Spring Break Gender Break! Part 1 - The Transformation By Drew Miller Copyright© 2015 By Drew Miller All Rights Reserved. When college-aged Alana talks her brother Andy into taking her place on a trip, Andy finds himself transformed by Alana's best friend Christina into Andie. Soon he learns that Spring Break is more than a break from the tedium that is studying and the unparalleled anxiety which is exam week. For "her," it becomes a break from the person everyone expects "her" to be, a time to break free from the shackles of masculinity, and a time when "she" makes the most important decision of her life, the decision of whether or not to transition!

 

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Part 1: The Transformation
 

Ring! Ring!

My cellphone ringtone pierced the darkness of my room. With nearsighted vision made worse by bleary eyes, I glanced at my clock radio with squinted eyes.

“12:45AM?” I hissed.

I reached for the phone and checked the caller ID.

“Why is she calling so late?” I wondered. I picked up the phone. “What’s up sis? This better be important.”

“Hey Andy,” she said. “Sorry to be calling you so late…or early.”

“What’s wrong with your voice Alana? You don’t sound like yourself,” I said.

Cough! Cough! Cough!

“I know,” she said. “That’s why I’m calling. It’s because I’ve come down with something.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. But why are you calling me?” I asked. “Why don’t you just go the student health center?”

“I’ve already been there,” she replied in an even more raspy voice. “The doctor says I have bronchitis. Can you believe it? One day until Spring Break and I get sick!”

“I’m sorry you’re sick, but what can I possibly do?” I wondered.

“I need to ask you something,” she said.

I started to worry. I’d been fished in by this line before.

“What is it this time?” I asked.

“Why are you automatically assuming that I’m only calling because I need something?” she replied.

“Aren’t you?” I said.

“Yes and no,” she said. “Remember Christina?”

As if I could forget the tall, voluptuous, and beautiful girl that is Christina!

“Your friend from High School?” I said nonchalantly. “Sure, I remember her. What has she got to do with it?”

“She and I are…were going to Miami together on Spring Break,” said my sister.

“That sucks,” I said in genuine tone. “I guess she’ll just have to go alone.”

“Go alone? Are you kidding?” hissed my sister. “Christina’s a senior in High School. Do you honestly think her parents would let her go to Miami alone? The only reason they agreed in the first place was because I, the most responsible and trustworthy of the two of us, talked them into it.”

“Hey!” I exclaimed. “I’m trustworthy too, so much so that Mom and Dad are trusting me to house-sit and take care of Miss Kitty. So you see, because of a prior obligation, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

“Oh no you don’t,” she said. “I’ll arrange for someone to take care of Miss Kitty. So don’t think for one second that you’re getting out of it that easily.”

“God you’re being selfish!” I fumed. “You just want me to drop everything, throw some flip-flops and swim trunks in a bag, and drive her down to Miami?”

My sister let out a raspy laugh. It sent a chill down my spine.

Cough! Cough!

“First of all,” she began, “You’d be flying, not driving. Second of all…” She giggled before continuing on. “Second of all, you wouldn’t be bringing your swim trunks.”

I said, “I’m not quite sure what…Wait a minute. No way! No freaking way!”

“And why not?” she said innocently. “We’ve swapped places before haven’t we? Haven’t we?”

“That was totally different,” I said. “And it was years ago…It’s just a tad bit different now considering we’ve both gone through puberty.”

“Hmm,” she wondered. “I know I have, but have you looked in the mirror lately?”

“So I’m a late bloomer,” I said.

“A very late bloomer,” she retorted.

“It’s not my fault my rugged manly looks haven’t surfaced yet,” I protested.

“Lucky for us they haven’t,” she said. “Which makes it all that easier. I mean, with some padding for your hips, some boobs, and one of my sundresses on, voila! You could be my twin. My identical twin I mean.”

“It’s bad enough we’re fraternal twins and have to share the same birthday, and it was bad enough that I got mistaken for your sister all the time growing up. But this…this would be far worse. This has the potential to be humiliating. So I’m putting my foot down this time.”

“Well,” she said. “If that’s how you feel about it, then that’s how you feel about it. I guess I’ll just have to tell Christina that we’ll have to call off the trip, the trip we’ve been planning and looking forward to since before her cancer went into remission, the anticipation of which kept her going during her chemo treatments. I’m sure she’ll understand though.

“Damn it,” I muttered. “No. No, no, no! I’m not going to let you guilt me into it.”

There was a long pause.

“Hey Andy,” she said. “Remember that time I dressed you up and you started singing along to that Britney Spears song?”

“Why are you bringing that up?” I snapped.

“I remember how much Christina laughed when I showed her the video this one time,” she said.

“You’re bluffing,” I said. “We were alone in the house and I don’t remember seeing a camera.”

“That’s because my desktop was recording it the whole time,” she said.

“You didn’t! Please tell me you didn’t?” There was silence on the other end for a few moments. “You promised me no one would ever find out about that! You swore. How could you?”

“Sorry, but you were too adorable not to record,” she said matter-of-factly. “I bet my friends would think it was cute too and anyone else who clicked on the youtube link.”

I knew I was beat.

“Alright,” I relented. “Alright. You win. I would just die of embarrassment if any of my friends found out…or dad. I’d never hear the end of it. And I’d never hear the end of it if anyone besides Christina found out about what I’m about to do.”

“Don’t worry,” assured my sister. “No one else will. After I have Christina come over to the house to give you a makeover tomorrow, I doubt even she’ll be able to tell.”

“But what am I going to wear? I haven’t a thing to wear,” I whined.

“You’re starting to sound like a girl already!” she proudly declared. “But don’t worry. Just swing by my apartment. You can have my clothes, minus the panties of course. You’ll have to get your own.” She giggled again. “I’ve already got my bag packed and waiting for you.”

“But it’s a three hour round trip,” I whined.

“Then the sooner you leave the better,” she said. “I’ll see you in three hours…sis.”

Before I could object to such an affront to my “manhood,” she hung up.

I threw my covers off and stomped my way to the bathroom. The light stung my eyes. And my frame stung my pride.
Only wearing my boxers, it was plain to see that my sister was right. Even though I was 5’8,’’ I was only one-hundred thirty-five pounds soaking wet. I groaned at the pathetic reality.

I really need some boobs! No you don’t! Stop thinking that! Boys aren’t supposed to have these thoughts.

But the voice inside cried out once more.

You’re not a boy. You’re a girl! Stop pretending!

Now I was getting angry.

You see what you did sis? Thanks for dredging everything up. Thanks for forcing me to do this. Now I’m starting to get confused all over again.

“Damn it!”

I was fighting back tears now, so I splashed some frigid water on my face. Patting my face dry, I felt more composed, especially now that I wasn’t looking at myself in the mirror.

I threw on some jeans and a long-sleeved shirt and headed downstairs. Miss Kitty greeted me on the divider in the downstairs hallway. I gave her a kiss on the head and she reciprocated with a purr.

“Don’t wait up,” I said.

I grabbed my keys and headed out the door.

~o~O~o~

I returned home three and a half hours later. The traffic was almost as unbelievable as the situation I was in.

I wheeled my sister’s carryon into the house and pushed it up against the wall of the hallway. I was so exhausted that I didn’t even make it upstairs. I collapsed on the couch. The last thing I remember before nodding off was Miss Kitty using my stomach as a heated bed. Her purring lulled me to sleep.

The next thing I knew, the doorbell rang. If I would have been in bed, I would have put my pillow over my head and buried myself under the comforter.

“It’s too early,” I whined.

Ring! Ring!

“For the love of God, please just let me sleep,” I exclaimed.

As it turns out, my chances of becoming blissfully unconscious again were about as good as my chances of talking my way out of my present situation.

I heard a muffled voice coming from the persistent caller at the door.

“I know you’re in there Andy,” she said. “Please let me in. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us!”

With slumped posture, I opened the door. A young girl with short blond hair greeted me with a warm and relaxed smile.

“Good morning sunshine!” said Christina.

I would have objected to such an unnatural display of enthusiasm in the morning, but I was just too tired to think of a witty comeback. All I could do was groan like a tired parent of an infant who was crying all night. I motioned for her to come in.

“Looks like someone could use a double espresso,” teased Christina, stepping across the threshold.

“No,” I said. “What I need is a way to get out of this trip.”

Christina chuckled.

“My sister may refuse to listen to reason, but I’d like to think you’re more reasonable,” I said.

“Jeez,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You know, a lot of people would like to have your problem of being given a free plane ticket to Miami and a free stay at a waterfront hotel right near all of the clubs.”

“True,” I said. “And all of those ‘people’ are girls.”

She crossed her arms as she leaned against the wall.

“C’mon,” she urged. “It’s just one week of your life. And you only have to be in girl mode during the plane ride over. Once we get to Miami you can dress however you want.”

“But I’m not even sure we’ll make it the airport,” I said. “I mean, do you honestly think your parents are going to believe I’m my sister?”

She held up her makeup bag and grinned.

“Girl,” she said. “When I’m done with you, I bet I’ll have trouble telling you two apart.”

“Hey!” I snapped. “Don’t call me a girl.”

“Fair enough,” said Christina. Christina headed for the stairs. “C’mon princess,” she said. “Let’s head up stairs and get you all prettied up!” Once we were upstairs, she said, “First things first. Go ahead and shower and shave…and that includes your legs Missy. And don’t forget to moisturize. That’s very important. She handed me some Bath and Body Works vanilla body cream. “We need to make you silky smooth. In the meantime, I’ll go ahead and pick out which outfit you’re going to wear.”

“Make sure you include pants,” I advised.

She shooed me away.

“Hurry up,” she said. “We’re burning daylight.”

About forty-five minutes later, I popped my head out the door.

“I’m finished!” I announced.

“Here,” she said. “Put these on.”

“Panties?” I exclaimed. “I’ll wear the bra, but not the panties.”

“Oh yes you will!” she affirmed. “You have to. They’re microfiber and a size smaller than you’re used to so that they’ll…” She cleared her throat. “You know, keep a certain thing tucked away.”

I must have turned beet red. I snatched the unmentionables and retreated back into the bathroom. My embarrassment faded away because, unknown to Alana and Christina, the few times my sister and I had switched places when we were younger weren’t the only times I had ever dressed up. Those few times were but a drop in the bucket compared to all of the “girl time” I had secretly savored when I was alone. But that was then and this was now. And right now, I was about to violate an oath which I had sworn to myself just over one year ago when I had bagged up all of my girl stuff and taken it to the dump. The pretty clothes were out of sight and out of mind, just like I thought my confused feelings were. But apparently, those feelings didn’t get thrown away like my contraband clothing.

I slid on the padded A-cup bra, savoring the sensation of the soft fabric sliding over my soft skin. With the white panties, the feeling was even more exquisite. The silky fabric caressed my skin, giving me goose bumps as I slowly slid them up. However, this luxurious feeling turned into disgust when I opened my eyes and looked down. With a shudder, I tucked away the “birth defect.” It was out of sight and out of mind, and judging by how snugly my panties were clinging, it promised to stay that way for quite some time.

I breathed a sigh of relief and poked my head out once more. Christina was still there, but this time she had a blue sundress draped over her arm.

“I said I wanted to wear some jeans,” I whined.

“If you want to pass, you’ll wear this,” she said. “Trust me. It’ll be much more flattering.”

Feigning outrage with smoldering eyes, I snatched it from her. But when I put it on, I preened in front of the mirror. I felt so much femininity radiating out from my heart that I couldn’t help myself. But I knew I had to keep a lid on it or Christine would get suspicious. I’ll tell you, stuffing that feeling back down was as difficult as putting toothpaste back in the tube!

After I managed to still my fluttering heart, she sat me down in front of my sister’s makeup table. She circled me, studying my every feature like I was a block of marble about to be chiseled into art.

“It’s time to do something about that hair!” she said.

She pulled out some shears from her bag.

“Can’t you just brush my hair and put some gel in it or something?” I implored.

“You need a more flattering style, something that will make your jaw look more rounded. Besides, your hair is shorter than your sister’s.” A smile lit up her face. “And I’ve got just the right style in mind.”

She started brushing my hair.

“Umm,” I began. “You’ve done this before. Right?”

“Are you kidding?” she replied. “I used to work part time at my mom’s hair salon. So relax. I’ve totally got this.”

I tried to take her advice while she went to work, but I found it hard to relax in the beginning.

Snip. Snip. Snip.

I watched my dark brown hair pile up on the carpet. My heart dropped in my chest. But soon, I shifted my focus from the split-end detritus below to a wonderful sensation. Each time she ran the comb through and held the hair taut for another snip, the gentle pull on my scalp felt heavenly. With each pull and snip, more and more of my tension drained away. It was like a massage for my scalp. If I was a cat, I would have been purring.

When she set the scissors to the side, I have to admit, it was a letdown. But there was more pampering to come.

“Can I take a look?” I asked.

“Not quite yet,” she said. “I still need to add some volume.”

She put some mousse on her hands and went to work. The way she worked it and massaged it in felt even more exquisite than the comb through my hair.

So this is what it’s like to be pampered!

When she was done with stage two, I reached for the mirror, but she snatched it away.

“You’re still a work in progress,” she said. “You’ll just have to wait until I’m finished.” She rummaged through her makeup bag and pulled out some foundation. She beamed an eager smile. “Now it’s time for the fun part,” she declared.

She dabbed and spread, and blended and powdered. Then she painted on the lip stain. After that, she curled my lashes and put on my eye makeup.

“Look up for me,” she politely ordered.

I felt the eyeliner glide around my eyes.

“Wow,” she said. “You have such pretty eyes that I don’t even think you need any eye shadow. I’ll just go ahead and apply some mascara and then you’re done.”

“Thank goodness,” I said. “I didn’t realize being a girl was so time intensive.”

“You have no idea,” she said. “Voila!”

She stepped back and surveyed my transformation. She nodded in approval and flashed me a toothy grin.

“Oh, I’m good,” she asserted. “Damn I’m good! If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were Alana.”

I reached for the hand mirror, all the while trying to suppress a smile born of sheer euphoria.

“No,” she advised. “Go have a look at yourself in front of the full length mirror. That way you’ll get the full effect…but first.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of silicon inserts. “Can’t forget the chicken cutlets!” she said in a sing-song tone.

After she slid them in my bra, I stood up and walked to the closet. I slowly opened the door. I gasped at what I saw…who I saw. I was shocked at how good I looked. Did I say good? No, I mean gorgeous! The young woman looking back at me was a knockout.

“Watch your makeup,” said Christina.

“Oh, right,” I said quietly. I moved my shocked hand away from my mouth and placed it on my hip. “You’re right. I don’t even recognize myself. I don’t even think Alana would.”

“Let’s see,” she said matter-of-factly.

Click!

“I didn’t say you could take my picture!” I hissed.

I rushed over to snatch her smartphone away.

“Too late,” she teased. “You are just too cute! I wish I could be in the room when your sister looks at the picture I sent her.”

I felt lightheaded. I retreated to the bed and sat on the edge of it.

In a deflated tone, I said, “Christina, please tell me you didn’t post that on her timeline.”

“Relax,” she urged. “I sent it to her in a PM.” She studied me once more and sighed. “I wish Alana was going with me. It’s just not going to be the same without her.”

“It’s not too late to change your mind you know,” I said.

“I just spent a good portion of my morning transforming you into a runway model,” she replied. “Do you honestly think I’d put in that much effort if I wasn’t sure I wanted to go? If our positions were reversed, I’d want Alana to go. I’d be devastated that I couldn’t go, but I still wouldn’t want her to miss out. That’s one thing cancer taught me. It taught me that sometimes you just have to roll with what life throws at you. This is your chance to learn the same lesson. And maybe the silver lining will be that you come out of that shell of yours. Maybe this trip will do you good.”

“Maybe,” I whispered. I sighed, stood up, and forced a smile. “Carpe diem it is.”

“Great,” she said. “Alright. Now that we’ve got you looking the part, it’s time for phase three. It’s time to show you how to walk and talk the part.” She gave me a wink.

My heart fluttered at the thought releasing the femininity which I kept imprisoned within, but I was scared to abandon my little act of reluctance. I was scared to show the world the real me. At that moment, that shell Christine was talking about felt like it was made out of titanium. I had a long way to go, if ever I decided to transition.

~o~O~o~

I crammed for my debut into womanhood the best I could. The hip-swaying walk was easy enough, and to Christine’s surprise, quite natural for me. But learning how to talk like a girl was a different matter. After a half dozen trial and error attempts, I managed to fumble my way into the lower portion of the female pitch range. However, I could only sustain it for a few sentences. And it was for this reason that my heart was racing and my sweaty palms were gripping the steering wheel for dear life when I pulled up alongside the curb of Christine’s house.
I didn’t dare go to the door and ring the doorbell. That would mean being greeted by Christine’s mother, or even worse, her father, who would no doubt engage me in a conversation lasting more than just a few sentences. And thank God I didn’t have to!

I waited for the signal from Christine. The curtains of an upstairs bedroom parted and I saw her smiling face. She waved. I waited a few seconds and then got out and headed for the door. The red front door opened and Christine greeted me like her best friend, Alana. She embraced me and held me tightly. I glanced over her perfumed shoulder and saw why. Still in her terrycloth bathrobe, her mother was standing behind her in the hallway. It was all for public consumption.

Then, before I could help Christina with her bag, her mother spoke. What she said made my heart drop in my chest.

“What, are you just going to leave without giving your mother a hug?”

Christina rolled her eyes at me and smiled. She glanced over her shoulder and addressed her mother.

“I’m just trying to make sure we get to the airport with plenty of time,” she said.

“And you will,” she said. “Right after you and Alana come on over and give me a hug.”

I started trembling, but Christina whispered something into my ear to calm me down.

“Relax,” she said. “And remember, short sentences.”

I forced a smile, and with rubbery legs, I tentatively followed Christina down the tiled hallway.

It was hard to follow Christina’s suggestion to relax, especially since her mother was looking me up and down. And the questioning tone to her mother’s voice when she addressed me didn’t exactly calm my nerves either.

“Alana?” she said.

Uh oh! Busted!

Her mother continued on.

“Well isn’t that just the cutest hairstyle,” she added. “I almost didn’t recognize you at first, what with your pixie cut and all.”

“She’s like a whole new woman, isn’t she mom?” said Christina

Her mother nodded.

“And I love your polka-dot dress too!” said her mother.

“Thanks,” I said almost in a half-whisper. “It’s all part of my new look.”

“Your voice sounds a little scratchy,” said her mother.

Christina quickly interjected.

“Oh, she’s just getting over a sore throat. She’s not contagious or anything.”

Whew! Good save girl!

“Well thank heavens for that,” said her mother. “I know how important this trip is to both of you.”

Christina and her mother hugged.

“I can’t believe my baby is eighteen already,” declared her mother.

“And counting,” said Christina.

“Praise God for that,” said her mother. She wiped away tears before casting her smile in my direction. “Don’t be shy hon. Come and give your honorary mom a hug too.”

Her smile and her words left as lasting an impression on me as her intoxicating perfume.

“You take good care of my Christina,” she said.

When she pulled away, I chose the safest response possible, a smile and a nod.

“Okay girls,” said her mother. “Just one more thing.”

Oh Jesus! Please just let me get the hell out of here!

“Mom,” whined Christina.

With a dismissive wave of her hand, her mother said, “It’s just one picture. You’re growing up so fast. I’d like to get at least one more in before you turn nineteen.”

Her mother pulled her smartphone out of her pocket. Then Christina stood next to me by the hall table and put her arm around me, just like we were sisters.

I could get used to this!

Her mother snapped a couple of pics and then we were free! She still followed us out onto the porch though.

“You remembered everything, right?” she asked.

Christina nodded.

Her mother said, “You’ve got your tickets, ID, money, keys, and cellphone, and…”

“For the dozenth time mom,” interjected Christina. “Yes! Stop worrying.”

“Okay,” said her mother. “Make sure you call when your plane lands and when you get to the hotel. And don’t forget to post plenty of pictures from your trip!”

Christina rolled her eyes at me once more before nodding.

“I will. I promise,” said Christina.

“I love you baby!” shouted her mother.

“I love you too mom!” shouted Christina right back.

We made haste to my car. I pulled away from the curb and watched Christina’s waving mother retreat ever farther into the distance. And as she retreated, so did my anxiety as well.

“Thank God that’s over with!” I exclaimed. “I can’t believe your mom bought it. I thought for sure she was going to figure it out a couple of times. What about you Christina?”

“Never had a doubt,” she asserted. “Like I said before, you and your sister could…”

“Be twins,” I interjected. “Lol…sort of. Now we’ll just have to wait and see if the TSA agrees.”

“Miami, here we come!” shouted Christina. “Woo!”

I rolled my eyes.

She was one of those “woo” girls. I may have secretly mocked her for it in the car, but so was I. I was as girly-girl as her, only I didn’t realize it yet. Soon I would experience that epiphany. Soon, I would learn that Spring Break was more than a break from the tedium that was studying and the anxiety which was exam week. For me, it would become a break from my assigned gender, a time when I would break the shackles of masculinity, and a time when I would make the most important decision of my life, the decision of whether or not to stay Andie.

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Spring Break Gender Break! Part 2 - Bait and Switch By Drew Miller Copyright© 2015 By Drew Miller All Rights Reserved. Andy thought he was going to be able to go back into boy mode after assuming the identity of his fraternal twin sister, but when he and Alana's friend Christina arrive in Miami, Spring Break truly turns into a gender break for him because of circumstances beyond his control... very attractive circumstances that is!

 

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Part 2: Bait and Switch
 
Christina and I arrived at the airport and we checked our bags. And by we, I mean I checked my bag full of boy clothes. I felt a twinge of sadness when it disappeared behind the clear flaps into the chaos which is the maze of conveyers in the back. I missed it like a young child misses their security blanket.

“Have a wonderful trip ladies and thank you for flying with us!” said the ticket agent.
“Thanks,” said Christina. “Earth to Alana. Come on girl. Let’s head to our gate before they give our seats away.”

“Hmm?” I replied. “Yeah, right,” I said in deflated tone. “Hey. What are you grinning about?”

“About how the ticket agent didn’t even do a double take when she saw ‘your’ ID,” she said.

“Lucky for me,” I said.

Just then, Christina stopped and shot me a withering glare.

“Are you going to be like this the whole time?” she said.

“Not after I unpack my checked bag at the hotel I’m not,” I said.

Arms akimbo, she said, “Look, I went through six months of chemo…and radiation and surgery on top of that. For a while there, I wasn’t sure I’d even make it this far. But I did. And now I’m here and I’d like to have a good time. Right now would be a good time to start. All I’m asking is that you be pleasant. Can you please do that for me?”

I couldn’t say no to those teary eyed doe-eyes of Christina, so I gave her a nod.

“Thank you!” she said.

We clicked our way across the tile in our cute wedges. Her stride was easy and confident, never
once losing her balance. Me? Not so much. She held her head up high, taking in the hustle and bustle of people and the numerous shops along the way. I kept my head down mostly, and not just because I was a little on the shy side. I’m thinking it had a little to do with the wandering eyes of male passersby, eyes which were no doubt mentally undressing Christina and me, the hottie that I was. For years I had heard women complain of this ad nauseam. Now I understood why. I also understood that ignorance can sometimes be bliss and I longed for my ignorance back!

As we neared the security checkpoint, I felt like when you’re on a rollercoaster right before the first big drop! However, like back at the ticket counter, I flashed my ID without any overly-scrutinizing looks cast my way. That part was easy, almost as easy as deciding between a passive x-ray screening or a pat-down. But after braving the gantlet of wandering eyes of horny young guys…and older guys, I opted for the opposite gender to discreetly feel me up.

I’d definitely rather have another woman screen me! Wait a minute. Did I just say ‘another woman?’ What I meant was ‘a woman.’

I really needed to change back into my boy clothes!

The security screener went about her job. I was so nervous, that if the “birth defect” between my legs could have crawled up inside me and joined his two “friends,” it would have done so faster than the 747 we were about to board! However, as nervous as I was right then, it was nothing compared to when I heard a voice to my right coming from in front of the x-ray baggage scanner.

“Excuse me Miss,” said the other security screener.

I prayed he was talking to Christina. It was only when he said the same thing a second time at a slightly higher decibel level that I acknowledged him with a sheepish smile.

“Yes?” I asked, walking over to him.

He was standing over my, I mean Alana’s, unzipped carryon bag. He discreetly held up a small tube so only I could see.

“I’m afraid you can’t take this on the plane,” he said. “It exceeds the number of ounces allowed.”

“What is it?” I wondered, peeking in.

My cheeks felt like they were on fire when I peered closer. And I’ll tell you why. It was a tube of lubricant, and I’m not talking about the kind used on rusty machinery!

Oh my God! What, was my sister planning on inviting the entire football team from her school back to her hotel room?

“Just throw it away,” I said in a whisper. “Must have gotten in there by mistake.”

But the screener gave me one of those, “oh sure, I believe you” incredulous looks.

I let out a nervous laugh, grabbed my carryon, and sashayed my cute little butt toward the seating area as quickly as my wedges would allow.

Christina rushed up beside me with a befuddled look on her face.

“What was all that about?” she inquired.

“Nothing,” I said. “I just want to sit down. My feet hurt.”

“Welcome to hell: population ladies,” she declared. “But you get used to it…BTW, you’ve really got that walk down. I honestly thought you were Alana for a second…which makes me wonder.”

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “I lost my train of thought.”

Oh my God! Does she suspect that I feel like a girl on the inside? Stop it. You’re just being paranoid. There’s no way she could know. There’s just no way.

We took our seats. She distracted herself with her laptop, while I opted for my iPod. I was as generous with the volume as guys had been with their special brand of attention as of late.

It took me about ten songs into my play list before I thoroughly recovered from the shock and embarrassment back at the security checkpoint. No sooner had I gone into chill mode that Christina tapped me on my shoulder.

“What’s up?” I said.

She pointed to the terminal’s departure screen.

“An hour?” I whined. “Seriously? We have to wait another hour. It doesn’t make any sense. I mean, look outside. Do you see any clouds? I don’t.” I crossed my arms.

“Stop pouting,” she said with a smile.

“I’m not pouting,” I retorted. “I’m just...” I sighed. “Airports really aren’t on my top ten list of places I like to be.”

“Wait a minute?” said Christina. “Are you afraid of flying? Is that what this is?”

“No,” I said firmly. “It’s the crashing that worries me.”

Leaning in, she said, “I’ve got a Xanax if you need something to chill you out a little.”

“I don’t need any drugs!” I insisted. I must have insisted a little too vehemently, because I was drawing a few stares. “I’m sorry Christina. Thanks, but I’ll be okay.”

But I was far from okay. My palms were sweaty and I broke out in a cold sweat. Flying was nerve-wracking enough on its own, but feeling like all eyes were upon me, the beautiful fraud that I was, was becoming too much too bear. I felt sick to my stomach. I had to get away, and fast! I got up as daintily as possible and made a b-line for the restrooms. They were the closest refuge.

I was beside myself, so beside myself that I went on autopilot. I walked in, but not very far. I froze in my tracks because now it didn’t feel like all eyes were upon me. All eyes were upon me! The way the men were staring at me, I swear, if I could have died of embarrassment, I would have.

With head down, I rushed out and headed into the “right” bathroom. I sought refuge in the nearest unoccupied stall. I fought back tears. I didn’t even have a chance to get myself under control before I heard a familiar voice.

“Andy?” said Christina. “Are you okay?”

I remained silent. Okay, maybe not completely silent. I think my whimpering gave me away.
There was a gentle knocking on the stall door.

“Andy? Is that you?” wondered Christine in the softest tone.

“I’m fine,” I asserted. “You should go back and watch our bags. They’re pretty strict about that.”

“I know,” replied Christina. “That’s why I’ve rolled them in here with me….Can I come in?”

I opened the door so it was ajar and addressed her in an equally soft tone.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I said.

“Yes you can,” she asserted. “With a little help.” She dug around in her purse. “Here. Take one of these.” I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could protest, she cut me off. “Trust me. Take one of these, and I guarantee, in fifteen minutes you’ll feel as good as if you’re relaxing on a beach in Miami.”

She placed the pill in my outstretched hand and I downed it like a shot. Then, she smiled.

“I’m going to head back to our gate,” she said. “Just come out when you’re ready. It’s not like our flight is going to be taking off anytime soon.”

I nodded. “Okay,” I whispered.

After about ten minutes, the tension drained away. I exited the stall and glided out of the bathroom. I held my head up high like Christina. Apparently, the anxiety wasn’t the only thing I had left in the bathroom. I also checked that “out of place, impostor” feeling at the entrance.

I joined Christina in the seating area. Riding high on my wave of calm, I felt as if I could have waited another hour. Lucky for us though, our actual departure time was about the same as the estimated.

We boarded the plane, and I found out I was as much of a lightweight when it came to little pink pills as I was with alcohol. No sooner had we taken off and retreated to the safety of the tranquil skies than I dozed off.

“Andy? Hey Andy,” whispered Christina.

My head was resting on Christina’s shoulder. I nuzzled closer before answering her.

“Tell them I don’t want any peanuts or soda,” I said.

She chuckled. “I did,” she said. “Before we landed.”

I glanced to my right. The shuffling of passengers down the aisle confirmed it.

“We’re here already?” I inquired.

Christina nodded.

“Wow!” I declared. “Xanax, where have you been all my life?”

“Come on sleeping beauty,” said Christina. “Let’s grab our bags before you drift off again.”

We were treated to one last smile by the flight attendants as we disembarked.

“Enjoy your visit ladies,” said one twenty-something woman.

I didn’t even take offense at being called a lady. Can you believe that? In fact, it made my heart soar. I figured it was just a side-effect of the Xanax. And my soaring heart just kept on, well, soaring.

Now, walking to the baggage carousel, I was enjoying all of the attention from the wandering eyes of the male passersby. I was enjoying myself until we got to the baggage carousel.

At first, I was patient and calm. However, that all changed when all of the other passengers came and went with their bags and it was just Christine and I waiting in front of an empty carousel.

“Oh, no,” I uttered. “This can’t be happening. Of all the times for them to lose my luggage, it had to be this time.” I threw up my arms in disbelief. “Now what I’m supposed to do?”

“Well,” began Christina. “It’s not like you don’t have anything to wear.” She glanced at my carryon.

“Lucky me,” I said. I sat down on my carryon and held my head in my hands. “It was just supposed to be for one day. This carryon was just supposed to be a ruse. It wasn’t supposed to be my wardrobe. It’s Murphy’s Law I tell you. I hate Murphy’s Law!”

Tears stung my eyes and began to trickle their way down my face.

“We can still buy you some boy clothes,” she said. “I can put it on my credit card.”

Her words gave me little reassurance at that moment. I opened my purse and pulled out a tissue.

Just then, Christina’s face lit up. I turned around and mine did the same thing at a most welcome sight.

“Thank God!” I exclaimed. I picked it up and shrugged my shoulders in Christina’s direction.

“You see?” she said. “You were worrying for nothing.”

I wiped away another tear and managed a smile.

“C’mon…Alana,” she said. “Let’s go grab a taxi.” She gave me a wink.

~o~O~o~

At last we arrived in our room at the hotel. I plopped down on the bed and grinned.

“We made it!” I declared. “I can’t believe it. Whew! I don’t know about you, but I’m whipped. I’m just going to relax and watch some TV.”

Christina said, “I’m going to head down to the lobby and grab some snacks. You want anything?”

“Come to think of it,” I said, “maybe I’ll have that soda I never drank on the plane. Coke zero would be great if they have it.”

I thought Christina would be there and back in something like less than ten minutes. But when over fifteen minutes passed, I reached for my phone. No sooner had I sent my text message than I heard a knocking on the door.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “I’m coming.” I opened the door.”

“Where are the snacks?” I asked.

“Sorry,” she said. “I kinda lost my appetite.”

“What’s going on,” I said. “You look as nervous as I did back at the airport before I took that xanax.”

Christina sat down on the edge of the bed closest to the air conditioning unit. She took a deep calming breath before speaking.

“Okay,” she began. “How do I put this? I was downstairs getting the drinks when I heard someone call my name from behind. At first, I thought they were talking to another Christina. I was like, there’s no way it could be him, you know at the same hotel. I mean what are the chances?” She laughed nervously.

“Was there another girl named Christina down there? Please tell me there was.” I said.

She shook her head before replying with averted gaze.

“Well who was it then?” I asked. “An old boyfriend?”

“Not exactly,” she said. “It’s actually kind of funny. It was my cousin.”

I crossed my arms before interrogating her further.

“And what exactly did you tell this cousin of yours?” I said.

“Oh, this and that,” she said. “Just the usual we haven’t seen each other in a while catching up type stuff…I asked who he was staying with and uh, he asked me the same.”

My eyes went wide. I was afraid to but I had to ask a certain question.

“And what was your answer?”

“Umm,” she began. “Well…”

“For the love of God, please tell me you told him you were by yourself,” I implored.

Her silence confirmed worst case scenario.

“Why didn’t you just lie?” I demanded.

“I had to tell him I was with Alana,” she asserted. “There’s just no way he’d believe that my parents would let me go by myself.”

“Why Alana?” I exclaimed. “Why not Andy?” I pointed to my checked bag. “Why couldn’t you just tell him you were here with me?”

“That would look even more suspicious!” she snapped.

“Not if you made something up,” I said. “I mean, you could have told him that I’m you’re gay BFF or something.”

“Well maybe he surprised me by showing up out of the blue like that,” she whined. “And maybe I was so nervous that I couldn’t think up a really clever lie on the spot. Did you ever think about that?”

“Okay,” I said. “Okay. I’m sorry. I guess you did the best you could under the circumstances.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“All is not lost I guess,” I said with a wry smile. I forced a cough. “Too bad I’m not going to meet him because it looks like Alana just came down with a cold.”

“I’m not so sure that’s going to work,” said Christina.

“Why not?” I insisted. “It’s so simple it’s brilliant!”

Knock! Knock!

“That better be room service,” I said.

Christina pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow.

“Tell him to go away!” I hissed. “Tell him I have Ebola or something.”

“Shush!” she said, motioning with her hand. “He’ll hear you,” she whispered.

Apparently he did hear us, I mean me. I heard a deep muffled voice.

“Christina? Alana? Are you decent?”

It felt like all the blood drained from my heart.

Christina got up. Glancing over her shoulder, she whispered at me.

“I have to let him in,” she said. “He saw us come in together. He knows you’re not sick. I need you to be Alana right now.”

“As long as it’s brief,” I said.

“I’ll do my best to get him to leave,” she promised. “Just follow my lead. And remember…”

“Short sentences,” I interjected. “I know.”

I reached into my purse and dug around for the other half of that Xanax. I needed it more now than ever! I threw it back right as she opened the door.

Just relax girl. It’ll be over soon enough.

When the door clicked open, I broke out in a cold sweat. But I didn’t start shaking because I was captivated by what I saw.

Her cousin entered the room, all 6’1’’ and 190 pounds of him. And did I mention that most of that one-hundred ninety pounds was chiseled muscle? In fact, if he told me he was Chris Hemsworth’s cousin, I could easily suspend my disbelief.

He flashed me a warm smile before looking me up and down much like Christina’s mother had done earlier that day.

“Alana?” he said. “Wow! You look…great.”

I felt myself blush. I brushed some strands of hair away from my cheek.

“Thanks,” I said. “So do you.”

Whoops! Did I just say that out loud?

He sat down on the edge of the bed next to Christina.

“I can’t believe it’s been three years since I’ve seen you guys,” he said. “We totally need to hang out and catch up.” Before I could even open my mouth to utter an objection, he continued on. “What are you doing for dinner?”

“Well, we uh,” said Christina.

“Since you don’t have plans,” he said, “why don’t you come have dinner with us?”

“Who exactly is us?” I asked.

“Me and a buddy of mine and his girlfriend,” he said.

“Will your girlfriend be joining you?” I wondered.

He smiled the sweetest smile before enlightening me.

“It depends,” he said. “It depends on if I find someone between now and dinner.”

“Oh,” I said breathlessly.

I let out a nervous little laugh. The way his beautiful eyes were fixated on me made my heart flutter, and strangely enough, made my fingertips tingle. The more he smiled at me, the more I smiled back. I tried hard not to, but I just couldn’t help myself. It was like I had a spell cast on me or something.

“Hey Ben?” said Christina. “Is that your phone going off?”

“Hmm?” he replied. “Oh yeah.”

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had been captivated!

“I better call them back,” he said, rising to his feet. “So how does this sound? I know this great Mexican restaurant that has the best margaritas. How about you and Alana meet me in the lobby around six so we can walk down there together?”

“Sure,” said Christina. “Sounds fun.”

“Cool,” he replied. “Oh, and they also have live music. So, don’t forget to wear your dancing shoes…Just kidding Alana. See you girls later!”

“Bye!” said Christina.

I just sat there with my mouth open. I was completely at a loss for words. But after Ben left, Christina most certainly was not.

“Are you okay Alana…Sorry, I mean Andy?”

“I might be okay if you would have consulted me first before saying yes,” I said.

“Sorry, but it seemed like you were up for it,” she replied.

“Why would you think that?” I wondered.

“Please girl,” she said. “I saw the way you were looking at him. Your eyes were saying yes, yes, yes.”

“What? That’s ridiculous. I was just being friendly.”

Christina suppressed a laugh. “There’s a difference between being friendly and flirting. And you were most certainly flirting, whether you want to hear it or not.”

“I guess I just liked the attention,” I conceded. “That’s all.”

“Can I ask you something?” said Christina. “Do you like guys?”

“What?” I quietly protested.

“It’s totally okay if you do,” she said. “You don’t know this about me, but I really don’t care about stuff like that.”

“If you really don’t care, then why are you asking?” I said.

“Because you shouldn’t deny yourself what you need…and deserve simply because of what others might think,” she said. She sat down next to me. “When I was being treated for cancer, I learned a lot about regrets. Did you know that the number one regret of terminally ill people was that they didn’t live a life true to themselves and instead chose to do what others expected of them? A non-genuine life is no life at all. And a life without love isn’t really worth living.”

I felt the tears stinging my eyes.

“Wonderful,” I quietly declared. “So basically my life thus far has been a non genuine piece of garbage.”

She grasped my hand tighter. When she did, the love and compassion I felt radiating from her did something to me. It shattered all of my defenses, including my stubborn pride. I placed my hand over my eyes and started sobbing.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Just let it out.”

“You think I’m gay, but…but I’m…I’m not,” I asserted. “I’m actually straight. Can you believe that? And you want to know why?” Her non-judgmental silence told me it was safe to confess my most terrible of secrets which had burdened me for as long as I can remember. “I’m trans…I’m transgender.” Pointing to my head, I said, “I feel like a woman…in here. I thought the feelings would go away but this damn trip has made them come back with a vengeance.”

I started sobbing again. All of the pent up pain and suffering from twenty plus years in the closet flowed to the surface like my tears.

“This may come as a surprise to you,” she said, “but I’m not really that surprised…And I don’t think your sister would be either.”

I forced a laugh. “I bet Ben would be surprised.”

Christina nodded. “Which is why it’s probably best not to tell him. Guys typically have a little harder time dealing with this uh, issue.”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Christina? Would you pass me the tissues please?” I blew my nose. Forcing a smile, I said, “God, I’m such a wreck right now. My makeup must look terrible.”

“Do you still want to go?” she asked. “To dinner I mean.”

I nodded. “Surprisingly, yes. I feel a lot better now.”

“Never underestimate the benefits of a good cry,” she said. “C’mon. Let’s get you into the bathroom and I’ll help you fix your makeup. How does that sound?”

I answered her with a warm smile.

---

---

Part 3: Owning It!

We met Ben in the lobby. He was wearing tan cargo shorts, a button-down blue striped shirt, black sandals, and wrap-around sunglasses; meanwhile, I was still wearing the same sundress while Christina chose a fuscsia babydoll to wear with white capris.

Casual yet handsome, Ben escorted us over to the Mexican restaurant. We made the usual small talk as we made our way down the boardwalk. I kept trying to steer the conversation back Christina’s way, but Ben seemed to be more interested in me, even more than my T&A. By the time we were seated on the patio, it was becoming increasingly difficult to answer his queries with a single short sentence. Still, I was as flattered as I was nervous from this rather charming attention.

When the hostess led us to our glass-topped table, I knew I needed a drink ASAP to deal with my nerves from not only Ben’s attention but a lack of attention from the other members of our party who had yet to grace us with their presence.

Where the heck are they? He assured us they’d meet us here.

My mind still swarming with questions and what-if scenarios, a modestly attractive college-aged waitress with bleached blond hair and a genuine smile greeted us.

“Good evening,” she said. “Can I get you started with some drinks?”

Christina said, “I’ll have a non-alcoholic strawberry daquiri please.”

Then the waitress looked at me with more than a friendly smile.

“And what would like Miss?” she asked.

I whipped out my I.D. from my purse and grinned.

“Since I am of legal age,” I began. “I would like a Margarita por favor.”

While Ben ordered a beer, Christina nudged me.

“Are you sure you want to be drinking right now?” she whispered. “You might want to wait for the Xanax to wear off.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, with a dismissive wave of my hand.

When the drinks arrived, Ben offered a toast.

“Here’s to the most amazing spring break ever in the most incredibly…beautiful beach in Florida!” he declared.

When he emphasized the word beautiful, he cast a smile in my direction.

Blushing, I said, “I’ll drink to that!” I dove right in with a couple of slurps of the tangy beverage. “This is like the biggest and the bestest Margarita I’ve ever had,” I announced.

Based on the perplexed yet amused expression on Ben’s face, I knew I had forgotten myself a little. This time, I took a few more lady-like sips. My taste buds were awoken as quickly as my femininity had been since agreeing to accompany Christina to this exotic spring break destination.

“I’m serious though,” I reiterated. “This is the Best. Margarita. Ever!” I gushed.

“Was I right or was I right?” said Ben. “I told you this place is good. When it comes to restaurants, I’ll never steer you wrong.”

Christina nudged me.

“Girl, you might want to slow down a little,” she urged.

“Relax,” I assured. “I’m a big girl. I know my…Ahh! Ah! Brain freeze!”

Christina rolled her eyes and smiled.

“So Alana,” said Ben, nibbling on a tortilla chip. “Is this your first time in Miami?”

“This is my first time in Florida,” I said. “And hopefully not my last.”

Ben said, “Do you…”

“Just a sec Ben,” I interjected. “Our waitress is looping back this way.”

“Another drink Miss?” she inquired.

With eyebrow raised, I said, “Ohhh yeah. This girl is thirsty tonight.”

Ben grinned at Christina.

“We’ve noticed,” teased Christina. When the waitress’s eyes landed on her, she said, “I’m good thank you.”

“And you sir?” asked the waitress.

Christina cleared her throat. “Ben,” she said.

“Hmm?” said Ben, taking his eyes off his smart phone. “Oh right. I’m good…for a little while at least.”

“Did they just text you?” wondered Christina.

“Yeah,” he said, in deflated monotone. “It looks like they’re not going to be able to make it tonight.”

“Oh,” said Christina. “That’s too bad.”

“So, do you want to place your order now?” asked the waitress.

“Might as well,” said Ben. “It’d be a shame to waste such a perfect evening as much as the other two chairs.”

“So what are you going to order…Alana...besides more Margaritas,” said Christina.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I dunno…Hey. I’ve got an idea. Ben, why don’t you go ahead and pick something for me. You know what’s good here more than I do.”

“It’s all good,” declared Ben.

The way he said “good,” I got the impression he wasn’t just referring to what was on the menu if you know what I mean. My heart surged again and I hoped my cheeks didn’t redden too much in front of my new admirer.

“Okay,” said Ben, rubbing his hands together. “Why don’t you bring us three orders of texas fajitas please.”

I started rhythmically clapping my petite hands. “Texas fajitas, texas fajitas, la, la, la, la, la la la,” I sang.

“You have a beautiful voice,” said Ben.

I smiled at Christina, trying not to cackle.

“Seriously,” said Ben. “I mean it.”

With a devilish smile, I said, “Maybe I’ll do some karaoke later.” I dipped a chip in some salsa and slowly brought it to my full lips. Then I slowly and sexily ran my tongue across my salty lips. “Mmm…I ate some chips just to try it. I hope my figure don’t mind it.” I placed my hand on my hip.

“I think your dress might,” said Christina.

“Uh oh,” I said. “I hope Alana don’t mind it.”

Referring to myself in the third person elicited a raising of an eyebrow from Ben. Christina tried to allay any suspicion with a nervous little laugh.

“C’mon…Alana,” said Christina. “We need to take care of that before it stains…Excuse us Ben.”

I started cackling. “I’ll be right back. We have to go to the little girl’s room,” I said in a sing-song kind of tone.

Christina grabbed my hand and hurried me inside the restaurant as if she were my mother. The bar to our right and the row of tables to our left were like the shoulder of a narrow road. I played the role of the erratic driver. Christina steadied me as the wait staff weaved around us.

We reached the sink, and in retrospect, for reasons I cannot begin to fathom, I held up the front of my dress and started licking off the residual salsa.

“Yummy in my tummy,” I said.

“Stop that,” chided Christina. She pulled my hand away and smoothed the front of my dress down. “The other girls are starting to stare.”

I pulled my ID out of my purse and flashed the three other girls washing up at the sink in a different way.

“It’s okay,” I assured. “I’m a girl. It says so on my license. See?”

“Sorry,” said Christina with an embarrassed smile. “My friend’s had one drink too many.”
With flushed cheeks, Christina started vigorously treating the stain. “Lucky for you,” she said, “I always carry a stain remover pen in my purse…There. Done. Like it never even happened.”

Swaying side-to-side a little, I said, “Almost.” I made a b-line for one of the stalls, relishing the clicking sound my wedges made on the tile floor the whole time.

Stepping in, it didn’t even occur to me that standing up was an option for me. It was like I was on autopilot as I hiked up my skirt, slid down my panties, and plopped on down on the cool seat.

Still assuming the role of the mother hen, Christina sat down in the stall next to me.

“Ahhh,” I uttered. “I’m peeing,” I quietly announced to Christina. “I’m peeing in the girl’s restroom.”

“Shush!” implored Christina.

Partially ignoring her, I started tapping my foot to a familiar rhythm. “I sat down just to try it,” I whispered. “It feels so right I can’t deny it.”

After tinkling, I joined Christina at the sink. Her silence sobered me up ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I really don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“I do,” she said, forcing a half-smile. Like a mime, she chugged a few drinks.

“Okay,” I relented. “I’ll be a good girl and take it easy.”

“And try to take it easy on Ben as well,” urged Christina. “With those batting flirtatious eyes I mean. It may seem like just innocent fun to you, but…be careful is all I’m saying, especially when it comes to guys.”

“Okay,” I said, following her out.

If only my father was here to hear what Christina had just said to me!

We rejoined Ben. However, the recently reigned in “Alana” would prove to be as short lived as a summer night.

I sat down to the site of my entrée, and another addition.

“I took the liberty of ordering another Margarita for you,” said Ben.

“Thanks,” I said.

But there was no gratitude in Christina’s eyes. Nor was there a withering glare. I was as impressed with her restraint as Ben was with my ability to hold my liquor no doubt.

The hot Florida sun drifted toward the horizon. Spanish guitar drifted our way on the cool breeze of evening. As I digested, a wonderful feeling of perfect contentment washed over me like cool surf on a beach.

I sipped the remnants of my fourth or fifth margarita. It didn’t matter which. What did matter was what I was going to say to a certain request directed my way by Ben.

“I was thinking,” he said. “It’s such a nice evening and I was wondering if you’d like to go for a walk along the beach with me.”

I looked over at Christina.

“Are you feeling up for it?” I asked.

It wasn’t until I looked into Christina’s tranquil contemplative eyes that I understood that if he were communicating via facebook, only one of us would receive the event invite.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” said Ben. “If you and Christina have other plans, that’s cool.”

“Don’t feel like you need to call it an early night on my account,” said Christina.

“Umm,” I said, meeting Ben’s hopeful eyes with my searching ones.

Christina yawned. “It’s been a long day. I think I’m going to go back to the room and take a hot bath.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’d like to…the walk I mean.”

“Great,” said Ben. “Let me take care of the check first.”

Christina stood up and enjoyed a luxurious stretch like a cat during a sunbath.

I latched onto her like a child to its mother’s leg.

“I love you Christina,” I said. “You’re like the bestest BFF a girl could ask for.”

Christina smiled and whispered in my ear.

“Just be careful,” she advised.

I whispered right back.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “It’s not like I’m going to get pregnant or something.”

“Shall we?” asked Ben.

A warm smile brushed its way across my face as the cool breeze brushed between my soft legs, rippling my dress ever so slightly.

We didn’t walk hand-in-hand as we stepped onto the cool sand of evening. However, I wanted so much for my right hand to grasp his instead of grasping my cute little tan wedges.

Umbrellas and chairs were being folded up and the stragglers were trudging their way back to the strip which was lighting up.

I spun around when we reached the shoreline.

“Wheee! Isn’t this wonderful?” I exclaimed. “I just love digging my toes into the cool sand. Don’t you?”

“Mmm-hmm,” said Ben.

“Do you want to see me do a cartwheel?” I asked.

“Maybe after we walk down a ways…that way,” he said.

The cool surf glided under the arches of my dainty feet, giving me a pleasant shiver every now and again.

With a faraway look in my eyes I said, “I feel like a little…girl again.”

“And I feel…I feel kinda happy again,” said Ben.

“Oh?” I wondered. “You’ve seemed pretty happy since I first met you.”

“I just figured maybe if I smiled enough, I might actually start smiling on the inside,” he said.

His smile temporarily retreated like the frothy waves an instant later.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“I almost didn’t come down here,” said Ben. “I was afraid that every time I saw a couple on the beach I’d be reminded of what I’ve lost.”

Now I couldn’t help myself. I reached over and grasped his large hand.

“Well you’re not alone now,” I said.

Ben smiled. “I’m glad I came down,” he said. “I’m glad I got the chance to meet you Alana.”

“Me too,” I said. “I almost didn’t come either. But I’m glad Christina talked me into it.” We gazed deeply into each other’s eyes. My heart started thumping in my chest and I could feel my cheeks flush. “Whew,” I declared. “I feel really warm all of the sudden. Do you? It must be all of the margaritas.”

“You did have quite a few,” said Ben.

“I know, right?” I said. “This place might as well be Vegas because I’m doing a lot of things I don’t normally do. I know this is probably hard for you to believe, but I’m normally quite shy.”

I stopped and gazed across the water at the pale pink-orange horizon. Ben stood next to me and we listened to the waves as they scraped and lapped the shore.

“I got the impression you were a delicate flower when I first met you,” he said. “But there’s nothing wrong with being shy.”

I shifted my attention to a lone seagull patrolling the shore overhead. I pointed to it.

“But there’s something wrong with being alone, and I should know,” I said.

“It’s no fun,” said Ben. “That’s for sure.”

He stroked my hand. I had never had my hand stroked before, not by a girl and certainly not by a boy. It did something to me, something I’d never experienced before. A delicious tingly sensation rippled through my body. Warmth surged within me, stirring my blood and reddening my cheeks.

He gazed into my eyes and melted my heart with a gentle smile. When he leaned in, I was completely powerless to resist. I closed my eyes and lifted up my chin.

When our lips touched, all I can say is wow! The localized tingling sensation was even more pleasurable than the whole body one. My blood stirred even more during the long passionate kiss. But that’s not the only thing that was stirring.

My eyes went wide with panic because of what was starting to reawaken…downstairs, if you catch my drift. It was trying to break free from its restraints as much as my passion had.

Stupid birth defect!

“I’ve…I’ve gotta go,” I said.

“Why?” wondered Ben.

“I’m not feeling well,” I said. “It’s not you. I had a wonderful time. I’ve just got to go.”

I turned and rushed away, kicking up sand the whole way. When I did, Ben shouted in my direction.

“Will I see you again?” he asked.

All I could do was manage a nod.

I darted back to the strip, wedges in one hand and the other pulling my skirt away from my hips. From the beach back to the boardwalk, and from the boardwalk back to the hotel, I was terrified “it” was going to break free from its restraints, so much so that I took the stairs instead of the elevator.

When I reached my floor, I padded across the carpet, fumbled for my keycard and burst through the door. My heart was still racing when I collapsed on the bed and started sobbing.

I directed all of my pain, embarrassment, and frustration at the mistake between my legs. I smacked it a few times, eliciting a few more stinging tears which joined the stream down either cheek.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” I cried. “It’s not fair. It’s just not fair. Why did you do this to me? Why God? Why me?”

It wasn’t until I cried myself out that I realized something was conspicuously absent.

I knocked on the bathroom door.

“Christina? Christina?”

But there was no one.

“I’d better text her,” I said.

My heart raced but this time in a bad way, a very bad way when I realized something else was missing.

“Oh shit! My purse!”

My first day as a woman and I’d already been absent minded enough to leave it somewhere.

Great! I’ll probably get my period next.

I rushed downstairs. But I didn’t even make it across the lobby when I heard a familiar voice echo across the marble floor.

“Forget something?” said Ben with a smile.

I rushed over to him and embraced him without a second thought.

“Thank you,” I said breathlessly. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” I gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

Now it was his turn for his cheeks to flush.

“No problem at all,” he assured. “But it’s really not me you should be thanking. Actually, it was Christina. She handed it to me shortly after you rushed off…Why did you rush off?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I assured. “I feel better now.” I grinned ear-to-ear as I clutched my purse closer. “Much better…Where is Christina by the way?”

Ben shrugged his shoulders. “All she told me was that she was going to hang out with a friend at a club.”

Arms akimbo, with incredulous eyes I said, “And what club would that be? The kind that looks the other way and lets impressionable underage girls in?”

“Sorry, but I’m not Christina’s keeper,” said Ben.

“Yeah,” I conceded. “Maybe she texted me about her change of plans…no, nothing.”

“Do you want me to help you track her down?” asked Ben.

“Umm,” I began. “Sure. Why not? Like I said, you know this place better than I do…Let me ask you a question. If you were a young girl in Miami who, let’s say just for the sake of argument, has a fake ID, where would you go?”

Ben beamed a wide smile.

“I don’t know about the young girl part,” he said. “But I do know a couple hip clubs that just might meet the criteria.”

“Good,” I said. “Let’s go before Christina goes all “girls gone wild” and ends up in a Youtube video that her father finds on the internet.”

“After you,” said Ben.

Now it was my turn to play the role of chaperone. I only hoped it wasn’t too late.

---

To Be Continued in Part 4...

---

Part 4: The Real Life Test?

Just like the previous clubs, Ben and I were enveloped by noise as soon as we walked through the door, layer upon layer of chattering noise and rhythmic noise. I had to practically shout to even rise above it, like a buoy on the water.

"Ben," I said, "you look on that side of the club and I'll search the other!"

"Gotcha!" he replied.

I asked myself, if I were a high school senior girl with a convincing fake ID in my purse, where would I go first? My "woman's intuition" guided me to a location almost as crowded as the dance floor.

The bartender greeted me with more than a friendly smile, reminding me that I was A-N-D-I-E, not the hitherto invisible A-N-D-Y.

"What can I get for you Miss?" he asked.

"Uh, nothing yet," I said. "I'm looking for someone."

The bartender nodded before he turned his attention to a bubbly blond girl. However, when he turned away, someone else turned his attention on me, a by this time, already loaded person I might add, a guy who was the epitome of the frat-boy archetype.

"Still waiting for someone, huh?" he began.

"Something like that," I said.

"You know," he said, cocking his head to the side, "you look familiar. You wouldn't happen to have a sister would you?"

"Yeah, I do," I said.

"Did you two come down to Miami together?"

I shook my head. "No, because she's back in southwest Virginia."

"You sure about that darling?" he asked.

"As sure as I am that my name is Andie," I said.

"Ohh," he said, leaning in closer. "Like Andie McDowell…And just as pretty. So is your sister."

"I told you," I said, "She's not in Miami."

"Then you must have a twin," he said.

I think the blood drained from face when he said the word "twin." Now it was my turn to lean in.

"I need you to tell me everything you remember about her," I said, my face as deadpan as my eyes.

"There's not much to tell," he said, leaning against the bar. "If you were wearing a different dress, then we could recreate the scene when she totally blew me off when I tried to buy her a drink."

"Is she still here?" I asked.

"Whoa, now wait a minute beautiful," he said. "If I tell you, what do I get in return? Huh?"

I licked my lips and forced the sexiest smile I could. Suddenly, I felt like a clone of my sister.

"I'll tell you what you'll get in return," I said. "Me not throwing a drink in your face."

"Jesus!" he exclaimed. "You two are exactly alike. What, are your periods in synch or something?"

Rolling my eyes, I stood up. "You know, I'll tell you…"

After an evening of dealing with guys just like him, one after another, I was tired of being polite. Something within me broke. But before I could lay into this sexist a-hole, Ben rushed up to my side.

"I don't see her," he said. "Maybe she's in the bathroom."

I shot Mr. Frat-boy a withering glare when I spoke.

"I'm sure she is," I said, teeth clenched. "She must have needed another…tampon."

Ben's eyes were as perplexed as his cheeks were flushed.

"Let's go," I said.

"I thought you said she was…Aren't you going to check the bathroom?" he wondered.

"My feminine intuition tells me she's not in there," I said.

I rushed out of the club, fuming the whole way, and not just because I had just enjoyed a rather unpleasant initiation into girl world. Ben finally caught up to me when I reached the boardwalk. By now, I was leaning against the railing.

"Are you going to be okay?" asked Ben gingerly, hands in his pockets.

I shook my head.

"Three clubs," I said. "We've been to three clubs and…zilch. I give up. My feet are tired and I give up."

"Hey," he said. "We'll find her."

"Or we'll get there just after she's left," I said dejectedly. "Or her friend has."

"I'm not sure I…"

"Never mind," I interjected. "It's not important."

"C'mon," urged Ben. "Just one more club. Even if she's not there, maybe she'll return your texts on the way."

"I don't know," I said, shifting my gaze back to the shimmering ocean.

"Here's what I know," said Ben, resting his arms next to mine. "If you don't keep on looking, you'll regret it if…that's not to say anything bad is going to happen to Christina."

"Actually," I said with a faraway look in my eyes, "I agree with you on that. I have a feeling she's just fine…with her 'new' friend."

Without even acknowledging Ben's confused and searching eyes, I abruptly turned around.

"C'mon," I said. "Let's get going before my feet convince me to change my mind." When he rushed back up to my side, wearing an eager smile, I said, "I'll tell you Ben, I wish wedges were as comfortable as they are cute. And I wish all guys were as nice as you…Whew! Being a girl is not for the faint of heart."

"Neither is being a guy sometimes," he added. "Seriously though. For example, there was this one time…"

But a female voice from to our left cut him off, a voice as high pitched as it was confused. I half expected to see a munchkin when I turned around. Instead, little Ms. Sorority girl was standing there in her little black dress among her sorority friends with their collective mouths gaping open.

"Ben, what are you doing here?" wondered the petite redhead. Then, with daggers in her eyes, she stared me down. "And who is…who is this?"

"Babe, this isn't what it look like," said Ben.

Now it was my turn for my mouth to gape open when I looked over and saw Ben squirming as much as he was trying to backpedal.

Ben's "babe" scoffed.

With kitten eyes, I looked at Ben and said, "I thought you said that you and her…"

The wounded girl said, "Think again, Miss…Miss…"

One of her friends interjected with a nickname of her own.

Cough! Slut. Cough!

Ben's eyes smoldered when he addressed is "ex."

"First of all Heather," he said. "She's not a slut. Her name is Alana. Second of all, we're not together. She's my cousin Christina's friend."

"Oh of course," said Heather, feigning innocence. "Like, that totally explains why you're defending her and the way you two were walking together like you were strolling down the beach. I suppose the next thing you're going to tell me is that you're here in Miami doing research with your professor."

Ben hung his head in shame for a few moments before speaking.

"Look," he said, rubbing his neck. "I'm sorry I lied to you…about the research trip. I should have told you when it fell through. I don't know why I didn't. I…I guess I just came down here to clear my head."

The end of Ben's sentence hung in the air like the sea salt.

"Which head?" whispered one of Heather's friends.

Ben had completely forgotten I existed by the time he finally bridged the awkward gulf between he and Heather.

Heather stopped him dead in his tracks with the palm of her right hand.

"No," she declared coldly. "Not this time. I was stupid enough to let you lie to me once. I won't let you do it to me again…You know, what? Maybe it's better this way. Maybe it's better I break up with you here and now during spring break. Spring Break up. I was going to wait until you got back from your 'research' trip to tell you we're through. So I guess I'll go ahead and scrape the rest of our…the rest of our…whatever it was that we had, off of my shoe."

Ben opened his mouth as if to speak, but Heather cut him off as quickly as a light.

"Goodbye," she said. She raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows when she favored me with a glance. "Good luck hon."

But I wasn't taking it as in stride as Heather. No, not one bit.

Ben put his hand on my shoulder when he spoke, or at least tried to.

"Alana," he said softly. "I'm…I'm really sorry that you had to witness that."

"So am I," I said weakly, tears stinging my eyes.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"As far away from you as possible," I said, glancing over my shoulder, eyes glistening as much as the ocean.

"What about Christina?" he shouted.

I turned around and glared at his crestfallen face.

"Don't act like you all of the sudden care about her," I hissed. "You know, I've got an idea." A perverse smile momentarily kept the tears at bay. "Christina's single and apparently so are you. You two can hook up and lie to each other. And if you see Alana, tell her I said hi." I stormed off, but I still wasn't satisfied. "You know, it's guys like you that make me wish I was a lesbian!"

As I marched down the boardwalk back to my hotel, I was tired, sad, and angry, but mostly angry. I was angry I had been lied to by Ben, and probably Christina, and that scheming sister of mine. But mostly, I was angry because I had been so naïve. In that moment, I wished a certain "Britney Spears'" youtube video was my only worry.

I didn't make it even halfway back to my hotel before my phone buzzed. I reached for it and scoffed as much as Heather had scoffed when she caught Ben giving in to "restless penis syndrome."

"Seriously, she's getting back to me now?" I said.

I found the nearest bench and rested my sore little feet. I massaged them for a while before I checked the message. Turn about was fair play. If I had to wait, so did she. But my curiosity got the better of me before I loitered on the bench too long and risked having to endure another lame pickup line.

Andie, meet me at the Mexican restaurant. You know the one. There's something I need to tell you. Christina

"That's interesting," I said.

I reflected on how amazing it was with regard to how quickly Christina had come to think of me as girl, all girl, and nothing but girl. If my sister Alana was with her, and not simply a drunk frat boy's wet dream hallucination, I wondered if she would feel the same. It was time to clear the air as much as Heather had done earlier.

~o~O~o~

It was like standing in front of a mirror when the hostess led me to the table. Christina and her "friend" were as speechless as Ben had been earlier as I stood there, arms crossed and stiff as a board.

Shaking my head, I said, "You two are unbelievable." My sister Alana opened her cherry red lip-stained mouth, but I cut her off like an ungrateful heir. "Uh-uh-uh. I have half a mind to take a taxi to the airport and trade in my return ticket for an earlier departure…At least Miss Kitty wouldn't lie to me."

"There's a really good explanation for this," said Alana sheepishly.

"There sure as hell better be," I said, salvaging that stone-hard look of indifference that allowed me to survive the charade that was Andy for so long.

"Take a seat and we'll tell you," offered Christina.

"How about you tell me," I said. "Then I'll decide if I want to sit down."

Alana looked over at Christine and her pursed lips.

Alana said, "Should I or…"

"Why don't I go first," said Christina. She cleared her throat, never once making eye contact as she began. "You remember how I told you I was lucky? Well I wasn't lying. I am one of the lucky ones. But one of my friends isn't that lucky. Her cancer hasn't gone into remission; in fact, it's gotten worse, and it'll continue to get worse unless she gets the treatment she needs."

"Unfortunately," added Alana, it's an experimental treatment and it's not cheap. And it's not covered by her insurance either."

"Who is she?" I asked with softened expression.

"Her name isn't really that important," said Christina. "What is important is that you help us raise the money to pay for her treatment."

"Me?" I wondered. "I don't understand. How can I possibly help? I barely have enough money left over to pay my car insurance after paying my rent and buying my food."

"You're wrong," argued my sister, looking me square in the eyes. "There is something you can do. And from the moment Christina did your makeover, you've already started doing it."

In silence, I eased myself down in a chair at their table. My interest was certainly piqued.

"Go on," I said.

"Andie," said Alana. "I've know you've always been on the shy side."

"Until my little trip here," I remarked drolly.

"All the better," said Alana. "How would you feel about being filmed….not for a television show or anything, but for a docu-series about the lives of transwomen."

"About as thrilled as going out with Ben on a date," I said.

"Think about it Andie," chimed in Christina, with revived enthusiasm, "Now that you've come out to us, you could educate thousands, maybe even millions of people about what it's really like to be a transwoman. You and the other girls in the docu-series could leave people with a positive impression."

"She's right," said Alana. "Some people's minds have been poisoned by the Jerry Springer freak portrayal or their own religion…or both. You have the opportunity to be the antidote, to show everyone you're just like any other woman."

"Oh I bet," I said, rolling my eyes. "I'm sure I could tell people all about what it's like to be a transwoman; after all, I have so much experience…wow, almost twenty-four hours," I said, glancing at my cellphone.

"I know you're afraid," said Alana. "And I also know you're angry…at me mostly. But please, for Christina's friend's sake and more importantly for your sake, think it over before you go rushing off to the airport. Here…Check out this facebook page on my smartphone."

"I see I have something in common with the director," I said. "She looks amazing. She must be fully transitioned."

I am so jealous of her!

"But she wants to show people what it's like to be in transition," said Alana.

I handed Alana back her smartphone, at which point the waiter showed up, checking up on us girls.

"Can I bring you something to drink Miss?" he asked.

I shook my head. It wasn't until after he left that I managed a weak reply.

"I need some time to think about it," I said, studying my nails.

I rose to my feet as silently as a whisper. There was only the sound of my dress rippling in the breeze.

Unlike everyone else lately, I didn't lie. I didn't rush back to the hotel room, stuff all of "my" clothes back into my cramped carryon, and then wave down a taxi. I strolled toward the empty beach, its wavy sand like a miniature version of the Sahara. It quickly became my own private Oasis.

I stood where sun-baked sand meets ocean-refreshed grains. On this coolness, I pondered the gray-area that was the gender limbo I was in. The soft approach of footsteps after what seemed, to me, like only a few minutes, broke the spell the waxing and waning ocean held over me. And I prayed they weren't Ben's…or Heather's footsteps.

I said, "Alana, I thought I told you I wanted to be alone.

"You were," she said. "For over fifteen minutes. Besides, it's not safe for a girl to be all alone on a beach this time of the night."

"At least I already learned what pricks guys can be," I said.

"Not all," remarked Alana, staring off at her own spot on the horizon.

"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?" I asked. "I'm a big girl…transwoman. Whatever label I fall under. I would never do something like this to you Alana."

"You wouldn't have done anything period unless Christina and I had given you a kick in your complacency."

I tried to protest with outraged eyes, but Alana, arms akimbo, stared me down with the look she had learned so well from our mother.

"You know it's true," she said. "Your life would continue to consist of holing yourself up in your room and playing video games and watching TV with Miss Kitty on your lap as she licks off the potato chip crumbs from your wrinkled t-shirt."

"So what?" I hissed. "It was my choice. Okay? It was my choice."

"So why did you choose to be miserable?" asked my sister in a voice as soft as silk.

"Why do you think?" I said. "Because it was uncomplicated. Was I unhappy? Yes. Were things easier…sort of…I guess."

"But aren't things easier now, now that you're able to be yourself?" she asked.

I was as silent as the stars shining above, as silent as God had always been in my life up until now.

"I want to show you something Andie," she said.

Alana slowly unzipped her purse. She reached in with her perfectly manicured pink nails and pulled out something rather unremarkable.

"What is that?" I asked. "Your plane ticket?"

Alana shook her head as gently as an evening Miami breeze.

"I snatched the folded sheet of dingy white computer paper from her outstretched hand. I couldn't even get past the first few sentences before tears dampened the paper.

"Where did you get this? Where?" I snapped.

"After you disappeared," she said, head bowed like a guilty child. "You know, the incident mom and dad never ever talk about."

"Jesus," I said. "Five years later and I'm still hearing about it. First, the video of me doing my best Brittany Spears imitation and now this. Let me ask you something. Is there anything in my room you haven't gone through? Do I have any privacy?"

"Privacy is for the living," said Alana. "When you disappeared, we didn't hear from you for almost a week, a week Andy. We thought you were dead. Mom and Dad kept waiting for a police officer to come knocking and tell them they had to come down to identify your body. Mom and dad didn't sleep for days. Neither did I."

"I'm sorry," I cried. "How many times do I have to say it? I'm sorry I just started driving and wound up all the way in California. It was stupid, I know. But that didn't give you the right to go through my computer."

"You should be grateful I did," said Alana. "I found that note you wrote before mom and dad did, and deleted it."

"But not before you printed it out," I said.

Alana's eyes took on a faraway look before she broke an uncomfortable silence.

"Before I read the note, I always suspected," she said. "I always knew you were different than all of my friends' brothers. The note just confirmed it. But I had no idea how much trying to be a boy was hurting you, how much being what everyone expected you to be was tearing you up inside. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you had to be in so much pain for so long." She wiped away a tear.

"If you knew how much I was hurting, then why didn't you say something earlier?" I asked in weary tone. "Why?"

"Because I had no right to try and drag you kicking and screaming out of the closet," she said. "I knew you had to decide when the time was right."

"Or have someone decide it for me," I said, arms crossed. "Tell me something Alana, do you think mom and dad suspect, you know, that they really have a daughter instead of a son?"

"Hmmm," mused Alana. "If anything, I think they think you're gay."

"Gay?" I whined.

"Think about it," said Alana. "I mean, when was the last time you brought a girl home?"

"What about senior year, at Prom?" I said.

Alana chuckled.

"That went well," she said, rolling her eyes.

"How would you know?" I said, in indignant tone.

"Duh, I was there, remember?" she said, crossing her tanned arms. "She was practically throwing herself at you; in fact, later on she confided in me that you could barely stand to kiss her on the cheek…It's actually kind of funny. She thought she was cursed to be a gay magnet."

"I don't think mom and dad would think it was that funny," I said.

"It's okay to like guys," said Alana matter-of-factly. "Lord knows I have over the years. And it's okay to be transgender."

"Too bad everyone doesn't feel the same way," I said.

I eased my way down onto the sand which sparkled in the moonlight, and gazed off into the distance at a passing ship.

Alana sat down next to me and gently grasped my soft hand. She spoke to me as gently as the waves were lapping the shore.

"Mom and dad love you just like I do," said Alana. "They'll come around."

"After dad recovers from his stroke from the shock," I joked.

"From what I've learned from all of the support group sites, fathers typically have a more difficult time accepting their new daughter." She smiled before saying, "But I hear sisters have an easier time with it, twin sisters at least." She gave me a wink.

Alana's words and her embrace were as reassuring to my troubled mind as the waves and gentle breeze were comforting. The smile she coaxed out of me was as warm as hers.

"I love you Alana," I said.

I love you too sis," she replied. "By the way, have you decided on a name yet?"

"Maybe you can help me with that," I said. "I'll need one for the documentary."

"Well," she began. "For the time being, come on A-N-D-I-E. The night is still young. Let's make this girl's night out one to remember!"

We got up and walked hand-in-hand back to the gleaming strip. It was like a switch had been flipped in my troubled mind. All of the sudden, I felt truly alive for the first time in my life. I was as unburdened as a little child building a sand castle on the beach.