Blackmailing Biscuit
Chapter 4 of 4

© 2013 D.L.

Miss Carter, one of the English teachers, was stood blocking entry to the room. The glass window in the door, which usually allowed a view inside, was covered by a sheet of flip-pad paper.

“Ah, Biscuit, you may go in. The rest of you stay outside. Please stand back and don’t try to sneak a look unless you want to join the others in detention.”

Following the teacher’s instructions l cautiously entered the room in trepidation as to what might be inside. Given the nature of Miss Carters reaction, I suspected I wouldn’t like what I am about to find.

I don’t see anything immediately obvious in the room. Steve and Fred are sat at desks looking extremely nervous. Jessica is standing with her arms crossed looking very annoyed. Mr Jones is sat at his desk waiting. Before he had a chance to explain, Mr Faraday arrived and asked, “What is going on here?”

“Jessica found these two messing with the projector,” Mr Jones responded. Each of our classrooms is fitted with a digital projector. These are used in class when a video is needed. A live video feed can also be relayed from the media classroom over the network. Mr Jones flicked the switch to power on the device. These particular models take a few seconds to boot up, during which they output plain white light. Instead of the expected white rectangle appearing on the wall, an image of me in the party dress is rendered. To make sure that there is no mistake; my name is displayed above my head with an arrow pointing down. Underneath are the words “Cross dressing Genderqueer”.

“A small piece of film has been stuck on the lens,” Mr Jones explained. “Jessica is here because she saw what happened and also because she inexplicably seems to know about the blackmail threats.”

I turned to Mr Faraday, "Jessica knows about the blackmail because l told her. I hadn’t intended to, but while we were getting dressed Stacy let slip by saying that she was surprised that it was P.E. that caused me to out myself and not the blackmail. As l had already told them about being transgendered, I explained the situation.”

Jessica seemed to relax as I confirmed her story. Fred and Steve seemed surprised that I had already come out. I guess they hadn't heard, otherwise they would have known their prank was already redundant. The two teachers then started to interrogate the two boys. However, they refused to say anything, opting instead to remain silent.

I suspected, and I think the teachers did as well, that one of the other councillor candidates might have conspired with them. The other candidates are Robert, Scotty and Stephanie. Given Robert’s home situation and general acceptance of alternative lifestyles, I very much doubted his involvement considering the homophobic nature of the threats.

On the other hand, Steve is best friends with Scotty, and Fred is dating Stephanie (at least this week, their relationship runs very hot and cold).

The two teachers were tag teaming the boys, pointing out just how much trouble they were potentially in. This didn't seem to be helping the situation.

"First, you make threats causing Nathan a great deal of stress and worry. Secondly you tried to manipulate a democratic election by forcing out one of the candidates. Then you sabotage school equipment, which could have potentially caused untold damage, which alone is enough to at least warrant suspension. Finally you choose to use deeply offensive comments to publicly humiliate a fellow student," Mr Jones declared.

I could see that the teachers’ analysis of the situation was deliberately emphasising the seriousness of the supposed crimes, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised that the situation was exaggerated. I couldn't help starting to laugh at the situation.

"I'm sorry," I said when I finally regained my composure, "I can fully understand the seriousness of the blackmail and damage of the projector, but as much as I know I probably should be, I don't find that image on screen offensive. Cross dressing Genderqueer? Really? Is that the best you can come up with? I normally come to school as a boy, yet I'm standing here in a classic schoolgirl uniform. I think that counts as being cross-dressed, although technically I could argue I'm cross-dressed when wearing trousers. However, since I usually present myself as a boy in school, I'm not disputing that definition. While 'queer' by itself can be considered offensive, I've seen 'genderqueer' in serious literature as a term that some people used to classify themselves. I consider transgendered a more appropriate term for me than genderqueer, but I'm not overly bothered by that slight inaccuracy."

I looked at the two sheepish individuals sitting in front of me. "You were counting on that, weren't you? You've deliberately picked the lamest possible insults you could have come up with. It’s not difficult to come up with something better. Freak, pervert, sissy, faggot, cocksucker, tranny, transvestite: any of those terms would have worked better. Just throwing in some swearing to emphasis the point would have been an improvement. It's as if you're trying to go out of your way not to upset me, which begs the question, why the hell are you doing this in the first place?"

"Did someone coerce you into this?" Mr Faraday asked, "Because it seems to me that you didn't want to cause offence, yet you still went ahead with it."

"We didn't want to hurt you," Steve admitted with a sigh, "we just wanted you to admit what most of us suspected anyway, that you're a girl."

"When we got the picture, we weren't actually surprised. It actually made sense when we saw it," Fred added. "You're a bit introverted when any of us lads talk to you, yet get you in amongst a bunch of girls, and after a few minutes you lose your self conscious and go all girly. It's actually quite amusing to watch as you gush over the latest fashion mags, making the rest of the girls look practically masculine in comparison."

"I do not gush," I stated firmly. "I admit I sometimes let my guard down, which I'm usually very cautious about, but I don't go that girly. You're exaggerating."

"Yeah, right," Steve replied sarcastically, "if anything Fred's understating it. You're definitely the most effeminate boy in the school, mannerism wise, and if the choice of dress in the photo is anything to go by, your fashion sense is more filly than any other girl I know. I suppose next you'll be denying that the underwear you're wearing isn't lacy."

"In case you hadn't noticed, this is supposed to be a costume," I countered. "St. Trinians girls are known for their sexy undergarments. I am wearing what is befitting for the character."

"So you are wearing lacy knickers then," Steve said, grinning at the confirmation. I hadn't realised that he was only guessing. "You could have made do with plain white panties, it's not as if we would have seen them. You've managed to keep them well hidden, despite many of us trying to sneak glances. I guess it proves you have experience of being in a skirt."

"If I hadn't of been invited into the girl's changing room, you would have got a good glimpse of them when I undressed for P.E. I figured if I was going to make a fool of myself, I would give everybody a good laugh in the process by going all the way."

"There is going all the way, and then taking it to extremes," Fred countered. "None of the rugby team have had hair extensions put in. I notice that the ends of your hair is damp, so I assume that you're not wearing a wig, otherwise you would have taken it off to shower. Several of the lads had bets going as to if you would turn up in a dress, and if so, how far you would go. Robert bet that you would take the opportunity to be yourself for once, which is why he decided to take a risk and dress as a fairy in support. Scotty was convinced you'd never dare."

"Under normal circumstances, Scotty would have been right," I admitted. "I only came dressed like this due to the notes you sent. There was no way I would ever give into blackmail."

"We know," Steve answered. "In fact we were counting on it. We never expected you to pull out, and are glad you didn't. The reason why you're the favourite to win is because everyone knows that once you've decided something you see it through. Part of the job is to represent the class, and if you can't even stand up for yourself, then how could you possibly stand up for all of us? If you pulled out, then you wouldn't have been fit for the position anyway. As it is, you've got our vote, assuming we still can."

"This was never about the election," Fred added, "that was only an excuse. The aim was to get you to open up so you didn't keep trying to hide in your shell. You're always so gloomy when trying to force yourself to be masculine. It’s depressing. We figured that you would be a lot happier if you could just be yourself. We deliberately made the image here as friendly as possible, and tried to keep the caption as accurate and inoffensive as we could. We were hoping that with the evidence on screen we would be able to directly ask the question 'Are you transgendered?' and that you wouldn't then try and deny it. Unfortunately it seems that you have managed to out yourself already rendering all our efforts pointless anyway."

"You succeeded, just not in the way you imagined," Mr Faraday reasoned. "Emily has already stated that she wouldn't have come as herself if you didn't send the notes, and the girl's wouldn't have had a reason to invite her into the changing rooms if she was dressed as a boy. While your intentions may have been honourable, your methods are certainly not. You could have asked Emily in private about the photo in a less confrontational manner that wouldn't have caused several days of torment over whether she was going to get exposed or not. Not only that, by blowing her cover, you have potentially exposed her to possible danger from anyone not sympathetic to her condition."

"Like who?" Fred asked. "Everybody suspected she was a girl anyway. Rumours have been going round for months, yet no-one has had anything negative to say on the subject, certainly none of the boys, and we've been quietly collecting their options for the past couple of weeks. Stephany has been doing the same amongst the girls where she can. I think the only people not to have been asked are Biscuit, obviously, and Natasha. She is the only person not likely to accept the situation, but even then I don't think she would be problem if everybody else gave their support. She hasn't said anything nasty about Robert's parents."

"So Stephany is involved in this conspiracy as well then?" Mr Faraday said picking up on Fred's admission. "Jessica, has Emily's situation been discussed? Who suggested she should join you in the changing room?"

"Stephany asked me a couple of days ago if I thought Biscuit was more girl than boy. Given the increased focus on diversity and acceptance in recent weeks there has been some speculation that the school has been preparing for some form of announcement. Given that we already have some openly gay students, some of us were thinking that there may be a transgendered student either present, or about to attend."

"So you thought of me?" I asked. "I thought I was doing a good job of hiding it."

Jessica laughed before replying, "Yeah, right. I think the boys are right about you 'gushing' isn't far off. We ruled out the possibility of one of the existing students undergoing a real life test given that everybody undresses for P.E., at least in our year group. Also, there hasn't been any talk of a new student transferring in, and we wouldn't normally expect that to happen mid-term anyway. That leaves the possibility of someone about to transition. Your name came up as a possibility and things started to fit."

"I wasn't intending to transition, at least not until the sixth form, but given today's events, I'm going to do so anyway," I clarified.

"As to who suggested Biscuit join us, that was Katie. She thought it would be a laugh given how you were dressed."

"Great, so I'm the laughing stock of the…," I started to say but was interrupted by Jessica.

"No! That is not the case. We realised if our suspicions were correct that you would be uncomfortable in with the boys, even more so today with what we guessed you must be wearing underneath your skirt. We weren't making fun of you by inviting you to our line. While we didn't know if you would accept our offer or not, we fully expected Mrs Phelps to intervene and prevent you from joining anyway, at which point we planned to petition for you to use the staff cubicle, as we knew you would never think to ask yourself."

At this point it was Mr Faraday's turn to laugh at my shocked expression. "I offered Emily that option months ago. It was only today that she finally decided it was time to take me up on that offer. I could have forced the issue by banning her from the boys’ facilities, but I didn't want to out her, and nobody has complained about her presence."

We were interrupted by the sound of the bell signalling the end of the lunch. Miss Carter’s voice could be heard through the door calling for the students now assembling in the corridor for registration to settle down and form an orderly line.

Turning to me, Mr Faraday asked, "You okay with everyone seeing this image? I think it might be a good idea to bring the rest of the class in here."

I told him to go ahead and he went to the door. After dismissing Miss Carter so that she could go to see to her own class, he instructed the other students to enter but remain silent. I watched closely as everybody entered. A few seemed surprised by the image on screen. Most expressions I couldn't read, but I did notice a couple of worried glances and unfortunately for the persons involved, Mr Jones also seemed to observe the same thing.

"I'm sure most if not all of you know of the events of the last lesson," Mr Faraday stated to the class, "However, for any of the boys who weren't there and may not yet have heard through the grapevine, I will state that Nathan Bridges, with the full support of the school administration, and with formal backing from qualified medical professionals, has been diagnosed as being transgendered and will from now on be attending this school as a girl named Emily. I expect everybody to treat her as a girl and with the respect she deserves as both a young woman and fellow student."

The headmaster paused deliberately leaving a silence for emphasis before continuing, "This morning’s events were triggered by an incident of which most of you will be unaware. Over the past few days Emily has been receiving notes demanding that she pull out of the student elections or face being exposed as transgendered. Steve and Fred where found tampering with the projector during the lunch time. Luckily for them Emily doesn't find the image offensive. It wouldn't still be on screen if she did. I am however very disappointed with their behaviour. Steve, Fred, I think you owe Emily an apology."

Both boys openly apologise to me in front of the entire class. I accept their apology as I do believe it to be genuine and not just because they are being forced.

"Now I want you to explain exactly how you came to be in possession of what is a private family photograph of Emily," Mr Faraday instructed.

The two boys exchanged glances. "We found it on the internet," Fred finally answered after a couple of minutes following further prompting by the headmaster. This didn't satisfy Mr Faraday who then began to push for further details on exactly how they came by the photograph. It rapidly became obvious, at least to me and the two teachers who I had already told about the photo's origins, that neither Fred nor Steve knew where the image had come from. This led to the obvious conclusion that someone else had provided it to them. Mr Jones beckoned Mr Faraday to one side and showed him a note he had just scribbled. He had obviously spotted something, and I think it may have been the same thing as I did when everybody came in. Stephanie was one of the two girls who had worried expressions on entering.

"Stephanie," Mr Faraday stated, causing the girl to jump with surprise, "you wouldn't happen to know anything about this photograph would you. You've been asking a lot of questions about Emily over the past couple of weeks."

If looks could kill then the stare that Stephanie gave Fred would be fatal. He visibly shrank at his girlfriend’s expression. The anger at being implicated was apparent and Mr Faraday picked up on this. "Stephanie, if you are in any way involved in this prank, then I suggest you say so now. Both you and Emily are candidates in the student election, and it doesn't look very good if you are implicated in any way with trying to blackmail her to drop out."

"I overheard Stacy calling Nathan Emily a few weeks ago," Stephanie admitted. "A few of us girls had been noticing how effeminate Nathan was becoming, as well as his use of the gender-neutral nickname. Combined with the diversity training we have been undergoing recently, I started to become suspicious. I tried to talk to Stacy, but she completely clammed up and refused to talk about the subject. The fact she refused to say anything at all rather than simply denying it made me think it was more likely to be true. I've talked to most of the girls individually to find out if they think the same thing and what the implications of Nathans possible transition might be. I didn't bother talking to any of his other close friends after talking with Stacy, and I didn't bother speaking to Natasha as I thought her reaction would be obvious."

Natasha started giggling at Stephanie’s statement. Pointing to Fred and Steve, Stephanie continued, "I asked these two idiots to find out how many of the boys think she might be trans and if any would cause any trouble if it were true. I also told them not to do anything that could cause trouble for Nathan or interfere with the elections or face being wired up to an electric fence by their bollocks."

Even though I'm a girl, I'm still male, so I winced with the though along with the boys.

"I have no idea how they got hold of that photo or what they were planning on doing with it," she concluded.

"Stephanie had nothing to do with it," Fred quickly jumped in to defend his girlfriend. He looked across at Steve with a pleading look on his face.

Steve sighed and pulled out a piece of paper from his bag. "Mr Faraday, this note will explain how we came to have the photo and why we did this. You were right earlier about this not being by choice. The other party shown doesn't know about this, and I would appreciate it if she didn't find out."

Mr Faraday took the offered sheet, walked to the edge of the room and carefully unfolded it so that nobody else in the room could get a view of its contents. The look of shock on his face was intriguing. This combined with the very embarrassed look Steve was exhibiting would no doubt fire off some wild theories about just what was going on. I think a number of us worked out that Steve was also being blackmailed, something that was confirmed when the head teacher said, "I can understand you not wanting this to be made public, especially as some might consider this picture depicts a criminal act. Also, unless the person who took this photograph comes forward, I will be referring this matter to the police. While the subject matter may or may not be illegal, the act of taking the photo definitely is."

Mr Faraday hasn't said exactly what Steve is being blackmailed with, but there is only one thing that springs to mind that would logically fit the description. While the photo could show any number of criminal offences, there is only one type of activity that I can think of that would also be illegal to photograph. The image must in some way be sexual in nature. Any photograph in which the subject is below eighteen would be classified as child pornography, which is illegal to take or own.

Taking a post-it note out of his pocket, Mr Faraday noted something down before refolding the blackmail note and putting it into his pocket.

"Does this tell you who did this?" the headmaster asked handing me the slip of paper he wrote on. It contained the URL the boys used to obtain the image.

"It will do once I look up the pass code contained in the link. Everybody who was given access to the site was issued with a unique identifier as part of the URL," I reply. Taking a deep breath I reach into my schoolbag to pull out my mobile phone. Setting it down on the desk I press the on button to boot the smartphone up. "However, I'm not sure I want any of the people who have legitimate access to the photos to end up with a criminal record because of me. I request that you keep the police out of this matter, unless Steve or whoever he was pictured with in a compromising position wants to press charges."

In truth I'm stalling, I recognise the apparently random set of digits and characters. There is only one person with any connection to the people involved in the blackmail, it’s that I just didn't want to accept the possibility that they were involved. I did however memorise their access code.

I focused my attention onto the other person I had noticed when they entered the room. I fixed Stacy in a Paddington hard stare, locking eye contact with my friend. Since she entered the room I had been debating if I should accuse her of being involved. Stacy seemed to have a guilty look about her, and I'm familiar enough with her expressions that I can read her emotional state fairly accurately. On one hand she is the obvious suspect as she is the only student who knew about my dual identity and the existence of the photographs. However, I didn't want to initially consider the possibility that she had broken my trust. I was also acutely aware that our friendship could be damaged by me accusing her if she was innocent. Closely watching her body language while the interrogation of the other students was underway convinced me that she was hiding something. I now have the proof.

While pretending to wait for the website to come up to verify the code, I silently fix my gaze on Stacy subtly letting her know that I know. Stacy was already starting to look exceeding worried and she immediately noticed my expression as we made eye contact and her face became noticeably flushed as she became increasingly uncomfortable under my gaze.

I select the online photo album administration link from the favourites list and scroll down the list of codes displayed, confirming my suspicion. I immediately switch the phone into sleep mode, blanking the screen before anybody can see the results of my search.

I tell Mr Faraday, “I don’t want any police involvement, unless the subjects of the photo particularly want to make complaints. I will speak with the culprit myself. I would rather this whole matter was dropped. Steve, Fred, I'm sorry you got dragged into this."

I have deliberately been focussing my attention to the headmaster, avoiding looking at Stacy so that I don't give her away. I am distracted by the sound of sobbing. Turning my attention back to Stacy I notice that she has started to cry.

"It was me," Stacy declared, "I set Steve up and took the photo of us together."

Before anybody could react, Stacy jumped up and ran from the room, tears streaming from her face as she dashed away.

"Jessica, go keep an eye on her," Mr Jones called out to our mutual friend. Jessica immediately dashed off after the stricken girl.

"Steve, if you have any other copies of the photo, I advise you destroy them. Also, you and Fred need to report for one weeks’ worth of break and lunch time detention after half-term. Consider yourself lucky that I'm not imposing more serious punishment," Mr Faraday instructed. "Stephanie, I accept you had nothing to do with this stupidity, so the elections will go ahead as planned."

My phone, still sat on the desk in front of me sprang to life, indicating an incoming call. The normal rule is that phones remain off during lessons, and I wouldn't expect any calls. Looking at the display, I can see Jessica's name appear on the screen. Considering she has just taken off after Stacy, I suspect that it might be urgent.

I quickly answer it, "What's going on Jessica?" This immediately catches the attention of everyone present. I listen for a few seconds before telling Jessica that help is on the way.

"Has something happened to Stacy?" Mr Faraday asks with concern.

"She is in a bit of an emotional state at the moment. She's panicking that me and Steve will hate her and everybody will think that she's a complete slut," I reply. "I admit I'm annoyed and disappointed, but I don't hate her and I think I need to go and tell her that."

"She may be a bit willing to please. Possibly even classifiable as a bit easy, but there is no way I would ever consider her a slut," Steve declared.

"What exactly did you two get up to anyway," Natasha asked. "I have a feeling a lot of us might be overestimating what actually happened. Especially as Stacy staged the photo, I suspect she made it appear more suggestive than it really might have been."

"May I have the photo back please, Sir?" Steve asked, holding up a permanent marker pen. "I'm willing to let a censored version of the image be seen."

Mr Faraday handed the paper back to the boy, who took it and scribbled over part of the photo before holding it up. The picture was a three-quarter body shot of Steve with his trousers undone. Stacy's hand was positioned in front of his crotch, but her hand and what she was holding had been blacked out by the marker. Given the contented expression on Steve's face, it was pretty obvious what she was holding without it being visible.

"She's only done this the once and was very nervous about it. However, she insisted she needed to do this to confirm her sexuality and begged me to allow it. I guess she was using that as an excuse to set up the blackmail. I don't think she would have considered doing this under normal circumstances," Steve clarified. "Sir, I think Emily and I should go talk to Stacy and calm her down."

"Okay, go talk to her. Bring her to my office when you have finished," The headmaster stated.

The two of us departed and headed for the girls bathroom near the canteen, with Mr Faraday following. As we entered the room, he stood outside preventing anybody else from entering. Jessica was sat on the worktops between two sinks, facing a closed cubicle. Sobbing could be heard from behind the door.

"Come out of there and stop being so dramatic. We need to talk," I declared.

"You're not supposed to be in here. This is the one bathroom you're banned from," Stacy replied.

"So, I'm not supposed to be in here either, but that isn't stopping us," Steve stated. "Mr Faraday is waiting outside so we won't be disturbed."

"Steve!" Stacy squealed.

"If you don't come out I'm going to pop the lock, whether you're decent or not," he added.

Some shuffling was heard for a few seconds before the sound of the bolt sliding open reverberated round the silent room. Slowly the door opened and Stacy half emerged, leaning against the door frame, head down and face covered in tears. "You hate me, don't you? Both of you. You have every right. I'm sorry Emily, but it was for your own good. I knew I screwed up with Stephanie and that she was asking around about you. Despite the whisperings, nothing negative seemed to be being said. I know you're a lot happier when you don't have to be a boy, and as the cat was almost out of the bag anyway, I thought it would be best to push the issue."

"Well it worked last time with my family," I replied. "I'm fully aware that I need the occasional kick up the arse to stop me procrastinating, but I'm still pissed off with the way you went about it. Why did you have to involve Steve and Fred?"

"I'm sorry Steve," Stacy sobbed, more tears streaming down her face. "I knew I would be prime suspect, so had to have somebody else do the blackmailing so that I could be with Emily when she received the threats, giving me an alibi. Please don't hate me. I didn't intend for you to get caught or include Fred."

"I can potentially forgive you. However, there is one thing I have to know first," Steve declared. "Was the affection you showed me just an act. I would honestly like to be your boyfriend, but not if you are only using me."

"For Christ's sake stop looking at each other soppily and just kiss and make up," Jessica interrupted. "Steve, she's been day dreaming about you for months, and I've seen you go all tongue tied whenever she's around."

"I couldn't bring myself to touch any other boy down there. I didn't want my first intimate experiences being with anybody. I love you Steve."

"Come here," he beckoned with open arms. Stacy shuffled towards him. As soon as she was close enough he wrapped her in a big hug. "I love you too, you silly goose. Just don't try manipulating me again."

Steve then swatted her backside causing her to jump and squeal, which was cut short as he pulled her into a kiss. She immediately responded and returned the kiss.

After several minutes of passionate snogging, Jessica asked me, "Do you think that bin will fit under the tap. If these two don't stop in a minute I think we'll need a bucket of water."

Two very embarrassed teens separated and looked appropriately sheepish. I suggested that Stacy may want to clean herself up before leaving to see Mr Faraday. After a quick wash, she let Steve lead her out of the bathroom holding her hand. Jessica and I followed.

Mr Faraday asked Stacy to accompany him to his office. He was slightly surprised when Steve put a protective arm round his girlfriend and asked if he could accompany her. He nodded, and sent Jessica and I back to the classroom.

We arrived back just as the last few people were queuing up to vote for the class elections and were instructed to join the back of the line. A voting booth had been set up at the back of the room where we could mark a slip of paper without being seen. I smiled when it was my turn. The slips had been reprinted with my new name.

There is no rule saying you can't vote for yourself. In fact it's somewhat expected that you do so. I however choose to vote for Stephanie. She had done a very good job of talking to everybody, finding their opinions of me, and smoothing things over for my transition. She does come across as brash and bossy, and can be a bit of a bitch at times, but she is also very good at getting things done. The last few weeks has also demonstrated her more sensitive and subtle side as she canvased everyone for their views on my gender.

Once we had all voted we returned to our seats to watch the live transmission from the media suite that was now being projected onto the whiteboard. The show was hosted by the A-level media students and involved a lot of fun and games with individuals and classes competing in various quizzes.

After half an hour, Stacy and Steve returned to class and added their votes to the box. Stacy would also be joining Steve and Fred in one week of in-school detention. However, she would also face several nights of after school detention on top of what the others were serving.

The results of the election were counted mid-afternoon. I won by three votes. While I suspect that Stephanie might have been the more capable person, she isn't the most liked or approachable person in our class. I also have the advantage of an obvious working relationship with the headmaster.

Unfortunately I didn't win the contest for best costume of the day. That went to a boy in the year above dressed up to look like Jonny Depp as Tonto in the recent Lone Ranger film. I did however get a special joke award for most long term use of a costume for coming to this school for over a year pretending to be a boy.

The usual seating arrangement had been abandoned for the afternoon, and people naturally split up into several smaller groups. I was very glad to be welcomed amongst a bunch of girls rather than being ostracised. I'll grudgingly admit Stacy did me a favour. I won't try to get my own back on her or make her suffer too much. She is going to get enough flak from her parents as it is. This is something that became more obvious when both our mother's cars were parked outside the school at the end of the day. Stacy had to stay behind and report to the office. She was very worried, so I gave her a reassuring hug and said goodbye, leaving her to her fate. If things got to heavy, then I would ask the adults to go easy on her. However, for the mean time she deserved to be stressed out a bit for all the trouble she's put me through.

Epilogue

I rolled the tights up my freshly shaved legs, making sure that the seams were straight. I pulled them over my hips and shuffled them into position on top of the white panties. As usual, I was wearing two layers of underwear, as I had a gaff on underneath the pair on top.

I adjusted the grey pleated skirt, pulling it down a fraction so that if ended just below my knees. I tucked my blouse into my skirt, smoothing the fabric over my chest, admiring the small mounds that were being emphasised by my training bra. Unlike the previous time I appeared at school on the Friday before half-term, this time I was not grossly exaggerating my proportions.

Leaning forward into the mirror, I applied my lipstick, a subtle shade of pink that was only just noticeable, but just enough to emphasise my lips. I had already added a small amount of mascara to my eyes. I drop my makeup into my school bag in case I need to touch it up later. Giving one final look in the mirror to make sure that none of the clips from the hair extensions were visible; I slipped my shoes on my feet and headed for the door.

I descended the stairs with my school bag and walked into the kitchen where my mother and friend, Stacy, were waiting. After a final check that we have everything we need, we head out the door to the car. My mother drops us off at the school gate.

Steve is waiting for Stacy and as soon as my mother has driven off they are pulling themselves into a tight embrace. Leaving them too it, I head into the main building. I smile to people as I pass them, and while I get a few looks, nobody seems surprised or hostile to my appearance. I enter my classroom and take my seat, and immediately get drawn into a conversation with the other girls about the latest Dreamworks film, Turbo. A bunch of us went and saw it over half-term.

Steve and Stacy come in just as the bell is ringing. Mr Jones starts the register and I answer my name when he calls "Emily Bridges".

It is a perfectly normal start to a perfectly normal day. The only difference being I'm no longer in a costume or pretending to be somebody else.