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This story is dedicated to the great Elaine, who is bright and kind and generous. Disclaimer: This story is copyrighted by the author and may not be reproduced, reprinted or reposted without the express consent of Jane Howard. Although there is no sex in this story, it depicts a budding romantic relationship between two male teens, one of whom is transgendered. If such a premise offends you, please don't read it. RUNAWAY By Jane Howard copyright 2003 She had decided to leave home when she was sixteen. The depressing steel town where she'd grown up was no place for someone like her. She was very bright, but she had no idea where in the family line that brightness came from. She used her intelligence to learn web site design, set herself up in business and dedicated herself to working for a year in secret to save enough money to make her getaway. She had the patience to do that even though she was only fifteen when she'd first hatched her plan. She was one of those people who was shy by nature but could be bold when she needed to be. And she had been very bold when she first concocted her escape plan. Money was essential, but even more essential was the need to establish an identity that allowed her to appear old enough to sign leases, obtain a driver's license, and to apply for jobs and pay taxes. Most importantly, she also needed to change her sex. Lynn, as she called herself, although the name on her birth certificate appeared as 'Lyndon', had been certain since she was a small child that she was a girl. Basically, there wasn't anything male about her. She certainly didn't look like a boy. She was quite fair and petite, with a small frame and a lovely, sensitive little face. And she certainly didn't act like a boy. She hated sports, hated boys' clothes, detested the tendencies of boys to be messy, loud and ready for a fight, had no interest in cars, engines or collecting insects or any of the other things that boys liked or did. Instead, what Lynn loved to do was design clothes for her dolls, collect pressed flowers and read romantic stories. All these things were done in private, of course, because neither her father nor her mother approved of her behavior. They had threatened to have her 'head examined' if she didn't straighten herself out pretty quick. But threats and discipline had no effect on her. And why should they? She knew, even if they didn't, that she was a girl. Maybe not on the outside, but on the inside where it really counted she was all female. In the end, her parents relented and signed the necessary permissions. and driven her to see the people she needed to see and allowed her to attend the things she needed to attend. In exchange, she had agreed never to 'flaunt herself' as they called it in front of them. By the time she was twelve, she had read enough on the subject of puberty to know that she would have to start taking hormones if she was going to grow up to be a woman. Ever resourceful, she found a way to obtain what she needed. The hormones worked well. She hid what they were doing to her under bulky oversized shirts and jeans. Late at night, she would study the changes going on in her body in the mirror over her dresser. Gradually, a small bust appeared, her waist narrowed, her hips widened and her rear became quite voluptuous, quite a handful. Her voice never got deeper than a very sexy alto. Her reddish blond hair was long and lustrous, and her complexion was exceptionally clear for a teenager. True, a pimple would appear on occasion, but it was usually small and quickly dealt with, thanks to a sensible diet and an array of organic skin care products. Lynn wrote poetry and kept a diary. She kept all her writing safe in a flowerpot high on a shelf in the shed in the yard. Either because of the hormones, or for some other reason, she never experienced the tumultuous onset of adolescent sexuality though she did experience all of the emotional intensity of adolescence. She was not attracted to other girls but she saw no appeal in the jocks at her high school either. In fact, she found most boys rather repulsive and icky and avoided them. This is not to say that Lynn didn't long for love. Oh, yes! Love was the very thing she was looking for. But for her, love was about mutual caring and supportiveness. It was about faith in the future. Above all love was tenderness. She often fantasized about some mysterious, shadowy lover who came to her in the night and showed her all kinds of gentle affection, which she would return. But there was nothing sexual about it. Perhaps she wasn't ready for that kind of love yet. Perhaps she was still too young. Perhaps it was simply because the right person hadn't come along, or because she knew that she was going to run away and that getting involved with someone would only complicate her escape. There was one boy, though. A student named Michael, who had transferred in as a junior from a private school. Like her, he was shy and a loner. Like her, he was very bright. Since he was older than she was, they didn't have any regular classes together, but they both sang in the chorus so they saw each other then. Michael was good looking, and some of the girls tried to get his attention, but Lynn noticed that he didn't encourage any of them. One lunch period in the spring of her sophomore year, Lynn was eating grapes and making a list of the things she would need for her trip to freedom and anonymity in the East. She was sitting on a bench set behind a tall hedge halfway between the school building and the athletic field. Her look of concentration was so deep that it made her appear almost grown up. Suddenly, someone touched her on the shoulder. "Hi! Can I sit with you?" Startled, Lynn looked up. No one ever approached her when she was alone like this. Even the bullies and school psychos left her alone, and she'd come to take being undisturbed for granted. It took her a second to pull herself away from her thoughts about her list and to recognize the face in front of her. It was Michael. She blushed. They had never even really talked before. What could he possibly want from her? "Sure," she said and shifted to one side of the bench to make room for him. She made lots of room. Michael sat, and she looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak. He really was very cute. His hair was black and curly. His gray eyes gave him a very serious look, but right now they seemed quite friendly. Lynn crossed her ankles and folded her hands in her lap, but still Michael said nothing. This was going nowhere. She decided to help him out. "Would you like a grape?" she asked, indicating the paper plate next to her on the bench. "Yes, thanks. I would," he replied, taking a grape and studying it as if it was the most fascinating grape he'd ever seen. "I know you from afternoon chorus," he said. "Yes, I've seen you there, too. But I don't know your name," lied Lynn who knew his name, of course. She knew his name very well but she didn't want him to get the impression that she'd been paying him even the slightest attention. "I'm Michael, and I just transferred this term from .......," he said naming the very exclusive and very expensive prep school he'd been attending. Lynn wondered about that. Why would anyone who could afford to go there want to come here? Had the family lost all its money? Had he gotten into some kind of trouble? He seemed very together, but he was starting to say something else. "You have a beautiful singing voice," he said blushing. "Thank you. Uh, so do you," she replied and when she saw him turning pink, Lynn began to suspect that this boy was actually going to hit on her! She didn't know how she felt about that. Maybe a little more confident about the situation than she had been a minute before. Michael continued, "That solo you do, in the middle of the, you know, the 'Requiem,' it's really pretty cool...." "Oh, it's only a few lines. Mr. DiGisco doesn't really have many voices in my range to pick from...." Lynn was truly modest by nature and didn't feel comfortable accepting praise but Michael misunderstood her reaction, and proceeded to double his mistake. "Oh, no! I'm serious. You have a very special talent, a very rare kind of sound. Maybe it's the emotion behind it, or the way you phrase a line or..." "Stop it!" Lynn had to interrupt him. She didn't believe any of what he was saying. She was sure he was setting her up for something. Michael started eating the grape. "Nice grape." The sounds of teenage boys shouting and coaches screaming commands at the players, and the crisp crack of a baseball leaving the bat followed by the squishy thump of a leather glove catching it signaled that Spring training was underway on the nearby athletic field. "Thanks." Once she saw the vulnerable look gradually taking over Michael's face, Lynn was sorry she'd been so abrupt with him. "Do you want something from me?" she asked him not unkindly. Michael finally figured it out. He understood that she was afraid of him. He knew what to do now. All of a sudden he was all business, very impersonal. "Yes. I wanted to ask you if you've ever thought of singing professionally... of singing with a band. My band, actually." She stared at him as if he had a third eye in the middle of his forehead. There were so many answers she could have given him, but she chose the simplest one. "Honestly, I've never given it a thought," she replied. Michael clarified himself. "I'm looking for a backup vocalist. Do you play key boards?" "A little," she confessed. "I want you to audition for me," Michael said. It was impossible to say 'yes' for so many reasons, the most important of which was the fact that she was leaving town in a few months. Besides the last thing she wanted to do in the whole world was to call attention to herself. The whole idea was absurd. But she couldn't find it in herself to be mean, especially because all traces of the business- like promoter in Michael suddenly disappeared, and he began looking at her like a hopeful puppy. Lynn chose to be diplomatic. "I don't think you want me," she said, as graciously as she could. She could just as easily have said, 'I don't want you to want me' which was really what she meant. She also began to rise in an attempt to show him that their conversation had ended. A couple of hundred feet away, a right fielding senior named Owen Campbell smashed a fast ball thrown by another junior, a pitcher named Paul Wills high over the bleachers. A mighty roar came out of the dugout, for seldom before had such a forceful blow ever been struck by any member of the school baseball team. Many times in the past, great world-changing events have taken place by sheer chance. If the apple hadn't struck Newton on the head would he have discovered the Law of Gravity? Probably not. If Toulouse Lautrec hadn't fallen down the stairs and crippled himself as a young boy, would he have become a great painter? It's doubtful that he would have. So it is equally true that little accidents can change the lives of ordinary people, too. It happens every day. Just as Lynn rose from the bench, Owen Campbell's near legendary home run ball came hurtling down at her with all the apparent speed of a comet. Quick as a cat, Michael threw himself in front of her and deflected the ball from her face with his right hand. In doing so, his backward motion threw their bodies together and they became entangled, lost their balance and ended up rolling down the grass carpeted escarpment that drifted down from the bench to the walkway that in turn led back to the school building. Fortunately for them, the place where they stopped rolling was still sheltered by the tall hedges that kept other students from seeing their situation. And their situation was that Michael had ended up lying right on top of Lynn. They were both panting from the exertion and their shocked faces were lined up eye to eye and mouth to mouth. Michael's first concern was for her so breathing hard he asked, "Are you alright?" Lynn was amazed that she could sustain his weight on her without feeling that he was crushing her. His breath was sweet. "Yes, I'm okay," she answered, thinking at the same time that if either of them moved their heads an inch or two closer that they would be kissing. Right after that she had an immediate urge bordering on pure panic to get up, and it was just then that she realized that she had her arms around him. She must have done it to protect herself from injury when they were spinning down the hill. "Could you help me up, please?" she asked in a small voice. "I'm feeling kind of dizzy." Michael took care to gently lift himself off her, and then bracing himself on shaky legs, he pulled her forward to a sitting position. Lynn found that she wasn't ready to stand up just yet, and waved him away with a delicate gesture from her small, white hand. She drew her knees up and rested her forehead on them for a moment. Then she looked up at Michael. The sun was directly in her face, which made her squint. But it also lit up her hair with glints of light bright as diamonds. "Thank you for saving me from getting clobbered. Is your hand alright?" "It stings," Michael admitted. "I guess I won't be playing my guitar for a few days. Otherwise, I'm fine." He had saved her from a serious injury. She was obligated to him now. He could impose on her if he wanted to. They both knew it. Over the next few days, they didn't exactly avoid each other, but then they didn't exactly seek each other out, either. If they happened to pass each other in the hallway during a class change they would smile at each other and that's all. Once, when Michael held the door open for her as she left afternoon chorus loaded down with books and sheet music for the Spring Concert, they exchanged "Thanks!" and "How have you been?" and "Fine, and you?" and "Oh, I'm good, too, thanks for asking...." Lynn felt the eyes of some of the other girls boring into her with a mixture of curiosity and hostility for her apparent familiarity with a boy they all wanted to know and couldn't get anywhere with. And here she was the class freak, talking to him like they actually knew each other! Embarrassed, she just skittered away and never looked back. If she had looked back, she would have seen that a single sheet of loose-leaf paper had slipped out of her notebook and floated to the floor. The following Tuesday it was raining and Lynn had to take lunch in the school cafeteria. She would much rather have been outside. Spring was her favorite time of year. It was a dismal day. She sat near a window daydreaming and watching the rain crashing like bullets onto the overhang that protected the front entrance to the building. She had the table to herself. Lynn always sat alone. No one ever dared to be seen associating with her, unless it was to harass her, or to make fun of her. "Hi!" She almost jumped out of her skin! "Do you always have to sneak up on people?" she asked, half-angry and half not. "Uh, no.... Sorry!" Michael apologized, insinuating himself into the chair next to hers. Lynn regained control and backed off. "Oh, forget it! It's just that I get lost in my own head sometimes, and then all of a sudden you or somebody else interrupts me and I go on overload or something...." In fact, she was getting angry again about feeling that she had to explain herself. Why couldn't people just leave her alone? Michael remained calm and listened to her blurting away until she was finished. Then he said, "I know how you feel. I feel that way sometimes, too. I really am sorry to be clogging up your space, but I just wanted to give you this." And, with that, he pulled a videocassette out of his jacket pocket and put it on the table. Then he added, "Is that okay?" and proceeded to give her a look of such innocent hopefulness that she would have had to have been a complete witch not to agree. She nodded and said, "Okay." She was still feeling more than a tad imposed upon. Michael said, "You can give this back to me whenever," Then he got up and walked over towards the food line, turning back just once to look at her with a big, toothy smile. She had to admit to herself that he was really handsome, but that he could be kind of annoying, too. Lynn stared at the tape. She tapped her nails on the table and bit her lip. She just wanted to leave the tape there and walk away from it. But she had promised to take it, and Lynn kept her promises... but she was getting that feeling again. The feeling that she was a puppet on a string and he was the puppeteer. Worse, she was afraid that he had something cruel in store for her. She jammed the videotape into her bag and huffed off to her World History class. Lynn may have promised Michael that she would take the videocassette, but she'd never promised him that she'd watch it. She spent the night in her room, ignoring it. She watched television, speeded through her homework, wrote in her diary, and listened to Natalie Merchant CD's, and when she got to the song 'Tell Yourself' she played it over and over again. Then she took a nap during which she had a dream that she had gotten lost somehow in San Francisco (a city she had never visited in her life). In the dream she kept getting on one trolley after another, hoping that it would be the right one, and finding out in each case that it was the wrong one. She woke up perspired and exhausted. Ignoring that tape was wearing her out. She couldn't stand it anymore. She threw it out the window. She felt much better after that. She took a shower and went back to sleep. The next afternoon Mr. DiGisco called Lynn and Michael up to the front of the music room after class. He kept them standing near his desk until all the other students had left. Mr. DiGisco had always been very tolerant about Lynn being 'different'. More importantly, he had also helped her to find support groups and counselors to assist her in her transition. Lynn had a pretty good idea why he was so sympathetic, but she felt that she was just about the last person on earth to sit in judgment on Mr. DiGisco's masculinity. "I want to do something really special at this year's Spring Concert," he announced. Lynn and Michael glanced quickly at each other, then turned back to Mr. DiGisco to see what was going to be 'really special' about this year's concert. The choral director continued, "I've been talking with other music people about the songs we're going to perform and I've been getting a lot of good, creative feedback. I'm canning the material we were rehearsing. I've decided it might be nice to do a series of famous love duets instead. We'll start with a song from the 1930's and then the 1940's and so on until we get up to the present. How does that sound?" Mr. DiGisco seemed very pleased with himself. He looked happily at his two best vocalists, and confidently awaited their agreement. Michael nodded and said, "That sounds great, Mr. DiGisco." Lynn's mind worked furiously. She tried to see where this was all heading, and it looked like it was heading towards her becoming more involved with Michael when it was the very last thing she wanted. Was this some kind of a conspiracy? Who were the 'people' Mr. DiGisco had been consulting with? She peeked at Michael again. He was looking pretty smug. Lynn thought that singing a bunch of played out, cornball, old time songs would get them laughed out of the auditorium. She also thought it was boring. And she was confused about how it was all going to work. Mr. DiGisco would have to be out of his mind to think that she and Michael could appear on stage as a couple! No, he couldn't possibly be thinking that. He'd have to be a complete lunatic to be thinking that! It would cause a riot. She began to voice her reservations by saying, "Excuse me..." but it came out "Eecck!" "Pardon me, Lynn?" asked Mr. DiGisco. She started again. "Well, um, I think it's, uh, a great idea too, Mr. DiGisco, but, um, you don't mean that Michael and I are going to, uh...." But she didn't have the nerve to ask him what she really wanted to know. Mr. DiGisco waited for her to finish mumbling. He was looking a little impatient and a little pouty. That was not a good sign. Mr. DiGisco had a tendency to get cranky when things weren't going his way. When she flicked her eyes over at Michael she could see that he had that hopeful look she was beginning to hate on his face. She felt outnumbered and overwhelmed, and she changed what she was going to say. "W..We aren't going to be the only kids singing them, are we?" "Oh, no!" Mr. DiGisco reassured her. "I've already asked Sarah and Joe to sing a couple of songs, and Elaine and Graham are going to sing three." That was a relief! If she and Michael had been the only ones singing those horrible, embarrassing old standards then she had no doubt that the class clowns would be making fools out of them, imitating them, making jokes about them, and writing stuff on the bathroom walls about them until school was out for the summer. It was probably still going to happen, but at least they wouldn't be alone. Sarah and Joe and Elaine and Graham would be getting the same treatment... but, wait a minute! If everyone else was paired off, that just left her and Michael, and that nutty thought about being paired off as a couple came back into her head.... She had to ask! "Are Michael and I supposed to be singing these duets, um, together?" "Of course!" Mr. DiGisco answered crisply, giving her the same compassionate look that he would have given to any feeble-minded child. "Awesome!" Michael said. It was immediately clear to Lynn why Michael had left his swanky prep school. Obviously, he was insane. "How long have you two had this death wish?" Lynn wanted to know. Mr. DiGisco was unperturbed. "No one is ever going to know it's you on that stage, Lynn, because after my team and I get through with you, all everyone is going to see up there with Michael is a beautiful, glamorous teenage girl." Mr. DiGisco had always felt that Lynn was beautiful. She never saw herself that way. "This is so cool!" Michael said. Lynn's palms were beginning to sweat, and if she closed her eyes, she felt dizzy. "I don't understand," she said. "We're going to give you the mother of all makeovers, Lynn. I've been planning this for months," said Mr. DiGisco, and he went on to explain that the whole project would be conducted in secret. She and Michael would rehearse the songs and choreography away from the school grounds. Trusted friends of Mr. DiGisco's would handle her costume and make up and teach her whatever else she needed to know to complete the transformation into becoming Michael's singing partner, including stage movement, and some basic dance steps. She wouldn't be named in the concert program, and she would be hustled in and out of the school building on the night of the performance so quickly that no one would have a chance to recognize her. Only the three of them and the four other singers would ever know the truth about what had happened that night. "But, but..." "Yes?" replied Mr. DiGisco, raising his finely arched eyebrows. "Everyone will recognize my voice!" complained Lynn, desperately trying to think of objections to the plan. "No they won't," he said reassuringly. "Between the sound system, and the way I've prepared the arrangements for the songs, and the keys I'm going to have you singing in, and the way you're going to look, there's no way anyone will recognize your voice." It was too much to take in all at once. Lynn began to feel even dizzier, and although she didn't want to, she found herself holding onto Michael's arm to keep from falling. He didn't seem to mind in the slightest. In fact, he laid his hand over hers and squeezed it reassuringly, although Lynn was too numb to feel it. To tell the truth, there was a part of her that was thrilled. After all, wasn't this a real crossroads? It was certainly a defining moment that would set her on the road she had been planning to take all along. Did it really matter that it was happening right now, in the town she had been scheming to leave for so long? Actually, it was better. It struck her as being more honest than skulking away to become the girl she knew she was in some anonymous place. On the other hand, it was so scary! Lynn took a breath and said, "I think this is one of the craziest, most outrageous, most dangerous, most reckless ideas I've ever heard. It's never going to work!" "I'll take that as a yes!" said Mr. DiGisco, looking very happy. "And you knew all about this, too!" she said, giving Michael a look that was hurt, shy and baleful, all at the same time. "Not exactly," replied Michael, adding, "But I like it! And I know it's a big shock for you, but I also know it's going to work out beautifully." "How could you possibly know it's going to work?" Lynn demanded. "I just do," Michael answered with calm confidence. "Well, I don't!" she countered. "We might get away with doing the concert, but people talk. People can't keep a secret. Especially in high school! And later, when this gets around, you and I are going to be in big trouble!" Despite herself, Lynn began to sniffle. Michael hugged her, and Lynn was so distraught she let him do it. It was the first time she'd been hugged in a very long time and it felt just fine to be hugged like that. More than fine. Through that simple act, Michael had touched the spot in her heart where love had long been waiting to bloom. It was too much for her! Between the nervousness she was feeling and Michael's act of tenderness, Lynn started positively bawling her eyes out. "Lynn, your problem is that you don't trust enough," said Mr. DiGisco in a voice that was meant to encourage, rather than criticize her. "He's right, you know," added Michael, gently patting her on the back as if she was an unhappy little child. Lynn answered them, but since her face was pressed against Michael's chest, her words were lost. "What did you say dear?" asked Mr. DiGisco. "I'm a wimp!" wailed Lynn, pulling her face away from Michael's chest long enough to be heard, then burrowing back in to snivel some more. She realized that in some perverse way she was starting to enjoy herself. "Well, you're a wonderful wimp, anyway," said Michael. Not sure that he was getting out his message of support out to her in quite the way he wanted to, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. And even though her lips tasted of salt from all the crying, and even though it was only a very quick little kiss, Michael's heart swelled in his chest. "Stop that, Michael!" snapped Mr. DiGisco, suddenly remembering that he was a teacher. "This isn't the back seat of your father's Buick, you know! This is school! No demonstrations of affection are permitted here!" "Sorry, Mr. DiGisco." Of course, Michael wasn't sorry at all. The choral director lent Lynn his handkerchief, looked at her very sharply, and then asked, "Where are we with all this, Lynn? Is it a go or not?" To say that the next moment was a defining moment in Lynn's life would be pure understatement. She was standing in a room with the only two people in the world who really cared about her. One, she suspected, had deliberately gone to a great deal of trouble to find a way to help her to realize that she had value as a person-specifically, as the person she really was inside. And the other was the boy she'd been waiting for all her life. And he had just demonstrated his feelings for her in a clear, unambiguous manner. The two of them were both willing to take big risks for her sake. Obviously, they trusted her. All she had to do in return was trust them back. But after all she'd gone through in her life, Lynn had a really hard time with trust. It couldn't be developed instantly, like the photographs people took with digital cameras. It had to be grown, like the rows of pink and red and yellow pansies she had planted in a border around the shed where she kept her secret diary in her parents' yard. And that took time. So Lynn did what she always did when she was in a tight spot. She lied. "Okay, I'll do it," Lynn announced at last, giving each of them a clear untroubled look with eyes as green as emeralds. The recent flood of tears had only made them shine all the brighter, like the new spring grass after a rain shower, and no one looking at her could have doubted the sincerity of what she said. "You won't be sorry you made that decision, Lynn," said Mr. DiGisco, pulling sheet music from a shelf behind his desk. "You have no idea how much you're going to grow from this experience!" Michael asked Mr. DiGisco what songs he'd picked out. "Oh, great ones, of course! Songs with lots of great melodies, lots of good feelings!" The music teacher practically gushed with enthusiasm. "We're going to start off with 'Baby, It's Cold Outside,' like we were beginning the medley in winter, and then warm the audience up with some lovely romantic tunes that make everybody realize that it's Spring, the season of love...!" Lynn murmured, "Oh, please!" But she kept the rest of her thoughts private, and busied herself with drying the tearstains off Michael's shirt with the borrowed handkerchief. "...and I'm going to get some of the tech kids to light the stage to show how the seasons are changing before our eyes!" Mr. DiGisco handed them the music for two songs. "Who's Roy Orbison?" Lynn asked. Mr. DiGisco scratched his nose. "Roy Orbison was a famous Country and Western singer and he wrote the song 'That Lovin' You Feelin' Again' for a woman named Emmy Lou Harris. They won a Grammy with that back in 1980. You may never have heard of them, but most of the parents will recognize both them and the song. And this one, 'Let's Call the Whole Thing Off,' is a classic written by George Gershwin for a couple of actors named Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Ever heard of Gershwin?" "Oh, sure! Doesn't he do dog food commercials now or something like that?" Lynn asked. Michael tried to save the conversation. "She's kidding, Mr. DiGisco. As a matter of fact, just yesterday we were talking about the score from Gershwin's 'Porgy and Bess' and how cool it was. She's a real fan of his music. Aren't you, Lynn?" "Uh, yeah." The music teacher hardly heard him as his imagination churned out more and more elaborate staging ideas for the concert. "Do you two know how to tap dance?" The look of horror they both gave him was a clear sign that he had gone too far. Mr. DiGisco relented. "Never mind. Let's go over the songs a few times with piano accompaniment. You know, we may have to schedule some out- of-hours rehearsal time for this. Maybe we'll have to meet early in the morning, say around six o'clock or so...." Lynn's eyes rolled in her head. She was not a morning person. "...and wear a skirt and heels, Lynn. You need time to get used to moving around the stage with them on." "Are you serious?" Lynn demanded. "Yes. Of course." She stared at him for a moment, then blinked, turned and walked out of the classroom. If Mr. DiGisco wanted heels and a skirt, she'd give him heels and a skirt. The rehearsal that took place the next morning went well. The other kids had already been briefed on what Mr. DiGisco was planning to do, and they were unexpectedly enthusiastic about it. At least they acted like they were. Most of them had hardly even talked to Lynn before but she found them suddenly friendly. For example, when she got to Mr. DiGisco's house a few minutes late and spent the next couple of minutes apologizing her head off for keeping everyone waiting, Elaine had actually given her a hug and told her to forget it because divas were always late. Everyone had a good snort and a chuckle over that remark. And no one made her feel self-conscious about showing up in make up, a tailored white blouse, nylons, black skirt and matching pumps. To them it was just a costume, not a symbol for a choice in lifestyle. Michael whispered something to her during the break about how cute she looked. That sentiment was silently evidenced by the two other boys, who, despite themselves, spent a fair amount of time checking out her sassy little butt when they thought no one else was looking. Gershwin's lyrics seemed as corny as Lynn had feared. On the bus trip home, she couldn't get the argument about how to pronounce the names of fruits and vegetables that took place between the boy and the girl in the song out of her head. The only part she liked was the refrain, 'Let's call the whole thing off', which she would have been delighted to do if only she could find her way out of it. She liked the Orbison much better. There were honest feelings behind the words. It wasn't just clever like the first song. The second songwriter seemed to understand what it cost to lose someone you loved. Mr. DiGisco had arranged the music so that all three pairs of kids were singing parts of it at different times and sometimes all of them were singing together and that made the overall effect very dramatic, too. Lynn knew she'd have no problem singing the melody line, but she wasn't so sure about being able to portray the emotions behind the lyrics. Lynn had never experienced that kind of love, or any kind of love for that matter. She didn't think she was capable of handling such intense, frightening feelings. How could she ever trust a boy enough to give him that much power over her heart anyway? He might break it. And wasn't that how the refrain in the first song, the silly song, ended? "...And Oh! If we ever had to part, that would surely break my heart...." Who was she kidding? She had no intention of singing those songs in front of an audience. She wasn't going to give Michael the chance hurt her. She was going to implement 'Plan R.' She was going to make a run for it. True, she wasn't quite ready, but the situation was getting too complicated, and it was the only thing she could do. It made her feel like a rat, but she had to protect herself. She knew she had to do it soon, so they'd have time to find a replacement for her. She just needed a few more days... It all could have been avoided if Lynn had just refused to do the concert. She couldn't stand being so unassertive! Why couldn't she stand up for herself? Why couldn't she just say no? But she had never been able to do that. She always ended up telling everyone what they wanted to hear, and becoming whatever they needed her to be. She was Lynn, the universal doormat. She had done it ever since she was a little kid, starting with her parents. Like many children from dysfunctional families, she blamed herself for being the reason her parents fought with each other all the time. So she conditioned herself never to say or do anything that would set her parents off. It was her way of becoming invisible, because if she was invisible then she wasn't responsible. When she got to her room, Lynn took a nap. She was taking a lot of naps lately. They always seemed to clear her head when there was too much going on, and given the events of the last couple of days, she felt that there was entirely too much going on. But the naps she'd taken recently hadn't been very restful because of the disturbing dreams she'd been having which were almost, but not quite like nightmares. This time she dreamed about having to run up and down endless flights of stairs to avoid being hit by flying baseballs. She woke up an hour later to a persistent knocking on her bedroom door, and her mother announcing that it was time to make dinner. Bleary-eyed, she dragged herself back downstairs to peel potatoes and set the table. Dinner was tense. It usually was tense. Her father wasn't home yet, so he was probably out drinking with his buddies. On the weekends, he stayed home and drank himself into a coma, which kept things fairly peaceful. But weeknights, he would deliberately skip dinner and stop at the bar on his way home. He always seemed to drink just enough to make him moody and more than ready for a fight. If Lynn's mother was sober when he came in, she could usually handle him. But when she'd been drinking too, the slightest excuse could set them at each other's throats like a couple of pit bull terriers. Lynn watched her mother go into the kitchen. She heard the sound of the refrigerator opening and closing, and ice clinking against glass. That wasn't a good sign. Later, when she was taking the garbage out, she kicked something with her foot. She stared at it for a few seconds before realizing that the black rectangular thing lying on the grass was the videocassette that Michael had given her. She felt a wave of guilt. She had forgotten all about it. It was covered with dew and thoroughly wet. Picking it up by one of the corners, she took it up to her room and dried it out with her hair dryer and then placed it on her pile of videotapes. She supposed that if Michael had taken the trouble to make it, she ought to watch it. Maybe tomorrow? She was in the mood to watch 'Magnolia,' a film about parents who destroyed their children by neglecting them, or exploiting them or deserting them. She'd seen 'Magnolia' about twenty times. And, although she didn't acknowledge it, the film fed some kind of masochistic need in her. About twenty minutes into the film she had to turn the sound up in order to hear it over the argument that was raging between her mother and father downstairs. During rehearsal the next morning, Mr. DiGisco had them practice a few simple dance steps that required the boy singers to put their arms around the girls' waists and swing them around. It was the first time that Michael had touched her in front of the other performers and it made Lynn very tense. Michael could feel her flinching every time he held her. In all innocence, he thought she must have hurt herself when they were rolling down the hill during the baseball incident and hadn't told him. "Am I holding you too tight?" he asked during a break. "No. I'm just nervous." "Want to go to the mall after school today?" he asked, shyly. "No, thank you." "Did you get a chance to look at the video yet?" "No." "How about a movie tonight?" "Sorry. I have a big science test tomorrow." "Can I at least drive you home?" "Okay." Damn! She'd done it again! She'd said yes when she meant no. Despite her misgivings, Michael's behavior was reassuring on the drive home. He made her laugh at his comic impressions of Mr. DiGisco's over-the-top personality, they exchanged opinions about their favorite pop singers, and they shared meaningless chitchat about some of the kids they knew in common. Everything was very casual and Lynn felt no pressure as long as Michael acted like a friend, and she told him that. "Then can friends go to the movies together? As friends, I mean," asked Michael. "This is the second time you've asked me that question today," Lynn complained. But she thought about it for a minute before answering. A film she'd been wanting to see for a long time was playing in a town a good twenty miles from where they both lived. And it was an art house theater too, so it was practically guaranteed to be teenager-proof. She would feel pretty safe there. "If we did go, could we see 'Far From Heaven'?" "Of course," Michael replied affably. Lynn bit her lip and thought about it some more. "Okay. I mean, we can go... as friends." As soon as she agreed she regretted it, but there was nothing to be done now but to go. Michael clenched his hand over his head and hissed, "Yesssssss!" like a sportscaster announcing a big play for the home team, then turned to reach for something in the back seat. It was a box from an expensive store downtown. "This is for you to wear tonight," he said. "I can't accept that." "Please. It's for tonight. But, if you don't like it, I'll understand," said Michael, suddenly very earnest. "The fact that you bought that for me means you take me for granted. Please don't ever take me for granted. It's insulting!" "At least take a look at it." Lynn refused to answer him. She listened to the engine idle and stared at the glove compartment door. They had reached an impasse. She sighed. "Please. I was so sure you'd like it, I felt I had to buy it for you," implored Michael, giving it one last shot. It hurt her heart to hear him sound so forlorn. She decided that his only offense to her was in trying to be nice, and who was she to make him sad like that? Lynn took the box from him and began to open it, but Michael stopped her by pressing his hand over hers. "It's a surprise. Take it inside with you, then you can look." "Okay. Just to see it. But don't be disappointed if I give it back to you." "No. No. That's fine." Lynn didn't kiss him good-bye. Instead she brushed her cheek against his to show him that she wasn't angry anymore. What was in the box turned out to be a lovely yellow dress with a flair skirt. When she tried it on and studied it in the mirror, she was pleased. The look was innocent. It was wholesome. It fit her to a tee. She wondered if this was the way Michael really saw her, if he saw her the way she saw herself. It certainly seemed so. That thought was very agreeable to her. Yes, she would wear the dress. Now what shoes would go with it? She began walking towards her closet, feeling as close to happy as she ever got, preparing for the first date of her life.