CHAPTER 35 -- Home Again

When we got back, we still had a week before school started. I thought I'd gotten over Dennis while we were on vacation, but now that I was back, I missed him as much as before, though I wasn't crying myself to sleep any more. I remembered that Doris had said I should call her, so I did, and she told me to come on over.

When I got to her place, she was in the back yard wearing a bikini and lying on a towel sunning herself while reading a book. I was wearing the miniskirt and a halter top and feeling very exposed even though I was a lot more covered than she was. When she saw me, she sat up and got me to sit next to her.

"So what's up?" she asked.

"I'm still hung up on Dennis. I know it's stupid, but I feel like I'll never be happy again. And I'll be seeing him around every day when school starts. I'd talk it over with Dr. Gordon, but she's still on vacation."

"Did you talk to her before you left?"

"Yeah, but it didn't help much. I kind of felt like it was my fault he broke up with me."

"Why?"

"I'd been pushing him harder than he was comfortable with. I thought he was okay with what we were doing, but then he wasn't."

"What did you do exactly? Pester him until he finally did what you wanted?"

"I don't think so, at least, I didn't keep asking him. We started out just hugging and kissing, mostly hugging. Then he wanted to touch my breast and that was fine, but then I asked him to, you know, down there."

"Finger-fucking?"

"I guess. Anyway, he wasn't sure, but then the next time he said he wanted to. Then after a while I wanted him to, you know, fuck me. Make love, I called it. He thought about it, and then the next time, he said yes. We did it a couple of times, and then he said he didn't want to see me any more."

"So you asked him to do things, and each time, he thought about it and then said yes. I don't see how that's 'pushing' him. I mean, if he really wasn't comfortable with it, why did he say yes? How are you supposed to know that he doesn't want to if he says yes the first time you ask? You're not a mind reader!" She sounded indignant.

She went on. "I don't think you did anything wrong, and I don't think it's right that Dr. Gordon got you to think you did. It's the same old story: whatever happens, it's the woman's fault. It's your fault for asking. It's your fault for not understanding him better than he understands himself. That is just so sexist!"

I noticed the book she'd been reading: "Yes Means Yes." I guess that's what Doris was telling me: Dennis's "yes" meant "yes."

She continued, "I mean, you can't do anything about him breaking up with you. If he doesn't want to be with you any more, he should. But it doesn't make it your fault. Sometimes it's nobody's fault."

I sat on the ground with my arms around my knees. "I still miss him, though. I miss the sex, but I also miss him as a friend."

"He was really good?"

"Yeah. He listened to me raving about not knowing if I'm a boy or a girl and got me to feel better about it. I felt like I could talk to him about anything. He wants to be a doctor and I admired him so much because I think he will really try to help people. And when we were hugging and, well, you know, he was so gentle and considerate. I knew he'd never hurt me." I started to cry. It seemed like ever since I got turned into a girl, I was crying a lot more.

Doris had her arm around my shoulders and was stroking my cheek. After I stopped crying, she said, "I know it's tough, losing a friend. But if you want someone to listen to you 'raving' about, well, anything, I'd be willing to."

"You wouldn't think I was a freak?"

"Hell, no. You're you. Like I said at the prom, whether you're a boy or a girl or whatever, you're nice and you're fun to be with. Besides, I've never been a boy, and I'd love to hear from someone who knows what it's like to be a boy and a girl."

"I'm not sure I know what it's like to be a girl, I just know what it's like to be me."

"That's interesting enough." She found another towel and put it next to hers and got me to lie down next to her. My skirt rode up, so I pulled it down again. She started stroking my cheek again and said in a low, gentle voice, "so tell me, what did people call you when you were a boy?"

"Martin. My parents still do, when I call them or visit them. But I don't visit them much, they still have a hard time with me being a girl."

"Do you mind when people call you Martin? Would you like it if I sometimes called you Martin?"

"I don't know. When someone calls me Martin, it reminds me of my past, and sometimes it hurts, because I feel like it's a piece of me that I've lost forever. And sometimes it's nice, because I don't want to forget where I came from. It's like I'm one of those immigrants long ago who came here knowing they'd never see their homeland or their family or friends again."

She got me to talking about my life before the motorcycle accident. I hadn't really thought about it since my metamorphosis. I talked about hanging out with friends, about being with my brothers, even stuff like my underwear and shaving. It's funny, but when I told it to her, my life as a boy sounded kind of boring. She even got me to talk about jerking off. She said she'd seen boys do it and she'd done it to boys, but she didn't know what it felt like. I said it wasn't as intense as when I did it as a girl, but I didn't know whether that was because girls were different or because the sex-change treatment kind of overdid it. I had to admit, though, if they did overdo it, I wasn't going to complain.

Talking to Doris got me thinking: the doctors had said that if I really didn't like being a girl, in a few years I get an old-fashioned sex-change operation, but I wouldn't really be like a boy: I wouldn't be able to have normal sex or father a child. Sex as a girl wasn't bad, maybe better than as a boy. I already couldn't have a child, I wasn't sure I wanted to give up sex, too. Maybe I would rather spend the rest of my life as a girl. Lots of people lived their whole lives as girls and they seemed happy enough, maybe I'd be happy with it, too.

She talked about her life, too. She didn't have any brothers or sisters. She always seemed to know what she wanted to do and insisted on doing it, even if other people didn't understand. Her parents didn't really understand her, but they realized they couldn't change her and they seemed kind of proud of her. She was interested in all kinds of social justice things, not just feminism. She thought she might want to be an activist someday. She'd had run-ins with the school, though they seemed to respect her, too, because they never threatened to kick her out.

One time I told her, "you always seem so sure of yourself and full of energy. I'm always unsure of myself and never seem to know anything. I wonder why you want to be around me."

"Don't put yourself down. You've had an interesting life. Yeah, I know, it's been tough, but it's interesting to hear about. And you're real. Not fakey. And I like that you aren't full of energy. It's restful being around you. Besides, I really appreciate what you've done for Sylvia."

I went over to her place a couple of times that week. Teresa teased me about it. "You know she's a lesbian, right? Better watch out, she might seduce you!" she laughed.

"Would that be so bad?" I said.

"No, not really. It might be fun. You'll have to tell me what it was like if you all do do it; I've never done it with a girl."

I didn't mention to her that each time I left Doris's place, she would give me a kiss on the mouth. Nothing passionate, just a gentle kiss.

One time it was raining when I went over and we hung out in her room. She was getting me to tell about what it was like the last few months at West High.

"What finally got you to leave?"

"I didn't know I could leave. But I got suspended over -- over an -- incident. A really horrible one. And then I, uh, tried to kill myself. And then my aunt and uncle let me live with them and they got me into Gabriel."

"If you don't mind telling, why did you--"

"Try to kill myself? Things had gotten so bad, especially with that, uh, incident, that I thought dying would be better than going back. And I was sure they'd make me go back."

"What kind of incident?"

I couldn't speak for a few minutes. "A couple of guys -- the football stars and their friends -- they dragged me into a classroom." I started to shake just from thinking about it, but I couldn't stop talking. "They pulled my clothes off -- I mean, partway. And then Tom, Tom Prescott, he put his hand on--" I started to cry and my voice got shaky. "On my b-breast, and he said --- he said, 'it's got tits like a girl.'"

"'It'"?

"Yeah, all month they called me 'it'. Not 'you' or even 'he' or 'she'."

"That's awful!" she said and just held me and waited.

"Then he said, 'let's see if it's got a -- a cunt -- like a girl' and pulled down my underpants and put his hands all over. Then he pulled his pants down and --" I was wailing by this time. "And that's when the teacher came in and they said I'd pulled my clothes off myself and the principal believed them and not me." I was bawling like a little kid.

Then Doris's father knocked on the door and came in. "What's the matter? Why is she crying?" He looked really upset and concerned.

"Melanie was telling me about a really horrible incident at her old school."

"Is that true, Melanie?" he asked me.

I nodded. "I'm sorry to bother you," I added. "I didn't mean to make so much noise, but it was really awful. I hope I'm not getting Doris in trouble."

"Maybe I shouldn't have asked," Doris said.

"No, it's good. I can't talk about it to most people, it's too horrible. I've only ever told the whole story to my shrink. But I feel safe with you." I put my head on her shoulder. I was still sobbing a little. "I'm okay," I told her father, "but I appreciate that you -- you were concerned."

He looked a little dubious, but he left us. I put my face on Doris's shoulder and quietly sobbed and cried for a while, while she held me and patted my back. Then she got me to lie down on her bed and she stroked my back and my head and pretty much everything. After I was pretty relaxed, she got on top of me and massaged me all the way from my shoulders down to my feet.

"I don't think I can move," I said when she was done. "My muscles don't want to do anything."

"You don't have to. At dinner time I'll bring up some food and spoon feed you." I couldn't help laughing, which kind of hurt, because my stomach was sore from crying.

I did stay, though, and her parents gave me dinner, but at the dinner table. I explained that I'd been at West High and things were really awful for me for months, and that's why I'd transferred to Gabriel. I didn't tell them the details or that I'd tried to kill myself.

CHAPTER 36 -- Back to School

School was starting next week, so Aunt Edith took me on yet another shopping trip. She said I'd filled out and needed new bras, plus my tights were wearing out, plus she thought I needed some dressier skirts and blouses. So we went to the bra store and Teresa got me to get some racier bras as well as plain ones. Well, they seemed racy to me: mostly they were just lacy and one was sort of see-through, and one was black. Then we went to the mall and they got me more tights and underwear and a frilly white blouse and a long black wool skirt and another plain skirt and dress, since I still couldn't wear pants. I spent the rest of the weekend hanging out with Teresa and her friends.

When school started, I felt like an old lag. I knew where everything was, at least once I got my schedule, and I knew what to do everywhere. The first day, I ate lunch with Sylvia and her friends, so I could congratulate her on passing algebra. I saw Dennis there, too. Actually, he was in my English class again. He saw me, but he acted like he didn't know me. I didn't want to make a scene the first day back, but it bugged me. I mean, even Zeke said hi.

Finally, on Friday, I said something. I went over to Dennis's table. Everyone turned to look at me, and Dennis was looking nervous. Good, I thought. I looked straight at Dennis, like no one else was there, and I said, "Dennis, you don't have to be friends with me if you don't want. But at least admit I exist. At least look at me and say hi when I walk by. That's just respect." Then I walked back to Teresa's table and ate my lunch. Later, Dennis walked over and said he was sorry and we shook hands.

Homework, of course, started up the first day, so Teresa and I were pretty busy every evening, but Doris asked me to come down to the coffee house Saturday night with her and her friends and then spend the night at her place. "Sort of a pyjama party," she said, except that it would be just us two. We could go to her church the next day if I didn't want to rush home to go to ours.

So I packed a bag and a sleeping bag and took the bus down to the coffee house. I decided to dress nice, so I put on the navy skirt and a white blouse and some white knee socks. When I got there, I saw that the other girls had decided to dress up, too. Sort of. Everyone was from a different century. Judy was dressed like someone from the 1940's, Sylvia was wearing a dress from a Jane Austen movie, and Doris looked like someone from a Renaissance festival, with a long skirt and peasant blouse and lace-up bodice that showed off her breasts, only we were supposed to call it her "bosom." Her hair was by now over her shoulders and she tied it back with a thong. I was still thinking of her as a butch lesbian, but she sure didn't look like it now. More like a "wench." I told her that and she thought it was hysterical. The boys wore their usual bo-o-oring torn jeans and heavy metal T-shirts.

Sylvia, Doris, Judy, and I ended up squeezing together onto one of the ratty couches and got Jeff to bring us drinks. Nick and Jeff and us played musical couch for the rest of the evening, except that whoever didn't find a spot just kind of sprawled on top of the others. Nick insisted that we each sing a song, so Doris sang R-E-S-P-E-C-T, and Sylvia sang Material Girl, and I don't remember what Judy sang. I was last and didn't really want to get up in front of everybody, but they all insisted, so I sang Yesterday, except that I said "he" instead of "she" everywhere.

Around closing time, Sylvia's dad picked us up and dropped me and Doris off at her place. We got ready for bed. I was wearing the nightgown Teresa gave me, and Doris was wearing a long T-shirt. I started to unroll my sleeping bag, but Doris said it would be more comfortable on her bed, and there was room because it was a double bed. So I joined her. I'd hadn't shared a bed in I don't know how long and I didn't know how I was supposed to act.

"Do you mind if we snuggle?" she said. I was okay with it, so we hugged and held each other and she covered my face with little kisses. I wasn't surprised. I'd been kind of expecting something like this, since I knew she liked me and I knew she was a lesbian. But she was so nice to me and I felt so safe with her and I knew she wouldn't make me do anything I didn't want to. After a while, we were getting sleepy, so I turned over and she cuddled up to my back and put her hand on my breast. I put my hand on hers and then lifted it to my mouth and kissed it. Then I put it back on my breast and fell asleep.

Some time in the night, I got up to pee, and when I came back, Doris was awake. I lay down next to her and we started hugging and kissing and then stroking each other all over. She put her hand on my breast and started kind of playing with it. I put my hand on hers, too, but after a while, what she was doing started to turn me on and I couldn't think of anything but what she was doing to me. I was on my back and she was on her side and every now and then I would lift my head and kiss her because she seemed so wonderful. "I think I'm in love with you," I said. I don't know why, it seemed like it was just what I wanted to say.

She smiled and leaned over and kissed me. Then she moved her hand down under my nightgown and asked, "do you mind if I...?"

I whispered, "you don't have to ask. I'm sure I'll love whatever you do." It sounds a little stupid to say it now, but I was pretty far gone. She got a funny grin and gave me a long kiss on the mouth and then kind of sucked and kissed one of my nipples, which turned me on even more. She lifted my nightgown until she could reach my crotch and put her knee over one of my legs. She had one arm under my head and was kissing me on the face, over and over, while she gently stroked my crotch. I was really turned on, so I don't remember too many details, just her stroking me harder and harder, but never too much, and feeling her body pressed against mine and her kisses on my face, and then I was coming and trying not to be too loud and wake her parents. When it was over and I could notice anything, I noticed that Doris was on top of me, hugging me and kissing me and holding her legs on either side of mine. I stroked her back and noticed that her nightshirt had come up to her waist, so her butt was bare. I couldn't help giggling and rubbing her butt, it was just so cute, feeling her bare butt sticking out. I got this feeling that she was the most wonderful person in the whole world, so I gave her a big, tight hug and said, "I love you so much," and I nuzzled her cheek.

Then I asked her, "do you mind if I, you know, try to make you feel good? You did such a good job of making me feel good."

"I think the word you're looking for is 'masturbate,'" she replied.

"I dunno. That word sounds too scientific for what we've been doing. Like something that belongs in a chem lab or something. You know, 'mix the reagents in a beaker and masturbate for two and a half minutes.'"

Doris lost it completely.

She had to cover her mouth so she wouldn't wake up the whole house with her laughing. When she'd recovered enough to say anything, she said, "I almost peed myself! 'Masturbate for two and a--'." She fell over laughing again. Every time it looked like she'd gotten a grip, she'd say it again and crack up again. She finally gasped out, "where do you come up with these things?"

"I'm sorry, it was just what came into my head."

"Don't be sorry, there was nothing wrong with it, exactly. But it did sort of blow the mood."

"I'm sorry I blew the mood. You did such nice things to me, and now I won't be able to do it for you."

"That's okay, I wasn't ready for that, anyway. It takes me a while in a relationship before I can relax enough to let someone else make love to me." She looked at me carefully. "You don't mind me calling it 'making love'?"

"No, no, it's a beautiful word. Can I at least cuddle you and kiss you?"

She slid closer to me, and I put my arms around her and tried kissing her gently, the way she'd done to me. After a while, her eyes closed and her breathing slowed, so I figured she was asleep. I soon fell asleep, too.

In the morning, after breakfast, we went to Doris's church. It was a lot more laid back than Teresa's, and I think they were more liberal, too, because I saw what I thought were some gay and some lesbian couples. They had chairs instead of pews, and nobody dressed up. I was the most dressed up person there with my navy skirt and white blouse. The minister had nice pants and a short-sleeved shirt, and they had a guitar instead of an organ or piano. At the end, we all held hands in a circle and gave the people around us a hug and sometimes a kiss on the cheek.

CHAPTER 37 -- Eric

It was time for youth group to start up. I was looking forward to hanging out with Amy. But when she arrived, it turned out she'd brought a friend.

"Melanie, this is my friend Eric. Eric, this is Melanie."

"Hi, Eric."

He grinned at me and said, "hi, Mel."

I forced myself to be polite. "Uh, my name is Melanie."

"But I like Mel better."

This got my back up. "Well, I don't. Please call me Melanie."

I got ready to walk off, when Amy said, "hey, chill out. What's the big deal with what he calls you?"

"That he can't be bothered to call me by my name. If it's really no big deal, why doesn't he just call me Melanie." Eric was still grinning as I walked off.

I hoped if I ignored him, he'd find somebody else to pester. I went off to the people putting together the pizza order to lobby for my favorite toppings. A few minutes later, I hear, "hey, Mel!" behind me. I ignore it and kept talking about toppings. A few minutes later, I see his head stuck right in front of my face.

"Hey, why didn't you answer?"

"I heard you calling for someone named 'Mel', so I figured you were talking to someone else."

"Come on, I'm just trying to be friendly."

"Well, you're not succeeding. Go be 'friendly' with someone else. Like they say, don't go away mad, just go away." He was getting on my nerves.

I wandered over to one of the couches to hang out with some Greenwooders and wait for the opening circle. I sat down and a second later, Eric plunked himself down next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. I hissed, "get your hands off of me!" and then grabbed his arm and pulled it out from behind me. I couldn't stand being that close to him, so I got up and walked away, and tried to figure out where I was going to go.

About then, it was time for opening circle. I made a point of sitting as far away from Eric as possible, which meant being way away from Amy and even from Teresa.

We did our usual check-in. Amy introduced Eric. When it was my turn, I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just gave my name and passed. Reverend Jen introduced the topic: what our real values are. We talked about it for a few minutes and then broke up into small groups. As I was heading to my group (which Eric was not in, I was glad to see), Eric came up and tried to talk to me.

"Mel, why can't you be friendlier?"

"Why can't you stop being a jerk? Just leave me alone, okay?" We went off to our groups. I was having trouble even remembering what we were talking about. Damn him! I thought.

The discussions in our group were interesting enough that I forgot about Eric, so when we went to go back into the big circle, it came as a shock when he came up behind me and grabbed my arm.

"Let go of me!" I screamed and tried to pull away. He held on. With my free hand I punched him in the stomach as hard as I could, which wasn't very since only my left arm was free and I wasn't at a good angle. But it was enough to make him let go. I was thinking, OMG, what did I just do? What is going on with me? We stood for a few seconds staring at each other. He looked surprised, and I was freaking out. He reached his hand out again, and I took off, screaming, "get away from me!" I ran down the hall to the bathrooms. This floor of the church had one-person bathrooms, so I ran inside one, locked the door and put my back against it, since I was sure he'd try to break in. I heard some loud voices. I slid down the door and ended up sitting on the floor with my back against the door. There was no window and nothing to look at but the side of the toilet and the toilet paper roll in the background. Somebody knocked on the door and said, "Melanie!" It didn't sound like Eric, but I still didn't answer, and they went away.

By now, I wasn't freaking out so much about Eric as about how I was freaking out. I don't think I'd ever really punched anyone until this summer, and now I'd done it twice. God, I'm a nut case. I'm a violent criminal. I can't be allowed to run around loose. I wasn't exactly crying, but I felt something wet dripping down my cheek.

About then, the light went out. It seems there was a motion detector switch, and you had to move around or it would think no one was there. I waved my hand and the light went back on.

Another knock at the door. "Melanie? It's Teresa. The pizza is here. Do you want any?"

"No, I'm not hungry. Hey, can you get me when it's time to go? Like, when our ride is here?"

"Okay," she said and went away.

After a while, I just stopped thinking. I felt like a robot someone had put in the closet and turned off. Every now and then, the light would go out, and I'd wave my hand to turn it back on. I was just blank.

Teresa knocked on the door. "My Dad is here." I dragged myself to my feet and opened the door. As we were walking out the door, Reverend Jen came up to me. "Can we find a time to talk this week? I'd really like to talk with you about what happened."

I shrugged a 'whatever.' "I'm pretty busy with schoolwork all week."

"Then ask your parents to call me."

I was like a zombie the whole way home, but when we got inside, I went over to my uncle and he put his arms around me and I started bawling. He got me over to the couch and my aunt came in. I put my face on his chest and cried and shook for the longest time. When I'd cried myself out, I leaned back in the sofa. My aunt brought a big handkerchief for me to dry my face with. Teresa said, "do you want to eat something?" She explained, "she didn't have anything to eat." I nodded, and my aunt went into the kitchen.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" my uncle asked.

I nodded, but it took a few minutes for me to be able to talk, and I still kept having to stop. "This new kid. Eric. He started by calling me 'Mel' and refused to call me Melanie. Then he kept bugging me even when I asked him to stop. He kept trying to put his arm around me and asking me why I wasn't 'friendly.' I couldn't get him to leave me alone! Then he grabbed me and wouldn't let go and I freaked out and punched him and then ran off and hid in the bathroom until you came.

"It was so weird. I never hit people. Wait, there was that time this summer, at the ice cream shop. A guy tried to kiss me without asking. A big guy. I punched him hard, and then had a flashback. To the rape. Well, the attempted rape. I didn't have a flashback this time, though. I just feel like I can't go back to youth group."

My aunt was standing in the doorway listening.

Teresa said, "the youth pastor asked Melanie to call her, or at least for you all to call her." Then she said to me, "after you hid in the bathroom, we had a long discussion. You weren't there to tell your side, but we pieced it together from what people saw, and I think we had a good idea, anyway. It took a while, but I think Eric finally got it, and when he did, he looked pretty shook up. I didn't tell them your whole story, but I did tell them you'd had some pretty awful experiences at your old school. We're on your side, Melanie."

I started crying again. My aunt brought in a tray with some tea and some leftover fried chicken. I was still sobbing a little when I started eating. When I was done, I settled back on the couch. I noticed I was feeling better. Maybe I was just hungry.

"I don't know why I freaked out like that. I feel so stupid. It's not like he did anything really awful. He was just annoying."

My aunt spoke. "Melanie, he wasn't just being annoying. He was violating your boundaries. Every time you tried to set a limit, he ignored it, starting with your name. That's predator behavior. Not that I'm saying he is a predator, but it was threatening, and you had every reason to feel threatened."

"So I'm not crazy?"

"No, you've been through a traumatic experience. Your experiences at West High School taught you where that kind of behavior can lead, so you're more sensitive to it. Your reaction is not at all irrational."

I tried to laugh. "I'm lucky to be living with a social worker."

I felt like I'd been run through a wringer. I could hardly stand up. Teresa and my aunt helped me upstairs and got me dressed for bed. I suppose I could have managed by myself, but it was nice to have people take care of me.

The next day, school filled my mind and I didn't think about what I'd been through. But later in the week, my uncle told me that they'd talked to Reverend Jen and she wanted to come by that night after I'd finished studying. That night, I rushed through my studies. Reverend Jen came in and Teresa and I went down to the living room.

"I wanted to talk about what happened Sunday night. I'm really sorry I wasn't paying enough attention to notice what you were going through. It was my job to keep an eye on things, and I fell down there. I'm sorry."

It made me feel funny to hear a grown-up admit to a kid that she'd messed up. "It's okay. You did your best."

"Anyway, we had a long discussion about how we treat one another and especially about what Eric did. Eric had -- maybe still has -- some messed-up ideas about how to relate to girls. He thought he was supposed to take charge, and that girls are supposed to act like they don't like it even when they do. I think until you punched him and ran away, he honestly thought you were just playing hard to get." She shook her head, it looked like a shudder. "I think we need to spend the next few meetings talking about how we relate to one another, especially as men and women.

"But there's one thing we need to resolve before the next time. Melanie -- I don't know how to put this. Is there any way you can feel like coming if Eric is there? Or do we need to ask Eric not to come back? What would it take for you to feel safe again at our youth group?"

"Tell him not to come back? Oh my God, no. That would be so awful, seeing somebody kicked out, and knowing how awful that feels. I mean, everybody's a jerk sometimes. If he can just leave me alone and keep away from me, I think I would be okay with him being there."

She looked at me carefully, like she was trying to see something. Then she went on. "Would it help if he apologized?"

I thought briefly. "No, I don't want to talk to him at all. Just get him to not talk to me and avoid me. I'll avoid him, too. If he really changes, I'll know it sooner or later." I tried to imagine what it would be like. "It will be weird. But I think I need that, to feel safe."

I continued, "I really appreciate all you're doing for me. I don't feel like I deserve so much special attention."

"Melanie, you do deserve it. You're one of God's children, and you deserve love and respect and consideration as much as anyone. As one of God's servants, it's my job to see to it that you get it."

"Did you know our school has a class called 'respect'? Everyone spends an hour a day learning about and talking about how to show respect for one another."

"That sounds interesting. I'll ask you about it, since I might want to incorporate some of that in our program. But not tonight. I think you need to go to bed. And so do I."

We said our goodbyes, and then I went to bed.

CHAPTER 38 -- The Visit

Dr. Gordon was finally back from her vacation. I went in and talked about what Doris had said about Dennis. I was kind of mad at her for making me feel so guilty. She said she hadn't been trying to make me feel guilty and she didn't think I'd done anything wrong, either. It was just that I shouldn't be too surprised that sex was more than most kids my age could handle. I told her about Doris and how nice she was, but I didn't tell her about how Doris masturbated me. (I still don't like that word.)

She also said that things were going so well that I didn't need to come twice a week. From now on, I would just see her on Tuesdays. I wasn't sure I liked it, but I also seemed to be getting mad at her a lot, so maybe it was for the best.

That was the week that Teresa got her learner's permit. I talked to my aunt and uncle about me getting one, but they said they'd need to find out what was involved, my sex-change might make it complicated. We might have to get a lawyer and get all my official records changed to list me as 'female.' I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

I talked to Doris practically every day, though not for very long. We both had lots of schoolwork, plus she was starting to apply to colleges. She didn't think I could spend the night every weekend, because her parents or my aunt and uncle might think something was up. Maybe they would have been okay with it, but neither of us wanted to find out. Besides, she wanted some time with her other friends and she thought I should hang out with my other friends, too. She was a little like she was my mom, being so sensible. I did get her to agree to come over Sunday afternoon.

Teresa didn't ask me what I was doing with Doris, and I didn't tell her everything, but I'm sure she guessed. She'd say how nice it was that I had a new friend and give me a knowing smile. Meanwhile, almost every night I'd remember everything about my sleepover with Doris.

Doris came over a little after lunch on Sunday. Teresa and I were still dressed from church, and I noticed that Doris was also more dressed up than usual. Somehow she'd figured out that we'd all be dressed up and wanted to make a good impression. It's funny, but I was more nervous about Doris coming than I was about Dennis the first time. Anyway, she made polite conversation with my aunt and uncle when she got there, and then the three of us went upstairs to hang out in our room. We sat on the floor and talked. Doris spent more time talking to Teresa than me, and at first I was miffed -- wasn't she my friend? Then I figured out that she was trying to make a good impression on Teresa, just like she'd tried to make a good impression on Aunt Edith and Uncle Boris. Since I wasn't saying much, I had time to think, and I thought: she's really smart. This way, they'll want her over here and they'll be happy that I'm spending time with her. Especially since Teresa kind of knows what we're doing together, it's smart to get on her good side.

I noticed they'd started talking about political stuff like racism and feminism. I hadn't thought about what Teresa believed, it had just never come up, but it sounded like Teresa wasn't anywhere near as radical as Doris. I was afraid they'd start arguing, but whenever they got to a real disagreement, one of them would back off. I guess I'm not very smart, because I couldn't get all that interested in it. I lay down on my stomach sort of between them and listened to the sound of their voices and ignored the words. It was nice that way. Just listening to two people who really mattered to me. I was thinking of nothing in particular when I realized that someone was stroking my back. I made contented noises, and then I noticed that they were both kind of stroking me, sort of like how you pet a cat. It kind of blew me away, but I didn't want it to stop, either. I started making purring noises, and I heard someone laugh. Then Doris said, "I didn't know you had a pet cat," and Teresa said, "I didn't know, either." I kind of went, "mrow?" Doris started laughing and stopped petting me, so I got up on my hands and knees and rubbed my head against her, the way cats do. Then I rubbed my head against Teresa and said "mrow" again.

Uncle Boris shouted up the stairs that it was a nice day and we should take advantage of it, so we got our shoes on and went for a walk in the nature preserve. It was fun. There were places where it was wide enough for us all three to walk side by side, and then we'd hold hands. One time, we started singing "we're off to see the Wizard" and swinging our arms and laughing. So when the path got narrow, so we had to walk single file, we each held onto the person in front of us and started saying "lions! and tigers! and bears! Oh, my!" It's a good thing no one from the psych ward at the hospital saw us, or they'd have locked us up for sure.

When we got back, my aunt and uncle invited Doris to dinner. Doris was kind of careful at first, but Teresa and I just kept looking at each other and smiling and cracking up, and I mouthed "lions" and "tigers" and I'd crack up before I could get to "bears." Aunt Edith and Uncle Boris looked at us like we were crazy and then looked at Doris.

Doris rolled her eyes. "When we were in the park, they got into singing 'we're off to see the Wizard,' and then the lions and tigers and bears thing --"

"You did it, too!" I interrupted.

"Quiet. I'm trying to act mature. I'm going off to college next year, so I've got to get in practice."

Teresa was facing her, so she started mouthing "lions" and so on until Doris couldn't keep a straight face. Meanwhile, my aunt and uncle were smiling and not looking like they thought we were crazy any more. Or at least, not crazy in a bad way. "It does my heart good to see you children having so much fun together," said my aunt. It looked like Doris's visit was a success.

CHAPTER 39 -- Sleepovers

I'd gotten to the point that I wanted to spend every minute of every day with Doris. Teresa said I was "smitten" with her. But Doris didn't want to. She said she liked me a lot, and did want to spend time together, but she needed her own life and thought I needed one, too. It was like Chinese water torture.

Meanwhile, I'd gone back to doing math tutoring and singing in the chorus. Sylvia still needed help, but she mostly needed me to help her calm down when she got anxious. She could do the work when she wasn't anxious. I got to know some of the other girls better, now that Sylvia wasn't taking all of my time. There were even a few boys that came over for help now. One or two of them I didn't think really needed my help. I wondered if they were doing it just so they could spend time with me. It took me a while to think that, and when I did, it blew me away. I'd never been popular before, and I couldn't imagine why people would want to be with me so much they'd pretend to be dumb.

I got paddled again. Just like before, I was having trouble remembering not to use curse words. But this time I wasn't so scared or shocked. It was just like, oh fudge, here we go again. It still hurt and I was still upset about it. I talked it over with Doris that evening.

"I don't blame you for being upset," she said. "It is pretty obnoxious. I usually get paddled several times a year, and I never really get used to it. But I tell myself, at least you know the score. Being paddled helps me remember that there's a power structure here, and they can do what they want with us and we can't stop them, and if we want to have any say about what happens to us, we're going to have to be smart and organized and figure out how to game the system."

I wasn't sure it made me feel any better, but at least she was willing to listen. She's going to make a good activist someday, I thought.

The next weekend, the youth group was having a camping trip. We all brought sleeping bags and spare clothes and the church supplied tents and food. We left Saturday morning and got dropped off at the trailhead which was a few miles from the campsite. So we had to carry all the stuff to the campsite We complained the whole way, even though it wasn't really that bad. We set up our tents and then walked around looking for toads and salamanders until lunch time. I had to learn how to pee in the woods as a girl. I was still wearing skirts, so it was kind of neat to just wander off, lift the skirt a little and then just pee. For supper we roasted hot dogs on sticks and cooked potatos in the coals. And of course we roasted marshmallows for desert. Yes, Eric was there, too, but we acted like we didn't see each other, and it didn't bother me.

I was sharing a tent with two other girls who I didn't know very well. It turned out they had lots of friends, and they all decided to hang out in our tent. They started out talking about boys they had crushes on who I didn't know. Finally, one of them moaned, "sometimes I feel so horny I could just die!"

Everybody laughed sort of nervously, and then they got quiet. Another girl said, really quietly, "I know what you mean. We try to look pretty, but what is it for? Nobody talks about that. I mean, isn't it so some boy will want us and want to do, you know, stuff that makes us happy? Like kissing and holding and, well, you know. I used to think girls who got married right out of high school were crazy, but now I kind of get where they're coming from. Not that I'm planning to, myself."

I probably should have kept my mouth shut, but I couldn't help asking, "there are boys, you know. Couldn't they, uh, help you out?"

I heard people making disgusted noises. "Have you tried talking to them? They're nice enough if you keep telling them that you don't want to be their girlfriend -- and if the pastor is watching. But if a girl lets one of them sleep with her, or even lets him get to second base, it's all over town the next day, what a 'slut' she is. Or they think they own you." Someone else said, "they're like Eric was to you, only in a different way. I wish we could 're-educate' them all."

It was dark and we hadn't bothered with flashlights. It was getting cold, too, but nobody wanted to leave, because it was warmer in the tent with all the people. I had alread gotten into my sleeping bag because the skirt and socks weren't all that warm. Somebody fetched some more eleeping bags, and we decided to double up in the bags and kind of pile together to stay warm. I ended up sharing my bag with a girl I didn't know who was feeling pretty cold by then. I was afraid it would be weird, but it was just cozy. Especially the part where I was warming her up. I wondered what the boys were doing. The boys' tents were on the other side of the fire, so we couldn't hear. I'll bet they weren't snuggling up together to stay warm, though.

Doris finally agreed to have me stay over the next Saturday. Teresa and I went over to Sylvia's, and the usual gang was there. We talked about what we were planning to do after we graduated. I was trying to act like we were just friends hanging out, but finally I leaned over to Doris and asked her if I could put my arm around her or something. I thought everyone would be too busy talking to notice, but just when I started talking, everyone was between sentences and they all heard.

"Hey, Dor, I see you have a new admirer," said Sylvia. I felt horribly embarrassed and tried to slink away, but Doris put her arm around me and pulled me over to her and said something like, "only the best!" I buried my face in her side.

Sylvia said, "Melanie, we're not making fun of you. We think it's great that you and Doris are together. We just like giving Doris a hard time."

Teresa added, "you can come out now." So I unburied my head and tried to act normal. And everyone seemed to be trying to be extra nice to me.

I didn't say much after that. Mostly, I was just enjoying watching and listening and feeling Doris's body next to mine and her arm around my shoulder. Teresa got in a long conversation with Jeff. It looked like they were hitting it off. It made me happy because I thought Teresa was a little sad that she hadn't had a boyfriend yet. I don't think Dennis really counted.

Sylvia's parents ordered us pizza and then took us to see a movie. Afterwards, we all went home, except me, I went to Doris's.

It still wasn't bedtime when we got there. Her family has this thing where before they go to bed, they sit in the living room and each have a little glass of wine and maybe say something about the day or maybe just relax. They had the windows open so you could hear the crickets and the birds and the wind in the leaves. I said I'd never drunk wine, so they gave me some sparkling cider instead. Even though it didn't have any alcohol, I felt sort of sleepy, maybe because the lights were low. They got me to talk about West High and switching to Gabriel. I wasn't going to tell them about having been a boy, but it kind of came up anyway, because it was hard to tell the story without it. Her mother said she'd heard something about it on the news. "Was that you?" She asked. They sounded very sympathetic.

Doris and I went up to her room and went to bed. We kind of lay next to each other, looking at each other and kind of feeling each other.

"Doris?" I said.

"What?"

"Am I too, you know, clingy?" I felt embarrassed to say it.

"What do you mean, 'too clingy'?"

"I'm afraid I'll make you not like me because I'm always wanting to be with you." And to make love to you, I thought. But I wasn't going to say it. "Your friends were making fun of you because I wanted to snuggle with you while they were there. DPDA."

"It's fine. It's kind of cute, actually. I kind of like it. It's nice to feel wanted. By the way, what you were doing wasn't 'DPDA,' you weren't, like feeling me up, or even kissing me while everyone was around. I've had guys do that. No, you were just right."

She leaned over and gave me a kiss. "Do you mind if I call you Martin?" she whispered.

"No, but--why?"

"I don't know. Maybe the idea that you used to be a boy. And maybe still have some boy in you. It makes you interesting." She was saying this in a sort of flirtatious way. Maybe turned on. She kissed me again, a long kiss, and started caressing my breast.

"Do you feel like having me do nice things to you this time?" I said. "You know, mas-tur-bate." I still had trouble saying the word.

She started laughing, but not as bad as last time. Then she said, "you're so cute" and grabbed my nose between her knuckles. Then she put her arms around me and hugged me and rolled me back and forth, saying "Martin. Melanie. Melanie-Martin." When she was done, we were lying side by side on our backs. Then she got sort of serious. "Sure. I'd love to have you 'do nice things' to me."

I turned to her and started kissing her face and shoulder. She slipped off her nightshirt and let me play with her breast. She had to show me how to do it so it felt good for her, because it was a little different from what I liked. After a while, she took my hand and put it down on her lower belly and had me tickle her for a while. I was giving her little kisses the whole time. She had to show me when and how to stroke her labia and her clitoris. I felt kind of stupid. When she was about to come, she had me hold her very tight with my arms and hold one of her legs with mine as she thrashed and strained, but it was all very controlled and quiet. When she came, she got real stiff and sort of whimpered. Afterwards, she lay there and breathed hard. When she'd caught her breath she pulled me to her and kissed my head and shoulders all over.

When she'd settled down, I said, "I'm sorry I wasn't very good at it. I guess I'm not really like a real girl yet, since you have to show me everything."

"No, 'real girls' don't always know what other girls like exactly without being shown. There's always some awkwardness the first few times. You're doing fine."

"But you did so well on me the first time."

"I've had more practice. Also -- now don't take it the wrong way -- but you're a lot simpler than a lot of girls. I do a few motions and bang! you're hot to trot."

"Well, the doctor did say 'an approximation of female sexuality,'" I said, sort of embarrassed. "I guess they figured, Keep It Simple, See."

"Don't put yourself down. You're just right." Then sort of dreamily, she chanted, "Melanie-Martin, Martin-Melanie,...." She kept chanting it as she put her arms around me and started kissing me. When she was done 'doing nice things' to me, we snuggled. Doris went right to sleep, but I lay awake a while thinking. The sex was fun and hit the spot, but it was the snuggling and lying next to Doris and feeling her body that really felt good. It was like there was a hunger or a need that I didn't know I had, but suddenly it was filled. I wondered if I might have felt the same way with Dennis, if we'd ever had the chance to spend the night together.

CHAPTER 40 -- Ursula

The next weekend, I visited my family. I stayed in my old room and my parents called me "Martin," but I continued to dress as a girl and mostly act like a girl. Biff was away at school, but Pete was around, and he called me Melanie. It was surreal.

We mostly hung around the house or ran errands. I didn't try to contact anyone I'd known before because, well -- what would I say? Besides, there were a lot of people I didn't want to remind of my existence. I wasn't sure they wouldn't follow me to the east side if they knew.

Anyway, we ended up going out for pizza Saturday night. We were sitting at the table waiting for our pizza to be done when I saw Ursula walk in. I'd had a crush on Ursula back in ninth grade, or as much a of a crush as I could have with things as they were, me being a "loser" and she being an "ugly." I never went anywhere with it, because the only thing I knew about boy-girl stuff was how my brothers talked about taking girls out and seeing how far they could go with them. I couldn't see treating Ursula that way. Or any girl. So when I saw her, I couldn't help calling out to her.

"Ursula!" I said. She gave me a puzzled look, like, who are you?

"Ursula, it's me, Martin. Remember?" I added. She walked over to us with a really confused look on her face.

"Who?" She shook her head, still confused.

"Martin Rawlings. From West High. Ninth grade. And part of tenth. You know, the vampire at your Hallowe'en party? Who pretended to bite your neck? The guy who got the involuntary sex-change?"

"Martin ?! Is that you? I can't hardly believe it. They said you'd killed yourself, that's why you weren't around any more. And you look so different. You really look like a girl now, nothing like the old Martin."

"Well, I'm not dead. But I'm going to a different school now, and I figured I might as well live as a girl, since living as a boy wasn't working out."

"Do they still call you Martin?"

"I'm called Melanie now. But I'm okay with Martin, from people who knew me back then. How are you doing? Surviving West High?"

She suddenly looked miserable. "They haven't killed me. Yet."

"Do you want to join us?" I looked at my mom and dad, a little late, but they seemed to like the idea.

She glanced nervously around the room. Her face twitched. "I don't think I'd better." She kept looking around.

"Do you want to talk sometime? Give me your number? Or I'll give you mine." I pulled a pencil out of my purse and jotted my cell number on a napkin and pushed it into her hand. She looked at it, then suddenly tore off a piece, took my pencil and wrote a number down and gave it to me. Then she sidled off.

"God, she looked afraid to be seen with us," I muttered. "It's like we're Jews in Nazi Germany or something." Nobody else said anything. Our pizza came and we went back to talking about Pete and Biff and the neighbors.

On Sunday, I talked to my parents about me going to church, but they decided it would be too complicated trying to explain who I was. Some of the people there knew about my metamorphosis, but I hadn't been around long enough then for them to get used to me as a girl. So they went and I stayed home. Surreal.

At dinner, at my aunt and uncle's, I told them about how Ursula had acted. "I'm worried about her. She didn't used to be so afraid. It looked like she was afraid of someone seeing her. I was wondering if I could invite her here sometime. Maybe she'd feel safer about talking to me. And Aunt Edith -- I hope this isn't asking to do work in your free time -- you might have a take on what's going on."

I called Ursula that night and invited her over for next Sunday afternoon. She sounded real depressed, but after I talked to her a while and told her about my situation, she agreed. She'd take the bus over -- I told her how -- and Uncle Boris would drive her home.

Teresa and I met her at the bus stop. She did a double-take seeing Teresa, so I introduced them. "Ursula, this is my cousin Teresa. She's real nice. She was my friend last year when nobody else would be."

Teresa simply said, "any friend of Melanie's -- Martin's -- is a friend of mine," and opened her arms for a hug. Ursula stood there for a moment, looking anxious, then let Teresa hug her.

As we walked back, I got a better look at Ursula. Her eyes had always looked sunken, but it used to be because of make-up. Now it wasn't. She used to look defiant, now she looked defeated. Her black nail polish was chipped and worn, like she'd put it on a week ago and hadn't done anything since. She was wearing black sweats instead of a black blouse and skirt.

At lunch, she was very quiet. She didn't join in any conversations, and gave one- or two-word answers to questions. After lunch, we went up to the guest room. Teresa poked her head in and said she'd be in our bedroom if anybody needed anything. Instead of sitting on the couch-bed, Ursula sat on the floor in a corner where she could see the door and put her arms around her knees.

"So, how's it going?" I started off.

"Martin -- Melanie -- can we talk about something less depressing? Why don't you tell me about what's been up with you since you left West High?"

I glossed over my suicide attempt and told her about moving to my aunt and uncle's to get away from the harassment. I told her in great detail what it was like being at Gabriel.

"God, it sounds like you died and went to heaven," she said when I was done. "What it's like at West High? Same old, same old, I guess. No, that's not true. It's gotten worse. All we want to do now, we 'uglies' and your 'loser' friends, is to get out. Evelyne has been taking lots of summer courses and hopes to graduate early. Even if they don't let her, she plans to apply to college for next year, anyway. Toshi -- well, she tried to kill herself right before school started, and her parents sent her to a Catholic school, and they won't let her see or talk to any of her old friends. Seth and Kurt and some of the other 'losers' have started smoking weed each morning and lunch time just to get through the day."

"How about you?" I asked.

She started to tear up. "You don't have to say if you don't want to," I said.

"No, I need to tell someone. But you've got to promise not to tell anyone."

I wasn't sure if I should, but she looked so miserable, I couldn't say no. "I promise."

"Okay." She didn't say anything for a while. Then she started talking, like she was talking to herself. "Did you know Kevin? On the basketball team? Last spring, he started coming on to me. He kept asking me out and wouldn't take no for an answer. I was able to avoid him in the summer, but this fall, he started up again, only real polite and considerate. One day, he offered me a ride home, and stupid me, I accepted. He drove me out into the country and told me how hot he thought I was and how he couldn't help coming on to me and how if I had any decency, I'd 'help him' with it. I kept asking him to take me home, but he ignored me. I realized I wasn't going to get home until I agreed to go all the way with him. I thought of getting out and running away, but we were miles away from anywhere and anybody and he could outrun me easily. So I finally gave in.

"It was awful. It hurt, but worst of all, I felt like I was a thing. Like a -- a dirty kotex. He wouldn't even use a condom. He took me home and I sat on the toilet for an hour and then took a shower for like an hour -- well, you know. I was scared I would get pregnant, too.

"After that, I didn't care. It was like it was happening to someone else. He'd take me off in his truck and fuck me and then bring me home or to school or wherever. I'd just go, whatever. I'm amazed I never got pregnant. But then he stopped and went back to calling me ugly. And people started saying I was a slut. An ugly slut. He must have told people, or maybe they saw.

"And I can't talk to any of my friends. We don't talk. We don't do stuff together any more. There's no solidarity. Just staying alive takes everything we've got. I don't know what the others are going through. I don't know what Toshi went through, to try to kill herself like that, but it must have been bad.

"So now I just go to school and back and spend the rest of my time in my room. I can't get interested in school work, I'm flunking courses and I don't care. I'd probably spend every day stoned like Seth and Kurt, except that I don't want to get to school any earlier than I have to, and besides, my parents would have a cow if they smelled it on me. When you saw me, it was like the first time in weeks I'd been out. I was afraid the whole time somebody from school would be there and start picking on me, that's why I ran off."

She stopped talking and sat there, looking lost and miserable. It really hurt to see her like that. Finally I said, "would it help if I put my arm around you? I mean, I know you know me as a boy, and it might remind you of, well...."

"It's okay," she said, and I could see tears in her eyes and on her cheek. "I know you'd never be like Kevin, even if you were still a boy." I slid over to her and put my arm around her shoulder. She buried her face in my chest and sobbed silently for the longest time.

Teresa peeked in the door, then tiptoed over to the desk and got something out of the drawer. Ursula looked up, tried to smile at her, but then buried her face again.

"Would you like Teresa to stay?" I asked. She shrugged. Teresa sat down on the other side of her. I looked at Teresa and just said, "West High." She nodded.

When she'd stopped sobbing and was just sitting there rubbing her thumb idly over her knee, Teresa suggested, "would you like some hot chocolate? My dad likes to make some about now."

Ursula half laughed and said, "sure, why not?"

When Teresa went out, I said to Ursula, "you know, you could talk to my aunt and uncle. My aunt's a social worker, so she's probably heard stuff like that and might have some ideas. And she'd have to keep it confidential if you asked. My uncle's pretty smart. If nothing else, they'd give you a sympathetic ear."

While we were drinking our hot chocolate in the living room, Ursula saw some paper and a pencil on the coffee table and started doodling. I didn't pay any attention, Ursula had always doodled, but after a while, Teresa noticed and said, "hey, that's pretty good."

"Naw, it's just some doodling."

"I wish I could draw half as good as your 'doodles'."

Now I looked over, and I had to admit, it was pretty good. A picture of a tree with fairies on the branches and wolves stalking around in the grass. My aunt and uncle took a look. My aunt gave my uncle a look I couldn't figure out. I said, "you know, I have a friend, Sylvia, who likes to draw. I should introduce you to her. Maybe if you come back again...."

I looked around, suddenly wondering if it was okay to invite her without checking with them, but my uncle said, "sure, we'd love to see you again."

CHAPTER 41 -- My Plate is Full

My life was getting really complicated. What with school, romancing Doris, and trying to do something for Ursula, not to mention finding ways for Teresa and Jeff to have time together, and seeing our friends, well, it's like I had to have an appointment book to keep track of what was when.

One time, Doris came over for a sleep-over. At first, we thought she'd sleep in the guest room, but she said, no, she was happy to sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor. Then I couldn't bear to see her all alone on the floor, so I got out my sleeping bag and we snuggled on the floor. We didn't go any further, what with Teresa being there. Sometime in the night, Teresa got in with us, too, so I had Doris on one side and Teresa on the other. In a way, it was too much of a good thing, but it also felt really, really nice to have two people really liking me. Like having them next to me and snuggling made me feel liked in a way that just hanging out and talking didn't. It felt so nice and natural but different from anything, for a while, I thought I was dreaming it. Then, after I was sure it was real, I thought about Teresa wanting to be next to us. I thought: maybe Teresa is as hungry for snuggles as I sometimes am.

I was talking to Aunt Edith about what I could do for Ursula. She looked so miserable and beaten down, I wanted to cry. I wished there was a way to get her out of West High, but I didn't think her parents could afford private school, and I didn't think my Aunt and Uncle would want to take in another kid. All I could think of was to offer her a place where people would be nice to her and she wouldn't have to be afraid all the time. So I talked to my friends and we found Saturdays and Sundays when we thought she could come over and hang out with us. I called her up and asked her.

Ursula had bad news. "Martin -- I mean, Melanie -- my parents say I can't go hanging out. My teachers say I'm flunking everything. I have to stay home and study until I get my grades up. But when I try, I just feel like, what's the use? I can't even look at my homework."

I thought for a minute. "You know, I could help you with your homework. I'm tutoring people in math at Gabriel. Maybe some of my friends would help you, too. Do you think you'd have an easier time if you had people there encouraging you?"

She perked up a little. "I don't know. I could ask my parents, though."

"Gabriel School seems to have a reputation for being super-nerdy, maybe they'd believe that we'd spend an afternoon hanging out doing schoolwork. I mean, it would be true, we won't lie about it. But it's always easier when you're not alone. I don't think I'd have done as well if it weren't for Teresa doing her homework at the same time."

She said she'd talk to her parents. They might want to talk to my aunt and uncle, though. So I told Teresa and her parents. Teresa rolled her eyes and said, "what are you getting me into now?" But she said she was down with helping Ursula study. She'd seen how awful Ursula looked.

I'd told Doris and Sylvia and their friends about Ursula and they were sympathetic. When I told them about the homework situation, they were less happy, but said they'd try to spare some time. Sylvia spoke for everyone when she said, "It's not like we don't already spend most of our waking hours just on our own schoolwork."

The next evening, Ursula's parents called up and talked to my aunt and uncle. It seems her parents weren't mean, but they were really worried and didn't know what to do. I think hearing from my aunt and uncle that we were the kind of kids to actually focus on schoolwork and not screw around and that they'd keep an eye on things made them willing to give it a try.

So Ursula came over the next Saturday with a bunch of books and a list of assignments to work on. I helped her with math, Teresa helped her with English and writing. Ursula turned out to not need much help. She knew how to do the stuff, she just needed to not be so depressed before she could do it. A lot of the time she was just working by herself while we did our own thing and sometimes brought her hot chocolate and snacks. I actually saw here smile once or twice. By dinner time, she'd gotten them all done. She looked really depressed at the idea of having to go home. I'd hoped to spend the evening with Doris, but I thought Ursula deserved some fun time, since she'd worked so hard. We got the okay from her parents and Teresa and Ursula and I went over to the church basement to hang out with Sylvia and Doris and them. I got Ursula to do some drawings for Sylvia, and Sylvia did some, and they got along great. And I got some time with Doris. Ursula's parents picked her up around 10:00 and dropped me and Doris at Doris's and Teresa at home. So it all worked out.

Ursula's parents were impressed that she'd gotten everything done, so they were happy to have her come over again. She came over for a Sunday afternoon, and Sylvia dropped by. Ursula rushed through her work so she could do drawings with Sylvia. The third time she came, I noticed she'd gotten her Goth look together. She said she'd gotten "dressed up" just to come over. She'd dyed her hair red and green and put fresh nail polish on. Doris came by that time. Sylvia had her over one time for studying and a sleepover. But she still looked miserable when it was time for her to go home.

On the lighter side, Teresa's friends had been after me to go to school wearing Teresa's petticoat, but in a friendly way. After they promised they would have my back if I had any trouble, I wore it to school. I felt really conspicuous, the way my skirt stuck out, and I was sure everyone was looking at it, but nobody said anything, not even the teachers. Well, some of my friends said stuff at lunch, but they were all saying how cute it looked. I think some of the boys were sneaking peeks, but they didn't say anything. It took some getting used to sitting down and getting up, though, because I had to arrange the skirt and petticoat so it wouldn't show. I tried to make it look like I'd been doing it all my life and I was doing it without thinking. In the afternoon I realized I'd need to undress for gym and then everyone would see it, but by now I was feeling braver. I hadn't gotten into trouble yet. So I just took it off like I did anything else and put it in my locker, and after gym I put it on and acted like it was normal. Two of the girls did come over and say they thought it was pretty, but they weren't sure they'd have the courage to do it themselves. All in all, it was pretty positive. In fact, when I got home, I didn't want to take it off.

The church basement coffee house had a Hallowe'en party the Saturday before Hallowe'en. Ursula came dressed as Morticia, from the Addams Family. She even had some really wilted roses with lots of thorns; she said the guy at the flower shop had just given them to her 'cause he couldn't sell them. Teresa's friends scrounged up a short light blue peasant dress and a bonnet and had me go as Little Bo Peep. They insisted on putting make-up on me, including ridiculously rosy cheeks. It was my first time wearing make-up and while it did look cool, I didn't like the feel of it on my skin. They talked Carol into dressing up as one of my sheep. Teresa decided to be the Snow Queen. Jeff and Nick came as zombies. I told them it wasn't much of a stretch. Ellen was a mermaid, with a green sequined hobble skirt that looked sort of like a tail and a skimpy green sequined bra. Doris came as Abe Lincoln and Sylvia as a pirate. Even Dennis and his friends came: I guess he'd gotten over being so upset with me. Dennis came as Dracula and Zeke as a knight.

Yeah, Zeke. That night, Zeke spent a lot of time hanging around Doris and me. He really hammed up the knight stuff, saying a lot of thees and thous and fetching us drinks and stuff pretending he was slaying a dragon. As we were about to go home, he came over and awkwardly asked us if he could hang out with our crowd. Doris and Teresa said, "sure." On the way home, we talked about it.

"You know," said Doris, "I don't think I've ever asked somebody about hanging out, we just kind of did it. You know, you say, let's go to so-and-so's."

"Well, you asked me to hang out with you," I said.

"Well, you were a special case. You were too clueless to just show up, so we had to kind of give you a shove."

"Thanks -- I think," I said, sort of insulted, but not really.

"That's all right, we love just the way you are," said Doris. Teresa was sitting next to me, and she leaned over and gave me a hug, or as much of a hug as you can give someone when you're both belted into your seat. Then she started singing the song; you know, "I love you just the way you are."

I continued. "Anyway, maybe Zeke's the same. He seems to think he has to put on some kind of act for anyone to like him. Anyway, I think I'll make a point of letting him know when we're doing something."

"I guess that makes you his social secretary," said Teresa.

"More like his social worker," I said. "Or the clueless leading the clueless." Even more for my plate. Ursula, now Zeke. God! What's a loser from West High like me doing here, anyway?

I couldn't help thinking every now and then about how I was feeling so different about things now. A year ago, I would have thought wearing a dress was a fate worse than death, and as for looking pretty? Ugh. As for the sex change, it was like my life was over. But now I was dressing like a girl and (mostly) acting like a girl, and enjoying it. I even wanted to be pretty sometimes. I mean, some of it was a pain, like the harrassment, or having to be "ladylike" sometimes, but mostly it was fun. Maybe even better than being a boy.

CHAPTER 42 -- Broken Glass

It was a dark and stormy night.

I've always wanted to start a story with that line. I guess starting a chapter that way is sort of like that. Anyway, it was a dark and stormy night in early November, and I was once again having a "sleepover" at Doris's house. Doris had somehow gotten a vibrator, so after we went to bed and turned out the light, she got it out. We knew how you were supposed to use it, but it was more fun to pretend we didn't. We'd tried it on ears, necks, breasts, and we'd even held it in our mouths while it was running. The storm was so loud, we figured we didn't have to be all that quiet, and we were giggling and laughing like crazy. We'd thrown our nightgowns on the floor, and Doris was about to try it on my clitoris, when suddenly there was this huge crash over by her desk and a blast of cold, wet wind started coming in. Doris fumbled for the bedside lamp. When she turned it on, we saw a huge branch, as big around as my leg, sticking in the window and lying on her desk, and there were bits of glass and wood and leaves and papers everywhere. Including on her nightshirt and my nightgown, the pretty one Teresa had given me.

I was about to get off the bed and walk over there, but Doris yelled, "stay on the bed. Do you want to get glass in your feet and have to go to the emergency room? Let me get my slippers on, you stay here."

About then, the door burst open, and Doris's father turned on the light and looked in. Her mother was right behind. They looked at us and then at the tree branch. I was so embarrassed. There we were, stark naked on the bed. I was sure they'd throw me out, maybe both of us. I mean, not just sex, but lesbian sex!

Her father said, "you girls stay on the bed. Wait for us to clean up the glass. We don't want you getting splinters. Tabby, you wait here, I'll go fetch a broom and the vacuum."

As we sat their waiting, I thought about pulling the top sheet over me, but then thought I would just draw attention to myself. I guess Doris was embarrassed, too, because she said, "mom, it isn't what you think."

Her mother shook her head with a funny smile and gently said, "Dor, you don't have to lie to us. It's okay."

About then, I noticed the vibrator -- on the bed, in plain view. The jig is up, I thought. Doris sounded confused: "what do you mean?"

"I mean, if you and Melanie want to have sex together, or not to, or do something else, it's fine. I know you care about each other and wouldn't hurt anyone." She gave another one of those funny smiles. "You've always done what you thought best, and it's worked out pretty well. You're seventeen, so we thought you might start, well, experimenting. We'd glad that if you are, you're doing it where we know where you are and know you're safe --" she glanced at the hole where the window used to be "-- well, mostly safe -- and not in the back of a car or some other awful place."

"But -- why didn't you say something?" she gasped.

"We assumed you'd tell us when you were ready. We didn't want to invade your privacy."

I don't know where the conversation would have gone, but her father showed up with a broom with a rag on it, a brush and dustpan, a big trash can, and the vacuum cleaner. He must have had five hands to hold it all. He started pushing the glass and everything else on the floor away from the door and the bed, while her mom reached over and carefully picked up the bigger pieces of glass and wood. Once they'd cleaned and vacuumed a path to the dresser, her mom asked, "which drawer are your nightshirts in?"

"The bottom one. Oh, and please get a second one for Melanie. She looks chilly." I was shaking, but I think it was more because I was scared and blown away by the whole thing. After we both had gotten something on, I noticed that the vibrator was still on the bed. I saw her mom pull open the drawer in the bedside table and casually put the vibrator in, like it was perfectly normal for your teen-aged daughter to have a vibrator, but she should put it away when she's not using it.

"Come on downstairs, I'll make up the sofa for you. You can't sleep in here tonight. Melanie, we'll get the glass out of your nightgown tomorrow, I know you'll want to keep it."

By the time Doris and I had opened out the couch for a bed, her mom showed up with sheets and a whole pile of blankets and pillows. We made up the bed while her mom went into the kitchen and put something on the stove. "I'll make a nice pot of herb tea to settle you down," she said from the kitchen.

When we were done, we sat on the edge of the sofa bed. I was still shivering, but Doris looked stunned, like someone had hit her with a baseball bat. Her mom came over and took her in her arms and held her. I saw tears dripping from Doris's eye, but she didn't make a sound. Her mom must have seen how scared I was, because she said, "don't worry, Melanie, no one's going to do anything to you. You're fine. Come here," and she reached out to me and hugged me together with Doris. We stayed that way until the tea kettle started whistling.

Her dad came down about the time her mom brought out the tray with the teapot and the cups. "I got the worst of it cleaned up," he said, "and I pulled the desk away from the window so Doris's books and papers won't get ruined any more than they already are. I rescued Melanie's bag, too. I assume her clothes are inside. We'll work on it some more in the morning." We sat around the coffee table and drank our tea and didn't say anything.

Her mom said, "I think you two should get to bed." Her dad came over and gave each of us a hug. A man hug, but it was nice, all the same. Then her mom put her arms around Doris again and held her and stroked her back and head and murmered, "It's all right," over and over. Then her parents turned out the lights and went upstairs to bed.

I put my arms around Doris and pulled her into bed and tossed the covers over her. She was crying silently, but then started to sob. "What is it?" I asked.

"I don't know. It's like, I don't know, to think that all this time they've known what's been going on with me and all my boyfriends and girlfriends. It's like I've been walking around naked all this time and didn't even know it." She went back to crying on my chest while I held her.

We must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, the sun was coming in the window and I could hear her mom bustling around in the kitchen. Doris was still asleep with her head on my chest.

Doris was in a better mood, especially after she'd eaten something. She and her dad worked on cutting the tree branch off that was sticking in the window and putting plastic sheeting over the window opening. I wanted to help, but they didn't want me messing up my nice clothes, which is all I had brought to wear. So her mom and I worked on getting glass splinters out of my nightgown, Doris's night shirt, and the other random clothes and rugs that had been on the floor and gotten broken glass rained on them.

CHAPTER 43 -- More Than A Friend

Things were never the same between Doris and me after that. She didn't want to have me over for sleep-overs, because she couldn't stand knowing her parents knew what was happening.

"I don't understand," I said, talking to her on the phone one evening. "Isn't it great that they aren't getting all weird about you having sex? Lots of kids would die for parents who were cool about it." I kind of whispered, so nobody at our place could hear me.

"I don't know, it makes me feel like a little kid again. Having to have my parents' permission. And it's kind of weird thinking of them being mixed up in, well, what we were doing together. I mean, what are they going to do next, give me a dildo for Christmas?"

"You'd rather they were mad at you?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Does this mean you don't want to make love any more?"

"Look, Mel, it's not personal, okay? I like you a lot, and I want to, but -- I don't want to do it with anyone if my parents -- well, I know it sounds stupid, but I can't relax knowing that they're, you know."

"Will you at least keep being my friend?" I was suddenly afraid it would turn out like it did with Dennis.

"I'll always be your friend, Melanie. More than a friend. I've stayed more than a friend with all the girls I've, you know, been intimate with."

I couldn't help teasing her. "Have there been so many?" I sort of giggled, so she wouldn't think I was really putting her down.

"That's gross," she said. After a pause, she continued, "only three. A girl named Alice, who kind of introduced me to doing it with girls. She's in college now. There's you. And one other."

"Sylvia?" I guessed.

"How did you know?"

"I didn't, really. But you all seem to be more than just like, people who hang out together. Anyway, I won't tell anyone." I continued, "would you at least be willing to come over to our place sometimes? I think Teresa likes you, and she'd miss you if she didn't see you."

"I don't know. Not right now." She sounded really down.

After dinner the next day, I made a point of washing up in the kitchen with Aunt Edith, so it was just us two. I asked her, "you work with a lot of teenagers. If they're having sex, do their parents usually know about it?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I have a friend -- yeah, it really is a friend, not me -- and she was having sex with --" I tried to come up with something that would make it less obvious that it was me and Doris. "-- with her boyfriend regularly, and then she found out her parents had figured it out, and even though they were okay with it, she was really weirded out just because they knew. She thought parents never know unless they catch them."

She looked at me for a few minutes. I always had the feeling she knew more than she let on. "I think most parents don't want to know. But if they are willing to accept the idea, I think they can usually guess."

I went back to washing, and she went back to drying. "You know," she added, sounding like she was being very careful with what she said, "if you want to talk to me about any sexual relationships you might be having or thinking of having, my door is always open."

"You wouldn't get mad if Teresa or I told you we were thinking of having sex?"

"No, I wouldn't. I'm not going to encourage you, I think it's the kind of thing you need to decide for yourself. But if you need advice or help, or, for instance, birth control, or just a shoulder to cry on, I'm there for you. You and Teresa. Maybe you can let her know that."

That weekend, we were all over at Sylvia's, and Doris was really different. She didn't say much, and when I tried to snuggle up next to her, she didn't exactly push me away, but she didn't put her arm around me like she usually did.

"What's up, Doris?" I asked. "You aren't giving your opinion about stuff, or talking about feminism or capitalism or the environment or power or anything, like you usually do. You sound really depressed."

"I just feel like, who wants to hear the opinions of some stupid kid? I don't know anything, I just like to think I do."

We all started talking at once.

"What do you mean, 'stupid kid'?" said Sylvia. "You're really smart and you've read a lot of stuff. And you do know a lot of stuff."

"I don't. I just kid myself that I know anything, and I've fooled you all into believing it."

"That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard," said Sylvia.

"You know a lot more than I do," added Judy.

"Is this some kind of, 'I'm a girl, so I must be dumb' BS?" said Jeff. "Don't tell me you buy into that sexist crap." I'd never thought of Jeff as a feminist, so this was quite a surprise to me.

"Dor, what's going on?" said Teresa. "Why are you suddenly so down on yourself?"

She turned away from us. She looked like she was trying not to cry. Finally, she said, "I don't want to talk about it."

Suddenly she reminded me of some of the guys at West High who thought they were hot stuff. If something happened that punctured their image, they'd get morose and say stuff like, "I don't want to talk about it." Even some of the other "losers" would get like that.

"Let's leave her alone," I said. "I think we're just making her feel worse." We went back to talking about stuff like movies, or what we wanted for Christmas, or what we'd like to do for vacation, and of course griping about teachers. Sylvia told us about how the library was going to show some of her drawings. Jeff talked about the latest drama with his band, which was always on the edge of breaking up. I sat next to Doris and put my arm around her. I didn't want to bug her, but I didn't want her to feel all left alone, either.

We decided to go out for pizza, we figured Sylvia's parents had paid for our pizza too many times already. Everyone else was walking ahead of us, Doris and I were straggling behind. I stopped and look straight at Doris.

"I don't know if this will help, but I want to be honest. I think you're amazing, and someday you're going to do great things, and when I read about you or hear about you on TV, I'll be able to say to my friends, I knew her way back when. Even if you don't believe in yourself right now, we believe in you. I believe in you."

Doris got sort of a lopsided smile and said, "I guess I really do have an admirer. And, hey, you never know, maybe you won't be saying that because you'll be with me." We hugged each other and kissed.

I said, "I'm proud to be one of your admirers." Then, hand in hand, we double-timed it to catch up with the rest of them.

CHAPTER 44 -- Eric, Again

Things were going okay with Eric. Eric kept his side of the truce -- he didn't try to get near me, or talk to me, or even talk about me. I tried to act like I was ignoring him, but I kept catching myself trying to see what he was doing or hear what he was saying. I couldn't hear the words, but I could tell that he was getting along great some of the time, but sometimes I'd hear, "Eric, no!" or "That wasn't okay!" and there'd be some serious sounding conversation and he would look dejected for a while.

Teresa told me some of it. "Basically, he's a nice guy, but sometimes he comes out with some really sexist stuff or he does something that's not okay, and we have to yell at him and then explain things to him. It's like no one ever taught him how to act, or they taught him the wrong things. But he is getting better. Slowly."

"I wonder if we should try talking to each other again. You know, me admitting he exists, and vice versa. On a trial basis. I mean, we can't pretend each other doesn't exist forever." Teresa agreed, so I called Reverend Jen and we worked it out for the next youth group night.

I thought Eric would come over as soon as I got there, but he just stayed with other people. Finally, I went over and said, "hi."

"The pastor told me we didn't have to avoid each other, but I thought you hated me so much, you wouldn't want to have anything to do with me."

"I never hated you. I hated how you were treating me. If you can, like, not touch me without asking first, and give me space when I ask, and, yeah, call me by my name, I'll be okay with you. And I'd rather not have to avoid you. It was getting really weird."

We didn't say anything for a little bit. Eric was looking down at the floor. Then he said, still looking down, "I'm sorry about how I treated you that first night. I think I understand how it felt to you. I just didn't think. And it was weird. I don't know why I acted like that. I don't usually act like that with anybody. I think I was nervous or something. I was a real jerk."

"Forgiven," I said. I hated seeing him so down on himself. "Why don't we try talking like normal people? You know, talk about school, or what we do for fun, or rag on our least favorite teachers. Or argue about pizza toppings. You know, 'anchovie lovers unite! You have nothing to lose but your pepperoni!'" That got a little smile out of him.

Over the next couple of youth groups, we talked a lot. Part of it was that he was new, but part of it was that except for the four of us, everyone went to Greenwood. It's not that they were exactly unfriendly, but they had all that school stuff in common and got tired of having to explain stuff that everybody except us knew all about. So a lot of the time we ended up together.

I talked about Gabriel School, which he thought was fascinating, it was so different from anything he'd ever seen in school. He talked about Hollingsworth, which seemed like a nicer version of West High. I found out that he had an old truck which he repaired himself. He'd even rebuilt the engine by himself. He lived with just his mom, his parents had gotten divorced when he was around five and his father didn't go to much trouble to see him. His mom did her best, but she worked long hours to support them, and she was trying to find a boyfriend who might be a half-decent stepdad for Eric, which took up a lot of whatever free time she had. He worked after school every day to bring in some more money. It sounded like a tough life.

Once we ran out of school and home stuff to talk about, we'd talk about how we saw things, or how people relate. I would talk to him about stuff we'd learned in Respect class, and it would always blow him away. For instance, all he knew about relating to girls was acting macho and trying to impress them.

"Isn't it a drag to have to pretend to be something you aren't all the time?" I asked. "And what good is it if they like what you pretend to be, but you don't know if they like who you really are?"

"Yeah, when you put it that way, it sounds stupid, but what else is there? I mean, if you like a girl, what do you do? I just hang around them and try to act cool, but they don't seem to get the message."

"You could try just telling them you're interested."

"You mean, just say it?"

"Yeah, you could say, Suzy so-and-so, I like you. If she acts like it's okay, you could go on to suggest some things to do together."

"You mean, like, 'Melanie, I like you'?"

"That's it." Typical Eric, to use my name.

"Melanie, I like you," he repeated.

"Yeah, that's pretty good."

"Melanie." He looked me in the eye. "I like you. I mean it." I just stared at him. It didn't compute at first.

"Aw, jeez, I guess I did it wrong again."

"No, ..." I felt really tongue-tied. "No, you did it just right. It's just that -- I don't know, I don't know what. I feel so confused."

He looked dejected again. "I shouldn't have said it."

"No, if that's how you feel, you should say it. It's a really nice thing to say. It's just that, well, I need some time to figure out how I feel about it. It's sort of unexpected."

We had opening circle, but I was too distracted to say anything. Then we had the topic, and I was busy thinking about that. But then we broke up into small groups. Eric was in my group and we ended up sitting next to each other. I kept remembering how he put his arm around me that first time, and I felt like I really wanted him to do it now. I don't know why, I just did. It was all I could think of. When we were done, I got up my courage.

"Eric, I don't know how you feel about it, but I was just thinking -- well, I'd like it if you put your arm around me."

"I thought it really bothered you if I touched you."

"Only if you do it without asking. That's all I wanted, for you to respect how I feel." When we got back into the circle, Eric sat down in front of a couch and I sat next to him and he put his arm around my shoulders. It felt so nice. I leaned my head on his shoulder and it felt even nicer. He leaned his head on top of mine. I whispered into his ear, "Eric: I think I like you, too." Reverend Jen and some of the kids on the opposite side of the circle were looking at us, and Reverend Jen kind of smiled but didn't say anything. I think word got around by mental telepathy or something, because other people would turn around and secretly look at us. Eric had a few things to say about the topic, but I didn't. I think I was distracted. Actually, I don't remember what the topic was. It didn't make much of an impression, I guess. At least, not compared with snuggling with Eric.

When pizza came, Eric and I sat at the same table. Teresa joined us, and then Amy.

"You know we're going to tease you unmercifully," said Teresa.

"I don't know about teasing, but I think you all looked so cute together," said Amy. "Eric and Melanie in love. We could make a movie about it."

"We're only in like," I insisted. Then I looked at Eric and he looked kind of hurt, so I added, "So far, anyway."

"Keep us posted," said Teresa. "Weekly progress reports."

Eric and I found a spot on a couch and he put his arm around me again and I leaned on him again, too. He started playing with my hair. Amy came over and sat next to me and leaned onto me, so I put my arm around her. Then one of the Greenwood boys came over and tried to lie on our laps. I don't know who else would have tried to pile on or how, but Reverend Jen picked that moment to call us together.

When it was time to go, Eric kind of awkwardly said, "are we 'in like' enough that we can trade phone numbers? And maybe ask you out sometime?"

"Sure," I said. But he still looked nervous even after we'd put the numbers in our phones.

"Would you get upset if I happened to ask if I could, uh, kiss you?"

I couldn't resist teasing him. "Why? Is that something you might just happen to say?" But then he looked so sad, I couldn't keep it up. "Yes, I'd love it if you kissed me. If you'll give me a hug, too. But -- well, I'm not a very good kisser."

He didn't say anything, he just put his arms around me and looked me in the eye, real close. He was a few inches taller than me, and I suddenly thought, I'd probably be his same size if I hadn't gotten that treatment. Maybe like him in other ways, too.

He gently kissed me on the mouth, pulled back, then did it again. Then I squeezed him to me. Teresa came by to tell me her dad was here to pick us up, so I said goodbye to Eric.

In the car, Teresa said to me, "you are definitely smitten with him. I see he's got your number."

"My phone number. He wants to get together again. A date, I guess. I don't know when I'm going to squeeze it in, though."

I was busy with schoolwork that week, so I sort of forgot about Eric, but not really. So when he called me Wednesday night, it was a surprise, but it's not like I wasn't kind of hoping for it, too.

"Do you want to see a movie tomorrow night?"

"Thanks for asking, but weeknights I have to study. It'd have to be a weekend."

"You study every weeknight?"

"That's a Gabriel School thing, I guess. They don't want idle hands, or something."

"How about Saturday?"

"I already agreed to go out with a bunch of my friends. I might be able to manage Friday night, though. I could do my Friday night homework on Saturday morning. What movie?"

"I could manage Friday night, I'm not working then. I was thinking of 'District 99.' It's a sci-fi movie about a future where the rich control everything and keep everybody practically like slaves, and this guy who's trying to start a revolution."

"Sounds violent and depressing. I'm not sure I'm up for that. Is there anything playing that's a little more, uh, upbeat?"

We went through the movie listings and settled on one called 'Who?,' about two guys who aren't related but look exactly alike and end up in the same vacation town and everyone mixes them up.

On Friday, Eric came by to pick me up right after dinner. My aunt and uncle invited him in and kind of looked him over. They were friendly and welcoming, but they made sure they had his address and phone numbers and my uncle kind of surreptitiously got a look at Eric's truck. Once we were on our way, Eric asked, "are you parents always that suspicious of guys?"

"My aunt and uncle, not my parents. I think they're a little protective of me because I've had some bad experiences with high-school kids. This is the first time I've gone out with someone who wasn't from Gabriel School. And they don't know much about you. Well, actually, they do know about how you and I, let's say, didn't exactly get off on the best foot when we first met."

"I guess I'll have to be on my best behavior, then."

"What other kind of behavior were you thinking of being on?"

"Jeez, can't I do anything right?"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't tease. Hey, this is the truck you fixed up, right? What kind of stuff did you have to do to it?" A nice safe topic. It turned out it was also one he could talk about for hours. I breathed a sigh of relief. But I was going to have to watch my smart-ass comments in the future.

The movie was better than I expected. I ended up laughing so hard I almost choked on some popcorn and Eric had to pound my back so I could breathe again. After the movie, we went to my local ice cream shop. I had hot chocolate and strawberry ice cream, and Eric had a coffee float.

"You know," I said, "I think this is the first real date I've ever been on."

"You've never been on a date before?"

"Oh, I've gone out with friends and hung out and seen movies and stuff, but this is the first time somebody's, like, asked me out and planned an evening together. You're my first." I kind batted my eyes at him. But then I suddenly felt a little weird. It was so girly and cutsy-dumb. I mean, I wanted to act like a girl and live like one, but this was getting kind of over the top. Was I going to turn into one of those girls I could never stand to be around?

Eric didn't seem bothered by it, though. He just said, "put it there!" and we high-fived.

Eric brought me back around 11:00. My aunt and uncle were still up and invited Eric in for coffee and cakes, but he said he had to get home, since he was working in the morning. He gave me a hug and a kiss on the porch, and then he left.

CHAPTER 45 -- Remembrance

Doris called me up and asked if I was going to the Trangender Day of Remembrance service.

"Transgender what?"

She put on her most patient, explaining-to-idiots voice. "Transgender. Day. Of. Remembrance. It's a ceremony to commemorate the TG people who have been killed in the past year just for being TG. They're having one in town next Tuesday night. You should come."

"What's that got to do with you or me?"

"Uh, didn't you 'trans' from boy to girl about a year ago? I think that means you count as 'trans'gender. And I'm going because I know someone who is 'trans'-gender. You."

When she put it that way, I did sound pretty stupid. "Okay, I'll rush through my homework to get ready."

When Teresa heard about it, she wanted to go, too, and then her parents thought they'd go. So we had transportation.

The ceremony, or whatever it was, was in a Unitarian church. Someone had gotten the idea to put up posterboards, sort of like what you have at a science fair, for some of the people. Each one was for a different person. They had pictures, newspaper clippings or print-outs of on-line stories about the person who was killed, and sometimes things people had written or drawn. One had a hair ribbon that the victim used to wear. I noticed that a few were from around here. One was a 22-year-old TG prostitute who had been found downtown beaten and strangled with her bra. There was a police report on her board saying they never found the killer. They only knew her street name, so they couldn't look for next of kin. The writings on her poster were from other prostitutes. I wondered if she had a family. I wondered if they'd have admitted they were related to her. There was another for a trans man in the capital. I didn't know there even were women who got themselves turned into men. She was shot by some coworkers when they found out.

The ceremony was pretty simple. They'd read off a name, tell a little bit about him or her, and someone would light a little candle and take it back to where they were sitting or standing. Each time it was a different person. I ended up lighting one for a trans boy in Mexico. There were more victims than people attending, so most of us ended up with several candles. They had the lights out, just a couple of candles in front to see the words and to light our candles, so it started out dark and got lighter. When they'd read off all the names, we all stood in silence for a couple of minutes. Someone from the newspaper took some pictures. Then we walked out and blew out our candles and left them on tables by the posters. I started to think: I could have been one of them. Maybe in the future I might get murdered, and they'd read my name off next November. It felt creepy.

There were a bunch of people from the LGBTQ center in town who told me they were trans. Some looked like normal people and some looked a little funny. I didn't feel like talking to them, but Doris and Teresa told them my story. They thought I should come to their meetings, but I said I was pretty busy already. To be honest, I just wanted to live like a normal girl. I didn't want to think about any of that other stuff.

The next week was Thanksgiving. This year, my family came over. My brothers were pretty cool, they called me Melanie and treated me like their sister. My mom and Dad tried calling me Melanie, but you could tell it was hard for them. After dinner, we were all hanging out in the living room, when my mom asked me, "what do you think the future is going to be like for you?"

"I'll try to get into a college, if I can afford it. After that, get a job, I guess. Isn't that what everyone does?"

Then she asked, looking pretty uncomfortable, "do you think you'll have a family?"

"If I meet a nice guy, maybe." She sort of winced, but tried to smile. "Or, who knows, maybe a nice girl."

When she heard that, she turned away and said, "God forbid," and wrung her hands. I guess girl-on-girl action was too weird for her, even if one of the girls used to be her son. Then she put on a kind of fake smile and faced me and started asking me about school.

After my family had left, my uncle talked to me.

"I looked into what you'd need to do to get a learner's permit or a license. The problem is that your birth certificate says 'male', so DMV will only issue you a license that says 'male', but you look female, so they might not believe you're you when you try to get the license. And even if the picture looks like you, they may think it's a fake. Nobody really knows what will cause problems and what won't.

"As for changing your birth certificate, the problem is that you're under 18. They won't change the sex on a birth certificate before someone has SRS. We can argue that the gene therapy counts as SRS, but the guidelines say that you can't have SRS before you're 18. So they may kick up a fuss about your age.

"It may be complicated and we may need to go to court to straighten things out. Is this something you want to do? Are you ready to commit to what may be a long unpleasant slog?"

I thought for a while. "I'm not sure how I feel about it yet. Part of me wants to do it so I can live like a normal something, and part of me doesn't want to kill off my old self. And part of me is just afraid of doing anything that might, you know, mess up the situation I have now. Can I have some time to think about it some more?"

"Of course. Take as much time as you need."

On Saturday, Ursula came over and we hung out with Doris and Sylvia. And Dennis. It seems Ursula and Dennis had hit it off. I didn't ask her, but I wondered if Dennis not being ready for sex was part of what she liked about him. Maybe it made her feel safe. And I knew Dennis can be really nice and gentle. They spent a lot of time talking to each other and some time snuggling on the couch. It hurt a little, seeing Dennis doing with Ursula what I'd wished he'd kept doing with me, but then I told myself, Ursula needs this more than me. And I've got Doris and now Eric, sort of.

I mentioned to Doris that Eric and I were getting to be like boyfriend and girlfriend. But I told her she was still special to me. "Being with Eric doesn't mean I'm not willing to have sleepovers with you, if you ever feel like you want to." She told me she was glad I felt that way and I would always be special to her. Then she kissed me and we kind of hugged and snuggled. One time we were on the couch and Dennis and Ursula were there, too, so we all got squeezed together real tight.

CHAPTER 46 -- The Yule Season

Eric and I started going out together once a week or so. Sometimes we'd just go for a walk. One time, he took me skating. I'd never skated before, so he had to hold me up a lot, which was fun. And sometimes, if we were walking and no one was around, we'd stop and hug and kiss for a while. Sometimes he'd stroke my back. It seemed a little like he was feeling me up, but it felt good, and I'd stroke his back and the back of his head while we were kissing.

Sometimes, when it was almost time to go home, we would sit next to each other in the truck and put our arms around each other or kiss and stroke each other's face. One time, he started to stroke my front and touched my breast. Then he stopped. "I guess I should ask you first, shouldn't I?"

"Yes, you should ask, but it's okay if you want to -- touch my breast. Asking first makes it so much more --" I started to blush. "-- sexy, romantic, something like that."

Eric had one arm around my shoulder and went back to kissing me, while with his other hand he just lightly touched my breast through my clothes. I could see he was trying, but it wasn't doing anything for me, so I took his wrist. He pulled away.

"I'm doing it wrong, aren't I? I should stop." He sounded hurt.

"No. I mean, I want you to keep doing it, I just wanted to show you how you could do it so I'd like it more. Here." And I tried to get him to cup my breast with his hand and caress it, but he was stiff and hard to move. It was like he was taking it personally that anybody had to show him anything.

"Eric, can you just relax?" I gave him a long kiss, hoping it would get his mind off his pride, and I took his hand and caressed it and kissed it. I knew explaining it wouldn't work, I'd have to get him in the right mood to let me do it. Damn it, why do boys have to be so complicated? I finally got him to caress my breasts, but it was a struggle. And we had to go home right after that.

The next time we tried it, it went better, but it was still awkward. "Eric, I hate to say it, but the front seat of your truck isn't the most comfortable place to be, well, exploring each other's bodies."

"We could try doing it at my place. My mom is out most evenings, so we'd be alone." We decided we'd try it if things worked out sometime.

It was getting near Christmas, and Eric invited me to a Christmas party at one of his friends. It wasn't too bad, but I didn't know anybody and there was drinking. They had a mistletoe over a doorway and people were having fun catching other people under it and demanding a kiss. At least three guys got me to kiss them that way. They were nice about it, so I didn't mind. And Eric got a few kisses that way, too. But then some of the kids there started insisting I should drink something and I got afraid that they were trying to get me drunk, so I asked Eric if we could leave.

"We have an hour or two before you need to get home. Do you want to stop by my place and, well, mess around a little? Only if you want to, and only as much as you want to." I said yes, and next thing I knew, we were in his mom's bed and he was kissing me and caressing my breasts and back and everything.

Pretty soon I had my blouse and bra off and he had his shirt off and our hands were everywhere. By now, he seemed okay with me guiding him. I didn't need guidance because of course I'd been a boy and had an idea what he might like. I worried a little that he'd wonder why he didn't need to explain or show anything to me, but he didn't say anything. He started to slide his hand under my skirt, but I stopped him and said, "not tonight."

"You don't like it?"

"It's the kind of thing I think I'd like if I felt really, really comfortable with you. But we're not there yet."

We went back to cuddling and caressing and kissing, but I could tell he was disappointed. Pretty soon we had to leave, anyway. Why couldn't he just snuggle and kiss, anyway?

It sounds like all I was thinking about was sex. I mean, I was thinking about it a lot, but aren't teenagers supposed to be obsessed with sex? But I was doing other things. School. And friends. Doris was working on college applications and freaking out.

"I've applied to a dozen places, but I'm sure I won't get in. I know there are people with much better grades and test scores. And extra-curriculars! I haven't done anything! There are people who do a dozen sports, are in all the school plays, have been to Africa. How can I compete with them?"

She had her heart set on going to University of Chicago, and even though she'd applied other places, she was convinced that her life wouldn't be worth living if she didn't get in there. I tried to calm her down. I told her I thought she had a good chance and if they didn't accept her, it was their loss. It didn't seem to help. Mostly I just held her and caressed her and listened to her rave. I'd hold her for a while, then she'd work on an application until it got too much for her and I had to hold her again.

The church basement coffee house had a Christmas party, so our Gabriel gang went, including Urusula. Eric had to work so he couldn't come, which made me sad but also kind of relieved for some reason. Alice, Doris's friend who was at college now, showed up, and they and Sylvia spent a lot of time catching up. I hung around them and they tried to include me, but it was mostly about stuff from before I knew any of them. Zeke was there and he hung around me quite a bit. I told him I had a boyfriend, but he said he just liked being around me. Teresa and Jeff were hanging out with everyone and even though you could tell they were a couple, they were pretty laid back about it. I realized it somehow wasn't like that between Eric and me, but I couldn't say why.

Christmas was pleasant. There isn't a whole lot to say about it, which is kind of why it was so nice. My family came over for Christmas Day, but the rest of the time we just kind of hung out, saw movies and stuff. It snowed, so we made snow men and snow women, had snowball fights, and generally relaxed.

The youth group had a sleep-over for New Years. We had music and dancing and games and a talent show. Eric and I danced a lot together, but I also danced with other people, including Teresa and Amy. At midnight, we lowered a glitz ball and everybody shouted and hugged and then we all piled up in a pile. Since the pile kept falling over, we had to keep piling up again. Finally, we got out sleeping bags. The boys were on one half of the room and the girls on the other, but Eric and I arranged to be close enough that if we stretched our arms out we could just hold hands. I don't think we were supposed to be that close, but Reverend Jen sort of looked the other way.

CHAPTER 47 -- The Ecstasy and the Agony

One of the bands I liked -- Black Rose -- was going to play at the arena at the University in town, so Eric got hold of tickets for Saturday night. I insisted on paying for mine, since the tickets were expensive and I knew money was tight at his place, and he gave in. So that night, Eric picked me up in his truck and promised to have me home by midnight.

The warm-up band was pretty good, even though we'd never heard of them. I think they called themselves the Hot Potatoes or something. They played a lot of songs that were easy to sing along to even though we'd never heard them before and there was a lot of call and response and clapping and stomping on cue. So we were all really worked up when Black Rose came out.

They were awful. I mean, the songs were good, but they did a lousy job of playing them. I think they were drunk or high or something. The drummer and the guitarist couldn't keep in sync. The lead singer kept losing track of the words. At one point, he wandered so close to the edge of the stage, he would have fallen off if people in the mosh pit hadn't pushed him back. One of the roadies came up and led him back to the middle of the stage and then sat on a speaker on stage keeping an eye on him.

After about twenty minutes of this, Eric and I just looked at each other and started working our way to the exit. I could see that other people had the same idea. By the time we got to the truck and headed for the parking lot exit, there was starting to be a line.

We had something like three hours before I had to be home, so we went over to Eric's place. His mother was out for the evening, so we had the place to ourselves. I'd been going back and forth about whether I was ready to go all the way with Eric and finally decided I'd do it. I left my coat and purse in the living room and we both went to his mother's room -- with its big bed -- to make out. Bit by bit, he took off his shirt and I took off my blouse and camisole and bra. Finally, I said, "it would be okay with me if we got naked." I'd imagined something really romantic, but it ended up with him sitting on one side of the bed taking his pants and socks off and me on the other taking off my skirt, tights, slip, and underwear. We got under the sheets and started exploring each others' bodies.

"I gotta know," said Eric. "Are we going to, you know, do it tonight? I mean, I'm cool with it if you don't want to, but I'd like to know one way or another."

I was starting to have a sort of out-of-body experience, but I managed to say, "yes, I'd like to. But let's take it slow and gentle. And -- do you have a condom?" I felt kind of stupid. I'd been thinking of making love, I could have perfectly well gotten one myself.

He looked sort of sheepish. "I've had a pack for a while."

We went back to feeling each other up. He felt up my breasts and ran his hand down my crotch. I felt up his chest and his butt. When I got to his penis, it was hard. He started to push it into my crotch.

"Please, take it a little slower." He went back to fondling me, but I could tell he was more interested in putting it in. I wanted it too, why couldn't he just be patient and wait for me to be ready? I could sort of feel my vagina clench up.

"Can you just gently stroke me? I need to relax down there." He tried, but I had to use my hand to show him and say "gentler, please" a few times. Once he had the hang of it, I stopped paying so much attention to him and started paying attention to how it felt. At one point, he got up and got a condom and went back to stroking me. Then he stopped to put it on. He tried to put his penis in, but I had to say, not yet. He seemed a little frustrated, but once he started fondling and stroking me I forgot about it. Finally, somehow I was ready and he got it in. And it felt good, almost as good as with Dennis. Feeling his body on me, his arms around me, hearing him moaning, it all felt good, and that was all I could think about, how good it was.

After I came, and I guess he came, too but I wasn't really paying attention, I just felt this glow. I couldn't help thinking how this would never have happened if that mix-up at the hospital hadn't happened. I couldn't help just blurting out how I felt.

"This was so nice. It's times like this when I'm glad I'm a girl. I'd never have had anything like this if I'd stayed a boy." It shows how high I was that I didn't think anything of saying it, even after I said it.

"What? What was that?" Eric asked. He sounded mostly puzzled. I suddenly got nervous about what I had said.

"What was what?"

"What you were saying. Something about staying a boy."

"I was just babbling."

"That's some weird babbling. Like, I don't know, you used to, what, pretend to be a boy?"

"It didn't mean anything, I just get these weird ideas," I protested.

"You're a lousy liar." It's true, I can't lie to save my life.

"What if I told you that I used to be a boy, but through some sort of medical mixup, I got turned from a boy into a girl?"

"I'd say that you were bullshitting me. Or maybe needed to see a shrink." He didn't say anything for a while. "Okay, I'll bite. Tell me your delusion. I want to hear it." He tried to make it sound like he was acting like it was a joke, but he sounded pretty tense.

"What if I said there was this gene-therapy lab at the university hospital and one of the things they were working on was something for guys that want to be, you know, women?"

"Go on." It sounded like an order.

"And I was in for a concussion, and they were going to give me this gene therapy thing to fix the concussion, only they got me mixed up with one of those--" I couldn't continue.

"You're -- you're not joking, are you?" His voice sounded kind of hollow. He suddenly sat up, pushed my legs apart, and stuck his head down by my crotch. "Oh, what's the use, I wouldn't know what to look for," he muttered. He stared at me from where he was sitting between my legs. "You're not making it up?"

I wanted to say, yeah, I made it up, but he'd already said I was a lousy liar. "I thought everyone knew." A lie. I knew he'd never heard about this. "I was even shown on television."

"Oh, yeah, I think I remember seeing something like that. Was that the news story where this boy was standing in front of the hospital and they were saying they'd given him this weird sex-change treatment?" He was sounding pretty upset. "That was you?" I hoped he would give up, but he didn't. I finally squeeked a tiny "yeah?" and gave him a don't-hit-me smile.

"You're really a guy!?" He started looking horrified. "The 'girl' I just fucked is really a guy!?" He started out slow and kind of dead, but was almost screaming when he finished. "A -- a she-male." He started backing away from me off the bed.

"Eric, please!" I pleaded.

"You mean all this time I've been going out with a guy? You pretended you were a girl to get me to fall for you? You made me think I was kissing a girl and making out with a girl and -- and fucking a girl, and all this time you were really a guy?"

"Eric, no!" I was crying, but he wasn't listening.

"You think I'm some kind of fag? You think I want to fuck guys? You think I want to kiss and hug and make out with guys?" He was screaming, "get away from me! Jesus, what have you done to me?" I rolled away from him, but kept looking at him over my shoulder in case he tried to do something to me.

I was afraid he'd kill me, but he went into the bathroom, still saying, "I've been fucking a guy. Oh, God!" I heard the water running. Next Day of Remembrance, they'll be saying my name, I thought.

I tried to get my clothes on as fast as I could. I wanted to be ready to run. But it was hard. First, I got my underpants on backwards and had to take them off and put them on again. When I tried to put my bra on, I couldn't feel the hooks, so it took forever. I gave up after I got two hooks on (I think.) I started to put my tights on, but realized they were inside out. My toe caught somewhere when I was putting the second leg on and I had to pull it off and redo it. How long do I have before he comes out and kills me? Camisole. Blouse -- half the buttons, and not the cuffs. Fumbling for the hook on the back of the skirt. Dragging the slip on under it. I could hear Eric taking a shower and still moaning, "oh, God! Oh God." I located my shoes and shoved my feet into them, then ran for the living room to collect my coat and purse. I tried to be quiet going out the door so maybe he wouldn't follow me right away. Down the front steps, onto the sidewalk, and into the darkness.

CHAPTER 48 -- Girl on the Run

I didn't know where I was going, I just knew I wanted to be far away from Eric whenever he decided to come after me. I saw the moon low in the sky and figured that must be West. I knew Teresa's house was west of here, so I found a street that was going that way and started walking.

At first, all I could think of was how upset I felt. I'd think about the sex and then Eric's reaction and I'd feel like my feelings were bouncing like a ping-pong ball. I just wanted to jump out of my body. I wanted to be anywhere but here and anybody but me. I started feeling tears on my face. "Hurt." That was the word. I felt so, so hurt. I kept walking and feeling humiliated and ashamed. And hurt.

After a while, I started feeling like, this isn't fair. What was I supposed to do? I didn't choose to get turned into a girl. Or to be born a boy, either. I just wanted to feel normal. Some kind of normal. Was I supposed to tell everyone I met, hey, I'm a tranny? Wear a scarlet "T"? I started feeling self-righteous indignation. That went on for a while.

Then I started feeling guilty. You should have told him. It was a lie. A lie of omission. And then you seduced him. Just a slut, I'm a tranny slut. I was feeling miserable and kind of sorry for myself. I'm the lowest form of life, I deserve to die. I thought, I want to kill myself. Except if I do, Teresa will kill me.

About this time, I noticed that my legs were cold. I started noticing where I was. I was on a country road in the middle of nowhere. I couldn't remember when I'd last seen a house. There'd been woods, I remembered, but now there were open fields on both sides of the road with stubble from harvested corn or something, all covered with dry snow. The wind was blowing across the fields and under my skirt and it was really cold, especially when it would pick up some loose snow and blow it onto my legs. I kept walking, hoping I'd see a house, or at least some woods. I was starting to worry that I'd freeze to death.

You know, you should call your uncle and ask them to pick you up. Maybe they can figure out where you are. The moon was about to set, if I waited any longer it would be too dark to see anything. I opened my purse and felt around for my phone, but couldn't find it. I squatted down by the side of the road. It was really awkward because my shoes were sort of high heels, and even though they weren't real high, they weren't real steady on the dirt and gravel by the side of the road. I dug through the purse again. Still no phone. I tried dumping everything out on the edge of the road. Tampons, address book, envelopes, a red ribbon, hairbrush, even a compact. But no phone. Then I remembered: I'd taken it out to charge it. I must have forgotten to put it back in. I'll bet it's still on my dresser.

Now I started to get scared. I was feeling really cold, not just my legs. My coat was cute, but not really warm enough for spending hours in the cold. I gathered all the stuff and put it back in the purse. I looked around in what was left of the moonlight to make sure I hadn't left anything. Then I started walking again. I told myself, if I saw a car, I'd flag them down. But I didn't remember seeing any cars or any traffic at all.

I don't know how long I walked. I couldn't see any houses. Keep walking, I thought, maybe something will turn up. The fields turned into woods, so the wind was less, but I was still freezing. I couldn't feel my legs or my feet. Or my crotch. I was shivering. I kept stumbling because I couldn't tell whether my foot was on the ground or not. I kept thinking about how freezing to death is supposed to be a comfortable way to die. This must be God granting my wish to die, only now I wasn't so sure. If I do die, will Teresa figure it counts as suicide? Or just a tragic accident? If she decides it was suicide, will she follow me into wherever it is we go after death and beat me up for all eternity?

I noticed a light on the road. I turned around, almost falling, and saw headlights coming my way. I tried to walk into the road, but my legs weren't working right, so I just waved my arms. The lights came to a stop beside me and I saw the outline of a pickup truck. I heard "need a ride" in a familiar voice. A voice from my nightmares: Eric.

I shouted, "no, thanks!" and tried to hobble away. I'd rather die, I thought.

Eric got out of the truck and walked over to me. I felt like a zombie or some movie monster was coming over to eat my brains or something and tried to walk as fast as I could, but I ended up stumbling and falling onto my hands and knees. I'll bet I tore my tights. Great, not only will I die, but I'll die with ragged tights, like the stories where you get taken to the ER with ratty underpants and die of embarrassment. I couldn't feel my hands, I must have torn them up, too, but somehow the tights bothered me more.

I felt Eric lift me to my feet. "Don't be an idiot. You're going to freeze to death out here. Let me take you home." When he let go, I started to fall, so he put his arms under my back and my knees and carried me across the road to the truck. "Hell, you're half-dead already," he muttered. He opened the door, but I couldn't climb up into the seat, so he had to kind of heave my butt onto the seat and push my legs inside, like I was a crash-test dummy. He buckled the seat belt around me. I would have been mortified if I hadn't been so out of it. He closed the door, then disappeared. When he came back, he tossed my shoes inside.

"Do you have your purse?" he asked. I opened my coat and showed it to him. He got in and turned the truck around.

"What were you doing out here, anyway?"

"Walking home," I mumbled.

"You wouldn't have gotten home this way, it's like fifty miles before the next town." He turned on the heater full blast. I just lay there, soaking in the warmth.

"I wish you'd stayed. I settled down after a while and went to find you, but you were gone. I've spent the past hour or so going down every road out of town trying to find you."

"I thought ... kill me." I was having trouble speaking. The heat had stopped the shivering, but now I was so limp I could hardly move.

He didn't say anything for a while. I saw lights, he made a few turns, and drove on.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you like that. It just, well, hit me somewhere. I felt awful, but I shouldn't have said those things." He might have said some more stuff, but I was getting too drowsy to hear anything.

The next thing I knew, he was shaking me. "You're home. You gotta go in now." He had to put on my shoes and help me walk up to the front door. My uncle opened the door before we had a chance to ring.

He took one look at me and asked, "what happened to you?" He and Eric walked me into the living room. My aunt and Teresa were standing around watching. "You're freezing!" he said. "What happened? Why are you so cold?"

"Eric and I, well, we had a fight, and I ran off and tried to walk home. He found me before I froze to death." My uncle looked skeptical, but asked Eric if he wanted something to eat or drink.

"No, I'd better be going. But -- Melanie, we have to talk. Can we talk tomorrow after Church?" I nodded, and he left.

Teresa and Aunt Edith got me upstairs and undressed me and gave me a bath. The water felt scalding, but they said it was just warm. When they decided I was thawed out enough, they wrapped me in a terry-cloth bathrobe and Uncle Boris brought me some hot herb tea. I felt like a baby they'd given a bath to.

"Do you want to talk about it?" my aunt asked after I'd had some tea.

I shook my head. "Maybe tomorrow, after I talk with Eric."

CHAPTER 49 -- Over and Out

Eric was at church the next day, but didn't try to talk to me until after the service. He told my uncle he'd drive me home and then he led me into a corner of the library.

"I'm sorry I said all that stuff. It was really uncalled for." He sounded kind of stiff, like he was reading a script. He didn't really look at me.

I wanted to say, "it's okay," but I couldn't make myself do it. Actually, it's not that I wanted to, it was more that I thought I ought to.

After a few really awkward minutes, he asked, "were you serious about what you said last night? Saying you used to be -- a guy? You're not just messing with me?"

I shrugged. "I know it sounds weird, but it's true."

He looked like he was struggling with something. "I don't get it. What is that all about? I mean if you did somehow, like, change, what happened? You said some stuff last night, but I didn't really take it all in."

I took a deep breath. "A year, well, a year and a half ago, I tried driving my brother's motorcycle --"

"You know how to drive a motorcycle?" he interrupted.

"Well, no, that was the problem. I kind of wrecked the motorcycle and almost killed myself. I don't actually remember. I got a real bad concussion, they thought I'd die or at least have brain damage. They took me down to the University hospital for this experimental gene-therapy treatment. Only they were also doing some experimental sex-change treatment on someone and they mixed us up."

I expected Eric to interrupt, but he was just staring at me. A little like last night. "Nobody noticed until a few months later, when my parents took me to the doctor to find out why my body was, well, changing. They started investigating and finally figured out what had happened, but it was way too late.

"Anyway, the kids at West High were making my life hell. I started feeling like I'd rather be dead. My parents finally took me out and my aunt and uncle arranged for me to go to Gabriel. I decided to start living as a girl then. And here I am!" I tried to sound upbeat and chipper. He was just staring at me. I waited.

"Do you think there's any chance we can still be, well, friends, at least?" I was still hoping we could somehow patch things up.

"I don't know. I gotta figure out if I'm okay with it."

"Okay with what?"

"With you being, uh, trans-, you know, a boy turned into a girl. It's -- well, it's not right. Guys are supposed to be guys. Girls are supposed to be girls."

"It's not like I can do anything about it, about what I am."

"I guess not. I still don't know if I'm okay with it."

I couldn't help asking. "And if you're not okay with it?"

He didn't say anything, but the way he looked at me, it was like I wasn't human. I felt a cold hole in my stomach. We sat in silence for a few more minutes.

"Guess I gotta go. I promised you a ride home, you coming?"

"No, I need some time to think." He didn't seem too heartbroken. Me, I couldn't imagine sitting next to him for the 15 minutes or so it would take to get home. I wandered in the direction of the sanctuary. Once I was safely out of Eric's sight, I tried calling my uncle, but there was no answer. Probably still on the road.

Eric's words rattled around in my brain: "I don't know if I'm okay with it." They felt like a knife in my gut, but I couldn't put my finger on why. I was still standing around in the hall when Reverend Jen came out of a room. Her office, I guess.

"What's wrong?" My face must have been showing how I felt.

I tried to put some words together, but nothing came out. She put her arms around me and I put my arms around her like a little kid and just started bawling. She didn't say anything, just held me and acted like this was something that happened every day. After a little bit, she led me back into her office and onto a little couch. I leaned on her shoulder and cried some more while she stroked my head and shoulders. I noticed she left the door open, maybe so no one would think anything funny was going on.

"Do you want to tell me?" she asked after I had mostly stopped crying.

"I don't know if you know, but, uh, I used to be a boy." I was almost getting used to saying it.

"I know, Teresa told me back when you moved in with her. I didn't say anything because I thought it was for you to decide when you wanted to talk about it."

"Anyway, Eric and I were boyfriend and girlfriend, but last night, when we were, you know, messing around, I let it slip that I used to be a boy and he flipped out. I thought he was going to kill me. I ran out and tried to walk home and almost froze to death before he found me and brought me home." TMI, I thought.

"Anyway, we talked today and he said, I don't know if I'm okay with you being a girl who used to be a boy. And he looked at me like, I don't know, like I was a stranger. I felt so hurt, like he stuck a knife in me. I don't know why."

"Do you love him?"

At first I didn't know what to say. I'd never thought about "love."

"I like him. I like it when he holds me and caresses me and all. I don't know about love. But I do want to be close to him and I want him to want me. At least, I did."

"It must be pretty awful when someone you care about says they don't accept who you are. It's like they get to decide whether it's okay for you to be what you don't have any choice about being."

"Yeah, it's like he still kinda thinks I'm a freak. That's one of the nicer things they called me at West High. But, oh God, it still hurts." I leaned against her again. I cried silent tears onto her sweater until they wouldn't come any more. She called my aunt and uncle and they came and picked me up. When we got home, I told my aunt the same story I told Reverend Jen, but I had the feeling maybe she guessed I'd been doing more than just "messing around." I spent the afternoon on my bed feeling miserable. Teresa came over every now and then to give me a hug, or as much of one as you can give someone lying face down on a bed feeling sorry for herself.

That evening, when we got to youth group, I told Reverend Jen I might need more than the usual amount of time at check-in and she just nodded. Eric showed up, but looked sort of uncomfortable and sat on the other side of the room. I didn't know if that was because he felt bad about how he'd treated me or if he was bothered being so close to a tranny she-male. I told myself I didn't care, but I did.

Before I knew it, it was my turn to talk. It took me what seemed like hours before I could find my voice.

"Guys, there's something I need to tell you all." I saw Teresa stare at me, looking concerned. "I look like a girl now, I even feel like a girl, but I used to be a boy. A year or so ago, I got a bad concussion and was in University Hospital. I was supposed to get this experimental concussion treatment from their gene therapy lab, but they got me mixed up with someone who wanted their experimental sex-change treatment." How many times was I going to have to tell this stupid story? Every time I told it, I felt more like a moron. Pretty soon I won't have any brain cells left.

"I started gradually turning into a girl. My, ah, you know, genitals started shrinking and turning into girl's ones and I started growing breasts. I tried to hide it, but pretty soon everyone could tell I had a girl's body. The kids at West High -- you all know how bad they can be. They were worse. About when I thought I'd rather be dead than spend another day there, Teresa's mom and dad agreed to take me in and try to get me into Gabriel School, where they don't let kids pick on each other. I decided that since I looked like a girl and not anything like a boy, I'd just start living as a girl.

"Maybe I should have told you all in the beginning, but, honestly, I just wanted not to have to think about it any more. Well, now I've told you. If you all decide you don't want a tranny freak in your group" -- Reverend Jen winced when I said this -- "just let me know and I'll leave."

I was sitting between Amy and a Greenwood girl and they both told me, "no, we want you to stay" and "you're not a freak." They both tried to hug me at the same time, which didn't really work, but I appreciated it anyway. I heard other voices saying the same thing. I couldn't help looking at Eric. I think he looked a little ashamed, even though I hadn't said anything about him. "Good," I thought.

Reverend Jen stepped in before anyone else could say anything.

"Melanie, is there anything you want from us? What would you like?"

I don't know where the words came from, but I heard myself wailing, "I just want to be normal! I want to feel normal! I'm tired of being a freak!" Not really an answer.

Nobody said anything for a while. Then one of the boys said, "can we ask you some questions?" Reverend Jen looked like she was going to say no, but I just shrugged and said, "might as well get it over with."

"Are you like a real girl all the way? I mean, even under your clothes?" I heard some groans and some people say, "come on!" I answered anyway.

"I'm not an expert on how girls look naked, but as far as I know, I look like any other girl. I don't have a dick. I can't have a baby, but otherwise, I've got all the girl equipment." They want TMI, I'll give 'em TMI. "Oh, and the breasts are real, too. No boob job." Periods, too, I thought but didn't say.

"Did you have any trouble with which bathroom to use?" somebody else asked.

"Only at West High. The girls made a fuss so I couldn't use their bathroom and the guys -- well you can guess what they did when I used the boy's bathroom."

"Was it hard to get used to wearing girl clothes and doing girl stuff?" That was a guy asking.

"It was weird at first, but I got used to it. Now I kind of like it."

It went on like this for a while, then Reverend Jen said it was getting time to order dinner and did we want to continue check-in or break. They voted for break. When we got up, a lot of the girls came by to hug me and tell me they wanted me there. Some told me how brave I was, which I didn't really understand. What choice did I have? Most of the boys told me they wanted me to stay, too. Some made a point of saying that, as far as they were concerned, I was a girl and my past didn't matter. Some even told me they thought I was cute or sexy. Eric didn't say anything. Some people gave him funny looks, but nobody said anything about how the guy who was practically joined at the hip with me for months was suddenly acting like I didn't exist. Fine with me, though.

As we were getting ready to go home, Eric came over and said, "you know, you didn't have to tell them."

I cut him off. "What's it to you? You're don't even think I have a right to exist." He tried to answer, but I just walked out. My uncle was there, so I could get right into the car without listening to whatever Eric had to say.

CHAPTER 50 -- Moving On

I spent the next week wrapping my head around what had happened. I realized that whatever Eric and I had had going was dead. Stone-cold dead. I might have been able to get over what he did Saturday. I could imagine finding out was a shock and he didn't handle it well. It was his "I don't know if I'm okay with it" that killed it for me. He wasn't in shock any more. But he still honestly thought it was up to him to decide whether I had a right to exist or something. I couldn't stand that. It was too much like West High. I'd never be able to forget it or forgive him, any more than I'd ever be able to forgive Tom Prescott. I'd practice being civil, but we'd never be closer than strangers.

"You should have dumped him long ago," Doris advised me.

Doris had finished her college applications and had more time on her hands, so we were hanging out more. She seemed a lot less stressed out than last fall. I'd told her all about me and Eric.

"Back when he wouldn't let you show him how to fondle you. That was a bad sign already. He was showing you that he cared more about his pride than how you felt. You should have told him about being trans right at the beginning. If he's not going to accept it, better to know right away so you don't waste any more time with him."

"You're right, I guess. But I was tired of telling everyone the freak show of my life. And I wanted him. Maybe I still do, even though now I could never stand to be with him. At the time, it seemed worth it. And it felt nice. At least, when I wasn't having to train him how to treat me. I liked having him want me. I liked having him hold me. I really liked the fucking while it was happening. Before he flipped out."

"Sounds like we need to introduce you to a better class of fuck-buddy. You need to get laid by someone who isn't a jerk."

We were hanging out in her living room, kind of draped over each other. It looked like Doris had gotten over her embarrassment about her parents knowing she was making love. I mean, we weren't exactly doing foreplay on the couch, but we were being pretty affectionate. My hair was down past my shoulders and she was making braids in the hair that she could reach from the front. There was a fire in the fireplace and her parents were sitting around reading. Sometimes they'd look up at us and they'd have a sort of "aw, aren't they cute!" smile. We'd all had some wine and I was feeling pretty mellow. I wondered if she'd go for the idea of me spending the night. I wondered if there was any way we could spend the night together at my aunt and uncle's. It would mean admitting to them that I was, well, fucking. I was pretty sure that they knew it was happening, but I wasn't sure I was ready to talk about it out loud with them. But they had told me they were relieved I wasn't going out with Eric and they mentioned Doris and Dennis as people they felt better about, so they probably knew about everything. If I waited until they "caught" me at it the way Doris got caught before talking about it, I wouldn't just feel embarrassed, I'd feel stupid.

"You know, maybe it's time for you to stop hiding your head in the sand."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You've been trying to pretend you've always been a girl. But you haven't. Maybe you should try talking with some other boy-turned-girl people. Maybe you would get more comfortable with your -- history."

"You mean go to some trans group down at the LGB-whatever center?"

"Yeah, something like that. It doesn't have to be that, but I can't think of anything else offhand. Oh, by the way, it's getting late. Do you want to stay here tonight?" She leaned over close to me and whispered, in a stage whisper and like it was really naughty: "in my bed with me." I giggled and nodded. I think it was the wine, I felt like giggling about everything.

I'd talked about it with Dr. Gordon, too. I'd told her the whole sorry story. Anyway, she'd asked me how I was feeling.

"Hurt. Really hurt. I mean, he acted like he loved me. And I kind of loved him, too. And to have him suddenly act like I'd betrayed him or something. I mean, I couldn't help being what I am. I wasn't doing it to hurt him. I wasn't doing anything at all, it got done to me!" I was sobbing.

"Of course you were hurt. That was very hurtful. And unfair." She gave me a few minutes -- and some tissues -- to settle down. "I'm more concerned about whether it hurt your sense of yourself as a person. Do you feel like you aren't worth as much?"

"Well, I feel like I blew it by not telling him right away. From now on, I'm not going to go out or even be friends with someone who doesn't know I used to be a boy. If they're going to reject me, I want them to do it before I have a chance to care about them."

"When I first started seeing you, you kept saying you felt abnormal, like a freak. I wondered if this might have made you feel like you were abnormal, or weren't really a girl."

"No, this didn't make me feel that way. I mean, I know I'm different from the other girls because I used to be a boy and they didn't. But I don't feel like being different that way makes me all that different from the girls who are different in some other way. I guess it helps that pretty much everyone knows about my past and they still think I'm a normal girl. Like, Doris thinks it's interesting that I used to be a boy, but it's interesting the way it would be interesting if I'd lived in England.

"I guess that's why I didn't really think about saying what I did to Eric. I'd gotten used to everyone knowing about me being a boy until not too long ago and nobody caring. That's why it hurt so much, what Eric did. Since I left West High, nobody'd ever treated me like that. And right after I'd opened myself up to him like that. You know, when I make love with someone, it's like I take down all of my protection. It's like my soul is naked. I can't imagine doing it any other way."

"It's that way for most women, I think. And many men, too."

The next Youth Group, Eric wasn't there. I asked Amy about it.

"He said he didn't want to come. He's -- well, he's being a real jerk about you being trans and all. Says he doesn't --" She looked at me: "do you really want to hear this?" she said dubiously. I nodded. She sighed. "He says he doesn't want to be around queers. Says we had the choice between a normal guy and a -- pervert -- and we chose the pervert." She added, "I slapped him." "I mean, what can you do about it?" she continued. "Wave your magic wand and turn back into a boy?"

"Isn't he your friend?" I asked.

"Was. I could be okay with it, sort of, if he just didn't like you. But he's being such a bigot about it. I won't be friends with bigots."

Youth group started, so we didn't talk any more about it. I kind of wanted to think of him as a total jerk. But I couldn't help thinking how, even when he was so mad at me that night, he still worried enough about me that he drove all over the place to find me. He's a jerk, but he did save my life. I shouldn't have blown him off like I did at the end of the last youth group.

The whole youth group, I felt bad about it. I felt like I'd been unfair to him. And I had not only driven him away from me, I'd screwed things up between Amy and him. I had trouble focussing on what was going on and I didn't have the heart to sing.

When it was over, I went over to Reverend Jen. "Amy says Eric won't come any more because I'm here. And she won't be friends with him any more because of how he's acting. I feel like it's my fault. I don't want him to feel like he can't come. I don't want him and Amy not talking to each other because of me. It was me, I don't know, me surprising him with my being trans and all that made him so mad and upset. Maybe I should leave so he can come."

"Melanie, it's not your fault. You have every right to be here and so does he. You're not keeping him away, he is. If he's upset by finding out something about you at an inopportune moment, he can talk about it. If he's bothered by being around someone who is trans, he can talk about it and work through it. He's choosing to run away instead. As for Amy, you didn't make her do anything, that was her decision. If that's anyone's fault, it's Eric's. I can't tell you what to do, but I think you should stay."

"I still feel bad about it."

"That's because you care about him as a person. It speaks well of you. But you can't work through his anger for him. He has to do that. Now, go home, your ride's here. If you need to talk some more, give me a call."

I didn't have a chance to bring up him saving my life and how I wished I hadn't just blown him off the last time I saw him.

A couple of days later, I wrote a letter apologizing for blowing him off and saying I was grateful that he'd driven around looking for me and saved me from freezing to death. I even said I was sad not to see him at youth group. A week later, it came back -- unopened. He'd scribbled "return to sender" and slapped another stamp on it, just to be sure, I guess.

CHAPTER 51 -- At the Support Group

Doris kept bugging me til I looked up the trans groups in town. Basically, there was one, which met every second and fourth Thursday. I agreed to go, but only if she'd come with me.

"But I'm not trans," she protested. "Oh, well, we can go together, and if they don't allow non-trans people, they can throw me out."

"Then I'll leave, too."

The group met in a room at a Methodist church sort of downtown. My uncle and I picked up Doris and he drove us over to the church. We found the parish house, where only one room had a light on, which we figured must be the place. There were about twenty people milling around. Someone pointed us to a table with name tags and told us to write our names and preferred pronouns.

"Maybe I should put down 'male pronouns'", Doris whispered to me.

"Do it and I'll tell everyone at school you're planning a sex change," I hissed. But she was already writing "Pronoun: she, her, etc." on her tag. We stood around feeling awkward for a few minutes until someone said they were starting. We found two chairs next to each other in a circle of chairs.

We started off by saying our names and pronouns and, if we felt like it, something about ourselves. Well, I thought I could handle the name part. But I was still nervous. When it got to me, I said, "I'm Melanie. I use female pronouns, but you can use whatever you want." Verbal diarrhea, I thought. I couldn't help adding, even though I felt stupid doing it, "and this is my friend Doris. She's just here to give me moral support. I hope it's okay." Doris rolled her eyes.

Somebody said, "of course. Welcome to both of you." And the person next to Doris said their name. Her name, since she said "female pronouns."

Now that I'd said my bit and wasn't so nervous, I could look around at the people. There were all ages. I think we were the youngest. Some looked like regular men and women, and I'd have assumed that's what they were if we were anyplace else. I mean, they came in all shapes and sizes, but that's like normal people. Some looked like guys trying to look like women, some looked like butch women. And some I wasn't sure about. I could see why they asked us to say what pronouns we wanted. I was a little weirded out just by being there, and a little more by the people who didn't look like regular people. But then I thought about how Eric had been with me and I didn't want to be like that, so I told my weird-out to get lost.

After the intros, they explained the rules, like how you weren't supposed to tell anybody outside what people had said here and you were supposed to let people say their piece without interrupting and not answer back or argue with them. Some of the people talked about the stuff they were dealing with. Sometimes it had to do with transition, sometimes it was just life. I was feeling like maybe I wouldn't have to do anything and feeling glad about it when the person who seemed to be leading the group asked me, "Melanie, do you want to say anything about yourself? You don't have to."

"I guess I don't mind, but -- I don't know what to say. I think I'm pretty boring," and sort of laughed. Nervous. Doris muttered, "you are not boring!" so everyone could hear it.

"Do you want to say how you came to realize you were female? Or how you managed to do your transition? You look like you're about --"

"Sixteen."

"You look like you've been on hormones for several years. I didn't know they were giving hormones to children that young."

"It's a little complicated. Kind of a weird story. Actually, I didn't, like, realize I was female and ask for a sex change. I didn't actually want to be a girl at all. And I didn't exactly take hormones, either. I mean, I guess I have hormones in me, but--." This was sounding pretty stupid. "I guess I have to tell the whole stupid story. You see, I was a boy until about, what, two years ago. I got a real bad concussion, they thought I'd die or have permanent brain damage, so they sent me down to the University Hospital for this experimental gene-therapy treatment that was supposed to repair the brain damage. Only the people who do the gene-therapy stuff were also testing this gene-therapy sex-change treatment and they mixed me up with the guy who wanted the sex change, and nobody realized it. My brain recovered anyway--"

"Sometimes I wonder...." Doris interrupted.

I gave her a dirty look. "-- but then my body started changing. It wasn't until I'd mostly changed into a girl that they figured out the mix-up."

"You mean, your body just started growing and shrinking in various places, all by itself?" someone asked. "No surgery?"

"Yeah. My, uh, penis and all just kind of gradually shrank into my body and when it was done, I had a, well, a vagina. And I started growing breasts. And my body shape changed a little, too. It was weird. After six months or so you wouldn't have believed I'd ever been a boy, even if you saw me naked."

"Weren't you upset?" someone else asked.

"I don't know. I kind of didn't have a chance. The people at school were so awful about it, picking on me, calling me names, stuff like that, that I was too busy worrying about just kind of staying alive. The school didn't do anything because it was the popular kids who were doing it and I was one of the losers who nobody cared about. Then some guys tried to rape me, and then I tried to commit suicide, and, well, my aunt and uncle arranged to get me out of that school and into this school where they don't allow kids to bully other kids. By then, I looked completely like a girl, so I figured it was easier to just say I was a girl. I've been living as a girl ever since. My cousin helped me a lot. And my friends." I looked at Doris.

I looked around. I thought maybe they thought I was making it all up. "If you don't believe me, you can ask the people at the gene-therapy department. Dr. Newcomb is the guy who runs it."

The leader said, "I've heard of Dr. Newcomb. We've asked him to give us a talk about his research. I didn't know he'd gotten to the point of actually treating people."

"Do you feel any dysphoria?" someone asked.

"Maybe we shouldn't be interrogating her," someone else said.

"It's okay. What was that word?"

"Dysphoria. When you feel like you're in the wrong body. Like you're really a boy, just stuck in a girl's body. And unhappy about it."

"Well, it was hard at first. Life as a boy wasn't all that great, but it was what I was used to. And all your life, everyone acts like being like a girl is the worst thing in the world. But once I started living as a girl, it wasn't so bad. I've gotten to like it, actually. Some of the girl stuff is pretty fun. Once I got past my 'boys aren't supposed to like girl stuff' attitude. And I've got some really nice friends. Like Doris." I put my arm around her and she tried to look proud and humble at the same time.

"But what do you feel like inside? Is your essence male or female? Do you identify as a boy or a girl?"

I was having some trouble understanding what she wanted. "I dunno. I guess I feel like me inside. I don't feel like I'm any different from what I was before. Inside, I mean. Is that what you're asking?"

Fortunately, they stopped asking me stuff I couldn't answer and went on to somebody else. I heard a lot about families that wouldn't have anything to do with someone after they said they were trans, or wouldn't let them see their kids any more. And legal problems. Like when their driver's license and stuff say they're one thing, but they've changed themselves into the other sex. I'm pretty lucky, I thought.

After all the discussion, we had a break where we milled around and had juice and coffee and cookies and stuff. This guy came over to us and told us how they were glad we came and we should be sure to come back. He was really nice, not macho like some guys. Then he asked me, "I can't help wondering, though. Your experience is so different from most of us. What do you think you could get out of coming here? Is there some sort of support we can give you?"

I said, "I mostly came because Doris said I should."

"Melanie," she said, with this long-suffering look. "I said you should because you keep telling me you feel like a freak. All this 'am I really a boy or a girl?' stuff. Maybe the people here can help you. Or at least show you you're not a freak."

The guy -- his name was John, by the way -- laughed and said, "we all feel like freaks some of the time. You get used to it. It's nice getting together like this because here, being trans is normal. And people understand what you're going through. It's normal, when you've switched genders, to be a little confused about what you 'really' are."

Some other people came up and talked with us. They were all pretty nice, and they didn't ask me questions I couldn't understand. One of the women asked if she could give me a hug, and I said, yes, but I wasn't sure if I liked it.

On our way back from the support group, I told my uncle I'd like to change my legal name and gender. I don't know why, except that I couldn't see any reason not to any more. It wouldn't change who I was, I'd still be a girl who used to be a boy, but it would make things like getting a driver's license easier. I wouldn't have to be explaining my history to every cop and bureaucrat.

CHAPTER 52 -- Zeke

A few days later, Zeke came up to me at lunch and asked me out.

I guess I should say, it didn't happen out of the blue. Zeke had been trying to be friends with me since maybe the fall. I'd been letting him know when we were hanging out, like I'd said, so he'd been around. My friends all kind of looked at him like the puppy that follows you home. The biggest problem was that he was still trying to seem all grown-up and like he had it all together. A little before Thanksgiving, I'd finally kind of told him off.

"Zeke, you're a nice guy, I think we all feel that way about you. But when you make like you're so mature and cool, it drives us up a wall. Well, me, anyway. I mean, we're not grown-ups and we are immature. Even when we're trying, we do stupid stuff. So when you pretend you don't, first of all, we don't believe it, and second, it means we can't talk with you about stuff. About all the stupid-feeling stuff that's going on with us. And when we do silly or dopey stuff, it feels like you're thinking we're stupid." Then I thought, that's a little harsh. When he didn't say anything, I added, "Oh jeez, I didn't mean to be that mean about it. We still like you. It's just that you'd be easier to take if you could lighten up and be yourself."

He didn't say anything. He kind of slumped down. After a while, I took his hand and held it. I kept wanting to say something, but I remembered how my Aunt kept saying sometimes you have to just let people sit with something. Finally, in a choked-up voice, he said, "It's kind of hard. I have to keep reminding myself that you -- you wouldn't do anything to be mean and try to listen to you and not get mad. If anyone else had said that -- Well, I guess I have some thinking to do." He got up to go. We were in the cafeteria and it was about time for class.

"Just remember," I said as we were leaving, "we do like you, however you are." He got a half-smile and then we went off to our next class.

It took a little while, but he started to act more like a kid. He got more puppy-like, but in a cute way, and we made a point of saying how he was more fun to be around now. And he was, we weren't lying. He started coming up with crazy fun ideas. Some of them were just crazy, but some were pretty good.

He did especially like hanging out with me. A lot of the time, it would be me and Doris and Zeke kind of all together and sometimes Teresa and Jeff, too. I asked Doris if she minded that he seemed to have a crush on me and she said as long as I wasn't planning to dump her, she didn't mind me and Zeke hanging out. Actually, she seemed to think he was a pet. If he was lying down, she'd come over and start petting him like a cat.

Speaking of his crazy ideas: one day, a little before Christmas, he said, "we ought to do a MST3K."

"A what?" I asked.

"Mystery Science Theater 3000," he patiently explained. "You watch some cheezy sci-fi movie and make fun of it. I could download a movie and show it on your wide screen TV." So one Saturday afternoon, that's what we did. Zeke and Doris and I, and Teresa and Jeff and Dennis and Ursula, we all made popcorn and hung out in the basement while Zeke hooked his laptop to the TV and played a movie about some alien tomatoes that would grow in someone's garden and then come in and kill and eat them and then leave their seeds in the next garden. When the US army came, they shot the soldiers and the tanks with seeds. We got to snuggle and laugh and eat popcorn and snark at the movie.

So, anyway, he asked if I wanted to go to a movie with him and I said yes. There's a movie theater in town that shows old movies and it was having a "Star Wars" festival. The movie he wanted us to see was one I'd never heard of and he hadn't heard much either, but he said, "if it's good, we can enjoy it together and if it's bad, we can make fun of it together."

He asked Doris if she wanted to come, too. I think we knew he was just being nice because Doris and I were something of a thing, but Doris said she'd pass. She also said, "don't do anything I wouldn't do." To which I said, "what exactly is there that you wouldn't do?" One good snark deserves another. I guess she thought so, too, because she just laughed.

Anyway, we decided to make an Occasion of it by dressing nice. I wore a pale pink blouse with a kind of scarf tied around the collar and a royal blue over-the-knee skirt with pale pink tights and black Mary Janes. I'd washed my hair (!) and put it back with a hair band. I thought it looked nice. His dad was going to take us there and my uncle was going to pick us up.

So Friday night, Zeke and his dad came in. Zeke had on navy blue pants, black shoes, a light blue shirt, and a scarf tied sort of like an ascot. "You look like a movie producer!" I said. I think he took it as a compliment.

"You look pretty nice, too," he said. "Quite the lady."

His dad and my aunt and uncle talked a bit. We'd both been over to each other's houses, so it's not like they didn't know who we were, but they sort of pretended they wanted to know who their kids were going to be going out with.

We got dropped off at the movie theater. Zeke insisted on buying the tickets. "Can I just this once play the mature, masterful guy?" he'd pleaded and I said okay. The previous showing hadn't quite ended, so we sat on a bench in the foyer.

"Can I put my arm around you?" Zeke asked.

"Only if you give me a kiss," I said. I was feeling pretty daring. So we turned towards each other and he put both arms around me and slowly pulled my face to his. He gave me one very light kiss on the lips, then waited a second or two and gave me another, deeper one.

"I hope this is okay. I'm not a very good kisser. I mean, I haven't done it much -- except with relatives, like my mom. Okay, she's not a relative, she's my--" I shut him up by planting my lips on his and gently rubbing them and then giving him a long kiss.

"I think you kiss just fine. You take your time so you don't mash my lips and so I have a chance to get prepared. It's really, uh--" I realized I was sounding too practical, not romantic enough. "Really sweet. Really romantic." I should have shut up then, but I went on. "Like the first kiss I got from Dennis." As soon as I said it, I knew I'd blown the mood again. "Oh my God, I'm sorry, I'm so stupid, I shouldn't compare you to--"

"Come on, Melanie, you're not stupid. And I don't mind if you compare me to Dennis. Hey, if I'm half as good as Dennis, I figure I'm doing pretty well. Let's try again. Make sure it wasn't just an accident." We both laughed nervously. Then he gently pulled my shoulders until our lips were touching and he gave me another one of those light kisses and then a deeper one and rubbing lips and a long kiss. It was good the first time we did it, but even better the second time.

"Can I just put my head on your shoulder?" I asked.

"Uh, sure," he replied. I scrunched up next to him and leaned my head over.

"It's not that I don't like kissing you, it's just that I'm really feeling like being close to you. Can you just hold me?" I asked.

"No problem."

He sounded kind of not sure of himself, so I said, "mmm, that's really nice." It was, too. I felt like I was floating away.

After a while, I don't know how long because I was in heaven, the people started coming out of the theater, so we stood up and waited to go in. Zeke put his arm around my waist and I put my hand on top of his shoulder. "You know," he said, "this is how you stand for some kinds of dances. You know, waltz, cha-cha, that kind of thing. Maybe we should take dance lessons together. Maybe, next prom, we could actually know what we're doing!"

"What a concept!" We both laughed.

We sat together in the middle of the theater and we snuggled through the movie. Well, as much as you can when you're in separate movie theater seats. Considering how much people like to neck in theaters, I'm surprised they don't make them so you can get rid of the stupid barrier between the seats. The movie turned out to be not so bad, so we just watched it and didn't try to make fun of it.

I called my uncle after we got out since he was driving us home. We waited on the same bench as before. I was feeling a little sleepy, so I laid my head on his shoulder and he put his arm around me. It was even nicer than before. He started stroking my back and I just went, "mmmm," like before.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," I said. "Except I'm afraid it might not be too comfortable for you."

"I'm fine with it. Really."

"I think I should try holding you while you lean on me. Come on, let's at least try it." So we shifted around and I put my arm around him. After a while, I took my other hand and stroked his hair and gently brushed his face with my fingertips. It was nice, too. I felt like I wanted to do nice things for him and give him some taking-care-of. I rubbed my check against his head, since I couldn't turn my head enough to actually kiss him.

About then, my uncle came in. He looked at us and got a sort of indulgent smile, but told us it was time to go. We dropped Zeke off at his house. I walked him to the door and we had a last hug and kiss, more of a brother-sister kind of kiss, but still.

That night, I kept thinking how nice it was to hug him and kiss him. I thought it would be real nice to lie next to each other and hold him or have him hold me. It was weird. Just a month earlier, I'd made love to Eric. I'll still call it "making love," even if it did turn out badly. And here I was mooning over another guy and he was about as opposite of Eric as I could imagine. With Eric, there was always some problem or other. With Zeke, I just did what I felt like and it was always fine. I didn't know if I wanted to make love to Zeke, or ever would, but I was sure if we did do it, it would feel right.

I also thought about how I really liked him, but I also liked Doris, only in different ways. I couldn't say I liked one more than the other, it was just too different. It's like when you like chocolate ice cream, but you also like orange sherbet, and you think: is there some way I could have both?