If this is going to work, then perhaps you should call me Donna.

"David? No, Donna, right?"

"Hey, Sarah. You like?" I struck a pose with one hand in my hair and the other at my hip. There might have been a hip cock as well.

"You look awesome. About all that's missing are some earrings and other jewelry."

"No earrings, but other jewelry might be a good idea."

Sarah just looked at me and then busted out laughing, "You sure you're not a girl?"

"No." I said quietly. I looked at my mom and then looked at her. Sarah got the hint. "Mama, we're going to be in Donna's room for a while."

She grabbed me by the hand and practically dragged me inside. I started giggling and she couldn't help it and joined in. We turned on some Shinedown and shut the door. Sure, it's a little older, but I like it.

"What's up, girl friend?"

"Well, Dr. Funk mentioned that he thinks I might be transgender."

"Dr. Funk? Transgender?"

Somehow in the past couple of days I'd failed to tell her what the MAO Teen committee had told me. I filled her in on it all, and then offered her something that I thought she'd jump at. After all, she'd been set on being in the pageant this year.

"I'll sit out and ignore whatever scrutiny might come my way if you still want to do it this year."

"And miss out on doing this with my best friend in the world? Not on your life, Donna. Sure, I want to do the pageant. I want to be able to say I did, but if I'm doing it alone it's not really worth it. I want to have the memories to share of this time for a long life in the future. And you know, if you ever start being interested in girls…"

"Sarah…"

"Look, it's okay if you like boys. And it's even okay if you're really a girl, although I'm not sure about being a lesbian myself. What I'm trying to say is I like you. I mean I like you like you."

"Sarah, I'm flattered, I really am…"

"But I know, you're asexual. I get it. No pressure. But, if you do end up liking girls, let me have a shot?"

I kissed her on the cheek. Just a chaste little kiss, but she smiled at me like I'd given her a precious gift.

"I'll keep you in mind, Sarah," I said with a little smile.

"So, you think you might be a girl?"

"I have no fu…I mean I have no clue. What does it mean to be a girl?"

"I'd say something simple like wearing dresses and liking babies and some such, but that can't be it, right? Behaviors don't define who you are as a person."

"Yeah, since there are girls who wear pants, and dislike children. And I know men who love children."

"We're not talking about pedophiles here."

"Ew, that's gross, Sarah."

We giggled a little, but it was weak. I thought of the woman I'd met today. She was borderline creepy. Thinking back on it I sort of got a skeevy vibe off her.

"So, wearing makeup is out, since a lot of women don't."

"And there is no unity in appearance either. Long hair, short hair, and everything in between."

"The ability to have babies?" Sarah said.

"That can't be it either. Mrs. Parsons in the art department can't have children. She and her husband just adopted their third."

"Sexuality isn't any real tell, either."

We went back and forth, trying to determine what makes someone a woman, and what makes someone a man. In the end we were baffled. We were only fifteen after all. Teenagers only think that they know everything.

Eventually we stopped trying to figure it out on our own and started taking online tests. We ended up laughing at most of the results, especially on those times when Sarah scored 'more masculine' than I did. Eventually, thought, we slipped on over to Scholar.google.com and did some real research.

Our teachers had started requiring us to do research online using this, as it actually links to sites that live up to peer review, or something. It did give us a lot of information about Transgender and the whole Male/Female question while avoiding all of the porn sites I'm sure would come up in the traditional search engines if you toss any sexually charged words in them.

We came down to one single realization after that entire night.

"So, basically, if we really want to see where we are we need a psychological professional to administer a real test."

"Yes, that's it in one, Donna."

"That sucks. I'm not sure I really want to go to those lengths."

"But you saw the information. If you really are transgender, then you need some help. You and Mama can't do this on your own."

"Ok, fine. I'll talk to a specialist." I said with a little smile.

"Didn't you say the guy that came over was Dr. Funk?"

"Yeah, Dr. James Funk, although…"

"He's a psychologist."

"What?" I just about shouted.

"Yeah, see here. This is a paper written by him, 'The rising incidence of recognition of transgender children and consequences of the failure of institutional acceptance.'"

"No wonder. I guess he thinks all little boys who want to wear a dress must be transgender. It's his job after all."

"Come on, Donna. That just makes him more qualified not less to recognize the signs."

"Maybe," I said, not convinced.

"Come on," Sarah said, "let's do something fun."

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"Sarah, when you suggested we do something fun, this really isn't what I had in mind."

"You're not having any fun?" Sara said with a pout.

"Look, I may possibly be a girl, but that doesn't mean I'm girly." I said in a serious tone, and Sarah busted up.

"What?"

"Look at yourself in the mirror and say that."

I turned and really looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't even need to speak, I could see what she meant. We'd been playing with makeup for the past hour or so. No, I wasn't under her tender mercies; we were both actually putting it on and taking it off. I'd just been thinking of my face like a three dimensional canvas and using my artist's skill to apply just the lightest touches of makeup, building up like I would any shading with pencils or charcoal.

It was subtle, but it was there. And I looked...like a girly girl.

"Fine, I'll admit I'm having fun. It's like art...on my face."

"I wish I was half as good, and I've been working at it for longer."

"We've had to do 'glamour portraits' in my composition class recently. I wasn't going to let my position in the top of the class go just because I was a boy."

"Or girl..."

"Whatever," I said, but I was blushing a bit.

"Fine, do my makeup."

She cleaned her latest attempt on her face. When she was done, I went to town.

There may be some confusion at this point, especially as there is usually a disconnect in people's minds between subtle and glamour where it comes to makeup.

You're probably thinking of the photography where someone has to get made up like a clown to even appear to wear makeup. Photography improves with time, but there is nothing a camera has that the eye doesn't do better.

Painting is a lot different than photography.

Especially when you are presented with a model wearing no makeup whatsoever and told to make her look like she's wearing makeup in your painting.

It was supposed to teach us shading and color matching and a bunch of other things like that. The thing is, makeup is more than just shading and color matching. There is an artistry all it's own that defines a number of different 'looks'. Sometimes even contrasting colors are what you want.

Yes, I spent a lot of time out of school researching and sketching to try and get it all down.

Working on your own face in a mirror is tougher than I thought, at first, and it took me a while to get used to the medium; makeup doesn't flow like paint or draw like pencil; It's somewhere in-between.

After all the practical experience I'd just gotten it only took a couple of tries before I had her looking the way I expected.

She looked into the mirror and her eyes grew wide, "I'm...beautiful."

I turned her to look at me and looked her directly in the eyes, "You've always been beautiful, Sarah."

The smile slowly faded and she shook her head, "I'm pretty. I know I am, but I've never been beautiful. I wanted to be in the pageant so I could feel beautiful."

"So, does that mean..."

"That we're not doing the pageant? Of course not, silly boy. Now we have more reason than ever."

"We do?" I said with a questioning look on my face.

"Yes, because, girl friend, we're going to win this thing," she said with on of the most evil grins I'd ever seen on her face. The red lipstick only seemed to make it that much worse.

I resigned myself with a sigh and then nodded my head, "Okay."

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We were giggling at the bar counter in the kitchen when Mama came in.

"My, don't you ladies look lovely."

"Mama!" I said, but Sarah just said, "Thank you."

"Donna, if you wanted to be taken for a boy, I would suggest changing and taking off the makeup."

I sat there stunned for a moment. I was still in the sundress from earlier, and now that I thought of it I could feel the makeup still on my face. I'd even forgotten all about the bra with its inserts.

"We were just..."

"Playing with makeup? Yes, I see that."

"It's not David's fault, Mama. I wanted to have some fun with some makeup and he went along."

"No, it's alright, Sarah. I willingly did it. Mama, am I feminine?"

"What makes you ask that?"

"Did you know Dr. Funk was a psychologist who specializes in gender stuff?"

"I did know he was a psychologist, but how do you know?"

"Well, we were researching transgender..ism? and we found his name on an article about it."

"What do you think, Mama. Do you think that David is more boy or girl?"

"I really don't know."

"Thanks, Mama, that really helps me a lot," I responded as sarcastically as I could.

"I'm sorry, honey, but it's the best answer I have for you. I'd love to have a daughter just as much as I love to have a son. Although right now you look a lot more like my daughter than my son."

I just glared at her.

"I'm sorry," she said laughing, "but when you look like that I can't help it."

I glared harder at her when Sarah looked at me and started giggling as well.

"You do look silly like that, David."

I just silently left and went to the bathroom to completely clean off all the makeup. Then I put on some jeans and a tee-shirt and went back downstairs.

The rest of the day was a little strained, but I did my best to push through.

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Doing a year's worth of core classes in three months is time consuming. Not as time consuming as actually going to classes, as I was able to go at my own pace, but it took a lot of the time I'd normally have spent painting or swimming with Sarah or just hanging out like I normally did during the summer.

Before I really knew it, I was starting school again, and this time I really had a heavy course load. AP Studio-Art was like a college course. Most of the coursework had to be finished outside of class. That meant that once I got home, I really started to do my work on the class.

Sarah would hang out in my room and talk to me as I worked. She got the opportunity to be my model a lot that year. While I worked, I really started listening to how she talked and what she talked about. I was studying for the next summer, if that ever actually came to anything. We occasionally talked about the pageant, but I never dressed up again.

Two days before Christmas Dr. Funk visited us again.

"So, David, are you still interested in being in the pageant?"

"Sarah is, so yes, I would like to be in it with her."

"We've finally finished deliberating. I fought long and hard for you. I know you don't consider yourself transgender, but you would be perfect to represent those who are..."

"I thought you didn't want anyone to know."

"That's part of the test. If people don't know, and can't tell, then we should be able to allow transgender teens into the contest."

"That's what you really want, isn't it Dr. Funk? To open up the contest..."

"I want us to let any girl compete in the contest. Right now, there are a lot of people who feel that it is only a place for 'normal heterosexual girls'. This isn't some institution of dictating who is or is not really a girl. We need to be inclusive."

"Oh...and you want me to fight this battle for you?"

"Yes, I do. Only if you feel up to it. I want you to try your best..."

"You mean they actually said yes?"

"Yes, they did. Donna Lowell is officially the first applicant for next year's MAO Teen pageant."

There was this feeling in me that had to escape and I just squealed a little bit.

"I'll not be a judge, but I'll be there at the pageant to keep an eye on you. I hope to see you and your friend in July."

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Sarah and I were standing in the halls talking about the pageant the next week at school. Sarah'd been out of town visiting family so we really hadn't had an opportunity before this.

"What am I going to do for a talent? All I know how to do well is painting. I can't cram that into two minutes."

"You can always sing..."

"No, no way. I'm not going to sing. You know I sound like..."

"A girl? I don't think that will be a problem, David."

I heard a deep voice behind me, "Hey, Faggot, you talking about entering some talent contest as a girl?"

"Hey, Brad, is that a proposition or an observation?"

I was glaring at him. Brad was the resident small minded bully at our school. Generally speaking he never entered the Art department so I could avoid him. I think he was afraid of the 'gay' rubbing off on him.

"What did you say to me?"

"I asked if you were propositioning me or merely making an observation."

"What does prop..."

I almost laughed in his face right there, as it was I was struggling not to smile.

"What he was asking, Brad, is if you were asking him out on a date, or just acknowledging that he was something."

"I never..."

"Well, then you'll excuse me if I tell you that I'm not gay. Sorry to disappoint you." I patted him on the arm as I walked by. Sarah giggled and walked in the other direction.

I heard his yell behind me and was turning to see what was up now when I felt him crash into me. My head hit the concrete wall and I saw stars for a moment before everything went black. I heard someone screaming for a moment or two and then that went away as well.