I was scared to death of what would happen when the school found out that Marcie was a boy. I had to hope that the principal would understand.

Jerry was a tenth grader. He was a few inches taller than me, so I had to look up to talk to him. He was very confident, positive, sure of himself, and likeable.

I, on the other hand, was embarrassed, felt overexposed, and was scared to death of what would happen when the school found out that Marcie was a boy. I had to hope that the principal would understand. I wondered whether the best course might just be to run out the door, straight home. I could change my clothes, get my hair cut short, and come back to school as Mark to do the 'add thingy'.

But Jerry put me at my ease. When I said I didn't want to walk through the halls dressed in my little skirt and top, first he complimented me, and then told me that I had to brazen it out: "Walk through the halls like you own the place," he said. "Hold your head up. Don't show weakness. You have to imagine that everyone wishes they were dressed just like you."

"Even the boys?" I asked.

"Especially the boys," he laughed.

So I tried to imagine Jerry wishing he were dressed like me, and Mr. Bruce wishing he were dressed like me. Then I imagined Jerry and Mr. Bruce dressed in the short skirt and silly top, and started laughing.

"That's the spirit!" Jerry said. "Now you're ready, so let's go!"

We burst into a hallway full of students and noise. Jerry led me by the arm up the center of the hallway, talking the whole time. I kept my head up, smiling, imagining people in the crowd dressed as I was. With Jerry's encouragement, it was hard not to burst out laughing. But then I heard a few whistles and hoots. When someone called out "Whoa, baby! Check out those legs!" I lost my nerve. Jerry said something, but I couldn't hear him over the roar of voices. A wave of panic shot through me, but just before I cut into a frenzied run, a woman's voice broke through the noise. She shouted, "Young lady! Stop right there! You, in the short blue skirt! I'm talking to you!"

Jerry muttered, "Holy crap!" and reluctantly let go of my right arm as a strong hand grabbed hold of my left.

"Off we go!" the woman shouted. "Straight to the principal's office!"

I tried to explain that that was where I was heading and why, but the teacher, who was a good foot and a half taller than me and quite a bit stronger, wouldn't listen. The hallway erupted into whistles, shouts, and applause, although I wasn't sure how any of it was intended. It was so confusing that I was glad when we finally landed in the principal's office.

... or the outer office. The gym teacher, Ms. Price, was there, talking to the secretary. When I first entered, she said, "Oh, here she is..." but trailed off when the massive woman burst in behind me. I dangled in her grip like a rag doll.

"I need to see Mr. Bryant," she bellowed. "This girl is in flagrant violation of the dress code. Arm in arm with her boyfriend, as cool as you please, parading her naked legs up and down the hallways."

"Marcie," Ms. Price asked, "why didn't you get changed before you came here?"

"He isn't my boyfriend," I said, going white.

"And your clothes?" Ms. Price prompted.

"Somebody took them," I said.

"A likely story," the other teacher scoffed. "Ten to one she came to school this way."

Ms. Price asked, "Someone stole your clothes out of your locker?"

"No," I said, blushing. "They were on a shelf..."

"A shelf?" the other teacher repeated. "You stupid girl!"

"Mrs. Zeff!" a male voice said. "Would you please lower your voice? What is going on here? No, I take that back. I heard everything from my office, and I don't want to hear it again. You, young lady, what is your name?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Which name should I say? Ms. Price came to the rescue. "Her name is Marcie Donner, Mr. Bryant. She's an add. A ninth grader."

"First of all, your clothes," he said. "Is there anyone at home who could bring you something more appropriate to wear?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "My aunt might be working."

Mr. Bryant gestured to his secretary. "Ms. Trujillo, could you make a call?" He then drew Mrs. Zeff into his office.

"You know my aunt, don't you?" I asked the secretary. "Her name is Jane Donner. She said she's a friend of yours."

"I don't know your aunt," she replied, with a little irritation. "Can you tell me her number?"

I was confused. I was sure that Jane told me that the secretary was her best friend. Ms. Trujillo asked for the phone number again, and with a little fumbling, I gave it to her.

"No answer," she said. "Looks like your aunt is working today."

"Then I'm sunk," I said. "Unless I can go home by myself."

Both women told me that was out of the question.

"I have an idea!" Ms. Price exclaimed, and whispered something to Ms. Trujillo.

"You can try," said Miss Trujillo with a shrug. "While you do that, I'll get the add's done." To me, she said, "Have a seat on the bench there, hon. I think Mrs. Zeff is going to be a long time in there."

She put her head down and got busy with some paperwork. To herself she muttered, "This part I'll do, but the rest I don't know. I'll just leave a note!"

I watched the clock. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen. Mrs. Zeff and the principal were still going at it. I couldn't believe they could be talking that long about me. Still, all I could do was wait. Suddenly, Ms. Price returned, flushed and a little out of breath.

"I found something," she said. "These look like they're just your size," she said as she handed me a pile of clothes. "They were in lost and found, but they're perfectly clean. I found this black bag, too, where you can put your... outfit. Isn't it cool?" I had to admit that it was quite cool.

"And here's a plastic bag for your shoes," Ms. Price continued. She seemed to enjoy unloading all these presents on me. Then she stopped, bent close to my face and whispered, "I know it might seem icky, but I managed to get you some underwear. Don't worry: I'm sure it's clean." With a small friendly smile, she pushed me into a tiny bathroom behind the secretary's desk. "Try to be quick," she said. "I think the principal will be easier on you if you're dressed properly."

She caught the door as I was closing it, and whispered, "Have you ever worn a bra?"

My eyes grew big and I shook my head no.

"I found one that must have belonged to a small girl like you. It has a little padding. Try it on, okay? If it doesn't work, I can always rummage a little more."

I locked the door, and looked through the clothes. Of course, they were girl's clothes. There was an aqua tiered skirt that fell to just above my knees, and a white top with long, loose sleeves that ended a couple inches above my wrists. There was also a pair of light brown shoes that looked like slippers. I didn't see much choice, and I wanted to get out of the idiot gym skirt, so I quickly dressed, and came out of the bathroom. I collected "my" gym clothes and sneakers, and was stuffing them into the nice black bag that Ms. Price had given me, when I noticed the way the two women were looking at me.

"Why aren't you wearing the bra?" Ms. Price asked. "I got it because you really need it with that top."

I blushed. "I didn't see a bra," I replied, and turned to look in the bathroom. Both women stifled their laughter.

The bra was hanging out of my waistband in the back. Ms. Price pulled it out, handed it to me, and pushed me back into the bathroom. When I came out, Mr. Bryant was also there, and Mrs. Zeff was gone.

"Much better," Mr. Bryant said. "Big improvement. Thank you, Ms. Price."

Ms. Price gave me a wink and a smile, waved a small pack of papers at me, and left the office.

"Now come with me," Mr. Bryant said, and entered his office.

After we both sat down, he was silent for a minute, and then began. "Do you know that we have a dress code at this school?"

"No, sir."

He raised his eyebrows. "You don't?"

"No, sir..." I started to explain, but he held up his hand to stop me.

"If I were to ask you for example, whether sneakers are acceptable footwear, what would you say?"

"Yes?"

"No."

He rubbed his chin. "You're new. Apparently you're an 'add' just arriving today, so I don't want to be too hard on you. However, you ran afoul of Mrs. Zeff, and she has put you on her blacklist. I wouldn't worry about that IF — and I stress the IF — you don't violate the dress code again. And if you avoid getting in any other trouble. You don't look like a troublemaker. You're not a troublemaker, are you?"

"No, sir." I said. "Do I have detention?"

"No," he said. "Nothing so serious. This time, anyway. I think — and hope — that Mrs. Zeff put the fear of God into you. Can you sit there for a moment? I'll be right back." Mr. Bryant went to the outer office and talked with his secretary. As he opened the door to come back in, he was saying, "... two copies: one with the letter, and the other in an unsealed envelope by itself."

Then, as if he were meeting me for the first time, Mr. Bryant chatted. He asked about my family, about my aunt, about the move, and whether I liked living in Tierson. I began to relax, and was about to explain my situation, when there came a soft tapping at the door, and Miss Trujillo walked in with two envelopes. After she left, Mr. Bryant said. "Well, here's your punishment. I think you'll see you're getting off pretty easy. However, if you don't take it seriously, we'll have to come up with something worse." He handed me the two envelopes. "You can see that one is for you and one is for your aunt. Your envelope has something I want you to memorize. And please take it seriously, because Mrs. Zeff might stop you in the hall and ask you to recite it for her, as well.

"Have your aunt sign her note, so I know that she's read it. Tomorrow morning, you need to come to school ten minutes early, and report directly here to me. Bring the note, signed, and be ready to recite that text. Okay?"

I nodded. This was going to be easy. "You'll also be coming here so that I can check that you conform to the dress code. Is that going to be a problem?"

"No, sir," I said. Especially when I explain that I'm a boy.

He continued, "And you will do that for the following two weeks, making eleven days total. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," I said.

He stood up. Something in the way he did it made me stand as well. He came around the desk and ushered me out the door.

"There is something else I need to talk to you about," I said.

"I'm sorry, but it will have to wait until tomorrow," and he shut his office door. I was about to knock when he suddenly reopened. "Oh, there is one more thing," he said, "and then I really have to leave you. Make sure you wear a dress for the next two weeks. One that fits the dress code. No jeans, no pants, no shorts, etc. A dress or a skirt. Understood?"

Then, before I could say another word, he shut the door a second time.

© 2006, 2007 by Kaleigh Way