away the burdens of every day life, and enjoy being in the moment." She paused for a moment to let that sink in. "Now… A little about myself. My name is Jennifer Castile. You will only refer to me by my first name if it is directly followed with the phrase, 'the auditorium is on fire!' Otherwise, it is not an emergency."

Nervous laughter broke out momentarily.

"I have a master's degree in education, and a bachelor's in theater and performing arts," Ms. Castile continued. "I've been in too many performances to count, and have directed almost as many." She stepped across the stage. "What I expect out of you, this year, is to grow in some way. Whether that be more educated about how theater works, or start your path towards breaking out as the next big Hollywood actor. It is completely up to you." She walked back to center stage and paused. "However, you will be graded on the effort you put forth in this class. You will have to perform solo and in groups."

"Please let us pick our own groups," Amber said.

Ms. Castile continued her lecture on stage. "In groups you will write and perform your own play this semester. Next semester you will write a play for another group to perform. As we become more comfortable with our fellow thespians." She held up her hand. "These will both be monitored by me. Don't expect to be forcing someone to do something they are uncomfortable with on stage." She began to walk across the stage again. "For these two plays you may have to be in costume. Again, at my discretion. Gentleman, get used to the idea of wearing a suit and tie. You might have a role that calls for it." She walked across the stage the other way. "Ladies, get used to the idea of wearing a dress with heels. You might have to do so. I would suggest practicing at home if you don't know how to walk in either. We don't want you falling flat on stage."

"I had no idea we'd get into actual play acting," Jillian said. "That actually sounds like fun."

"I agree," Tiffany said.

Ms. Castile stopped in the middle of the stage once more. "We will start next week with exploring the history of theater. Then move on to reading, and possibly performing scenes from plays. From there we will move on to monologues, and then group projects."

After another five minutes of explaining what we would be looking forward to, Ms. Castile had a few students pass out syllabuses. Jillian had been feverishly trying to scribble everything down in a notebook. I started to wonder if I should've been taking notes as well. Hopefully everything would be in the syllabus. Tiffany leaned over to me as Ms. Castile finished her lecture.

"This is gonna be a crazy year," Tiffany said. "I'm not so sure I'm ready for it."

"I think you'll do better than me," I said. "At least you have some stage presence. You had to perform ballet in front of people."

"True," Tiffany said. "But I never had to talk while doing it."

The bell rang at that time, and the students scrambled for the doors. Amber jumped from her seat once more, and stepped over in front of me.

"I hope I'm in a group with you all," Amber said. "You all seem pretty cool." She bumped my knee gently with her leg. "I'll see you bright and early, Monday morning, Bailey."

"Sure," I said. "Unless you want to hang out on Saturday?"

Amber tilted her head. "Really?"

I had no idea why I had said that, as I had no idea what my plans were going to be. "I mean if you're not busy…" I said, hoping she'd take it as a maybe.

"No," Amber said, a rush of excitement coursing through her voice. "I mean… I'll have to see. But yeah. That'd be totally awesome."

"Just let me know," I said. "Or stop by."

"Sure, sure," Amber said. "I gotta jet though. Bus won't wait forever."

"Later," I said.

Jillian and Tiffany both waved her off.

"I should go call my mother," I said, rising from my seat.

"We'll wait here," Jillian said.

I reached the aisle just as Vince approached. He nodded to me. "Bailey."

"Vince," I said, brushing past him to head to the pay phones.

As I walked away I could hear Vince tell Tiffany that he couldn't stay long. In my mind I thought that was the best news of the day. I kind of wished he would've gone away entirely. Unfortunately, he ended up in the one class that could've been potentially fun. It was like Vince was there to ruin good times. I'd already given him the benefit of the doubt once. So it would be a long road for him to gain my trust again.

"Bailey…"

I turned to face Ms. Castile. Apparently she had chased me down. "Yes, Miss Castile?"

"I don't want to be presumptuous here," Ms. Castile said. "But about what you said on stage before…" She looked over me with concern in her eyes. "Is everything okay at home?" she asked with a lowered voice.

"Oh," I said, giving her a knowing smile. "It's fine."

"Because you can talk to me," Ms. Castile said.

"My stepfather no longer lives with us," I said.

Ms. Castile nodded. "So everything is resolved?"

"Yes," I said. "But I appreciate your concern."

"Any time," Ms. Castile said. "And again… if you need to talk, don't be afraid to approach me. Okay?"

"I will," I said. "I mean… If I need to talk." I shifted uncomfortably. "Thank you Miss Castile."

"You have a nice weekend, Miss Bailey."

"Thanks," I said. "You too." I quickly departed for the phones before anyone else could track me down.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

CAUTION: Spoilers ahead! If you have not read The Summer of Bailey, and its follow-up series Seasons of Bailey, I highly advise that you do so before reading this.

CAUTION: Mature, and sensitive subject matter is contained within this story.

Part 3

"He's a good driver," I said, pulling myself further into the small payphone cubicle. "I know… But I really didn't want to ride the bus."

I turned around to see what had caused all of the commotion in the lobby of the auditorium. Several girls were walking into the cafeteria side of the building. Most of them were dressed in leggings, or yoga pants. The majority of them had on tank tops over sports bras. However, all of them had on dance shoes, which caused me to assume they were all on the dance drill team.

"Yes," I said, pulling the phone back up to my ear. "I'm listening." A sigh escaped my lips. "I don't know if I'm spending the night. I don't think I am."

I turned around to see Tawny waiting quietly behind me. Seeing her in her cheerleader uniform still made me wonder what in the world happened to her. Tawny had never been interested in cheerleading. Gymnastics and ballet aside, she had never really shown any interest in other athletics at all; let alone cheering for one. She motioned for me to hand the phone off to her. I shook my head at her, but she insisted.

"Hi," Tawny said, wrestling the phone away. "Miss Taylor?" A slight pause came as Tawny held up her index finger toward me. "This is Tawny Simmons." Tawny smiled. "Yes, the girl that Bailey went to the ballet with." Tawny turned away from me. "I'm good. I was wondering if Bailey could stay the night at my house after the game?"

I reached out and tapped Tawny on the shoulder. She shimmied away from me as I tried to grab for the phone. Then she gave me a scolding look and shook her head. I simply held my hand out, waiting for her to hand the phone back over.

"Yes," Tawny said. "My parents will be home." She put her hand on my shoulder and pushed me away. "We're all going to the game together." She put her hand over the receiver and mouthed for me to stop. "Just the girls… Uh huh… Yeah, she's fine." Tawny smiled at me. "Thanks, Miss Taylor. Is it okay if my sister drives her home in the morning?" Tawny turned away from me. "She's out of school." A long pause filled the air for what seemed like forever. "Thanks again, Miss Taylor," Tawny finally said. "She'll be home early, and I'll have her call after the game." With that, Tawny dropped the phone back into the cradle, and turned around to face me.

"Seriously?" I asked.

Tawny looked surprised. "What?"

"I was getting the lecture of a lifetime," I said. "Then you just got her to do a complete one-eighty."

Tawny shrugged. "People like other peoples' kids. Especially when they're polite."

"You continue to amaze me, Tawny Simmons."

Tawny tilted her head to the side and smiled. "Thanks."

"I need to go to the girls' room," I said.

As I turned around, I saw Vince walking toward the door. He seemed visibly upset, and shook his head at my remark. After stopping to look me over, he shoved the door open and walked outside. Apparently his conversation with Tiffany did not go as he had hoped. I felt Tawny slip her arm around mine. Then she tugged me away.

"I need to go too," she said.

It still felt weird to use public women's restrooms, especially at school. Little things like that hadn't necessarily worried me before transitioning. However, that little thing happened to be a rather huge thing, according to the school board. It was one of the major issues that came up while my mother and I were meeting with them. They ultimately decided that since I had no prior incidents in my previous school, that I could continue to use the women's restrooms; as long as there were no incidents to come.

We spent hours in that meeting with school board members. Several of the principals and vice principals were invited to sit in, along with a few other faculty members. Luckily I had sat through a meeting like this a year earlier, so I knew the drill. My mother, on the other hand, had quite a few contentious moments. One of them happened to be the fact that I had to seek an alternative to gym class; most likely after school intramurals. Apparently bathrooms were okay, but the school board drew the line at me being in a locker room with other girls. Something that had not been an issue last year, as I was allowed to change in the nearby nurse's office.

After washing my hands, I reapplied my pink lip gloss. I stood for a moment, staring in the mirror. While waiting for Tawny to finish, I started contemplating again on if I could make it through the year. I always had the options of going back to Nebraska, home-schooling, or dropping out. Although, the last two were not really options my mother would allow. She'd probably go ballistic if I dropped out of school. Tawny finally finished, and joined me at the sink.

"How was your first day?" she asked.

I glanced at her reflection in the mirror. "Probably should've looked at this hairdo earlier," I said, reaching up to lightly tug at a pigtail.

Tawny smiled. "Meh… She messed up your hair the second she touched it," she said. "I can fix it at Tiff's house if you want?"

"Oh, you're going over there too?"

"Yeah," Tawny said, flicking water from her hands into the sink. "It's closer to walk back from there for the game."

"I still can't believe she talked me in to watching football."

"So don't watch football," Tawny said, as she grabbed some paper towels. "Watch me."

"Watch you?" I asked, looking her over. "Wouldn't that be a little creepy?"

Tawny's brow furrowed. "Not as creepy as all of the dads doing it," she said. "At least with you, I'll know you're not perving over me."

"Oh, and you're so sure of that?" I asked, smiling.

Tawny let out a slight giggle. "Okay…" she said. "At least you'll be the one person I won't mind perving over me."

"I should get back," I said, shifting uncomfortably. "Don't wanna keep Tiffany waiting."

"I'll be out in a minute," Tawny said.

She pulled out a small makeup kit from her book bag. I noticed about half of the freshman girls were already wearing makeup. Last year, my cousin made sure that I knew how to apply makeup for a variety of reasons. So I had become well-versed in the application of it. However, my aunt insisted that neither of us needed to wear it to school yet, and we mostly saved it for special occasions. Even now, my mother agreed and kept telling me it wasn't necessary to wear fulltime. Not that I minded much, as it was one less thing to do in the morning.

I was greeted by Jillian's voice as I exited the restroom. "Found her!"

"There you are!" Tiffany said, coming around a corner. "What did your mom say?"

"She said it was okay," I said.

"Great!" Tiffany said, grabbing my hands. We stood and did a little celebratory motion.

"Hey Dylan," Jillian said. "You remember Bailey?"

Dylan walked over from the cafeteria. Apparently he had been ogling the drill team, while they stretched, through the windows in the lobby. He really hadn't changed that much, although he seemed slightly taller. Dylan still kept his curly black hair short. He wore a mix of preppy and casual apparel; khaki cargo pants mixed with a faded Pearl Jam t-shirt. His pale brown eyes studied me for a few moments.

"Yeah," he finally said. "She modeled in the window with me one time." He stopped walking about ten feet from me. "I thought you were going to come back. Casey really liked you."

"I've been --"

"She's been busy," Jillian interjected.

"Wait!" Dylan said. "Didn't you say you were going to Prescott?"

I shifted nervously. "I did?"

"Yeah," Dylan said. "At the fall festival. You said you would be going to Prescott."

"I… must've been mistaken," I said, shrugging slightly. "But I can't believe you remembered that."

"Well that's good," Dylan said. "Prescott sucks!"

"We should get going," Jillian said, grabbing her cousin's shirt sleeve. "We don't want to be late for our slave labor at 'Tweens."

"Hey," Dylan said, while being dragged away. "If you ever need a ride home, just let us know."

"Thanks," I said. "I might just do that."

"Cool!" Dylan said, while turning to take another glance at the drill team.

Jillian looked back at me shaking her head at her cousin. Then she waved goodbye. I returned the wave, watching the two of them scramble through the door. Dylan actually needed to be pulled from the building. I felt a tug on my own shirt sleeve, and turned to see Tiffany holding my book bag up for me. She smiled as I took it from her, and our hands touched ever so slightly.

"All set?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Come on, you two," Tawny said. "We have a lot to talk about."

I followed Tawny and Tiffany out of the other side of the lobby. The late August heat hit hard. For the first time that day, I wished I had not worn jeans. The sun was even worse, and had me scrambling in my book bag for sunglasses. Luckily I had tossed them in this morning.

"Wow," Tawny said, putting her hand over her eyes. "I don't suppose you have an extra pair?"

"No," I said. "Sorry."

"You'll get used to it," Tiffany said, as she began to walk away from the building. "It was pretty dark in there."

I watched her walk for a moment; glad that nobody could see where my eyes were aimed. It felt strange. I stared at Tiffany's butt, yet I felt nothing. Like the appeal was there, but I had no desire to chase it. I shrugged my bag back onto my shoulders, and took off after her. Tawny walked closely beside me. She had nothing to hide her eyes, but she was looking at me.

"So I don't want to start blabbing about this until we're at a safe distance," Tawny began.

"Then don't," Tiffany said. "Wait until we clear the parking lot."

"I just have so many questions," Tawny said.

Tiffany turned her head over her shoulder. "And we have plenty of time."

"Well I have a few questions," I said.

Tawny bumped me with her elbow. "Shoot."

"How was eighth grade?"

"Long," Tiffany said.

"Boring," Tawny chimed in.

Tiffany turned to walk sideways so she could see me. "And spent at least half of it wondering where you went."

"Sorry," I said.

"We don't blame you," Tawny said. "We just missed you."

"I missed you both," I said. "I missed everybody."

"Was it bad?" Tiffany asked. "The situation, I mean."

"Not entirely," I said. "I mean… it'll sound extremely bad when I tell you. But I was pretty sheltered from the aftermath."

"All we know is that Tom got arrested," Tiffany said, as we crossed out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk. "That's all Kate really got out of Justin."

"Yeah… Justin apparently didn't say much about it to anyone," I said. "Tom is actually in prison right now."

"Wow," Tawny said. "Really?"

Tiffany slowed down to walk on my other side. "What did he do?"

"Well," I said. "What he's in prison for, has nothing to do with what was done to me. At least not much to do. That's what he claims at least."

I glanced back and forth at both girls. They seemed to be rather speechless at the moment. I turned my focus instead to the bright August day. It had to be nearing 80 degrees by then, and walking under the shade of the tall oak trees barely did any good.

"Bailey," Tiffany said quietly. "If you don't want to talk about it…"

"No, it's okay," I said. "I just would like it to be somewhere a little more private."

"That bad?" Tawny asked.

I nodded. "Kinda private too."

"Well," Tawny said. "Okay then. We'll catch you up to speed with what's been going on here."

"Yeah," Tiffany said, a little less sorrowful. "So Danielle went total bitch mode on all of us. Even Rachel. They had a fight in the middle of the cafeteria one day, pulling each others' hair and everything. Now they got like a total rivalry thing going on."

I glanced at Tiffany. "Wow! Those two were so close."

"Danielle was convinced we sabotaged her hooking up with some guy," Tawny said. "Well… mostly blamed Rachel."

"Really?!" I asked, turning my head the other way.

"Yeah," Tawny said. "Truth is, none of us even knew who the guy was."

"We think she was making him up," Tiffany added. "Either she didn't want to be friends with any of us anymore, or she just went crazy."

"So after that, Rachel and I started hanging out," Tawny said. "Guess you could say we were both done with crazy relationships."

"Is that how you got suckered into the world of cheerleading?" I asked, flashing her a smile.

Tawny looked at me as though I'd wounded her deeply.

"I'm sorry," I said, dropping my smile.

"No," she said. "It's okay." Tawny gestured at her uniform. "You must think I had a total image crisis, or something."

"I wouldn't say…"

"It's kind of true," Tawny said. "But I didn't get suckered into it. It actually goes back to something you said." She smoothed out her tartan skirt. "Actually a few things you said."

"Me?"

"Yeah," Tawny said. "You said a while back that I look cute in skirts."

"When was this?" Tiffany asked, a little surprised.

"It doesn't matter," Tawny said. "Bailey was always complimenting me when…" She shrugged her book bag up onto her shoulders more. "When I dressed more feminine." She turned to look at me. "You have no idea what that meant to me. Most of my life I've had the body of a gymnast, and always felt self-conscious about wearing dresses. I always felt bulky, or too muscular." Her lips turned up into a sad smile. "When you said those things… I just really… It meant a lot."

"Well you still look cute in a skirt," I said, smiling at her. "And you have a great body."

Tawny's face deepened into a feverish blush, and she lowered her head. After a few steps she bumped against me. I playfully bumped her back.

"You said some things that changed me too," Tiffany said.

Tawny and I both looked to Tiffany.

"I did?"

"Remember when I was confused about…" Tiffany let out a long sigh, and looked around at the trees. "Back when I didn't know if I liked girls or boys. Or thought I was a lesbian."

"Your parents weren't too happy about that," I said.

"Yeah…" Tiffany kicked at a stick in the middle of the sidewalk. "Well you were there for me, more than anyone in that stupid support group," she said. "Even when we 'broke up.'" She held her hands up to perform air quotes. "Even with the whole thing with Vince."

I lightly groaned at the mention of his name.

"I hope you're still not mad at him," Tiffany said. "He was just as confused as I was at the time. Honestly, I think he still is."

"I'm not mad," I said. "I just don't really care to be around him."

"Me neither," Tiffany said. "But he's not a terrible guy."

"Quit beating around the bush," Tawny said.

Tiffany sighed. "I wasn't…"

"She still can't say it," Tawny said, drawing my attention for a second.

"Say what?" I asked, looking back over at Tiffany.

"She's into guys," Tawny said.

Tiffany sighed more heavily. "I was going to put it a little more delicately than that, Tawny."

"Why was that so hard to say?" I asked.

Tiffany looked at me in silence.

"Oh," I said. "So you don't like girls anymore?"

"Well… I mean…" Tiffany looked down, and then back up at me. Then she shrugged. "Not really. No."

"Oh…" I said, looking out at the sidewalk in front of us. "So like, me for instance…"

"I mean, you're a great friend," Tiffany said. "I don't want you to think otherwise. But I see you as a girl now. I kind of did before you left. I'm sorry."

"No," I said. "I get it. I'm more girl now than when I left too." I gave a slight half chuckle. "I was actually worried where we stood after all this time."

"Best of friends," Tiffany said, offering a warm smile. "Hopefully?"

"Always," I said, returning her smile.

"I kinda like guys too now," Tawny blurted out.

I turned to face her. "You too!?"

"Well," Tawny said, shrugging. "Not completely. I'm kind of… I don't know." She looked at me. "It's not like I have a boyfriend." She shrugged again. "If the right girl came along, I'd maybe be into that. I don't know. Maybe I'm just undecided, but I find some guys attractive now."

We all walked in silence for a moment. A slight breeze picked up, although it was a warm one. The sound of three pairs of sneakers hitting the pavement, mingled with the occasional rustle of leaves. It seemed the whole "catching up" conversation had taken a nosedive. I glanced back and forth between them, and suddenly stopped walking. They both stopped several steps after and turned to face me.

"Are you okay?" Tiffany asked, quietly.

"I have… a sort of confession," I said, my head lowered. "While I was away…" I took a deep breath, then raised my head to look at them. "While I was away, I met a boy. Well, we kind of hit it off, and he was fun to hang out with." My head tilted to the side. "We kissed a few times, and it was kind of nice. He made me feel special."

Tiffany nodded, knowingly. "That's kind of how I felt!" Her eyes got larger all of a sudden. "I mean…" Her chest rose sharply as she took a deep breath. "I kind of had a boyfriend while you were away." Her lips dropped to a frown. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I said. "I was gone for a year, and we did leave things open…"

"Well I think you are special," Tawny said, jumping back into the conversation. She smiled, as she took my wrist in her hand. "You don't need a guy to make you feel that way."

Tiffany took my other wrist, and together they pulled me up even with them. "Don't worry," Tiffany said, as we began to walk again. "People change."

"We're totally on your side," Tawny said. "It doesn't matter if you like boys, girls, or nothing at all."

"Agreed," Tiffany said. "We're here for you."

"But you definitely need to give us details," Tawny said, as she bumped me again.

"Maybe," I said, grinning. "But only if you let me try on that uniform some time."

Tawny and Tiffany both giggled.

"Well you definitely have the hair for it," Tawny said. "Maybe for Halloween?"

Tiffany gently slapped my shoulder with her free hand. "That actually gave me a great idea," she said. "I have something you can borrow for school next week."

After passing a few more houses, we finally arrived in front of Tiffany's house. Their split-level ranch house had gone through at least one paint job. Although it still retained its tan color, with dark brown trim, it all looked fresh. The crimson door was still the only thing that added color. I paused for a moment after seeing Kate's red Honda Accord in the driveway.

"Kate still lives at home?" I asked.

Tiffany tugged me toward the front door. "Yeah," she said. "She decided to stay home and go to community college."

"Justin did the same thing," I said. "Well… except that he never enrolled in college."

"I'm surprised he didn't get a free ride," Tiffany said, as she ushered me up the front steps. "What with leading the football team to a championship and all."

"He got a lot of offers," I said. "But he said he was tired of playing"

"I'll just pretend I know what you two are talking about," Tawny said from behind us.

I turned to look at her over my shoulder. "My brother," I said.

"Yeah," Tawny said. "I gathered that. I just don't know him."

"Oh, that's right," I said. "You've never met him."

We all stopped on the front stoop. The overhang on the roof provided a little respite from the pesky summer sun. Thankfully, August would be over soon, and the cooler temperatures of September would settle in. Tiffany pushed the doorbell repeatedly. I could hear the faint chimes sounding inside. Suddenly the door whisked open; a rather perturbed Kate stood on the other side; her damp black hair shining.

"Where's your key?" she asked, from behind the glass storm door.

Tiffany pulled the storm door open. "It's in my bag," she said. "I didn't feel like looking for it."

Kate shook her head. "You're such a brat!"

The three of us entered the house as Kate stormed off into the other room. She yelled about being in the middle of something, although became incoherent about halfway through what she was saying. Tiffany closed the door behind us. An audible groan came from the other room. Kate stormed back through, passing us by once more. In her hand she clenched a hairdryer; the cord dragging behind her.

"Why can't anything in this freakin' house ever work?" Kate asked no one in particular.

"Do you have a date, or something?" Tiffany called after her.

Kate stomped back into the room. She stopped and looked at us. I'd never seen her so angry. "Why are you dorks just standing there?" she asked.

"Kate," Tiffany said, calmly. "Do you remember Bailey?" She gestured toward me.

Kate gave one of those do-I-care shrugs. Gradually the death stare loosened its grip on her face. Then her eyes popped open in astonishment. "No freakin' way!" she exclaimed, walking toward me. "Girly girl!?"

I gave a slight grimace as she approached. All I could do was nod silently.

"No freakin' way," Kate said again. "It is you."

I swear she pushed Tiffany and Tawny out of the way, as she threw her arms around me. Like earlier in the day, with Amber, I stood awkwardly with my hands out to the sides. Subconsciously I probably couldn't think of a decent place to put them, but it didn't help that Kate had wrapped herself around my entire body. Kate continued to squeeze the life out of me. Her perky breasts jutted against mine. It felt like I was teetering with my toes on a balance beam as she rocked me side to side.

"Wow!" Kate exclaimed, finally releasing me and stepping back. She grabbed my elbows, causing me to grab hers in return; if only for support. Her eyes studied me for a minute. "I can't believe you're still cross dressing," she said, with a smile. "And you're getting pretty damn good at it."

"I'm…" I looked into her eyes. "I'm actually transitioning."

Kate's expression changed to one of sheer confusion. "Huh?"

I stood for a moment in silence, hoping she would get it eventually. After her expression never rescinded, I knew I would have to explain. "I'm transgender," I said, still not getting a response.

"Bailey is changing from a boy into a girl," Tiffany said.

"Shut up," Kate said, more toward her sister. "No. I get that. I know what she meant." She continued to look at me. "So you're a girl all the time now?"

I nodded, cringing as I waited for whatever happened next.

Kate shook my arms. "That's…" Suddenly she pulled me back in for another hug. "That's so awesome. I'm so happy for you." After a moment longer she let me go. "How did…" Her eyes searched mine. "Wait here," she finally said, and then turned to run off. "I want to hear everything!" she called as she moved down the hallway.

"Didn't you have plans?" Tiffany shouted after her.

"No," Kate yelled back. She came back down the hallway, carrying her brush. "I was just trying to dry my hair."

"The hairdryer is broken again?" Tiffany asked, as she walked into the living room.

"Come in," Kate said, beckoning toward me.

I noticed I hadn't moved from the entryway. As I turned to face Tawny, she looked as though a bomb had gone off in her head. Her eyes seemed totally unresponsive as she stared at my face. My hand reached out, giving her a few sharp tugs on her skirt. I smiled as her head shook a few times. Then she followed me into the living room.

"I was about to throw a potato in the oven," Kate said. "You all want one?"

"Sure," Tiffany said, dropping her bag by the couch. She moaned loudly. "It feels so good to take that off."

I looked at Kate. After a year of not seeing her, all of my feelings for her returned. I suddenly realized why I had a crush on her to begin with. She still had the most amazingly fit body I had ever seen. It had been amplified by her tight t-shirt and old school track shorts. Her face looked flawless, even after a shower and wearing no makeup. My heart fluttered as we stared at each other.

"I'll take one. I guess," I managed to squeak out.

"Your voice hasn't even changed at all," Kate said, still looking at me with wonder in her eyes. "Amazing, girly girl!" She turned to look at Tawny. "You want one?"

Tawny still couldn't speak; a rather strange occurrence for her. She simply nodded.

Kate shrugged, and turned toward the kitchen. Meanwhile, we had joined Tiffany in the living room. She had already collapsed onto the sofa. In a matter of seconds she was kicking off her black Converse all stars. I casually slipped my book bag off, as I looked for a suitable place to sit. That's when Tiffany reached up and took hold of me; yanking me down onto the sofa with her.

We both landed in a heap. I practically ended up sitting across her lap, though my butt had become wedged between her and the arm of the sofa. The backs of my knees rested over her thighs, while my back rested against the fluffy arm. Tiffany sat somewhat sideways next to me. Her arms snaked gently around my waist in a friendly embrace.

"Tawny…" I said, watching her mindlessly sit in a chair opposite us. "You okay?"

"I…" Tawny let her bag drop beside the chair. "I never…" Her legs crossed in front of her, and she slumped back into the chair. "When you said transitioning and transgender… I guess I just finally realized the seriousness of the situation."

"Does that upset you?" I asked.

"Not at all," Tawny said, as she shook her head for emphasis. "It just kind of hits you." She gave me the most sincere face she could muster under those pigtails. "It kind of takes it miles away from a boy slipping on a dress."

Tiffany looked at Tawny thoughtfully. If I didn't know any better, I would say it suddenly began to dawn on her as well. They both started to get the idea that it was no longer a game of pretend for me. It wasn't like before, when I would slip into a swimsuit to attend a pool party, or throw on a dress for a birthday party. That childhood confusion had disappeared. I had been living it, day in and day out, for the past year now. It had become a very arduous reality for me; learning how to live as a young girl.

Kate eventually joined us. Her hair had become a slight tangled mess. She walked in carrying four bottles of some cherry fruit water. I studied the bottle after taking it. Never before had I seen anything like it. I didn't even recognize the name brand. Had I been away that long? Kate stood over me, watching me for a few seconds.

"Is that okay?" she asked, with a little trepidation in her voice. "To drink that is."

I looked up at her confused. "I… it's fine," I stuttered.

Kate looked at me with a bit of concern. "It's not going to react with any medication, is it?"

"It should be fine. I mean, unless it's testosterone," I said, chuckling. I looked around the room, and all three of them seemed uneasy. "Guys," I finally said. "Relax. I'm not dying. I can eat normal food."

"Sorry," Kate said, stepping over to a chair. "I just don't know anything about this. I mean, I know what transgender means, but after that I'm sort of at a loss."

"I'm still the same person," I said.

Kate sat down in her chair gracefully. "I get that," she said. "I just…" She stopped and looked at me for a moment. "Why don't we start over?" She asked, eventually. Then she pulled her legs up to sit Indian style in the chair.

"Well where would you like to start?" I asked. "I don't wanna just start blabbing about everything."

"Well I don't want this to be like a therapy session," Kate said.

I raised my eyebrows at her remark.

"Oh jeez," Kate said. "That was wrong to say. I'm sorry. You probably have to deal with that too."

"It's okay," I said.

"Are you comfortable?" Tiffany asked, resting her head on my shoulder.

I turned to focus on her. "I'm good," I said, reaching down to pat her arm.

Tawny looked at us for a moment. Then she pushed up from her chair and came over and joined us on the sofa. Lifting my lower legs up, she slid in underneath. As my calves came back down to rest on her thighs, she started to slip my sneakers off. She turned slightly toward me, and rested her hands on my legs.

"Oh, what the hell…" Kate said. "Girl talk mode it is." She jumped out of her chair, and pulled it over closer to the sofa. Then jumped back into it to sit in the same fashion as before. She poked my shoulder gently. "Just let us know if it gets too personal," she said. "We don't wanna push you."

"Exactly," Tawny said, quietly.

That was the first word from Tawny in over five minutes. I couldn't tell if she was uncomfortable, or if she had hit some deep contemplative state of mind. She hardly ever got this quiet. Maybe her realization hit her harder than expected. It kind of worried me that she wasn't saying much. It just wasn't like her.

"So…" Tiffany said. "Why don't we start with the last night we saw you?"

"Yeah," Kate said, reaching over to pull a few strands of hair from my face. "What happened that night? Why were the police there?"

"There were actually a lot more than the police there that night," I said. "The FBI, the DEA, the police. Even an undercover detective."

"Whoa," Kate said. "Okay… Why don't you just blab? Because I can't even think of a question to follow up with that."

I laughed slightly at her remarks. Then I nodded at her. "So my stepfather, Tom, had apparently made it onto the FBI's watch list," I said. "For a long time he was a legit businessman, running his semi truck cleaning business during the day. Eventually he was approached by a man named Trevor James, who offered him a deal to clean trailers along with the trucks." I paused for a moment, looking at the confused expressions around the room. "Anyway, Tom agreed to keep the shop open at night to do this. That's why he was always running to the shop late at night to check things."

"So was the deal illegal?" Tiffany asked.

"Well cleaning the trailers wasn't illegal," I said. "But after a while James came to Tom with another deal. He wanted to use the trailers to smuggle pharmaceutical drugs out of the country."

"Oh shit," Kate said, quietly.

"Turns out that Tom was already being investigated for hiring illegals to work for him," I said. "And this new deal Tom made kind of just fell into the laps of the authorities." I took a sip of my cherry-flavored water, making a note of it being pretty good. "Anyway," I continued. "So that was the deal that got Tom in major trouble. They set up a sting operation and everything to bring him down, but he caught wind of it and tried to skip town. That's why the police were there that night."

"That's pretty insane," Tiffany said.

Kate shook her head next to me. "How could he be that stupid?" she asked, rhetorically. "He could've put his entire family in danger."

"I don't think he really cared about that," I said, taking another sip of water.

Tawny cleared her throat, as she tapped my knee. "Speaking of that," she said. "How did you get involved in all of this?"

"Well," I said. "You remember those doctors I told you about? Dinesh, and that creepy older one named Brooks?"

They all sort of nodded.

"Well it was mainly Brooks," I said. "But Dinesh was willfully and knowingly abetting him. I learned that later from the district attorney."

Kate gently shook my shoulder. "Go on."

"They were the ones supplying the drugs," I said. "Tom made a deal that he would help them move product, in exchange for them covering my medical expenses. Basically that left everything involving me off of the books. Which made it harder for the authorities to pin anything on them. At least until they got back lab results." I shifted a little in my seat. "Turns out I really didn't need treatment for much of anything."

"Wait," Kate said. "So the doctors lied about your condition to keep Tom doing their dirty work?"

I nodded silently.

"That's so fucked up," Kate said.

"Kate!" Tiffany said, lifting her head from my shoulder. "Language!"

Kate reached toward her mouth, as if in the process of covering it up. "Sorry," she said, quietly, as if her parents would storm into the room to punish her.

"So wait a minute," Tawny said, shaking my leg gently. "You said you didn't need any treatment. Then how did you…" She gestured at me. "You know… Change?"

"Well I didn't need treatment to start," I said. "I only had mildly low testosterone, from a condition known as hypogonadism." The three of them seemed to be lost at that point. "It's just something I was born with," I continued. "My doctor in Nebraska said I probably would've been fine, had they not messed with me. I just would've had a slower puberty."

"So they messed you up?" Tiffany asked.

My eyes trailed downward. "They really messed me up," I said. "Instead of simply faking my medication, they decided to experiment on me. Almost immediately they had me on something called Triptorelin." I glanced around at the confused faces. "Sorry… I'm used to discussing this with people who know what that medication is. Basically it halts, or prevents puberty from occurring."

"Shit…" Kate said, quietly.

"I hadn't started puberty yet, because of the other condition," I said. "So it pretty much stopped it dead. They continued to lie to Tom, and even my mother when she would take me to see Dinesh. They fabricated test results, and apparently were using me as a lab rat." I paused. "Dinesh later turned on Brooks and James. That's why he disappeared for awhile, because he was helping the FBI. So he worked out a plea bargain, and admitted that Brooks was actually the one prepping the medications I received."

"What all did they do to you?" Tawny asked, her voice sounded more curious than anything.

I looked into her bright green eyes. "They… uh…" I shifted uncomfortably. "This is the hard part for me."

"Don't feel that you have to tell us," Kate said.

"Yeah," Tiffany said. "Totally up to you."

"It's just…" I took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. "It's harder to talk about than it was to actually go through it." I looked over at Kate. "The night you dropped me off, I had an episode in front of the FBI agent."

Kate's brow furrowed. "An episode?"

"For the last few months of seventh grade," I said. "I'd been experience severe pain in my lower abdomen. It was so bad, that I kept blacking out, and I didn't realize what was happening until that last episode." I watched Kate's face contort into a grimace. "Apparently, Brooks had been giving me all kinds of things in his twisted drug cocktail. Estrogen. Testosterone blockers. Something called Cyproterone, which is used for chemical castration."

Kate's whole body slumped to the side. She immediately knew full well what I had said. It was like she felt the defeat as soon as I delivered it. Tiffany and Tawny looked at each other, and then to Kate. I felt bad for them all to be hearing this. Kate understood what I was saying, but the other two seemed to have no clue. When Tiffany spoke again, I suddenly lost the will to finish that part of the conversation.

"How bad is that?"

Kate patted my shoulder. She looked directly at her sister. Her breasts rose and fell, as I watched her release a heavy sigh. "You know when we took Scruffy in to get him fixed?" she asked.

"Yeah…" Tiffany stopped for a moment and seemed to be contemplating what her sister had said.

"It's the chemical version of that," Kate said.

"Oh jeez…" Tawny said, turning her head away.

"Oh…" Tiffany said. She then sat up and looked at me. "Oh!" Her lips quivered for a moment. "That's…"

"Yeah," Kate said, with a melancholy voice. "Totally fucked up." Then she looked at me solemnly. "Were they able to reverse it?"

I shook my head in silence. A long moment of silence filled the room after that. Kate sat in her chair, hunched over her bare legs. Tawny played little drum beats, with her fingers, on my shins. Meanwhile, Tiffany ran her hand up and down my arm; quietly consoling me. Eventually the silence became more uncomfortable than my story, and I got up the courage to press on with it.

"Once the pain started," I said, pausing to clear my throat. "Once it started, it was already too late." I looked back and forth between Kate and Tiffany. "Due to my body's reaction with some of the drugs, I developed a lump on one of my…" I took a shallow breath. "Well… down there…" After another longer breath, I decided to just spit it out. "They actually had to surgically remove them."

"That's horrible!" Tiffany said. Her hand squeezed my upper arm, as she buried her face into my shoulder.

"Yeah, that's terrible," Kate said. "I can't imagine going through something like that."

"So…" Tawny looked over Tiffany at me. "Not to sound insensitive here. Just trying to understand." She gave me an unsure look. "They had to… remove your testicles?"

I nodded toward her. "Along with most of the spermatic cords. It was preventative," I said. "They were worried that the lump was cancerous, and might possibly spread."

"So…" Tawny's voice quietly returned. "Do you still…" Tawny squirmed a little this time. "Again, just trying to understand…"

"You can ask," I said. "But I think I know the question."

Tawny seemed a little bashful all of a sudden. It added to the complexity of her nature that afternoon. "I don't know how to ask it without it sounding all…" She shrugged. "You know?"

"I still have a penis," I said, quietly.

Tawny nodded, while Kate shyly looked off toward the kitchen.

"Why would you want to know that?" Tiffany asked, lifting her head to look at Tawny.

"I'm just curious," Tawny said. "I just wanted to know if it was a full change, or like… partial."

I smiled warmly at her. "I don't mind. Really," I said. "And you were a lot more sensitive about it than my cousin."

"Speaking of your cousin," Tiffany said. "Is Tom the reason you went to your aunt's? Or was it because of the medical reasons?"

"Both, actually," I said. "My mother, as well as the authorities, thought it was best that I was removed from the situation. At least until they could move the case along." I took a quick sip of water. "My mother handed over temporary guardianship to my aunt, and I went to stay with her in Nebraska." I paused for a moment. "The other reason was my aunt is a nurse, and my mother thought I would get better care in her custody. Which, for the most part, was true, and somewhat less awkward."

I realized it was growing more and more awkward in the room at that time. The other three sat quietly, as if contemplating if they wanted to know more or not. This had actually been the first time I had shared my story outside of a therapy session. It still seemed unpolished, and lacked a certain quality of delivery. Although it could certainly bring a down a party in a pinch.

"So…" Tawny started to speak, but quickly changed her mind.

"What was Nebraska like?" Kate asked, finally breaking the silence.

"I liked it there," I said. "A little boring at times. My aunt lives out in the country, so it was a drive to get to anywhere. She doesn't have a farm herself, but most of our neighbors were farmers. So it was an interesting change, being out away from everything. Could actually see the stars at night."

"Did you have trouble making friends?" Tiffany asked, quietly.

"Yeah," I said. "I was kind of an outsider. Most of my friends were people my cousin, Kelly, already knew." I paused for a moment, before continuing. "We made up a cover story that I was staying there while my parents settled a divorce. Which was kind of true."

"Did anyone… know?" Tawny asked.

"About me?"

Tawny nodded.

"Only Kelly," I said. "We hardly talked about it too. She was really supportive when I started on hormones."

"What was that like?" Kate asked.

"Well…" I said, looking at the ceiling. "It was a pain just to even find a doctor that would work with me. My aunt knew some doctors, but they all shied away from the legal aspects of my stepfather's case." I sighed. "They didn't wanna be involved."

"That sucks," Kate said. "But you obviously got treatment."

"Yeah," I said. "It took most of the summer, but finally we found a therapist. And with her help we finally found a doctor that wasn't entirely reluctant to take my case. Then it just came down to fighting with insurance, but we eventually got it sorted out."

"I just have so many questions," Kate said. "But it's like I can't pick one."

"I have one," I said, sitting up slightly.

Kate looked at me perplexed. "What?"

"What happened with my brother?"

"Oh…" Kate lowered her eyes, and focused on her legs. "He wanted to see other people. I really didn't. So we called it off."

"Really?!" I asked. "I can't believe he did that to you!"

"It's not entirely his fault," Kate said. "I kind of made myself unavailable with school and everything."

"Still…" I said. "That's not cool."

"We're still friends," Kate said. "At least, I think we are. I haven't talked to him lately."

I pushed myself up, causing Tiffany to stir. "I'm going to give him a call," I said.

"No," Kate said, waving me off. "It's really not a big deal. I'm busy with school and work anyway."

"I'm kind of pissed at him now," I said.

Kate shook her head. "Don't be," she said. "Really… It's fine. I'm fine."

About that time the alarm sounded on the oven. Tawny perked up a little bit at the intrusive sound. "I'm hungry," she said. "Can we talk about Nebraska while we eat?"

"Sure," I said, trying to push myself off of the sofa. "If I can ever get up." I giggled slightly.

Kate stood from her chair, and offered me her hands. I took them in mine. With the help of the other girls pushing me off of them, and Kate lifting, I finally made it off of the sofa. Kate let me go, and hurried off to the kitchen. Tawny followed closely behind her. Meanwhile, Tiffany still sat there on the sofa; her face a mix of confusion and contemplation.

"Hey," I said, sitting back down where Kate had been. "I know that was a lot to process."

"I just don't get it," Tiffany said. "How could people be that cruel? I mean, you were… You still are…" She sighed. "You were a kid."

"I'm still a kid," I said.

Tiffany begrudgingly shook her head. "No," she said. "What you went through… You grew up quick."

I took Tiffany's hands in mine. "I lied a little," I said. "About it being harder to talk about." I took a deep breath. "That's actually the easy part. The hard part is hoping people will understand after I tell them. That's what goes through my head every time someone asks what happened to me." I sighed. "I want to tell them everything, but I'm afraid to. Like they might reject what I'm saying, or… reject me."

A few tears started trickling down Tiffany's face. "You went through so much," she said. "And yet you're worried about what others might think?" She pulled one of her hands away to wipe her tears. "Bailey… If anyone could sit and listen to what you just told us, and then turn you away… They don't deserve you."

Now I felt my own tears streaming down my cheeks. My heart felt like a sinking stone in a fast-moving river. Tiffany reached out toward me. She gently wiped away my tears with her thumb. With a warm smile, she studied my face. I started to speak, but my voice failed me.

"You're more beautiful than ever," Tiffany said. "You know that right?"

She pulled herself from the sofa. Then she pulled me from the chair. Slowly we met in the space in between. Her arms snaked around me. My arms snaked around her. For several minutes we stood there, entwined in a melancholy hug. Tears rolled from my eyes. Tiffany patted my back, and slowly rocked me from side to side. I buried my head against her neck, and let myself cry.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

Part 4

I don't think anything wore me out faster than my first day back at school. High school seemed more frantic than junior high ever dreamed of being. It didn't help that I went from having classes in one building, to having them spread out across several buildings on a college-like campus. As if that wasn't enough, I felt emotionally drained from telling my closest friends part of my medical history. Of course, I didn't tell them everything. Some of my new experiences were quite embarrassing to talk about.

After all of that, we hit the annual Henley High Black and Red Game, where we sat through player introductions, and a couple of hour-long scrimmages. It felt awkward with half of my friends knowing, and half of them not knowing. Tiffany and Tawny still had questions, and tried to sneak them in during the second scrimmage while Tracy and Jason were preoccupied. By the time we got back to Tawny's house, and showered, we were both wiped out. Tawny fell asleep while I was telling her about my aunt's house, and I joined her shortly after.

A few hours later I pushed myself to sit up in Tawny's bed. It took me a moment to recall that I had spent the night at her place. As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I could hear her rustling about in her room. My hands lowered from my eyes. Tawny was fully awake. She was in the process of pulling together my belongings.

"Sorry I crashed on you last night," she said, after seeing me stir. "First day back at school," Tawny continued, "and then the game after…"

"It's fine," I said. "It didn't take me long to join you."

Tawny paused to look me over. "I probably could've slept another two hours."

"Then why don't you?" I asked, patting the bed next to me. I glanced at the clock. "It's only six thirty."

"I wish I could," Tawny said. "But Lynne's gotta drop you off before work." She gave me a half smile as she tossed my jeans onto the bed next to me. "So I was about to wake you up anyway."

"Are you running me out of here?" I asked, letting out a yawn.

"Well," Tawny's smile dropped. "I'd be lying if I said no, but you know Lynne."

I did, indeed, know Lynne. She was Tawny's rather obstinate older sister. It was hard to argue with her, especially if she had places to be at the moment. I assumed there were reasons why Tawny's parents couldn't take me home. My only other option was calling my mother to come get me. I figured it would be a bad idea to drag my feet, so I forced myself awake as much as possible.

"Too bad you can't come over and hang out," I said, pulling the covers off of me.

"Well… I can," Tawny said. She paused to look at me. "That is, if you're inviting me."

I smiled at Tawny. "My mom did say she wanted me to come home, but she didn't say anything about bringing someone home with me."

"I don't know…" Tawny cocked her head to the side. "You're not pushing your luck with her, are you?"

"To be honest," I said, "I could use the buffer. She's been a tad overprotective since I came home. And she's always hovering."

Tawny rested against her dresser. "I'd have to say, I would be too," she said. "Especially after what you went through."

"I guess so," I said, stretching a bit.

"We could always hang out next Friday," Tawny said, moving over to her closet.

"Don't you have to cheer for the game?" I asked, standing from the bed.

"Nah," Tawny said. "I'm not on the varsity squad, so I only have to cheer at the freshmen games. And only home games. Last night was kind of a one time thing for the year." She spun around to face me. "Unless you want to go to the game?"

"Not really," I said, slipping off my borrowed pajama bottoms. "Just come over today."

Tawny seemed startled at first that I was undressing in front of her. I never actually gave it a second thought, until I saw her shift uncomfortably. Back in Nebraska, I'd grown accustomed to changing in front of other girls. Of course, I never got completely nude, and nobody but my cousin knew I'd been a boy. Tawny's reaction gave me sudden pause, however, and I suddenly felt embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," I said, quickly reaching for my jeans. "I should've warned you…"

"No," Tawny said. "It's fine. I just… I don't know." She turned to the side. "It just made me think about the last time I saw you." She pulled out a pair of loose-fitting jeans from her closet. "I mean, I've seen you with less on…"

"Still… I should've said something." I finished pulling on my jeans, and fastened them. "Are you sure you're okay?" I asked.

"It just reminded me of that day," Tawny said, stepping over to me. "But after what you told us yesterday… Well, it all makes sense now."

"What does?"

"Why you were growing breasts," Tawny said, stepping closer. "Why you couldn't fit into your jeans."

"Oh…" I said, taking a seat again to pull my socks on. "I'm surprised you remember that."

"Well I actually remembered it for another reason," Tawny said. She hurried over to her closet again. "I remember you were so upset and angry that day. I felt so bad having to leave too." After pulling her closet door open, she began to dig around inside. "Really, I didn't know it had anything to do with what you were going through. At least not until today." Eventually Tawny yanked a plastic shopping bag out of her closet. "I was kind of an idiot, and thought it was something else."

"What's that?" I asked, as Tawny brought the bag over.

"Well after I got home that day," Tawny said, "I started a little project." She pulled what appeared to be a denim messenger bag from the plastic bag. "I tried not to go overboard with it," she said, "but I wanted it to be kind of girly. You know… incase you took it anywhere."

As Tawny turned the denim bag in her hand, my eyes caught the glimmer of pink rhinestones. They bordered the flap of the bag, but were done sparingly enough to look tasteful. Tawny continued to turn the bag. While my eyes were drawn to the pink rhinestones at first, they were suddenly torn away to the middle of the flap. There, centered amongst the pink border, sat an old familiar image.

A little pink butterfly danced toward the sky. While a trail of pink glittered beneath it. Tawny had lovingly removed the bejeweled image from my favorite pair of jeans. Then she had carefully sewn it onto the flap of this bag. I jumped to my feet instantly. My arms flew around Tawny. A squeal of delight coursed through the room, as I swayed back and forth with Tawny in my arms.

"Tawny, that's amazing!" I said, pulling back to look at the bag. "How long did that take you?"

Tawny shrugged. "I don't know," she said. Though I could tell it was a lie.

"Wow," I said, taking the bag in my hand. "I can't believe you did this for me."

"I thought you were really upset about not being able to wear the butterfly jeans," Tawny admitted. "Kind of stupid of me, but I thought if I put it on something you couldn't outgrow…"

"No," I said, turning the bag in my hands. "It wasn't stupid at all." I flung my arms back around Tawny and hugged her tightly. "Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome," Tawny said, letting out a nervous laugh. "I'm glad you like it."

"I love it!" I said, planting a kiss on her cheek. "I might replace my school bag with it."

"Yeah," Tawny said, cautiously reaching toward the cheek I kissed. "I think it'll look… cute."

"I… just…" I smiled at Tawny. "Thank you."

Tawny returned the smile, and nodded thoughtfully.

"You have to come over now!" I exclaimed. "Come on! It'll be fun!"

Tawny shrugged; her smile still beaming. "I guess I'll get dressed then," she finally said. She walked to the dresser to grab some socks.

"Do you want me to leave the room?"

Tawny turned to face me; the smile still on her face. "Don't be silly," she said. As if to emphasize the sentiment, she slipped out of the cheer shorts she had slept in, and crossed the room in nothing but panties and a tank top. "You just caught me off guard a little," she said, as she pulled on her jeans. "You can dress, or undress, in front of me any time."

A nervous laugh escaped my lips.

Tawny quickly looked over at me. "That did not come out right at all."

"No," I said. "I mean… I get what you meant."

Tawny lowered her head, pretending to fixate on her socks and shoes. "I uh… hung your shirt on the door," Tawny said, her voice meek and slightly trembling. "Your bra too."

I decided it wouldn't be a good idea to push this any further. The whole situation felt a little out of sorts. While what Tawny had said seemed harmless to me, I could tell it struck a different chord with her. I moved to the door and collected my bra. Keeping my back to her, I slipped off the top she had lent me for the night. Then I quickly put on my bra and fastened it.

For some reason I turned my head back over my shoulder to look at her. Tawny shyly glanced at me, with the corner of her eye, as she crossed her room. She pulled a bra from her dresser, and stole another glance. Awkward silence filled the room, as I feigned interest with putting my shirt back on. When I turned around, I could see Tawny finishing her own dressing ritual.

"I'm a little curious…" Tawny started to say, pulling her t-shirt down.

A knock at her door startled me. "Hope you two bitches are awake," Lynne said loudly, from the other side. "I'm leaving in ten minutes."

"Stop calling other girls bitches," Tawny's mother quietly said from somewhere down the hallway.

"What were you going to say?" I asked.

Tawny shook her head. "It's nothing."

I nodded silently, not wanting to push her. "Thanks again for the clothes," I said, trying to return the conversation to a halfway normal juncture.

"No problem," Tawny said, as she opened her dresser drawer. "I don't wear pajama bottoms anymore, anyway." She turned back around. "Besides, they looked cuter on you."

"Thanks," I said, feeling a slight blush come over me.

"Was your mom mad you didn't come home?" Tawny asked, as she pulled a hair tie from her drawer.

"Not really," I said, watching Tawny put her hair up in a ponytail. "She's going through this whole thing though. From me being away a year. I mean, I still saw her, but it was mostly during legal things." I sighed. "And very odd holiday gatherings…"

"Was she freaked about you staying the night?"

"No," I said. "But she wanted to talk to your mom about my… condition." I said the word as if it were some disease that brought top priority to any conversation. At least, that's what everyone else seemed to think of it. "I didn't let her."

"Please," Tawny scoffed, pushing the drawer closed. "My parents only pretend to give a crap. They love to put on a show for others." Tawny walked over to her bed. She quickly set about making it. "If they really cared, Lynne would still be a virgin."

I sat down on Tawny's makeshift art stool to put my shoes on. "Is she really that bad?" I asked. "I mean, the whole slut thing?"

Tawny laughed. "No," she admitted. "But I know she's had some guys in her room. And I know the moaning wasn't from a good massage."

"You make it sound so…," I said, slightly disgusted with her remark.

"Cheap?" Tawny asked. She looked up at me when I didn't answer. "Tawdry? Lewd? Smutty?"

"Okay, Miss Thesaurus," I said. "I was going to say 'uneventful,' but yeah."

"What do you want me to call it?" she asked. "Love making?" Tawny yanked at her sheets. "Can't really say that…" she grunted, "when it sometimes only happens once."

I turned my face away, shaking my head. "What if once is all you had?" I muttered.

"You mean like the world is going to end?" Tawny asked, stopping what she was doing. "That sort of thing?"

"Or… you know… the person you were with is taken from you the next day," I said.

"You went morbid with it," Tawny said.

"Like the world ending isn't?"

"Well that's the only reason I'd give it up early," Tawny said, laughing. "And even then it would have to be with someone super special. Not just someone I'm stuck with." She fluffed her pillows and tossed them back on the bed. "Other than that, I'm staying a virgin… at least until marriage." Slowly she turned; her electric green eyes met mine. "Why are you so curious about it anyway?"

I shrugged. "You brought it up," I said. "And Tracy and Jason were hinting about it."

"Oh, I know!" Tawny said, walking away from her bed. "They were super annoying last night."

"I thought for sure Tracy was going to bounce out of the bleachers," I said, "cheering for him… like… he was some Greek god or something."

"Right? I swear those two would not shut up about each other." Tawny walked over to her dresser. She set about straightening up the slight mess we had made the previous night. "It's like she had to tell us everything Jason did over the summer. His football camps, and practices. Making out underwater in her pool. What he got her for her birthday. How Jason is so awesome and sexy." She spun around. "And he totally beat out Bent Knob for the starting position," she said, mimicking Tracy's voice.

I burst out laughing at Tawny. "It was Brent Kobb! I sit next to him in geography."

"Whatever," Tawny said, turning back to her dresser. "He sounded like a knob to me."

I stood up from the stool. "I mean, from the way Jason talked about him… sure," I said. "But I don't really know the guy. He could be nice. He seemed alright in class."

Tawny shook her head. "So weird hearing you talk like that," she said.

"Like what?"

"Guys are… nice," Tawny said, turning to face me.

"Well some guys are," I admitted.

"Guys are dicks," Tawny said, letting out a faint laugh. "Besides… when did little miss decided start liking boys anyway?"

"I wouldn't put it that way," I said. "I liked a boy." A smile broke across my face, and I tilted my head to the side. "He was actually…" I sighed deeply. "Nice," I finished, realizing how it sounded now.

Tawny simply shook her head again. "Nice," she repeated, walking away from her dresser. "What about that receiver you were cheering on all night?"

"Huh?" I looked at Tawny quizzically.

"When the varsity played," Tawny said. "You lost it every time he caught a pass."

"Oh, you mean Nathan? He's just a friend."

"Ah… friend." Tawny flashed me a sly smile.

"I don't get why you're all over me about it," I said. "You said yesterday that you're into boys now too."

"Yeah?" Tawny kept her smile. "I lied."

"What?" I asked, taking a step back. "Why?"

Tawny shrugged. "It makes Tiff feel better. Solidarity, and all that." She tossed a gym bag over her shoulder. "You all set?" she asked, obviously ending the conversation on her end.

"Ready," I said, reaching down to grab my school bag.

Tawny pulled her door open. "Let's hit the road then."

Most of the car ride home was enjoyable. That is if you discounted the five minute rant from Lynne, about how we were going to make her late for work. It seemed Tawny and her sister were always at each other's throats. While I disagreed with my brother on some things, most of our time together had been enjoyable. I was kind of disappointed he had moved out before the school year started. Still, if I had been stuck with an older sister, I would've chosen Tiffany's sister, Kate, over Lynne.

"I don't give a crap what mom said, I'm not picking you up after work," Lynne said to Tawny.

Tawny rolled her eyes, as she turned to face me. "I'll just move in with Bailey," she said. "Then you won't be burdened by me anymore."

"Sounds good," I responded, with a smile.

"Whatever…" Lynne said.

Tawny turned back to her sister. "If you want, we can hit Bailey's house at full speed," she said. "We can just jump out like it's an action movie."

"Stop being such a passive aggressive little bitch," Lynne said.

"I wouldn't be aggressive at all if you let me sit in the front."

"It's because you always mess with the radio," Lynne said.

"I never mess with the radio," Tawny said.

"Right," Lynne said. "It just switches stations magically. Just like the seats, and everything else in the car. Everything is magic! This car was a steal!"

"Well… I see where you get your sarcasm from," I said, smiling at Tawny.

"Please," Tawny said. "I don't get anything from… her."

"You're getting a ride," Lynne said. "So shut it."

"Thank you for the ride," I said, leaning forward.

Lynne looked at me in the rearview mirror. Her eyes studied me for a moment, most likely trying to figure out if I was being genuine. "At least your friend has some manners," she finally said.

"She does have a name," Tawny said. "Speaking of manners…"

Lynne ignored her sister. "And we're here," she said, turning into my driveway. "That'll be fifteen dollars."

"Um… put it on my tab," I said, opening the door.

"Later Bailey," Lynne said, smiling. "Welcome home."

"Thanks."

"I'll see you after work," Tawny said, quickly getting out of the car.

"No you won't!" Lynne shouted.

Tawny just smiled brightly. "Bye!"

Tawny closed the door, before Lynne had a chance to back over her. She quickly pulled out of the driveway, and took off. I watched the car fade away for a moment, and then I turned to look up the street toward Nathan's house. To my surprise, Nathan came driving down the road at that exact moment. He pulled up to the curb, and rolled his window down.

"Hey Bailey," he said.

"Hey," I responded. "This is Tawny," I said, gesturing toward her. "Tawny, this is Nathan."

"Hi," Tawny said, a little shyly.

"Hey," Nathan said. He turned his focus back toward me. "You just get home?"

"I… yeah," I said, looking into his Jeep. "Where are you off to?"

"Weights and game video today," he said. "I'll be home all afternoon, if you want to do something."

"She would totally do that, if she didn't have plans with me."

I looked up to see Amber walking around the back of Nathan's Jeep. Nathan sort of cringed when I glanced back at him. For a brief moment in time, I had forgotten that Amber even existed; let alone lived across the street. I had most definitely forgotten that I had made plans with her. At least up until this moment, when she came strolling up to me.

Amber was the kind of girl that could either cause problems for me, or be the best friend I'd ever have. Despite everyone, including myself, being slightly unnerved by her presence, I felt Amber warranted a deeper understanding. She was like a sapling that somehow managed to jab a root into my life. At this moment in time, I had the patience to nourish it.

"I did kind of make plans with Amber," I said.

"Well… too bad," Nathan said, giving me a disappointed look. "Guess we'll catch up later."

"Yeah…" I managed to get out, before he waved me off.

I watched his Jeep slowly drift away down the hill. Amber stood silently beside me. Her appearance happened to be a stark contrast to the day before. She had ditched her punk rock look, for khaki cargo Capri pants, black Converses, and a distressed charcoal tee. Her nails were still painted black, and the studded bracelet remained. Aside from her "moody" dark theme, Amber looked more chipper than anything.

"Is everyone up at seven on Saturdays now?" I asked, as I looked her over.

Amber gave me a sympathetic look. "I know…" she said, with a tinge of guilt. "I'm so used to military time, that I forget the rest of the world operates differently." She dug the toe of one of her shoes into the pavement, as if putting out an imaginary cigarette. "I can come back later. Or if you're busy with…"

Amber got this look on her face, as if she was preparing to get blown off. A bit of guilt crept into my head, because I was preparing to do just that. Instead, I forced a smile. "I'm just hanging out with Tawny," I finally said, gesturing toward her.

"Hey," Tawny said.

"Hey," Amber responded.

I watched them shake hands for a moment. "You can hang out with us," I blurted out.

"Oh…" Amber said, perking up. "Sure! If that's okay?" Her question was directed more toward Tawny than myself.

"It's fine with me," Tawny said. Though I could tell by her look, she was desperately seeking an out from me.

Amber shrugged. "I just don't wanna cause you any trouble."

I grabbed her wrist, and started to pull her toward my house. "If you cause any trouble, I know where you live," I said, smiling at her.

"Actually, if I cause any trouble, my dad will be on me faster than fleas on a…" Amber feigned a cough. "Well, let's just say it won't be good."

Tawny followed the two of us up to my house. I held onto Amber's wrist until we reached the top of the stairs. Then I dropped it to fetch my key. To my surprise, the front door flew open. My mother stood there in her robe, with only the storm door between us. She didn't look angry, which was a good sign. As I opened the door, she threw her arms around me.

"I thought I heard you out here," she said, hugging me tightly. "Did everything go alright at school?" She pulled away from the hug. "Did you have any trouble?"

"Um…" I glanced at Amber, who happened to be giving me a strange look. "Mom… This is Amber."

"Oh!" My mother looked around the door frame. "I didn't see you there."

"Hi," Amber said, offering her hand. "I live across the street."

"Yes," my mother said, shaking her hand. "I saw you move in over the summer."

I forced my way into the budding conversation. "And you remember Tawny?"

"Of course," my mother said. "Hello Tawny."

"Hello," Tawny said.

"Is it okay if they hang out here for a little while?" I asked, pleading a bit with my eyes.

My mother stepped back, pulling her robe closed. She struggled to force a smile onto her face. "That's fine," she said.

Though I could tell it was not. Over the years, I had a knack for overstepping my boundaries when it came to making plans. That is to say, that most of the time I failed to mention my plans to my mother. The honest truth of the matter, was that I usually forgot small things like inviting someone to hang out. In this particular case, I had totally forgotten that I invited Amber to come over. Therefore, it had slipped my mind to mention it to my mother on the phone the previous night.

Tawny's invite happened to be a spur of the moment thing, where I could have sought approval first. Regardless of my failing to do so, my mother put on her usual front of not caring that I had done the deed. It would most likely result in a lecture later. For the time being, however, she invited Amber and Tawny inside. I quickly followed behind them. As I passed by my mother, she whispered those five words in my ear that I hated to hear.

"We need to talk later," she said. Then she raised her eyebrow at me, before turning to close the door.

"So, you want to hang out in your room, or…" Amber started to say.

"Actually," my mother said. "I just had a thought before you came home."

"What's that?" I asked.

My mother waved for us to follow her downstairs. "Your brother's room is pretty much empty now," she said, as we descended the stairs. "I was thinking of something to do with it." She turned on the light to my brother's old room. "I'd hate for it to turn into storage, or something."

"I guess we could make it into a workout room," I said.

My mother gave me a weird look and shook her head. "No, hun," she said. "I was thinking we could remodel it, and turn it into a bedroom for you."

"Huh?" I glanced at the room and then back to my mother. "Really?"

"Well… yeah," my mother said. "I don't see your brother moving back in. You're in high school now. It would give you and your friends some space, and some privacy…"

"Can I…" I reached up and rustled my hair a bit. "Can I think about it?"

"Hey," my mother said, stepping back. "No pressure. I just thought you'd like a totally fresh start."

"I mean, it sounds good and all," I said, gazing at the room. "Could I have a minute?" I turned to my friends. "Could you excuse me?"

"Are you okay?" my mother asked.

"It's just… I want to change clothes," I said. "Still wearing what I had on yesterday."

"Oh… yeah," Amber said, stepping out of my way. "I gotcha."

"We'll hang out down here," Tawny said, as I slipped past her.

"Just make yourself at home," my mother said. She followed me up the stairs, and down the hall, and then into my room. Apparently we were going to have that talk now.

"Are you mad?" I asked, before she could say anything.

"Hmm?" My mother gave me a perplexed look. "Oh, about your friends? No." She closed the door to a crack. "I want to know how everything went yesterday."

"It went fine," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"No," my mother said. "None of that 'it went fine' business. I don't want our relationship to become that."

"Mom…" I sighed as I looked at her. "I would tell you if anything bad happened. The truth is, nothing did. Everything went great."

"Really?"

"Yes," I said. "I mean, there were a few hiccups getting used to the actual campus. But it felt like a normal day at school."

"Did you like your teachers?" she asked.

"They were okay," I said. "I really like my drama teacher. It might be a good thing that I got the wrong class."

"Well…" My mother looked me over. "Good then. I'm glad everything worked out." She nodded at me. "I was a little worried when you left your friends down there."

"Oh…" I shrugged. "I really did just want to change clothes," I said.

"That's fine," my mother said. "I'd like to get out of this robe too."

I smiled at her. "Okay."

She started to turn, but then stopped. "I do need to discuss something later though." She paused to lower her voice. "I may have found a solution to your medical treatment."

"You found a doctor?" I asked, perking up a bit.

"Well she's a therapist," my mother said. "But she's willing to work with us."

"That's good, right?"

"I hope so," my mother said. "At the very least, maybe she can clear you for another doctor."

"That's great!" I said, wrapping my arms around her waist.

Ever since I got back home, my mother had been fighting with doctors. Most of them had wanted to start at ground zero with me, despite the fact I'd been living as a girl for over a year. They wanted me to start all over; some even wanting to halt my medication for awhile. Which, by the way, was slowly dwindling. It was either that, or issues with insurance coverage. Either way, to hear that we'd possibly found a solution was great news.

"You should get back to your friends," my mother said, pulling away from the hug. "We can talk later."

"Thanks mom," I said.

"You're welcome," she said, leaving the room.

Pushing my door closed, I turned to face my room. I still couldn't believe a lot of my things were still packed. It had been less than a month since I returned home, but I still couldn't believe half of my outfits were still being pulled from a box. Despite being home, it really didn't feel like home. A lot of things had changed, and it seemed a whole lot easier to change my living arrangements now, rather than later.

Maybe part of my disorientation had to do with being rushed. Admittedly I had been a little selfish over the past year. I wanted to spend as much time with my cousin and friends in Nebraska, over the summer, that I kept pushing the move off. My aunt even attempted to convince me to stay when July rolled to a close. I entertained the thought the entire time I was packing.

Now… I simply didn't want to unpack. Perhaps my lack of motivation stemmed from my fear of failing at this endeavor to return home. I strolled over to an open box, and pulled a pair of jean shorts from it. They seemed the most comfortable bet for what had already started to be a humid day. Even the house felt warm to me. Being an older house, it did have its problems with circulation. The weather could have been another factor in my aversion to work.

Quickly I disrobed. I switched out my panties for a clean pair. Then I thought I might as well change my bra too. After which, I pulled on the jean shorts. I grabbed an old, faded tee-shirt to finish the comfortable look, and also taking into consideration that I might be working today. Then I sat for a moment to collect my thoughts, as I worked on my shoes.

A few minutes later, I exited my room. As I strolled down the hallway, I started to worry if Amber would want to see my room. The term "disaster area" couldn't even begin to describe it. My mother had some of my stuff stored away, but some of my old boy things were still hanging around. I probably should've taken the weekend, or maybe the week, to clean it all up. However, I had wandered into another situation where everything seemed rushed, and out of sync.

Tawny would not have cared. She knew who I was, and had openly stated her support and approval. In retrospect, Tawny had been the only one that never really saw me as boy or girl. She hardly ever assigned gender to me. To her, I had simply been Bailey. Amber, on the other hand, seemed open to many things, but I feared revealing my former self to her. It could turn out being a disaster, or elation. Honestly, I would be lucky if it fell somewhere in the "just okay" realm of things.

"So you've been to Colorado?" I heard my mother ask, as I reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Yeah," Amber said. "I loved it there!"

"Aren't the mountains just breathtaking?" my mother asked.

"When they're snow-capped…" Amber said. "Freakin' amazing!"

I almost didn't want to interrupt the conversation. For a second I thought Amber was my mother's friend, rather than mine. My mother didn't even miss a beat when Amber said "freakin';" a word that usually merited myself a scolding. She kept rolling with the punches. Amber seemed to hold her own too. Talking to adults had never been my strong point, but it came so natural to Amber. Hell… everything seemed to come natural to her.

"I'd love to see the mountains one day," Tawny said. "I'd actually like to do some paintings of them."

"Oh, I just thought of something," Amber said. "We could do like a mural on this wall."

"That would be awesome!" Tawny exclaimed.

"I guess we'll have to see if she's even interested," my mother said. "I wonder what's keeping her."

I slowly slinked down the rest of the stairs. While up in my room, I had weighed the pros and cons of moving into my brother's old room. There would be a little work for what seemed like a lot of gain. The room even had its own fireplace. Not to mention, I seemingly already had two friends on-board with helping. It sounded like the decision had been made for me.

"Oh," my mother said, seeing me. "There she is. I'll leave you girls to it."

"Nice to meet you Misses Taylor," Amber said. "You're pretty cool."

"Thanks," my mother said, somehow shocked at the compliment. "And you can call me Susan."

Amber smiled pleasantly. "If you insist."

"I do," my mother said, as she moved toward me. "And that goes for you too, Tawny."

"Sure… Susan," Tawny said.

I brushed past my mother on the stairs. "I'd invite you to my room, but it's kind of a mess," I said.

My mother stopped abruptly and turned. "Another reason to move into Justin's," she said. "There's plenty of room there."

"I said I'll think about it," I said, between gritted teeth.

"Well think fast," my mother said, continuing up the stairs. "Sounds like your friends have already made up their minds."

I stepped into my brother's old room. He had basically moved out right before I moved back in. If I hadn't stayed with my aunt for so long, I could have spent a little time with him before he left. Justin and I hadn't exactly been the closest of siblings. Mostly this was due to our differences in age. However, in recent years he didn't seem to mind having me hang around him as much.

As my friends greeted me, I reflected on the state in which I had left Justin. I practically missed his entire senior year. From Nathan's description, Justin had all but single-handedly won the state championship game for Henley High. He ran in the only touchdown for a 7-3 victory. Afterwards, he kind of stopped caring about football. I couldn't even get him to talk about it over Christmas break.

"So your brother…" Amber said. "How old is he?"

"Huh?" I shook my head to return to reality.

"How old is your brother?" Amber asked again.

"Oh…" I said, strolling over to an old stool. "He's seven… eighteen actually. Just had his birthday over the summer.

"And he already has a place of his own?" Amber asked, with a hint of surprise in her voice.

I chuckled at her. "No," I said. "He's living with two other guys from school."

"Oh, I see."

"So… sort of on his own," Tawny said. "In a way."

"I guess," I said, shrugging.

"Still pretty cool," Amber said.

I looked around the room. It could've done with a little attention. The majority of the walls appeared dingy; save for the few contrasting bright spots where posters used to hang. The cheap carpet, Tom had put in, had always felt rough. There were a few stains here and there as well. For some reason, Justin had moved the television out into the middle of the room. He probably was thinking of taking it with him, but decided to leave it.

"Well…" Amber said. "You can tell a boy lived in this room."

I looked over to see her holding up an old Playboy magazine; her fingers pinching the corner of it. "Would you put that down?"

Amber laughed, as she tossed the magazine away. "Maybe he just reads the articles."

"Right…" Tawny said, laughing as well.

"I don't even want to think about it," I said, shaking my head.

"Why?" Amber asked. "Every guy does… you know…"

I ignored her, and began to fidget with the television. I wondered if the thing even worked still.

"Girls too," Amber said, pushing the issue.

I straightened myself abruptly, preparing to tell her to shut up.

"Do you?" Tawny asked, giving Amber a sly grin.

Amber's eyes grew bigger. "I…"

My grimace suddenly broke into laughter. I watched as Amber's face turned bright red. Finally, someone had found something that could potentially shut her up for a minute. Her arms folded across her chest, and she bit her bottom lip. Eventually she started laughing with me. Although I think it was more out of nervousness, or embarrassment, rather than actually sharing in my enjoyment.

"What about you?" Amber suddenly asked me, in the midst of laughter.

"Of course I do," I said, during a break in my laughter. "I love to read!"

This brought on another fit of laughter, in which Tawny even joined in. I was nearly in tears when my mother knocked on the open door. Amber turned away from us, and tried to control her giggling. I, on the other hand, adopted the look of someone who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. In the back of my mind, I was wondering how much of the conversation my mother heard. I cleared my throat as I greeted her.

"I didn't mean to interrupt your fun," my mother said.

"Oh… no," I said, trying to contain myself. "We were just…" I looked at Amber. She was still giggling. "Joking around," I finally said, letting out a slight giggle.

"Well…" my mother said. "I was wondering if you made up your mind." She looked around the room. "You haven't really settled into your old room yet." She wiped some dust off of an old bookshelf. "And it would be easy for you to move."

I glanced around the room. "It's kind of dirty."

My statement prompted a sharp, and rather loud, outburst from Amber. She quickly covered her mouth.

Tawny walked over and started to shake Amber.

"Well we can fix it up a bit," my mother said, thankfully not letting on to our inside joke. "A coat of paint."

"New carpet?" I asked, kicking at it.

My mother looked down. "That really is bad," she said, studying the carpet.

"You sure about all of this?" I asked. "I mean, we could just use it for storage."

"We'd completely forget about anything we stored down here," my mother said, wandering into the room. "It's bigger. It's private." She stopped and looked at another door. "You would even have your own bathroom."

"Which needs a thorough cleaning, I'm sure," I said.

Amber cleared her throat at this, causing me to turn and give her a quick death stare. Tawny slapped her on the shoulder before I turned back around.

My mother nodded absentmindedly. "What do you think?"

"I'll help!" Amber exclaimed.

"Me too!" Tawny chimed in.

I turned to face them. "Really?"

"Yeah," Tawny said. "It's like a blank canvas. Imagine the possibilities."

My mother chuckled. "Possibilities within reason," she said, nodding at Tawny. "And within budget."

"Can I decorate it however I want?" I asked, perking up to the idea.

"Again… within reason," my mother said, giving me a knowing look. "So what do you say?" she asked, coming over to put her hands on my shoulders. "You've already got two friends willing to help, and you didn't even have to Tom Sawyer them into it."

I glanced over at Amber. I'm sure whatever answer I gave, my new friend would explode upon me uttering it. If I held off any longer, I imagined she would be bouncing off of the walls. Tawny seemed excited as well, but more restrained. She looked almost as eager to hear my response.

"Sure," I said. "I guess so."

"Well don't get too excited," my mother said.

"Oh!" Amber exclaimed. "This is going to be so much fun!" She ran over and threw her arms around me, and bounced side to side. "When do you wanna start?" She danced off to the side. "Let's start now!"

"Really?" I asked, watching her for a moment. "I mean, we don't have anything."

"We can plan it though!" Amber exclaimed. Her eyes lit up like fireworks.

"And clean…" Tawny said. Her hands clenched her elbows as she looked around the dingy basement room.

"Well…" My mother looked us over. "Let's hear your ideas. Maybe we can pick some things up today."

The next couple of hours were spent cleaning out my brother's old room. It wasn't at all how I planned on spending my Saturday morning. However, Amber had a way of making even the most mundane task somewhat fun. She seemed like a nice, upbeat and energetic person. It was almost like she had been born to rally people, and push them to accomplish more. Maybe it had to do with growing up around the military.

Tawny seemed pretty well versed in cheering people on too. I wondered if maybe cheerleading was her calling. She had mentioned liking the tumbling aspects of it. The flips, handsprings, saltos, and round offs, all reminded her of doing gymnastics. However, she felt gymnastics put more of a strain on her free time. So she decided to forego the gymnastics, and simply have fun with cheerleading. I personally couldn't say I blamed her.

I plopped down on the couch next to Tawny, and swung my legs up into her lap. She nonchalantly patted one of my knees. Amber sat herself on a stool across from us. We had just finished clearing out the last of the boxes from Justin's old room, and aside from a few pieces of furniture, it looked rather bare. My mother had seen the old Playboy magazines, and promptly showed them to a trash bag.

"Well…" my mother said, strolling into the room. "What do you say we go get some paint, and stop off for lunch?"

"Sounds good," Amber said. Her enthusiasm level had not faltered a bit. "I just have to tell my parents."

"I'm starving," Tawny said.

I glanced over at her. "We didn't even eat breakfast."

"Well that's not good," my mother said. "Amber, why don't you run home?" she asked. "And while you do that, I'll get some makeup on."

"Okay," Amber said, bolting from her stool. "I'll be back in a few."

My mother followed her upstairs.

"How does she have so much energy?" I asked, after the front door closed.

"We were up pretty late with that stupid game," Tawny said. "Plus we hardly ate anything since Tiffany's house."

"I guess," I said. "But still…"

"She did say she runs on military time," Tawny said. "Maybe her parents are strict with the whole lights out thing."

"Isn't that for prison?" I asked.

Tawny shrugged. "It's both… I think."

"Are you really going to do a mural?" I asked, looking over at the walls.

"Probably not," Tawny said. "It would take forever. Would probably have to come over every night after school, just to finish it." Her hand started to move gently up and down my shin. "But you've gotta talk your mom into something other than white walls."

"I was actually thinking like a light teal," I said. "With white shelves and furniture."

"That sounds nice," Tawny said. "Or maybe like a seafoam green?"

"Yeah," I said. I looked up at her, only to find her staring at me. "That would work too," I said quietly.

Tawny's hand stopped moving on my leg. We continued to gaze into each other's eyes. Neither one of us said a word for several minutes. I reached up and wiped a smudge of dirt from Tawny's cheek. As my hand moved away, she caught my wrist in her own hand. She cautiously pulled it back to her cheek. Her lips brushed against the heel of my palm. Her eyes closed.

"Girls!" my mother shouted down the stairs. "Let's get a move on."

Tawny's eyes sprung open. The look in them seemed frantic, as if she'd been caught doing something wrong. She instinctively let go of my wrist. Then she smiled at me. Her other hand patted my bare leg, as if to set me into motion. My head felt fuzzy. I was left with the feeling of not knowing exactly what just happened.

"We should get going," Tawny said. "Mind if I use the bathroom?"

"Uh…" I sat up, shaking my head. "Better use the one upstairs."

Tawny looked over to my brother's old bathroom. Her nose wrinkled. "Probably right," she said, before hurrying off.

I strolled over to Justin's old bathroom in her stead. Turning on the light, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. A smudge of dirt had somehow managed to make it onto my forehead. Luckily the sink was at least clean enough to wash up. Justin had even left an old bottle of soap behind as well.

In actuality, the bathroom wasn't that bad. I expected far worse, having seen far worse when he lived there. Perhaps he cleaned it up before he moved. Or maybe he cleaned it up to impress Katy, when she came over. Then again, I could've been giving my brother far too much credit, and should've probably assumed that our mother cleaned it while he was away. I, for one, knew it to always be messy when I came to collect his laundry.

I decided to use the toilet after all, as it was clean. After finishing up, and washing up, I walked back into Justin's old room. We had some fun times down here. I remembered late night video game sessions in the summer; trying to beat a game we'd rented before taking it back the next day. My first R-rated movie had been seen in this room. Justin eventually had to confess to having the horror film, after I couldn't sleep for several days.

Then Justin got older. He went into high school, and I saw less of him. We lived under the same roof, but hardly hung out together. I started becoming the tag-along little brother. Then I became the tag-along little brother that wanted to be a girl. It wasn't too often that I thought about how that impacted him. I knew he started drinking, but I always thought that was because of Tom. Never did I stop to think that my choice to wanting to be Justin's sister could have made that sort of impact on him.

"Hey," Tawny said, catching me off guard at the door. "About what just happened…"

"I… what do you mean?" I asked, trying to save us both any embarrassment.

Tawny shook her head, as if reading my mind. "I just wanted…"

"Tawny," I said quietly. She grew quiet, and looked into my eyes. "So seafoam green?"

Tawny blinked. A slight smile spread across her lips. I flicked the light off in my new room. Then I walked with her upstairs. We met my mother coming down the other set of stairs, and I opened the door for all of us. Amber was nearly skipping across the street as we got down to the driveway. I opened the back door of my mother's car to let Amber in. Then I turned to Tawny and gave her a wink as she brushed by me to join her.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

Part 5

Amber Miller tossed another plastic case onto the growing pile in the chair. "Don't you have anything besides pop music?" she asked. "This is like boy band hell."

"Would you stop?" I asked, as I came over to yank the box from her hands. "There's some good music in here."

"Please," Amber said, stepping back over to grab her paint roller. "The hardest thing you got in there is Aerosmith." She looked over her shoulder as she gathered paint. "And that's not saying much."

"You got paint on this one," I whined, as I tried to wipe off the compact disc case.

"I'd be getting more paint on the walls," she said, "if I had some good music to paint to."

"The music's fine," Tawny chimed in. "Besides, we're almost done anyway."

Tawny had been in the bathroom for the last several minutes, cleaning herself up. Unfortunately, her sister would be here soon, and she would have to leave us. That is to say, she would have to leave me alone with Amber. A girl that happened to make me very nervous to be around. Although, looking at the circumstances, I was nervous about being alone with Tawny as well.

There was no doubt an unmistakable connection that lingered between Tawny and I. We had never really shared any deep feelings toward each other, but I had always felt the tension between us. Ever since that time we kissed on Halloween nearly two years ago, it felt like I had been dodging the inevitable. It was hard to tell, but I thought maybe she had felt something too; before, and since I came back.

"Tawny!" my mother shouted down the stairs. "Sister's here."

Tawny let out a long sigh, which turned to a groan near the end of it. "I wish I could stay and help finish," she said, as she threw her arms around me.

"We'll get it done," Amber said, cheerfully. "Was nice hanging with you."

"Same," Tawny said. She stepped over close to Amber. "And go easy on Bailey. She'll get some good music one of these days."

"Hey!" I exclaimed, as I stooped down to get my paint brush.

"See you two at school," Tawny said, as she made her way to the door.

"Lates," Amber said.

"Bye Tawny."

I gave her a pleasant smile as she passed by me. Seeing as how we were nearly done with the walls, I had turned my attention to painting the door frame. We chose a nice clean white to contrast with the seafoam green of the walls. My mother had busied herself outside, painting some shelves the same white. So I was left to take care of the few accents that were left in the actual room. Tawny and Amber had helped make quick work of the walls.

We managed to pick up a bedside table at the store. The rest of it, however, would have to be sorted out later. My mother and I planned a trip for that later on. I figured she didn't exactly want the other girls' input on what she was willing to buy. It was hard enough convincing her on a paint color other than white for walls. She liked things clean and cool, and still thought the color I chose for the walls was a little… well… off the wall.

"So…" Amber said, from the other side of the room. "Just us."

"Yep," I said.

"Bailey," Amber said, waiting for me to turn and face her. "Thanks for… you know… taking a chance on me."

I shrugged. "You're welcome?"

"It's just… I know I can be pretty abrasive," she said. "Sometimes invasive—"

"Amber," I said, silencing her. "It's cool. I like you."

Amber lowered her paint roller. "Really?"

"I'm not going to disagree with what you said," I said. "You are pretty blunt." I chuckled. "But it's what makes you… you."

"Well," Amber said. "Okay then." She went back to painting the wall. "I like you too," she said quietly.

I smiled as I turned back to painting the doorframe. Maybe that awkward little exchange got to Amber. Maybe it was the paint fumes. Either way, she started enjoying my "horrible" taste in music, and at one point started singing and dancing along to it. It didn't take us long until we had finished painting the rest of the room. Although it wasn't necessarily a professional grade job, it looked pretty good to me.

"Should we do the closet?" Amber asked, pulling the door open.

"Mom said to leave that," I said. "She has a friend that can fix it up."

I stepped over to the closet, and looked inside. It wasn't exactly a room unto itself, but I could at least call it a walk-in closet. That is if you discounted the fact that you could only walk in, and possibly sit down on the floor. Still, it was an upgrade from what I had upstairs, and I liked it. Looking down at the floor, however, did give me second thoughts of sitting.

"I'm just glad the carpet's coming next Saturday," I said.

"Hmm," Amber said. "You probably won't even get to move in here until next week." She stepped back into the room. "Kinda sucks."

"It's just a week," I said, smiling to myself. "Thanks for all the help today."

"No problem," she responded.

Amber and I walked over to the couch, and sank into it. I guess if you wanted to get technical, it was actually an oversized loveseat. My brother and I had always felt weird calling it that. Especially when he had the guys over. Sitting next to your "bro" on the "loveseat" didn't sound all that cool. It didn't sound cool to be sitting with your actual brother on it either.

"So…" I glanced over at Amber; my eyes trailing down to the black studded bracelet on her wrist. "What's the deal with the bracelet? You never said."

Amber looked down at her wrist, and after a moment began to play with the bracelet. "I got it when I was with a friend in North Carolina," she said. "It was in a crappy little store near Fort Bragg. He was kind of a gearhead. So I picked it up, joking about being a biker chick, and riding off into the sunset with him when he turned sixteen and got a motorcycle." She paused, smiling before continuing. "I forgot I had it, until I got up to the register. He thought it would be funny if I bought it. So I did. I don't wear it all of the time, but every time I do, I remember my friend, and all of the trouble we got into."

I nodded thoughtfully at her story.

"I know… it's stupid," Amber said.

"No!" I exclaimed. "It's actually kind of sweet."

Amber shook her head. "Nah… it's stupid."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Where all have you lived?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

Amber put her head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. "Well… let's see," she said. "There was, of course, North Carolina. Texas—great food there. Florida and Georgia. South Carolina for a short time before going to North Carolina. Oregon." Amber had begun to count the states on her fingers as she continued to stare at the ceiling. "Oklahoma…" She rolled her head to look at me. "Don't ever go there… California, by far my favorite. Virginia, and here." She held her finger up in the air. "Some of those were repeats too. Mostly for my dad's training. He wanted us nearby, even if it was only for a few months."

"Wow…" I sat looking at her in stunned silence for a moment. "Bet you have some fun stories. And all of that before fourteen?"

"I'm actually fifteen," Amber said. "I should be a sophomore, but schooling kind of gets messed up when moving that much."

"That's crazy," I said. "So you basically moved as many times as your age."

"Never even thought of that." Amber turned her head back to look at the ceiling. "I guess it's kind of nice that I get to finish up high school in one place."

"Not only that," I said. "You get to drive next year!"

Amber laughed. "That's true, I guess." She rolled her eyes over to look at me.

I gave her a reluctant smile. "It must have been hard for you," I said, putting my hand on her arm. "Moving around and all."

"It was at first," Amber said. "The first few times we moved, I was too young to remember. But I remember when we left Oregon, I nearly ran away from home."

"Really?" I asked. "I wanted to come back home after a month of being away. Then I kind of got used to being away. Now I kind of miss my friends in Nebraska."

"I was like that for awhile too," Amber said. "After awhile, I kind of got this mentality that I could be moving tomorrow. I learned to live in the moment."

"Sounds so grown up," I muttered to myself, as I pulled my hand away.

"Please," Amber said with a laugh. "Talk to my dad. He'll tell you differently." She leaned back and looked at the ceiling.

I glanced over at Amber. "You always mention your dad," I said. "What about your mom?"

"My mom?" Amber rolled her head to the side to face me. "She's boring."

"Oh, she can't be that bad," I said.

"She's a typical housewife," Amber said. "The only thing interesting about her, is she likes to throw dinner parties." Amber turned her head away. "Some would even say she's obsessive about them."

"See," I said. "That's not boring! Your mother has a disorder." I nudged her playfully with my elbow.

Amber let out a slight giggle. "So what's the deal with you?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked, feeling a bit nervous where this might lead.

"Well you mentioned your stepdad in drama class, but not your dad," Amber said. "What's the rest of your family like?"

I was taken aback by her question. "Oh," I said, without having anything to follow it up with.

Amber looked over at me once more. "I'm sorry," she said. "Is that a sore spot?"

"Well," I said. "Yes and no." I finally managed to turn my head from my blank stare. "My dad died when I was young."

"Oh…" Amber sat up straighter. "Sorry."

"Thanks," I said, "but I got over that a long time ago."

"So your stepdad is…"

"Was," I said, quickly. "He's in prison."

"Wow! I have really gotta stop starting these downer conversations," Amber said, as she stood again.

"It's fine," I said, watching her walk around the room. "He just did some things that got him in trouble. Call it poor business decisions." In my mind I could think of other things to be calling Tom's actions.

"I'm really sorry," Amber said, turning to face me.

"Really, it's fine," I said, trying my best to match my expression with my sentiment.

"It's just we were having a fun time…" Amber paced across the rundown carpet. "And I dropped a bomb on it all."

"Amber!" I stood up, blocking her path. I placed my hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "It's fine. You didn't ruin anything. Relax." For some reason, I had a slight flashback of Tawny telling me to relax several times the day before.

Amber stared at me for a moment. Eventually she cracked a smile. I returned the smile, and gave her a friendly hug. It felt weird, having only known her for a couple of days, yet we'd hugged several times. I hoped I wasn't turning into one of those people; a hugger. The hug was abruptly interrupted by my mother's voice coming down the stairs once more.

"Your father's here, Amber."

We quickly cleaned up a bit, and I followed Amber up the stairs to our split-level entryway. My mother had the door open, talking to the tall man I presumed was Amber's father. A hulking individual, his body nearly filled the doorframe behind him. I imagine he even had to duck under the top of the frame when he stepped through. Something that not even Tom had to do, and he was about a foot taller than my mother.

Amber strolled forward, wrapping her arms around him. Maybe she was the hugger, and simply sucked other people in. Her father's demeanor seemed to melt a little bit, as he put one arm around his daughter. He smiled down at her, and continued the smile right to the point of looking me in the eyes. I shied away from looking at him directly. Despite his smile, the man still looked intimidating. His burr haircut even reminded me a little of Tom.

"You must be Bailey," he said, thrusting out his hand toward me.

I cautiously slinked forward. Nodding quietly, I took his hand in mine. His hand completely engulfed mine, and I could tell he wasn't using a fraction of his strength, as he gently shook it. The handshake seemed to linger for longer than I had anticipated, while Mister Miller mentioned his delight in Amber already making friends. Eventually he let my hand slip from his grasp, and he turned back to address my mother.

"Well I won't take up anymore of your time," he said.

"Oh, think nothing of it," my mother said. "It was nice to meet you, Quentin. Welcome to the neighborhood."

"Thank you," Quentin said. "Let me know if there's anything I can help you ladies with around here."

My mother reached out and put her arm around my shoulders. "I think we'll manage," she said, pulling me closer to her. "But thank you." She glanced down at Amber. "And your daughter is welcome here any time."

Quentin glanced down at me. "The same goes for your daughter," he said, before turning his focus back to my mother. "At least once we get settled in."

"Of course," my mother said.

"I better get back to the missus now," Quentin said. "Take care."

"You too," my mother said.

"Bye," I chimed in, waving to Amber mostly.

"Catch you later," Amber said.

Amber and her father retreated through our front door. We watched them walk down our front steps for a moment. Then my mother closed the door. She turned to look at me. After a brief moment of silence, she smiled and started to make her way to the living room.

"What did he mean by helping us with stuff here?" I asked.

My mother froze with her foot on the first step. "I mentioned that it was just us living here," she said. "He was just being neighborly."

"Oh…"

"Did you get the room finished?" she asked.

"Pretty much," I said. "We got it painted at least."

"Well good," she said, starting to climb the stairs again. "Come get cleaned up and help me make dinner. I'll take a look down there after."

Cooking had become something that had garnered my affection the older I got. I knew I wouldn't ever have my own cooking show, but it was something I enjoyed doing. Though it could be stressful at times, getting a meal together, I actually found a lot of the preparation therapeutic. The older I got, the more things I was trusted to do in the kitchen as well.

I really began to enjoy it the previous year. Living out in the country, my aunt usually made a lot of meals at home. They didn't have many places to run out and get fast food. So on her days off, my aunt would prepare meals that were ready to cook. It ended up being a lot more preparation than actual cooking, but it became something that drew my focus away from the turmoil in my life.

Admittedly I had squandered most of the initial summer after my orchiectomy. Everyone filled my head with how brave I was at the hospital, and how well I received the news. Truthfully, I hardly remembered most of it. In fact, it took a few therapy sessions for me to realize how far out of it I had become. I had resorted to some form of denial, yet still recognized the reality and gravity of what I had been through.

For the first month, I couldn't hardly bring myself to look down there. My aunt, a registered nurse, helped me through the healing process. She kept telling me my recovery was going well, but I didn't seem to care. Each new day thankfully brought less pain. Eventually the bandages went away, and shortly after the stitches came out. As if to always remind me of the procedure, a couple of two-inch scars in my lower abdomen were all that remained.

It was near the end of June, when I began to come out of my malaise. I really couldn't do much in the way of physical activity to start with. Long days of staring blankly at the wall or ceiling, turned to days occupied with reading some of the books my cousin had brought me. On the first morning of July, I stepped out onto my cousin's balcony. It quickly became the main thing I absolutely adored about her room. It seemed so peaceful; so far removed from everything.

Every morning thereafter, I would sneak out onto the balcony to watch the sunrise. I would listen to the birds sing. Sometimes I would read. Other times I would close my eyes and picture myself floating like the clouds in the sky. I had a lot of time to think, but most days I would try not to think about anything. Though it's difficult to explain, watching fireworks on the Fourth of July felt like seeing color for the first time.

It took me a few more weeks to come around, but when I did, it felt like an epiphany. I came to the realization that I had a brand new life to live, and I wanted to live it as a girl. Instead of moping around my aunt's house, I started taking short walks outside. I was supposed to be walking anyway, and my cousin soon joined me on the walks. Kelly had grown up quite a bit from her days of relentlessly pinching me. She was actually a great person to converse with.

Eventually my walks with Kelly turned into helping her with her chores. From there it progressed into helping her mother prepare meals. Which, in turn, led to me getting enjoyment out of being in the kitchen. Both my mother and my aunt had a wonderful teacher. I barely got to see my grandmother, but just by being in the kitchen with her daughters, I could feel the love she had instilled in them. Not to mention, her recipes brought more than enough stories with them to fill the void.

So I guess you could say I really liked cooking. It actually became a necessary life skill when I moved back home. My mother, although there for me, sometimes wasn't able to be there physically all of the time. There were times when I had to fend for myself, and make my own dinner. Especially when she ended up working late. Which, with her being the only source of income in our house, became increasingly more often.

"So…" My mother looked over at me, as she set the table. "Did you have fun last night with your friends?"

"It was actually kind of exhausting," I admitted, as I carried over part of our meal. "They dragged me to that game, and it was actually two games. Did you know they did that?"

My mother chuckled. "Of course, Bailey," she said. "After four years of dragging your brother there, it kind of dawned on me."

"Oh… right," I said, as I put down a plate of grilled chicken. "Well the game was pretty much the topping on a long day."

"I bet," my mother said. "High school can be pretty rough." She started to dip out some vegetables. "I remember I memorized every route to my classes freshman year, and still got lost a few times."

"Thankfully that didn't happen," I said, taking a seat near her. "But I…" I looked up at her sheepishly. "I told Tiffany and Tawny about… you know… what happened with Tom… and me."

"Oh…" My mother put her fork down, and raised her eyebrows at me. "How did that go?"

"Surprisingly well," I said. "At least the part about them understanding." I reached out and picked up my glass of water. "Telling them seemed to be the hard part."

"Did you tell anyone else?"

I took a sip of water. "Kate was there too."

"What about Amber?"

I sighed, placing my glass back down. "I haven't gotten around to that yet," I said. "I'm kind of scared of what might happen."

My mother took a few bites of food, seeming to mull it over in her head. "Well, I can't tell you what to do," she finally said. "But I think sooner than later might be best with that girl."

"I know," I said. "You're right. It's just… she kind of blabs."

My mother laughed. "I can see that," she said, before taking a sip of water. "But it won't be too long until the word gets out about you somehow."

I groaned thinking about that prospect.

"We have to be realistic here, Bailey," my mother said.

"I know," I said. "I know."

"It might be better to tell her now, than for her to find out from some random student."

"Well… Amber is pretty open," I said. "She's lived pretty much coast to coast, so nothing really seems to phase her." I shrugged, taking a bite of my food. "I haven't even told Nathan yet," I said after swallowing.

"Why would you have to tell him?" my mother asked, seemingly aloof of the situation. "I figured he'd learned everything from Justin."

"Apparently Justin didn't talk," I said. "About anything really. Nathan said he kind of bottled it up." I pushed my food around with my fork. "I guess quite literally…"

"So you heard about his drinking problem?" my mother asked.

I looked up in surprise.

"I'm not oblivious, Bailey. I knew what was going on." She took a bite of food. "We fought about it constantly. In fact, it was one of the reasons I felt he should move out."

"You wanted him to move out?" I asked.

My mother took a deep breath. "I didn't want him to move out. He was just so full of anger," she said, as she looked out at the backyard through our sliding glass door. "It wasn't necessarily directed at anyone specifically."

I lowered my eyes, knowing full well what my brother had been mad about. He was mad at Tom for tearing the family apart. Likely he was mad at me as well. I'd been the one to drive the final nail into the coffin that was the case against Tom. I had helped to put my stepfather in prison. Granted he deserved it, but it did cause a rift to form in our household.

"So I told him if he continued to act that way, perhaps it was best if he got his own place," my mother continued, without noticing I had tuned out part of what she had said. "And he did… after graduation."

"I could have at least stayed home," I said.

My mother reached out and put her hand on mine. "Don't get me wrong. I missed you, sweetie," she said. "But I still think we made the right choice." She smiled at me. "You had a whole year to come to terms with what had happened. You were with people who cared about you, just as much as I care about you."

"It was like being in a bubble for a year though," I said.

"Well it kept you away from all of the drama."

"It just seems that I came back home to the drama," I said. "It never left. I just stepped aside for a moment, and lived in my own little corner of the world."

"Life will always have drama," my mother said, with a smile. "Speaking of which… tell me about that drama class."

---

 
 
To Be Continued...

Part 6

The setting felt all too familiar. Late summer had brought a nearly unbearable heat wave to our growing suburban area. Forced into shorts, until it passed, my bare legs stuck to the leather of the office bench. The stiff beige carpet made a rather dense scraping sound, not unlike sandpaper, when I shuffled my low top Converses over the surface. It brought back memories of that horrid gray carpet in Rajan's office.

My mother sat next to me. Her leg bounced impatiently, as the papers clenched in her hands rustled atop her knee. I felt a little sorry she had to wear pantyhose on such a wretched day. She had come straight from work, with no chance to change out of her skirt and heels. We had rushed here right after I got out of school, so we wouldn't miss our appointment.

With one bare leg draped over the other, I glanced around the office. It was still a little warm, even inside. Like the air conditioning decided to take a break from running all day. Everyone tried to look busy, despite the temperature, but they all seemed so tired. All I felt like doing was going home and falling into my new bed. However, I knew we had to be here. It was something that simply had to be done.

A young woman walked out from a side door, and went straight to the receptionist. She seemed so vibrant and sophisticated. Her deep auburn hair was drawn back into a ponytail. Thin glasses framed her rich brown eyes. The satin blouse she wore looked like a pearl white cream upon her body, giving stark contrast to her loose black business pants. She turned to face the lobby, looking expectantly out at the small group present.

"Bailey?"

I raised my hand. The young woman smiled and waved me to come join her. My mother stood up next to me, and I quickly gathered myself to follow her. I watched as the woman shook my mother's hand; greeting her verbally. Then she turned to me, thrusting a meticulously manicured hand out toward mine. As I took her hand, I noticed it was smooth as silk, and her fingernails were painted a dark red color.

"Doctor Lori Reese," the woman said, as she finished our handshake. "Would you please follow me to my office?" She led us down a hallway, and into a somewhat spacious office. "Did you have any trouble finding us?"

"No, not at all," my mother said. "I'm hoping Doctor Betts faxed over everything."

Dr. Reese looked back over her shoulder as she held the door. "He sent over Bailey's record, and some of his notes." She smiled. "But I'd like to go over a few things, if that's okay?"

"That's fine," my mother said, as she moved to the desk.

I joined my mother, and together we took seats on one side of Doctor Reese's desk. Immediately I noticed the area rug covering most of the floor. Apparently Doctor Reese couldn't stand the boring carpet either. Her office had a nice view of one of the parks downtown. Which was good, as I tended to distract myself by looking outside during sessions with Doctor Betts.

"So…" Dr. Reese closed the door, and hurried over to her chair. "I understand you're seeking assistance with continuing your daughter's treatment?"

"Yes," my mother said. "I'm not sure what medical records you have…"

"Well, let's see," Dr. Reese said, as she flipped open a file. "I usually like to talk to the client first, but you mentioned having troubles." She studied it for a moment, as my mother recounted a few of our horror stories with doctors. "I see…" she finally said, as she glanced up at me. "So you're transitioning?"

"Yes," I said, affirming it with a nod. "I started over a year ago."

Doctor Reese glanced at the file. "And you identify as female…" She looked back up at me. "You've been living as a girl for an entire year?"

"Since last summer," I said.

"So there's no problem there," Dr. Reese said. "I don't understand why they would deny you after an entire year of treatment." She seemed absorbed in the file now. "It says here you received treatments the year prior to beginning your transition as well?"

My mother leaned forward. "Bailey went through an ordeal with a… less reputable doctor," she said, with slight disdain. "He lied about what was being administered."

Doctor Reese looked up at her; seemingly surprised. "May I ask what was being administered?"

My mother took a deep breath. "At the time, we thought Bailey was receiving a low dose of testosterone for what had been diagnosed as hypogonadism. However, we learned later that the doctor in question had been administering hormone blockers. As well as experimenting with other drugs, while trying to prevent Bailey's puberty. This all led to her developing a tumor, and an eventual forced orchiectomy."

"Which afterwards I decided to begin transitioning," I said.

"My goodness," Dr. Reese said, as she sat back in her chair. "I don't have all of that here in the file, but it does mention prior gender dysphoria." She cupped her hands over her mouth, and looked down at the desk. "That's horrible what happened to you."

I started to feel nervous. This is usually how it began with the other doctors that turned down our case. My mother would lay it all out there, and the doctor would begin to backpedal away from us. From the corner of my eye, I could tell my mother was starting to get nervous as well. She started to open her mouth, right as Doctor Reese looked up at me. She gave me a melancholy smile, and then looked over at my mother.

"Well, I don't see any problem continuing the estradiol," Dr. Reese said. "Are you having any problems with the patches?" she asked me directly.

"Just some slight skin irritation," I said, shifting nervously. "It goes away though. And they can be annoying sometimes. I'd prefer to go back to the sublingual pills."

"Well," she said, looking down at the file again. "You can discuss that with your doctor."

"I actually don't have a doctor," I said. "That's been part of my problem."

"Everyone we talk to wants to start the whole cycle over," my mother said. "Or they won't take her because of the past issues."

"Well I admit your case is quite unique to others I have experienced," Dr. Reese said. "However, I would consider it a health risk if Bailey didn't continue with an estrogen regimen. Because of the orchiectomy…"

My mother shifted uncomfortably, as if she had been the one to lose testicles. I imagine she had a hard time thinking about what had happened as well. She probably wanted to do the same thing to Tom, if the truth were told. Only with less ceremony, and more blood. I shook the thoughts of a psychotic mother from my head.

"I have no problem writing a letter for you though," Dr. Reese said.

"That's… wonderful news," my mother said. "Do you have any recommendations on who we should see?"

"Your general practitioner should be adequate. But if you'd like an endocrinologist, I can give you a few names," Dr. Reese said. "Is coming downtown a problem for you?"

"Well, I'd prefer closer to home," my mother said. "But if someone downtown is better suited, then that's fine."

Doctor Reese nodded her head, as she jotted notes down on my file. "Bailey," she said. "Do you have a preference on which gender?"

I straightened in my chair. "I'd feel more comfortable with a female doctor," I said. "If that's possible."

"It's certainly possible," Dr. Reese said, smiling. "I'd highly recommend Doctor Potter," she said, as she continued write. "She's very qualified in this area." She handed a piece of paper over to my mother. "Here's her information. Hopefully that helps."

"You have no idea how much you have helped us already," my mother said.

"That's what I'm here for," Dr. Reese said. "I've worked with quite a few others going through transition." She turned to look at me. "I understand everyone has their own circumstances, but they usually have one thing in common, and that's finding acceptance. That's hard enough to find, without constant roadblocks in your way." She focused on my mother again. "And it's always good to have a supportive member of the family through this time in your life."

"Is there anything else you need from us?" my mother asked.

"Actually," Dr. Reese said. "I have a few questions." She looked at me. "Are you wanting to continue therapy?"

I glanced over at my mother, then back to Doctor Reese. "I thought that was a requirement," I said.

"Well, since you've been living as your declared gender for over a year," Dr. Reese said, "you only need me to sign off on you." She gave me a serious look. "However, I would recommend continuing therapy."

"I think it's a good idea that she does," my mother said, patting my arm.

I looked up at her. "Really?"

"I learned a long time ago that my children won't tell me everything that goes on in their lives," my mother said. "So it would be comforting if you're at least talking to someone about those things."

After giving my mother a puzzled look, I turned back to face Doctor Reese. "I guess I'll continue therapy then," I said, adding a small shrug.

"Don't misunderstand," Dr. Reese said. "You could also join a support group. I don't want you to feel you have to continue."

"No," I said. "I want to. I think it might be good."

"Okay," Dr. Reese said, with a pleasant smile. "Would you like to see me for therapy? Or did you want to meet with someone else?"

"I'd like to meet with you," I said.

"In that case…" Doctor Reese turned back to my mother. "Seeing as how Bailey is a minor, do I have your consent to meet with her privately?"

"Yes, of course," my mother said.

"We can arrange some family sessions as well," Dr. Reese said. "If that's something that interests you."

My mother sat and thought about it for a moment. "We'll see about that," she finally said. "If anything just to see how Bailey's progressing."

"Sure," Dr. Reese said, as she made a note in my file. She slid a piece of paper across the desk to my mother. "This is just a standard consent form. If you agree to it, then please sign here, and initial there."

The room grew silent for several minutes. My mother read through the form quietly. Doctor Reese busied herself, organizing papers on her desk. I glanced out the window. The sun had begun to set, and beautiful pinks and purples streaked across the late afternoon sky. Eventually my mother signed the form and slid it back across the desk.

"Are there any other questions?" Dr. Reese asked.

"I can't think of anything at the moment," my mother said.

"Well if you think of any, feel free to ask the receptionist, or myself," Dr. Reese said, standing up from her chair. "I'll take you back to the lobby Mrs. Taylor." She strolled over to the door.

My mother stood. "Please call me Susan."

I started to join them, but Doctor Reese turned back to us. "I'd like to spend a few minutes with Bailey if you don't mind waiting?"

"Not at all," my mother said, strolling through the door.

"I'll be back in a few," Dr. Reese said to me. "You can have a seat on the sofa back there."

Doctor Reese disappeared through the office door. She had actually caught me a little off guard. Thinking this would be a simple meet and greet, I didn't really prepare myself to have a private chat with her. I also didn't expect her to be so young and pretty. As I made my way over to the sofa, I started to have reservations about my decision to see her for sessions. She could be too distracting.

When I first had my surgery over a year ago, the doctor had run through a list of side effects I would possibly see. One of them he mentioned was a decrease in libido. I didn't even know what that meant, and had to ask for a more detailed explanation. After he explained it, I took it to understand I probably wouldn't feel like having sex. Which at the time wasn't exactly on the forefront of my mind, but did worry me for later.

What the doctor failed to tell me, is that not everyone experienced those side effects the same way. If I had to be honest with myself, I actually thought about sex more than I had. Not that I'd become a wanking pervert in the park, or an adult star later in life, but that I became more and more curious about something that someone told me I might never feel like having. Sometimes I would get unusual peaks in intensity, that would diminish over time.

Since I started using patches over the summer, the curiosity maintained a healthy average. I assumed it had something to do with the amount of estrogen in me. Most of the time I would experience a serene, reflective state of mind; where I would admire beauty in an abstract sense. Sometimes I felt aroused. I still felt attraction to pretty women, and recently a few guys. Not only that, but my feelings for certain… aspects of people did not dwindle.

Doctor Reese strolled back into the office. She closed the door behind her, and collected my file from her desk. After grabbing a pen and pad of paper, she headed toward the area where I sat. My eyes were suddenly drawn to her shoes; a pair of strappy sandals that wrapped around her feet in too many directions to count. Her toenails were as meticulously groomed as her fingernails, and shared the same dark red polish.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, as she took a seat.

"I…" My gaze finally managed to work it's way up to see the quizzical expression across her face. "I was admiring your nail polish," I managed to get out, before sporting a mild blush.

"Oh…" She looked down for a moment. "Thank you. I thought you were looking at the floor, like you were sad, or something."

As she settled in her chair, I couldn't help but think of that being the worst impression I'd ever made. She probably thought I was a freak now. I just sat there and stared at her feet as she walked. Though I had developed a slight fetish, I wasn't as into feet as someone like Nathan Riley. He actually went out of his way to stare, and sometimes innocently touch feet when he could. I tended to mindlessly daydream at times, causing me to gaze in admiration.

Ironically, in this instance, I was more intrigued with the polish and the sandals, than her actual feet. Nail polish and shoes seemed to be my growing weakness. Quickly I tried to regain some kind of composure. However, for my current predicament, that meant staring at the window until she settled in her chair. I didn't want to be caught gawking at any of her other features.

"You seem distracted," Dr. Reese said. "Are you uncomfortable being here?"

"Hmm…" I turned to face her now. "No. I'm sorry. Maybe a little bit."

"Is it too cold in here?"

"No," I said. "If anything it's too warm. I just didn't expect…" I looked at her nervously.

"Would you be more comfortable with another therapist?" she asked. "Perhaps a male therapist?"

I shook my head. "I'm comfortable with a female therapist," I said. "My last therapist was female, but…"

"She wasn't as young?"

"She wasn't as pretty," I blurted out. "And I don't know why I said that."

"Oh…" Doctor Reese smiled. She perhaps even blushed while setting her pad down on her lap. "Bailey… The last thing we want here is to have you feel uncomfortable." She tilted her head and gave me a sincere look. "If you're not comfortable meeting with me, we can arrange --"

"No," I said. "I mean, it's fine." I took a deep breath to relax myself. "I'm just a little nervous, Doctor Reese."

"Call me Lori," she said. Then she smiled. "And it's Cherry Crush."

I looked at her with slight confusion. "What is?"

"The nail polish," she said, holding up her hand with her nails facing me. She winked at me, pulling her hand away to gather her notepad. "Are you absolutely sure you can handle being in a session with me? I don't want anything to hinder the process."

"I'll be okay," I said. "It's out in the open now, but I can set it aside."

"Okay," Dr. Reese said, as she gave me a pleasant smile. "How has your summer been?"

"My summer…" My gaze drifted off to the side. "It's actually been a little crazy with the move."

"How so?" Lori asked.

"Well for starters," I said, "My mom let me have my brother's old room. It's basically the entire basement. So I found that surprising. I figured she would want me upstairs, and as close as possible."

"Perhaps she's giving you space to grow," Lori said. "Both figuratively and literally." She studied me for a moment. "What's your room like? Did you change it at all?"

I closed my eyes and recounted the picture it in my mind. Not even a week prior to meeting Lori, had we finished my new room. The walls had been painted a soft seafoam green. There were shelves for books, and a desk, both painted white to accent the walls. Being almost twice the size of my former room, I had been given a queen-sized bed, and a larger dresser. Along the top of the dresser were assorted containers filled with nail polish, makeup and other beauty products. It felt like my own place within my home.

"What happened to your old room?" Lori asked, dragging my focus back to the small office.

"My mother is going to convert it into an office," I said. "She said she can do some of her work from home that way."

"How do you feel about that?"

I shrugged. "It's just a room," I said.

"There's no feelings associated with your old room?" Lori asked.

"I mean, it's a little strange not using it," I said, "but for the past year I've been sleeping in my cousin's former room. So it's like I haven't had it for a year anyway."

"I see," Lori said, making a note in her pad.

"What are you writing?" I asked.

Lori looked up at me with puzzled smile. "Did your last therapist tell you what they scribbled about you?"

"Well no," I said, "but that's an odd thing to make a note about."

"If you must know…" Lori said, still holding her bemused smile. "It's a positive observation." She leaned forward, putting her wrists on her knee. "Bailey, for this to work, you have to trust me. I understand that might be hard, given your past associations. But do believe me when I say that I've only got your best interests in mind." She flashed me a half smile. "Will you give me a chance?"

A small sigh passed over my lips. "Well… I haven't left yet," I said, quietly.

"I'm glad," Lori said, leaning back in her chair. "There's so many questions I'd like to ask you about the past two years."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Specifically?" Lori asked, rhetorically. "How are you coping with not having your stepfather in your life?"

"Tom can rot in prison," I said, without hesitation. "I'm doing just fine without him."

"Are you finding it hard not having a father figure around?"

I laughed slightly. "I wouldn't consider Tom a father figure," I said. "William was a far better father than Tom."

"William?"

"My aunt's husband."

"I see," Lori said, jotting again in her notepad. "Still… William is in another state now. It could be hard --"

"My mother and I will be fine," I said, rather defensively. "Can we talk about something else?"

Lori looked up at me. "We can talk about whatever you'd like," she said. "I'm simply trying to understand your past. If I've offended you with my questions, then I apologize."

"No… I'm sorry," I said. "I just… can't stand talking about him."

Lori scribbled another note. "I understand," she said. "Would you be willing to work on that?"

"What?" I asked. "Talking about Tom?"

"Yes," Lori said. "I detect some unresolved issues with him."

"I guess," I said.

"Okay," Lori said calmly. "I imagine things were quite different away from home."

"We had some fun times," I said, smiling as I recollected the last year.

"We?" Lori asked.

"My cousin, and some of her friends," I said.

In less than a minute, Lori had me talking about my adventures in Nebraska. At least, whatever you could call adventures there. Mostly it would be a trip to the lake, camping, or running around in the country. Honestly, it was like taking a vacation; getting out of suburbia and into nature. Either way, Lori had taken my mind completely off of Tom for the past several minutes.

"Who's Paul?" Lori asked, abruptly.

"Huh?"

"You keep mentioning Paul," she said. "Did you two have a special relationship?"

"Oh… I guess so," I said. "Paul was like my Nathan Riley, back in Nebraska."

"Nathan Riley?"

"Sorry," I said. "I keep forgetting this is all new information to you."

"Well…" Lori looked down at my file. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't have some notes from your old therapist. But I'd like to start fresh and hear everything from you."

"Okay," I said, straightening myself. "So… Nathan Riley lives down the street from me. He's technically the first one that knew I was… different."

"He knew you wanted to transition?" Lori asked.

"Well, at the time I didn't know what I wanted," I said. "But Nathan understood I was… looking, I guess?"

"And Paul knew this too?" Lori asked.

I sighed, looking out the window. "Actually, Paul never knew I was born male," I said. "Nathan does."

"So you're saying Paul shared some aspects of Nathan, but never knew you were transitioning?"

"Yes," I said. "Was it wrong not to tell him?"

"Bailey," Lori said, catching my attention. "I'm not here to assign blame." She looked up at me. "How do you feel? Do you think it was wrong?"

I sat for a long moment, reflecting on what Doctor Reese had asked. "I thought about it a lot," I finally said. "I still think about it. I keep wondering if our relationship would have changed. Worse… Better… All of that." A sigh passed over my lips. "Would things have stayed the same?"

"In my experience, not everyone has to know everything about you," Lori said. "But sometimes when secrets are revealed, you learn who your true friends are. Sometimes it changes nothing. Sometimes it changes everything. It's harder when the person is close to you. You feel like you have to tell them everything, even if it hurts."

"Exactly," I said. "I don't know how many times I went back and forth between telling him, and not telling him. Then I decided, if I move away… it wouldn't matter." I laughed inwardly. "Ironically, I'm right back in the same position with a new friend."

"Who would that be?"

"Amber," I said. "She moved in across the street over the summer. At first I thought she was a little annoying, but she really grew on me."

Lori nodded. "But you haven't told her?"

"No," I said. "Should I?" I asked, looking up at her expectantly.

"That is a question only you can answer," Lori said. "Let me pose a few questions for you though." She leaned forward. "Will telling her result in any harm to you, or anyone else? Do you find Amber to be an understanding individual? Would telling her make you feel more comfortable in your relationship with her?"

"Do you want me to answer those?" I asked.

"I want you to ponder those questions, until we see each other again," Lori said. "I like to set goals. Things for us to work on together. I'd like you to work on what you might say to people like Amber, if you absolutely had to." She slowly rose from her chair. "We'll have more time to talk about it next time. It was nice meeting you, Bailey."

"Thank you," I said, standing to join her. "It was nice to meet you too."

Doctor Reese strolled over to the door. She ushered me out into the hallway, and followed me up to the receptionist's desk. My mother saw us exit, and joined us shortly after.

"It was nice meeting you, Susan," Lori said. "I'd like to meet with Bailey at least once a month, for the time being." She nodded to the receptionist. "Linda can set that up for you." Finally she turned to me. "Bailey, it was nice to meet you as well. I hope you have a terrific first year of high school, and I will see you soon. Okay?"

I nodded. "Thank you, Lori," I said.

"Be safe," Lori said to both of us. "Oh, and if you want to stay out of rush hour for awhile, there is a nice little restaurant on the corner here."

"Thank you," my mother said. "Take care."

Doctor Reese nodded, and then retreated back down the hallway. We turned our attention over to setting up my therapy schedule. Linda, the receptionist, was just as polite as Lori had been. I had a good feeling about this place, and even felt a little guilty at snapping at Lori over Tom. Maybe she was right. Maybe I wasn't quite done dealing with Tom after all.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

Part 7

A lot can change over time. That's probably not the most profound truth, but it is rather relevant to my story. Take the weather, for instance. In a matter of four weeks, our town had gone from warm and sunny, to a sweltering heat wave. Now I stood outside of my house, shivering in a light sweater, skirt and tights; waiting for Nathan to pick me up for school.

Today marked the beginning of homecoming week. I had never been the type of person to set my aspirations high for such things. It had only been a couple of months since I moved back home, and I seriously doubted I had made an impact on anyone. Plus I happened to be a freshman, so I didn't expect to get asked to the dance. I also didn't plan on going to the dance, or the game, or participating in any of our so-called "spirit week" activities. But a lot can change over time…

I dropped my backpack at the end of the driveway. Then I perched myself atop it as modestly as possible. Skirts were nothing new to me, but I knew they sometimes didn't want to cooperate in certain situations. The past year had given me plenty of time to get acquainted with them. They were actually mandatory for my previous school's uniform.

I stretched my legs out in front of me, and crossed them at my ankles. Folding my arms across my chest, I did my best to huddle myself away from the sporadic cold winds. Layers probably would have been the better choice today. It was supposed to warm up later. A coat would have been too much, but what I had on seemed to be too little. Hopefully Nathan would arrive shortly.

The school bus was always an option. It sometimes came before Nathan, keeping him from backing out of his driveway. Most of the time Nathan tried to beat the bus, as he hated having to follow it out of the neighborhood. The driver of the bus caught on to our usual routine, and didn't even stop if he saw Nathan's jeep. There were a few times I had to catch a ride on the bus, though, but it wasn't the worst thing in the world.

My eyes moved across the street, eventually landing on Amber's front door. Ever closer drew the time for her to burst out of her house. Full of electric energy, she would sometimes skip across the street, as if she couldn't contain her enthusiasm to talk to me. I don't know what she found so special about me anyway. Yet, it always felt like she couldn't wait to see me.

As if on cue, Amber's front door swung open. She yelled something back into the house. Then she turned and exited, pulling the door shut behind her. I looked on with quizzical amusement, as I slowly made out what she had on. Apparently, spirit week meant more to some people than others. I guess Amber, being new in town, maybe felt obligated to fit in, and share in some of the traditions here.

"Seriously?!" Amber stated, from across the street. "Am I going to be the only one that shows up like this?"

I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but I was pondering her exact sentiment. Amber's light jacket kind of ruined the look, but it was obvious what she had on beneath it. She wore a cotton top and bottoms, colored with a soft baby blue, and covered with little clouds. On her feet were a pair of cute fluffy white slippers. Everything actually looked brand new, as if purchased for this exact occasion. And though her hair and light makeup seemed flawless, there was no doubt she was taking part in the get-up-and-go day.

"It's not too late to change," I said, glancing up the street. "I can ask Nathan to wait."

Amber stood across the street at the end of her driveway. She seemed to be contemplating the suggestion. I watched her teeter back and forth from one slipper to the other. A few times she even turned and looked back up at her house. She started to walk back up her driveway, but then turned around and came back to her spot. When I looked back up the street, I saw Nathan's jeep coming around the corner.

"I wouldn't hear the end of it," Amber said. "I fought with my mom just to get her to buy this." She gestured at the outfit.

Well that certainly answered one of my questions. "Seriously," I said, starting to stand up. "He'll wait if I ask him."

Amber looked up the street. She seemed to be frozen with dread as she watched Nathan's vehicle grow closer. I knew she had a crush on him. If she worried about being made fun of at school, she would be devastated if Nathan cracked a bad joke about her apparel. It didn't seem to matter either way though. All she could do was stand there like a statue.

"I need to know," I said, as Nathan's jeep came to a stop in front of me.

Amber could only muster a single word. "I…"

"What's with her?" Nathan asked, as I pulled the passenger door open.

"She's rethinking the whole spirit week thing," I said.

Nathan turned and rolled down his window. "I figured you slept in shorts and tees, army girl," Nathan said, cracking a smile.

"Uh… only when I'm feeling sexy," Amber retorted, snapping back to her normal self. She looked down at her attire. "These are warmer though."

"And cuter," Nathan said, still smiling at her.

Amber looked back up with a slight blush. "Th… thanks," she muttered.

"You gonna get in? Or are you taking the bus?" Nathan asked. When Amber gave a rather unsure look, Nathan added, "Trust me, you won't be the only one dressed like that today."

"You sure?" Amber asked, cautiously making her way to his jeep.

"Lot's of people do spirit week," Nathan said, as she crossed in front of the vehicle.

"Are you wearing anything underneath?" I asked, as I held the passenger seat forward for her.

"Leggings, and a tank top," Amber said, sitting down in the back. "Rules and all."

"Well," I said. "Worse case scenario… You get your shoes from your gym locker, and wear your jacket and leggings all day."

"Nobody just wears leggings as pants," Amber said.

"So you'll be a trend-setter."

I smiled at her as I dropped the seat back. She seemed to be in good spirits, after a little reassurance. So I climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door. After I had buckled in, Nathan took off down the street. We sat in silence for the most part, until we got out of the neighborhood.

"So…" Nathan said, attempting to start a conversation. "How was your weekend?"

"Mine was an ordeal," Amber blurted out. "Had to go with my mom to find the perfect lamp for the corner of our living room. Then we argued over this out… err… outside… chair. Ended up being a whole thing."

"Sounds rough," Nathan said. "Mine was typical. Workout and game video on Saturday. Then homework on Sunday." He glanced at me. "What about you?"

"Me?" I glanced out the passenger window. "I spent most of it finishing up my room. Finally got the closet finished last week, so I could move my clothes in."

"Nice," Amber said, including herself in the conversation again. She leaned forward, putting her hand on Nathan's shoulder. "So, are you going to the homecoming dance?"

"Probably," Nathan said. "It kind of depends."

"On what?" Amber asked.

"On… someone saying 'yes' when I ask her to go," he said.

"Oh," Amber said. "So you have someone in mind?"

I could almost picture her eyes batting, without even turning to look at her.

"Yeah," Nathan said.

"Who's the lucky girl?" I asked.

Nathan glanced over at me. I could tell this was a little uncomfortable for him. On the one hand, he had to know about Amber's crush. She was beyond obvious with it. Nathan wasn't exactly the type of guy that liked to crush people's feelings either. On the other hand, I was worried that he might actually ask me. That would have introduced even more problems. The least of which would be asking me in front of my friend that happened to have a crush on him.

"Well, I actually took your advice," Nathan said, glancing at me again.

"My advice?" I asked, surprised.

"You remember the other day?" Nathan asked. "When you pointed out the girl flirting with me?"

"What girl?" Amber asked, focusing on me, rather than him.

"Danica," Nathan said. "I was thinking of asking her."

"Danica?!" Amber muttered to herself, as she retreated back to her seat

"Oh…" I said. "The softball player?" I looked back at Amber, giving her a sympathetic frown. "I totally forgot about her."

"Yeah…" Nathan said. "I know she's a senior and all, but who knows? Right?" He glanced over at me once more. "I mean, if she likes me… she'll say 'yes,' right?"

"It's worth a shot," I said, shrugging. "She seemed to like you a lot."

Nathan gave me another look. "You're not upset, are you?"

"Why would I be upset?" I asked, snapping my gaze back to him.

"Well, I would've asked you," Nathan said, "but you said you just wanted to be friends and all."

"Friends can take friends to a dance," Amber muttered. "Friends can take friends' friends to a dance."

"If it makes you feel any better," I said, ignoring Amber. "I had no intentions of going anyway."

"Really?!" Amber said, shooting up in her seat. "Are you like… not going to do anything fun at school?"

"Hey!" I said, looking back at her. "For all you know, I could have other plans on Saturday."

"Do you?" Amber asked.

I turned back around, and settled in my seat. "No… But I could."

"I'm sorry, you two," Nathan said, pulling into the school parking lot.

"For…?" I said, looking at him.

"Well, obviously talking about the dance upset you," he said.

"I'm not upset," Amber muttered; her arms folded across her chest stating otherwise.

"I, for one, am happy for you," I said, thinking I had completely dodged a bullet for once. "I'm sure Danica will go with you."

"Yeah… totally," Amber said. Her focus was now set on seeing how many people wore pajamas to school. "You're a great catch. I'm sure she's pretty. Blah blah…"

"Well," Nathan said, giving Amber an odd look in the mirror. "If you two decide to go, I could give you a ride."

Amber scoffed in the backseat. "Awkward…"

"Yeah," I added. "It's a nice gesture." I patted his arm. "But you don't want two freshmen tagging along on your date with a senior."

"For sure," Amber said.

"I don't think this line is going to move," Nathan said, looking at the cars in front of him. "You two should probably get out here. Save you some time."

"Thanks for the ride," I said. "Yet again."

"You really don't have to thank me every day," Nathan said, chuckling.

"I don't have to," I said, opening the door and hopping out. "But I want to."

"What she said," Amber said, pushing to get out of the jeep. "See you later. Thanks for the pep talk, and all that." Following her remark, Amber took off in a hurry.

"Is she okay?" Nathan asked, watching Amber walk briskly toward the school grounds.

"Family stuff," I lied. "She'll get over it." I lifted my hand up to wave goodbye. "I'll talk to you later."

"Later," Nathan said.

I had to break into a slight jog to catch up with Amber. "You okay?" I asked, coming up behind her.

"I'm fine," Amber said, obviously not.

"Look," I said, touching her elbow. "The whole Danica thing was before I even met you."

Amber shrugged silently.

"It was before school started," I said. "When we were getting schedules."

"I'm not mad at you," Amber said. "If that's what you're thinking."

"Well, you're upset though," I said.

"Yeah," she said. "A little. But it's not like I made a move, or anything." She shrugged. "Would I have liked him to ask me? Yes, of course. But the odds of that…" She shrugged again. "I just had to get away from the awkwardness. Besides, he's a little… thick-skulled when it comes to picking things up."

"I can agree with that," I said, smiling. "He didn't even pick up on Danica flirting with him, until I said something."

Amber sighed dejectedly at me. "So you actually pointed it out?"

"I'm sorry," I said. "If I'd known…"

Amber put her hand on my shoulder to stop me from talking. "It's cool. He says he doesn't like girls that are forward," she said. "But doesn't pay attention to anything else." She shrugged once again. "But look who I'm talking to. He totally tossed you into the friend zone."

"What do you mean?"

"I would have asked you, Bailey," she said, in a mocking male tone. "But you're just a friend. Friends can't do stuff with friends."

"Wow," I said. "I did not take it like that at all."

Amber started to walk toward class again, this time with a much more reasonable pace. "I mean, it's cool if you just want to be friends," she said. "Seems like he's trying pretty hard to keep you at arms length though."

"I was kind of thinking I avoided letting him down back there," I said.

"So you don't like him?"

"I like him," I said. "But I don't want to go out with him, or anything."

"Oh…" Amber said. "I guess you're not in the friend zone then."

"What does that even mean?" I asked.

Amber glanced at me with an amused look. "You really don't know?"

I shook my head.

"I guess not everybody watches Friends," she said. "It means you really want to be with someone, but they either don't see it, or don't acknowledge it. They keep you around as a friend in the friend zone."

"Oh," I said. "So like… you and Nathan?"

Amber shook her head. "Sometimes I don't even think he considers me a friend," she said. "With him, it's more like the twilight zone."

We walked in silence for a short while longer. Eventually we reached the point where we had to split up for classes. Amber waved goodbye to me, without another word, and I returned the wave. Looking around the school grounds, I could see a little positive side note in the events of this morning. At least half the school participated in get-up-and-go day.

Ever since the seventh grade, I had always walked into science class with higher than normal expectations of it being a lab day. Whenever I saw the Bunsen burners out, or a big cart full of trays at the front of the room, I would get excited. I liked the change in pace, from having our heads buried in books all day. They were few and far between, but the labs worked wonders on breaking up the monotony. Unfortunately, today wasn't one of those days.

I slid into my seat near the far wall. Usually I wasn't this early to class. It got kind of boring waiting on the tardy bell. Most of the other kids didn't even show up until one minute before it rang. I contemplated a quick run to the water fountain, but talked myself out of it. After all, I had already settled in. Before long the room filled. A few students still chatted away, staying within diving distance of their tables.

The second to last bell rang, and my lab partner, Brendan, came rushing to his chair. My perception of Brendan had changed over the past few weeks. At first glance, he would appear to some as the typical skater boy. He had the shaggy hair, usually covered with a backwards ball cap. He always wore Vans, and most of the time had the hoodie and jeans style going. Most of the time he looked like he just woke up, which surprisingly he didn't partake in the spirit day's theme.

Brendan was anything but the typical skater boy, though. Ironically, he usually beat me to class. He wasn't even close to being a nerd type, but I could tell he prided himself on being an exemplary student. Today, however, he looked a little off. As he bent down to get something out of his bag, his shirt lifted a bit. I noticed a large bruise on his lower back.

"Jeez," I said, a little louder than it sounded in my head.

Brendan sat upright, wincing a bit from the action. He turned around to face me. "What?"

"That bruise on your back," I said. "Are you okay?"

"Oh that," he said. "I'm good." His face lit up a bit. "I was trying out this wicked kickflip into a nose grind, and then I went to land a one-eighty."

"I have no idea what that means," I said. "But I assume it didn't work out?"

Brendan chuckled, wincing a little at the movement. "Everything worked out perfectly," he said. "I nailed it! I just didn't account for one of my wheels catching on a rock afterwards."

"Ouch," I said, grimacing at the thought.

"Luckily I'm smart enough to wear pads and a helmet," he said. "So nothing else took damage."

"I wouldn't exactly preface that statement with 'luckily,'" I said, giving him a sly smile. "Still looks like you took a nasty spill."

He returned the smile, despite me poking fun at him. "I'll be alright," he said. Then he went back to digging his book out of his bag. I watched him place his book and a notebook neatly on the table in front of him. After a moment he turned back to face me. "Are you going to the dance?" he asked.

My mouth dropped open, and I sat there stunned for a few seconds. "I…" I looked him over. He seemed so hopeful. "I didn't plan on it," I said, honestly.

"Would you like to?" Brendan asked. "With me, that is?"

"Oh… jeez," I muttered, shifting uncomfortably. "I…"

"Unless you have other plans?" He leaned away from me. "It's cool if you don't want to."

"Honestly," I said. "I had no intentions of going."

"I see," Brendan said. "Not the dance type?"

I shook my head. "I'm flattered though," I said. "Are you sure you can even dance in your condition?" I flashed him another smile.

Brendan looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. "Would you like to do something else?" he finally asked.

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "Like see a movie?"

For a long moment I sat and stared at him; weighing my decision. His pale green eyes seemed to be filled with rapidly dwindling optimism. Brendan actually had some attractive qualities. He was pretty smart, despite probably taking a few shots to the head with his skateboarding. The fact that he happened to be a pretty boy, with longer hair than most, kind of appealed to me.

"Unless you don't like movies either," he added, after the extended silence.

"I like movies," I said, smiling. His awkwardness made me smile. "Sure," I finally said.

Brendan looked surprised. "Sure?"

"I'll go see a movie with you," I said.

"Really?"

I nodded.

"Cool," he said. "Did you want to go Saturday? Or…"

"I'll have to check with my mom," I said. "But Saturday would probably be fine."

"Awesome," Brendan said, right before the tardy bell rang. "Just… uh… let me know?"

I slid my notebook over to him. "Give me your number," I said. "I'll call you."

As I watched him write down his phone number, I reflected on the situation. I couldn't believe I had been so bold. Granted, Brendan was the one to take the first step and put himself out there. However, I amazed myself at how I took hold of the situation. Very seldom did I take the initiative to get plans rolling, especially for a supposed date. I even told the boy to give me his number, instead of giving out mine.

Brendan smiled as he slid my notebook back over; casually grazing my hand in the process. He constantly went out of his way to innocently touch me. A touch on my hand when he passed papers, or rubbing elbows during a lab. I thought it was weird and uncomfortable at first, but it didn't seem to harm anyone. Up to this point, I had merely tolerated it; contemplating asking the teacher for a change in seating. Now I knew that he was actually interested in me, and those casual little moments of contact were his subtle way of flirting.

The teacher walked to the front, demanding attention from the class. She began the typical routine; asking for us to pass our assignments from Friday to the front of the room. As she began teaching on our new assignment, I felt butterflies stir inside of me. The moment of Brendan asking me out had passed chaotically. Now I suddenly felt nervous about an actual date with him. It wasn't even a sure thing yet. I still had to ask my mother.

However, old fears began trickling in from the darkest recesses of my past. Brendan knew nothing of my past either. Unless he had caught wind of a rumor somewhere, he didn't know about my transition. Would this get serious? Would I have to tell him at some point? Should I tell him up front?

I glanced over at him, and he gave me a subtle smile. What if he knew already? That would be a rather awkward feeling. Suppose he knew about me, and that was the reason he wanted to go out with me. I subconsciously returned a smile, and quickly turned away. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself here. It wasn't even deemed a "date," after all. It's not like we had to get married at the conclusion of the movie either. I should just go and have fun; live in the moment.

Speaking of moments… Science class couldn't have ended a moment too soon. It seemed to drag on forever today, but finally the bell rang. After meekly reminding Brendan I would call him, I quickly headed for the exit. I had to get out of there before I hyperventilated. Zigzagging through the flood of students in the hall, I managed to get to a door that led outside. There I could take a breath of fresh air.

"What have I done?" I asked the chilly morning air.

My hand trembled as I reached out for the railing on the stairs. The building was only two stories tall, but it seemed like an epic climb down. I clenched the railing tightly. A few students brushed by me. Thankfully, not a lot of people used the back staircase. I needed the space at the moment.

Going out the front of the building would have made my trip to my next class a lot shorter. The fresh air did me some good, however. I had time to calm down; time to think. A date didn't mean boyfriend or girlfriend. Hell, we might not even like each other by the end. Perhaps I was even putting my expectations higher than Brendan's. A quick glance down at my hands, found them trembling.

Despite the negative connotation Amber gave to her explanation of the friend zone, I could always pull that card. It was a classic move to say we should just be friends. Worst case scenario, it could be played at the start of the date. Why did I keep calling it a date? I shook my head, as I pulled open the door to the next building. This could just be a case of two people hanging out; maybe to see if they'd make good friends.

"Friends," I thought. "That's exactly what I need right now. I need to talk to them about it."

"Hey babe," Tiffany said, as I slid into my chair next to her. "I see you skipped the whole pajama day too."

"Yeah," I said.

Looking her over, I could see that she somewhat participated in showing her school spirit. I never knew her to wear sweatpants at all to sleep in. In fact, out of all the girls I knew, she was probably the most feminine when it came to sleepwear. She even unwittingly introduced me to the luxuries of satin. Today, however, she used the opportunity to wear something comfortable to school; sweatpants and hoodie.

"At least you look comfy," I said.

"You look…" She tilted her head to look down my legs. "Dressy." Her eyes came back up to meet mine. "Trying to get someone's attention?"

"If I was, it worked," I said. "I just got asked out."

"Really?!" She leaned forward, clearly interested. "By whom?"

"Brendan Tucker," I said. "He sits next to me in science class."

Tiffany lowered her tone. "A boy asked you out?" she asked, slightly surprised. "To the dance?"

"No," I said. "To a movie." I took a quick glance around the room. For some odd reason this felt like a secret. "I told him I didn't want to go to the dance. So he asked if I wanted to do something else that night."

"Do you even like him?"

"He's… nice," I said. I cringed inwardly, thinking back on my conversation with Tawny. "Like he seems like an okay guy," I recanted.

"So… what's the problem?" Tiffany asked.

"I'm nervous," I said. "I feel I might have made a mistake. And I have all these questions in my head."

Tiffany put her hand on my arm. "Did you commit already?"

"I told him I'd ask my mother, and call him," I said.

"Well you still got options then," Tiffany said. "If you totally don't want to do it, just blame it on your mom saying no to the date."

"She might do that anyway," I said.

"True," Tiffany said. "Another thing you could try to do, is set it up as a group date." She shrugged. "Could help in getting to know him."

"Those always seem more awkward to me," I admitted. "My cousin dragged me along with her on group dates all the time last year."

"Well, there is a more awkward suggestion," Tiffany said. "Have a friend tag along." She chuckled. "Probably just as awkward as having your parents sit ten rows behind you."

"I don't know," I said. "I'm seriously considering option one."

Tiffany sat back in her chair. "I'd personally give him a chance," she said. "If anything, you might make a new friend." She shrugged. "Of course, if you tell him you can't date until you're sixteen, you can keep him at bay for the rest of the school year."

"That probably would've been something to mention when he asked though," I said.

Tiffany wrinkled her nose at me. "Yeah," she said. "You'd be a bitch to bring it up now." She gave me a playful smile.

"Shut up," I said, pushing her playfully.

"Anyway…" Tiffany eyed me for a moment. "Are you going to do anything for spirit week?" Her eyes trailed over my attire again.

"I don't know," I said. "I really don't see the appeal. They're all pretty stupid. Backwards day… Jinx day…"

"Tawny and I thought about doing twin day," she said.

"I could see that," I said. "You have about the same hair color."

"We could always dye yours black," she said, giving me a grin.

"I thought about going brunette before I came home. But I figured my mom would kill me," I said, giggling a little. I shook my head at Tiffany. "I'll probably do one of the stupid days this week though. Like red, black and silver day."

"That's the… spirit?" Tiffany rolled her eyes at me.

I shrugged as the tardy bell rang. "As long as Tawny doesn't give me pigtails again."

"Maybe you could dye your hair red, and just wear black and silver," Tiffany said.

"If I dyed it red," I said, "I could be Amber's twin."

"That's a scary thought," Tiffany said. "Two Ambers..." She smiled as she turned away.

Art class always seemed to be too short. It felt like we had just gotten into whatever project we were assigned, when we had to turn around and put everything away. The freshman art class felt like a recap, for the most part, of everything we had done in junior high. We were nearly a month in, and had barely made it into shading techniques. It was fun and relaxing, but I wanted to try something new.

The time seemed to fly. By the time I finished washing pencil smudges off of my hands, the bell rang for the end of class. It felt like it had been twenty minutes, instead of forty-five, but the clock didn't lie. Tiffany brushed by me, gently grabbing my arm above my elbow. She seemed to be pulling me over to her art locker. So I followed her.

"Bit of extra advice," she said. "Whatever you do, don't make the guy think you're into him, if you're not."

"I know that," I said, smiling.

"I'm serious," she said. "If you see it as nothing more than friends, that needs to be the first thing you say to him." She turned to face me head on. "In fact, there is nothing wrong with saying you want to be friends first. Regardless of where it goes. Don't feel like you're obligated to be someone else for him."

"Okay," I said. "You're starting to worry me."

"It's just… I'm worried about you," she said. "Maybe trying to experience things too quickly. Like we did before…" She turned to put the lock on her locker. "I mean, it's only September, and you have a date."

"It's not like I went around the science room asking," I said.

Tiffany spun around to look right in my eyes. "I just think that sometimes you agree to things, because you feel bad if you don't," she said. She looked away. "You did with me…"

"Hey…" I reached out and touched her shoulder. "You don't really think --"

"I need to get to class," she said, twisting away from me. "Call me later, kay?"

I hurried to lock up my art supplies. Then I rushed out of the classroom, trying to catch Tiffany. Instead, I ran into a swarm of students trying to get in and out of the room. All I could do was watch her disappear down the hall and around the corner. After talking to her, however, I decided to go with a different tact. Maybe instead of advice from an old friend, I needed to seek advice from a newer source; perhaps more of an acquaintance. I quickly hurried to my next class.

"Tracy," I said, sliding into my desk behind her. "I need your advice."

"My advice?" Tracy asked, turning to face me. "About what?"

"Dating," I said.

Tracy perked up. "Anything in particular?" she asked.

"See… this boy…"

"See!" Jason Coleman said, as he slumped down into his chair. "Even Bailey doesn't buy in to this spirit week bull."

"Hush you," Tracy said, slapping his arm. "We're talking."

"What about?" Jason asked, sliding his desk back closer.

"She's asking about dating boys," Tracy said.

"Oh…" Jason slid his desk back to its original spot. "Forget I asked."

"Go on," Tracy said, turning her attention back to me.

Glancing back and forth between Jason and Tracy, I felt a little hesitant about asking now. I decided to chance it. "So this boy asked me out to the movies," I said, lowering my voice. "And I'm a little nervous about it."

"Do you want us to double with you?" she asked, abruptly.

"What?" I sat stunned for a moment. "Actually…" My gaze fell over to Jason. "Are you two free Saturday?"

"Oh…" Tracy looked over at Jason. "We're going to the dance…"

I sat up straight. "Oh," I said, focusing back on Tracy. "Yeah… I should've realized…"

"Why don't you just go to the dance too?" Tracy asked. "Then you hardly have to be alone with the guy, if you don't want to be."

"It's not really that," I said. "Besides, I don't have a dress, or anything."

Tracy chuckled at me. "It's not prom," she said. "Just wear a nice dress." She glanced over my attire. "Even what you have on is fine. Though… maybe a little fancier top. Perhaps a dressy pair of heels, and --"

"I'm not going to the dance," I said, cutting her off.

Tracy shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said, turning around.

Before I could say anything more, the tardy bell rang. I slumped back in my chair. While I didn't expect much from those two, I didn't appreciate the "dance, or nothing" advice I got from Tracy. It would have been nice to take advantage of a double date though. Jason could be an ass at times, but had proven a few times that he had my back. I guess it was his little way of saying thanks for me hooking him up with Tracy. A quiet sigh passed through my lips.

English class was boring. Sentence structure… An overwhelming amount of talk about run-on sentences and why they shouldn't be used because they tend to confuse the reader and could easily be broken down into smaller segments but sometimes they work as tongue-in-cheek humor. There was only so much of it I could handle, but English classes always started the year off with the boring stuff. They always had to get into the perils of ending sentences with prepositions, before they ever got into what the class was really for. I eagerly awaited reading the stories.

That all being said, it wasn't long before the bell rang. I gathered my books, and quickly headed for the door. Tracy's advice, or lack thereof, left me feeling like avoidance would be the best option with her. She'd drag me to the homecoming dance if she had her way. If only to say that she got someone else to come to it. Her family had a long history of arbitrarily making school dances the most important events in life.

I sat quietly in my next class; legs crossed, arms resting gently on my geography book. Staring down at my nails, neatly painted with Cherry Crush, I began to ponder what I might say to Brendan if things did get serious. Maybe I had been a bit juvenile with my ambitions this year. I chose to come back home, and attend a school where it seemed highly likely the students would know about my past. There wasn't a day that passed without me worrying about my secrets getting out.

I'm sure most of them were probably floating around school already. Only a few people I trusted had the whole story. Anything else would be rumors and conjecture. It kind of surprised me nothing had been said before now; at least not to my face. If Brendan knew, then I worried about his reasons for asking me out. Yet, if he didn't know, I worried about how much time I had to tell him, before someone else got around to doing it.

For the most part, I had been lucky. There were a few students I knew from elementary school. With all of the changes to my name and appearance, it threw most of them off the trail. However, I wasn't blind to the distant, inquisitive stares. People I knew from junior high were beginning to piece things together. I could only hope that when it all exploded, it wouldn't be with hate and vitriol.

The tardy bell shook me from my thoughts. I happened to look over to my right, and caught Brent Kobb unabashedly staring at my legs. When he realized I had seen him, he didn't even try to hide it. He simply smiled at me, with his portly red face, and took another gander. I turned away, hiding my face behind my hand. Class starting didn't even seem to deter him from staring, as I caught him several more times over the next forty-five minutes. Eventually I tried to ignore him, but by the end of class it felt like his eyes were burning holes through my legs.

"Did you enjoy the show?" I asked, as the bell rang.

"Your legs look amazing in tights," Brent said, still staring at them.

"You should've taken a picture," I said, standing from my desk. "Would've been less creepier than your staring."

"Sorry," Brent said, clearly unapologetically. He stood to join me.

"No," I said. "You're not, or you would have stopped at some point."

"Can't you take a compliment?" Brent asked.

"Of course," I said, starting to walk away. "But you made it awkward."

Brent reached out to grab my arm, but I jerked it away. "What is with you?" I asked, backing away from him.

Brent backed off too, raising his hands in the air. "Whoa! Why are you going all crazy?"

"Don't touch me," I said, with a harsh tone.

"Okay," he said. "I just want to talk to you."

I pulled my geography book up against my chest. "If you want to talk to me," I said, "then walk me to my next class."

I moved for the door, hoping he wouldn't join me. Thankfully, I made it out into the hallway without him trying to grab me again. It wasn't long before Brent rushed up beside me. I'm sure he had to get one last gawk at my legs in, before his brain began to function again. He walked beside me for a moment, keeping a slight distance. There was an awkward silence between us, until we got outside.

"Can I carry your books for you?" he asked.

"I'm good," I said. "Thanks for offering."

Brent lifted his hand to scratch his head. "I'm sorry I stared," he said.

"Are you?" I asked.

"It's just…" Brent sighed. "I don't know. You wore something different today, and you stood out."

"You mean my legs stood out," I said.

Brent looked down at my legs again. "Well it is a good different," he said. "I can't help staring if someone's legs look that good."

I had to fight back a smile. "I figured as much," I said. I continued to hold my book tightly against my chest. "There are better ways to go about telling someone that."

"I guess… I'm a little shy," Brent said.

"And full of crap!" I exclaimed, laughing at him.

"What?" he asked. "Why?"

"Someone shy might steal a glance," I said. "But they sure as hell don't flash a grin when they get caught." I looked up at him. "And then keep staring."

"Fine," he said, his eyes shooting up to meet mine. "I'm not shy." He stepped in front of me, and walked backwards a few steps. "I think you're pretty," he admitted. "And I don't know… I thought maybe…"

I stopped abruptly. "No," I said, shaking my head.

My sudden halt in movement, caused Brent to have to backtrack a few steps. "No?" he asked. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"I have a pretty good idea," I said. "And you don't get to do that."

"Do what?" he asked, giving me a puzzled look.

"You don't get to turn this whole thing into something positive for you," I said, brushing past him. "You screwed up big time."

"Seriously?" he asked, catching up to me again.

"Seriously," I said, keeping my eyes forward.

"You won't even give me a chance?" Brent asked.

"Look," I said, as I came to a stop again. "I'm all about second chances. But I don't think --"

"So you'll go out with me?" Brent asked, sporting a confident smile.

My brow furrowed. I did my best to display a disagreeable glare at his ridiculous request. Quickly, I shook my head. "No," I said, with exasperation in my tone.

"So I totally blew it?" he asked, dropping his smile.

"You didn't blow it," I said, trying to throttle my prejudice. "Just… prove to me you're not a creep, and… maybe… I'll think about giving you another chance."

"How can I do that, if you won't go out with me?"

"Easy," I said. "Don't stare at me like a deranged serial killer, or try to grab my arm like you own me."

"Okay," Brent said. "I promise not to do that. Now will you go out with me?"

I rolled my eyes. "Let's just try being friends for now."

Brent scoffed at me. "Forget it," he said. "Stupid bitch, with your head games."

My mouth dropped open. Brent walked away from me, without giving it a second thought. He passed by a group of girls, shouting about how nice their butts were as he laughed. They shook their heads and walked away. Which is exactly what I should have done, when he opened his mouth. However, the entire interaction with Brent dismayed me more than it should have. I had trouble even getting through the door of the next building.

I continued my walk to Algebra class in stunned silence. It wasn't so much what Brent had said. I'd been called a bitch before; both playfully, and critically. That didn't bother me as much as the complete turn in his demeanor. He actually came off awkwardly comedic in his feeble attempts to turn me in his favor. At least, before I turned him down that is. Then the mask came off.

"So you actually talked to him after that?" Tawny asked.

Algebra class had flown by, and Tawny and I had settled in at our usual lunch table. I had been filling her in on my interaction with Brent. Of course, I had to take a brief moment to fawn over her absolutely adorable pajama set. It was actually on loan from Rachel, as Tawny had stopped wearing pajamas after eighth grade. However, she looked amazingly cute in the pastel pink set; with sheep leaping all over the soft material. She even had the fluffy wool slippers to match.

"I figured I'd give him a chance to explain himself," I said. "If nothing else."

Tawny took a bite of her apple. "And?"

"And… he was on a steady road to recovery," I said. "I was willing to let most of it slide. But all through his apology he kept asking me out. And he continued to stare at my legs."

"Gross," Tawny said, putting her apple back on the tray.

"What? The apple?"

"That too," she said, flicking it with her finger. "So what happened?"

"So I basically told him I'd think about it, if he could prove he wasn't a creep," I said. "Then he accused me of playing head games."

"Really?!"

"Yeah," I said. "His exact words were, 'stupid bitch, with your head games.'"

"What an asshole," Tawny said, before realizing how loud she had said it. She brought it down a few notches. "Jason was right. He really is a knob. Did you say anything back?"

I shook my head, as I poked at my food. "He walked away. Besides… I was too shocked at his one-eighty," I said, looking down. "Oh… speaking of one-eighty…" I looked up at her again. "I got asked out today by Brendan Tucker."

"Seriously?" Tawny asked, turning on her stool to face me. "What did you say?"

"I kinda said yes," I said.

Tawny looked thoughtfully at me for a moment. "He's in my English class," she said. "Not hideous either."

"He's pretty cute, actually," I admitted. "And he seems sweet."

"I gotta say… I never thought I'd see you go for a skater boy," Tawny said, looking back at her food as if she couldn't decide whether or not to eat more of it. "Honestly, never thought I'd see you go for a boy at all. You always seemed so opposed to the idea of it."

"I'm really nervous about it," I said. "Like… I don't normally go for boys. But I just seemed to take action, and I don't really know what to do now."

Tawny picked up a tater tot, but then decided against eating it. "When's the date?" she asked, tossing the tot back on the tray.

"See…" I said. "That's the thing. I don't even know if it's a date. Like… it wasn't officially stated as being a date."

Tiffany turned to face me. "What did he say when he asked?"

"Well he asked me to the dance at first," I said. "But I told him I don't like dances… more or less. So then he asked me to see a movie."

"Yeah…" Tawny finished off a bite of her food. "It's totally a date."

"You think?" I asked.

"If he asked you to go with him… alone," Tawny said. "Then it's totally a date. Phrasing is everything."

I sighed. "That doesn't make me any less nervous," I said.

"I'd be nervous too," Tawny said. "It's a pretty big step. If anything, I would've picked the dance."

"Really?" I asked, looking up at her. "Why?"

"Well…" Tawny took another bite of her food, and casually took her time with it before answering. "Dark room. Alone. Sitting next to a guy. Or dimly lit room. Surrounded by people. And able to hold him at arms length if you need to." She turned to face me again. "I mean, what do you do at the movie, if he tries to put his arm around you?"

"Jeez…" I said, looking down at my half-eaten tray of food. "The dance is sounding better and better. Maybe I should tell him I changed my mind."

"You mean, not go out with him?" Tawny asked.

"I mean, ask if he wants to go to the dance," I said. "It could be fun."

"If it helps in your decision, I'll be at the dance," Tawny said. "Rachel is dragging me there."

"Are you and Rachel…"

Tawny laughed. "Not even," she said. "Rachel's got her own thing going. She just likes to drag me along. Dances. Pool parties. Cheerleading clinics. Cheerleader gatherings." Tawny decided to take another chance with her apple. "Anyway… I'll probably just hang out with Tiff all night. She said she'd go if I go." She sank her teeth into the apple, and chewed it for awhile. "But hey… if you go, I'll save a dance for you."

"Thanks," I said, smiling at her.

I spent the rest of lunch time, picking apart my food, and listening to some of Tawny's issues. Apparently, her parents were fighting a lot with her older sister, Lynne. She had always been on the rebellious side, but now she was threatening to move out. Unfortunately, she was wanting to make a statement of it, and move in with two older guys. Her parents were having a tough time trying to juggle the problem.

Honestly, I didn't know what advice to give Tawny. My own brother, Justin, had gone through something like this the year before. The second he turned eighteen, he cashed in his savings bond; left to him by our father. Then he quickly packed up his things and moved out with a couple of his former football teammates. He wasn't even far away, but I didn't want to visit him. Mainly because those former teammates were the ones running me down to Nathan, behind Justin's back.

All I could do was listen to Tawny; try to understand what she was going through. At least, as far as anyone knew, Lynne didn't have problems with alcohol. Justin struggled with that. It would even be weird to go over to their house, and not witness Lynne and Tawny having a battle of wits. The two were always at each other's throats, but at least they made it entertaining.

"So…" Tawny said, as we gathered up our trays. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Actually," I said. "I don't know if I'll be seeing two of you, or two of Tiffany."

"Oh… right," Tawny said. "Twin day. So looking forward to that."

I laughed at her sarcasm. "I thought cheerleaders were supposed to be all about school spirit," I said.

"Yeah," Tawny said. "Go us… Team and such…"

"You already tired of it?" I asked, as I dumped my tray.

"It's alright," Tawny said. "I figured I'd get to do more tumbling." She dumped her tray. "But they only do that on junior varsity and varsity. Freshman cheerleading is kind of boring." She dropped her tray in the collection bin, on top of mine. "Just chanting, and kicking."

"At least you look good in the uniform?" I offered, giving her a smile.

Tawny rolled her eyes. "I'm thinking of going back to gymnastics until junior year," she said. "I've been having a lot of fun working with the kids too."

"That's cool," I said, beginning my walk to the next class. "Might as well do what you enjoy."

"Yeah," Tawny said, joining me. "I know Rachel will give me crap about it." She shrugged. "But I wasn't doing it for her anyway."

"I wish I could say that about certain things in my life," I said. "That I wasn't doing them for others."

"You eventually found your way," Tawny said. "Despite the bumpy road." She looked over at me. "And none of us expected you to get hurt by any of it."

"I know that," I said. "We were all just having fun, and then…"

"Things got serious," she said.

"Yeah…" I stopped at my locker. "Still… I wouldn't change any of it."

Tawny studied me for a moment. "I think there would be a few things I'd change," she finally said.

"Like what?" I asked, while digging through my school books.

"Not exactly enough time for that discussion," Tawny said. "I gotta get to class." She put her hand gently on my shoulder. "Later."

I turned my head over my shoulder. "Later," I said.

Tawny's statement had me wondering about what exactly she would want to change. I watched her walk away for a moment, considering the possibilities. Maybe she meant things about herself. I never knew with Tawny. She had to be the most complicated person in my circle of friends. Even Amber no longer baffled me. I knew exactly what made that girl tick now. Tawny, on the other hand, could change directions faster than a hummingbird.

I shut my locker, and headed for my next class. Music Appreciation was the most laidback class I had. We could sit anywhere we wanted. Everyone called it an easy A, or clap-for-A's. I appreciated music, but I also appreciated the spot in which the class took place. It helped me unwind from the first part of the day, before drama class got me wound up again. So I called it my buffer class. Unfortunately, there were days when drama overran that buffer.

"What do you think about all of this Y2K stuff?" Carla asked, as she grabbed my arm and pulled me over to a chair.

Carla lived on the street behind me, and had for years. I never really knew her, until Nancy decided to be friends with me. Carla simply got dragged along for the ride. The two of them were nearly inseparable. Sometimes they had their little spats, but they were like Laurel and Hardy; only the stranger female version. Nancy held grudges with others, however, and kind of took it personally when I disappeared for a year with no word. Carla seemed to forgive and forget; not even needing the whole story.

"Y2K?" I asked. "The computer thing?"

"It's not just computers," Carla said. "According to this article I read, the whole banking system is probably going to collapse. It could be the end of the world!"

"Carla…" I looked at her thoughtfully. "Was the article in a fashion magazine?"

For as long as I had known her, Carla always had the latest fashion magazine at hand. She loved staying educated about the latest fashion trends. Most of the time, however, she couldn't participate in them. Her family didn't have a lot of money to spare on the latest trends. I guess they figured the magazines were cheaper than the outfits in them. The problem with Carla's fashion magazines, though, was sometimes the articles got her imagination running wild. I worried this was one of those times.

Carla shook her head. "No," she said. "This is a serious thing, apparently. People are stocking up on food and stuff."

"Carla," I said, putting my hand on her arm. "I'm sure they'll get it all sorted out."

"I hope so," Carla said. "I'd like to finish high school."

I smiled at her. "We'll be fine," I said, giving her a wink. It must have been nice to have high school graduation as the biggest concern in life. I glanced across the room. "I think Nancy wants you."

Carla looked across the room at Nancy. "I don't know why she won't talk to you," she said. "It's not like you really abandoned her."

"I should've called," I said. "A lot of people."

"It's not like she didn't have other friends," Carla said, standing up. "Like me."

"Hey," I said, gaining her attention. "Got any Y2K fashion tips?"

Carla's eyes lit up. "I do!" she said. "I'll stop by later this week."

"Sounds good," I said, giving her a smile.

"Talk to ya later," she said, hurrying away.

The next forty-five minutes passed by with rhythmic applause. At least that's what it felt like most days. While the class was fun and all, it could get boring pretty fast. I figured it would be more lectures on music. Or perhaps listening to music and giving our thoughts on it, or even writing reports. Eventually it ended, and I found myself in my wildcard class; drama.

"I have had the worst day," Amber said. She plopped down next to me, dropping her bag on the floor.

"The whole thing with Nathan this morning?" I asked.

Amber looked puzzled for a moment. "Oh, that," she said, waving her hand. "Nah. That was just the base layer on the whole shit outfit." She pulled a notebook from her bag, and looked at me with her eyes wide. "Do not mention I said that in front of my dad."

"No worries," I said, chuckling. For the short time I'd known her, Amber had introduced me to some of her dad's favorite sayings. They were interesting, to say the least.

Amber went back to digging in her bag. "First hour I realized I grabbed the wrong folder from my locker," she said. "And the teacher wouldn't let me go back and get my assignment."

"Oh, that sucks," I said, watching her sit up in her chair.

"He told me I could turn it in tomorrow, but it would be marked down for being late." She rolled her eyes. "Then our gym teacher lost track of time, so we had like two minutes to shower. So I basically bathed in shampoo."

"I was wondering what that was," I said, giving her a half smile. "You smell good."

"Thanks," she said, pausing to smile. Then her smile quickly dropped. "But yeah… I felt weird all morning. Like too silky, or something." She held her foot up. "Also, slippers suck. I kept stepping out of them all day, and my feet were cold." She let out an exaggerated sigh. "I'm probably not doing this again. But whatever… How was your day?"

"Um…" I gave her a wincing look. "Not good." Then I thought about it. "Well some of it could be good," I recanted. "There was a part in the middle that sucked."

"Find your seats, quickly!" Miss Castile shouted, as she hurried up onto the stage. "We have a lot to get through today."

"Well I, for one, hope the sucky parts are over," Amber said.

"I'll tell you about it later," I said.

"Take the bus home," Amber said. "So we can talk."

"Uh… sure," I said. "I don't want to talk on the bus though."

"Nah," Amber said. "We can hang out on my porch."

"Alrighty," I said.

Jillian hurried over to us. She sometimes talked to other sophomores before the bell, but for some reason liked sitting with us better. Looking around, I couldn't find Tiffany anywhere in the auditorium. Usually Tiffany would beat Amber here, if anyone, but now she was running dangerously close to being tardy. I looked over at the door, and saw her nearly dive into the first chair; right as the tardy bell rang.

I leaned over to Jillian. "I'm going to take the bus today," I said.

"Okay," Jillian said. "I wanted to ask you something though."

"What's that?" I asked.

Miss Castile waved her hands over her head, trying to get the attention of the class. "Quiet please!" She shouted. "Settle down…"

"I'll ask you later," Jillian whispered.

I nodded silently, turning my attention back to Tiffany. After a bit of effort, I managed to catch her attention, and gestured for her to come join us. She carefully got up from her chair. Then she slinked down the row she was seated on. Nobody seemed to take notice of her moving along. Eventually she made it to the aisle, and hurried across to take a seat on the other side of Amber.

"Today I'm going to be assigning you to groups," Miss Castile said, from the stage. "Think of it like your theater support group. You'll be working on projects with these groups, and also critiquing each other on other assignments." She held a notebook up over her head. "Now this class has thirty-six students, but it's a rather odd ratio of ladies to gentlemen. At least compared to my other classes. So instead of groups of four, we'll be doing groups of six."

"We probably screwed ourselves on this," Jillian said quietly.

I turned to her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, she probably sees us sitting back here together every day," Jillian said. "So she'll probably split us all up."

"I was kind of hoping we could pick our own groups," Amber said, with a pout.

"Maybe we still can," Tiffany interjected.

"Now," Miss Castile said, drawing our attention. "I'll be assigning the groups. Five of the groups will be four ladies, and two gentlemen. One lucky group will be three and three." She eased herself down on the front edge of the stage. It seemed like her favorite place to perch. "I want you all to feel comfortable for the most part, but also branch out a little," she said. "So… without further ado…" She gestured to two guys sitting together down front. "Could you two gentlemen join the ladies in the back?" Miss Castile held up her other hand, gesturing toward us.

"Wow," Amber said. "That was painless."

"For the most part," I said, watching Vince stand up. He was joined by another boy named Nick; which was about all I could remember about him.

Little by little, Miss Castile divided us into groups. She somehow managed to keep groups of friends together. "As you can see," she said. "I'm not heartless. I'm giving most of you the chance to work with someone you know." She held up her finger. "But be warned! If I find any of you slacking off, we will go another route."

"I cannot believe how cool she is," Amber said.

"Take a moment to get to know each other, if you don't already," Miss Castile said, her voice projecting throughout the auditorium. "I'll be going group to group, handing out critiquing sheets. Starting today we're going to be working on stage presence."

"Ugh…" I groaned. "I don't think I'm ready for working on stage presence."

"It's probably not that bad," Nick said. "Just basic exercises."

I looked over at him. "Like…?"

"Like she'll probably just have us read something," Vince interjected. "Maybe work on posture."

"Sounds fun," Amber said, offering her hand to Vince. "I'm Amber."

Thus started the introductions. Amber, Jillian, Tiffany and I introduced ourselves to Vince and Nick. I even managed to forget for awhile my past with Vince. Sure, he took advantage of the situation with Tiffany, but I put them in that situation. I thought it would help us all out. Both of them needed their parents off their backs. I needed space to cool off, and think things over. Now, however, it seemed I had a lot more to think about.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...

Part 8

Most of the chill from the morning had left by the time I got home from school Monday. The weather had all settled into a rather comfortable mid-September afternoon. From my perch on Amber's front stairs, I could see all the way down the hill to the stop sign. She had gone inside to change out of her pajamas. I still couldn't believe she wore them all day long for some stupid spirit week thing.

Amber had expressed her concern about leaving me outside. Her parents weren't home, and they had a rule that she couldn't bring friends in if they weren't home. I didn't have that rule at my house. However, I didn't really want Amber camping over there all afternoon. I still needed to call Brendan. Plus I still needed time and space to figure out what I wanted to say to him. Not to mention, I needed to talk it over with my mother.

With all of that coursing through my brain, I hardly noticed Amber returning. She wasn't exactly subtle either. The first thing I noticed was her black Converse solidly slapping down on the step next to me. She'd changed into her usual casual attire; worn baggy jeans, flannel shirt over some faded rock band tee, and a knit skull cap. When my gaze had traveled up to her face, I noticed she was studying me.

"What's up?" I asked.

Amber sat silently for a moment, a trait not entirely common with her. "I'm curious," she finally said.

"About what?"

"Well…" Amber looked at me thoughtfully. "I'm not sure how to say it. Or ask it rather."

I let out a half laugh. "When has that ever stopped you?"

"I know. I know," she said. "Always impulsive." Her head tilted to the side. "It's just…" She turned away. "It's nothing."

I tugged on her shirt sleeve. "Amber," I said. "What is it?" I studied her for a moment. "Is it about Nathan?"

"Nooo," Amber said, as she turned back to face me. "It's stupid. Just forget it."

"Amber," I said, looking at her sternly.

"Okay," she said. "I was just wondering about you and Tiffany."

"Oh," I said, letting out a sigh of relief. "What about us?"

Amber shrugged. "It's just that, when we were discussing the group project today, you two looked… I don't know… very comfortable."

"Well we've known each other for years," I said.

"It was more than that," Amber said. "I don't know." She shrugged. "I told you it was stupid."

"I hope we didn't steal all of the spotlight," I said. "So to speak."

"It was you," Amber said. "Wasn't it?"

"Me?"

"Tiffany talked about having a friend she used to make up games with," Amber said. "I remember it from the first day of class." She turned to me. "You were the friend that went away."

"Yes," I said, solemnly.

Amber sighed. "Sucks doesn't it? Being pulled away from friends like that."

"Usually at the worst times," I said, sharing in her melancholy.

"My dad promised he'd let me stay here for high school," Amber said. "We'll see. He said the same thing for junior high." She sighed again. "Just gotta stay positive."

I reached my hand up, in an attempt to put it on her shoulder. To my surprise, Amber made a move toward me. Her head nestled against my shoulder. In the confusion, I ended putting my hand on her opposite shoulder, and holding her in a friendly hug. It didn't feel too awkward. At least, not until Amber reached across my lap and put her hand on my knee.

"You okay?" I asked.

"It's just…" I could feel Amber taking a deep breath. "Watching you and Tiffany. It made me wish I could see some of my old friends again."

"Do you ever call them?"

Amber shook her head against my shoulder. "I've emailed a few," she said. "It's just not the same. You know?"

"Yeah," I said, running my hand over her upper arm and shoulder.

Amber sniffed, making me think she was crying. "These are soft," she said. I looked down to see her casually making circles on my knee. "You know, I've never worn tights," she admitted.

"Really?" I asked. "Not even when you were little?"

"Nope," Amber said. "Are they comfortable?"

"I guess that's debatable," I said. "I think they are."

"God," Amber said. "You're so freakin' femme."

I had to choke back my surprise at her statement. "What are you talking about?" I asked.

"It's not an insult," Amber said, sitting up. "I kinda wish I could pull it off sometimes. You know?"

"Pull what off?"

"The whole package deal," Amber said. "Being all stylish. Having guys wrapped around your finger. Some girls just have it all together."

I giggled.

"What?" Amber asked. "Do you think I'm being stupid?"

"No," I said. "It's just… It's cute that you think I have it all together."

"Well, you seem to," Amber said.

"Trust me," I said. "I've got more issues than a city planning committee."

"See!" Amber said. "You can even toss out witty shit like that."

"It's just something my mother says," I said.

Amber raised her eyebrows.

"If you only knew…" I said, looking into her eyes.

"Can I…" Amber looked away. "Nah. Forget it."

I shook her shoulder; my arm still embracing her for some reason. "What?"

Amber turned her head back to face me. Her eyes danced as they looked into mine. "I was going to ask," she said. "If it wouldn't be too weird."

"Just ask it," I said, quietly.

"Could you help me put together an outfit?" she asked. "Like maybe something that would get Nathan's attention?" She sighed. "I feel like I'm invisible around him."

"If you want to get his attention," I said, with a laugh. "Just go barefoot."

Amber looked at me puzzled. "Huh?"

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head. "I really don't know what would get his attention." I let my hand drop from Amber's shoulder. "Not even sure clothes would do it."

"Oh," Amber said, dejectedly.

"He's not exactly typical," I said. "Like he plays football, but talking about sports doesn't really seem to stimulate him."

"Well you guys have history, right?" Amber asked. "There's gotta be something I could do to change the way he looks at me."

"Don't… change for him," I said. "That's probably the best piece of advice I can offer."

"I'm just afraid he thinks of me as the big-mouthed army brat," Amber said. "And not in a good way." She let out a long sigh. "It's probably too late anyway. He probably asked that… Danica chick out already."

"I just had a thought," I said.

"I can drive, and do the heavy lifting," Amber said. "If you bring the duct tape."

My head tilted to the side as I stared at her. "What?"

"Nothing," Amber said, turning her gaze away.

"Anyway…" I continued to look cautiously at Amber. "Everyone seems to be going to this stupid homecoming dance. Why don't I change my plans with Brendan? And then we take Nathan up on his offer?"

Amber flashed me an unsure look. "Tag along with his date?"

"Just riding there and back," I said.

"Wait," Amber said. "Are you thinking of sabotage?"

"No!" I exclaimed. "I just thought that he'd have to pick us up first." I raised my eyebrows at her. "He'd see you dressed all fancy…"

"Then he'd see you in a dress," Amber said, "and I would wither in the immense light of your beauty."

"Stop," I added sarcastically.

"It's hard!" Amber whined. "You'll be with Brendan. Nathan will have his date. Probably thinking about you all night. And I'll just be stuck alone at the dance."

"You can hang out with Tiffany and Tawny," I offered.

Amber let out a long sigh.

"But on the way there," I said, trying to remain positive. "You could hint that you'd like to dance with Nathan."

"And listen to the tormenting sound of his laughter at my request."

"You're impossible!" I exclaimed, pushing her away.

Amber looked at me with reservation. "Can we at least try the sabotage idea?" she asked quietly.

"No!"

"Fine," Amber said, begrudgingly. "I'll think about it." She looked down the street, gesturing to a moving car. "My mom's coming. If you wanna come in for awhile."

"I actually have quite a bit of homework," I said.

"Ah," Amber said, turning back to me. "Well… I guess I'll see you tomorrow then." She jumped to her feet. "I won't be doing any spirit week crap at least." She looked down at me. "Unless you wanna be twinsies?"

I shook my head. Amber shrugged. Then she reached out her hands toward me. Without thinking much about it, I placed my hands in hers. Suddenly it felt weird though, as she was helping me stand up. The act itself was innocent enough; a friend helping another friend stand. However, it brought this strange feeling, as if I was the helpless girl in the skirt that couldn't stand on her own.

My mind not quite off of the thought, I walked with Amber down the stairs to her driveway. Her mother had finished pulling into the garage by the time we reached the bottom. I waited for a moment, thinking it would be impolite to just run off without saying hello. Amber's mother opened the car door. Both of her low heel shoes hit the concrete floor before she even attempted to get out.

I had only seen and talked to Amber's mother on a few occasions. She was a bit quirky, and normally busied herself around the house doing chores. When Amber said she was a "typical housewife," it was really an understatement. Her mother was like super housewife. She kept the house spotless, seemed to always be cooking, and could juggle houseguests like it was her job. Beyond that, she actually prided herself on it, and enjoyed being the one to take care of her family and home.

"Amber," Mrs. Miller said, as she stepped around the car. "Groceries."

Mrs. Miller handed off the keys to Amber, and stepped out of the garage. I took a moment to admire her attire. She wore a pale orange boatneck dress, with a loose skirt that fell to mid calf. A matching light jacket covered her shoulders and arms. The look was complimented by a pair of light brown shoes. She was completely in style, yet at the same time, very modest with her look. I found it hard to believe Amber lived with her, without adopting some kind of feel for more feminine attire.

"Bailey," Mrs. Miller said, walking right up into my personal space.

"Hello Misses Miller," I responded. Amber's parents hated non-adults calling them by their first names. "I was just heading home."

"Oh," she said, giving pause.

I stood there awkwardly for a moment. "I like your dress," I offered.

"Thank you dear," Mrs. Miller said. "I was about to compliment you on your attire." She turned to see if Amber was within earshot, before turning back to me. "You're certainly staying with the times," she said a little louder. "If only some of your style could rub off on my Amber."

I glanced at Amber, only to see her rolling her eyes as she walked past. "Well," I said. "She certainly has a style all her own."

"Yes…" Mrs. Miller turned half of her body and watched Amber carry groceries up the stairs. "If you can call it that. I'm afraid we spent too much time on the west coast during her more… impressionable years."

"Well, I don't want to keep you," I said, taking a step back.

"Bailey," Mrs. Miller said, turning back to face me. "I'm having a small dinner party on the second of November. It's a Saturday." She smiled at me. "It's semi formal. Just getting to know a few of the neighbors. Would you mind passing the word along to your mother?"

"Of course," I said. "She would probably enjoy getting together."

"You're invited too, of course," Mrs. Miller said. "I'm sure Amber would appreciate having a friend there."

"I'd be delighted," I said, trying to feign a smile.

"Splendid," Mrs. Miller said. "Please have your mother call me about it."

"I will," I said.

"Well I'll let you run along," she said. "Have a nice day."

"You too," I said. I looked up to see Amber coming back down for more groceries. "Bye Amber," I said. "See you tomorrow."

"Take care," Amber said.

I hurried across the street before I got invited to Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners as well. With the front door closed behind me, I made sure it was locked before heading further into the house. My mother had rearranged her schedule since the summer, in an effort to be home with me more on the weekends. However, she still worked through rush hour most nights. She hated driving in traffic, which basically meant I was alone in the house until about six to seven o'clock most nights. It was a little scary, but I tried to busy myself with homework until then.

Reaching down, I gathered up my book bag from the entry way. I had dropped it off inside before running over to Amber's house. The house appeared to be empty. I cautiously climbed the stairs; staying on the balls of my feet to cut down on any unwarranted noise. Ever since I returned home, I had been left with this weird feeling that we would one day have one of Trevor James' lackeys break in to our house. So every day I made sure to check the back door, and see that the house was empty before settling in.

Honestly, I don't know why my mother decided to keep this house. Every single one of Tom's associates knew where we lived. If any of them ever sought retaliation, they knew right where to find us. So I might have been a little scared, and a little overly cautious. Granted it was good practice to check your house for invaders, but I had started becoming obsessive about it. I would first listen at the front door for any unusual sounds. Next I would always creep up the stairs, and check our sliding glass back door. Then I would go down the hallway, stopping at each door to check the rooms.

Once I had been completely convinced there were no monsters lurking about upstairs, I would retreat down to my room in the basement. I even had my own little routine down there. The first thing I would do is check my bathroom and closet for anyone hiding. Then I would return to my door and close myself inside; wishing dearly I had a lock. It felt really stupid for the most part, but I felt better knowing I had at least checked around.

I really had no plan of what I would do if there was someone in the house. At fourteen I weighed all of one-hundred and fifteen pounds. My five foot four inch frame was barely a lethal weapon. The only defensive weapon I had, most days, happened to be my school bag. I seriously doubted hitting a full grown man with a bag would deter them for more than a few seconds. Although, it might give me just enough time to get to an exit. Especially if I aimed low.

A small part of me wished Justin had stayed at home. I wouldn't have this awesome new room, but at least there would be a little more protection around here. That is, of course, if he wouldn't be at work too. My mother and I had discussed getting some sort of house alarm, but she wasn't exactly in a rush to spend money on one. I expressed my concerns with her, and she simply told me to keep my eyes open for anything suspicious. However, she didn't seem to think we were in any real danger.

Truth is, neither of us knew at all what Tom or Trevor were capable of doing. Yes, we knew they smuggled drugs, but other than that, we didn't know what else they had gotten involved with. We allegedly had taken down the mastermind; Trevor James. Yet, I had seen some movies where the bad guys have methods to reach people outside of prison walls. So it wasn't like it was all in my head. There was potential for real threat. It might have been a long shot, considering I wasn't the reason at all why they got caught, but they could always lash out.

Tossing my school bag onto my bed, I sat myself down on the foot of it. I took another brief moment to listen for footsteps. The house answered back with silence. Finally, I felt convinced that I was alone. I reached down and slipped my chunky heels off. It actually felt good to be free from them. They weren't exactly five inch stilettos, but then again, I wasn't exactly used to wearing heels.

Today had been the first day I wore any sort of heeled shoe to school. At least the first I'd worn them to high school. My wardrobe boasted quite a few pairs of them, but I had held off for the first few weeks. It never bothered me to wear them to school last year. Then again, last year I had been in only one building; carpeted for the most part. There happened to be a lot more ground to cover at my new school. Plus we had to go outside to get to other buildings.

I felt short at school though. I'll admit, most of it was in my head. The girls my age were actually around my height. Even Amber barely had an inch on me, and she was one of the taller ones. The upper classmen, on the other hand, made me feel like a little kid walking amongst them. For the record, I didn't want to be extremely tall. When the doctors told me I might be taller than average, because of the orchiectomy, I had this thought in the back of my mind that I'd be a giant.

That being said, I didn't want to be super short either. I had personal hang-ups about being looked down upon. Basically, I just wanted to fit in. I wanted to be average when it came to height. After being on hormones for a few months, I was happy to hear that my height might even out after all. My doctor, at the time, projected that I'd most likely hit the five foot eight mark. Which actually sounded like good news to me.

I spun myself up onto my bed. A queen size bed had been the major selling point on switching rooms. Up until last year, I had always had a little bed in a little room. Not to be ungrateful, because I at least had a bed to sleep in at night. However, the bed my cousin had left behind, left me absolutely spoiled. Her bed felt like an enormous cloud; one I would sink into and be carried away from my worries for awhile.

I absolutely loved her bed. For once, I could roll over and not be met with the edge of the bed to either side. It felt so big and safe; like a giant hug. So when my mother suggested I could get a new bed, that's all I could think about. It had taken a little over three weeks to get my room completely finished. My mother's friend couldn't even get around to doing the closet for two weeks. Once the bed was set up, however, I was instantly happy. Everything else simply seemed like extra little bonuses.

Staring up at the ceiling, I took a moment to daydream. It took everything in my power to keep my mind off of the impending phone conversation with Brendan. I still didn't know why I said that I would call him. That wasn't like me at all. Eventually I sat up and pulled my school bag with me over to my desk. I didn't exactly lie to Amber. While I made it seem that I had so much homework that I couldn't hang out, I did have a fair amount to do. I took a quick detour to the bathroom before starting on it.

The clock on my desk read six o'clock by the time I finished my homework. I always left my math homework for last, as it completely drained me. In junior high I had taken pre-algebra twice. Basically I didn't quite grasp it in seventh grade, so my aunt suggested I take it again in eighth. I still didn't fully understand it in the end, but I decided to move on to algebra. It was required, along with algebra II, to graduate high school. So I bit the bullet, so to speak, and decided to get them both out of the way as soon as possible.

Closing my algebra book, I pushed myself away from the desk. It was a cute little white desk, with two drawers on the side, and just enough room to squeeze a chair under it. In fact, most of my furniture was white now. I won out on the wall color of my room, but my mother picked the contrasting white. Not that it bothered me, as the room now looked ten times cleaner than how Justin had left it. Plus the white furniture was light and airy, and gave the room a more feminine feel.

I stood gingerly. It had been about two hours since I started, but it felt like I had been sitting for four. Perhaps the heels made my legs more tired than I thought. My nylon-encased feet sank into the new carpet as I paced around my room. I still couldn't get over that jerk Brent gawking at my legs for nearly an hour. His disturbing behavior alone made me hesitant to even dress this way again. I'd already made up my mind that I wouldn't give him another chance.

Right as I had made the commitment to change out of my clothes, I heard the phone ring upstairs. I sighed, pulling my sweater back down. One thing I had pushed for at the start, was having a phone in my room. There was already a phone line. Tom had put one in for Justin. The problem was, I decided I needed a cordless phone, but I kept leaving the stupid thing upstairs. I quickly exited my room, and hurried up the stairs to the kitchen.

"Hello?" I paused to take a few short breaths of air after answering the phone.

"Hi honey," my mother said, on the other end. "How was your day?"

"Interesting…"

"Good interesting?" she asked. "Or bad?"

"I was going to wait 'til you got home --"

"Well that's the thing," my mother interjected. "I'm going to have to stay pretty late tonight. I called to tell you to order some pizza, or something."

"I can cook," I offered.

"No," she said. "I don't want you to go to all that trouble."

"It's really no trouble," I said.

"Bailey… honestly, I would feel bad having you cook, and then it will probably just end up cold." My mother sighed on the other end. "I'm probably going to be here most of the night. We got an important client flying in tomorrow. And our paperwork here is an absolute mess right now."

"Oh… Well I could just make spaghetti."

"Just order yourself a pizza," she said. "In fact, why don't you invite Amber over for awhile. Or even Nathan. I'd feel better if you weren't there alone." She paused for a moment before adding, "There's some money in the drawer by the refrigerator. Just behave yourself."

"Mom… I need to ask you something."

"What?"

"I… kind of got asked out by a boy today," I said.

"Oh," my mother said, leaving me with a long silent pause. "What did you say?" she finally asked.

"I told him I had to ask you," I said.

"How old is he?"

"My age," I said. "He's in my science class."

"Yes. I'll be in there in just one moment," my mother said, to someone in the office. "I'm sorry, Bailey. Things are starting to get crazy around here."

"I told him I'd call him tonight."

A long silence greeted me on the other end. "It's fine with me," my mother finally said. "If it's something you want to do."

"Really?"

"We'll talk about curfew, and the details later," she said. "But I don't mind."

"Thanks, mom," I said. "Like I said, I wanted to wait, but I said I would call him tonight."

"It's fine, honey," my mother said. "I have to go though. I love you, and I'll see you later tonight. Okay?"

"Okay," I said. "I love you too."

Before I could say goodbye, she had already hung up on her end. There was no doubt she loved me, and probably wanted to talk longer, but when she was at work she tended to have a one-track mind. I sat there for a moment, just holding the phone. It wasn't exactly how I wanted to ask, or break the news to my mother, but it worked out anyway. I really had no excuse now to back out of my date with Brendan. That is of course, unless I didn't feel like doing the date. A small little part of me wanted to at least take a chance on it, despite my nerves.

I placed the telephone on the hook, then grabbed mine off of the kitchen counter. Apparently I had gotten hungry, or something, during my last phone call. I retreated back down to my room, and grabbed my notebook. Falling onto my bed, I opened the notebook up, and found Brendan's number. After dialing the number, I collapsed back on the bed. The phone began to ring. I took a few long, deep breaths.

"Hello?"

"Hi," I said. "Is this Brendan?"

"Yes…"

"This is Bailey," I said.

"Oh," Brendan said. "Hey!"

"Did I call at a bad time?"

"Not… really," he said. "We're about to eat, but not for another few minutes."

"Oh… well I can't talk long," I lied. "I just wanted to… call." I took a deep breath. That sounded so stupid. "My mom gave me the okay for Saturday."

"Cool," Brendan said, sounding a bit relieved. It made me wish I could have done this face-to-face; to see his reaction. "Uh… you still wanna do the movie? Because I don't think there's anything good playing."

"Actually…" I took another deep breath. Maybe face-to-face was a bad idea. I might have passed out. "I kind of changed my mind on the dance."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah…" I sighed. "It seems my friends are wanting to go, and I don't know… It might be fun."

"Oh…" A slight pause came from Brendan's end. "So you want to do… like… a friend thing?"

"No," I said, sitting up in my bed. "It's not like that. They just kind of… you know… talked me into it." I swallowed hard. "I'd still like to go with you, though."

"Oh, okay," Brendan said.

"That is if you want to go?"

"Sure," Brendan said. "I don't mind dances. Do you wanna just meet there?"

I thought it over for a moment. "That would probably be best," I said.

"Okay," Brendan said. "Cool then. I guess it's a date."

"I guess so," I said. I smiled for some reason, despite him being unable to see me. "I should…"

"Yeah," Brendan said. "I gotta get going. I'll see you at school."

"Okay," I said. "See you then."

"Bye," Brendan said, before hanging up.

I hung up the phone and collapsed back onto my bed. My heart felt like it was going to leap out of my chest. It was like the entire bundle of nerves, I had been saving up all day, suddenly exploded into ribbons that coursed through my body. I couldn't shake the anxious feeling, but at least the slight sickness at my stomach was gone. My body trembled. It took a few minutes of lying there in my bed to get over the phone call.

"Well now I'm committed," I said, holding up the phone.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...