Angela’s words “you’re mine Karen” pounded in his head as Kenny tried to get to sleep; he was exhausted from a day filled with emotion, beginning with Gabe’s renewed attention to Karen and ending with the obsessed desire of Angela to possess him even to the degree that she would engage in a fierce physical fight for his attention.

Angela frightened him with the intensity of her passion and the strength of her arms and legs. He had never seen a fight as physical and fierce as he did that evening between the two girls. And now Angela was declaring that he was hers; no, Karen was hers. He could never defend himself against the girl, he realized as he looked at himself in the mirror that night as he put up his hair before retiring. His arms were those of a 13-year-old girl, slender, undefined, spongy.

He realized it was his fragility and weakness that helped accentuate his feminine beauty and made Karen such an object of desire by Angela and her girl friend Doreen; that same daintiness attracted boys like Gabe and Mark Hamilton.

The idea of being “owned” by Angela began to rankle Kenny. No one should be able to own another person; that was slavery. How could he remove himself from the grip of Angela, he wondered. He feared her anger if he told her he wanted nothing to do with her.

His life had changed in the few months from summer when he was chosen to play Ophelia to the days at the University where he was identified so often as either an effeminate faggot and as a lovely girl. Kenny checked his email after putting on a nightie before going to bed; he rarely wore a nightie to bed, even though he still was without a roommate and was free to wear anything he wanted. He worried about a fire alarm coming in the middle of the night and he’d be forced to leave his room in the nightie to the derision of the entire dorm population.

There was an email from Gabe:

“Thinking about you, Karen. See ya’ tomorrow. Hugs and kisses. Gabe”

And one from his brother Sonny:

“Hi bro. am starting qb on jv fb team. Mom sez hi. Sonny”

He smiled remembering his brother’s manner of using few words to say anything, but he knew Sonny would be thrilled at being the starting quarterback as a freshman on the junior varsity football team. Despite Sonny’s continual teasing and apparent disgust with Kenny’s girlish ways, Kenny realized he loved his brother and was happy that he was finding success on the gridiron. He was worried, though, because he knew how dangerous the game could be and that his brother might get hurt. He would never understand how young men could expose their bodies to such violence and potential hurt.

He brightened up when he saw an email from Mark Hamilton:

“Hi Kenny . . . hope you’re doing well at the univ. I still think often of Karen and the lovely couple we made. (Smiley face) I’ve been so busy with fb and school and get so tired some nites but when I think of Karen I wished she was in the stands cheering me on. Reply if you wish. I’ll understand if you don’t. I was cruel to you. And I’m sorry. Mark.”

Kenny read the message three times and finally read it aloud, relishing every word. Of course, he began crying. The tears flowed and he sobbed aloud, but the tears were joyful ones. What else could a girl do?

He tried several times to start to reply to Mark, realizing that he would only answer him as Karen a girl deeply in love. But what should Karen write? After several false starts, he began typing:

“Dear Mark . . . I would have given you a hundred kisses for every touchdown pass you threw last week. That would have been 300 kisses! Would that become boring for you? LOL.

“Yes, I check the scores every week to see how you’re doing. You must have every girl on campus lusting after you. I’m jealous! Really!

“I cherish every moment we had together this summer and I understand why you had to walk away from me that night. Meanwhile, I hope you have many more td passes and you find a real girl friend who loves you as Karen did.

“And Mark, please don’t get hurt. Don’t let them break your arm or scratch your handsome face. Please. It’s such a rough sport.

“If you wish, I’d welcome more emails from you. Your friend forever, Karen”

Kenny hit “send” and fell upon his bed and cried as only Karen would cry.

*****
Kenny grew more comfortable in the classrooms and as he walked about the campus. He realized few students paid much attention to him and his androgynous appearance. More often than not he was obviously mistaken as a girl and several boys made flirtatious comments and perhaps even eyed him as a potential girlfriend.

The problem was, however, that his new life was clouding his mind and interfering with his concentration in class. He had always been a top student, but on the day after his exchange of emails with Mark, coupled with memories of the Angela’s possessive nature and Gabe’s newfound affection, he found it hard to keep his mind on the lectures in the classroom. Mostly, he thought of Mark and how much he desired to again be holding his hand and nestling next to him.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Jenny said after the morning lecture as they walked to their usual morning get-together at the Union with the girls. Though the girls knew of his gender, they all had called him Karen and he had soon been accepted, giggles and gossips included.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kenny said. “I guess I was day-dreaming.”

“About one of your many boyfriends?” Jenny said with a smile.

Kenny giggled.

“No,” Jenny said, answering her own question. “It must be just about one boy. I get that way sometimes about Kevin.”

The two continued without talking as Kenny considered whether to tell Jenny about Mark, whether he should admit his longing for the boy and his own sadness at being rejected by Mark when he refused to tell his parents about Kenny’s gender.

“Yes, it is about one boy,” Kenny said sheepishly.

“Wanna tell me about him?”

“Not now, maybe soon. I got lots to sort out in my own mind,” he said.

“Ok, Karen, I won’t probe, but if you want to talk about it at anytime, remember I’m your friend,” she said.

“I know you are, and a sweet friend, too,” Kenny said, reaching and giving the girl’s hand a gentle squeeze.

*****
Even though it was a coolish early fall afternoon, most of the outdoor tables at Java Jazz were occupied when Kenny arrived just a minute or two after 4 p.m. Gabe had found a table in the sun and Kenny was grateful since he wondered whether the purplish hoody he wore would keep him warm enough.

“I was worried you wouldn’t come,” Gabe said.

“I wasn’t that late, was I?”

“Oh no, it’s just that I wanted to see you so bad and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t come ‘cause the way I treated you.”

Kenny smiled, moving his chair closer to the boy, and leaning in to peck him on the cheek.

“Forget that, Gabe. I have.”

Gabe left to get their drinks and cookies, leaving Kenny to settle down. He felt a tweak of guilt by accepting the hospitality of Gabe while his mind raced back and forth about Mark. He couldn’t get the boy out of his head.

“Oh, there you are, my girl,” said a booming voice.

*****
Kenny looked up to see Professor Fenstrom standing next to the table, eyeing Kenny carefully.

“Yes, you’re just what I need for my part, dear,” Fenstrom said, bringing an empty chair from another table and plopping it down at the table.

“Oh, professor!” Kenny said, surprised.

“You’re just as cute as I remembered you,” he said in his theatrical voice. “Almost a natural to play a teen girl.”

“But,” Kenny protested.

“No buts. You’re a picture of teenage cuteness. I want you to do the audition, honey. We’ll see if you can act, and if you can, you’re a sure bet for the part.”

Gabe returned with the drinks and the cookies, setting them down on the table without much ceremony.

“Hello, young man,” Fenstrom said. “I’m sorry to interrupt you two lovebirds, but I just had to talk with your girlfriend. For the part, you know?”

“That’s Ok,” Gabe said, not trying to hold back the disgust in his voice.

“I won’t be long, son, I just need to know if this lovely girl has made up her mind about doing the audition. As I recall, your name is Karen, right?”

Gabe looked at Kenny, giving him a quizzical look. Kenny felt uneasy, realizing that Professor Fenstrom had been serious on their previous meeting and had no idea that Kenny was a boy.

“I don’t think so, professor,” Kenny said, realizing how awkward the moment was to everyone.

“Why not, honey?” Fenstrom said, putting a hand on Kenny’s arm. “You said you wanted to be an actor and had done some acting with McIver. If he liked you, I’m sure I would too.”

“Well . . . ah . . . ah . . . I’m just not ready for it, sir,” Kenny said. He was lying, realizing how much he’d love to play such a part.

“I think you are,” Fenstrom said, fixing his eyes upon Kenny. “What are you worried about?”

Kenny wanted to hide under the table. There was no way that he could take the part; he was still a boy, regardless of his appearance. How could he convince the professor without telling the truth? Oh yes, the truth! Such a fearsome thought.

Gabe reached over and grabbed Kenny’s free hand. He looked pleadingly at Kenny; it was as if he was telling Kenny to confess the truth. Kenny looked at him, wondering if he would burst into tears again. He made a decision at that moment.

“Sir,” he began. “The truth is . . . ah . . . ah . . . well . . . that I’m really a boy so I can’t do it.”

The moment he said it he felt relieved, even though he feared the professor might rise up in anger and beat him to a pulp. Fortunately, Gabe was there to defend him.

Fenstrom’s eyes widened. He gulped noisily and coughed into his hand.

“A boy? You’re kidding me!” he said.

“No she’s not,” confirmed Gabe.

“She? You just said she,” the professor said.

“Well that’s how I know her, but she told me she’s really a boy,” Gabe said.

Fenstrom shook his head in puzzlement. “But, Karen, or whatever your name is, you’re so incredibly feminine!”

“Thank you, sir,” Kenny mumbled, still numb from the whole incident.

“Well, that changes things a bit, I guess,” Fenstrom said. “I’ll have to rethink this. Hmmm, a lovely boy playing the female lead. Just like Shakespeare times.”

Kenny looked at the professor. Was he serious? He sounded that way.

“Look, Karen,” the professor started. “I want you to audition next Monday afternoon at 4 p.m. at the Union theater. Come dressed just like you are and list yourself as Karen and whatever your last name is and tryout.”

“But, sir . . .” Kenny began.

“No buts young lady. Just show up. Don’t prepare. I’ll send you a few lines to study and instructions by email. Let’s see what you can do! Ok?”

Kenny nodded.

“Ok then, tell me your last name now so I can list you for the audition, dear,” he said.

“It’s Hansson with two ‘s’ sir.”

He stood up, leaned over and gave Kenny a quick kiss. Without a word, he left the table.

*****
Gabe grabbed Kenny’s hand firmly, almost crushing it. He was angry and he looked at Kenny, his eyes flashing violently.

“You’re not going to tryout for that old letch, are you?”

Kenny looked at Gabe, feeling so confused. He nodded his head tentatively.

“I think I will, Gabe,” he said, not entirely sure about whether he’d actually follow through with the audition.

“But Karen, it’s just not right,” Gabe said, his voice firm and commanding. “He wants you to audition as girl. That’s dishonest.”

“But Gabe, I want to act so bad and if I have to do it as a girl, maybe that’s what I need to do.”

“That’s disgusting. You’re still really a boy.”

“But that’s not how you see me, is it, Gabe? You treat me more like a girlfriend, don’t you. Always calling me ‘Karen.’ Don’t you see a girl here?”

The boy nodded. “That’s all I see now. God, you’re so pretty Karen. Why can’t you be a real girl?”

“Oh Gabe, I am a girl inside,” Kenny said. “I’ve never realized it until recently. I don’t ever think like a boy.”

Suddenly, he burst into tears; his noticeable sobbing drew the attention of several students at nearby tables and one of the boys got up from his table, challenging Gabe: “Are you hurting this girl?”

Kenny looked up, as the boy handed him a tissue, apparently to wipe his eyes.

“No, I’m not hurting her,” Gabe said, defensively.

“Is he hurting you,” the boy addressed Kenny, placing his hand gently on Kenny’s shoulder.

“No. No. He’s not,” Kenny said through his sobs.

“You’re sure?”

A girl’s voice boomed in, “Frankie, she’s all right. Leave them alone. It’s none of your business.”

It came from a girl who had been the boy’s companion. She was obviously mad at the boy for deserting her for what he perceived to be an even better-looking girl in apparent distress.

“Just so you’re Ok,” the boy said to Kenny. “Just yell out if you need help. I’ll be right over there.”

“Just go,” Gabe said. “She’s mine and you better tend to your own girlfriend, Buster.”

Kenny blanched, his mind reacting to Gabe’s words of “she’s mine.” He’d heard those words before when Angela declared “she’s mine” when she thought Doreen was paying too much attention to Kenny.

“I’m nobody’s girl,” he thought to himself. “I’m my own girl. Nobody has a right to own anybody else.”

Where did people get the idea that they own another person? Do all girls face this thought that their boyfriends (and butch girlfriends as well) own them? Or is it just dainty, girly girls like Karen?

He looked up at the boy, tears still flowing down his cheeks, and said, “I’m fine, really! My boyfriend and I just were having a discussion. He’s really very sweet. You better get back to your friend, dear. But thank you for your concern.”

The boy nodded and left with a smile, carefully concealing his face from the gazes of either Gabe or his own companion. Kenny heard his female companion berate him as he returned to the table. “You want to be a knight in shining armor to every pretty girl you see, don’t you Frankie? Not all of us can be a cute as that bitch over there. Bet she’s dumb as a rock.”

“Awwwww, she was crying. I just trying to help.”

“Sit down and pay attention to me,” she said.

Kenny looked at Gabe, his eyes still moist with tears. Overhearing the argument at the other table, Kenny began to giggle. Gabe did, too, and soon the both of them struggled to hide their laughing from the quarreling couple. It was a precious, shared moment.

The two later spent time touring an art exhibit that was set up in one of the rooms of the Union and Gabe invited Kenny to have pizza with him at a local restaurant before escorting Kenny back to his room. When the got to the dorm, Kenny warned Gabe to treat him like a boy — “no kissing or hugging.”

“I been having problems with the boys in the room across the hall,” he said. “You know that boy you scared away? Randy?”

“Yes, that one! He looked mean. Why don’t I go with you to your room, if you’re scared?” Gabe said.

“That’s sweet of you, Gabe,” he said. Kenny kissed the boy on the cheek. They were still a block from the dorm and in a relatively isolated spot.

Randy was with two other boys in Tom’s room across the hall as Kenny and Gabe reached the door to the dorm room. Kenny could hear some snickering and then a voice, obviously Randy’s boom out: “I see the sissy girl has an escort.”

Gabe turned to face the boy: “Leave her . . . ah . . . him alone.” His voice faltered, his gender reference throwing him off his threatening tone.

“And you’ll do what?”

Regaining his composure, Gabe yelled, “And, I’ll make a sissy girl out of you and your buddies, too. And don’t think I can’t do it.”

Remembering how Gabe had shamed him before, Randy obviously thought best of continuing the challenge. “All right, all right, don’t get in a huff. Just having a little fun, is all.”

“Well, lay off Kenny,” he warned.

Kenny opened the door, his heart pounding both in fear and excitement, and he led Gabe into the room, purposefully leaving the door open. He wanted to indicate to Gabe that he was not to show any affection for him while in the dorm room.

“Thanks, Gabe, maybe that’ll shut them up.”

“I’d like to have another go at that tub of lard,” he said. “I hate bullies, and he’s one for sure.”

“Thanks again.”

Gabe smiled. “Anything for a damsel in distress.”

“That’s me,” Kenny giggled.

*****
“Mommy, I miss you and Sonny so much,” he said into the phone.

“Oh, my darling it’s good to hear your voice but you sound like you’ve been crying,” his mother said. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, mommy,” he said, high voice pinched into a high register.

“You’re sounding so much like a little girl, now, dear,” she said.

Kenny sniffled, trying to muffle the sound, but failing. “I probably do,” he said finally. “It seems everyone thinks I’m a girl, too.”

His mother didn’t answer for a moment. “Is that causing you trouble, dear?” she asked, her voice reflecting her hesitation.

He giggled, a nervous giggle, since the real answer was that he liked being mistaken for a girl; it was better than being taken for a sissy faggot, as he seemed to be labeled by many of the residents of his dorm unit.

“No mother,” he said, seriously. “I like it. In fact, I’ve made more friends than ever, since they all thought I was a girl at first.”

“That’s nice, dear. Tell me about them.”

“Oh, mother, it’s so cool, really. Jenny this girl I met in the first class I took. She’s so nice, too, and usually during a break I join her and her group of girl friends at the Union, and they all like me, mother. Really, it’s just like I’m one of them.”

“Do they know about Kenny, dear?” she asked.

“Right from the start, mother. I insisted that we tell the truth. But they don’t even notice I’m a boy now. They always call me Karen. It’s so cool. I never had any real friends before.”

“Oh my darling Kenneth,” she said. “Are you gone forever?”

Kenny was alarmed. His mother sounded mad.

“Mother, are you mad at me?”

“Oh gosh, honey, no. As long as you’re happy, dear.”

Relieved, Kenny began to gush, words pouring out in torrents as he described how Angela had introduced him to her group of friends; he did not tell his mother that her friends were gay and that he had kept his gender a secret with them.

“And I have a boyfriend already,” he said.

“A what?”

“Mother, a boyfriend. His name’s Gabe and he’s big and strong and he’s so nice to me,” Kenny said. “And he’s so protective of me. Making sure I get to me room safely and all that. He’s such a gentleman and he was raised on a farm in Minnesota. Gabe’s a real sweety.”

“A boyfriend? Do you think that’s safe? Does he know about you?”

“Yes, mother, I told him and he walked away at first, but then he asked me for a date. I told him everything, mother.”

“And what’s this about him being protective? What’s going on, Kenneth?” Her voice had a firmness that was accentuated with calling him “Kenneth.”

“Oh, nothing. He’s just being protective.”

“Why do you need protection?” his mother persisted.

“Oh mother,” he began. “It’s so awful. I’m scared all the time here.”

“Where?”

“In this dorm, the guys all call me names, and Gabe saved from attack from one of them. I love the school and my classes and my friends, but this dorm scares me, mother.”

“An attack?”

“Oh it was nothing. Gabe came along and scared the guy away. He’s so nice, mother.”

Kenny wished he hadn’t told his mother about the dorm and alarmed her. He said he was dealing with it, and she wondered if he could be moved to another dormitory. Kenny argued it probably wouldn’t matter; he’d probably have the same problem in whatever boys’ dorm in which he lived.

He told her he had begun going to the gender clinic and that the doctors there indicated he might be a good candidate for transitioning to living fulltime as a girl. He had a few more visits he’d have to make before he could begin doing hormones to begin the transition.

“You’re sure that’s what you want, darling?” his mother asked.

“More than anything, mommy,” he said, reverting to a little girl’s manner of addressing his mother.

“It won’t be easy for you, dear.”

“I know, but it’s the only way I can live. Mommy, I’m a girl.”

“And a very pretty and sweet girl you are, my daughter,” his mother said.

“I love you, mommy.”

“I love you Karen.”

“Mommy, thank you for calling me that.”

“Bye bye, take care of yourself, dear and study hard.”

“I will mommy, and tell Aunt Harriet I miss her and hope to see her during Thanksgiving vacation. But don’t tell her I haven’t done any crocheting. I’ve just been too busy here.”

“I know she misses your visits, Kenny, and I’m sure she would understand.”

Aunt Harriet was the name Kenny and his brother gave to an elderly woman in the apartment building who used to babysit them, and had become particularly fond of Kenny. He had visited her regularly and the old woman had introduced him to the female world of crocheting, fashions and soap operas.

“And give that big strong little brother of mine a kiss from me.”

His mother laughed. “I’m not sure that he’s ready for that yet, but he asks about you a lot.”

“Really? I thought he hated me.”

“No, darling, he doesn’t,” his mother said reassuringly. “Just the other day, he wondered about how you’re doing in college. I know he was proud of how you acted in the play, though I know he won’t admit it. He did say that he was sure that if you were really a girl, you’d be the prettiest girl on campus.”

“He said that?”

“Yes, dear. I think he’s just afraid of what his friends will think of him because of you. You know how boys his age are? He loves you, I know.”

Kenny was in tears when he hung up.