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Preface- This short story is a work of fan fiction, inspired by work that is not my own. This piece takes place directly where "Confrontations," my previous story, left off. If you haven't read "The Secret Stash" by Shy, "The New Girl" by Sissy Maid Sapphire, and "Confrontations" by Maria Kenton (moi), then I suggest you do so. Otherwise, none of this will make much sense on its own. Continuity edit from previous story: When James gets some time alone to play video games, strike the word "minutes" and replace with "hours." I was too lazy to resubmit the original file since it's only a minor error which does not affect anything long term. Anyway, enough chat. Please enjoy. Best, -MK The following morning I awoke to the sound of my sister performing some kind of ritual. I pretended to still be asleep; I didn't want to disturb a witch at work. She was kneeling on the floor in front of her altar, which was now being held together temporarily with duct tape. Repaired for the short-term, I noticed Chelsea's altar had a new sheet of fabric draped over it, much more elaborate than the last, with a hand embroidered sigil as opposed to a silk screened image. I had the feeling that if Mother touched that one, Chelsea would take one of the lit candles and illuminate a place where light didn't shine. When my sister was finished, she rose from her knees, stretching her legs as if she had been sitting for a long time. As she began her morning back popping ritual, which I could normally hear from my own room, she reached down and gently shook my shoulder. "I know you're up, bro. Come on, time to get ready to go to school." I looked at my sister's alarm clock. It was never set to go off because she had a bizarre way of waking up exactly when she wanted to. I guess Chelsea's connection to her Mother Earth Goddess also meant she was synchronized with the planet's rotation. Cranky, I rolled away from my early wake up call. "Come on sis, it's only 6:00." I buried my head in her pillows, trying to block her out. Chelsea started to tickle me. She'd been giving me 'tickle tortures' since we were about five and she knew I couldn't take too much. I jumped up in shock. "Stop it! No...Please don't Chelsea. Alright already!" My feet were on the floor and I was sitting upright now. She sat next to me and poked my shoulder. "You're going to make breakfast while I get first shower. Don't worry; I won't drain all the hot water. Then after we eat, you get cleaned up. After you're done, I'll be in your room." "Breakfast?" I was still a little groggy. "Yes, you know. That meal you eat in the morning. Make mine Lucky Charms. You have what you want. Remember, use milk, not O.J." She clapped her palm on my back, helping me on my way. When I entered the kitchen, I recalled that less than twenty-four hours ago this place seemed like a torture chamber. I pushed memories of yesterday's dreaded happenings aside as I retrieved two bowls from the cupboard. As I poured my sister's cereal, I thought it was kind of amusing that my sister's favorite was Lucky Charms. "You're up early." It was Mother. She had sneaked up from behind and gave me a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek. I never really thought about it, but that was something she did for me every day. But this morning it felt a little forced, almost like an unrehearsed routine. "Good morning, Mother," I curtly replied. After last night, I wasn't sure how I should carry myself in front of her. She pivoted me around gently by my shoulders and made direct eye contact. "Honey, I know what you're thinking about. I know things happened last night. But God willing it was for the best. Now can I make you something to eat?" Although it was phrased as a question, my mother's request was anything but. Already she had brushed me aside and gathered together some eggs, bread, sugar, cinnamon, vanilla, etc. Everything she needed to make my all time favorite. I poured a glass of milk for myself as Mom started to go to work. Watching my mother cook was almost magic in and of itself. I hardly ever got to watch any actual cooking going on in here, especially around holidays when all of our extended family divided itself into two camps. The women were usually headquartered in the kitchen while the men were in the garage or outside. "Just leave that out," referring to the carton of soy milk (I was lactose intolerant, which worked out great for Chelsea). "And don't forget to wash your hands, young man." Well, since breakfast was taken care of, I headed to the lavatory to clean up. Sitting my glass on the counter, I lathered up my hands. My thoughts were consumed with paranoia about school for the next two weeks. I thought about all the different people who could make my life hell today. The jocks of course...they pretty much didn't like anybody who wasn't into sports. They mingled with the preppy crowd, ruthless and unforgiving in their ridicule of others. Even my own pals who I hung out with would turn on me. None of us were the most popular kids around by any means, but we certainly weren't on the bottom of the food chain either. But if Astrid were discovered, then that's where I would definitely end up. Chelsea could still publicly embarrass me if I did the wrong thing. I grabbed a hand towel and took it with me, drying my hands off as I returned to the table. Within a couple minutes, there were two helpings of French toast sitting neatly on plates and two glasses of juice. The aroma of microwave bacon was floating in the air too. I seated myself at the breakfast nook. Mmm...time to dig in. I scraped some "butter" (vegetable oil spread, really) from the boat shaped serving dish and poured on the syrup. This was going to hit the spot. Mother made her way to the kitchen and took the chair next to mine, taking a place before the other plate of French toast. Chelsea's footsteps could be heard from upstairs. She entered the kitchen wearing her ratty looking black bathrobe. Sewn in various places were patches of moons and stars. The tie string didn't match the original robe; Chelsea had lost it and used the one from her previous robe, a purple colored one. The three of us were alone; Dad had already gone to work earlier in the morning. I was afraid another situation was going to erupt; I could almost smell it. If Mom fought with Chelsea without Dad to keep things under control, there was no telling what could happen. I was about to shove a drippy piece of delicious, syrup covered French toast in my mouth, when my sister slammed the refrigerator door shut. Hell, I wasn't expecting Mortal Kombat to begin this early in the morning. "Is something wrong, dear?" Mom asked Chelsea, who was standing in front of a single dry bowl of marshmallows and puffed wheat. I had stopped in mid-bite. I felt shame that very moment. Chelsea briefly made eye contact with me, her gaze boring like a drill into my eyes. I put my fork down. Sis carried her bowl and a spoon to the breakfast table, sitting opposite Mother, placing me in the middle, the place I always wound up. Chelsea picked a green clover out and placed it in her mouth. "Where's the milk?" Mother looked perplexed. "That's strange. I could have sworn there was another container in there. I'm sorry, I must have used it all to make us breakfast. I would have made you some, but we both know you don't eat eggs, do you dear?" Chelsea plucked a pink heart from the cereal bowl and dropped it back in. "No, Mother, as you've known for almost my entire life, I don't eat eggs." The microwave beeped, signaling the end of its cooking cycle. Mom got up for a moment, then came back to the table with a fresh plate of bacon. Something my sister refused to eat as well. I couldn't bring myself to take a slice, let alone start eating my French toast in front of my sister. She looked so pathetic from my point of view, sitting in front of all this food she couldn't eat. I was beginning to see a pattern here. Without excusing myself I quickly rose from my place at the table and left the kitchen. "God damn it," I muttered to myself. "James Christopher Matthews! I heard that! Don't you take the name of the Lord in vain!" Mother's religious furor died off; I wasn't there to hear it. Seconds later, I reentered the kitchen, clutching a glass of milk. I had forgotten I had taken it with me to the lavatory while I was washing my hands. "Here, sis." I carefully slid the cold glass across the breakfast table. "I didn't drink any. You can take it." A Mona Lisa grin was barely perceptible on my sister's face as she wet her cereal. Similarly, Mother's expression had changed from smug to dubious. I could almost see her cringe as Chelsea sank her spoon into her bowl of Lucky Charms and take a loud, crunching bite. While still chewing, my sister talked to me with her mouth full, a pet peeve button of Mom's that my sister flagrantly pushed. "Thank you, James." Defeated, Mother turned a heated stare back at me. Noticing I had not yet eaten, she asked, "Aren't you going to eat, son?" Again, I excused myself without permission. "Actually I have to shower. Thanks for making breakfast, Mother." With all haste, I left Mom and my sister in the kitchen. I wasn't about to stick around for the fallout. After fleeing to the safety of the bathroom, I showered and combed my hair. Satisfied at my appearance, I balled up my PJ's and walked back to my room, where Chelsea was waiting for me. She had gotten dressed while I was showering, wearing her 'Goth schoolgirl' outfit; a white cotton shirt, tied off at the bottom, a plaid pleated skirt, black fishnets and her knee high combat boots. She closed the door for me as she spoke. "Little brother, you came this close to seriously screwing up," making a pinching motion with her thumb and finer. "It wasn't my fault Mom used up all the milk." Wrapped only in a towel in front of my sister, I felt the need to get dressed. "Look, I need to change." Chelsea seemed more than a little irritated. "Just hold on. You and I were supposed to have cereal together. I don't remember inviting Mother to the party." "But she started making everything. I didn't ask her to make me French toast and bacon." My sister crossed her arms. "No, but you could have asked her NOT to make you breakfast. You should have just made your own." I gave it some thought. After a few seconds of quiet contemplation, I spoke to Chelsea again. "You're right, sis. This was supposed to be our breakfast and I let Mom ruin it." I turned my head, unable to meet my sister's eyes. Chelsea clapped an open palm on my shoulder. She told me with a tone of encouragement, "Don't feel bad. You might not have stood up to mom, but you sure pulled one on her back there. That's why you're not going to school in a dress today. And I would have paid money to see that expression on her face when you gave me that glass of milk!" I nodded my head, my pangs of guilt subsiding. Changing the topic back to more pressing matters, I asked, "Can I get dressed now?" "Of course, that's why I'm here; to make sure you look your best today." With that, she pointed to the bundle of clothes on the bed. "You want to look nice for Kitty, don't you?" I looked at the small, neatly folded pile. I recognized a pair of her black jeans which rode really low on her hips and flared out at the ankles. Also, waiting for me was a black T-shirt with red trim and a silk shirt which had one of those Japanese anime characters incorporated into the design. Lastly, there was a pair of red thong panties. No way was I wearing those to school! "Chelsea, I can't dress like that!" My sister raised a single eyebrow. "It's either that or the dress. You still have a sentence to serve for trying to get a five finger withdrawal from my bank." She changed from stern to playful when she unfolded the T-shirt. It was made for a girl; I could tell the by the way it was cut. A closer look at the red trim showed it to be a thin band of lacy elastic. The logo on the shirt was something everyone was familiar with, as well as the name. "Hello Kitty." "Don't worry...when you wear my bowler it won't show what's underneath. Outside you'll still look normal...sort of." With a wave of her hand, the lacy red panties floated toward me. Worried that Mom might barge in my room, I snatched them out of the air and quickly put them on under my towel. Like the black pair Chelsea gave me yesterday, they prevented any bulges from showing. I put the T-shirt on. If the trim wasn't so girly and there wasn't Hello Kitty on it, it might have actually looked good on me...if I had more muscular arms instead of the twigs sticking out of my upper torso. My sister's shirt was cut so that my midriff was exposed. Chelsea noticed my exposed skin and couldn't resist poking my belly button. "You should get pierced." Doubling over I had made a sound not unlike the Pillsbury Dough Boy. When I recovered, I voiced my dissent to that idea. "No, way! Doesn't that shit hurt?" "No," she replied simply. "Okay, Jamie," she used my new boy nickname, "Let's see what those jeans look like." They were tighter than any pair of jeans I had ever put on. I could also feel that they were cut differently, especially around the hips and ass, like they were designed to support, separate and push out your behind. Chelsea scolded me as she helped me into them. "You're gonna have tone up those cute legs, little brother." Looking in my own mirror, my heartbeat began to quicken in panic. From behind I had a small but distinct girl's "bubble butt." The panties settled higher on my hips than the jeans, red straps clearly visible on my exposed flesh. Both ribbons of lace on my sides formed into a small triangle in the back. Hurriedly I put on the bowler. Damn, I wish it was longer; it hung low enough to cover the panty straps if I stood perfectly straight. If I bent over too far, people would discover I was wearing a girly red thong. "Nice. Real nice. Slick." Chelsea was impressed with her own work. "Now all you need are shoes." She handed me a pair of her ankle high boots. "You can borrow these, but try not to scuff them, please?" Once completely dressed I grabbed my backpack and dangled it over my left shoulder, trying to hide my girlish butt. As Chelsea led me out, feelings of apprehension were flooding my mind. I didn't have a gym class this semester, thank God, but if I wasn't careful, everyone at school would know I was wearing Hello Kitty and my sister's panties. "I have to catch the bus." My house was first on the route. If I could take the panties off on the bus, it wouldn't be so bad. The Hello Kitty could still be unseen with the bowling shirt if I kept it buttoned. "Nonsense." Chelsea froze me in my tracks with a single word. "You're riding with me and my friends to school today. First we stop at Plan B, then we'll all roll up together. Don't worry yourself." Oh no! What was she trying to do to me? The Bitch Witches all rode together in a convoy after grabbing coffee in the morning. I was going to be seen with all of them. This was not going to be good. Chelsea led me down the stairs and to the front door with me in tow. Where mother was waiting for us. Correction; I meant for me. Mom handed me a five dollar bill. "This is for lunch. I hope you have a good day at school, Jamie. Let's have a talk when you get home. I love you, honey." My face turned two shades of pale. Had Mom been listening to my phone call? She didn't even acknowledge Chelsea. My sister's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "WE love you too, Mother." Sis pulled me outside, leading me out the front door and down to the sidewalk in front of our house. I heard the door slam behind us on the way out. "You're going to sweep Kitty off her feet when she sees you. Put that five to good use and get her a mocha latte'." "Actually, I was thinking that I should give it to you. I really messed your life up and now Mom and Dad took all your money!" Chelsea hugged me tightly and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Jamie... That is the sweetest, most wonderful thing you've ever said in your entire life! I swear being Astrid for one night has gotten you to be an absolutely wonderful person. Don't you worry about my money. Do you really think I'd be stupid enough to leave all my cash in one place?" Chelsea didn't have to ask that question. I said nothing as she continued on. "I'm set back quite a lot, but understand one thing; I've been planning on moving out for quite a while now, and I won't let a minor setback like last night stop me! It's only money, Jamie." I took a moment to let that sink in, and nodded with understanding. "If there's anything I can do to help you, Chelsea, just let me know." As we stood silently on the sidewalk, my nervous feelings about going to school dressed in my sister's clothes were coming back. Buying coffee for some girl I didn't know was the least of my worries. Sure, it would be one thing to be seen running around with the Bitch Witches. All of that would change once I was away from them, alone and defenseless. "Are you listening to me?" Chelsea was waving her hand in front of my face, like she was checking to see if I was conscious. I leaned back, feeling her palm brush against my nose. "I know! Buy Kitty some coffee." "So how was the chat? Did you end up asking her out?" Chelsea noticed I was avoiding her eyes now. "You horndog," she ragged me while doing a fair impression of my buddies, Jeremy and Curtis. "It wasn't like that. It just..." Now I was waffling. I was saved when I saw a car in the distance rapidly approaching. "Never mind. Here comes your friend, Raven." Actually it was Chelsea's closest companion in her circle and her boyfriend, known to everyone as Razor. He was really into the whole black makeup and reading poetry stuff, not to mention sharp things, hence his name. I had recognized the beat up looking Ford Crown Vic, which used to be a police car. It was missing the exterior lights on top, but the interior cage and driver side searchlight was still intact. The former black and white looked like someone took a grinder to it and then dipped it in flat black paint. At the end of the radio antenna was one of those novelty cappers; a hand flipping the bird. The rear end had a "Darwin" ornament and was covered in assorted bumper stickers including: "FUCK SOCCER MOMS" "Heaven kicked me out and Hell was afraid I'd take over." "On Judgment Day, you'll wish your car had a JESUS STICKER." When the Razor Mobile stopped, Raven delicately stepped out of the car, careful not to snag her ankle length velvet skirt. "Morning, C." They hugged each other like they had many times before. Chelsea's friend turned to me with a fiery stare. Seeing me as Astrid was one thing, but now I felt like I was an ant underneath a magnifying glass, and Raven was the one holding it. Fully taking in my new look, she ogled me from head to toe. "I don't believe this. You know, when you told everyone that I was 'riding the cotton pony' in debate class last semester, I had considered dressing you myself." Was that supposed to be a compliment? I shrugged her words off. Foremost on my mind were Chelsea's instructions; if my past hijinks were brought up I was "jealous" and "confused." "Cotton Pony? Did I really say that?" "Yes," she frowned. "Listen, Raven," I greeted her feeling very small. "I never meant anything by that...I was confused about myself. And jealous too." I hastily added. My sister's friend gave me a quizzical stare. "Jealous that I was 'Flying the Flag?" Chelsea gave me a really hard stare. Through her expression, she was telling me I had better think of something fast. "No, not like that. I was acting stupid because I was all bottled up inside about," I bit my lip. "Not being able to, well...be my real self." "No hard feelings, Jamie." Raven shook my hand, clasping both of her hands around mine. I love the outfit. But you need a little more tweaking. We'll take care of that while we head over to Plan B." Razor tapped his horn lightly, sounding off a friendly beep. "Come on, I need some coffee baby." With that we all piled into Razor's car, my sister riding shotgun and Raven in the back with me. Chelsea made the introductions. "Razor, this is my brother James, but he likes to be called Jamie." She hastily added, "Or Astrid when he's dolled up like a girl!" The spiky haired Goth guy reached over his shoulder and put two of his fingers through the cage, trying to improvise a handshake. "Nice to meet you James, Astrid, and all the rest of you!" Raven then did something bizarre. She climbed over me and sat in my lap, straddling me in the backseat. "Hold still, Jamie. You need some makeup." I wanted to object, but I knew the consequences would be even worse. Without sounding insubordinate, I replied, "Makeup?" My sister was still facing the back from her position in the passenger seat. "Yeah. You didn't think we'd let you get all dressed up and not let you wear your favorite lipstick." She handed a small cylindrical tube to Raven. "Try and hold still now. We're in a moving vehicle as it is." She put a light coat of ivory power on my face from her compact, lightening my already naturally fair skin tone. Chelsea's best friend leaned in closer to me and applied the red-tinted jet black gloss to my lips. She even managed to use a charcoal pencil around my eyes. Judging by her surgical quality hands, which seemed to compensate for every turn and bump in the road, makeup was an art Raven had honed down to a science. Next my sister produced a can of mousse from her large handbag and squeezed a ball of foam into her friend's hand through the steel bars separating them. She rubbed the poofy cream liberally into my scalp, then teased and prodded my hair until my sister nodded her approval. "Razor," my stylist called to her boyfriend. "Give me your wristbands." While driving, Razor used his mouth to pull them off, popping the rings of spiked leather free. Chelsea handed them to Raven through the gaps in the cage and then snapped the bands on my wrists. Lastly Razor's girlfriend took off her velvet choker, fastening the soft strip of fabric around my neck. It tickled what little Adam's apple I had; wearing this all day was going to be hellish. The two girls in charge of my fate were giddy with glee, and they sang out in unison, "Perfect!" We finally arrived at what Chelsea referred to as Plan B. It was one of the local coffee bars located next door to another one of my sister's favorite hangouts, Cathartic Dreams. The two stores were connected on the inside, and the customers could go back and forth reading books about New Age and Witchcraft while slurping down some of the best tasting coffee around, at least according to Chelsea. I caught my reflection in the large glass exterior window, which was painted black on the other side to shield the patrons from the light, so it might as well have been a mirror. I couldn't believe how androgynous I looked. My body from the waist down was all female, right down to my curved backside, which would have been attractive on any girl. Lipstick and eyeliner feminized my male features, but unlike the makeover I had gotten from Chelsea's wig, Raven's face work didn't hide my true gender; I was still very recognizable as James, even with my new hairdo and sister's clothes. Razor held the door for us as we entered the caf?; a better word would be 'joint.' A variety of aromas hit my senses; a blend of stale cigarettes, fresh cappuccino, aerosol potpourri, beef ramen noodles, microwave popcorn, and various baked goodies from the small oven in the corner. Other cliques, such as skaters, straight-edgers, and hoods, came and went, but for the most part Plan B Coffeehouse was frequented by the Bitch Witches this early in the morning. This was their home away from home. Trying to not to look like a complete newb, I searched the room for Kitty Pat. She wasn't here but a few of the other girls from Chelsea's coven were standing by the bar, engaged in idle-chit chat, stirring cups of coffee and smoking cigarettes. I tried to remember their names from Saturday night but drew a complete blank; I was too nervous about my state of dress. Chelsea and Raven told me to stay put. While the two of them greeted their girlfriends, I looked to Razor for protection, feeling like a complete fairy after seeing my own reflection outside. "Come on, there's a couple guys I want you to meet." I followed his lead, making our way through the randomly placed tables, plastic covered chairs and other furnishings. Two guys turned from their conversation to welcome Razor. One of them wore a plain black t-shirt, the other wore a tank top that was equally devoid of any silk screening or design. Both wore black cargo pants, and black leather boots. "T-shirt" had long red hair pulled back in a braid, adorned with some kind of metal ornament near the end. It reminded me of a strange weapon I once saw in a kung-fu movie. "Tank top" was shaved completely bald and wore a pair of wraparound goggles, which made him resemble a very famous actor. The likeness was uncanny. It seemed like all of Chelsea's friends had a thing for hugging, but the guys embraced in a masculine way, accompanied by slaps on the back and greeting one other with firm handshakes. "Max, Diesel, this is James. Or Jamie. He looks like a 'Jamie' right now, I think, but why don't you just introduce yourselves." Razor gave them some room to make my acquaintance. I put my free hand out to say hi to them. "Hello." I went along with Razor's lead. "I'm Jamie." My God, these guys had some kind of grip. Both of them had two heads and at least a hundred pounds on me. Max grimaced when he shook my hand, noticing the expression of discomfort on my face, which was only accented by my makeup. "Whoa, sorry about that." Diesel craned his neck, looking me over through those dark glasses of his. "I like the Vampire Hunter D shirt." I wondered how he could even see. "Thanks," I smiled. We made some idle chit chat, briefly getting to know each other. Max gave me a closer look at his braid ornament, which resembled one of those bizarre vampire looking rings with the spike on the end that covers your whole finger. And Diesel told me the real origin of his nickname; he told me he was into cars way before he learned his ABC's. "How about you, Jamie? Tell these guys more about yourself," Razor pressed me on. I knew what he wanted me to say. I fingered the velvet choker around my neck, a little nervous about telling two guys I didn't even know too much about me. They were still strangers to me, despite the assurances I had gotten earlier. On the other hand, I knew they would find out about Astrid eventually. Might as well get it over with, I decided. "Well...I...I like to dress up like a girl. But I still like girls. I'm not gay or anything." Diesel gave me a friendly pat on the back. "Jamie, nobody said you were. Even if you're into guys, that's fine." I was beginning to relax a little. The crowd my sister ran with wasn't all that bad so far. I was even beginning to feel like I was really starting to fit in. "Dude," Razor tapped my shoulder with his fist in a friendly nudge. "Eric is going to eat you up." "Eric?" Who was this Eric guy? Did I know him? What did Razor mean by eat me up? My escort nodded for me to follow him, approaching the end of the bar. "Yeah, don't worry, he's another friend of ours." We made our way over to a guy wearing a beret with some kind of military emblem; a bat inside a set of crosshairs. He wore all black like everyone else; combat boots, black army fatigues, fingerless leather gloves, a spiked black leather jacket, and a black t-shirt with some kind of band called "KMFDM." He even smoked some kind of black cigarette with a catchy aroma and was reading a book with a black cover. What was it with Goths and Black? "Hey, Vaughn," Razor called to his buddy. "I've got someone you should meet. This is Jamie." "Hi, there," I said, trying to sound cheerful. Eric seemed totally disinterested. I put my hand out to shake, but he was still staring at his book. It had some kind strange symbol that looked like the "Bio-Hazard" sign and a one word title- Hagakure. Weird shit I never heard of. This guy was seriously creeping me out. Razor was trying his best to rouse his friend's attention. "Dude, what's the deal, you high or something? Or are you trying to be rude?" Eric closed his book and adjusted his beret. He took a long drag from his clove cigarette and blew a stream of smoke squarely in my face. Everyone knew the answer to Razor's question. "I know who you are, James. Hard to forget the little cockbite that makes our lives less enjoyable on a regular basis." I was at a loss. Who was this kid? He could sense my confusion. In mockery of me, Eric extended a hand of his own toward me as he stubbed out his smoke. What he said next sent a chill down my spine. "Trenchcoat." Eric's voice had become a barely contained guttural snarl, as if he was demonically possessed. My mind took me back to a long forgotten incident. Jeremy, Curtis and I used to rag this kid something hard. We called him "Trenchcoat" and "Matrix" because he used to wear this long ass black leather raincoat. Jeremy and Curtis had also told me he was a card carrying member of the so-called "Trenchcoat Mafia," if there ever was such a thing. The three of us were screwing around in art class once and we had 'made over' Eric's jacket so to speak. He got to his feet, looking me eye to eye since we were the same height. Eric was no longer looking at me, but through me. I had never seen a stare that was so...invasive. "Why the sudden change? Last week I saw you having fun with 'Special K.'" Her name was Kathleen; another friend of Chelsea's whom my buddies nicknamed "Special K." She went to that L.D. classroom down the hall from my homeroom. I put my hand down; it was very clear he didn't want to get to know me. "Look, Eric, I'm sorry..." Eric got in my face, ready to tear my head off. "Don't apologize to me, fuck stick! Let me tell you something. That girl was in an accident two years ago and took serious head trauma! It's not her fault she can't concentrate, or doesn't function on the same learning curve as we do! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Razor stepped in between us, firmly pushing Eric away. "Ease down, Lucifer. Jamie's not starting anything here." Leaning toward Eric's head, he whispered something in his ear. I could only imagine the exchange taking place. The beret clad upperclassman then did something I didn't expect. He took off his gloves and reached out to me. Nervously I took his hand. I was afraid of him, and I did it rather daintily, like how a girl would shake. He touched my hand warmly; none of the fury I had seen in him just a few moments ago was there. If anything, it was almost as if Razor had cast a spell on Eric, to keep his friend from putting his boot up my ass. "Astrid?" he leaned closer and closer to me as he whispered softly. "That name is so...very...beautiful." I looked over to Razor, who wore a grin from ear to ear. He DID cast some kind of magic, affecting his friend dramatically. I just knew it. "Uh, thanks." I pulled my hand away quickly, hoping no one in the room had seen our brief exchange. Razor said to Eric, "I guess you guys are cool now?" "More than..." he trailed off as he backed away from my personal space. "Obviously Jamie has changed for the better. Much better." With a sly grin and a tilt of his beret, Eric excused himself from the bar, mingling into the growing crowd. In a blink I lost sight of him. When I felt he was out of earshot, I asked Razor, "What did you do to him? One moment he's ready to kill me, next he's ready to..." "Kiss you?" My new friend suggested, cutting me off in mid-sentence. "As if..." I shook my head. "Is he gay or something?" Razor shook his head. "Why don't you ask him?" I didn't gave the subject any more thought as Chelsea, Raven and the three girls I met at the dance emerged from the restroom. They sauntered across the caf? to our spot at the coffee bar. Chelsea waved her arm like a hostess on a game show, displaying the grand prize. "Ladies, you remember our 'New Girl.'" All of us got reacquainted. The names that had escaped me earlier were Faye, Abby and Jen. Even though I was first introduced to Chelsea's circle as James, my regular boy name, over the weekend, it didn't take long for my other name, "Jamie," to catch on. The other guys came back over to the bar now, sans Eric who was still nowhere to be seen. Various people came in and out of Plan B. A few more patrons decided to stay. I edged my way closer to the center of the group; more people around would take attention away from me. I hovered near the girls, feeling much safer near Chelsea and Raven. After what happened between Eric and me, I had to ask the girls, including my sister, "Why are you all being so nice to me? You know, that Eric guy had a point." Raven, who was wrapped around Razor, was the first to speak up. "Jamie, all of us - I mean the majority of us-" She shot a dirty look at her boyfriend. "We decided to forgive you for your past transgressions. Chelsea has told us how you're trying to be a better person." Razor cautioned me afterward. "As Eric had put it, you 'obviously changed for the better.' We discussed all of this with Chelsea last night and we decided we're going to give you a trial run, so for your sake don't upset any of us." His girlfriend chided him sharply. "You need to have a one on one chat with Eric. I heard him rip Jamie a new one all the way in the girl's room back there." Chelsea took my arm, pulling me to her side, away from Razor and Raven. She stood by my side, with a tone of dismissal, ending the topic at hand. "Jamie knows not to disappoint me. Or anyone else." As everyone silently broke off, my sister gave me another pep talk. "Hey, you're here to meet Kitty, remember? You need to relax." "Right." I cleared my head and took a deep breath. As if on cue, Kitty Pat entered the coffee shop accompanied by Kathleen and the last girl to round out the circle, her best friend Lisa. Lysa with a 'Y' I corrected myself mentally. I casually slipped behind Max and Diesel for cover. Razor clamped his arm around my shoulder, freezing me in my tracks. "Oh, no you don't. Where do you think you're going?" The girls missed our brief exchange as they all greeted one another as well as the guys, who promptly stepped aside, allowing Kitty and the other new arrivals a better view of my morning makeover. Lysa was the first to speak up. "You skinny little bitch, I'm jealous. Your ass is cuter than mine." This made everyone giggle. I could feel the eyes of a few patrons look our way, curious about all the commotion and the gaggle of Goths at end the coffee bar. Kathleen strolled up next to Lysa. I couldn't bring myself to look at her eyes and I began to fidget a little. Eric's tongue lashing was still fresh in my mind. "Hi Astr...er, James." She caught herself from blurting my girl name out loud. Lysa repeated something I had heard earlier this morning to her friend Kathleen. "She looks more like a Jamie right now, doesn't she?" I blushed, being referred to with a feminine pronoun. The two girls both made gestures of friendship; Lysa squeezed my hand with a polite girl's handshake and Kathleen embraced me in a brief, gentle hug. Both of them surprised me, considering how mean I had been to the girls before. "Lysa...Kathleen. Listen, about last week, I didn't mean to, well, you know..." I stopped talking because I felt too guilty to repeat my crimes against them. Kathleen was the first to speak up. "It's alright. I'm used to it. But we're friends now, right?" I was floored by her kindheartedness; It took me a moment to answer. "Right," I nodded. "Of course." No sooner than we had finished making our acquaintance, Kathleen took off to the other end of the counter with Lysa, who chased right behind, presumably to get some coffee. As we drifted apart, I could see Kitty Pat, Raven, and my sister, Chelsea, whispering to each other. The guys did likewise. Razor peeled away from the group with Max and Diesel. "Hey, uh...we're gonna go catch up with Eric. We'll be outside." The first trio of girls I was introduced to also drifted off into Cathartic Dreams. Our numbers were dwindling fast and I had a feeling I was being set up yet again by Chelsea. Raven pulled my sister over to the counter where Lysa and Kathleen were ordering their morning caffeine fix. Chelsea breezed by me while looking me sternly in the eyes. "Caramel mocha latte'," she whispered at me, making sure Kitty couldn't hear. And just like that, I was all alone with her. Kitty was decked out in all black like the rest of the Bitch Witches, which came as absolutely no surprise. Not that I was complaining. On the contrary, Goth styling or not, she was dressed to impress, from the knee high boots she sported to a black leather mini and black lace stockings. On top Kitty Pat wore a black silk blouse, unbuttoned two or three snaps down, which showed a lacy black bra. All of which accented her generous cleavage, long legs, and overall great figure. I felt my throat go dry when Kitty Pat flashed a smile, then stepped much closer, coming well within my comfort zone. "Hi, Jamie." She put her arms out, like she wanted me to take her hands. Instinctively I did so, not knowing what else to do in front of my sister and all these strangers in Plan B. From the corner of my eye I could see Chelsea make a hand gesture, a 'gun' with her thumb and index finger. She cocked her thumb back like it was the hammer, then 'fired' with a flick of her wrist. I could feel the top button on Chelsea's shirt undo itself, then the one beneath it, followed by the rest in sequence. My sister's Hello Kitty t-shirt was in plain view. I knew this was coming. "Oh, Goddess. Jamie." Kitty was speechless. She gripped my hands tighter as a pearly white smile spread across her face. I couldn't help but grin nervously, but at least I was smiling. "Hello, Kitty." Kitty Pat was tickled pink by my unintentional play on words. "Did you wear this for me?" If only she knew the real answer to that question. But I indulged her anyway. "I can't take all the credit; Chelsea and Raven helped me with a few things. Do you like it?" Suddenly Kitty pulled me really close to her, gripping me by my ass cheeks. I nearly yelped, but somehow I managed to control myself. I could feel her moving her hands to my hips now, slipping her fingers under my sister's shirt. Then I felt the sting of elastic as Kitty played with my panty straps. "I love it, Jamie." I had felt weirded out over the weekend about Kitty Pat, from clubbing with her to finding out very intimate things about Patricia. Even if she was one of the Bitch Witches, I would have been lying if I said I wasn't starting to feel attracted to Kitty. I started to let myself slip into my new role a little bit. I felt more relaxed as I politely asked Kitty Pat, "May I get you some coffee'?" Kitty lightly tugged the panties around my hips, drifting slowly toward the coffee bar. She bit her lower lip as she silently nodded 'yes,' then her face spread into a joyous smile. I had no choice but to follow her lead. When we got to the bar, I looked over the menu, even though I knew what to order for Kitty. I knew nothing about coffee except that Dad drank it and it tasted nasty to me. I didn't know the difference between a cappuccino and a latte, but I knew mocha was chocolate, that much I was certain. A man with dark hair and glasses with a name tag that read "Mario" greeted us. "Hi there. Do you know what you want or do you need a minute?" Kitty had shifted positions, clinging to my left arm and hovering agonizingly close. At first I thought she was speaking to Mario, but I realized it was me she was talking to. "I want nothing strong; I like my coffee to be gentle and mild. And sweet. I just love sweet coffee. And it's got to have extra cream or it's just not worth drinking." I swallowed nervously, fingering the soft velvet choker still encircling my neck. Once I got some moisture in my mouth and took a slow, deep breath, I told him. "One Caramel Mocha Latte'." "And for you?" Mario asked. I didn't want to blow all the cash I had on coffee; I had to eat later since I had missed out on cereal and French toast. "I'm fine, thanks. I don't drink coffee." Kitty said to me with a tone of encouragement, "Jamie, they have other stuff. How about a smoothie?" "No, thank you. I'm okay. Really." Mario stroked his goatee as he looked me over silently, like he was staring at a piece of art in a museum. I followed his eyes to my right arm, then to the hand in my right pocket, where I kept the meager amount of money I currently possessed. "At least allow me to give you a sample. I guarantee you'll like this new flavor I just whipped up." "Okay," I reluctantly agreed. I just knew deep down that he knew I was strapped for cash. The whirring noise of a coffee grinder muted the other sounds in the caf?, then the swishing and gurgling of steamed milk. Suddenly, I realized I didn't tell Mario I couldn't handle dairy too well. When the other side of the counter was quiet, I got Mario's attention. "Excuse me, I forgot to tell you I'm lactose intolerant. I guess I'll have a smoothie." Without breaking his brisk and steady pace, Mario said, "We can make anything here with soy milk too." He set Kitty's latte' on the counter as he went to work on...whatever the hell he was going to make me. As Mario served the second cup of coffee to me, he pressed a few keys on an old style cash register, the kind where little numbered metal flags pop up in the rectangular window, complete with the manual lever. The antique cash machine was in surprisingly good condition, a stark contrast to the rest of the furnishings and appliances in Plan B. They sure didn't make registers like these anymore. "Two ninety-five, please." The drawer popped open with a chime. I handed him three singles and Mario put the cash away, handing me back a nickel. Kitty and I grabbed our coffee. I started to make for a booth where we could be less conspicuous, but she was still at the counter. "Silly, get back here." my coffee drinking companion chided me. I was momentarily confused until I saw an empty fishbowl next to the cash register, which Plan B put to use as a tip jar. "Oh, I forgot." I nervously lied as I placed a buck in the glass bowl. Now I was down to just one dollar. And a lousy nickel. The clerk smiled warmly at us. Mario bowed slightly and pressed his palms together. "Thank you. Please, taste the coffee while it's hot." Kitty and I released our arms so we could drink. I peeled the tab off the reclosable paper cup lid and a rush of steam, both sweet and bitter, floated out, which tickled my nose in a good way. I was glad the cup I was holding had a cardboard ring, because whatever was inside seemed about ten degrees cooler than the sun. Kitty suggested to me, "Take off the lid, sweetie." Like this. She removed the whole lid from her cup and threw it away. I did the same. "Now blow." She blew me a kiss, then gently puffed a stream of cool air over her drink. I knew how to drink a hot beverage, but Kitty pampered me all the way through my first few sips of real, quality coffee. "Wow, this is good. It tastes like chocolate peppermints." I took another light swallow, careful not to burn myself to death. After I was done sampling my beverage, I did something I did not expect. It was like I was acting on instinct. This time, it was I who reached out to Patricia. "Let's sit." I suggested. Kitty Pat gripped my hand lightly. As we felt our fingers interlock, I noticed the Bitch Witches all crammed in the large corner booth. They were trying to act nonchalant, but failing miserably. My sister was staring at her shoes, something she never, ever did. Raven was pretending to read a book, but it was upside down. The other five girls were likewise acting shifty. I boldly steered Kitty and myself toward a centrally located table, careful not to spill our drinks. Like a true gentleman, I pulled out a chair for Kitty, who gracefully smoothed her leather skirt before sitting and crossing her legs. As I sat myself down opposite Kitty Pat, I whispered to her, "You know they're watching, right?" "Of course." Kitty took another sip of her coffee. "The circle always looks out for one another." I gave that some deep thought. No one I had known seemed so truly committed to each other. That all changed when Chelsea made me meet the girls as Astrid. As I sat quietly for a moment, Kitty whispered to me. "You okay, babe?" Something was biting at the back of my mind. Moments before, I was on top of the world. Before I knew it, I had slammed into a brick wall. Butterflies began to fly in my stomach. "I'm alright," I lied to Patricia. Again. Kitty Pat could sense my uneasiness. "Jamie, it's okay. Whatever it is, the circle is always behind you." I wasn't so sure about that. Chelsea and I had told Kitty and the rest of the girls another lie about my dressing as Astrid at the dance. Jesus Christ, I cursed to myself in my mind, which brought a swirling image of my mother, which changed to Dad, then to a swirling mob of people. Suddenly, I felt lightheaded. More unpleasant sensations wracked my body; hunger and nausea, accompanied by a brief but violent headache. Despite everything that had just hit me like a freight train, outwardly I appeared fine, but not for long. "I need to use the restroom. Excuse me." As I got to my feet more faces entered my mind; Jeremy and Curtis, my partners in crime. They paled in comparison to some of the real jerks and bullies at school. Cindy Johnson, the blonde goddess of my dreams. I used to stare at her cheerleading pictures behind locked doors for hours on end. I felt a stabbing cramp in my belly as I realized Cindy saw me face to face as a girl and did absolutely nothing. Sure, she couldn't have known, given the bizarre circumstances of my wearing Chelsea's magical Goth maid bondage dress. Cindy wouldn't have had any reason at all in the world to think I would have gone to the dance like that. The more I thought about it, my body manifested more symptoms and more pain. Without trying to look like I was in a rush, I continued in the direction of the men's room. As I made my way over, I could hear the sound of footsteps behind me. "Jamie, what's wrong?" It wasn't Kitty's voice I heard, it was Chelsea's. I ignored her as I pushed open the swinging door leading inside the restroom. As I staggered across the polished tile floor, I looked at my reflection in the mirrors hanging above the hand washing sinks. I wished I hadn't. From there, I didn't remember much. I felt two pairs of hands, Chelsea's and Raven's, helping me into one of the stalls. I was sick for several minutes. I just hoped and prayed it would all be over soon. As I was slowly coming back to my senses, I felt my sister pressing a cup of water into my hand. "Drink this. And rinse. Little brother, you've got the dry heaves something bad. And you missed breakfast too. Mario's going to get you something to settle your stomach..." Food was the last thing on my mind. "I want to go, Chelsea. Right now, please." Raven looked at my sister, worried. "Shouldn't he rest a few more minutes?" "He needs air, Raven. Let's help him up." She turned her attention back to me. "Jamie, can you stand?" I reached up with both hands, which were shaking. The two girls pulled me to my feet. "I'm fine. I just want to go outside." Chelsea could sense the panic in my voice and guided me out of the restroom while Raven cleared a path. Through all the background noise of Plan B Caf? and its patrons, I could hear my sister chanting quietly to herself. Without her aid, I don't think I would have made it out of Plan B coffee house. Raven opened the door for us. As my sister and I stepped outside, she finished her magical spell and talked in a language I could understand. "What happened back there? I've never seen you sick like that before." Chelsea's voice was laced with concern. "I think you were right Chelsea. I'm just really run down." Truthfully I didn't want to speak of what happened back there in front of anyone else. I had a very bad feeling deep inside and I had to speak to Chelsea alone. Doing my best to silently communicate to my sister, I looked at her, then I looked at Raven. "Raven, can you tell Mario we need that muffin and juice to go?" My sister cleverly asked her best friend. "Sure, C." Raven went back inside Plan B, leaving my sister and me free to speak with each other. I looked around the sidewalk in front of the caf? to make sure no one was around. Chelsea did the same. "What happened to you, Jamie? Why were you so scared?" My hands began to quiver again but my sister was quick to clasp them between her own and steady them. When I calmed myself, I told her, "She was crying, Chelsea." "Kitty? No she wasn't." "No, not Kitty. Astrid." Bewildered, my sister pressed me for answers. "What do you mean Astrid was crying Jamie? What are you talking about?" "In the mirror. I saw her." Chelsea was trying to make sense of the words I was speaking. It was hard enough to say them, let alone decipher their meaning. "That doesn't make sense, James. Astrid is you. It was a hallucination. You were very ill just now." "I wasn't seeing things, Chelsea! I could feel it! I know what I saw!" I almost began to cry. "I'm sorry, Jamie. I wasn't listening to you." Chelsea paused for a moment. "Tell me what you saw. I won't interrupt you." It took me a few seconds to form the words I wanted to say. I had never been so terrified, not even when Chelsea's clothes had taken on a life of their own. "Before I felt sick, I saw myself in the mirror. Except I was dressed as Astrid. And she was crying. What does this mean, sis?" Chelsea stared off, deep into thought. "I'm not sure, Jamie. We'll have to deal with this later. Are you sure you're feeling okay? We can skip school if you need to." "Really, I'm fine now." The door to the caf? opened again. "Forget it, here comes Raven." Raven rejoined our company, clutching a small paper bag, which she promptly handed to me. "Here you go, Jamie. You gonna make it?" "Yeah, after I kill this," referring to the small package I was now carrying. "Thank you, Raven." Chelsea began to dig in her purse. "Come with me." She pulled out a travel size bottle of mouthwash as she motioned us to follow her into the alleyway leading to the rear of Plan B. It seemed like she was prepared for anything. As I came around the corner, I saw my sister lifting the lid to a nearby metal garbage can. "Rinse," she ordered me. "Now?" My sister's command had taken me completely by surprise. Where would I spit? In that thing? Wasn't that unsanitary? Raven seconded Chelsea's order to use the blue tinted cool mint flavored mouthwash. "We want to be minty fresh for Kitty now." After I was done rinsing, the three of us walked around behind the caf?. Waiting for us in the parking lot were the rest of the Bitch Witches. Abby, Jen and Faye were talking with Kitty Pat, who was leaning against a black and red street racer with Eric. Parked next to the Japanese hot rod was Razor's four wheeled beast, where Lysa and Kathleen waited along with Razor, Max and Diesel. "Jamie, are you alright?" Kitty peeled herself away from Eric's side, rushing over to check on me. Chelsea and Raven rejoined each other as well. I took a deep breath, trying not to think about the horrific things I had seen and felt just moments before. "Yes, I'm fine now. I don't know what happened back there. Patricia, I'm sorry." Kitty Pat touched my face. I felt her fingers trail down the side of my cheek as she said, "We can do coffee some other time. But we can ride to school together, right?" She leaned her head closer to mine and kissed my opposite cheek, then held me tightly. "Yes," I breathed without thinking. Raven and Chelsea looked at each other with smiles and nods of approval. Kitty was electric with joy. The sound of Razor opening his car door got my attention, and the girls led me to the empty seat inside. I suddenly realized what I had agreed to. "Wait, I don't want to sit." Raven's boyfriend was a little more insistent about the matter. "You shouldn't be on your feet right now. And we've got to get rolling." This was a battle I couldn't win. I got inside Razor's car with Kitty Pat joining me in the back seat. He passed his keys over to his girlfriend, then briefly exchanged a hug and kiss with her. "I'll be right behind you. I'm driving Eric to school today." "Good boy." Raven grabbed both sides of Razor's face and gave him a long, wet kiss. "Later, Lover." "Lover-" he paused to put on a pair of dark shades. "Later." Razor marched to the driver's side of Eric's car. He thrust an open palm at his friend, gleefully carrying out Raven's earlier instructions. "Give me your keys, Vaughn." Eric, who was less than enthusiastic, did as he was told. "If you hurt my baby, I'll break your ass." "Shut up and get in the bitch seat." Raven's boyfriend definitely had Eric on a leash. The four guys crammed themselves into the red and black Eclipse. Kathleen, Lysa, Abby, Jen and Faye rode in an old Volvo station wagon. Raven started the Razor Mobile and eased the large sedan out of Plan B's parking lot. She carefully drove off, with the two other cars steadily trailing behind. Chelsea fired up Razor's car stereo and put on some music. She ejected whatever CD was in the stereo and exchanged it with one in her purse. Whatever music it was, it was similar to the music I had heard at the club on the weekend. As the two girls were chair dancing in the front, Kitty Pat slid closer to me. She opened up my paper bag and produced an apple juice box and a banana nut muffin. The muffin was still warm. "Here, drink this." Kitty was nice enough to pop the straw into the box for me. I reached out to take it from her, but she wouldn't let me have it. She playfully teased me for a second or two, before saying, "No. Relax, Doll." I did what I was told. Like Raven had done earlier, Kitty Pat straddled me in the back seat. My eyes darted downward, and between her legs I caught a glimpse of black flowery lace. I lifted my gaze upward, staring into the generous cleavage which was only inches away from me. Kitty Pat noticed where I had been staring and put a finger under my chin, raising my head upward. She locked eyes with my own, settling herself into my lap at the same time. "You're a naughty girl." She eased the juice box toward me. My lips found their way to the straw and I hungrily sucked down the apple juice. In between sips, Kitty tore off bits of the muffin and delicately fed them to me. I was already feeling my strength come back and my pangs of hunger subside. When Kitty finished feeding me, she inspected me for crumbs and checked my makeup. "I think Jamie needs just one more coat of lipstick." "More?" Hadn't they done enough to me already? "Of course, sweetie. You have such lovely, baby doll lips." She uncapped a plastic tube and twisted it, revealing the dark colored lipstick. "Hold still now." I meekly surrendered to the girl mounting me. It wasn't that I minded doing this. Hell no. But we were about to go to school and Kitty Pat or her circle wouldn't always be nearby to 'look out' for me. My sister could sense the feelings of dread welling up inside me. She cleverly worded her 'reassurance' to me after Kitty Pat finished my lips off with a glossy clear coat. I could read Chelsea's veiled warning underneath her encouraging tone. "Hey, don't look so nervous. You don't have anything to worry about as long as you don't upset anyone." Raven chimed in, sensing my hesitation. "I don't think Jamie sees it like that, C. He's really going to draw a lot of stares. Maybe we're overdoing it with the makeup. This is school, you know." "No!" I cried. The force of my response was shocking. I almost felt my voice go up an octave and I may have shouted, although I didn't mean to. Meanwhile, my sister's tone became genuinely comforting, not like before. "Astrid." For a moment, Chelsea just stared at me in amazement while slowly forming a cheerful grin. Kitty Pat nuzzled a lot closer to me, and I could feel the red thong panties I had on under my sister's jeans begin to moisten. My cock was trying to become hard, but the restriction of having my parts being tucked between my legs stopped that. Chelsea looked back to her friend, Raven. "You, see. Astrid was just a little nervous. She really does want to go through with this." Kitty Pat chimed in her support as well. "And we won't let anything happen to you." More to come... Afterword- Wow. What a wait. Sorry about the delay to those of you who waited to see what happened after "Confrontations." About the title; "Jamie" was the original working name through most of the writing and editing process. Once I had broken the block I needed to overcome (it happened about halfway in the coffee shop scene). I renamed it "Little Truths" because in this segment of the story, we the audience discover a vast number of little truths about many of the characters. It's also an Easter egg; cookie for the reference. The most difficult thing was trying to bring life to multiple characters while trying to make them somehow memorable. Sissy Maid Sapphire had established that there were a total of eight girls, including Kitty Pat, Raven and Chelsea. Astrid was the ninth to round out their circle. Then there's the Mother. I loved writing that scene. For this segment, I wanted to throw some guys into the mix, since I felt it was time to take the story in a new direction. I think James needed some guy friends, as well as the Bitch Witches. For brevity's sake I had to slice down a lot of the detail about the Bitch Witches and their boys. We'll hopefully learn more about all of them in later installments. Jamie is about to arrive at school in Chelsea's outfit she put together for him, complete with makeup. Anything can happen, and I can't wait to see the reviews, since they often double as wish lists. -MK