Belle of Vicksburg
-2-
459 Willard Lane, Vicksburg, Mississippi.

I cursed my fate for the rest of the day and on the bus ride home. You see I live in a kind of run down section of town. The side of town that the poor people come from. The people in Vicksburg call this neighborhood “The Swamp'' because it is in a low lying area. The whole area is prone to flooding each spring the Mississippi River swollen by melting ice from up North jumps its bank and creeps into the block. Our house is kind of this two story creole cottage located toward the back of the block. It also happens to be the closest one to the banks of the Yazoo River and our yard is one of the ones that are most prone to flooding.

Anyway I took a deep breath as I stepped off the bush, and breathed in the diesel fumes of the bush. Our public school buses always smelled like that, they had that sour diesel smell to them. Taking a deep breath I nodded my head and slowly made my way through the yard. Our yard looked like a swamp, okay it really looked like a marsh. The grass was tall, it reached up to my ankles. The grass was tall and it needed cutting. Another chore on the list I suppose.

Just then a strong gust of wind blew in directly from the river and the smell of rotten eggs toward me. I gagged a little and almost threw up in my mouth. I guess it was time to do something with the ditch. You see at the edge of our property there is a ditch. The ditch is filled with stagnant water and rotting vegetation. Wild cattails grow on all sides of the ditch and sometimes wild animals fall into the ditch and die. I also think the house next to us dumps their raw sewage into the ditch to shave a few pennies off their sewer bill.

And ditch is also a breeding ground for mosquitoes that could carry such dreaded and feared mosquito borne diseases such as West Nile and Malaria. It was also home to snakes. When I cut the grass about once a fortnight I always had to be on the lookout for snakes, one good, solid strike from a rattlesnake or his cousin the water moccasin would really put your day into a tale spin. Okay, really you did not have to worry about the rattlesnake, your biggest concern was the water moccasin, the water moccasin I'm sure found the cattail and reed covered ditch bank a perfect home. Plus, I knew from the thousands of tiny mud castles that dotted the yard each spring that crayfish by the thousands must make that ditch their home as well.

In short the nickname “The Swamp” really lived up to its name. There was a plus. I was only a mile and half as the crow flies from downtown Vicksburg. And from there it was only two more miles to the large regional shopping mall. I'll be honest with you, the words of my friend David haunted me. He was expecting me to show up and look like a boy in a damn skirt so the whole school could just laugh their ass off at me. And for the second time that day I saw red. Without thinking I started to march down the concrete driveway and quickly I turned onto the brick paved sidewalk that connected our front porch with the concrete driveway. A dozen, mean, pissed off feral cats scattered to the seven winds as I pushed through them. That is another problem we had down here in “The Swamp” feral cats roamed the neighborhood.

The feral cats that roamed around the block were not these cute, fluffy, meowing little cuddly creatures the name conjured up. No, these things were huge, often weighing around twenty stones maybe? And they often attacked the many stray dogs that roamed around the neighborhood, turning over trash cans in search of their next meal. And nine times out of then they won the battle and clawed the dog to death.
And sometimes the dog would win the day. Did we call animal control? Yes, but Vicksburg Animal Control turned a blind eye to our troubles. Anyway, as I pushed past the collection of wild feral cats, smelling the gut wrenching smell of cat piss as I did so. I pushed upon the wooden door and walked into our simply furnished living room.

Our house is kind of like most houses built in this neighborhood. When you walk through the front door, you will enter the living room. The living room is the hub of our house if you will. If you keep going straight you will enter the kitchen. Our kitchen is just your basic kind of kitchen. The floor is coated with linoleum.

In the middle you will find a simple, wooden table that had been since mom brought the house after she and dad split apart, and pushed beside the wall was a gas burning stove, beside the stove a fridge that again had been here since mom had brought the house. And beside the fridge a simple wooden down that leads down a flight of wooden stairs to the basement. The basement is your average basement, it has a concrete floor that is cracked from one end to the other, a work bench and it smells moldy and musty.

Anyway back to the living room, it is simple, again the floor is coated with linoleum. A large bay window overlooks the screened in front porch. Screen porches are common in the south, and again our yard needs attention. Furnishings are simple, an old leather sofa, a chair and a vintage television. We don't have cable, we can't afford it, so we make do with the free channels. Those are channels on through twelve and sometimes we can pick up a thirteenth channel if it's a calm, cloudless day outside.

Anyway to the left side of the living room there is another doorway, this doorway leads down a long hallway. At the end of this hallway there is something mom likes to call a “Half Bathroom” I guess because it only contains a sink and a toilet. If you want to get a shower you need to trek upstairs to the upstairs bathroom. Anyway this hallway leads to two other rooms. One is kind of a dimly lit room that always musty

This room has a small work desk and the walls are lined with books that sit on selves that have been built into a wall. I guess the former owner loved to read, because there are dozens and dozens of old books sitting on those shelves, most of them seem to just be collecting dust. The room is always cold, and like I said it's must and dusty and no amount of polishing, and dusting ever seems to leave a scratch or come close to touching the layer of dust that has settled there throughout the years.

Across from here one will find the guest room. The guest room was nothing but a spare bed, a spare dresser and we mostly used it for storage. In the hallway there was a stairwell, the stairwell led to the second floor. Here my mom had her own bedroom. My older sister who was a senior had her own bedroom. And also here was my room. And the house's only full size bathroom was located at the end of the hallway.

In the middle of the hallway, one could see dangling down a cord of braided rope. Pulling upon this rope would cause a hide away ladder to fold down, that ladder is what mom called an 'Attic Ladder' and by climbing it one would climb up to the attic were we kept a wide assortment of Halloween decorations, Christmas decorations, and a few Easter decorations. Despite our somewhat limited household income, and the often or not dreadful state of our front yard, not to mention our backyard. Mom was keen to decorate the yard for the holidays. I think it was one of her simple pleasures in life.

All of these thoughts swirled around inside my head as I climbed the wooden stairs. Taking a deep breath I pushed open the door that led to my bedroom and tossed my brown leather school satchel down upon the unmade bed and heaved a big sigh. My room was nothing fancy to look at. Just four plain walls that had been painted a light blue by the former owner. Trimmed in pastel pink at the top and white at the bottom. A simple bed that I think came from an old Mercy hospital with a collection of mix match covers and a desk where one rested a laptop that needed to be updated or maybe I should just go down to the local pawn shop and buy a brand new one.

Yes, we could not afford cable, but we could afford the internet. Now, normally I would open my leather school satchel, pull out my various textbooks and start right away on my homework. But right now my mind was still thinking about that dumb bet I'd made. Then an idea fell into my head. It was a crazy idea, a totally insane idea. But it struck me as the keenest way to turn the tables.

Now, I'm a bit on the androgynous side of things. And oddly enough the ongoing struggle with puberty has done nothing for me. My voice hasn't deepened in the slightest, I have little or no sex drive. I'm still short, and I rarely need to shave. Well I would be lying if I said I had little or no sex drive. I do tend to google risque images from time to time, And I do tend to read stories about girls getting covered in sticky things like custard, yogurt, chocolate sauce, chocolate pudding, gunge or getting pied in the face. That along with my normal reading of varies fanfiction authors and the many works of Robert Jordan and J.R.R Tolkien that lined the walls of my bedroom

Bun of that ever made its way into the half ass attempts at writing I tried to pass as stories. Anyway I've gotten off track, and now it's time to get back on track.

Anyway instead of going ahead and tackling my homework and getting it out of the way, tonight a light load anyway I decided to boot up my computer and then I took a deep breath as I peered up into space. Now I'm something of an “Otaku” , that urban slang for somebody who is really into anime. Now I'm going to be up front with you. I'm really into anime. I first got into anime a few years ago when I stumbled upon Toonami while I was doing my homework at a friend's house. Anyway I soon found you could buy bundles of DVD's of those shows for cheap at the local charity/pawn shops. So in a way Toonami was my gateway into the world of anime. Anyway I bring that up, simply because from time to time a guy often would be talked into crossdressing by the female cast for a gag or something. And that was often just done for laughs and giggles.

I mean though they were dressed up as girls, you could still clearly tell that they were a guy and they acted and talked like a guy. And that always bothered me a little/ And the more I thought about it the more bothered I became. Finally I pushed my rolling chair back and stood up and took a deep breath I proclaimed.

“Okay! Okay!” I said taking a deep breath “Two can play at this game!”

I don;t know what came over me at that moment. But a few minutes later I found myself walking into the upstairs bathroom. I emptied my bladder, then washed my hands, then my face even though I did not need to, I then found myself starting to shave again. Then I washed my face yet again, then I took off my school trousers, followed by my socks, then my boxers, then finally my button down school shirt, and finally my undershirt.

Then I stepped into the shower and took a nice, long, hot as hell shower. I washed and conditioned my hair and then on a whim I used one of my sister's disposable razors and some of her shaving foam to tidy up my legs.

Having been in a household with two girls, I'd seen them shave their legs dozens of times. So it was kind of second nature to me. Once that was done I washed my whole body, stepped out, toweled off. Dosed myself with sweet smelling bathing powder, stepped into my room, tossed on a pair of clean boxers, a clean pair of socks and a more casual shirt. Then I slipped on a pair of jeans and a pair of trainers.

And finally I started to brush my hair. As I brushed my hair I noticed how my wet locks of hair framed my round oval face. I smiled a little, already I could see the vision forming in the back of my head.

:If you gotta cross thin ice, you might as well do it in a dance.” I sang to myself.

To summon it all up, because I lost a bet, my friend or was he really a fucking bastard, after eight years I still did not know the answer expected me to show up for school tomorrow morning and make a total fool of myself so our little social group could get off a few cheap laughs, maybe even flip my skirt just to see if I was wearing boxers under it. Cause boys do that type of dumb shit. But let me run this idea past you. What if I showed up to school tomorrow dressed up like a girl? Not just any girl, a girl that  woke up that morning and decided she was finally going to leave that tomboy phase of her life behind her and finally decided to embrace her inner femininity? That would turn the tables on David big time, that would take all the wind out of his sails.

Little did I know I was starting out a grand misadventure. At that very moment, one door was slowly starting to close and another one was about to open. If I had foresaw the hardships, toil, and blood shed awaited me further down this road at that very moment. I'm sure I would have stopped, paused and turned around and said to hell with this dumb bet. But I did not. So please, read on.

The Belle of Vicksburg
-3-
I Think My New Name Will Be Ashley Christina Hull!

Time was of the essence, it was already three o' clock in the afternoon. I knew mom would be home in about an hour, my older sister Amy would also be home soon. Amy was a cheerleader and had been staying late to perfect their newest stunts. Anyway, I could feel time slipping through my hands. I knew I had to act fast, but not too fast, there was an old saying that grandmother was fond of. And that was, haste makes waste. I had to move with a purpose. And so I took a deep breath. I was already dressed, good that meant the first step had already been done. The next thing was to collect my wallet and my phone.

Once those items had been collected, I started down the stairs. Quickly I walked into the kitchen, I scanned the counter top till my eyes fell on a pad of yellow legal paper. A fountain pen could be seen sitting by the table. I started toward the pad and quickly picked up the pen and then in my best handwriting I wrote the following note.

“Mom,” That was a good start, as good as any I guess. “Going to the shop to pick up some milk and eggs. Call or text me, should be home in about an hour or two.” I spoke each word aloud as I wrote it down. I then took another deep breath and signed the note “Ash” and then I wrote the down date and the time. I pinned the note to the fridge using one of the baker's dozen or so magnets that dotted the fridge. Mom loved to collect fridge magnets.

With that done I poked my house key and bolted out the door. Making sure the door was locked behind me. Okay that was done. And my heart was racing like a warhorse now. Quickly I pulled out my phone and after a few minutes of googling I found the number I was looking for. Vicksburg Taxi Services.

Now, Vicksburg does have a trolley, kind of hold over from the olden days. But it only runs through the so called 'Historical District' that so say downtown and the surrounding neighborhoods of Clay, Cherry and China. Those neighborhoods are filled to the brim with historical homes and Southern Gothic looking churches. So unless you felt like walking, which I did not, or riding your bike, which I did not, then your best bet was to call upon one of the city's taxi services. None which really frilled me. But then again beggars can't be choosers.

So with that in mind, I picked up my phone and dialed the first number that I came across. A few seconds later a gruff sounding man picked up on the other end of the line. He sounded drunk or hung over. His accent was thick, and he sounded like one of the river rats that lived on houseboats on the river. He also sounded creole, which marked him as somebody from across the old iron river bridge. That to say he came from the Louisiana side of the river.

“Good afternoon, thank you for calling Vicksburg Taxi Service. This is Big Russel, what can I do for you? He muttered over the phone. I swear I could have smelled the beer on his breath.

I paused and took a deep breath as I tried to collect my thought that at that very moment had been scattered to the four corners of the earth. A name that is one thing I'd not thought of, a name, and I needed one, I needed one quick, fast and in a hurry. I must have been taking too long to think of a name because a few seconds later the gruff voice on the other end of the line tuned in and said.

“Hey! Are you still there kid? I'm burning mother fucking daylight here? This better not be some prank call? I promise you kid if this is a prank call I'll come down there and fatten your lip!”

I took a deep breath and silently under my breath I repeated the phrase 'Heat from fire, fire from heat' . It was supposed to be a phrase that transgender people used when they were training their voices. Not that I was transgender, at least I don't think I am. I just found it useful when I did Roleplaying sessions with my friends. I mean I often played female characters, so I had to sound like a girl right?

“What is your name and address kid? A phone number would be nice too. That way one of my guys can call you when he gets there. That is, if this is a real call and not some prank Cause let me tell you something, if this some smart ass kid's idea of a prank then there is  going to be  hell to  pay. I promise you that, I will personally take great delight in busting the big, fat lips of some smart ass kid who sends one of my guys halfway across this rotten town to pick somebody up and only jinxes him in the end.”

“Ashley Christina Hull.” I said after a few tense seconds. “459 Willard Lane. It's kind of the swampy looking house toward the back of the neighborhood. It's the house that looks toward the Yazoo River. Look for the house with a yellow mailbox that has a huge Sunflower painted on the left side of it. I'll be outside waiting on your guy. My phone number is 662-891-1654.” I said rattling off my information like I was some kind of inhuman robot.

“Oh okay. I'm going to send one of my guys out. He should be there in about ten or so minutes.” He said with a clearly annoyed tone of voice. And with that he hung the phone up.

I took a deep breath and hung the phone up. Then I started to sink down to the floor. My heart was racing like a racehorse. What in the name of God and all the saints have I gotten myself into. I closed my eyes and folded my arms across my chest. The truth was starting to finally dawn on me. The simple, honest truth: I'd been hoodwinked into wearing a skirt tomorrow. And in order to make this work and not make a total fool out of myself I had to learn in a short twelve hours how to walk in a skirt, how to sit down in a skirt and how to move about with exposing myself.

I did not have long to think about that. For soon my phone was buzzing off. I looked down and noticed the number appearing on the cracked and dirty screen was a new one. It took a few, longer than I would have liked seconds of hard debating before I decided to accept the ball. A rough, masculine voice answered on the other line.

“Hey. I'm supposed to pick  Ashley Christina Hull from this place.” The voice said.

“And who might this be?” I asked with a little too much pepper. “Sorry.” I quickly added once I caught the tone of my voice. I quickly added. “I had a pretty rough day at school. So I'm a little on edge.”

The guy on the other end muttered something along the lines of “Smart Mouth Kids” and “Kids these days need a good slapping to keep them in line.” Or that's what I thought he said. It was just a jumble of words. I barely understood one word in ten. Finally he said,

“Okay let's start over.” He said, taking a deep breath. “Good afternoon, this is Joe Dirt from Vicksburg Taxi Service. I'm here because a girl called Ashley Christina Hull called down to the station requesting a lift and this is the address she gave. I'm going to give about five more minutes before I decide enough is enough and pull off. If you're her. Get out here and let's get this show on the road. I got a line of people waiting and I'm losing money here.”
Joe Dirt seemed annoyed and a little tense.

“Oh! Yes I'm so sorry!” I bowed as I felt the phone to my ear. “I'll be right out sir!” I added it quickly. I then hung up, I took a deep breath as I slipped my phone into my pocket and checked my face once more in the mirror that hung in the hallway. I quickly made a mental note to add a tube of lip gloss to my list of items I would need for tomorrow.

“I might as well add eyeliner and mascara to that too!” I said as I bolted out the door and turned upon my heel and made sure the door was locked before I skipped off the front porch. And as I expected a yellow and black checkered taxi cab was waiting for me in our concrete driveway.

I smiled and opened the door and slipped right in. I then closed the door and buckled myself up. I then peered toward the driver and tried my best to seem natural, I said.

“Hey, I'm sorry for taking so long. But I had to fix my face. You never know when a cute boy might show up.” I said blushing a little. It sounded better in my head. Trust me, it sounded way better in my head.

“So. Where are we going sweetheart? Not planning on running away are you? Cause I don't do that mess. I mean I can drive you down to the train station or the bus stop. After that you're on your own. I mean if I see your face plastered to the side of Wal-Mart tomorrow morning. I'm not going to call anyone or leave a tip or report you missing.” The driver was rambling now.

“No.” I said cutting him off. “I just need you to run me to Wal-Mart out on the highway. I need to do a few last minute things for tonight's dinner and it's too far for me to bike.” I said, taking a deep breath. “I'm not running away from home either. Trust me, if I was running away from home, I'd have more on me than just my purse.” I said blowing out a stream of hot air.

“Whatever kid.” He said as started to back out of our driveway.

“I'm not a kid!” I said again with a little too much pepper. “I have a name you know!” I added again, again with a little too much pepper.

“Okay, what is your name then little miss?” He muttered as he finished backing out of the driveway and onto the road. A few minutes later we were zooming our way down to Wal-Mart, the cheapest place in town to buy groceries and the only place in town that sold school uniforms. Well school uniforms for us public school kids.

“Ashley Christina Hull.” I said without giving it a second thought. My mother, often told me, normally after having one or two glasses of red wine have a really hard day working the E.R that had I'd been born a girl instead of a boy, that she would have given me the first name of Ashley, she would have given me that name to honor her older sister who had passed away when she was Junior High from Leukemia. She figured giving me her name would have been a way of keeping at least part of her alive and honoring her memory.

The second name Christina was my grandmother's name. Grandmother was one hell of a woman. She was a strong woman, having buried one daughter and raised another to productive womanhood. Even in her advanced age she maintained a zest for living and often traveled the world.

And Hull had been my mothers maiden name. She had been a Shoemaker before she and my dad had split apart following a really nasty fight that had started when mom found dad in bed with the next store neighbor. With a dozen used condoms scattered about on the floor. After the split she gave up that name and reclaimed her maiden name. So yes, to me the name made perfect sense and better yet there was some history behind it.

“Okay Ashley Christina Hull. I'll try to remember that name just in case your pretty face gets put on the side of a milk carton. I'll try to remember your face too. Heck I'll even go ahead and light an Votive candle for you down at Holy Trinity Roman Catholic Church.” He muttered as he pulled out onto the Highway.

I took a deep breath and heaved another heavy sigh.

“Thanks.” I paused. “Thanks for that Joe Dirt.”

“Call me Maurice. That the name my mom gave me when I popped out of her pussy forty years ago at Mercy Hospital. The one that located on Clay Street, the one that rumored to haunted by the nurse, what you kid's call her 'Nurse Spooky'. Anyway she was a big fan of the Steven Miller Band. Their all time classic song The Joker just happened to be playing on the radio at the time. I just go by Joe Dirt cause I'm from across the river. Listen kid. I like you, I don't know if Ashley Christina Hull is your real name or not. But I have a daughter around your age, she is attending All Saints Academy right now. Anyway this ride is on the house, if your really going to Wal-Mart that is.” Maurice said as he looked up into the rear view mirror and peered into the back seat.

“Thank you. Yes, I'm going to Wal-Mart. And if you could, could you please come back and pick me up in about forty or so minutes?” I asked as I looked out the window.

“Sure. Is that number you gave my boss your house number or your personal cell phone number?” Maurice said as he pulled into the crowded Wal-Mart parking lot.

“That is my personal number.” I said blushing a little as I waited for him to stop the car.

“Aright kid. Here what I'm going to do, I'm going to give you an hour to get your things and get back here. I'll give you a call when that hour is up. And then I'll drive you home. Now I'm not going to charge you this time, cause I figured this is something you need to do.” Maurice said as he peered at me. “But don't take advantage of me, okay? Listen to me kid, this town is full of thugs, its a rough town. And a pretty girl like you out by yourself. Well, not trying to scare you or anything, but she can end up drugged and sold into one of those houses of pleasure they have across the river. And like I said before, I have a  little girl around your age. And I worry about her sometimes.”

I blinked and blinked again. I was confused, had he really mistaken me for a girl? I mean I was flattered, I wanted to present myself as a young woman. In fact I had to make my plan work. But there was something about the man's words that chilled me to the core. What did he mean by how pretty young girls often found themselves getting drugged and solid into a cat house? And what was a cat house anyway?

“Okay thank you sir.” I said as I opened the door and stepped into the crowded parking lot. I closed the door behind me and watched Maurice drive away. Once he was gone I peered toward the massive concrete building. It was time to take the plunge into girlhood I suppose

Belle of Vicksburg
-4-
Shopping

I think now I should tell you a little about my school. Like most public schools in Mississippi, the Vicksburg Public School system required all of its students from Kindergarten to Twelve grade to wear uniforms. Now I'm sure right now your mind is conjuring up images of posh private schools when I say that word uniforms. And you would be correct, the most posh school in Vicksburg. St. Katherine's Episcopal Academy did require its students to wear a uniform. But only the bourgeoisie of Vicksburg could afford to send their sons and daughters there. And beside you had to special order those uniforms from a tailoring company out of Jackson.

Now the uniform requirement for my school was simple enough. Males had to wear white polo shirts, either short or long sleeves. They were supposed to be tucked into the waistline of khaki pants that had to be long no matter the season or the weather. A blessing in the cold, bitter, winter months and a curse in the warmer summer months. For females, a white polo shirt, short or long sleeve, but they could either have khaki or navy colored long pants or a khaki or navy colored pleated skirt. If you wore a skirt it needed to fall just above the knee and you had to wear white stockings with it.

Girls were also allowed to wear make-up, but their make-up had to be in moderation and tasteful. I made a note to keep that in mind when I picked up some. I then took a deep breath and tried my best to center myself and then I dove right in. As expected Wal-Mart was crowned. But then again it's always crowded, and I had to run. I was very much aware that I had only one hour to pick up everything I needed. And my shopping reached from here to Japan.

My first stop was of course the pharmacy section. I knew in order for my plan to work out, I needed to smell like a girl instead of smelling like a boy who was just dressing up like a girl because he lost a bet. So I knew my normal choice of deodorant was out of the question. I would need a deodorant that a teen girl would use and some body spray too. Maybe a bit of perfume. Next I would need an Alice headband. I planned on wearing my hair down tomorrow and I needed something to keep it out of my eyes. After a few minutes of browsing the wares I settled on a baby blue, pink and white on.

Once those items were in hand, I would rush out, pick up a bra and panty then. Then I'll get the skirt, blouse, stockings and shoes. And then with all that in my shopping cart I would head over to the Self-Checkout lane, bag my stuff and jet right on out. Plus I still needed to pick up something for tonight's dinner while I'm here anyway.

With that in mind I rushed off to the pharmacy section. I did not have much time to debate, and I was lost as an egg. But I knew they liked to smell like a fruit basket or a bouquet of flowers. I also knew they enjoyed smelling fruity scents and flowery smells and that they adored unicorns. And so with only those two solid pieces of information to guide me. I picked out a small bar of deodorant that had a sparkling unicorn plastered on the front of the package and a rainbow in the background. It was supposed to be a strawberry smoothie flavored scent. And for added good measure I picked up a small bottle of cotton candy body spray.

With that in my basket. I rushed toward the make-up section. Blushing I reached down and picked up a small bottle of lip gloss, followed by a tube of mascara. And because I felt it only right I added a small vial of nail polish, also baby blue to match my headband. It seemed right at home to the growling list of things located in my basket. Finally I added some blush and some eye shadow and then I rushed toward the clothing section.

It took me only a few moments to find a pleated navy blue skirt that I liked. The skirt had zipped up pockets and I thought that was the coolest thing in the world and it just screamed schoolgirl, I tossed two packages of white nylon stockings because I was shy about showing my legs. Then I found a white button down blouse that suited me. And then it was onto the next item on my list. How could I ever forget about shoes?

I was just about to head to the shoe section when I stopped and shook my head from one side to the other. I needed something else. If I kept using my mom's and sisters razor they were bound to catch on to something. I would need my own, including my own shaving foam. I paused, and started to think though. Would I really need to spend all my money on all of this? Would I really ever use this stuff again? I mean if I was only going to wear the skirt for one that is over, an one and done deal.

“What if I like dressing up like a girl?” I muttered to myself as I started toward the shoe department. I pretty much knew what kind of shoes I wanted to wear. I wanted to wear the classic schoolgirl shoes. The one that would complete any schoolgirl look. I wanted to wear a pair of Mary-Jane. Why? Because for one they were classic footwear. Two, the completed and complimented the schoolgirl look. And three, they had just enough of a heel to make me feel sexy and alluring without breaking any school dress codes.

Then something happened that I did not expect to happen. Now I know Wal-Mart is not the most trendy place to buy your clothes. That would be the mall. But the mall was four miles away as the crow flies. I felt my cheeks starting to flush red as I looked around the crowded section. Another thought fell into my head. What if somebody noticed me? What if somebody from school saw me with a shopping cart full of make-up and women's clothes? How was I going to explain that to them?

Then another idea fell into my head. Why stop at a skirt? Why not a dress? Yes, I could wear a dress to the weekly Friday Night Magic: The Gathering social. That would really rub David the wrong way. And so I once more went to the clothing section and slowly I started to pick through the racks of clothes till I hopefully found something that would speak to me.

After around fifteen minutes of fruitless search I was ready to give up, and throw my hands into the air and write it off as a lost cause. But then out of the corner of my eye I spotted a dress that just spoke to me. It was yellow, bright yellow. The kind of yellow that reminds you of a field of Sunflowers. If that makes any sense. A warm, late summer time kind of yellow. The dress had a long, ribbon belt that tied around in a bow in the middle of the waist. And I just had to have it.

And so I rushed up, and quickly I turned the price tag over. The tag said it was on 'Roll Back' and that the asking price was fifteen dollars. Without giving it a second thought I placed the dress into my shopping basket. And with that done, I at long last started to head toward the shoe department. I quickly found a nice, sturdy pair of Mary-Jane Style shoes for twenty dollars. And a pair of yellow sandals to go with my newly bought dress.

Another forty dollars... again I had to stop and think, was I going too far? I mean, what is the chance I'll wear these clothes again? Already I guessed I had around a hundred or so dollars worth of clothes and make-up in my wired shopping basket. Would it all be worth it in the end? And how was I going to explain all this stuff to my mom if she ever found it? Would she laugh? Would she cry? Maybe a little of both?

“I guess.” I paused. “I guess I'll find the answer to that riddle when I'm forced to cross that bridge.” I said blushing again as I turned the buggy around.

Then another thought fell into my head. The dress did not have any pockets, but the skirt did. I would need something to carry around my wallet, my phone and my loose collection of change. So, heaving another sigh again I walked over to a rack of purses and I started to look for one. After five minutes, I found one that seemed to suit me to a 'T' or a girl named 'Ashley'. It was a black, faux leather purse in the shape of a corset. It was trimmed in pink and it had an oversized pink letter 'A' sewn onto the front. Of course that 'A' would stand for 'Ashley' and it looked cute enough so into the shopping basket it went.

“Damn this bet is taking a real good bite out of my savings.” I said, sighing as I looked down at the now overflowing cart.

Then another thought fell right into my head? If I really wanted to get into the whole girl's frame of mind. I would need to sleep like one, that would mean my normal set of sleeping clothes, normally white t-shirts and a pair of sleeping pants that were almost threadbare did not really scream femininity to me. No, what I needed to make my plan work was something that just screamed femininity at the top of it's lungs. And for what I needed to head to the sleepwear section.

Fifteen minutes of fruitless searching yielded nothing. All the nightgowns looked like something a little kid would wear or something my grandmother would wear. But then again this was Wal-Mart so picking would be slim. Then I spotted it, a pink, long sleeve nightgown that was trimmed with lace at the sleeves and at the bottom. Without thinking I picked it up and tossed it into the shopping cart.

With that done, I declared that I had enough clothes to get me started. Started on what? I had no idea. I figured at the time once this silly bet was over with and done for I could wash them and drop them off at the R.A.G. Donation box they had set up beside the school. After all, somebody might need them and it would be a shame just to throw them away. I mean I could keep them after all, but then I would be running the risk of mom discovering them. And that would open a totally new can of worms. A can of worms I was not prepared for.

Anyway I had one last stop to make, so taking a deep breath I started to guide my shopping cart toward the grocery section of the store. Once there I picked up a gallon of milk, a dozen brown eggs, a roasted lemon pepper flavored chicken from the deli, a package of brown n' serve rolls from the bread section, and last but not least a gallon of sweet tea from the dairy section. Tonight's dinner if you will. Save mom some trouble and hopefully keep her off my back for a bit. Oh and on my way out I picked a small, plastic container of Mustard Potato Salad from the deli case. Then it was time to run through the checkout line.

To save myself some trouble, and some odd looks I decided to go through the self check-out machine, and to save the paper trail. I paid with cash. The last thing I wanted to do was leave a paper trail behind me.
Once all my stuff was paid for I rushed out into the parking lot. And true to his word, the guy from the taxi place was there waiting for me. He said nothing, not a word though he did help me put my stuff into the trunk of his taxi and he did help me unload it when we got back to my house. Beside the personal stuff.

Once that was done. The guy or should I call him Mr. Maurice smiled and shook my hand me a small business card.

“That is my personal phone number and my home address. Listen Ashley, I know something is different about you. And I'm fine with that. But my coworkers are a rough bunch of guys, and they might not take too kindly to somebody like you. If you ever need a ride somewhere, I would feel better if you just called me directly. No matter what day it is, no matter what time it is. Listen kid, there are dozens of bayous, countless miles of swampland, and thousands of sloughs around here. People go missing all the time and end up as gator bait.” Maurice said as he looked around.

I blinked.

“Listen, just be aware, okay. If things look dicey get the hell out of there. Call the police, or call me. Please, people go missing in this town all the time and the police, heck some care and some don't. Hell most people that go missing in this town are either written off as either a crackhead or a troubled teenager trying to escape from a troubled and broken home. Most end up in the Vicksburg City Morgue. And all the city coroner does is call them either a Jane Doe or a John Doe and puts a yellow tag on their big toe and slides them into a vault to await a burial in Potters Field.” Maurice said as he clapped me on the shoulder.

“I don't want to end up like that. So please, be careful okay? Call me if you need a ride, kid.” And with that a very eventful day drew to a close. 

Belle of Vicksburg
-5-
The Debut of Ashley Christina Hull!

I took a deep breath as I pushed past the stone statue of Plato that stood guard at the entrance of Vicksburg High and mentally blocked out the granite monument of the Ten Commandments that could be found a stone's throw away from the statue. Releasing the breath I muttered a prayer to whatever God or Goddess was willing to listen at that very moment. That allowed me to gather my courage and with that I pushed opened the wooden double doors with brass handles. And then throwing my head back and holding it high I waltzed into the hallway.

The moment I walked into the hallway was the moment a hushed silence fell over the gathered crowds. The tumult that filled the hallway a few minutes ago all but stopped. A hushed silence seemed to have settled on the gathered crowds. I was very self aware at that moment. The clicking of my heels echoed down the linoleum coated tile hallway.

“Oh.” Another boy said as he peered at me. He then turned toward his friend and as he pointed toward me he said. “Brother. Who is that new girl?” He asked. His voice sounded lustful.

I smiled and offered him a little wave of my hand as I passed right by him. I was very much aware of how the helm of my skirt switched a little to the left and then a little to the right with each careful step I took. And should a naughty little breeze rise up and flip the thin fabric of my skirt, I took a small measure of comfort in the fact that each passerby would catch a glimpse of my lacy white panties.

Then I noticed something. Some of the other girls just glared at me. It was not the kind of look I wanted either, it was a very hateful look, a look that cut me deep. Some stopped and gave me a sideways glance and others just seemed to scan my outfit. It was like they were checking out, only it was not the checking out I wanted. It's more like they were checking me out for any sign of weakness.

I paused, it was my first real taste of female jealousy and it left a very sour and tart aftertaste in my mouth.

“Look at that little bitch.” I overheard another girl whisper to her friend who was standing almost shoulder to shoulder with her. Her friend was also peering at me. Her eyes seemed cold as ice and her face seemed to be carved from stone. I knew who she was, she was Hannah Lauren Sherman. The self proclaimed queen of the school. As a boy I'd been way off of her radar. But as a girl it seemed I'd taken center stage in her little world. Maybe she saw me as a new rival? Or worse, a new enemy?

“I know right, look at the length of that skirt. I bet she is just a little slut who just wants to draw attention to herself. But who is she?” Her friend, another girl I knew as Jill Tiffany Bowman said in agreement. Jill Tiffany Bowman had been Hannah's faithful lieutenant since kindergarten and most faithful acolyte. She was also the muscle in the murder of crows that always seemed to flock around her.

“You know.” Hannah said, peering toward Tiffany and then back at me. “I heard a rumor that a boy is supposed to wear a skirt to school today.” She glared at me and took a deep breath. “Something about a dumb bet over a game. I don't know what kind of game. I think it was some kind of geek card game.”

“That can't be a 'Boy'. A boy won't go to all that trouble. Look.” She said pointing with her index finger toward my leg. “I bet you a hundred dollars those legs are freshly shaved. And you can smell her perfume from here. She smells like a sweet little Memphis street walker. No way a boy would go through all that trouble.” Tiffany said with a sigh.

“I bet she is a transfer student.” Hannah said as she peered toward Tiffany. “You know it's uncommon for some kids to transfer school when the year is still kind of new. Anyway, Tiffany, I need you to get any and all information you can on that new girl. Her name, home address, what she does after school, what clubs she belongs to, where she banks, and who she banks with. Where she sits at lunch, and who she sits with. Her homeroom, what type of car she drives, if she drives. In short, I want to know everything about her.” Hannah said as she peered at me, her arms folded at her chest.

“Sure.” Tiffany, “I'm on it.” Tiffany paused. “I'll put the word out. I'll put Spider and Fly on it.” She said grinning. “Those two can snoop out anything.”

Great, I'd been Ashley for half an hour already. I had one sworn enemy breathing down the back of my neck. So I must be doing something right. Anyway I rounded the corner of the hallway and then I ran into him. David, who just glared at me.

“Ash?” He said as he peered at me.

“Ashley?” I said as I peered at him. “The name is Ashley Christina Hull.” I said in a proud peacock tone of voice as I flipped my hair over my shoulder and stuck my nose high into the air. I was acting like this was an anime and I'd just introduced myself to one of the boys in class. I was sure he could get a laugh out of it. I was hoping he would get a laugh out of it. Instead it backfired horribly on me.

“What the fuck?” He said as he peered directly into my eyes. “I thought you would stay at home or something!” He then reached over and took me by the wrist. And in a matter of seconds he had me pinned to the wall. “What the fuck is your goal here man?” He said as he drew close to my face.

“I lost the bet man!” I said, taking a deep breath.

“I know, but I never expected you to come to school wearing a damn skirt.” He said, "Peering deeper into my eyes.” You look like a fucking girl. And that is wrong. Shit, it's done with man.” He was so close to me that I could smell the sausage and pancakes from McDonalds he had that morning on his breath.

“This was your idea!” I said, trying to wiggle out of his hold.

“I know this was my fucking idea man! But I did not expect you to take it this damn far!” He muttered under his breath. “This is why the Jocks give us shit man! Because you do dumb shit like this! All you had to do was show up in a fucking skirt, get a few laughs, then change back. Instead you had to come to school looking like a Goddamn transvestite!” David muttered under his breath.

“You have ten seconds to unhand me.” I said, taking a deep breath. “Or else I'm going to smash your balls to little tiny bits.” I said as I closed my eyes and started to pray. I was praying that somewhere, someone would give me the patience not to smash David's nose in. Because I was coming very close to. Being sent to the principal's office for fighting was not how I wanted to end my week and start my weekend. Fighting, even in self defense would result in a Saturday Detention for both of us.

“Whatever you little fucking transvestite!” He muttered. “Just so you know, don't bother sitting with us at lunch. And hell don't even bother hanging out with us in Study Hall. And I better not see you at tonight's Friday Night Magic: The Gathering Social. Hell, I knew there was something really wrong with you when you made that girl character, and she had fucking sex with Georges character.”

“You had had Georges character rape her, you fucking piece of shit for a Game Master!!” I said as I peered deep into his eyes. Looking into his eyes was like looking into the eyes of a Basilisk. Only I did not die or turn into stone. But I did feel my blood starting to boil. I wanted to take my foot at that very moment and really shove it so far up his ass that it would take a doctor to remove it. The truth was starting to dawn on me, our friendship had been false. It was a bitter pill to swallow. But I was forcing myself to swallow it.

“I only did that to teach you a lesson, I told you man, I don't want any girls in my game. Your a fucking sissy.” He said as he leaned close to my face. So close I could count the number of teeth in the maw he called a mouth. At that very moment I wanted to spit right into his mouth. And I would have, but I wanted to wait till I had a cold or maybe the flu or something so I could spat something and green into his maw.

And with that being said he released his hold on me and marched away. Leaving me to rub my wrist. What was going on? The school day had just started and already I'd pissed off two people. I did not have long to think about that, because at that very moment the bell rang. Sighing again I started to rush toward my first period class. Keyboarding that was halfway across the school.

I made it just in time, as I was logging in to my computer the tardy bell rang. My keyboarding teacher was an old gray haired woman named Linda Cox, she only raised an eyebrow when she saw me enter the room. As she took the morning roll she paused and instead of calling me “Mr. Hull'' she called me “Ms. Hull'' and I answered with a demure “Here Ma'am.” After that she paused and closed her roll booklet and pushed her thick coke bottle glasses up the ridge of her nose and in a pleasant tone of voice said.

“Good to see you dressing like a young lady should. I hope the other young ladies in t his class will follow the shining example you have set today. You have struck the perfect balance between demure and alluring.” She praised as she started to explain the lesson for the day.

Never before or since have I prayed that the ground would open up and swallow me whole. But at that very moment I did indeed pray and wished with all my heart that the ground would crack open and a fissure would form under my chair and I would tumble down into the deep recess of the earth never to be heard from again.

Instead I was forced to spend the whole forty minutes of class getting the stink eye from every girl and getting creepy looks from all the boys. Once the bell rang again, signaling the end of class. I was as red as a cherry in the face. Quickly I saved my work, finished a last minute typing drill and then, collecting my books I started to rush toward my second period class. World History.

World History was taught by a kind, old gentleman named Mr. Wicks. Mr. Wicks was so old, he was on armchair terms with God. Mr. Wicks had never married and was a lifelong bachelor. He also enjoyed collecting porcelain clown figurines. His classroom was filled with them. He also sometimes cosplayed for class. And since we were covering World War I right now, he was dressed as an American Doughboy.
Anyway as I walked into his classroom. Mr. Wicks turned his head toward me and shook his head.

“No.” He said pointing toward the door. “I will not be touching you today!”

“Pardon me?” I said as I took my normal seat.

“Mr. Hull.” This had been the first time that morning I had been addressed as 'Mr. Hull' and it was a little jarring. He said that also in a stern bordering on a scolding tone of voice. “I will not be teaching you today, I have heard from your friend, Mr. Lynn, that you and he had a little wager between you two. And that if you lost the wager which you did, you will wear a skirt today. Now I understand that our school has an open policy on these things. That it is almost trendy in this day and age for one to be something or another. And I for one do not approve of that.” He said turning away from me to face the window.

“Pardon me sir?” I asked.

“Maybe I was not clear, allow me to make myself crystal clear. I do not approve of boys dressing as girls. End of the matter, the case is closed. I feel how you are dressed today will be a distraction. How can your classmates give me and their lessons their full attention with you being here today? By being here, you have made yourself the center of attention. Instead of me, being the center of attention and the lesson I'm to give. As a teacher I can not allow that. As a teacher I have a duty to remove any and all distractions from my classroom so my students can give me their full attention.”

I blinked.

“In short, I do not approve of boys dressing up as girls. The matter is settled, the case is closed. I will not teach you today.” Mr. Wicks then walked away from the window, and started toward his desk. He walked behind the old wooden desk, and pulled out a piece of paper. He then placed the paper on the surface of his desk and he then took out a fountain pen and started to jot something down. After a few minutes he finished whatever he was writing, he then folded the paper in half and handed it toward me.

I eyed the piece of paper for a moment. Mr. Wicks blinked and started to wave the paper up and down. I felt my blood starting to boil. Seeing the color red splashed all over the classroom, I reached out and quickly snatched the piece of paper out of its hand, tearing the edges a little in the process. Mr. Wicks, stunned, took a few steps back and peered directly into my eyes. It was like I'd slapped the balding old man right across his cheeks. I wanted too. I wanted to slap him upside his head.

Instead I gave him a demure smile, and went to collect my books and then I started toward the principal's office. Getting summoned to the principal's office was like the least of my worries though. I knew for a fact that I had two people after me. The queen bee of the school and her small band of followers and my now ex-best friend turned sworn enemy David Lynn. As I gathered up my books I heaved a heavy sigh, what else could happen to me today? 

Belle of Vicksburg
-6-
Mrs. Bookkeeper and Counter Attacking.

I took a deep breath as I slowly made my way down the hallway, it seemed to take forever to travel the short distance from Mr. Wick's classroom to the front office. Once I reached the front office. I pushed open the door and slowly approached the secretary that was working the front desk. The middle aged woman looked up from the letter she was typing and peered directly at me.

“Mr. Wicks.” I said, handing the note to her. “Told me to give this to Mrs. Bookkeeper.” I said, shifting my eyes away from her. The woman nodded her head and reached out and took the note from my hand. She then unfolded the note and started to scan it. She then closed the note and nodded her head and vanished behind the corner.

A few tense minutes passed before she appeared again. “Mrs. Bookkeeper will see you now Ms. Hull.” She said as she took her seat again and started to work on her letter. After a few tense moments the sound of her curled up fingers striking the keyboard once more filled the office.

I was dumb struck, I felt like somebody had just taken an iron skillet and smashed it upside my head. It was all I could do just not bolt out the door and run into the hills that surrounded town. What was going to happen to me now? Was I going to told off? Was she going to paddle me? Was she going to lock me in a tiny cell under the school and throw away the key? Would she understand? Would she even listen to me? Or was she about to kick me out of school?

All of these thoughts swirled around my head as I just stood there. I felt like a tree rooted in the ground. Finally the secretary looked up and frowned a little. She then pushed her chair back and stood straight up and in a stern, almost scolding tone of voice she said.

“Ms. Hull. I said that Mrs. Bookkeeper will see you now. It's best if you do not keep her waiting too long.” She said in a tense tone of voice. Then as a kind of barb or a fleeting afterthought she added. “As you know Mrs. Bookkeeper is a very busy woman. And it's very rude of you to keep her waiting.”

I nodded my head. I guess it was time to face the music. Gathering up my courage, I walked behind the desk and started to make my way toward the Mrs. Bookkeeper's office. The office was located at the very back. To get to the office one had to walk down a long hallway, it was a very long hallway. It was like you were walking toward your doom.

Finally I found the door I was looking for. The door was a plain oak door, with a brass doorknob a little to the right and a thin sheet of copper brass screwed into the center. A name was engraved in the thin sheet of copper that read 'Mrs. Bookkeeper' and under it 'Principal'.

Collecting myself I took a deep breath and slowly I started to knock upon the door. A brief moment of silence passed and so I knocked again, a little louder this time, again a brief moment of silence passed. And so I knocked again. The third knock must have been the magic number. Because from within the room I heard a voice call out “Come in. The door's not locked.”

I crossed myself. Something I've seen done countless times in movies and such, no, I'm not Catholic or Episcopal, but I've picked up the habit from watching countless old time movies about the settling of the west. And I guess at that moment it felt right.
A few seconds later, I found myself walking into the office. The office was furnished like your average office. The American flag was standing in one corner and directly across from it was the new state flag of Mississippi. A wooden, mahogany desk stood between them. Tacked across the wall were framed Diplomas. Sitting behind the desk was a woman who appeared to be around thirty.

“Good morning. Mr. Hull.” Mrs. Bookkeeper said as she shuffled a few loose sheets of paper around. She then bundled the papers up and stabled them together and slipped them into her desk. She then took a deep breath. “Or should I address you as Ms. Hull, considering how you are dressed?”

“It doesn't really matter ma'am.” I said as I looked down at the ground. For the second time that morning I prayed that the ground would open up and swallow me whole. And again for the second time that morning nobody bothered to answer my prayers.

“Which one would you prefer?” Mrs. Bookkeeper said as she shuffled a few more loose sheets of paper around and once more she bundled the papers up and stabled them together before slipping them into her desk. I really wished she would stop shuffling her papers and look me in the eyes.

“I guess..” I said, taking a deep breath. “Ms. Hull suits me just fine.” I said, taking a deep breath.

“Full name?” Mrs. Bookkeeper said as she put away her stabler and turned toward her computer.

“Ashley Christina Hull.” I said, taking a deep breath as I once more looked down.

“A very good name. Did you think of it on your own?” Mrs. Bookkeeper said as she typed something on her computer. She then shifted her gaze toward me and for a moment I wanted to duck down. I swear if looks could kill I would have been dead in a matter of moments.

“Yes ma'am.” I said meekly.

“Well.. Ms. Hull, here is what we're going to do.” She said, smiling sweetly. “I will be taking you out of Mr. Wick's class and placing you in Mrs. Anderson's second period. Count your lucky stars we have more than one World History teacher here at Vicksburg High. Mrs. Anderson's a bit on the liberal side. She is also a bit younger than Mr. Wick's and not as set in her ways as he is. That should solve one of your problems.”

I blinked and blinked again.

“Thank you ma'am!” I said starting to blush.

“Don't thank me yet. Now, I would strongly suggest you make a point to go see our school counselor. In fact I'll make an appointment with her. She is off today, so the earliest time you can see her will be Monday afternoon.” Mrs. Bookkeeper said in a stern tone of voice. “And before you ask, yes I am aware you made a bet with David Lynn. Had you shown up in my office looking like a boy who just put on a skirt for a bucket of giggles. I promise you, right now you would have been bent over this desk and you would have been given a good twelve licks with the paddle.” She added.

I felt my blood run cold.

“But you put effort into your look. And for that I decided to give you a pass.” Mrs. Bookkeeper said as she peered across the desk at me. “But I'm warning you Ms. Hull. Just because I'm giving you a pass. Does not mean you should abuse it. This is very much a Republican run state. What I’m doing is giving you a chance to sort things out the best I can and afford you the fullest measure of protection I can.” Mrs. Bookkeeper said in a stern tone of voice.
“Yes ma’am.” I added.
“So this ‘Pass’ does not mean you should abuse it. Or flaunt the rules. This is a very rigid state we live in and our current governor has made his stance on people like you very clear. In fact, I would go as far to say that I believe he’s set Mississippi back at least fifty or so years in social progress.” Mrs. Bookkeeper said as she leaned back in her chair and peered upward into the air. 
“In short, I want you to give Mrs. Anderson the respect she deserves and do your best to help her, help you get to the bottom of this. Do you catch my drift young lady? 
“Yes ma'am.” I said, taking a deep breath.

“I will be blunt with you.” Mrs. Bookkeeper said as she stood up and walked from behind the desk. “I was expecting to see a boy in a skirt and not a demure looking young lady. I'm going to assume there is something ticking in that head of yours. Make no mistake, you are breaking at least a dozen school rules right now, you are in clear violation of the school dress code. But I'm going to assume you are questioning your gender right now. I think the word I'm looking for is 'Gender dysphoria.' I'm going to assume that is it. That is why I want you to see Mrs. Anderson as soon as possible. If it's a legit case of gender dysphoria then we will work on making the proper changes. If not. Then you will have a one on one meeting with the 'Board of Education' do I make myself clear?” She said as she peered into my eyes.

“Yes ma'am.” I muttered under my breath.

“Good. Now get to class. I have other matters to attend to.” She said and with that she dismissed me. I nodded my head, stood up and made my way toward the door. I was just about to wrap my fingers around the brass door handle when Mrs. Bookkeeper called out.

“Also. Ms. Hull, I see your next period of PE. Have you given any thoughts on how Coach Shard will respond to having you show up in his P.E class wearing a blouse, stocking, a skirt and heels?” She asked as she folded her hands on her desk. The look she was giving me could melt through a solid sheet of ice. It made me feel small, smaller than a church mouse.

“No ma'am. I was going to sit out today and take the zero.” I said blushing a little.

“That won't due. I'll tell you what. Go see Coach Adams. She should have a spare P.E Uniform for you to wear, it would be the girl's PE uniform. You can change into that and until we know for certain what is rolling around in that head of yours. I'm afraid we'll just have to keep you in the boy's P.E class.” Mrs. Bookkeeper paused and then leaned back on her desk.

“Oh what a barrel of fish you have gotten yourself into.” She said, “Yes, I'm afraid that I will just have to do. You will have to take the boy's P.E Class for the rest of the year or until we know something. And You will have to wear the girl's P.E uniform.. consider this your punishment.. Anyway, I have other business to tend to.”

At that very moment I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. But instead I stood up. Smiled and walked out of the office. I could feel my skirt starting to swish around. I started to notice how the fabric hugged my legs. And as I left the office, I noticed the boys started to look at me. Well I'd noticed them looking at me before, but this time their eyes lingered.

“I told you dude. That new girl is a looker.” One of the boys said as he pointed toward me.

“Right. But you heard Cadet Sergeant Lynn. That new girl is supposed to be a transvestite” The other guy said.

“Man fuck that guy.” The other boy said. “I really wish Sergeant Gunner would demote him. The dude is unhinged. I mean it, I heard he once dropped a guy because he had to drop out of formation to take a squat. Thing is, Sergeant Gunner said it was fine. But the dude went total ape shit on him.”

“I heard the only reason he's in JROTC anyway is to keep the Jocks off his back. I heard some people give him grief because he plays some kind of card game or something. But man, really the guy is unhinged. Like in the second period, I heard him promising some kid that he'll make him a corporal if he smashes all that girl's front teeth in. Dude really unhinged right now.”

I blinked and blinked again. I took a deep breath and slowly I turned to face the two guys. I then put on my best southern belle air. Quickly I flashed both boys a sweet smile and then I walked up to them.

“Pardon gentleman?” I said trying my best to sound lost, frightened and scared. “But I couldn't help but hear you two talking about a Mr. Lynn, and how he wishes to do me harm?” I peered into each of their eyes and smiled. And much to my utter amusement they started to blush and their ears started to turn a bright red.

“Yes?” The first one spoke. I knew enough about the JROTC program to tell the two golden chevron's sewn onto his shoulders denoted him as an cadet corporal and his friend was the same rank. “We heard it from somebody, one of the Freshmen. He was promised a fast promotion if he jumped you after school.” He shuttered out.

“Oh mercy me.” I said, sighing. “It's only my first day here and already I have a brute of a man making trouble for me. Gentleman, would you please accompany me to  the instructor of your JROTC program. Since you heard the remark, then you can help me.” I then reached over and took both their hands into mine and pulled them closer.

“Please, As a Gentleman of the South. As sons of the South. You must, by your sacred honor, and the oaths you have taken. As gentlemen, first and foremost report this matter or at the very least accompany me to report this cruel man.” I said in a pleading tone of voice. For a moment I thought of myself taking on the role of Scarlett O'Hara. Lord Knows I've read Gone with the Wind more than my fair share of times. Maybe that is why I could slip into the persona of a southern belle so easy.

“Yes,” one of the cadets said as he bowed his head.

“Cadet Robert Woodlift at service.” Robert said as he straightened his back up and heck he even snapped to attention. And my friend, Batman Cadet John Whitman.” Robert said as he introduced me to the guy standing beside him.

“A pleasure ma'am.” John Whitman said as he liked his friend offered a little bow before snapping his heels to attention.

I wanted to laugh, I wanted to cry, I wanted to get snarky as hell with the two. But instead, I smiled and offered them both a curtsy, a little old fashion? Yes. A little out of date? Yes? But then again Mississippi is a generation and a half behind the rest of the damn union. So what of it?

“Shall we gentleman?” I said as I stood and motioned for them to lead the way. You see, there were two things David cherished more than anything else in this world. The first one was his stash or should I say collection of Hentai DVD's he brought using a fake ID from the FYE at the mall using a fake ID and the second was the 'rank' he held in the JROTC program. I was about to take the second one away from him. No doubt once the instructor found out about his little comments. He'll be swiftly demoted to the lowest rank possible and stripped of all his hard earned honors and decorations. Now, as a guy I would have never done this. But as a girl it just seemed right. Like the worst revenge possible seemed like the best possible one. And with that I started toward the JROTC building. PE could wait. I had personal matters to tend too.