I looked at her from the corner of my eye, she was definitely flustered but I could care less, she was their mother and the behavior of her children were her own concern...my problem was that they were most likely going to distract me with their constant banter and shenanigans throughout the entire church service.

“Beautiful,” I involuntarily whisper as I watch the image on my screen, grateful that my microphone is on mute and that none of the other teenagers — the other girls — on the call can hear me. And in fairness, the images I’m seeing ARE beautiful.

The 15-year-old girl looks effortlessly elegant as she glides across the floor in her pink tutu. Even her pink face mask doesn’t detract from the illusion that she is the perfect image of a ballerina — although the badge stuck to the tutu that says ’15 today’ does a little.

The next morning at the breakfast table a freshly grounded Tracie was almost shouting. "If I was a boy, I wouldn't be grounded, and we wouldn't even be having this discussion right now!”

Speaking through his teeth, Tracie's dad spat, "You ARE a boy!"

"No. No, she's not."

It was spoken quietly, almost unheard, but it had a force behind it that shut everyone up.

Corinne looked at her husband, "Face it, honey, she's not a boy and hasn’t been for a long time, if ever, really." He sat back down and put his forehead in his hands, staring at his plate.

This is an unauthorized continuation of Jeremy Chandler’s, “My Summer in Pantyhose,” last added to by Jeremy 04/07/2023. The story line and characters belong to Jeremy Chandler and are used without express permission. What follows is intended as fan fiction with the greatest of admiration for Jeremy and appreciation for the original work.

I have to keep myself from smiling as I touch up my lipstick, before liberally coating my long brown hair with shiny hairspray. Once my look is complete, I stand up from my dresser and examine myself in my bedroom’s full-length mirror.

This story was inspired by Teek’s story by the same name.

Timmy was sitting on the school bus on his way to his Middle School. Next to him, Betty, his bestest friend in the whole world was prattling about her afternoon tryout for the cheerleading squad. Timmy wasn’t really listening. Timmy was no Tiny Tim. If not exactly bigger than all the other boys in his class, he was taller than most. And if he was lean what was there was mostly bones, sinews and muscles. He very much resembled his father and grandfather at his age. Grandfather had played pro football. Unfortunately he had to retire due to injuries after one season. Timmy’s father had been the big football hero in the high school Timmy was to attend in a few years. The father had gone on to play college football, though only for one year.

Admin Note: This story was originally published on Monday December 2, 2016 at 11:18:34 am. This story has a slight sardonic twist in the second chapter that plays out into the third that I think most readers will pick up on. Leila is never a straight writer so be prepared for the twist. ~ Sephrena.