The Prom Queen: A Story About A Lovely Boy – Part Four free porn video

The Prom Queen: A Story About a Lovely Boy - Part Four Copyright, 2006 by K. G. Communications Even though his attorney had arranged to have Corey excused on the day after the School Board meeting, so as to avoid the many distractions that an interested media might create, Corey was determined to go to school, as he had done in the past few weeks, dressed in his unisex manner. "Thanks," he told the attorney, Kristen, "but I have come this far and don't see any reason to shy away from any hassles. They'll be hassling me whenever I return." "You're a brave girl," the attorney said, already in the practice of addressing Corey as if he was a girl. "And thank you, too, for loaning me the nightie," Corey said. "I felt so good in it." She gave Corey a gentle hug and kiss as the two prepared to leave the house the following morning. Kristen dropped Corey off at school and he strode purposefully into the school, not sure what to expect. He couldn't believe his eyes; already the prom queen campaigning had begun. Nicole's poster, showing her superimposed upon the arms of a handsome Carver High School baseball player, was the first to be seen, prominently pasted on the wall at the entrance. To the left, was a picture of himself, in his tutu, and a poster saying "Vote Corey ... the Special Queen." "Wow," he said to himself. He wondered who had done this, and before he knew it there was a chorus of cheers: "Corey! Corey! Corey!" Standing there was Carol and most of the ballet class, beaming brightly. "You're our girl, and we are your campaign managers," she announced. "What do you think about the poster?" asked another of the girls. Corey was a little confused. "A special queen?" "Of course, you're special," Carol responded, "And in more ways than one." "We're going to plaster these all over school," another chimed in. Corey looked at the picture, astounded at how totally female he looked. The picture made him look as pretty as any ballerina, posing on point, with his slender legs and arms. "When was that picture taken?" he asked. "Tanya had her digital camera one day and she took it during dress rehearsal while you were so busy trying to stay on point that you didn't notice," Carol said. "Yeh, we all wanted you to run for prom queen, so we've been planning your campaign for weeks," the first girl said. Other kids were running in, trying not to be late for class, but several stopped and looked at the picture, standing in disbelief. "Is that really Corey? He looks like a girl," said a chubby faced boy. "Gosh, he's as pretty as any of the girls in my class," said a slender boy. A greasy haired pimply boy was heard to say, "Love to roll with her in the hay. Wonder what I'd find." Several girls came by, stopping and looking. "Icky, that's so disgusting. A boy dressed in skirt," said one. "No, she's for real. She looks like a queen," said her friend in disagreement. There were taunts coming from a gaggle of boys, trotting through the door, seeing Corey's picture. "Hey sissy!" "Hey, girlie, wanna see what I got?" "You're a disgrace." By now Corey had become used to the phrases; none of them were very original, and he said, "Can't they think of anything new to say?" He giggled and the girls of his ballet class giggled too. Corey felt so good to be so liked by the girls in the class; they had gotten his campaign off to a wondrous start. Then, the warning bell rang for classes. At third hour ballet class, Carol told Corey that Nicole had another scheme; now she was going to ask the Student Council to rule that only genetic girls could be prom queen candidates. After all, she had reasoned, the School Board's action only ruled that it would not interfere in the actions of the Council in setting eligibility. "She wants the Council to rescind its earlier actions, and she is working over Todd Spencer, the president to call for a new vote," Carol explained. "Yeah," Tanya said. "I think she's afraid she'll lose. The buzz around school is that the kids are excited about this and many think Corey is the prettiest girl in the running." "She is the prettiest. Our Corey is going to be queen," said Wanda, a freshman dance student who was so tiny she looked like a grade schooler. "Yea!" giggled the girls in unison. Tanya said, "Don't worry about Todd. I know him, and I think he won't reopen this. He's open-minded, and I think he supports your right to run as 'queen'." The girls had gone to the dance teacher and suggested that the class work together on putting together a routine for Corey that would help him do well in the talent portion of the competition. Ms. Simmons, however, said it would be unfair to use class time to assist one of the candidates, and not the others. "I'll let you work it out here after school and during lunch time," she said. "If other candidates want to use the room, too, I'll have to allow them, too, and you'll have to work out a schedule," she said. She also told them that Pang Xiong, another of the candidates, had asked to practice on the piano in the dance room and that the girls would have to work out a fair schedule. Pang was a particularly lovely Hmong girl whose piano talent had already dazzled the students. "That'll work out OK," said Carol. "Pang is a sweet girl." The class schedule that day was to practice swan routines for the segment of "Swan Lake" they were to perform at their annual dance concert in May, two weeks after the prom. Corey by now had become quite accomplished as a dancer, showing athletic prowess he never knew he had. In addition, he had displayed particularly lovely grace in his dance, blending in as one of the girls. He felt so light and excited as he performed, especially when they are all dressed in costume, as they were today. The chorus of dancers had become so fluid and together during the months after Corey joined them that Ms. Simmons said they were the "best group of girls" she had ever had. As she said that, she halted for a minute, as if to add "and a boy," but she left it at "girls". Corey was glad she did, for he indeed had become a girl when in that class. The photo on the poster made Corey look particularly feminine. His legs had firmed up with the ballet class work, but maintained their slender profile, the narrow ankles and heavier thighs that made him so feminine. Of course, his slender, smooth arms and lovely shoulders were exposed in the ballet dress. "You'd never know that you're not a girl from that photo," commented his friend, Michael, at lunch hour. "I know," Corey replied. "The girls in ballet did that poster for me. They treat me as a girl. I could probably walk in the girl's bathroom and they'd probably not even care." "I consider you my girl friend. Hope you don't mind." They were seated on a bench out on the patio area; it was a pretty day for April as the buds were suddenly bursting out, creating a fresh greenness, missing since last autumn. Corey was sitting in a feminine fashion, his legs together, and turned slightly toward Michael; their thighs were lightly touching and Michael had taken Corey's hand in his own, his fingers gently caressing the soft whiteness of Corey's forearms. "Oh Michael, that's so nice. You're such a sweet boy." "I'd love to kiss and hug you right here and now, but I guess we'd get suspended." They laughed quietly, and looked at each other, eyes meeting. Michael had been such a good friend; Corey felt this tall, awkward boy could have protected him from all dangers, as any man would for his woman. "Michael, I'm sorry I'm not a real girl for you." Michael massaged Corey's soft forearms slowly, saying, "Corey, to me, you are my girl. You excite me so much." Thinking no one was looking, Corey gave Michael a quick peck on the cheek. Feeling so elated, Corey pondered whether they were in love. Neither one of them had ever dated before, and Corey wondered whether they'd know "love" if it came their way. Corey then said, "I think I'm in love with you." The minute those words were out of his mouth, Corey remembered Mark's whispered, "I love you," the night of the School Board meeting. Was he, Corey, in love with two boys now? He wished, suddenly, he hadn't encouraged Michael in this? How could they possibly know of love at this point in their young lives, and with Corey's questionable gender! But Michael responded eagerly, "Oh Corey, me too. I think we're in love." Their intimate joy was interrupted by a boisterous shout, "Look at the queers." Jason, the bully, had come up from behind them, his fat belly jiggling. Corey had a sick feeling; this jerk would talk far and wide, ruining the reputations of both himself and Michael, cheapening their true feelings. Before he could respond, Michael leaped up and grabbed Jason, holding him by his arms. "Look you weasel, we're not gay... and we're just good friends. If you say a word about this, I'll wrap you up and toast you like the pig you are. Got me?" He twisted Jason's chubby arms behind him, pulling them up tight. "You hear me?" Jason winced in pain and a futile effort to fight back, but he was too weak. "Yes. Yes. Didn't mean any harm. Really." "Ok, then. If I hear you blabbing this about, I'll turn Corey loose on you. Remember last time! She humiliated you." Corey interjected, "Michael, let him go. And, Jason, come here and sit with us a minute." When the three were seated, Corey said, "Look, Jason, would you like to be on my campaign committee?" Jason looked stunned. "What? I'd be laughed at and be called a sissy or homo." "Yes, probably so, but it's time you stood up to them. They're all jerks, and you're smarter than all of them put together." "You think so?" "Yes, I do. Think about it. I know you can write good stuff. I need a campaign speech; maybe you could do that for me, in private. No one would have to know." "Really?" Jason got up and waddled away, agreeing to get back to Corey. "That was neat," said Michael. "Getting him on board so he won't blab." "That wasn't the only reason. I feel sorry for him, being so fat. He's just looking for friendship, and I think that's why he likes to be a loudmouth sometimes." "We'll see. Besides, wouldn't he look better in a dress? All that girly fat?" "Now Michael, should I be jealous?" "No. You're my girl." "And you're my knight, saving his damsel in distress." They both smiled, as the bell rang for 5th hour classes. It was agreed that Carol, Tanya and several of the girls who were free would meet for a half an hour after school to discuss Corey's routine; the room had been promised after that to Pang. "Your biggest competition, Corey, is either Nicole, 'cause she's so much of the 'in' crowd, and Pang, since she's so cute and smart and so talented," Tanya said as they gathered. "I guess you're right," Corey said. "I'd hate to lose to Nicole, she's such a bitch. Pang, however, is OK. I like her." Carol said, "Let's not worry about who the competition is. Let's just make sure Corey would make the best queen." They tossed around several ideas. Corey's talent show would have to be a dance routine, since he had no other known talents and since he had developed so remarkably in the dance class. "Could Corey do the solo from Swan Lake?" asked Tanya. "She could," responded Carol, "But I don't think that would excite anyone much." "But it shows how feminine she can be," Tanya countered. Corey smiled. The girls were now commonly referring to him as "her", or "she". He felt so good about it. "Any other ideas, then?" Tanya asked. "I could dress and dance as a doll, a Barbie doll," Corey suggested. "How cute!" Carol said. "Ballet Barbie," said Tanya. "You're legs are almost as pretty as Barbie's," Carol added. They all laughed, since Corey's legs were long and pretty, but no girl ever had the perfect legs of Barbie. "I got another idea," Tanya said. "Let's have Corey dress with under clothes of a ballerina and outer clothes being a sweat outfit. We could put props out onstage, one being a warrior 'Ken' doll, and the other being a sweet 'Barbie'." "Yes, then what," Corey wondered. "You could dance out, and examine both items, ponder over them, before deciding which one to play with, choosing Barbie, and then removing your outer clothes to reveal the real girl you are." They agreed that would be a good theme, and they'd work out the details later. Pang had entered the room to begin her practicing. Corey greeted her, and smiled, saying, "Best of luck to you, Pang." "Same to you Corey," Pang replied, adding with a twinkle, "May the best girl win." Corey responded with an exaggerated curtsey, and they both laughed. No, Corey would not mind being second to Pang. At home, now, he was always dressed in his girl outfits, and his sisters and mom had accepted it as natural. After school, he put on shorts and a tank top or sleeveless tee shirt over his bra and panties. If it was cool, he'd put on a pair of Capri pants or slacks, and always he wore short-heeled sandals that exposed his painted toe nails. Ronnette, who was big for her age, as Corey was small for his age, wore clothes nearly the same size as Corey, and they began interchanging outfits, comparing dresses and other clothing. Corey was asking Ronnette often to assist in brushing his hair, and together the two of them had begun designing dresses. "Hey sis," Ronnette said one day; she had begun using "sis" to address Corey. "I want to make you a special dress, something you can wear out with boys. And you can help me sew." "Oh Ronnie, such a dreamy idea," Corey answered. "Oh yes, I can do lots of the sewing, and we can work together." Their mother thought it was a great idea, and the two of them that night worked up several ideas that he would share with his "committee" of girls (and Jason) the next day. Corey had become quite an accomplished seamstress in recent months, even cutting and designing a simple skirt from a pattern. He loved shopping for materials, running them through his hands, holding colors up to his face to see if they'd work for him. He handled the cloth daintily and with reverence, indicating how he enjoyed the feeling of silk or nylon or even cotton. His mannerisms had become so feminine that with his long hair and slender build he was usually mistaken for a girl, even when dressed in jeans. He loved it when he was addressed with phrases like, "May I help you, miss?" That night he couldn't sleep. He finally realized that he was indeed becoming so female and that there may soon be no turning back. Virtually everyone had accepted him now as a girl, and called him "she" or referred to "her". And, the attention of boys was growing, and he found he liked being a "girl friend". He adored Michael, and wanted badly to be in his arms, to be cuddled and caressed and kissed, as a girl would. He wanted to walk hand in hand with Michael, his boy friend, in the park, feeling the budding sexual warmth between the two. Dennis, too, the college boy, had called again, still in the dark as to Corey's genetic gender. He called Corey the "prettiest girl" he knew, and maybe the smartest. They loved talking about literature, movies and romantic themes as they sat together on a park bench or fast food restaurant, Dennis' fingers caressing Corey smooth inner forearms. Of course, there was Mr. Mathias, the coach, with whom Corey had experienced his first kiss (other than from a relative), and for whom he had also found attraction. He often thought it was Mr. Mathias who brought out the girl in him. Then, finally, there was Mark, who got him started on this girly path and for whom he was a prom date. It was apparent Mark had now also accepted him as a "girl," and may indeed be growing in passion for Corey. For himself, Corey was excited with the prospect of being in the arms of such a handsome, strong boy, feeling his muscles and enjoying his protection. Yet, he was not a girl; his manhood was most intact, and was most active, causing him to masturbate often, as he lay in bed thinking of being a girl in the arms of a lover, his legs open with a real vagina ready to receive the lover. But, what kind of lover? If he became a girl, what kind of girl would he be? A warm, loving girl who adored her family, who cooked and sewed and washed? Or, a slut who would go to bed with any man she met? Or, a professional woman of grace and style? Corey felt that he was at one time or the other all of them. All he knew for sure was that he enjoyed being a girl. The campaign committee supporting Corey was in full swing, headed by Carol and with the artistic guidance of Tanya. In addition, Jason, the fat bully, had become a welcome member, with his wit and creative ideas. Corey could now see why he had been able to win over the thugs in the school; he kept them laughing. "I like him," Carol said one afternoon as the group began to assemble. "I guess he was acting like a jerk just to be one of them." It was Jason, however, who broke the news that Nicole was successful in getting the Student Council to again review Corey's eligibility to be prom queen. It turned out the Todd Spencer, the Council president, had a girl friend who was a friend of Nicole's and she had pressured Todd into scheduling the meeting. "This foolishness has gone far enough," Tanya said. "Nicole's a spoiled brat, but this is one fight she's not going to win." Carol seconded her thoughts, saying, "Corey's already proven he's as much a girl as any of them." "And much sweeter," chimed in Jason, with a slight giggle. Perhaps, Corey thought, the food-hog Jason considered Corey to be as luscious as angel food cake, as he responded with a giggle. Corey's campaign committee came up with a strategy, and he was astonished how clever they were. The Student Council was to meet on Monday, four days from now, after school, and Corey would be able to be present and provide information, if he wished. He could even have others there. It was to be an exciting time. The following day was Friday, and Corey found himself in a dilemma; it was only a situation that a pretty girl would face - two dates for the same night. At lunch, Michael had suggested that they go to see the local ballet company perform on Saturday night and maybe a hamburger later on. Michael and Corey sat together on their favorite bench, Michael's fingers playing gently with Corey's thighs as he proposed the date. "I want you to dress very pretty for me, OK?" he said. "Like your girl friend, right?" "Yes, you make such a pretty girl." As school was ending, Mark approached Corey, asking if he could walk Corey home. "Oh, yes, Mark. That'll be sweet," Corey responded, speaking as a girl would welcoming a boy to walk with her. The two had walked several blocks, with Mark even inquiring, "Are those books too heavy for you? Let me help you carry them." "No silly, I'm not helpless." Corey smiled. He was treating me as his girl friend, even opening the door for Corey as they left school. It was so sweet of him, and Corey was excited to play along, to act the part of being the girl friend of the most popular boy in school. They walked without saying much for a while, appearing like two teen lovers walking the streets on a warm spring afternoon, just as the trees were bursting into green. Mark finally stopped at a stonewall that bordered the sidewalk in front of the public library. "Let's sit here for a minute," he said. They sat close to each other, legs crossed and knees touching and after the put their books down, Mark took both of Corey's hands in his and asked, "You know I meant what whispered in your ear at the School Board meeting?" For a moment Corey was puzzled, recalling only that Corey had only whispered that he'd make a great queen. Then he remembered the mouthed words, "I love you." Mark continued, "I said 'I love you.' It wasn't loud, and I want to make sure you heard me." Corey had heard those words, and he merely nodded slightly. "Oh Corey, I mean that. I love you." Corey was speechless. He withdrew his hands from Mark's grip and tears came to his eyes, and he began to cry. "Oh, I don't want you to cry. Have I hurt you?" "No," he answered, between sobs. "It's just .... Oh, it's just that this is so weird." "Oh Corey, honey, I know. But I love you as a girl. And, I love you as a boy, but really I love you because you're you. That's not weird." "Mark, I've always worshipped you. You're such a hero, and you've always been my friend, my protector." Corey wanted desperately to thrown himself into the arms of Mark, to have Mark hold his slender body tightly and to have kisses. Since they were in front of the Library Corey knew he must restrain himself. Mark suggested that the two of them go out on a "date", as their first official date Saturday night. "Oh Mark," Corey said, remembering his date with Michael. "I don't know." "What's wrong? Don't you want to?" "Mark, I never knew you felt this way about me. Let me think about it." "Oh Corey, I understand, but you're so special with me." Corey was in a quandary; both boys were so nice to him. They both loved him for being such a special girl, and he loved them both, but each in a different way. And, Corey felt, he was indeed now a girl, if not in his anatomy, at least in his mind and heart. Corey knew his mannerisms had become feminine. As he sat on the library's stonewall, his Capri-panted legs were crossed, his slender hands lay on his lap and he felt totally feminine. He knew that anyone passing by would view them as a teenage couple, perhaps even lovers. It was a heady feeling for Corey. Mark continued, apologizing for breaking off his invitation to be his prom queen nominee, and then reissuing it. "I was getting lots of crap about asking you," he said. "Not only from the usual jerks, but from my teammates." "Oh Mark," Corey replied. "I know, and I forgave you. You were in a tough position." Mark put his hand on Corey's hands, caressing them. "I'm not sure what to make of this feeling about you, but it's so real. I want you so bad to be my girl." "Oh Mark, honey. I feel like a girl, but I'm not. I'm still a boy. Not much of a boy, but still a boy." Corey giggled. "Corey, right now you're the loveliest girl in town. I hope you can be my date Saturday night." They agreed Corey would check with his mother about Saturday night and he'd call later. When he got home, his sister, Ronnette said, there'd been a call for either a "Heather" or a "Corey" from a boy named "Dennis". Ronnie wanted to know: Who is Heather? It was obvious that Dennis now knew the "Heather" was not an old high school girl, but was "Corey", the guy who would be a queen. Corey wasn't sure he wanted to talk with Dennis, after having deceived him. "He's calling back in a few minutes," Ronnie said. "He sounds like a nice boy." "Never you mind, little sister." The call came a few minutes later, and Corey took it on the portable phone, going into the bedroom for privacy. The call took an awkward direction. "Heather ... ah ... ah ... I mean Corey, this is Dennis. Remember me." "Oh Dennis, of course, I do. You're so sweet to call." "Corey, shall I call you that?" "Yes, Dennis, and I'm so sorry for lying to you. For not being who and what I said I was." "Oh Corey, that's OK." He explained he saw the TV stories about the prom queen election, and recognized Mark and soon realized that the girl named "Heather" be met in the mall was indeed a boy named Corey. He had gotten a full explanation from Lynn, Mark's sister, at college. "And Corey?" "Yes, Dennis." "I still think you're one of the prettiest girls around, and I'd love for us to continue to be friends." "You're so sweet to say that, but really you don't have to. I lied to you." "Corey, I want to be friends with you, to date you as a girl." "You know, Mark is my date for the prom, and he's beginning to date me. I don't know Dennis." "Oh Corey, I won't push you. Let's just be friends. I felt so proud being with you, you're so pretty." "And you're so nice," was all Corey could say. "You know when I held you in my arm and kissed you, that was the best kiss I ever had, Corey." Corey explained the next two weeks would be busy, because of planning for the prom, but that perhaps Dennis could call after that. Corey was all flushed as his returned to the living room, and Ronnie's inquisitive stares. "You're one popular girl; that's all I can say," she teased. "Hope I get as many calls when I'm in high school. Now let's get working on your dress." Corey now realized how exciting - and complicated - it could be for a "popular girl". Oh, she felt so much a girl, indeed. He was dressing totally with women's undergarments now, even if he wore boy clothes over them. He favored trim cut, cotton panties, usually with colorful print designs, and a camisole with built in bra which he had to stuff with filler, and that still bothered him as he wished someday to have real breasts. As he dropped his Capri pants and slipped off his unisex blouse, he looked in the mirror, seeing his slender, trim body. The ballet classes had firmed up his legs, which previously had been soft and fleshy; yet, he would never develop bulging muscles. His slender arms and shoulders were smooth and still underdeveloped, and it appeared his hips were broadening, although he couldn't figure out if that was possible. He tried not to do any exercises that would develop muscular arms or shoulders, and he still looked as vulnerable and weak as a teen girl. In good fun one day, Carol teased and said she was stronger than he was. Would he like to arm wrestle? No, he replied, that was OK, you're stronger, he said, but he couldn't get out of the match. Try as he might, he couldn't beat Carol; she pinned him quickly, as did Dianna and Teresa who were standing by watching and then joined in. "Aw, you weren't trying," they said. "You didn't wanna show us up." "Not really," he said. "That's the best I could do." They didn't believe him, didn't think he could be so weak. But the fact was, he couldn't have beaten any one of them. "Just more proof that I'm a girl," he said, and they laughed. Done with musing about his girliness, Corey put on a pair of pink shorts, and a lavender tank top and went out to work with Ronnie. "You're really more and more a girl every day, sis," she said, as they sat down to pin up the pattern before sewing the dress. "I hope I'll be as pretty as you are now." "Oh Ronnie, you'll be very pretty as you grow up," Corey said. He gave Ronnie a gentle sisterly hug. Everything about his life now seemed to point to his being feminine, to be a girl. Was he actually now thinking like a girl, acting like a girl and talking like one? Indeed, he must be a girl, he thought; most everyone treated him as one these days. Corey's thoughts, however, were occupied by a tension: how was he to solve the problem of being asked out on dates Saturday night by two boys, and two boys he cared deeply for. There was Mark, whose arms he longed to have engulfing him, pulling him tightly and holding him. There was Michael, the awkward, sweet boy, who first admired him as a girl. "Oh Ronnie," he confessed. "I don't know what to do. Both Mark and Michael have asked me out for Saturday night." "See. You're a popular girl. Most girls would love your problem." "What should I do? They're both such nice boys. I don't wanna hurt either of them." "Who asked you first?" "Michael did." "Well that's simple," Ronnie said. "Just tell Mark you already have a date." "Oh but Mark's my prom date. I think he thinks I'm really his girl friend." "Well, Michael still asked you first. Did you know Mark cared so much about you when Michael asked you?" "Well, no." "Then tell Mark you can't. Go on, big sister. Tell him." Corey hugged Ronnie and said he was going over to talk to Mark at his house. Mark was home alone doing his homework when Corey got there; Corey had not worn a jacket as the spring day was unusually warm, and was still in his casual outfit, shorts and tank top. "Wow, do you look great, Corey." Corey blushed, realizing he indeed did look very girlish and probably like a cute teen girl. "You do too, Mark." Mark was wearing jeans, cut above the knees and a torn tee shirt that fit tight upon his muscular chest and exposed his hard, biceps and burgeoning forearms. Corey suggested they needed to talk for a minute, and Mark led them to a couch in the living room, where they instinctively sat together, Corey turning his legs toward Mark, so that their knees slightly brushed each other. He held his hands clasped primly on his lap, and Mark put his right hand over them. Corey looked at Mark, his eyes watering with a longing he had never felt before. He wanted so much for Mark to grab him, pull him tightly and kiss him. "I'm so in love with this boy," Corey found himself thinking. In his mind now, he was only a girl sitting next to the most handsome, sweetest boy in the world. "What is it?" Mark asked, while making no more move to become more affectionate. "Oh Mark, I like you so much." "Corey, I know that. And, honey, I think I'm in love with you. Remember?" "Oh, Mark, I feel like I really am a girl. And, that you're my boy friend." "I know." "It's so wrong though, isn't it? I'm not really a girl." "Oh yes, you are! The prettiest girl in school right now." "Oh Mark, you're so sweet to say that." "You are!" Corey responded by giving Mark as short, quick Kiss on the cheek, and Mark put his strong arms around Corey, drawing him closer and they hugged. "Oh Corey, you are truly a girl. You're so soft and sweet to hold. So fragile and feminine." Corey felt so marvelous. Was this not the most wonderful moment of his life? To be held in the arms of the boy of his dreams! "Oh Mark," he finally said, as they released each other from the embrace. "That makes what I have to tell you so difficult." "What's that?" "I should have told you at the time. The time when you asked me out for Saturday night." "Told me what?" "That I already had been asked out for a date on Saturday night, and I had accepted." "Oh?" "But I didn't want to make you mad. I might lose you." "Who asked you?" "Michael did. And he's been such a sweetie." Mark thought for a minute. "Oh Corey, I told you twice now that I love you. It's so strange. We're boys! We're not gay, but Corey I think I'm falling in love with you as a girl." "Oh Mark, I feel I am your girl. I must really be a girl down deep somewhere." "But, honey, I really haven't made that clear until now, and Michael asked you earlier." "Yes, he did. And, even before you made clear how you felt." "Well, then you must go with him." "Oh Mark, you're so marvelous," Corey said and again kissed Mark. They held the embrace for several minutes, Mark strong hands caressing Corey's soft arms and slender back. His fingers moved to Corey's thighs, which had become firmed through ballet, but retained their feminine beauty. Their encounter ended innocently after the prolonged embrace, and Corey literally ran home, his legs now taking on a feminine gait. Corey moved along, like being on a cloud; he felt spacey, a bit giddy and also very frightened. He now believed he was a girl; yet, he still had his penis and that should make him a boy. That would mean, too, that being with Mark was all wrong, that it would mean they were indeed gay. This was all happening so fast. "I am a girl," he said, finally, realizing that many challenges lay ahead. But, it felt right, being a girl. "But I need to plan for the Student Council meeting," Corey said to Carol on Friday. "It's coming up Monday." "No, Corey, don't worry about it." Carol smiled, her freckled, round face gathering an impish glint. "We've got it under control." "But, Carol, Nicole has put the screws to Todd Spencer, the student council president. She's bound and determined to knock me out of the race." "The bitch," Carol said. She rarely used such crude words. "Don't worry your pretty little head about this, Corey. You just show up, dressed as you normally do in school." Corey blushed, and gave Carol a warm hug. How lucky he was, Corey felt. There were friends like Carol, who worked so hard to support Corey. She's a true gem, and Corey realized, perhaps a bit vainly, that he was indeed a prettier girl than Carol would ever be, with her plain, round features and pale, freckled complexion. But Carol, Corey realized, too, was one of those persons whose beauty was real and sincere and true. It made him realize how blessed he was to have the natural beauty of a pretty girl. He only hoped his inner beauty was as deep as Carol's. "Carol, you're the truest friend a girl could have," Corey said. He was now beginning to refer to himself as "girl", and it just came out naturally. Corey had never been out on a "date". He had never considered asking a girl for a date, thinking no girl would care for him, that no girl would want such a wimp for a boy friend. He felt so shy and inadequate. And, of course, he had never been out on a "date", with a boy, other than the meetings he had at the mall with Dennis. Now Michael had asked him out, and he had made it clear that he was asking Corey to be his date as his girl friend. For Michael, too, it was a first date, and he wanted so badly to make a good impression on his girl friend, Corey. Knowing of Corey's new found interest in ballet, Michael suggested going to the Ballet performance by the local company, a truly top-rated company among community groups. The company was doing the old favorite, "Swan Lake," and since the school group was to do a scene from the ballet at its spring performance, Michael thought Corey might enjoy it. "What a perfect idea," Corey said after Michael proposed it. "Oh but, what will I wear?" "I'm sure you'll look beautiful in anything you put on," Michael replied. "I'll be the envy of every man in the place." "You're just saying that. I'm still learning to be a girl." "You're truly a girl in my eyes. You're really so pretty and feminine." "Oh, Michael, I'm not so sure. I don't really have any nice dresses for such a place." It dawned on Corey that Lynn would be home Friday from college, and maybe she'd have something Corey could borrow. He wasn't sure that was such a good idea, since Corey had turned down her brother Mark's invitation for a Saturday night date. Lynn, however, had been happy to see if she could loan Corey an outfit for the night, and invited him over after school on Friday to try on a few outfits. "You're making me so envious," Lynn said to Corey. "I have trouble getting any boys to take me out, and you had to choose between Mark and Michael for Saturday night." "I'm so sorry I had to turn Mark down. He's my prom date, and I should have accepted, but Michael asked me first." "Mark understands. You're really very pretty, and a nice girl besides. We all wish you well, honey." "You're so sweet, and I love Mark for being so understanding." "Now let's see what I got for you. Lucky my clothes from high school fit you." After rummaging in Lynn's closet, they found the dress that she wore for the Homecoming Dance for the senior year. "You'll look smashing in anything, Corey, but I think a classy dress is best for you. Let's see how this looks." She held it up, a dark violet satiny dress, with spaghetti straps, to expose the shoulders and arms. The dress was belted high, just under the breasts, and hung in drapery style to just above the knees. There was sculpted lace bottom fringe and across the bodice. Lynn stayed in the room as Corey changed, their friendship having progressed to that of girl friends in which nothing was hidden. Lynn and Corey had giggled together when talking about boys and had shopped together, telling each other their secrets and thoughts. "Oh this dress is perfect," Corey said, looking in the mirror. Lynn smiled, "I think so, too." "But, isn't it a bit revealing? Too sexy for me?" "No honey," Lynn responded. "It's made for you. You have truly lovely arms and shoulders and great legs." Corey twirled a bit, flicking his long, light brown straight hair as he did so. Lynn also had a pair of 3" heels, silver colored sandals with sequins which also fit Corey, though a bit tightly. As Corey modeled the dress and the shoes, Mark entered the room, letting out a loud, "Wow!" Corey blushed. "You're going out with Michael in that?" Corey nodded a tentative, "Yes." "What's wrong?" asked his sister. "She looks like a slut, like a whore." Corey was stunned. Did he really? "She does not," responded Lynn. "I wore that for homecoming. She can wear that for the ballet when Michael is taking her." "I don't want her looking cheap." "Oh Mark," Corey said, beginning to feel tears coming to his eyes. "I'll change it, if you don't like." "No she won't. It's respectable dress. You're just jealous because she's not going on the date in that dress with you." "Well have her wear a jacket our something on her shoulders," Mark said. "She looks so attractive, I'm afraid some boys will take advantage of her." "She'll be with Michael." "Oh Mark, honey," Corey began, sobbing a bit. "I'm so sorry we're not going on this date." Mark took Corey in his arms, letting Corey sob on his shoulders, patting his lovely hair. "I know, Corey, but you're so pretty." Corey felt so good be held next to Mark's husky, muscular chest, and to be engulfed by his hard biceps. Mark was wearing a white T-shirt, and he had a soapy smell, having just gotten out of a shower after his baseball practice session. Corey felt so protected in the arms of this young man; he felt totally like a girl now in love with a sweet man. Lynn helped him dress Saturday afternoon in preparation for the date, with considerable kibitzing from his sister Ronnie and his mother. This was a first date for their new daughter, and the whole family was involved. They decided after considerable debate to let his hair flow freely, but brushed neatly so that it bobbed a bit in the back. The tied a matching ribbon across the top of his head. Corey sat patiently as they applied a glossy lavender lipstick and matching eyeliner. His eyebrows had been trimmed, and darkened. And Lynn found a light blue short top that he could wear over his shoulders, but Lynn told Corey softly, "Take this along to satisfy Mark, but I wouldn't wear it unless you get cold." Corey smiled, and Lynn added: "You have the sweetest, most soft shoulders and arms. It'd be a shame to hide them." Michael must have taken a crash course on etiquette; he arrived, dressed in a white shirt and striped tie, light gray pants and a blue blazer with gold buttons. He was so courteous and Corey thought his awkward friend had suddenly turned into a handsome young man. He held doors open for Corey, and Corey had learned the proper way to hold a young man's arm as they walked together, which was done partly to show his feminine mannerism, but, in truth, may have been done more to assure he wouldn't fall, since he was still learning to navigate on 4" heels. Michael had his father's Saturn for the date; it wasn't very exciting for a date, but it ran. "You're no different than other girls your age," Lynn had assured him. "They rarely wear heels, so when they do, they're always a bit shaky." "What a lovely young couple," they heard an older woman tell her companion, as they entered the theater for the ballet. "Isn't she a pretty girl?" "Yes," answered her male companion. "And so nice young people are coming to the ballet!" Corey was excited to watch the dancers, all professionals. He saw how lovely the young lady dancers were, their firm legs and tiny bodies. How nice it would be to be able to join the ballet as a dancer. Michael sat as tightly against Corey as the seat would allow, and reached over to hold Corey's hand. They smiled at each other. "Now watch it you two," said a voice behind them. It was Tanya, the top dancer from school, with her parents. They were seated in the next row back. There was an uncomfortable moment, as Tanya introduced her mother to Corey and Michael, explaining that Corey was in the ballet class with her. Then she added: "Corey is running for prom queen. We're so proud of her." "Oh yes," said her mother. "I remember now. How is your campaign coming, young man ... er ... lady?" "Isn't she lovely mother?" interjected Tanya, to defuse the situation. "A winner, I'd say. You're a very beautiful young lady, Corey," said her mother, giving a slight smile, as the lights dimmed for the beginning of the show. The evening was so sweet; Corey was being noticed as they stood during intermission, and Miss Simmons came by, thanking Corey for coming, pleased with his interest in the ballet. Michael's palms had been sweating when he held Corey's hands, but he was so considerate and affectionate, without being showy. Everywhere they went, to the concession stand, walking past the ticket taker, or stopping for an espresso afterward, Corey was greeted with, "Have a nice evening, miss." Or, "What can I get you miss?" His voice was still a problem, but he had learned to speak softly, and to raise his pitch by pretending he was cooing at a baby. Naturally, he was a girl of few words. He used the women's restroom at the theater, enjoying the prospect of standing in line with the other woman, lamenting the fact that they never build enough restrooms for women. It was there Corey was afraid he was 'found out.' An elegantly dressed women, tall and stately, wearing a flowing black gown, and topped with a sequin-studded jacket, had a question for Corey as he looked in the mirror, as women will do, to see if their lipstick is not smudged or their face shiny. "May I ask you something?" she asked. Corey mumbled a, "Yes," nodding his head affirmatively, but wondering what she was going to ask. "You must be a dancer, my dear?" she asked. "Yes," Corey responded slowly. "At my school." "Honey, you're lovely young lady and you have strong dancer's legs, I can see." "Thank you." "You one of the principals? And, at what school?" "Carney High. But, no, I'm just one of the girls in the corps de ballet." "Well you're lovely. So nice to see young people doing ballet. Good luck honey." Corey smiled, and left, he hoped, walking girlishly enough so as not to raise her suspicions. He was so worried his voice would give him away. The woman followed Corey out of the women's room and Michael was there waiting. "Oh, you must be the boy friend of this lovely girl," the woman said to Michael. Michael blushed, and stammered a hesitant, "Yes." "Well, you two kids enjoy the rest of the ballet." The date ended with a kiss, violating the old rule: "Never kiss on the first date." Corey and leaned his body against Michael as they stopped in front of Corey's house, and he looked up to Michael, lips poised. Michael engulfed Corey in his arms and he two kissed for several moments, Michael seeming to grow excited as the kiss lingered. Corey, too, felt his penis grow erect. "Oh Corey, you're so nice," Michael said. "You too, Michael," and he kissed again. "You know, Corey, you were the prettiest girl in the theater tonight. I was so lucky." Corey blushed. "Michael, thank you for taking me. I loved it." They kissed briefly again, and Corey said she must go in. Michael led him to the door, giving Corey a final short kiss. Inside, his mother and both sisters were up, waiting for him. "How did it go?" "Oh," Corey gushed. "It was divine." With a girlish flourish, he headed up to his room, as his sisters persisted: "Tell us, older sister ... Tell us Corey." But he continued, feeling so good in his girlhood. At third hour ballet class, Carol and Tanya informed Corey that they would meet him right after school in the cafeteria, just before the Student Council was to meet to consider Nicole's request to ban Corey from participating. "Now don't worry about this afternoon, Corey. We'll be there and handle everything," Carol said. The three of them stood together, all dressed in their practice outfits of leotards, flannel shorts and tank tops. Carol had tied her hair into two pigtails, Tanya and Corey into buns, so that the hair would not interfere with their dancing. All three had stood in the ballerina's stationary pose, with their feet at 90 degree angles. "I'm glad you wore your Capri pants and that lovely blouse today," Tanya said. "It makes you look so much like a girl." "And that should help with the Council," Carol added. "All right, girls," said Miss Simmons. "Time to get started practicing." When Corey got to the cafeteria after school, he was shocked to find some 20 other students there, gathered around Carol and Tanya. As he entered the room, they began to clap and holler, "Corey, Corey, Corey..." "What's this?" he asked. "These are your friends, and they will be there for you today," Carol said. "I told you not to worry." What was most astounding was that three of the other four candidates for prom queen were there as well. "Yes, Corey," said Pang Xiong, who was a candidate nominated by the Track Team captain, Ron Yang. "We all think you should be able to run. It's only fair." "Me too," said Lekiesha Taylor, nominated by Billy Henderson, basketball captain. She was a strikingly tall girl, with a lovely bronze complexion and a 4.0 GPA. "We don't think anyone should be excluded." "And you have shown yourself to be as pretty a girl as any of us," added Amber Armstrong, an auburn haired, pale complexioned girl who was nominated by Will Dawson, the captain of the hockey team. "Even though you might be the prettiest of the nominees, and might win, we support you." Carol whispered to Corey on the side. "They all think Nicole is too uppity, anyway. She would likely win if you hadn't entered the competition." Joining in the group were Michael and Jason, plus others from the ballet class. When the time came, they all marched into the music room where the Council met, filling the seats, surprising the nine council members and Nicole and a friend. They had outnumbered Nicole's supporters by a 10 to 1 margin. The meeting didn't last long. Nicole gave her side of the story, namely that Corey was a boy and couldn't logically run for "prom queen," that it brought shame upon the school, and that it was un-Christian. She seemed cowed by the large group supporting Corey. Carol said she was authorized to speak for Corey, and was permitted to make her points, which she did briefly. "Corey was nominated according to the rules," she said. "There is nothing in the rules about gender, and the School Board itself agreed with that, leaving it up to the Council. Corey has worked hard to be a credit to the school and to be a worthy candidate, and, if elected, to be a worthy 'Queen' of our prom." One by one, the other three prom queen candidates briefly stated their support for Corey's candidacy. The Council asked both sides to leave the room while they made their decision. Corey's supporters returned to the cafeteria, where they began to consider whether they won. "I can't see how they could rule against Corey," said Pa. "Yeah, did you see the look on Nicole's face when she saw us there?" said Lekiesha. Jason, who had become the clown of the group, screwed up his face to imitate Nicole's expression, and they all laughed. While they waited, the group talked among themselves, with Jason and Carol and Michael and Tanya joining Corey. Jason announced, putting a pudgy hand on Carol's arm, "I've asked Carol to go to the prom with me, and she accepted." Carol blushed. "Yes. Isn't he a cutie?" "And," Michael said. "I'm taking Tanya. That is, if Corey doesn't mind." Corey giggled a bit. "Oh I think that's marvelous. We'll have three couples there together." "And it's all because of you, Corey," said Tanya. "Yes, otherwise we'd never have met," Carol said. "And it seems boys never ask ballet dancers out to the prom. Aren't we lucky?" Their euphoria was interrupted when Todd, the Council president, entered the room, and announced: "You're in Corey." The group hooted loudly, "Corey, Corey, Corey." And they hugged one another, and Corey began crying. He was so happy, not because of the decision, but to see the happiness of this group, all brought together by their fondness for him and the support of the lovely girl he was becoming. From the day of the Council's decision to permit Corey to run for prom queen to the date of the competition to select a queen was only eight days. The competition was scheduled for next Thursday in the school auditorium during the last hour of classes; while only junior class members would do the voting, the session was held at an all-school assembly for all 1,100 students in the school. The competition would be among the five candidates, following a Miss America format, with each girl to be given three to five minutes to perform something that would show her artistic talent; next, they would parade down an improvised runway in a dress or outfit of their own choosing and then, finally, give a 60 second speech on how they would best serve the school in their last year. Three judges, chosen from among former prom queens, would then ask several questions of each candidate and offer some recommendations of their own. The junior class members would then cast secret ballots in the 30 minutes after the session. The winner would be announced once the ballots were counted, usually within an hour, at a brief session, filled with tears and joy. "They're all such lovely girls," Corey said to Carol as they were leaving. "How can I possibly compete?" "You may be the loveliest, you know," Carol responded. "Really," he said, beginning to exaggerate his feminine mannerisms. He so loved to hear his femininity praised; he enjoyed the fact that his arms and shoulders were so smooth, and without muscle tone. "Yes, Corey, we'll put you in a nice dress that'll show your lovely arms and legs and no one will ever imagine you're a boy underneath." "You think so?" "Yes, and all we need to do now is to get that perfect dress and to get you into a good hairdresser to fix you're lovely hair." On Saturday, Carol and Lynn went shopping with Corey for a dress for the competition. Corey wore light blue Capri pants and a cr?me-colored, layered blouse with short puffed sleeves. He wore white tennis shoes and a pink baseball cap, drawing his long hair through the back of the cap into a flowing ponytail. He wore matching necklace and bracelet of light blue beads with similar earrings. He had grown so excited that morning as he applied rose-colored lipstick and eyeliner to his face. "Aren't you the cutest girl?" he heard his mother's voice. He couldn't tell whether she was expressing pleasure, or just a bit of irony or sarcasm. But, he admitted to himself that perhaps his mother was right: he was just that, a "cute girl," and he liked the idea. "Oh, Mother," he replied, beginning to redden. His mother placed her hands on his slender shoulders, and began caressing lightly, replying, "Yes, I have gained a pretty and cute daughter, but have I really lost a talented, loving and handsome son in the process?" "Oh mom, I'm sorry if I'm hurting you. I love you so." "No, Corey, you're still the same loving child you've always been. Maybe just the packaging has changed." She put her head down and began to give him a soft kiss, but he drew away. "Mom, my lipstick. Don't smear it." They both laughed and he surrendered into his mother's arms for a long, loving hug. With Lynn and Carol, Corey shopped several stores, combing the 'junior' sections for the perfect dress. They found lots of "very nice" dresses, saying: "Oh that'll work," but always trying one more. When they told the gray-haired female clerk in a major department store that Corey was a candidate for prom queen at Carney High, she spent considerable time, trying to find the best dress. "A sweet girl like you deserves a very sweet, warm looking dress," the clerk said. "I just see the love and sweetness in your eyes, and the affection your friends have for you, dear." Corey was speechless. She was right; Corey's friends had done so much for him. Lynn said. "Yes, she is a warm, passionate loving girl. We hope she'll win." "And I need to find a dress that brings out that feeling of love that emanates from her," the clerk said, in continuing to ruffle through the racks. Finally, she produced a dress that was of a peach-colored chiffon cloth, highlighted with light blue and pink tiny flowers along the bodice, at the end of the short sleeves and along the hem at the bottom. The bodice was layered, fluffing up the breast area. The dress was mid-thigh length, and was belted at mid waist, low enough to accentuate Corey's hips. The skirt was full and flowing and wide at the bottom. Stepping out of the fitting room, Corey heard a chorus of "ohhhs" and "ahhhs" from his girl friends and the clerk. They silently examined Corey, asking him to turn left, then right and to bend over and finally to sit down. "It fits her perfectly," said Lynn. "And shows all of her best feminine qualities," echoed Carol. "Does it express the love and warmth of your girl friend here?" asked the clerk. "Oh yes," Lynn said. "I think so." Corey got up and paraded in front of the full length mirror, turning coquettishly one way and then another. He felt he looked totally feminine in the mirror, as the dress exposed his long, well formed legs, his smooth chest and his slender, soft, pretty arms. "You're sure I look feminine enough in this dress?" he asked. Carol smiled: "You're all girl." "And a very pretty one at that. We're all jealous," chimed in Lynn. They topped off the day with a giggling lunch at the mall's food court, ogling boys, who in turn were ogling them. It appeared most of the ogling was aimed at Corey, whose casual garb of that day made him look winsome and fetching and maybe even vulnerable. One tall, macho looking fellow with the body of a lifeguard (and a lovely head of full blond hair as well) stopped over to Corey, and said: "Excuse me, miss. Don't I know you?" "Not that I remember," Corey replied. "Oh, maybe not, and I'm sorry," he said. "Please forgive me, but you are very pretty." Corey blushed, and said. "Thank you." "It wasn't just a line," he said. "I swear I know you." Lynn finally interrupted: "Sorry, but we're having lunch here. Besides she's dating my brother." "Oh, OK," said the young man. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. I swear I know you, and you are pretty. Bye." When he had gone, the girls began to giggle, but Corey was wondered out loud, "Did he really know me?" "No, that was just a pickup line," Lynn said. "You better get used to it. A girl as pretty as you is going to get this a lot." "I think he was sincere," Corey said. It finally dawned on him; he met the young man when Corey, as a freshman, was on the Carney High forensics team and they competed in the city-wide tournament. The young man was a junior in a competing high school, and Corey was impressed that a boy with such a macho physique was a member of the forensics team, but the fellow proved Corey wrong. He was a sharp, intelligent debater. "I do remember him now, from forensics," he said to the others, telling them of the tournament. "I even talked with him afterward. He was nice to me, and made me feel good." "What a hunk," Carol said. "And with brains, too. You better go after him." "No, she's not," protested Carol. "She's got enough boy friends now." They all laughed. Corey felt so comfortable with Carol and Lynn, who treated him as they would any other girl friend. They even shared intimate talk about their periods, which they'd never mention with other boys. Later, they found shoes, 3" heeled, open sandals in a shade that matched the colors of the dress. The selection process turned into a bit of an adventure. A youngish slender male clerk, who chose to provide much personal attention to Corey and his search for the perfect shoe, as he announced: "Hello, my name is Jamie. I'm here to help." "I'll bet," mumbled Lynn just loud enough for Corey to hear. Lynn's own prettiness had made her the target of male advances and she could spot this young man as on just this kind of mission. As he measured Corey's feet, his slender, almost feminine fingers lingered just a bit longer than they had to on his ankle. "Size 9, it looks like," he said. "Such lovely feet and legs deserve the best." Lynn interjected quickly: "Just hurry, please. No need for small talk." Jamie, the clerk, looked up, obviously hurt by the reprimand and realizing his true intentions to see if he could "score" with Corey were snuffed out by this older girl. "Just trying to be helpful," was all he could say. Finally the purchase was made, and the three giggled their way out of the mall. Corey knew he should be happy, but something didn't seem quite right. His effort to become a girl, at least for the competition, was succeeding. As the shopping trip showed, he was treated as a girl by everyone; no one ever suspected he was anything but. Obviously, he was an attractive girl; his feminine beauty drew eyes and admiration from everyone, young and old, male and female. He was so happy to be with other girls, and to find they considered him, too, to be one of them. They could giggle, lament or even cry together. Strangely, he found himself enjoying "girl" things, the clothes, the romance novels, the boys; he found little, or no, interest in any "boy" things, like sports or cars or being a soldier. Yet, this campaign to become prom queen had made him begin to think that he really was a female, a girl. Was he ready to throw away all his maleness and become a woman? He pondered that on Sunday night as he and Mark sat in Mark's mother's car at Lookout Point, a park that had a parking spot overlooking the city. It was a popular, though heavily policed, location for lovers, and Corey, wearing denim shorts and a girl's tee shirt, had nestled next to Mark. They were holding hands, and Mark was gently running his finger up and down Corey's slim forearms. "Mark," he said softly. "Do you think... ah... of me as a... ah... girl now?" Mark didn't answer immediately. He reached over and kissed Corey lightly on the lips, moving his right arm to embrace Corey's shoulders. He was gentle, and, Corey felt, so affectionate. Corey felt so good to be held my Mark, to feel his hard male body next to his. So far, the two had only kissed and cuddled; while both were squirming as their penises grew hard, they had been shy about moving any further with sexual advances. Corey, however, adjusted his body, raising his legs a bit closer to Mark and nestling even tighter in his arms. "Mark," Corey persisted. "Honey, tell me. Am I a girl to you?" Mark kissed Corey again, more of a soft peck than an emotional kiss. "Oh Corey, honey. I don't know." Corey looked up at Mark, who had a confused look on his face. "This is all so weird, Corey," he began. "It all began because of Nicole. I just thought it would be fun. But look what I've gotten you into!" "Oh Mark, I know. But, I think I'm glad you did. But I'm so confused." "Sitting here now with you," Mark replied. "I was beginning to feel you were my girl friend. A real girl, yes." "Oh, Mark, I feel I am your girl and your friend. I feel so good in your arms." They kissed now, their lips pressing hard now. Corey melted more into Mark's arms, feeling so comfortable, and, he mused, so much a girl. Mark interrupted the kissing, and said: "Does this mean we're gay? I don't feel I am. I feel I'm kissing a girl now, not a guy." "And I feel I am a girl in the arms of a boy. I don't think we're gay, but maybe we are." "I don't care, Corey. It makes no difference. We feel good together." "Well, let's not worry about this question now. I've got to be a girl at least until prom night. After that, who knows?" Suddenly there was a light shined upon the two of them and a rap on the window. "What are you two doing there?" came a loud masculine voice. It was Office Pete, who has been known to patrol the area. It closes at 10 p.m., and usually he merely makes sure there's no untoward sexual exploits going on, and warns the occupants to keep their heads above the seats. "You better move on," Officer Pete said. "It's nearly closing time." Mark and Corey broke their embrace and took the officers' advice and left. In eight days, the election for prom queen would be held and Corey would know if he won! In the meantime, he had to concentrate on being as girly as he could. He smiled to himself: It wouldn't be hard. Just about everyone was already considering him to be a girl. (To be continued)