and soon discovers he may not be who he thought he was!
Marcia and Me
Chapters 4 - 6
Copyright © 1999, 2015 by Rebecca Anderson
All Rights Reserved.
Author's Note: Hi, This is the second story I've ever written. It's still incomplete. I hope you like it.
Feel free to archive or otherwise distribute, provided it (and this preamble) is unedited and no fee is charged for access. This story may not be distributed from any site that charges money, is members-only, or uses that ridiculous "adult check" thing (or any similar system).
All rights reserved by the author, who can be contacted at: [email protected] ~Becky
Image Credit: Picture purchased and licensed for use from 123RF.com Stock Photography.
The model(s) in this image is in / and are no way connected with this story nor supports nor conveys the issues and situations brought up within the story. The model(s) use is solely used for the representation of looks of the main character(s) of this particular story. ~Sephrena
Chapter 4. Saturday Evening
I got undressed and wore the fluffy robe to the bathroom. Rob saw me again as I was going in, and I could feel his eyes on me as I entered. Inside, I did as Marcia had instructed. I tied my hair up so as not to get it wet again, then ran the shower. In the shower I did as Marcia had instructed and shaved my legs for the first time. I really didn't need to, because the hairs I had were blonde, but than again no-one would notice when I went back to guy mode anyway. I also shaved the little bit of fuzz under my arms. As I got out of the shower I studied my reflection in the mirror. I certainly didn't need to shave my face. There wasn't even any fuzz there.
Looking at my reflection, I wondered what was wrong with me. Here I was, fifteen, and it was like puberty was only a distant dream of the future for me. My voice hadn't broken yet, I had no adam's apple, I was still mostly hairless, and Marcia was taller than I was - I even had slightly smaller feet! When my mom took me to the doctor six months ago he'd said there was nothing to worry about, that it would all happen in time, but the question was, how much time?
I used some of the powder Marcia had suggested, then wrapped myself in the robe again and headed back to Marcia's bedroom.
"Okay," she said when she saw me. "Say, you look cute with your hair in a ponytail like that. That gives me an idea. But first, come sit over here." I did, and she gave me some moisturizer to apply to my arms and legs. Then she began filing my nails, which were not especially long but were kind of untidy.
Then she bent down and did my feet. "Kneel, slave," I joked, and she made a face. She reached up to the dresser, and retrieved a small bottle of a silvery nail polish, which she began to apply to my toes. "Don't you think that color's a bit over the top?" I asked, but she laughed and told me it was easily the coolest color around at the moment. So much for my powers of observation.
As the polish was drying Marcia went and had a shower herself, giving me strict instructions not to move. She laid out a magazine on the dressing table in front of me, it was a pretty crappy read but I learned a bit about applying makeup from it. When she came back into the room, wrapped only in a towel, I stopped reading. I was pretending not to look at her body. Of course I was pretty terrible at pretending, and as she applied some moisturizer to her own legs she looked up at me and smiled.
"Um," I said, "do you want me to leave the room?"
"I think my family would think that was kind of strange, don't you?" Marcia grinned. "You're just going to have to get used to being one of the girls. Okay? Think of it as training." And with that, she dropped the towel entirely and went over to the bed, where she'd laid out some clothes and lingerie for both of us.
I really couldn't do anything except stare. Marcia had a fantastic body. And I had never seen a real live naked woman before. Perhaps she was aware of how difficult it was for me to pretend not to be looking, because she faced away from me as she put on her bra and panties, but not before I'd had a good look at her wonderful breasts and the downy hair between her legs.
"Uh, Marcia, you probably know this, but you're really very beautiful."
She walked over toward me and smiled. "That's very sweet of you, but most girls my age look like this. Becky looks a lot better, you should see her. But enough of me, more of you. Drop the robe, and give me a look."
I was embarrassed, but I did as she asked. I thought I looked very strange, with my fingers and toes adorned in silver and my hair up and my scrawny little body. My penis stood to attention, and I blushed. I knew it wasn't very big, and I knew she knew that, too, but was too nice to say anything.
"You look sweet," said Marcia, and kissed me on the forehead again. "But we better hurry." She led me to the bed, and pointed to the lingerie she'd laid out for me. "Try that on." she said. I pulled on the panties. They looked very strange with my penis trying to make a tent out of them at the front. Marcia looked puzzled for a moment, then disappeared for a moment and came back from the bathroom with a very cold damp washcloth, which she had me hold against my penis until it subsided.
"How'd you know how to do that?" I asked, but she waved me on to the task at hand. I tucked myself back in my panties so that there was no bulge at the front, then tried on the bra. This one was flimsier than the one I'd worn earlier in the day.
Then Marcia handed me two very strange objects, little flesh-coloured pieces of quivering jelly. "Put these inside the cups." I looked at her quizzically as I did so, and as she adjusted them in the cups of the bra she said "I borrowed these from Becky this afternoon, though she doesn't know it yet -- I snuck into her room when I went to the bathroom. She used to wear these a few years ago, before she blossomed out like she has. Not that she ever admitted it to anyone, but you can tell when you see a lot of someone. They're only meant to enhance breasts, not substitute for them, but you're skinny enough to look good with small breasts, and they'll feel real if anyone gets gross enough to try feeling you up. This old bra is a cup size too small for me, but it's pretty and it'll hold them properly."
Whoa! There was too much in those last few sentences of hers for me to absorb. She'd planned that I would go out with her tonight all along, or else she wouldn't have thought to 'borrow' those things from Becky. She stole something from her friend. And she was talking about me getting felt up. As if.
"Time to reverse this 'slave' thing you were so into. Sit," Marcia commanded. She was going to start in on my makeup. but I stopped her and started applying it myself. She watched me bemusedly.
"I read that article," I said, pointing to the magazine, "and I saw what you did today."
"Okay, whatever," she said. "Just remember, less is more, especially with skin like yours. You want to accent your eyes more than your lips, I think. Your lips are pretty full. So it's paler lipstick for you."
She watched me doing the makeup, correcting me a couple of times, then quickly did her own before turning to work on my hair. Using a curling iron again and a lot of spray, she put my hair up at the crown, then pulled a few curly tendrils down to soften the look. I was amazed at the effect, I thought it was just my long hair making me look like a girl before, but I guess it was the makeup, too, even though I didn't look like I was wearing much.
Marcia brushed her own hair out, and let it run loose across her back. Leading me across to the bed, she held out a pair of pantyhose and a bit of black material I could only assume was a dress, then began to pull on a pair of pantyhose herself. I tried to watch what she was doing, and succeeded in getting them on even if they felt a bit twisted. Marcia bent down and straightened them a little for me, then held the dress over my head. It was a light jersey, which clung to me as she lowered it over my newfound curves and flared over my hips. Then she pulled a red dress over her own shoulders, and I helped her do the buttons up at the back.
Finally she passed me a pair of black shoes, kind of mary jane style but with an open back and a 2" heel. I put them on, and took a couple of steps. They felt like a pretty good fit.
I looked at us both in the mirror. Once again, it didn't look like me. Maybe I'd been in my 'Cousin It' phase far too long. I looked ... well ... amazing. I looked really pretty. The dress hugged me without being too revealing, though it was very short. I looked across at Marcia and smiled, then blushed.
"Yeah, I know, it's disgusting that a boy can look so much better than a girl, isn't it?" Marcia said, smiling back.
"You don't think it's a bit much for a party like this?" I asked a little timidly.
"Okay, you get the denim," she passed me a cropped and faded denim jacket. "That'll dress it down just a little. I'll take Mike's jacket," she said as she picked up a leather jacket that was way too big for her. "We probably won't need them, anyway, it's pretty mild."
When did she get that, I wondered. Obviously Marcia and Mike were more serious about one another than I'd known if he was doing things like giving her his jacket to wear.
"They'll be here in a few minutes, we better hurry," Marcia said, handing me a pair of earrings.
"Uh, I ..." I stopped, holding the earrings. Marcia looked at me and realized.
"Oh, right, they're not pierced. Um, I don't have any clip-ons, I've had my ears pierced since I was eleven. Uh, wait here."
She left the room, and I could hear her running down the stairs. I took the time to take stock of my appearance again. I really hoped this was going to be as convincing as the way I looked earlier in the day, or I was going to have a lot of trouble with the jocks at the party. I thought I looked great. Really. But then I had the feeling my judgment was very faulty today. Still, I had fooled everyone earlier in the day. I lifted my hands to my breasts, and squeezed. Marcia was right, they felt very real. And although they looked small, it kind of fitted in with the rest of my skinny body and the clothes she had dressed me in.
Marcia came bounding back into the room with a needle and a potato, and said "this is gonna hurt a bit."
"You're gonna pierce my ears?"
"If you take the earrings out tonight and disinfect the earlobes they'll heal right over. No-one will notice."
She was right, it hurt a lot. I felt like my ears were on fire as she attached some small silver hoops to them. Then she gave me a couple of silver bracelets, a chain for my neck and a thin watch with a tiny black band.
Finally, we were ready. Marcia led me downstairs to wait for the guys. As we came into the living room I stopped dead in my tracks. My mom was sitting talking to the Wilsons. Marcia stopped, too, clearly at a loss for what to do.
Mr. Wilson stood up. "Uh, Kath, this is Jenny, a friend of Marcia's. Jenny, this is Katherine Miller, our neighbor. Wow! You both look terrific. You girls want a seat while you're waiting?"
I wanted to die. I wanted the floor to eat me, I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, I'm sure I looked really strange.
I could see from the expression on my mother's face that she knew instantly who I was, and so could Marcia.
"Nice to meet you ... Jenny," said my Mom kind of stiffly.
There was a kind of embarrassed silence.
Finally Marcia came to the rescue again. Sort of. "Mom, Dad, I hate to drag you away, but could I talk to you in the kitchen for a moment? It's important."
"Okay honey," said Mrs. Wilson, a little puzzled, and they all moved into the kitchen. "We'll be right back," she said to my Mom and I as they left.
There was a very strained silence.
"Jenny?" my mother said.
"That was Marcia," I said.
"And everything else?" She indicated all that I was wearing. "And what happened to your hair?"
"Um, we sort of bleached it."
My mom looked shocked. She slumped in her seat.
"Uh, I'm sorry, mom," I said.
She looked up at me, as though seeing me for the first time. "Are you enjoying this? How long have you two been doing this? How come the Wilson's don't know? How..."
Her voice trailed off.
"It's only been today, Mom, honest, it's just a bit of fun and it's kind of gotten a bit out of control. It was easier to let it go with the Wilsons than explain, really."
"Is this a sex thing?" she asked me.
"Mom, it's not anything, it's just fun, okay." Outside I could hear a car coming up the drive.
"You're not doing drugs are you?"
"Mom! Gimme a break!"
"Well, I must say, for whatever it's worth, you do it well. I almost didn't recognize you."
"Can you just go along with it for a little while? It'll all be over soon."
"I know you haven't been happy, but I didn't know it had come to this." She shook her head.
There was an awkward silence as she looked me over more carefully.
"I think I need some time to think about this," Mom said.
"Well, I have to go out," I said. "Maybe we can talk about it tomorrow?"
"Out," Mom repeated, as though in a trance. She put her head back in her hands. I sat down. Then the Wilsons re-entered the room with Marcia. Mrs. Wilson looked at my mother and said "What's wrong, Kath?"
Mom straightened up. "Oh, it's nothing, I was just explaining to ... uh, Jenny ... that I've got a terrible headache all of a sudden."
"You do look a little pale," said Mrs. Wilson.
There was a knock at the door. Marcia ran to answer it. Then she came back into the room. "Jen? Our ride is here."
Mike came into the room behind her, followed by Paul. I could see both of them pause a moment when they saw me, but they were both trying to impress Mr. and Mrs. Wilson.
"Mom, Dad, you know Mike, this is Paul, and this is our neighbor, Mrs. Miller," said Marcia.
I could see my Mom's radar had gone up as soon as the boys had entered the room. Now she was clearly gonna blow a gasket. After everything else, Marcia and I were gonna get into a car with a couple of boys. With me dressed like this. She looked across at me, and I could see something in her eyes I'd never noticed before, a kind of fear. But she didn't say anything, and after Mr. Wilson and Mike had exchanged a few pleasantries we left the house. As we were leaving I could hear my mother saying that she thought she'd go home and lie down.
Chapter 5. Saturday Night
Paul held open the back door of Mike's car for me, then got into the back seat with me. I smoothed out the back of my dress as I sat down, then tried to get the hem a little further down my legs than it wanted to go. Paul noticed me tugging at it, looked at my legs and grinned. I smiled at him, and he said quietly "You look pretty spectacular tonight."
"Um, thanks," I said, blushing. It felt weird when he said that. I liked it. And although I felt nervous when he looked at me, I kind of liked that, too. It wasn't crude or anything, like when Rob had looked at me. Despite all my nervousness, Paul put me at ease.
We drove off. "We thought we'd go to that Italian place, if you girls are up for it," said Mike. I realized that - contrary to what Marcia had said earlier - this was definitely gonna be a date, not just a bunch of us going to a party. We drove back down Main Street until we came to a little cafe at the end of the shopping strip. Inside it was nice, but casual. I hadn't eaten out for ages, Mom and I couldn't afford to, so I really didn't have a lot to compare it to, but it felt comfortable. As we sat down Marcia whispered to me "How was your Mom?"
"Don't ask," I said, and we looked at one another guiltily.
We ordered some food and a couple of sodas. Mike and Marcia did most of the talking, but I did learn that Paul was a senior like Mike, and that he wasn't only the jock he looked like, he was also editor of the school paper and he was really smart. Mike kidded him from time to time about being a rocket scientist, but Paul just took it all in stride. He seemed pretty quiet most of the time, but I was very conscious of how near he was to me, and that he kept stealing glances at me. I tried to eat in a restrained manner, copying Marcia in the way she moved and the way she took small bites. If I hadn't still been a bit nervous I could have eaten a lot more, but I ordered an appetizer size and, like Marcia, ended up leaving some of that, too.
Paul asked me a couple of questions about myself, so I stuck to the line Marcia had used with Becky earlier in the day, that I was visiting the town with my Mom while we thought about whether we wanted to live there. I tried to keep the rest of my life pretty much as it was, until he asked me where I was going to go to school.
"I guess I'll go to the same school as all of you," I said, wanting to change the subject. I was still in junior high, but I already knew a whole lot more about the high school than I wanted to, courtesy of a couple of guys who beat me up one afternoon "for being a fag."
Eventually Marcia said to me "Wanna check out the ladies room?" I knew from the tone of her voice that it wasn't a request so much as a command, so we made our excuses and went together. There were only two stalls, and we were the only ones in there. I hiked up my dress and sat down, then Marcia said from the stall next to me "I'm really sorry about your mom, Jenny."
"I didn't know what to say," I said. "She seemed pretty upset. I think. But maybe surprised more than upset. I think she blames herself for me having gone astray or something." We both giggled.
As we came out of the stalls at about the same time I said "So, did you tell your parents?"
"Huh?" said Marcia.
"Wasn't that what the 'important' discussion in the kitchen was about?" I asked.
"Of course not! I was telling them that I needed them to be flexible about tonight. Usually they make me get home by midnight, but I explained that this was a big party and since there were a few of us going together it would be better if they could allow me to be a bit later. It always takes a while to have that discussion, because my Dad always feels the need to tell me it's for my own good and all that. I wasn't going to ask them that, tonight, but I figured it was a way for you and your Mom to have a talk."
We fixed our lipstick and hair, and headed back out to see the boys. "I think Paul is more than a bit smitten," said Marcia quietly as we approached the table. "I'd watch myself if I was you."
The guys paid the bill and we left the cafe. Mike drove up through the hills to the Convey's house, which was absolutely enormous. There were a lot of cars around, and it took Mike a while to find somewhere to park his enormous old 70's car.
As we went in the noise was deafening. Becky was over by the CD player, I think she was the one responsible for putting on the Nine Inch Nails and the guy next to her wasn't happy about it. Denise, the girl whose house it was, came up to Marcia and gave her a hug, then nodded to me like she'd like to kill me. She turned and gave Mike an enormous smile, though, and actually gave Paul a kiss on the cheek. Uh huh. Well, that explained the look. Marcia introduced her to me, but I don't think Denise caught my name in all the noise.
Mike disappeared into the kitchen as we walked through the living room. I knew who most of the people were, but I'd never spoken to any of them at school. For a start they were almost all seniors, and anyway even the kids in my own year mostly didn't speak to me. But everyone smiled and spoke to Marcia. Eventually Mike came back with some beers for himself and Paul and some wine for Marcia and me. I took a sip. I'd only tasted wine once before, at my cousin Beth's wedding. It seemed okay, kind of sweet.
Mike and Marcia went off in search of some drugs, and Paul introduced me to some of his friends. They mostly seemed very nice, except one guy who undressed me with his eyes instead of really talking to me. One of Paul's friends was a tall, thin guy named Steve, who had a goatee and looked impossibly cool for someone who was still at high school. He and I had a great time trying to have a conversation about music above the noise, and he tried to explain to me how the playlists on radio got compiled. He was sweet, but kind of earnest. I made him laugh a lot, which was fun. Paul told me later I'd made a really big impression on the coolest guy in the school.
I danced a couple of times with Paul, who said he usually felt awkward dancing, and then a couple of times with Marcia and Mike, and then Steve. Paul wandered off to talk to other people from time to time, which was good because I didn't want to feel under pressure like I was his girlfriend or anything, although it seemed that's what everyone else at the party had decided. .
I spent time talking to Becky after she surrendered control of the CD player to someone a little less interesting. She had taken some ecstasy a little while earlier, so our conversation didn't go a long way, but she was extremely friendly and kind of falling all over me. Steve took her off to find her boyfriend Brad, and I had a little quiet time to myself. That was good, I needed to collect my thoughts.
It sure was turning out to be a strange day. Here I was, having a terrific time with a bunch of people who normally wouldn't give me the time of day, but I was popular and they all seemed to want to talk and dance with me.
I went into the den, where people were passing around joints. Paul came up behind me and put his arm around me.
"Want some?" he asked, handing me one.
"Sure," I said, and took a drag on it as though I'd been smoking all my life. Of course I sent myself into a coughing fit, and everyone laughed, but in a good natured way, and Paul took me into a nearby room to recover.
It was a bedroom, I noticed through my running eyes. I sat on the edge of the bed and Paul sat down next to me. He was still smiling broadly after having laughed a lot. "Well, that was a good idea. Not," he said, rubbing my shoulders. "I guess you're not a smoker, huh?"
"Not really," I said quietly.
"Good for you," he said, and put his arm around me. "I don't do it much any more, except now and again at parties. And I don't smoke tobacco"
"I hate the smell of tobacco," I said. I was conscious of how close he and I suddenly were.
"You smell good," he said quietly. "Not too much perfume, you smell clean. It's good"
I was nervous, and he could feel it. He stroked my neck, where some of my hair had come loose a little from the rest and was hanging in little blonde wisps over my collar. Then he turned my head towards his and kissed me.
It was surprising. I'd had two kisses in one day, but this was very different from the one Marcia had given me. His mouth felt hungry as he moved his lips on mine, and I could feel an urgency in him. I liked it. I felt like he wanted me, and I liked that, too. I stiffened at first, but then I relaxed, and when he finished, and stroked my face lightly with his fingertips, I could see in his eyes a certain kindness, a gentleness, and I knew he'd enjoyed it as well. He kissed me again, and then again. After the third kiss I rested my head on his shoulder. Then he gently moved his hand to my breast, and I jumped a little. I still didn't feel very secure about that, no matter what Marcia said.
I got up from the bed. "We should go back with the others," I said.
He stood in front of me. "It's okay, relax," Paul said softly. "Tell me, how old are you, anyway?"
"I'm sixteen," I lied. I figured it wasn't as big a lie as some other things he didn't know about.
"You're very beautiful, you know that," he said. I looked up into his eyes.
He really had nice eyes, I thought. Then I caught myself. What was I thinking? I was making out with a guy, and I was enjoying it! This was utterly insane.
"And you're probably the sweetest thing I've ever met," he said softly. "How come you can be so smart about some things and be so innocent about others?"
He kissed me again. This time, standing up, it was even better. He took me in his arms, and pressed me close to him. I could smell his masculine body, feel how hard he was, how strong. I almost swooned, but he held me.
"It's okay," he said, as he let me go. "This is great, but I want you to be comfortable. You let me know what feels right for you, okay?"
I couldn't believe it. I knew then that I was going to be in big trouble if I let him go any further. This guy wanted all of me, only he didn't know how much of me there was. I gave him a little kiss, just a small one, and was about to say something when there was a knock on the door and Marcia stuck her head around. She smiled an enormous smile when she saw us together.
"Hey, guys, you need a lift back with us? We're going pretty soon."
I looked at my watch. It was 1.00am. The night had flown by.
"We'll just be a moment," said Paul, and as Marcia closed the door he kissed me again. This time I could feel him run his hands up and down my back. He lowered one of his hands to my ass, and cupped it, while the other traced the line of my spine as far up as my neck. Then he bent and kissed the back of my neck. I almost crumpled, and I was shaking. I'd never felt anything as intense as that before. "Whoa," he said, "I think that's enough for now. Wow, you are a passionate little one, aren't you?" He put his arm around me and led me from the room.
The trip home was uneventful. Marcia told them I was going to stay over at her house. Paul had his arm around me, and stroked my arm with his free hand. It felt so wonderful I stopped thinking about how weird it all was. When we got to Marcia's house the boys got out of the car with us. Paul gave me another long and lasting kiss, while he lifted the hem of my dress and ran his hands over my ass.
"Can I call you?" he said finally.
"Of course," I said, and gave him my number without thinking. I separated from him, and he clasped my hand as he promised to call. I followed Marcia into the house and collapsed on one of the kitchen chairs as we came in.
"Well, that was a night to remember, huh?" said Marcia.
Chapter 6. Very Early Sunday Morning
I left Marcia's and walked the short distance to my house. The night was crisp, and the sky was very clear, with enough moonlight to see where I was going easily. Even though I felt a little tired from all the dancing, everything seemed amazingly fresh and new. The stars seemed brighter, and the sounds of the night clearer and sweeter. The noise my heels made on the paving sounded like music, and I skipped once or twice, listening to them, then tried to be quieter. As I walked up our drive I heard an owl off in the distance.
There were no lights on, so I opened the front door as quietly as I could and began tiptoeing down the hall. As I passed by the door to the living room I noticed a figure sitting in a chair, silhouetted in the moonlight. It was my Mom, of course. "How was your evening?" she said quietly.
"Uh," was all I could manage. What did she want me to say? "Good, I guess."
"Why didn't you tell me you felt this way?" Mom said.
Even though it was dark, I got the impression from the sound of her voice in the dark that she might have been crying earlier. I felt terrible. Mom and I had always been especially close, especially after Dad left. I know, although she could never have said it, that she felt she was partly to blame for him leaving, and she felt guilty about me not having a father around anymore. I didn't blame her at all, I kind of loved my father, but I could tell, even at a young age, that he was a difficult man to live with. Neither of us ever seemed able to please him. He never hit either of us or anything, but I could sense that I was an enormous disappointment to him because I wasn't good at sport and into the manly kinds of things he liked, and I know that the times my mother stuck up for me against his scorn he'd turned on her, instead. After he left she seemed distraught about a lot of things, especially money, but I could tell that she was also a bit relieved. I thought that relief meant that his leaving was definitely for the better. I would have done anything to make her happier -- I just wasn't always sure what that could be.
I definitely hated to think that it was because of me that she'd been crying.
"What way?" I asked.
"Well, the way you feel. That you enjoy dressing up as a girl. Do you like boys? Is that it?"
I had to pause for a minute. I wasn't sure what she meant. How did I feel? I didn't know. A lot of it felt good, but it was weird -- I was a boy, but ... I hadn't stopped to think about it properly, really.
She turned on the lamp next to her chair. It was probably not the best idea she ever had, because she was once again confronted with the way I was dressed. "Your ... lipstick ... is a bit smudged," she said, in a tone that indicated she knew exactly how it had gotten that way. I could see that my guess that she had been crying earlier in the night was right.
"I don't know, Mom. I really don't know." I sat on the floor at her feet and put my chin on my knees.
"Do you often dress like this?"
"This is the first time, Mom. Honest. It was just for fun. But it kind of got out of hand today."
"I'd say that was an understatement. How was the party? How did that boy ask you out? Did he know?"
"Did he know what?"
"That you're not a girl."
"No!" I said. I couldn't bear to think about that.
We sat in silence a little while longer.
"Mom, I honestly don't know why everything happened the way it did today. I'm really sorry I upset you, I didn't want you to find out -- "
" -- I'm glad I did -- "
"Well, I guess I am, too, I don't like having lots of secrets from you. But ... it was all kind of unexpected, really, Marcia was just fooling around with my hair and it all just kind of happened."
She put her hand on top of my head and played with the strands of hair that were falling around my face.
"You look very pretty," she said quietly. "I would never have guessed you'd turn out this way."
It sounded strange, coming from Mom. I wasn't sure I wanted her to think I was pretty.
"I guess ..." I swallowed, not really sure if I should say this "I guess I had a pretty good time. Everyone really likes me as Jenny. Much more than as Chris." She didn't say anything, so I went on. "And although it felt kind of weird at first, it got easier as the day went along. I think it's easier, being a girl."
Mom gave a little laugh of disbelief. She tilted my face up, to look at me. "It's not so easy," she said.
I shrugged. "It was okay."
"What about that boy?"
I blushed. "Paul? He's ... well, he's a nice guy."
"Were you attracted to him."
"No. Yes. No. I mean ..." My voice trailed off. "Yes, I guess so, though not at first. It was ..." I put my head down, blushing again.
"I know how it is," said Mom. She smiled a little. "But you haven't had much experience with girls. Or have you?"
"No," I admitted, "They don't seem to be very interested in me. I like them, I guess." I considered this some more, thinking about Marcia's kiss today. "Mom, does this mean I'm queer or something?"
"I don't know what it means."
"I think I like girls, like I like Marcia, but I like them in a kind of friendly way. I wouldn't want to do anything with Marcia, because then she mightn't be my friend."
"Well ..." She paused. "Maybe we should get you to see someone. Like a therapist or something. Would that help?"
I shook my head. I didn't know what I thought, I didn't think I could explain it to someone else. Besides, I knew we couldn't afford it. "I love you, Mom. You know that." I knelt and hugged her. "I won't do it again, I promise."
"That's not what I'm saying. If you enjoyed it so much, what does it mean?" she said. "I want you to be happy." She held my arms and looked me in the eyes. "I don't care if you're gay, or straight, or everything in between. But I know you haven't been happy at school, and I have been wondering when you'd start to show an interest in girls. I want you to be happy in everything."
"Mom, that's wonderful. You're great. But I don't know what I want."
We hugged for a while longer, and then she decided it was probably best if we both just slept on it and dealt with it in the morning. I kissed her goodnight and climbed the stairs.
I went to the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror again. I still couldn't get over the difference in the way I looked. I let down my hair, and was about to wash my face with some soap and water when my Mom appeared at the door.
"Use this" she said, handing me some cleansing cream. I tissued it off, and began to brush out my hair. That looked more like the old me, more of a mop. But whatever Marcia had done earlier in the day, my hairstyle was still clearly a feminine one.
And she had thinned out my eyebrows much more than she'd claimed. I was going to have to deal with all that tomorrow.
I took out the earrings, painfully, and swabbed my earlobes with some antiseptic. Then Mom came back with some small studs, that she pressed into my ears. I looked at her quizzically.
"You can decide later if you want them to close up," she said with a sad smile. She tousled my hair, and I walked off to my room.
There I carefully undressed, placing the lingerie and the dress carefully over a chair, and the funny fake breasts underneath the dress where they couldn't be seen. I pulled on the oversize t-shirt I always slept in and was asleep almost as soon as I hit the bed.
The last thing I can remember thinking about was the way Paul's hands felt on me when we kissed.
To Be Continued...
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