Chapter 17: Oh, Those Darn Men!
She recognized Aaron Livingston from his Facebook photo, a round-faced, almost cherubic face with unruly, blondish hard that tended create cowlicks. He had a clean, fresh appearance and a surprisingly trim and hard-looking body that appeared to be out of sync from his baby-like face. He had told Karen to look for a boy about six feet tall wearing a St. Albert’s College jacket with the school colors of black and gold.

The boy stood politely as she approached, almost bowing to her, “Miss Hansson, I presume.”

Karen almost giggled as she tempted to say “Dr. Livingston, I presume” in reference to the famous phrase coined in 1871 when Reporter Henry Morton Stanley located the long-lost Dr. David Livingston near Lake Tanganyika in Africa. Instead, she said simply:

“You must be Aaron, how nice to meet you.”

In an unusual show of gentlemanly manners, he pulled back a chair, as a host would, to assist Karen in sitting down.

Without much more than a few words, Aaron left the table to get Karen a latte; unlike most girls who ordered such drinks to be “skinny,” that is with skim milk, she took it full strength since she was tired and hungry after her long day of work. Unlike his loquacious sister, Aaron spoke awkwardly and haltingly, his words coming out in short bursts followed by pauses. It was not quite a stutter, and the boy seemed to be struggling to find the proper words to say. His hands played nervously with his coffee cup.

“You went to Lincoln High School, my sister said,” Aaron said.

“Yes, and you went to McKinley?”

“Yes, you know anyone at McKinley?” he inquired.

Karen shook her head negatively.

“I played American Legion baseball with some of the guys who went to your school,” he said.

“You play ball?”

“I’m a pitcher and I play now on the St. Albert’s team, but that’s not much. It’s just a small school and it seems any lefty with an arm can make the team,” he said dismissively.

“That’s nice, and I bet you’re better than you say, too,” she said, bringing out a flirty smile.

Aaron blushed.

“You’re pretty,” the boy said suddenly.

“I feel like a train wreck,” Karen replied. “I had to come directly from work, so I couldn’t change from my waitress outfit and only had time to touch up my face.”

“That uniform looks cute on you. You’re pretty just as you are, Karen,” he said.

Aaron took a sip from his coffee, paused to look out the window at a bus that was stopped to pickup passengers across the street.

“Did you know Bill Svenson or Buzz Warner at Lincoln?” the boy’s question again changed the subject abruptly.

“Yes,” Karen said, cursing herself immediately for the answer. She knew both boys and they, of course, would not know about Karen, and perhaps could link her to Kenny.

“They’re good buds of mine,” he said. “Didn’t they ever ask you out on a date?”

Karen blushed and wanted to tell this deadly serious, awkward boy that they would never have met Karen.

“There are lots of pretty girls at Lincoln and they had plenty to choose from,” Karen said finally. “And I didn’t know either of the boys that well.”

She had told a lie. The fact was she had graduated with both boys, had shared many classes with them and had occasional chats with them, even joining them at their lunch table in the cafeteria. Both boys were among the few boys who had treated the sissy boy known as Kenny with some degree of friendliness. They had never belittled Kenny.

As it turned out, Aaron soon began talking more easily, and Karen found their conversations to flow easily. When Karen told him that her major at the University was social work, the boy’s face beamed.

“That’s terrific,” he said. “You care about helping people. Oh, Karen that’s so nice.”

“Thank you, Aaron.”

“I think there’s too much suffering in the world,” the boy said, his words beginning to flow easily and rhythmically. “This may sound stupid and naíve, but I think as young people we have a duty to help change things. Don’t you?”

“Well, yes, but how, Aaron? It’s such a big problem. Where do we start?”

“Sure, but we have to start somewhere,” he said, the stammer and stutter gone from his talk. “I’m not a religious guy, but I know that Jesus began the Christian faith with just 12 men and said that wherever a few people gathered in God’s name that they had power. Oh I got ideas.”

It was nearly ten o’clock — almost two hours — later when Karen suggested that she should get home. It wasn’t that Aaron had bored her; indeed not, he had stimulated her, since it was obvious that they agreed on the need for assuring that all people deserved a chance in life. Interspersed in their conversations about “changing the world,” Aaron revealed himself to be a sensitive, caring young man, as well as somewhat awkward and inexperienced in the world of dating.

“I never even had a date in high school,” he admitted. “Never went to the prom. I bet you had plenty of dates.”

Karen shook her head. “No, I never went to the prom.”

“Really, as pretty as you are? Are the boys at Lincoln all blind?”

“I was not popular there and pretty much of a nerd,” she said, realizing the conversation was getting into an uncomfortable area.

“That’s unbelievable, Karen. You’re so pretty.”

Karen looked up at the clock on a back wall. “Well, Aaron, it’s been nice and you’re nice, but I need to go. It’s nearly ten o’clock and I have a full day of work tomorrow.”

“Really, already ten? I can’t believe it this time went to so fast. You’re such a . . . ah . . how shall I say it . . ah . . . I guess . . . so smart. I like you.”

“You are, too, Aaron, and I truly enjoyed meeting you.” she said.

“Are you free tomorrow night after work?” he said suddenly.

“Oh Aaron, I’m afraid not. Sorry.”

She saw the immediate disappointment on his face, and immediately wanted to retract the statement, seeing the reaction Aaron had. The truth was she had nothing planned for Saturday night, but since it was her last night at home before returning to the University, she felt she wanted to spend it with her mother, perhaps watching a movie and sharing popcorn together. Also, she did not want to encourage Aaron to pursue her friendship, since it would certainly force her to reveal her background to him. She hoped he would not soon meet up with his friends from her old high school and ask about a girl named “Karen.”

To his credit, Aaron merely nodded and did not pry into why she had to turn down a possible date. Some people, she knew, would want to know why she was busy and would have forced her into a lie. What a sweet boy!

He accompanied her to her car, and she gave him what amounted to a sisterly hug as they parted. To her satisfaction, Aaron accepted it, without responding aggressively, letting her go with a comment: “Maybe I can see you during Christmas vacation.”

Karen nodded, giving him a cheery wave, as she started her mother’s car.

All the way home, she cursed herself for agreeing to the coffee date with Aaron; she had done it merely to satisfy the boy’s sister who was to be her ride back to the University on Sunday. She had hoped the boy would be a big bore or rude or something so hateful that she could rebuff the boy, but he wasn’t. Aaron was a sweetheart, a boy she could easily fall in love with. She could hardly afford another complication in her life. Wasn’t her true love in Ames, Iowa, at that moment, preparing for a football game? And what about Gabe, whose loyalty and support was unquestioning? Fortunately, her female lover, Angela, had found a new love interest in Doreen and would no longer jealously pursue Karen. But, Aaron was such a sweetie! What more could a girl ask for?

*****
Karen’s shift on Saturday began at 11 a.m. at the Olympus and soon became a busy and exhausting day, with the restaurant’s famous brunch special bringing in huge gangs of families. She was exhausted when she began a two-hour break between 2 and 4 p.m. Sharon had suggested that the two of them might want to a nearby mall for leisurely shopping and chat time at the food court.

Karen had hoped to avoid any conversation with Beatrice after the confrontation he had with her the previous night over Beatrice’s stated concern for Karen’s soul. The day so far had been so busy that even though Beatrice and Karen shared adjoining stations, and as had been their practice, assisted each other without complaint.

As things quieted down just before the 2 p.m. break, Beatrice finally cornered Karen at coffee station with a comment: “Have you reflected on the word of God, Kenny?”

“The name’s Karen,” she replied, her tone even and direct. Karen turned to walk away from Beatrice, but was restrained by the girl’s hold on her arm.

Karen turned to look directly into Beatrice’s piercing green eyes. “Didn’t you look up Deuteronomy 22.5? It’s clear that a man should not wear women’s clothes. You’re sinning, Kenny.”

“Again, I’m Karen, plain and simple,” Karen said.

“But you’re a boy, you’re Kenny,” the girl protested.

“Beatrice, I was called Kenny, but I’ve always been a girl. Deep inside me, I’ve always been a girl.”

“But . . . but . . .” Beatrice sputtered.

“When I was in boy’s clothes, did I act like a boy, Beatrice?”

“Well . . . ah . . . ah . . . you acted . . . oh . . . I don’t like that word,” Beatrice said, obviously fumbling.

“Didn’t I move like a girl? Even talk like a girl?”

Beatrice merely nodded.

“And I can knit and crochet better than any girl on the wait staff, I’ll bet. Does that sound like a boy?” Karen asked.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Look, Beatrice, the truth is my body is more like a girl’s than a boy’s and it’s always been that way. I believe I think like a girl and I know I cry like a girl. Doesn’t it follow that I’m really a girl?”

“I guess,” Beatrice said, looking puzzled.

“You know, Beatrice, I’m one of those people whose called transgendered. It’s really something I have no control over. I may have some male parts, but my whole being seems to be female. Thus, I’m really a girl, basically. So when I was dressing like a boy, that’s when I may have been violating what Deuteronomy 22.5 says, if that the Bible says.”

Beatrice looked puzzled, unsure of how to respond. Karen reached over to the girl.

“I know you meant well, Beatrice, but you really didn’t understand,” Karen said, putting her hand on Beatrice’s arms, which she had folded over her chest.

“Maybe you’re right, Kenny . . . oh . . . I’m sorry. I meant Karen,” Beatrice said.

“When I’m back for Christmas vacation, maybe we can talk more, Beatrice,” Karen said. “I know you do some charity work through your church, but I’d like you to join me when I get back, and you can go with me and a couple of my girlfriends when we visit the nursing home. I go there when I can to visit with the ladies. It cheers them up so much.”

“Really, you’d invite me to join you, Karen?” Beatrice asked, surprised at the invitation. “I thought you all laughed at me because I believe in God.”

Karen let out a small giggle. “I think most of us believe in God, especially when we’re being kind and understanding of each other, Beatrice. I don’t know about the others, Beatrice, but I like you. You’re honest and a hard-worker and we make a good team.”

The girl smiled; it was the first time Karen had seen Beatrice lighten up, and he was surprised at how pretty she was when she smiled.

“I’d like to go with you to the nursing at Christmas, if you’ll have me,” she said.

“Of course, we want you to join us,” Karen said.

Karen was surprised to see Beatrice’s eyes begin to well up in tears, and move suddenly to Karen and give her a big hug.

“Thank you, Karen, so much,” she whispered. “I didn’t think anyone cared about me?”

“Oh I think we all do, Beatrice. All we have to do is to open our hearts to everyone,” Karen said.

Their embrace was interrupted by George, the owner, barking loudly, “You got customers want their checks, Beatrice.”

The girl quickly released Karen, and rushed off to serve the customers. Karen looked up at the clock, seeing it was 2 p.m., time for her to meet Sharon and begin their break. She went back to the staff room to get her coat and a purse. As she and Sharon walked out Karen noticed Beatrice was smiling. It brought a smile to her face, too, and Karen was certain Beatrice would find her tips much better for the rest of her shift.

*****
Despite their age difference, the Karen and Sharon had become close friends. Karen had seen that the life-hardened Sharon — her pretty, but lined face showing her many troubles — had a superb mind. The woman, Karen knew, had few years earlier after picked up a G.E.D. and had entered the community college to study accounting. In addition, Sharon was a consummate reader of the news, and had become a solid feminist. Since the summer, Sharon’s life had been further enriched with occasional dates with a local attorney she met through mutual friends. The man was older and widowed with three children and while their dates were infrequent they always left Sharon feeling good about herself. The attorney respected her brains, it was obvious, as well as her natural beauty.

“I finally found a man who respects me,” Sharon confessed to Karen as they sat down with their drinks at the food court in the mall. “I always felt I was only a sex object for guys. But with Wesley it’s so different. He values my opinion on stuff and he’s taken me to new things, like plays and even the opera.”

“The opera? Weren’t you bored to tears?”

“No, not at all. We drove to Milwaukee to see ‘Carmen,’ and it was so colorful with the music and costumes. Oh my, Karen, they were so exciting. And I never heard such voices like that. I loved it, and I dressed so elegantly for the opera. I felt like a queen for the first time in my life.”

Sharon’s eyes glowed as she told of the experience, and Karen almost felt like crying to see the joy in her friend’s face.

“But how are you and the men in your life doing?” Sharon asked, having been given brief words about Karen’s situation during their brief breaks at the Olympus.

“My life has become so complicated, Sharon,” Karen moaned after taking a sip from her Diet Coke.

“Your trouble, dear, is that you want to please everyone, to say ‘yes’ to everyone,’ and you just can’t keep everyone happy,” Sharon said, her calloused hand resting over Karen’s.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”

“That’s sweet of you, Karen, but sometimes the kindest thing to do is to say ‘no.’ You tell me you really pine for that boy in Iowa, and that he seems to be warming up to you again, right?”

“Well, he’s responding to my emails, now, and he said he’d try to see me during Christmas vacation, if his team doesn’t get a bowl bid and he’ll be busy during vacation, and it looks like they will go to a bowl. Oh Sharon, he’s a big star on that team, and he’s so sweet.”

Sharon laughed. “I know, you’ve told me that a hundred times and you carry that picture of him in that football suit around in your purse. My God, girl, it sounds like you’re in love.”

Karen blushed, realizing how infatuated she was with Mark Hamilton, how she yearned to smell the sweat of his body and the moisture from his lips again. An image of him dressed as Hamlet flashed into her mind, seeing again his muscular legs encased in the white tights of the costume, his broad shoulders framed in the coat and his troubled face as the Prince of Denmark. How she desired him.

“But I don’t know if he loves me?”

“And so you’re keeping this boy Gabe in reserve, just in case? And now you find this Aaron kid sweet, too?”

“They’re both so nice, Sharon. And they seem to like me, too.”

“That’s no good,” Sharon said firmly, almost shouting it out like a reprimand. “Look, you’re just 18 years old, and you have an education to get. A pretty girl like you will never be without boyfriends, so you don’t want to hurry this along.

“Take it from me. I got pregnant with my Kerry at age 16 and dropped out of school and I thought that Kerry’s father was the love of my life. Hell, in a year, he was gone to Lord knows where and two years later, feeling sorry for myself, I got involved with Gary who stuck around just long enough to give me my Jamie. Well, Kerry’s ready to graduate from high school, and I hope she gets a scholarship, since I can’t afford college for her. Yet, she says she’s in love with this dropout, and I’m worried about her. I put the foot down on Jamie and you’ve met her. She’s 16 now and doesn’t have a boyfriend. And, if I have anything to say about it, she won’t think about boys seriously until she’s graduated college.”

Karen sat transfixed at this stern lecture given by Sharon.

“I think of you almost as my own daughter, Karen,” Sharon continued. “You have so much to offer the world, regardless of which road you take, whether in dramatics or in social work. Don’t get tangled up with men just yet. You’ll have plenty of time.”

The two sat silently for a moment.

“You’re right, Sharon.” It was all Karen to think of to say.

“Look, girl, you should date and meet up with guys for fun, but just don’t get serious. You do have one benefit over my daughters: at least you can’t get pregnant.”

Karen laughed. “I guess that’s true, but Sharon I would love to be able to be a mother. I’ve dreamed about it so often.”

“My dear Karen,” Sharon said, tears forming in her eyes. “I have to admit becoming a mother were the two most joyous times of my life, in spite of the pain of birth and trials over raising two kids alone.”

Karen’s eyes also filled with tears. She knew she’d never experience the ultimate joy of motherhood.

*****
“Men are no good, Karen,” Claire Livingston said as she gunned her Ford Focus sedan along the smooth, blacktopped two-lane highway that was flanked by rolling farm fields, farmhouses and steel outbuildings that were replacing the traditional red barn.

Karen looked at the speed-o-meter, already hitting 75 miles an hour — 20 miles over the limit — as the girl drove along the empty highway. There was little traffic, Karen realized, since it was Sunday afternoon and the Green Bay Packers were playing football, leaving the roadways bereft of cars whose drivers were obviously at home or in bars watching their beloved team play. That’s why her brother, Sonny, his eyes focused on the TV screen, barely managed a gruff “bye” as she left. She gave him a sisterly kiss, which he brushed away like he would a pesky fly.

For the first hour of the trip, Claire, a husky girl with a plain, round face, had complained again about her boyfriend. “I think he’s going back to that slut he knew in high school,” she said.

“Why do you think that?” Karen asked, not out of any true curiosity, but merely to keep the girl company.

“Well, he’s cancelled our ski trip over the Christmas vacation to the Porcupines for one thing, saying he’s gotta be home in Winona for the holidays. It’s that Cindi girl, I know it.”

“Maybe his family wants him home, Claire,” Karen said.

“He don’t care a hoot about his family. It’s that Cindi. She’s a hot little number — not as pretty as you mind you — but not a plain old cow like me.”

Karen looked at the speedometer, now nearing 80, with a curve coming up ahead.

“Hey, you better slow down, Claire,” she said almost in desperation.

“Oh?” Claire said, glancing at the speedometer. “My God, I didn’t realize it. I’m so mad at the bastard.”

Karen let out a sigh of relief as Claire let up on the gas pedal and the car slowed to a more reasonable, but still illegal, 65 miles an hour.

“And Claire, you’re a very attractive girl,” Karen said.

“You’re just saying that. I’m big as a cow.”

“Listen, Claire, you are a tall, strong girl, stronger than most boys I bet and you’re an athlete, a star soccer player,” Karen said. “But you’re also an attractive woman with an intelligent face and lively disposition. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

Claire glanced at Karen and then negotiated the curve cleanly. She was indeed an accomplished driver, Karen felt, and relaxed a bit.

“You mean that, don’t you, Karen?”

“I do. Really.”

“I feel like I’m about to cry,” Claire said. “Coming from you, such a pretty girl, that’s so sweet to hear. You must have plenty of boys after you.”

“Not so many.”

“Well, my brother Aaron hasn’t stopped talking about you since your date Friday night. Did you enjoy it, Karen?”

“He’s very nice,” Karen said.

“Thank you for going out with him,” Claire said. “He’s not very good with girls. He’s so shy. I just thought you might like him just a little bit. He’s not the hottest boy around.”

Karen was shocked to hear a girl talk so despairingly about a brother, since she had found Aaron to be a pleasant, smart and friendly boy.

“Oh, Claire, I think Aaron has lots going for him,” Karen said. “He’s one of the first boys I’ve been able to talk with about all sorts of things. He’s really very smart.”

“He said the same about you, and he said he never realized a girl could be so beautiful and smart at the same time.”

“I think he’s exaggerating a bit,” Karen said with a smile.

“He really wants to be your boyfriend, Karen,” Claire said. “He’s never had a real girlfriend, you know.”

Karen didn’t answer and turned her head to look at the building in the main street of the small town through which they were driving, her gaze landing on a half dozen or so teens gathered outside an ice cream shop, two of the prettiest girls smoking cigarettes. She hated to see girls smoking. It didn’t seem ladylike to her.

“What do you say about that Karen? Could you be his girlfriend?” Claire pressed.

“Oh, I like Aaron, a lot, really, but I’m not ready for the boyfriend-girlfriend thing yet, Claire. I’ll be happy to spend some time with him over the Christmas holidays, just as friends, OK?”

“I think that’s fair, Karen.”

The conversation stopped as Claire began to enter the busier streets of the University’s home city. Karen wondered whether it was time to tell Claire about her gender background. She didn’t feel it correct to continue to lead the girl or her brother on further without letting them know the truth.

“Here’s your street,” Claire said, pulling up to Karen’s residence, which was marked with a simple sign, etched out of wood that read, “Susan’s Place.”

“Thank you for the ride,” Karen said, putting off the time to tell of her gender. She had already paid Claire the $10 she requested as her share of the gas.

Karen was nearly out of the door when Claire asked, “By the way, what kind of place is this house. It looks kind of special.”

“It is,” Karen said. She sat back down on the passenger’s seat, and closed the door. “I better tell you everything now, Claire.”

“Oh?” Clair said, mystified.

“You see, I was born a boy and Susan’s Place is for students like me who are transitioning into being a woman,” Karen began, her voice soft and precise.

“A boy?”

“Yes, Claire, and right now I still have my boy equipment.”

“But, a boy? I can’t believe it. A boy, but you’re so . . . ah . . . ah . . pretty, and dainty and feminine. You’re about the girliest girl I know.”

Karen smiled. “Thank you. I like to hear that.”

“Well you are.”

“I feel you and Aaron should know about me and if he or you never want to see me again, that’ll have to be OK, even though I like both of you a lot.”

Claire just looked at Karen in puzzlement. She shook her head, as if confused. “I don’t know what to say, Karen, but I’m sure Aaron will be disappointed. You just impressed him so much and I’d never seen him so turned on by anyone or anything until he met you.”

“I’m sorry,” was all Karen could think of to say.

“Does he have your cell phone number, Karen?”

“Yes, he does,” she said. “I think he put it on his contact list.”

“Ok, I’m going to have him call you later tonight and you can tell him yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” Karen repeated, stepping out of the car.

As the door closed, Claire gunned the car, leaving Karen standing at the curb with her carryon suitcase, cosmetics case and purse. She felt like crying.

*****
“Oh darling, you’re back,” Ramini said, rising from her desk and moving to give Karen a sisterly hug even before Karen could set down her luggage.

Karen could not help but smile, seeing her eager and petite roommate, her long black hair tied into a bun atop her head. “How was your weekend, Ramini?” Karen asked, placing her luggage on her bed and removing her fleece-lined violet colored winter coat and the wool cap.

“Daddy was not happy with me, but my mother was so excited to have a daughter in the house, Karen. It was so cool, I learned all about some traditional Indian dishes. I loved it. Mother would never let me in the kitchen before, telling me that in Indian households only women spend time in the kitchen.”

“How sweet, Ramini!”

“I sat there and gossiped with my aunts and my girl cousins. At first they were kind of cool toward me, but soon they were treating me just like one of them.”

The girl was literally beaming as she related her first weekend home as a girl.

“And the men wouldn’t let me hang around with them. It was so cool. My cousin, Arun, told me to ‘get in the kitchen and that girls weren’t welcome with men.’ And he used to be my favorite cousin.”

Karen and Ramini hugged and kissed, tumbling onto Karen’s bed and wrapping their arms and legs around each other. Their embraces were warm and sisterly, comforting each of them; their kisses were gentle and sweet; their caresses bordered on being sensual, but that was as far as it went. They were girl friends, plain and simple.

*****
Gabe called after the two girls got back to their room after supper; the weather had turned into a damp chill, and snow was threatened later in the evening. Karen and Ramini had worn their hoods tied tightly to their heads as they walked back from the pizza place where they each opted for salads and garlic bread with diet drinks. Despite her petite frame, Ramini tended to develop a chubby tummy and that bothered her, since she wanted so badly to wear a bikini in the following summer.

Karen was uneasy, worrying about how she’d tell Aaron, sweet, gentle Aaron, that she was still, anatomically at least, a boy. She dreaded the phone call, finally confessing to Ramini about the entire incident.

“Just tell him straight-out, Karen,” the Indian girl suggested. “Make it almost the first thing out of your mouth after you say hello.”

“I guess that’s right, but I don’t want to shock him, Rami,” Karen said, using a shortened version of the girl’s name.

“No, of course, not, but dear maybe you should say something like, ‘Aaron, I’ve got something to tell you that may bother you, but I’ve got to tell you the truth about me.’ And he’ll probably say something like, ‘Oh, you got another boyfriend,’ or ‘You’re not sick or anything.’ Then you would say something like, ‘No, nothing like that, it’s that I’m different from most girls. You see, I was born a boy but I feel I am a girl and I live as a girl.’ Maybe something like that.”

“But he’ll get mad at me,” Karen said.

“No that’s the best way, Karen. Be direct with him. There’s no dodging the truth, dear.”

Karen nodded, her mind racing over what she’d say, wondering how she’d respond to Aaron’s concerns. Then, she remembered how Gabe acted at first; yet, he soon understood and now he had become one of her closest friends.

When the phone buzzed in her purse just as the two girls entered their room from supper, Karen’s heart began pumping hard. Still in her winter coat, she plunged into the purse, finally freeing her cell phone from her purse by the third ring to see that Gabe was the caller.

She calmed down, and answered it, still breathing hard. “Oh Gabe, it’s you,” she said in a strained voice.

“Karen, I’m so glad you got back before the storm,” Gabe said. “I was worried about you. Are you all right?”

“Sure, why?”

“Well, you sound so strained or something.”

“My roomie and I just got back from supper and I’m still in my coat.”

“I missed you, Karen.”

“I missed you, too, Gabe,” she said. She was not being totally truthful; since her weekend had been so busy she had little time to think about him.

“Can I come over and we can go out somewhere for a little while, Karen?”

“Oh, Gabe, I’d love that, but I was so busy this weekend that I didn’t get that paper done,” she said. “I better do that tonight. Maybe we can get together tomorrow night.”

Gabe didn’t push the issue, and Karen was happy, since she again told a half-truth. She did have a paper to do, but it wasn’t due until Friday, and she had time to get to it. She hated herself for these half-truths she was using, but she felt she was being nice to Gabe. After all, he was such a sweet boy.

*****
Aaron’s call came at 9:30 and he was apologetic, saying he didn’t get his sister’s message until he returned to his dorm room at St. Albert’s.

“But what’s so important? My sister said I should call you tonight,” he began.

Karen repeated what she and Ramini had worked out should be her message. There was silence on the other end; it seemed an eternity, but at least Aaron hadn’t hung up.

“You’re a boy?” Aaron said finally, his voice full of astonishment. “But how? You can’t be. You’re . . . ah . . . so dainty and, damn, you can’t be a boy.”

“Well, I am, but I’ve felt like I was a girl all my life, Aaron, and I felt you should know about me now, before we became too close as friends.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“I’m sorry, Aaron, but I guess I’m considered to be transgendered. You’ve heard of that?”

“Yes, of course. You’re like a drag queen then?”

Karen wanted to giggle, thinking of herself as one of those overly made-up, garish queens wearing beehive wigs, but she knew better than to belittle his reaction.

“Not exactly, Aaron. Most drag queens are men who just want to dress up as women and be showy. In my case, I’m a boy who is really a girl in my mind, instincts and even in some physical ways, but I do have a penis, though it’s not as big as most guys. Apparently, my X and Y chromosomes have a more feminine tilt to them.”

“Oh, I guess I’ll have to look into this and get to know more.”

“There’s plenty on the internet about this Aaron,” she suggested.

Aaron said he’d do some studying on the subject, and then asked: “Did you tell my sister about yourself?”

“Yes, and I should have told you first, I know, but she asked about the place were I live, and realized it was for girls like me. So I told her.”

“I bet she’s laughing at me. I never had a real girlfriend before, and now I was hoping you’d be my girlfriend. And you’re not a girl at all. I talked about you all weekend. Oh, everyone’ll laugh at me. I’m always a loser with girls.”

“You’re not a loser, Aaron,” she said. “You’re one of the nicest, smartest boys I’ve ever met. I truly enjoyed our short time together, and would like to continue to be friends with you.”

“You’re so pretty, Karen,” he said. “I would love to take you out, maybe to a dance or dinner or something nice.”

“I’d love that, too.”

“But I can’t now,” he said.

“We can still be friends.”

“Maybe, bye, Karen.” Aaron abruptly left, and Karen felt sad. She knew Aaron would likely cry himself to sleep tonight.

“How’d he take it?” Ramini said, having heard Karen’s side of the conversation.

“Not too good, and I feel bad. He’s such a vulnerable boy. He said he had hoped I’d become his first-ever girlfriend.”

Ramini hugged Karen assuring her that she’d done the right thing and that if Aaron was as nice as Karen said, he’d eventually find a nice girl. They fell asleep in each other’s arms — girlfriends together.