Ovid 8: The Team Pts 6-10 free porn video

Ovid 8 The Team By The Professor Part 6 Danny and I had spent most of the party talking to others and had spent very little time together. Maybe it was my imagination, but I suspected Danny was as uncomfortable being around me as I was being around him. We had been thrust into the role of a dating couple, and there were some real pitfalls to that. It might have been easier if we had barely known each other. If, say Austin Blake had been turned into Danny, it might have been easier for me, I thought. I knew very little about Austin, so it wouldn't be as difficult as it was with Larry. Larry and I had roomed together, played football together, caroused together, and spilled out guts to each other. But we had both been male then. Now I was a girl, and a girl who had done all the things with a guy that I had done with Larry would be close, indeed. As the party began to wind down, I asked Danny to take me home. He had really gotten in to the party. Although no longer a football hero, he found out he was one of the more popular guys in the class. I think he was actually enjoying it, but I wasn't. I was tired, and the makeup on my face felt like it had been there a month. Also, my tight jeans were rubbing where I didn't want them to rub, and even though I was lucky enough to not have to wear heels like a few of the girls had, my feet hurt in those flimsy flats. A tired scowl got his attention. Moments later, we were on our way to my house. Again, we didn't say a lot to each other. When Danny dropped me off at my house, "Well, good night," was all he managed to say. "Good night," I returned softly, climbing out of the car before an uncomfortable moment got any worse. He waited until I had the door to my new home open before driving away. He would never have done that before. There wouldn't have been any reason to do so. But now, he had to treat me like a girl. I was surprised he hadn't tried to kiss me good night. Then I was surprised at being a little disappointed that he hadn't tried. My parents were in bed already, so I managed to get ready for bed in silence. Wrapped up in my thoughts, it was essentially automatic, which was just as well since I would probably have botched removing my makeup. I only took over long enough to find some pajamas instead of a nightie. Even the pajamas were feminine, but at least not as frilly as a nightie. My thoughts were still on Danny. I would have to call him on Saturday and talk this out with him. I needed him. No, not that way. I mean, I needed him as a friend. He could help me through this mess since he knew me best of all my teammates. Also, as uncomfortable as I was being a girl around him, I knew it would be worse if I was a girl without a steady boyfriend. Every unattached guy in my class would be angling for a date with me. We had to find some level to deal with each other that we could both be comfortable with. I still had some hope that Coach Jessup would be able to figure something out. Darren - or rather Jennifer, whether she liked it or not - had said Coach Jessup was trying to organize something. Maybe we could all go to the Judge and ask to be changed back. If all of us went together, maybe we could reason with him. It was at least a thread of hope, I thought as I began to drift off to sleep. I awoke the next morning to the ringing of a phone. I had slept so soundly that it took me a moment to figure out where I was - or who I was for that matter. I grabbed the phone without thinking, muttering something which I hoped sounded like "hello." I was surprised to hear my feminine voice. "Hi, Sam, it's Jessica," the voice on the phone said cheerfully. "So are we going shopping today or what?" Three questions tumbled through my befuddled brain: who was Sam, why would I want to go shopping, and how could anybody be that cheerful in the morning? Then the answer to the first question lodged in my brain: I was Sam. It had been real and not a dream. I was really a fifteen year old girl now. As for the second, question, I guess I was expected to like shopping because I was a girl now. As for the third question, I guess Jessica was just that cheerful because the powers of Ovid had made her so. I sighed. "I don't know, Jessica. I've got a lot of homework to do." Actually that was true. I had looked in my assignments notebook while still at school and had noticed that Sam had a history test coming up on Tuesday and a paper due in English on Wednesday. Plus I needed to review algebra since it had been several years since I had really taken an algebra course. "Oh, come on," she wheedled. "Trina and Kelly and Darla are all going. My mom is going to drive." Except for Darla, none of the names had any meaning for me, but apparently, they were supposed to be friends of mine. Well, why not? I thought. I really never liked to shop as a guy, but I knew a lot of girls who did. I supposed it would be instructive since Jessica thought she had always been a girl. I could learn from a pro. "Oh, all right," I finally agreed, "but just for a little while." "Great! We'll be there to pick you up at ten. We're all wearing skirts so we can try stuff on." "Wait!" I called. "What time is it now?" "Eight thirty, silly." There was a click in my ear as she hung up. Well, that gave me an hour and a half to get ready and eat breakfast. No problem. I showered and dressed quickly. Jessica had suggested a skirt, so I abided by her suggestion. It was actually a little more comfortable than the tight jeans anyway. It looked like a warm day, so I chose a khaki skirt and a dark blue knit top. Sneakers with low cut crew socks seemed appropriate, and just because I was wearing a skirt, I saw no reason to wear pantyhose if I could avoid it. I made it to the breakfast table with time to spare. My new mother was seated at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in her hand as she read the morning Tulsa paper. "Have fun last night, dear?" Oh sure, I thought, pouring myself a glass of orange juice. I spent the whole evening in a tight pair of jeans while my former best friend had his arm around me and nearly kissed me. Such fun. "Yeah, it was fun," I said without enthusiasm. "Mom" frowned but said nothing more about it. "So are you still going shopping with the girls today?" "Yes," I replied, sipping my juice while I peeked at the front page of mom's paper. There was no mention of a missing football team, but I hadn't really expected to see one. It was as if the reality we had known had somehow been shifted, and the people we had been no longer existed. I could have confirmed this by calling my real family, but to be honest, I was afraid of what I would hear from them. Maybe I would try later, though. "Oh, Danny called while you were in the shower." "Oh?" Why was there a sudden sinking feeling in my stomach? "He wants you to call him back." "Okay," I said slowly as I checked the pantry until I found some Pop Tarts to munch on. My new mother sighed. "Honey, is there something wrong between you and Danny?" I looked at her, a little surprised. "What do you mean?" What I really meant was how can you tell? "It's just that you and Danny have been so close since last summer," she explained. "You're always saying 'Danny said this' and 'Danny did that.' I guess I thought Danny was someone special, that's all." "We're just friends," I replied, looking down at the newspaper again so I wouldn't have to look her in the eye. My face felt flushed, too. I hope I wasn't turning so red that she would notice. "Well, I know you're friends," she agreed. "A girl your age isn't really old enough to get all that serious about a boy, but you seemed to like Danny so much." "I do like him," I blurted out. "He's a friend." Can't we just be friends? I mean, why does everybody have to make such a big deal of it?" My eyes felt warm and moist. Was I starting to cry? That was too much. I was starting to cry over something as stupid as... as stupid as... Impulsively, I jumped up from the table and rushed upstairs. I looked in the mirror in the bathroom. It wasn't too bad. There was a little redness around my eyes, and my mascara needed minor repairs. It was still fifteen minutes until Jessica picked me up, so I had a few minutes to fix the damage. I didn't even really need to go on automatic. It wasn't that hard. I didn't see my mother come up behind me. "Are you okay?" she asked, causing me to actually jump a little. "Yes, I'm fine," I managed. "Samantha, Danny didn't do anything to upset you, did he?" It was a question I should have asked myself. The fact of the matter was that Danny had really done nothing out of sorts. Like me, he was just trying to play a role. The problem was that our roles now involved an element neither of us would have considered even possible a day before. Here we were, two fast friends, suddenly thrust into a relationship neither of us had asked for. No, Danny had done nothing to upset me. It was me who had upset me. I didn't know how to be a girl in a relationship like the one everyone expected of us, so instead of facing up to it, I had fled. It wasn't really very smart of me. "Well, did he?" "No, mom," I replied. "I'm sorry. Look, Danny didn't do anything. I'm just a little... unsure," I replied, for lack of a better word. She put her arm around me. Shade or not, she seemed solid enough. "Look, honey, that's the way it is with boys." "It...it is?" I asked, oddly comforted by her embrace. "Sure," she said with a smile. "Look, you've never really dated all that much, and never as long as you've dated Danny. He seems like a wonderful boy, but the two of you are both a little new at this. Just take it slowly and see what happens. Just make sure you keep the relationship from getting out of hand - sexually, I mean." "I would never let that happen!" I assured her, and I meant every word of it. The idea of somebody - anybody - getting in my pants was like something out of a nightmare. I would be a nun before I allowed that to happen - and I wasn't even Catholic! Or at least I never used to be. I wasn't sure what I was now. I touched up my makeup as best I could while my new mother did her best to make sure I didn't have sex with Danny - or any other boy for that matter. I tried not to listen. The thought of having a guy stick his dick into me was about as repugnant as any thought I could think of. My sister back in the real world had once told me how young girls sit around at slumber parties, pooling their meager knowledge on the act of sex. At first, they chorus "ew!" in disgust, but eventually, they reconcile themselves to the idea. Well sorry, but I couldn't see reconciling myself to doing that with a guy - ever. Suddenly there was the honk of a horn in the driveway. "Gotta go," I said, relieved that Jessica had arrived early so I could leave before I got more warnings on avoiding sex. I hoped my makeup looked alright. It would just have to do. "Samantha, don't forget your purse!" my mother called out. Damn, it was going to be a pain remembering that all the time. As Jace, I had ridden in cars driven by drunken teammates as we drifted along the roads of Northwest Missouri. But nothing had prepared me for riding down the streets of Ovid while the driver - a girl who had just turned sixteen - paid more attention to the distractions caused by other girls in the car than she did to the traffic on the roads. I thanked God that Ovid was a small town, and it only took about five minutes until we were parking in front of a three story building whose sign declared it to be March's Department Store. Well, I supposed since Ovid was probably too small for a mall, hanging around a department store on a Saturday was the next best thing. We all piled out of the car and headed into the store. At least I knew Jessica and Darla. Trish and Kelly were new to me, though. Both were shades; Trish was a willowy brunette while Kelly had long blonde hair and a figure that although still developing at fifteen was well on its way to being voluptuous. I was happy to let Jessica lead the way since I had no idea how the store was laid out. Darla and I hung back while the other girls attacked the clothing racks like ants at a picnic. Something was bothering Darla, I could tell. When we had been guys, we hadn't been very close. In fact, I barely knew Austin - yet here we were, a new friendship being forged by a common magical experience. Of course, it wasn't surprising to see Darla be bothered. I was bothered, too. But I had misinterpreted what was upsetting Darla. She motioned me over to another rack of dresses and pretended to be looking at them, fingering them critically. "What do you think of this?" she asked, pulling a short yellow dress with a small floral pattern on it. "I think it's a dress," I said a little sardonically. Darla got a little closer to me. "Sam, I've got a problem," she began in a low voice. "I'm listening," I assured her, pretending to examine the rack of dresses next to hers. So what else was new? I thought. It seemed as if we all had a problem. "I understand Coach Jessup is now Ms. Drew, the Social Sciences teacher." "I've heard that, too," I agreed. I couldn't confirm it. I hadn't experienced any of my morning classes yet, so I hadn't even met the new Ms. Drew. Darla sighed. "And I've heard Ms. Drew is trying to organize something that might get us changed back." "Look, Darla," I began, "I wouldn't get my hopes up too much because - " "I don't want to change back," she interrupted suddenly. I turned to face her, shocked. She looked embarrassed, her face crimson. She was having difficulty looking me in the eye. "I don't want to be Austin again," she said softly. "I want to be Darla. I've... I've always wanted to be... like this." "You're gay?" I asked, barely above a whisper. It couldn't be! I hadn't known Austin well, but he was a regular guy - a team player. Besides, I had seen him with his girlfriend before. They had been hanging all over each other. A look approximating disgust crossed Darla's face. "You were always one of the smartest guys on the team," she mumbled. "I though you'd understand. I said I always wanted to be a girl. I didn't say I was gay. I'm not gay." "Look, Darla," I said, recovering, "I'm sorry if I offended you. I guess I just assumed..." "That if I wanted to be a girl, I must be gay?" she finished for me. "Well... yes." She shook her head slowly. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. A lot of people would think that. No, I never wanted to make love to a man while I was male. I mean, not really. It's sort of confusing." "I'm trying to understand," I assured her. More sure of herself, she explained, "Think of how you feel right now. You probably feel like you're a man trapped in the body of a girl." "Of course," I agreed. That was exactly how I felt. "Well, I was just the opposite," she continued. "I always felt like I was a girl trapped in the body of a boy. It was like there had been some huge cosmic mistake. Or maybe it wasn't a mistake. Maybe it was God's sense of humor. Anyhow, there I was. As a child, I always envied the girls their lives. I wanted to be one of them - to wear what they wore and think what they thought. When I was about thirteen, I even slipped into my sister's room when she was away and tried on her clothes." She turned red again. I put my hand on her arm and gave her a small smile. I was developing an odd respect for Darla. It had to be hard for her to be telling me all of this. And I was trying to understand. Sure, every guy wonders at some point or another what it must be like to be a girl. Of course, for most of us, it's a passing thought - just like we wonder what it must be like to be a fireman or Chinese or a fifty year old man. That wasn't where Darla was coming from, though. Encouraged she went on, "I guess I was never cut out to be a transvestite. At thirteen, I was already pretty good sized. I mean, I was playing JV football by then. So I realized I was condemned to be male for the rest of my life. I did the best I could with it. The problem was I couldn't look at a lingerie ad without wishing I looked like that, and I couldn't make love to a girl without wondering what it felt like for her. Damn it, Sam, I was pretty fucked up. "Then we came here. It was like a dream come true. One minute there I was Austin Blake - a man who didn't want to be a man. Then the next minute, I was Darla Hastings. I mean, I wasn't a real beauty like you or some of the others, but I was attractive. I think I would have settled for being unattractive just to be a girl, so this was more than I could have ever hoped for." She stopped and looked at me seriously. "You don't hate me, do you, Sam?" I felt a pang of emotion in my throat as I looked in her sad but hopeful eyes. How could I hate someone who just wanted to be happy with who they were? "No, I don't hate you, Darla." She sighed. "I'm glad. Look, I'll help everybody try to get back to their old lives, but I want to stay here. I want to be Darla. If Coach Jessup is successful, I just want to be left behind." "I understand," I told her. "But why not just opt out of anything we do to get changed back?" "I want to support the team," she said seriously. "All of you guys have been like family to me the last couple of years. I wouldn't do anything to let you down. In fact, if it's all or nothing, I'd even change back with you." I realized in that moment that this poor confused former guy standing in front of me in the body of a girl was one of the most self-sacrificing, heroic people I had ever known. If she had told any of us of her odd desire back before we had come to Ovid, she would have been ridiculed. She - then he - would never have lived it down. But Darla had proven herself the bravest of us all. We would think ourselves brave because we were willing to face the Judge as a group, demanding our old lives back. Darla would be there with us - not because she wanted to be, but because it was what the team wanted. "Don't worry, Darla," I told her, giving her a sisterly hug. "I'm sure it will all work out." I had surprised myself with that little hug. It wasn't instinctive for me, but somehow, it just felt like the right thing to do. I think it made me feel as good as it made her feel. She smiled at me with a tear in her eye. I only hoped that my promise wasn't an empty one. If the Judge was powerful enough to change us as he had, what would he do when we crossed him? The other girls had joined us by then, so I wasn't able to talk with her about it further. I'm not sure what I would have said to her that hadn't already been said anyway. As I looked at the dresses, I began to examine my own thoughts. Darla had told me to think of the problem from my own perspective. I was now man trapped in the body of a girl. In the topsy- turvy world of Ovid, our positions had been somewhat reversed. Darla was now the person she wanted to be, and it was me who was the oddball. I was now a man mentally trapped in the body of a girl. I could continue to act like a guy, but to what purpose? I would be subject to the same ridicule Austin would have experienced if the situation was reversed. But how could I really act like a girl? Austin had acted like the guy he didn't think he was. I was sure he had even made love in that form. Could I do that? Could I act like a girl? Oh, I didn't mean just the little automatic things like applying makeup and getting dressed that the magic of Ovid seemed to be able to help me do. What I meant was, could I really think like a girl? And if I did that just to fit in, wasn't there a danger that I might start to think like that for real? "That would look very nice on you," a melodic feminine voice said behind me. I jumped, unaware that I was being observed. I had been fingering a silky dark green dress just to try to look like a shopper. I hadn't really been looking at the dress, lost as I was deep in my own thoughts. I turned to see perhaps the most beautiful woman I could ever have imagined. Her hair was the color of spun gold, styled mid length. Her skin was like alabaster, perfect and flawless. Her eyes were the deepest, prettiest blue I had ever seen and her figure seen through a rose colored sheath dress was perfection itself. A small nametag tastefully identified her as Vera March. "Oh, I'm... I'm just looking," I told her. For once, I was almost happy I was a girl. If I had still been a guy, I think I would have been too tongue-tied to even talk to her. She smiled and went on as if I hadn't spoken. "This is the new style for fall. You're very fortunate you have such attractive legs because the skirt is a little short. Why don't you try it on over there?" She nodded in the direction of the fitting rooms where Jessica had just come from, dressed in a short white dress which she was showing to the other girls. "Oh, I don't think it's for me," I protested. I didn't want to be on display for the other girls in this short little thing. "I'm really not into this sort of this." Yeah, like being a girl. "Just try it on," Vera March insisted. Her voice was soft and sweet, but there was something in it that had force. I found myself taking it off the rack and heading for the fitting rooms without further protest. I had to admit, it did feel good - unlike anything else I had ever had on my body. Maybe it was the soft, hairless skin I now possessed, but whatever the reason, it felt almost luxurious. "Sam, come out! We all want to see it!" Jessica called from beyond the curtain. There was no mirror in the fitting room, and I had to admit I was a little curious as to what it did look like on me. Reluctantly I stepped out of the fitting room and faced my friends. As one, they oohed as they looked at me. It was actually Darla who finally blurted, "Oh Sam, that looks absolutely fabulous on you." "It's a little short," I muttered, feeling as if my butt was exposed. "Oh, don't be a prude, Sam," Jessica giggled. "It looks great on you. You should buy it." I think there must be a single moment in everyone's life when he or she becomes aware of who they really are. For most of us, that comes when we're so young that we don't remember it. For me though, it was that moment when I looked into the mirror and saw myself in that dark green dress. I had spent over twenty-one years being aware that I was a male, strong, not bad looking, intelligent, but most of all, male. Since the day before, that image had been confounded. I was still intelligent, but all of the other attributes had been altered. I was now weaker and very good looking in a feminine sort of way. Somehow though, I had been trying to deny that I was, in fact, female. Oh yes, I had no doubt that I had been thrust into the role of a young woman, but it was more like a role in a play. Deep down, I was still Jace Stromberg. Now though, as I looked into that mirror, aware of how that short green dress molded itself to the feminine curves of my body and accented the reddish highlights in my hair and the creamy smoothness of my skin, it was - for that moment at least - hard to imagine that I had ever been male. Were those green-gray eyes really mine? Were my breasts really that high and that firm? Did my feminine hands actually look that graceful when smoothing down the dress? I found myself wishing I had worn pantyhose after all. The short crew socks looked absurd when viewed with the dress, and heels - I needed heels. I... "It's beautiful on you." It was the voice of Vera March as she stood behind me but out of my sight in the mirror. It was like a siren song, luring me into the depths of my new femininity. But wasn't there hope that I needn't stay this way? If we all stuck together as a team, perhaps we could still convince the Judge to change us back. In numbers, there is strength. I could not give into this image. I was still Jason Stromberg - strong, intelligent and male. Yes, above all, I was male. I had to be male. This dress, as beautiful as it was on my curved body, was a white flag of surrender - surrender to a life I didn't want. I must resist. I must resist. "Shall we put it on your mother's account?" I turned to Vera March. "What? Ye - no. No, I don't think so." Was that disappointment in her eyes? Or was it amusement? There was a collective "aw!" from the other girls. "You should get it," Darla urged sincerely. "With heels and the right jewelry, you'd look sensational." "Don't remind me," I muttered, fleeing to the fitting room. So while the other girls each bought something, I contented myself with pretending to look. Vera March made no further attempt to foist the dress off on me, for which I was grateful. Her persuasive tone, coupled with her unquestionable beauty, somehow made me want to accept what had happened to me. She was real, too, but perhaps not a transformee. No, she was like Officer Mercer and the Judge, poised and imbued with a magical essence that spoke of something beyond human understanding. Yes, they were gods, I thought to myself as we walked down the main street of Ovid together. They had managed to change our football team into a collection of high school students, most of whom could not even remember who they had been. Here we were, our little group of five girls walking down the streets of Ovid, stopping to admire a pretty pair of shoes or a sexy dress in the windows we passed. Yet only three of us remembered that only a day before, we had been young men, fit and ready for a battle on the gridiron this very afternoon - a battle that would now never take place. I had a sudden flash of inspiration. The Judge - Jupiter? Perhaps. Like the King of the Roman Gods, he wielded imperious power, creating a town and all its denizens from - what? - whatever was available. At his side, Officer Mercer, an officer of the court who seemed to be almost anywhere he needed to be - like Mercury? And Vera March, beautiful beyond imagining. Wasn't it Venus who fit that role in the stories of the Romans? "Don't you think so, Sam?" It was Jessica's voice. "What?" I responded. Jessica sighed. "Honestly, Sam, you've been on another planet the last couple of days. I was asking you about the shoes." She pointed at a pair of black pumps with a - what? - two inch heel. "Oh, yes, they're nice," I managed. The other girls tittered - even Darla. "I had just remarked that they would go great with that green dress you tried on," she explained. "Sure," I agreed with a shrug. The funny thing is she was right. I found myself wondering what I would look like in the green dress I had tried on, with these pumps on my feet and... What was happening to me? As we continued up Main Street, I knew what was happening to me. It was probably happening to all of us. When you're forced to play a role, it becomes more and more who you are. Wake up some morning and find out you are a girl instead of a man and you'll start acting like a girl just to fit in. The next thing you know, you'll start thinking like a girl. What happens next? You'll be a girl. Already my life as Jace Stromberg was starting to feel like a life that had happened to someone else. It was hard to imagine what it felt like to block out tall, powerful receivers with my body. It was hard to remember what it felt like to be taller than most other people. Part 7 Our next stop was a trip into the past - Porter's Drug Store. It was the grandaddy of the modern Walgreen's, a store with a pharmacy in back and rows of greeting cards, magazines, candy, gifts and other sundries packed tightly into limited display space. Unlike a modern Walgreen's though, Porter's was equipped with a genuine soda fountain, complete with stools and a row of booths. It looked like something out of Grease. My new friends and I would not have looked out of place had we wandered in wearing Bobby socks, poodle skirts, and ponytails to the sounds of Elvis on a jukebox. The five of us slid into a single booth. I was on the outside of the side with three girls, a feat that we could never have accomplished in our old bodies. Even with our expanded asses, we managed to fit reasonably well. Then we deviated from the fifties atmosphere by ordering Diet Cokes instead of the sodas Porter's still offered. I tried to keep my mind on the conversation, but it wasn't easy. The major topic of the day seemed to be the clothing we had all looked at, followed closely by boys and a party the following Saturday to celebrate Ovid's homecoming. "Do you and Danny want to double with Jack and me?" Jessica asked. There it was again. They all assumed that Danny and I were a couple. I wanted to scream out that Danny was not my boyfriend and I didn't care if I never saw him again - even if he was an old friend. I didn't, though. Instead, I gave a tepid "Sure" in response to her question. It was sufficient. Darla seemed to be honestly enjoying the conversation. For her, this must have been heaven. At last, she had the body she had always wanted. She was animated and exuberant as she talked about the guy she was going to the homecoming dance with. As miserable as I felt for myself, I felt happy for her. At least some good had come out of our transformations. I wondered if I would ever be anything like these other girls. Would I someday be avidly discussing shades of lipstick and agreeing that George James had great buns? Maybe, but it didn't seem likely. "Speaking of George James," Kelly whispered as she looked over my shoulder, "it's a hunk alert." The three of us sitting with our backs to the front of the store turned as one to see George walking toward us, flanked by Jack and Danny. A flurry of emotions coursed through me at that moment. I was at once envious of George. Why couldn't I have been turned into the high school starting quarterback? Why had Jill been chosen for that role? Then I became curious about Jack. What was it like to lose yourself so completely into an entirely new identity? But most overwhelming were the feelings I had when I looked at Danny. He was - or had been - my best friend. I was envious of him as well - still male, self-assured, handsome. And there was the other emotion I was finding so difficult to contend with. He was handsome, and somehow I recognized that. When I saw him, my heart fluttered and I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. There was no use in denying it. My body was attracted to his body. I knew it, and I knew I had to fight it. The next thing I knew, they were standing next to us, each of them tall, good-looking, and exuding a masculine aura that I would never have noticed before my transformation. There was the usual social ritual that occurs when a group of girls and a group of guys meet. There were greetings followed by posturing. Each of the guys was anxious to show how cool he was. The odd thing was how George had picked up on it so quickly. Just a day before, he had been a girl himself. Yet here he was, chest out, stomach in, looking for all the world as if he had been a high school sports hero all his life. Was I reacting as if I had been a girl forever? I didn't think so, but if I really thought about it, I was pretending to ignore the guys, stealing glances at them, looking a little flustered when they noticed, and even fighting back a giggle or two at something the guys said or did. True, I was the most reserved of the girls, but a casual observer wouldn't have noticed anything in my actions out of the ordinary. Somehow that both bothered me and pleased me at the same time. I tried hard to ignore Danny. After all, I had not answered his call that morning, and I had dreaded the next time I would have to face him. That time had happened much sooner than I had imagined. For what it was worth, he seemed a little uncomfortable, too. As the conversation continued, Danny managed to catch my eye. He motioned nervously for me to join him. As I slid out of the booth to talk with him, I don't really think any of the rest of the group really noticed. It was unfortunate that the location we picked to talk was so close to the cosmetics counter. Staring at a display of lipstick beside us, it was a reminder to me of what I had become. I used lipstick now, whether I liked it or not. All of the cosmetics so prominently displayed were examples of what had been thrust upon me, so it was with some rancor that I snapped at Danny with, "What do you want?" He was a little taken aback, but he stood his ground. "Look, Sam, I tried to call you this morning." "I know." "Did I do something wrong last night?" Did he? Actually, he didn't. He was the proverbial perfect gentleman around me. True, he had put his arm around me, but not in a threatening way. And our lips had nearly met, but that had been as much my fault as his. "No," I said slowly, my voice less threatening. "I thought we were friends," he pressed on. "Well," I had to admit, "we are." "Then as a friend," Danny continued, "let me help you out. This has got to be hard for you." "You have no idea how hard," I sighed, fighting back a tear. "No, I don't," he admitted. "I can't imagine what it must be like. Being Danny is weird enough." "Oh, Lar - I mean Danny," I said, my voice suddenly quaking. I was afraid I couldn't hold it together much longer. What was happening to me? "Hey, let's go outside," he suggested. "I'll walk you home." Walk? Oh sure, I remembered. Ovid wasn't that big. We could walk practically anywhere if we had to. I thought I needed a walk. I needed to... to...think. Danny waived at the others who all gave him a knowing nod. They had all seen scenes like this before and realized that a boy and a girl needed time alone to work out their relationship. Of course, that wasn't what was really happening here. Or was it? Come to think of it, that was exactly what was happening. Danny and I had a relationship, even if it wasn't the relationship everyone else thought it was. And we did need to work it out. It was a warm Saturday morning, and I actually felt better as we got out of the business district and walked together down streets lined with stately oaks whose leaves were starting to reach the height of their fall colors. It reminded me of home. I missed my family there in that moment. I remembered what things had been like back when Joan was the age I was now and I was in the eighth grade. Johnny was still in elementary school. We had been a happy family then since it was before mom and dad started arguing all the time. I felt a need to call them, I knew I wouldn't, though. I was pretty sure they wouldn't remember me. Whatever power had changed me had probably erased all trace of Jace Stromberg. How did I know that? Well, when the morning paper had said nothing about our disappearance, I was pretty sure the Judge had wiped out all trace of our existence. The question was: could we convince him to change us back? What incentive did he have to do so? For some reason, he wanted us this way. "You look like you're lost in thought," Danny observed. "I suppose I am," I replied. I told him my theories about the Judge. "I suspect you're right," he agreed as we walked slowly. "I had reached pretty much the same conclusions. And by the way, there's a Ms. Miner who's Superintendent of Schools in Ovid. She's probably Minerva." "I wonder how many of the old gods are really in Ovid," I said. "If we try to fight them, the odds could be heavily against us." Danny shook his head. "I don't think we should fight them." "That's easy for you to say," I pointed out. "You're still male. Besides, you're a good looking guy. The girls will be falling all over you when they figure out we're not an item. And you've got a good family and you're bright. Things are coming up roses for you." "And you," he pointed out. "Me?" I laughed at him. "Haven't you noticed? I'm a girl! I can't exactly play football anymore and chasing girls is sort of out of the question." "So that's what's bothering you," Danny said softly. "Of course it's bothering me! Did you think I want to run around in skirts and heels for the rest of my life? To wear makeup and have my hair done? To have periods and babies? God, Danny, what did you think? That I wanted to be a girl?" We had stopped and were facing each other. I was practically yelling at him, and I could feel my face flushing as my voice got louder. I expected him to yell back at me. I wanted him to yell back at me. I wanted him to tell me I had turned into a stupid bitch who would have to learn to like being a girl and that he was just the guy to show her why. In other words, I wanted him to be such a prick that I would be justified in walking away. I wanted him to say all the things a stupid prick would say. But he didn't. Danny looked me in the eye, a sad expression on his face. "You're right. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. This has to be very hard on you." "Well it is!" I snapped, but I was having difficulty maintaining my anger. Why did he have to be so understanding? Why did he have to be so nice? Why did he have to be so... be so... handsome? "Look, Sam," he began softly, "I don't pretend to have any idea what you're going through, but you're right. For me, I'm just looking at living my old life over again. I guess I don't play football in this reality, but that was probably a dead end for me anyway. Now I can concentrate on other things and get on with my life. Who knows? Maybe I'll win a scholastic scholarship this time instead of an athletic one. "But for you, everything has changed. I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like to have a... I mean, to be a girl. But I want to help you any way I can." "Help me, sure," I snorted. "I suppose you want to show me how to use all that new equipment of mine." "God damn it, Sam!" Danny raised his voice, startling me. "The Jace Stromberg I knew didn't sit around wallowing in self pity. No, I don't want to help you use that new equipment of yours." He was silent for a moment, then continued, "No, that's not true. You've become a very good looking girl - the kind of girl Larry Gunn would have been all over." I felt an odd mixture of emotions. Part of me wanted to punch him out for that remark, but part of me was strangely interested in what he had to say. "But you're my friend - probably my best friend - and I couldn't - wouldn't - do that to you," he said softly. "Sam, I want us to be friends. I know that won't be easy. Practically everyone thinks you and I are a couple. I know we aren't. We're friends, or at least we should be." I suddenly remembered the old movie When Harry Met Sally. It had explored the concept of friendship between men and women. In it, the main characters had managed to become friends, I thought brightly. Then I remembered that they had ended up in bed together. But I needed a friend. I needed for Danny to be my friend. "Okay," I murmured. "Friends." He brightened, and I added, "But just friends." "Just friends," he repeated, smiling. We were silent for a moment, until I asked, "So okay, 'friend,' what do we do next?" He grinned. "Well, I walk you home and we wait until Monday to see if Coach Jessup is able to organize anything." "What do you think, Danny?" I asked. "About what?" "About Coach Jessup," I said. "I keep hearing he - or I guess it's she now - is going to try to organize some way to get us changed back. Do you think she can do it?" Danny thought carefully before responding. "No, I don't. Not really." I felt the same way, but I was disappointed when I heard Danny say it. "I'm sorry, Sam," he went on. "I hope I'm wrong and that he can figure out something. But we can't even figure out why these gods have done this to us. I mean, if the old classical gods have some reason for creating this town and changing us all into permanent residents, I don't think they're going to change us back just because we don't like it. The Greeks may have come up with democracy, but I don't think the Judge and his folks buy into it." "I feel the same way," I sighed. "I guess that's why this is so hard for me. If I could have been transformed into this form for a day or two, it might have been kind of fun. I mean, a lot of guys wonder what it would be like to be a girl. But, Danny, I'm afraid I'm going to be a girl for the rest of my life, and... and I don't know what to do about it." I was practically in tears. I was becoming so emotional, I didn't know what to do. Danny looked for a moment as if he was going to move toward me. If he had, I don't know what would have happened. A part of me wanted him to do it. I needed someone to tell me it was all going to work out while holding onto me. But wouldn't that just be giving in? "Are... are you okay?" he asked softly. "I... I think so," I sniffled. With effort, I managed to suppress disappointment that he hadn't held me. "Then let's get you home," he said. We managed to keep the conversation a little lighter the rest of the way. George was sixteen and had a car, so he had picked Danny and Jack up that morning. Since he had picked up Danny first, they had had a chance to compare notes before seeing Jack. Apparently our old friend Wild Bill wasn't one bit happy with the role he had been given. His new persona of Glen MacReady wasn't all that he would have wished for. Wild Bill had been talented at football but had been a dork. Glen was a dork without football talent. If the Judge was trying to punish him, he couldn't have done a better job, and I said so to Danny. "True," Danny agreed, "but what is George being punished for?" "George?" I asked. "What about George? He came out of this great. He's good looking, a great football player, and he seems to be bright." "Yes, but he's also male." "So?" Danny sighed, "That's why he wanted to get together with me today. He isn't too sure about being male. He would rather be female." "But why?" I asked. "He's got everything now." "Except his sex," Danny pointed out. "Think of it this way, Sam. You're attractive, personable, and someone told me you currently have one of the top five grade points in our class. Some people might say you've got everything." "Yeah, but I'm a..." My voice trailed off. He was right, of course. Of my friends who remembered their old lives, I was probably an object of envy to some of them. Jill, it seemed, would prefer to be me since I was a girl. Darla was just happy to be female at last, but I would imagine she would prefer to be Sam. Maybe some of the others would rather be me, too. "So did you hear anything from any of our teammates?" Danny asked. "No," I said slowly, unwilling to betray Darla's confidence. "I've been in a group of girls all morning, and most of them don't remember anything." Our conversation had brought me to my front door. "Uh, do you want to come in?" I asked, just a little nervously. "Oh, no," Danny said self consciously. "I...uh...have some studying to do. I'm apparently pretty high in class standings, too, and I think I'd like to keep it that way." "Okay," I said turning away, just a tad disappointed. "Hey, wait!" I turned back to him. "Yes?" "I noticed there was a new Van Damme movie playing tonight at seven, and since you like his flicks, I thought..." He looked at the expression on my face and hastened to add, "I mean, it wouldn't be a date or anything. I mean, you and I used to go to the movies together before. I just thought - " "Sure," I said impulsively, almost regretting it as I said it. No matter what we chose to call it, I suppose it was still a date. "You mean it?" "I mean it," I admitted as much to myself as to Danny. "Pick me up at six thirty." He grinned. "See you then." I closed the door behind me with a sigh. Why had I said yes? Oh, I suppose I could pretend that I really wanted to see the movie, but I really didn't care. It's just that it seemed to mean a lot to Danny, and he was my friend. "Well, so how is Danny?" a young boy's voice teased. So I was about to meet my kid brother, Josh, at last, I realized. He was lying on a couch in the living room, a comic book open on his lap. There was no denying him as my brother. He was almost a younger, male version of me, auburn hair and all. I had been right about the family picture being recent. He appeared to be about twelve. "He's fine," I said airily, refusing to rise to the bait. As Jace, I had teased my own sister unmercifully when I had been Josh's age. I knew all the tricks, but he didn't know that. "So did he kiss you?" "Why would you want to know?" He hadn't expected that question, so he just snorted and went back to his comic. He was a shade, but he acted just like I had acted when I was his age. I'd be able to get along fine with Josh. I knew as much about being a twelve year old boy as he did. I greeted my parents, both of whom were busy with household chores, and retreated to my room for the rest of the day. I was intrigued with Danny's revelation that I was one of the top students in the class, and I resolved to stay near the top. I think it was the competitive instincts I had developed playing football. I might not be able to break up a thirty yard pass pattern now, but I could ace my next algebra exam. Fortunately Sam took excellent notes. A small notebook written in a distinctly feminine hand that was now mine outlined all my assignments for the next week. There was to be a history quiz on Tuesday. No problem. As a history major in college, I could probably ace the quiz without looking at the book. I decided to study for the quiz later. It would almost be like taking a break. My algebra assignment didn't look too bad, but I hadn't taken a match course in quite a while. I would have to bear down to keep the A I apparently had there. Chemistry would be a particular problem. I had done okay in chemistry in high school, but it had been a tough course. Come to think of it, it was when I was taking chemistry that I had made the decision to concentrate on sports. I put the notebook down, lost for a moment in thought. There are turning points in everyone's life that don't seem to earthshaking at the time but have lasting effects on one's life. I had been a male version of Samantha when I had been her age in high school. My sophomore year, I was one of the top five in a very large class, destined for great things. I had planned to follow in my father's footsteps and be a doctor. What had changed? Well, for one thing, I had been good in sports. It was a talent derived as much by my size and intelligence as by any inherited instinct. My own father had set sports aside in high school to concentrate on his future medical career. I had done just the opposite. Why? Then I remembered. It was near the end of my sophomore year that my mother and father started having trouble. She complained that he was never around for family activities and that he never showed any affection for anyone. He complained that she had no idea of the pressures he faced daily as a surgeon. The trouble spilled over that next fall. My sister Joan had been the mediator in many of their disputes, but her mind was on college then, often off with her friends through the summer. Although I had tried to act as mediator in my sister's absence, I wasn't as adroit at it as she had been. I think I began to feel I might be on the same road as my father. I could do well in school, get into a top college, go on to medical school, and be a doctor just like my father, but to what end? To find myself trapped in an unhappy marriage years later, unable to separate my home life from my professional life? It didn't seem all that attractive. So I had began to set my studies aside and concentrate on athletics. As luck would have it, I was good enough to excel at football. Oh, I still did reasonably well in school. I was, after all, pretty bright. But I had eschewed my true potential. Why? The truth was, I didn't want to be like my father. Yes, I could finally admit that to myself. It had taken the loss of my balls to make me realize it, but I had ignored my true potential just to avoid being the cold, aloof surgeon that my father had been. That was why I had opted for something like history. That was why I had begun to drift into a life that I now realized would have never been satisfying to me. In fact, I had already resolved in my final moments as Jace to be willing to drift into a most unsatisfying life. I had been given a second chance, I thought suddenly. Here I was, only a sophomore but with an excellent grade point. I wouldn't have football to distract me now, so I would have the extra time I needed to stay near the top of my class. Then what? Well, maybe a good college and then on to medical school. Doctor Samantha Wallace. That actually sounded pretty good. It had taken the loss of my masculinity to tell me the truth: I really wanted to be a doctor; I just didn't want to be like my father. It was a far happier, more resolute Samantha who answered the door at six thirty. I had spent the entire afternoon poring over a chemistry text. When I concentrated on it, it was actually pretty easy. I had taken breaks only long enough to eat and touch up my makeup to get ready to go to the movies with Danny. Since I had plowed directly into my studies, I didn't even feel the need to change for our date. I was looking in the mirror and smiling as the doorbell rang, thinking of how I wasn't one- hundred percent girl in my thoughts yet. If I had been a girl all my life, I would have felt the need to change clothes just for the fun of it. As I opened the door, Danny gave me a funny look. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Oh, nothing," he told me. "It's just that this morning, you seemed... different." "I'm a whole new me," I said with a cryptic smile, grabbing a sweater against the early fall chill. As we walked out of the movie, Danny asked, "Well, what did you think of it?" "It was good," I said without much conviction. To be honest, I had been a little disappointed with it. I usually went to a Van Damme movie with a bunch of guys, and we would really get into the action. Maybe it was my sudden lack of testosterone, but I had actually been a little bored with the movie. It was all action with only a hint of romance. I had also experienced an uncomfortable feeling when I caught myself musing that Van Damme had nice buns. That had set me off on another train of thought. Was I becoming attracted to men? I had only been a girl for a little over a day, but it seemed as if I spent very little time looking at girls' breasts asses, and legs and more time looking at guys. Even when I looked at girls, it was more to analyze what they were wearing or how they had done their hair or makeup. Well, I wanted to be a doctor, and my doctor father had been very clinical when he had finally gotten around to explaining the birds and the bees to me. I realized that the basis of sexual attraction went well beyond the intellectual. Oh sure, there were aspects of attraction that went beyond hormones and pheromones, but those aspects allowed us to pick a specific member of the opposite gender. Walking out of the movie with Danny, I came to the realization that, like it or not, I was becoming attracted to him. That didn't mean I was ready to hop into bed with him or even grope with him in the front seat of his car, but I was finding that I enjoyed being with him in a way that transcended our long-standing friendship. "Want to get something to drink?" he asked. "Sure." I found I really wanted to go someplace with Danny - someplace where we could talk and get to know each other better. That sounded odd to me since I had known him well for several years, but I was a different person now, and I needed to know aspects of him that I had never known before. Besides, just because he had remained male didn't mean that there hadn't been changes to him mentally as well. As I was beginning to understand, much of who we are is determined by the body we wear. Rusty's Burger Barn seemed to be the hangout of choice for every Ovid High student. It seemed as if half the people we had come to know in Ovid were there. Teresa and Geena were there with their football-playing boyfriends. True to their word at the party, they seemed to have the guys eating out of their hands. I think they were actually enjoying themselves. Their new roles in Ovid were almost like a private joke that only they could share. George James was there too, trying to keep his full attention on an attractive young blonde girl while being constantly distracted by teammates and well-wishers. Ah, the life of a football hero. Part 8 Darla was there, dressed in the manner she had always wanted for herself, I was sure. Her brown hair was pinned up, revealing shell-like ears with long, dangling earrings. She wore a tight pink sweater and displayed a substantial amount of nylon-covered leg beyond her matching skirt. The guy she was with wasn't noticing that, though. He was too busy trying to imagine what her small but pert breasts must look like under the sweater. She was having the time of her life. I was actually happy for her. Even Jennifer and Barry were there, sharing a table away from the crowd. Neither looked particularly pleased to be there, and Jennifer actually would turn to face the crown occasionally with an almost angry scowl. Then she would turn back and engage Barry in an animated conversation. I could almost imagine them to be Lenin and Trotsky, sitting in the back of some aging European cafe while they plotted the overthrow of the rest of the patrons. I hoped they weren't plotting to cause trouble, but I was pretty sure that was what they were doing. Cause trouble? I caught myself thinking as we sat and ordered Cokes and an order of fries to munch on. Just a few hours before, I had found myself hoping they would succeed. What had changed? Didn't I want to be Jace again? Well yes, I suppose I did in a theoretical sort of way. If someone had offered me the chance to be Samuel Wallace instead of Samantha, keeping my new family and my class ranking and all that the ranking implied about my future, I would have jumped at the chance. Oh sure, I would miss my old family, but not all that much. We were never the closest of families. If I missed anyone, it would probably be my sister, Joan. But I seldom saw her anymore. She was engaged and living back east. As for the rest of my family, my younger brother was a spoiled brat. With all the marital problems my parents had, he had learned to play them off against each other. My new younger brother, Josh, was preferable. And as for parents, I supposed I still loved them and I would miss them, but they seemed intent upon breaking up their marriage. I had expected a call from them at any time telling me they had finally split the sheets. Still, I planned to work with my teammates to try to return to our old lives. It sounded almost perverse to me to think that, but I was a team player. Besides, maybe it wasn't too late for Jace to figure out a way to get into medical school. My grades were very good. I had the top grade point on the team. Maybe some medical school - possible out of the country - would give me a chance. "I'm really glad you decided to go to the movies with me tonight," Danny told me. "I was afraid you... well, you know." I found myself putting my hand on his. "Let's not worry about that anymore," I said softly so that others around us wouldn't hear. "I think we're going to be stuck this way, and I just decided if I had to be Samantha Wallace, I'd better start acting like her." Danny gave me a little smile. "I'm pleased." Then he looked a little stricken. "I mean I'm pleased for you. I didn't mean how it affect us or anything." "Hey, we're friends, remember?" He relaxed a little. "Oh sure." We changed the conversation to topics of school and our friends, new and old. Other couples came up to talk to us, Jack and Jessica actually joining us for awhile. Then about eleven, we decided to head home. Danny walked me to the door this time. That felt funny to me, but I was actually glad he did. We looked at each other for a moment after I got the door open, as if uncertain as to what to do next. Finally, I said, "Well, goodnight, friend." He gave me a little smile but kept his hands to himself. "Goodnight, friend." Then it happened before I could stop it. It was an impulse that came so far from left field that I hadn't even had the chance to consider what it might mean. I arched up onto my toes and gave him a little sisterly kiss on the cheek. He looked as if he had been shot, and I thought for one terrible moment that I had done something wrong. What if our roles had been reversed and a female Larry Gunn had suddenly kissed me on the cheek? Would I have fled screaming into the night? I mean, just a couple of days before we had both been young men. Now we were... friends. I felt my face begin to flush. I thought I had just made a fool of myself. Danny just stared at me as if he were unable to move. Without another word, I fled into the house, closing the door softly behind me. I was a hodgepodge of emotions. I was embarrassed for what I had done. If we ever got back to our old lives, how would I ever be able to face Larry again? I was disgusted with myself. I was a guy, damn it! Or at least I had been one for most of my life. But I was also very confused. A small part of me - the part that had suddenly risen to the top of my consciousness - was actually a little pleased with what I had done. I mean, if I ended up stuck as a girl - and I was fairly certain our efforts to get our old lives back would fail - then I would have to get used to seeing boys in a far different light. I had taken an important first step in that direction with that small, innocent kiss. "Is that you, Sam?" It was my new mother's voice, shaking me out of my reverie and making me realize I was just standing there hiding behind the door, listening to Danny's receding footsteps. "Yes, it's me," I replied. "Well, I'm glad you're home early," she said from the doorway of the darkened bedroom where I could hear my new father softly snoring. "We have to be at church early tomorrow. Your father and I are greeting. Are you planning on going to Sunday School?" "Uh...I don't think so." "Then you can just ride to services with your father and me," she decided. Church? Well, why not? I hadn't gone much in college, but my family had been fairly strong Methodists. I hoped I hadn't become Catholic or something. I had no idea how they conducted services. All I knew was that they did a lot of kneeling and crossed themselves a lot. Maybe in Ovid, they worshiped the Greek and Roman gods. I actually snickered to myself, thinking about how odd a congregation of Midwestern Americans would look standing around in the Temple of Jupiter sacrificing a goat - or whatever you sacrificed to Jupiter. Frivolous thoughts about church at least distracted me from thinking about Danny. Still trying to visualize what a group of Americans would be like worshiping Jupiter, I got ready for bed and fell asleep almost at once. Dressing as a girl was getting more natural for me, I realized the next morning as I got ready for church. It seemed almost natural to put on a pastel blue slip dress patterned with tiny white flowers. And the nylons and pale blue pumps matched well. I actually found the two inch heel they sported not too hard to walk in at all. A dainty gold necklace with matching earrings and thin gold bracelets made nice accents, and I thought I looked quite nice as I finished off my makeup in the bathroom mirror. "Are you about ready?" the frustrated voice of my father boomed from the entryway. "Almost," I called back, inspecting my lipstick. This was the first time I had applied it completely by myself, depending before on my automatic help. I didn't want to look like a clown. I thought I had done quite a nice job. I had relied on a little automatic help for the eye shadow and the highlights on my cheeks, but I still considered my performance an accomplishment. "We're going to be late!" he hollered again. "Why does it take you so long?" Why indeed! I had often wondered the same thing as I had watched my real mother and sister get ready. Now I knew the answer. Maybe my new father should try doing everything I had to do to look beauti - well, to look presentable. "She's a teenage girl," I heard my new mother explain, as if that answered it all. And it did, too. I was learning how to be a girl. I still wasn't comfortable with it, and I would still have preferred to be male, but as long as I had to be a girl, I wanted to be a normal one. Each new thing that I learned - whether it was how to apply eye shadow or how to accessorize an outfit - made me feel a little more comfortable with myself. "Ready," I announced, grabbing my blue purse and trying not to be caught by my father's frustrated stare or my brother's impish grin. In spite of his muttering, we made it to church on time. I got the feeling as I stood in the back of the sanctuary while they greeted parishioners that people were staring at me. I suppose they were, but not, I realized, because I looked out of place. Guys my age greeted me with a friendly "Hi, Sam!" Their fathers cast sidelong glances so they wouldn't be seen staring at jail bait. I watched with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement as these good church-going men slipped a look at my long, graceful legs. Their wives smiled at me as if I was a neophyte member of their sorority - a girl they had known most of their lives who was rapidly blossoming into a woman just like them. Then Danny came in and I felt an embarrassing flush cross my face. I didn't realize that Danny would be going to the same church. He was a Catholic. No, I corrected myself, Larry was a Catholic. Danny had apparently experienced a change of religion just like me. I was no longer a Methodist, but instead a member of the First Baptist Church of Ovid. "Hi, Sam," Danny said a little shyly as he came up in front of me. I looked down a little, trying not to stare directly into his eyes. "Hi, Danny." I suddenly felt like a schoolgirl. Then I realized I really was a schoolgirl. Danny is just a friend, I reminded myself. I'm not really a girl; I just look like one. Hey, old buddy, how's it hanging? Got any lately? How about those Chiefs? You wanna go get a couple of beers? Oh, what I would have given to be able to say any of those things just like I used to say them! Instead, I was appropriately demure. I tried to look around the room, but I was greeted with amused glances from the adults around the room. They didn't see two guys who were college friends who played football, drank beer, and chased girls together. Instead, they saw a young man dressed in a tweed sport coat, colorful tie and khaki slacks talking to a sweet young thing in her Sunday best with the obvious objective of courting her. I found that a little disturbing. What I found even more disturbing was that I sort of wanted to be courted. I mean... Oh, I really don't know what I meant. "Uh... are you going to be studying for that history test today?" Danny ventured. "I suppose so," I replied. I really hadn't decided what to study. I would need to catch up in everything. I hadn't planned to study much for the history test, since as a history major, I should have been able to do well on any high school history exam. Still, I supposed it wouldn't hurt to review... "Do you mind if I come over for a little while this afternoon?" he asked. "I never was terribly good at history. Maybe you could give me a little review. I could do the same for you in algebra." That sold it. I really did need a little help in algebra, and Larry had a minor in math. "Okay." His face brightened. "About two?" I smiled back. "Sure." Danny joined his parents and I joined Josh and my parents for the services. I was a little relieved to see that a Baptist service was not too different fr