Danny, Part 1 free porn video

DANNY Part One by Roberta J. Cabot This is a story about Daniel, a guy with a unique talent and an even more unique problem: A great singing voice and the looks of his gorgeous sister. And about how he and his buds handle his problems with the school bully when he dresses up as a girl in the annual Halloween costume contest, how he and his family deal with his having breasts, and how he deals with getting turned on by his would-be girlfriend. And how he ends up as the female lead singer for a high-school pop band. Never a dull moment with Batch Fourteen, and Dan & his gang. Author's Note: I started writing this December 2005, soon after I discovered the soon-to-be-defunct Fictionmania site, and I decided to try my hand at writing Transgender Fiction. And it took me this long to build up the courage to actually upload it for others to enjoy (or not - your option heheh). I recently resurrected what little I had of my old story, and though I am by no means a real writer, I hope to finish the rest of the story eventually Since I thought FM was gone, I first uploaded it in Crystal's StorySite,and, though still incomplete, I was convinced to try uploading it in other sites as well (BCTS et cetera). Through the friends I made in these sites, I found out from them that FM was back. So everything's come full circle. Here's the story now. Feedback would be most appreciated, so I do hope people write me back. I am by no means a real writer so I hope you will forgive any grammatical and literary flubs that you see. Further, given that this little piece had close to five years of gestation, many of the cultural referents will be off - for example, many of the songs used in the story are not current but in the story they're treated as if they were, yet at the same time other songs are really current songs. I hope you will forgive the temporal mismatch here, and try and enjoy the story despite this. Apologies also if the quoted lyrics are wrong - I got most of them off the net, or from my own memory - I didn't get them off official sources. So, without further ado, here we go with the story. Hope you like... (Don't forget! Feedback please!!) ***** Part One: Hyper-Female In Part One, we learn about Danny, his twin sister Danielle, and Dan's unique abilities as well as other things. One: Betty ***** (Danny) ***** I damaged my larynx when I was seven, and had to have an operation. Or otherwise, I would have died right there and then. I remembered that time, one of the scariest in my life. Our yearly traditional family barbecue with my cousins and their family were at their house that year (who have since relocated to a different part of the country). I and my twin sister were playing with my cousins at their house on that sunny Thanksgiving Day. Back then Danielle and my cousin Roberta were still tomboy enough to insist on playing with us guys. (Danielle and I are fraternal twins - not identical twins. Obviously.) At the time, action shows were big on TV again, and we were playing a game we called Secret Agent: our own version of Cowboys-and- Indians - combining a game of Shoot-Em-Up, Tag, and Simon Sez. Don't ask me to explain. I pushed through some of the stiff drooping branches of the tree in their backyard, tracking down my cousin Alex. I spied him crouching near a hedge that bracketed their house's front door. Obviously, he was using the bushes to hide, but his luck was out because I was behind him and could see him clearly. I smiled and moved in for the kill. I used my hand to push away the branches and held my rubber-band gun out, aiming for his head. I need to hit him at least three times, according to the complicated rules we made up for Secret Agent. Anything less than three doesn't count, and he would still be alive, and can turn around and fire his gun at me. I was concentrating so hard on my aim that some of the smaller branches slipped out and whapped me on my chin and throat. It stung a lot but I was able to fire off my three rubber bands. I saw him rubbing his cheek where I got him, and decided to use up the entire wad of rubber bands for good measure. I ran forward about to whoop in victory when I suddenly found out that I couldn't speak. I stood stock still, my right hand on my throat. My eyes goggled in panic, and I tried to inhale and make some kind of sound. I found that I couldn't, and would have whimpered in panic if I could. I dropped my rubber-band gun and pounded my chest, panic growing in me. I desperately wanted to get a breath in. Alex was shouting at the adults to get their attention. I saw red dripping down my shirt, and I saw my fingers with flecks of blood. I fainted dead away, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in a hospital bed. I got the story from my family, putting the bits and pieces together over the next couple of weeks to my eventual satisfaction. It seemed that my larynx was almost crushed by my throat being whacked by the tree branches, and because of my blocked air passages, I couldn't breathe much less speak. My dad did an emergency tracheotomy right there in the front yard, making a cut low on my neck with his penknife just above my breastbone, and then pushing a drinking straw in. My uncle should have done it - he was a first-year medical intern and knew how to do it - but he was scared to death to touch me. At least he was able to tell Dad what to do. At first, Dad tried to do it by cutting at my neck right on top of my Adam's apple. But Uncle Nathan was able to stop him in time, and he started again at the right place. By then, I was turning blue. I was barely awake from the anesthesia as my mom explained, and I struggled to understand her. I found out that the blood that I had seen on my shirt and fingers was nothing, just blood from a large but non-critical gash immediately underneath my lower lip, and Mom said that they had to use some stitches to close the wound. I shakily raised my left hand and touched the stitches but was stopped by a thick bandage covering my chin, just below my lower lip. I touched my throat and felt a big pillow-like lump covering my neck and upper chest. I looked at my mom and patted her hand, trying to comfort her. I gestured for a drink of the Pepsi Free in her hand. (Remember those?) She was on one of her diet jags again. Instead of the Pepsi, she gave me a small drink of ice water from a glass with a straw. I stayed in the hospital for close to a month, and I got to eat a lot of ice cream - the coldness of the ice cream helped keep the swelling down, and I actually enjoyed the hospital food because of the desserts. Much later, I found out that everyone was afraid I would lose my voice. The doctors did their best, but I was lucky that my voice box was not damaged much. What damage there was however necessitated a little surgery on my vocal cords. Extremely little as it turned out, but it resulted in the shortening of the cords as the detached fibers reattached to the muscles. The resulting shortening of the cords, and the scar tissue at the juncture of the muscle and the tendons made any sound coming from my mouth rough-sounding. Weeks after the operation, when I could speak again, I found that my voice was rougher and the pitch higher. A pre- pubescent bubble-gum chewing Rod Stewart. God. Good thing it smoothened out eventually. In fact, after therapy, my voice became soft and smooth as silk. Too soft for my own good. And it remained at a higher-than- normal pitch. When they took off the bandages and the wounds healed, there were barely scars, but the scars above my chin (the little that there was) made my lower lip very pouty. They also had to fix up the wad of muscle that everyone called the Adam's apple that was inadvertently damaged by Dad. To this day, I have virtually no Adam's apple. As I got older, I found my voice eventually smoothening out - the muscles which regulated the vibration of the cords (which I found out were called the Vocalis muscles) relaxed as time went by, and stretched somewhat to accommodate the shorter cords. But my normal speaking voice sounded higher than what a boy's voice ought to be, and I always sounded a little breathy. When I became a teen-ager, I found that my voice did crack like the others, but it stubbornly remained in a register higher than a boy's, with a timbre that was like a girl's, and everyone teased me about it, no one more so than my twin sister Danielle. And for a boy who was just discovering girls, no blow was more painful than girls giggling about my feminine-sounding voice. Many times I found myself close to tears, and so angry with my sister that I wanted to punch her out. After one of her vicious taunts, I pushed her against the lockers, banging her head against them. She screamed at me, and I turned away and walked down the hallway, shivering with still-unreleased anger. I was a little bit in awe of my sister, a bit of hero worship not uncommon to siblings. That's why her jibes were all the more painful. Peer pressure forced me to try and change my voice and make it sound lower and more masculine. It did require a deliberate effort on my part, though, but eventually, with practice, not only could I make my voice sound lower but different altogether. Constant playing with my voice made me an excellent mimic though, and I could usually make my buddies fall down in stitches anytime I wanted to by imitating some of our teachers and classmates. Their favorite was the voice they named Bimbo Betty. I accidentally invented Betty when I tried to imitate one of Danielle's friends from California (who long since had gone back). I made her sound like a pure Valley Girl bimbo mall-rat, clueless and oversexed. And it sounded extremely sexy on my best friend Morgan's cellular phone (actually his Dad's old cast-off phone - he gave it to Morgan when he bought a newer and sleeker replacement). During many of our sleepovers at Morgan's backyard (backyard camping at our age, can you believe it), I would use Betty and play practical jokes over the phone. Morgan would bring out their kitchen phone and an old-style speaker attachment that he "borrowed" from his dad's office. He'd attach a long extension so we could call people from the enormous tent that we would pitch in his backyard. We'd laugh our heads off as we made calls to people that we knew. (Talk about kid's stuff...) The most memorable one was when I called Tom Hennessy, the biggest jock in school. I spit my gum outside the tent and went into Betty mode. I had him practically jacking off to Betty's voice, but we had to hang up 'cause we couldn't hold in the laughter anymore. Morgan's mother came out because she heard Betty and thought we were fooling around with girls. We laughed all the harder and Morgan's mother went back into the house confused. I guess my talent with my voice was one of the things that made me closer to my friends. We weren't the most popular bunch in school. Unlike Danielle and her girlfriends - all of them smart and, umm, easy on the eyes. But that's okay. We got each other. All of us were too scrawny to play basketball, football or soccer, and usually got picked on in gym class, and the girls that we lusted after, like those in Danielle's crowd, would probably not have given us a second look. I wasn't as scrawny as, say, Mickey, but I was a close second. I just couldn't bulk up at all, but at least I wasn't fat like Jerome. Jerry had some glandular problem, and no matter how much he dieted (he reminded me of my mom that way); the best he could do was to be considered "chubby." The exception in the group would be Morgan. He was relatively tall, athletic, and, I thought, handsome. For guys, though, another guy being handsome is largely a theoretical idea. I, on the other hand, eat like a horse and don't gain an ounce. My sister is the same way, too. But, whereas it was an advantage for a girl, for a guy, not being able to bulk up was not a good thing. That was okay. Like I said, we had each other. What we couldn't get from our peers, our friendship was usually enough to make up for it. Another of my voices was the one I called "Brad Pits". Though it didn't sound anything like Brad Pitt's voice - it was a parody of all the voices that girls seemed to find so sexy and dreamy, full of testosterone and suave self-assurance. Believe it or not, I used David Hasselhoff as my basic pattern, which got Morgan laughing hard when I explained. During one of the campouts, we decided to call some of the girls we knew the numbers of, and played the same trick that we did with the Betty voice. On the third call, I again used the Brad voice and pretended to have dialed a wrong number. I didn't see the number that Morgan had dialed, but a bunch of girls answered over a speakerphone. Their voices sounded familiar, especially the voice of the one I was talking directly with, and it was only after several minutes that I recognized Danielle. She sounded so giggly and flattered that "Brad" was talking with her. She shushed the others and tried to concentrate on "Brad," but I started to feel like a heel. I politely ended the conversation, saying I will call again sometime, and hung up. "Godammit, Morgan, that was my sister," I almost shouted in my normal voice. (This still sounded girlier than Danielle's. Gahh.) "So? What do you care?" "But..." "Yeah dude," Jerry said. "That was a mean trick. You wouldn't have done that if it were your sister." "Well, hell, dude," Morgan answered. "We were just goofin' around. Besides, it's just a bunch of stuck-up bitches." And then he cocked his head to one side. "Anyway," he smirked, "I think it was pretty hilarious." He screwed up his face into a parody of a girl's. "Oh, Brad," he said in a high falsetto, "I'm so glad I answered the phone. Hope you call again real sooon..." He broke down laughing, and I found my mouth twitching. I finally couldn't hold it in anymore and broke up, too. And, at home the following day, Danielle couldn't help but gush over the senior that she talked with over the phone, and speculated about his looks, trying to match the voice with a face. I had trouble keeping a straight face. Two: Twins ***** (Danny) ***** We were twins, fraternal twins, and were born almost at the same time. But she got to call me "little brother" on account of I was born about thirty minutes behind her. Still, we looked so much alike that when we were babies, everyone thought that we were identical twins. Mom told us later that when we were babies we looked so much alike that she had to resort to peeking down our diapers. Or looking at which hand we preferred to use. I was left-handed and Danielle was right. When we were sucking on our bottles, I would hold mine in my left hand and Danielle's in her right. It also didn't help that we have always been about the same height, weight and same hair color (both of us were also green-eyed redheads like Dad, but not with as many freckles, though. We were both almost freckle-free.). We were also given the same names, Daniel and Danielle (courtesy of our screwy Uncle Nathan). Of course, when I got older, I started to use the classically unsound version of Dan. When we got older, it became a lot easier to tell us apart. For one thing, my lips were a lot poutier than hers, owing to the slight overbite that I had, and the scar under my lower lip. That and my constant bubblegum-chewing (or so my mom says). Danielle regularly teased me about my lips, making kissy faces at me. Although when Tomb Raider came, with Angelina Jolie and her oh-so- kissable lips, Danielle didn't tease me about it anymore. Jealous probably. Well, I would have given my lips to her in a nanosecond if I could have more masculine looks. Mom also kept Danielle's red hair long, and I would be given short-cut hair like what my Dad preferred, sort of like a crew cut that has grown out. This made it a lot easier for everyone to tell us apart. Like what identical twins are apt to do, we'd do switching games where we'd switch roles, or pretend to be each other. Or at least Danielle did. Danielle had an easy time masquerading as me: she'd just tuck her long hair into my baseball cap and wear my usual baggy jeans, hi-tops, and loose plaid shirt and jacket, which did an excellent job of hiding her breasts. Her tricks had landed both of us in hot water many times. The last one was when most of the school started believing that I was fooling around with Nikki and Drew. As I got the story, people from school caught me (who was of course not me but Danielle) helping Nikki and little Drew shop for clothes. I, of course, denied it, but everyone pooh-poohed my non-denial denial. And, tell the truth, I couldn't help but strut a little with my new reputation as stud muffin. Which greatly amused Danielle, Nikki and Drew. They'd suddenly pop in just as my math class would be letting out, and escort me to the cafeteria for lunch. I, of course, made a big deal out of them screwing with me and my reputation, but inside, I was flattered with this pseudo-relationship. The guys knew all about it, though - I thought I'd best tell them instead of them finding out from someone else. But they found it hilarious and aided and abetted the girls in the conspiracy. Everyone except Morgan, who had a big crush on Drew. The shit hit the fan when Drew's dad got wind of it, and went to our house to talk with two-timing me. Mr. Logan and Drew's older brother Jim pounded on the door, and my Dad got up off the couch and stomped out to open it, irritated by being forced to miss his favorite show. Danielle and I gave each other a look. Oh-oh. When Jim, Mr. Logan and Dad started shouting at each other, Mom got up, and we timidly tiptoed just behind her to watch the fireworks. It was always scary when big men shouted at each other. Danielle looked so scared that she looked like she was about to puke. When Mr. Logan saw me, he pointed at me. "There he is," he shouted, and the argument went up another decibel. Mom looked at the both of us and, with her mom-radar, or whatever it is mothers had, figured out something was up. She cleared her throat and the men stopped shouting. "Dear," Mom said to Dad, and gestured towards us. "I think the kids would like to say something." She pushed us forward. We looked at each other, and I gave her a little nod of encouragement. "Umm," she began. "Well, Mr. Logan, it's like this..." At the end of it, the adults were laughing and both of us were beet red. Jim's mouth twitched a little. When Jim and Drew's dad left, Dad gave the both of us a stern talking to and grounded us. Danielle stomped upstairs to her room. "It's your fault," she hissed. "What do you mean, my fault! Who decided to wear my clothes to school?" "Well, if your geek friends could keep their traps shut..." "Are you sure it was the guys? Who decided to go to my class and walk me to lunch, in plain view of the student body? I didn't ask to sit with you and your friends." (A little lie there - who didn't want to sit beside Nikki?) "Who decided to go shopping with Drew and Nikki anyway?" "I don't care! It's still your fault!" "In a pig's eye!" She turned to me. "Shut up!" She slammed her door on my face. ***** (Danielle) ***** I stood there behind the door and cried, but I put my hand over my face so that Dan wouldn't hear. I sat on my bed and let go, sobbing great silent tears. In my mind, I knew it wasn't his fault. But I couldn't help doing it. Thinking about Dan always made me a little frustrated. I would imagine his face that looked so much like mine, and see it so clearly, with every blemish and scar and freckle. Or remember holding his hand when we were kids, waiting for Dad to bring ice cream cones while we sat by my uncle's pool. Or him pulling me up over the little dirt embankment near our house as we played some game I didn't remember anymore. There's a big house there, now, and that made me sad. I want to be close to him so much, more that anything. I used to pal around with the twins Judy and Stacey Parker, and remembered how they practically read each other's mind, sometimes not needing to speak - a short look or gesture being good enough. I used to proudly tell people that I also had a twin, and being that young, I probably thought that declaring it would automatically make it happen, that we'd have that closeness, or oneness that I craved. Judy and Stacey would do things together, wearing matching outfits and all that. I would daydream and vicariously imagine that Dan and I were them. I desperately wanted it so. And I cried buckets the day they had to move away. In a way, I wanted what I was doing to be discovered. And maybe make Dan feel what I felt. But I guess he didn't. I had hoped that with Drew and Nikki flirting with him, he would have played along. Especially with Nikki. It was one of those things, you know. Everyone knew how stuck my brother was on my best friend, except for Nikki herself. I chuckled at that, and held my pillow all the more tightly. I felt so small in the middle of my bed. I felt more than heard Dan knocking, but I didn't want to get up. Go away, I thought. But I felt his concern. Maybe it was the softness of the knock. It's open, I thought. He should just come in. And he did. I sat up on my bed, still clutching my pillow, and he came to me. His face asked what the matter was. I looked into his eyes, which were my eyes, too. I shrugged and looked down. He took me by the chin, and lifted my head. He didn't understand, probably thinking that being grounded wasn't that big a deal. I shook my head. That wasn't it. He climbed onto the bed and hugged me then. Whatever it was, he seemed to be saying, I'll be there for you. I'll try to make it better. I hugged him back fiercely, and my tears slowly died away. We stayed that way for a while on my big king-size bed - my grandparents' wonderful old bed that was now mine. I broke out in goose pimples. This is how it should be. And my brain started to churn out some more ideas. I giggled. Three: Costumes ***** (Danny) ***** Nothing more was made of the incident, with Drew prevailing over her Dad and older brother to let it go and to not spread the word around. Jim agreed to keep quiet but the price was that Drew would fix him up with a date with Danielle. Thank god Danielle didn't make a big deal out of it, and the whole issue faded in time, and everything went back to normal, or what passed for normal around here, and Danielle kept on with her role- switching thing. With my short hair, I couldn't really switch as easily to being Danielle. But, last year, Danielle found a way around the hair thing. She had insisted on us dressing up for Halloween Costume Day at school that year. She and the girls that she pals around with had already thought up a scheme. Danielle was going in a man's tux, but she needed someone to dress as a bride, sort of to complement her groom's costume. She and her girlfriends had cornered me alone in the house, and convinced me. 'Course I wouldn't have agreed, if Nikki, Danielle's best friend, hadn't asked me. I looked into those blue eyes and fell in love all over again. Guess who was going to be wearing white. Danielle made Mom buy a long red wig in a color close to my real hair's color, and she would be lending me an old used costume that she bought from a costume rental place downtown. She fully intended to wear the sexy thing herself, so she had altered it to fit her. But after thinking about it, she chickened out and changed her mind. And since I was her exact size... She woke me up early and made me take my shower. Still yawning, I stepped into the bathroom and relieved myself. I peered into the bathroom mirror and rubbed the side of my face. I couldn't feel any stubble despite the fact that the last I had shaved was days ago. Par for the course. Dad didn't have much facial and body hair, too, and it looks like I wasn't going to be any different. I took a quick shower and toweled myself dry. I went easy with the towel, since my skin has been very sensitive lately. I had just gone to the barber's several weeks ago, so my hair was still short enough that I didn't need to blow-dry it. Though I'm gonna need to go again soon. Danielle and I had fast-growing hair. Again courtesy of Dad. I stepped out and put on a pair of boxer shorts. Danielle grabbed me and pulled me into her room, almost tripping me up on my junior-size Strat guitar that was lying on the floor. "Now, it's time for you to get into character," she said. She was already in her costume, a man's black tux and tails, with appropriate cummerbund. She wasn't wearing any makeup yet, though. She gestured towards her bed where the dress was, and I came fully awake. "Danielle, I think I changed my mind," I said, forgetting to change my voice and spoke in my natural girly voice. "Too late for that, Bub." I backed away. "Nope. Uh-uh. I'm not wearing that. No way." "Sorry, but everyone's expecting us to be in costume." She grabbed my wrist and dragged me back into her room. I saw her makeup kit in her other hand and I let out a scream. With my voice, I should have cracked glass. I think I was a little too loud because I woke Mom and Dad up. Dad actually yelled at me to pipe down. As we struggled, Mom sleepily walked in the room, still in her robe. "What the heck's going on?" "Mom," I screamed, "Danielle wants to put makeup on me!" Mom looked at Danielle. "I have to make him look good enough so the dress'll look okay on him." She held up the extremely short white dress. With that, Mom finally woke up. I'm sure she remembered Danielle telling her about the Halloween costume and what the wig was for. "What do you have in mind?" Mom asked. "Something really simple," said Danielle, "so it'll be easy to fix at school if we have to." "I don't know," Mom said. "Maybe we can do something that's elegant but easy to maintain." It was like they had the same mind. "Mom! Don't tell me you're going along with this?" With a small smile of conspiracy, they both dragged me into Mom's bedroom. They had plunked me unceremoniously in front of Mom's makeup vanity, and proceeded to work over my face. Mom shooed Dad into the bathroom and made him take his shower. "Mom, please." I pleaded with her. "I don't want to go to school with makeup and dressed like a girl!" Danielle cackled in her best mad scientist laugh. "Hush, Dan," Mom said. "Now hold your face steady, unless you want some of this in your eye." She started to put powder on my face and forehead, and a layer of another more pinkish powder on my cheekbones. I saw myself in the mirror. Because of the powder on my cheekbones, I looked like I was perpetually on the verge of blushing. Mom started to put some other kind of powder from a little stick onto my eyelids. I smelled the cosmetic and, because I associated the smell with pretty girls, I sort of got excited. After smoothening out and smudging the colors on my eyelids with her finger, Mom put a thick black liquid on my lashes, making them more noticeable and longer looking than normal. "Mascara," she said. She then took a pencil-like thing and drew my eyebrows into little crescents. After the pencil thing, Danielle handed Mom a tube of lipstick. "What do you think about this color?" Mom took off the cap and held the lipstick beside my face. "I think the color doesn't match. Could you get something a little lighter?" "How about this one? This is my favorite." Mom looked at the color. "Yes, I guess this'll work." She then ran the stick over my lips and painted the corners with care using a little itty- bitty brush. "Open your mouth," she said. She then proceeded to put more of it on my lips. Danielle handed her a tissue. "Here," Mom said, "blot the lipstick with this, just using your lips." I sort of bit down on it with my lips the way I saw girls do it, and Mom threw away the tissue. Mom searched through her table and came up with large clip-on hoop earrings, and attached them to my lobes. "No time to do her nails, anymore," she said. "Danielle, the wig." She held out her hand. Danielle took the long, flowing wig out of the box and handed it to Mom. Mom took out what looked like a hairnet from inside the wig and put it on my head. The hairnet went tightly but not uncomfortably over my real hair and made it look like I was wearing a hairnet skullcap. She then took the wig and shook it out a little bit and put it over the hairnet. She pushed down the little adhesive tabs just at my hairline, and tugged the wig down snugly on my head. She then pushed little hairpins through the wig and into my real hair, making sure the wig wouldn't fall off. The bulk of the false hair hid the pins. "There, does that feel secure?" I felt my head and the false hair. It wasn't as warm as I thought it would be. The wig felt like a skullcap, and the material like real hair, but it smelled a little musty. Mom started to brush the wig, from just behind the hairline at the forehead straight back, smoothening out the tangles. It sort of felt like someone combing my real hair, but without the tingling that you'd usually feel. The hair fell in smooth waves down past my shoulders and I felt it laying down my back, the ends just going past my butt. It was a way long wig! She then turned me towards the mirror. "Now, what do you think?" I gaped at myself. The image in the mirror was that of a pretty redhead, as pretty as Danielle. Big sparkling green eyes framed by long lashes, a small and narrow nose, perfect eyebrows, small chin and long shiny red hair half obscuring the hoop earrings. "Oh my God," I mumbled to myself. I moved my head to make sure that the babe in the mirror was me. She moved in synch with me. My bright shiny oh-so-pouty lips trembled, and I looked like a nervous girl, naked from the shoulders up, and about to hurl. The style and hairdo made me look sufficiently different from Danielle (and, therefore different from the old me, too) that you would not have associated Dan the guy with Dan the Robo-babe. Except for the red hair, I could have been just another one of Danielle's sexy friends instead of her geeky brother. I was about to touch my cheek, but Mom stopped me. "Careful," she said. "You don't want to smudge my work of art." I searched the face, looking for imperfections, or some false note that would give away the fact that I was a boy. I couldn't find any, but maybe that was because I didn't know what to look for. Danielle held out the dress "Now for the rest," she said, and waggled her eyebrows evilly. I looked at the dress and then at Danielle's gleeful face. Knowing I wouldn't get any sympathy from her, I looked to Mom. "Sorry, little girl," she said with a giggle. "You won't get any help from me." I almost cried. In the end, I went and put on the costume. Danielle could always make me do whatever she wanted. I wore what I later learned was called a gaffe (I also found out I was wearing it the wrong way that time). I wore panties over it (Danielle insisted) and sheer white pantyhose, white high heels, something called a waist cincher, and the dress (I wouldn't have been able to put it on at all if Danielle didn't help to button up the back). It was a very tight sheer white wedding dress, though no one would have thought it was a wedding dress without the veil and long white opera gloves - a hooker's wedding dress, if there was such a thing. It was a very sexy dress - a stretchy, opaque lycra-spandex one-piece with a very short skirt that barely covered my crotch, and a collar like a turtleneck. And although the front was fully covered, my shoulders and upper back was completely bare. The veil was also relatively short - not long enough to reach the floor. Mom pushed the veil away from my face and made it all hang at the back. I could feel the veil and my wig on my bare shoulders and back, the ends of the wig just tickling the upper back part of my thighs. I found it hard to believe, but I was having some trouble with the sheer weight of the wig. Danielle had modified the dress so that there were large realistic bumps where the breasts were supposed to be. I looked at Danielle, and she smirked. "Shoulder pads," she said. Though the back was mostly bare, the dress was high enough that the waist cincher was hidden. I was already a thin guy, and with the waist cincher on, I now had an extremely narrow waist, changing the lines of the dress into the clich? hourglass figure, making my hips look wider than they were. "I don't think we'll need to pad out your hips anymore," she said, looking me over. She moved the wig to the side and ran her hand over my spandex-covered butt, and I shivered. That felt good. "You've got a great butt, Danny-boy. Almost as good as mine. No padding needed there, either." "Danielle Louise Fairchild!" my mom cried out. Danielle giggled. "Just kidding, Mom. But doesn't Dan's butt just look so sexy?" Mom looked at me with a happy smile on her face. "My God, Danielle. You're absolutely right. Danny, you're positively gorgeous! Now, I have two beautiful daughters." I frowned at her and stomped my foot. "Mom!" She laughed at the little involuntary display of feminine frustration. This just made me angrier. Danielle was giggling a little, and I turned to her, my hand clenching into a fist. She ducked behind Mom. "You!" I bellowed. Dad came in the room, freshly washed with a towel around his waist. He saw me and, in a stunned way walked into the closet door. Mom and Danielle laughed, causing him to blush. I on the other hand was so mortified that I started to cry. Mom and Danielle stopped laughing and stared. "Dan!" said Danielle, shocked and distressed at my tears. Mom rushed to me and took me in her arms. A dam broke and I cried on her shoulder. "Mom, why? Why are you doing this to me? I can't go to school like this. Please. Please..." My girly voice only made me cry harder. She led me to the bed and sat me down and held me. Danielle tried to get near me, but Mom subtly shook her head no. Dad put his hand on Danielle's shoulder and looked on in worry. "Listen to me, Dan," Mom said. "Don't take this badly. It's just a costume. If you really don't want to wear it, you don't have to." Danielle was about to protest but Mom gave her a look that stopped her. "But is it such a big deal?" Mom continued. "Wearing a costume won't change who you are. You'll still be the same nice, handsome boy you've always been, and girls will be lucky to have you as their boyfriend." "But, Mom, people will make fun of me." "Listen, dear. It's Halloween Costume Day. Do you think you will be the only one with a costume? Why should anyone pay attention to you more than they would the others? I remember last year. If today is going to be anything like that, you won't be the most outlandishly-dressed boy today. No one will pay attention more than normal. Believe me." I sniffed and rubbed my nose. I smiled a little at her, and looked at Danielle, her arms around Dad. She looked so remorseful. "Oh, Dan. I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd take it so badly. I didn't mean to hurt you." I smiled a little and held out my arms to her. She ran to me and hugged me so tightly. "It's okay, Sis." "I'll call the girls and tell them you won't be joining us in the contest." I looked at her. "You really want me to do this?" "No," she said quietly, and looked down. I knew that she was lying. But I said: "It's okay, Danielle. Like Mom says, no big deal. I'll do it." She perked up and looked at me. "Really? You don't mind?" "I don't mind. Well, not much anyway." She clapped her hands. "Cool! I'll tell the girls." She kissed me on the cheek and ran out to call her friends. I looked at Mom and we shared the same tolerant affectionate smile. "Come on, let's fix your makeup. You've absolutely ruined it. George, go downstairs and get breakfast started, would you?" "Okay, Dear," Dad said, dressed rapidly, kissed mom as she worked on my makeup, and went downstairs. In a short while, Mom had me looking like before and turned me around towards the mirror. I was again transfixed, and was about to touch my face. "Uh uh," said Mom, and I dropped my hand. I smiled at her ruefully. "My dear, you really look gorgeous." We both peered at the new face in the mirror. "Thanks. I guess." "Come on, let's go downstairs and have some breakfast." I sat down by the kitchen table, and Dad plopped a pile of his famous blueberry waffles in front of me, five pigs-in-a-blanket (that's sausages fried wrapped in dough), and a big plate of scrambled eggs. Mom and Dad were having a whispering fight while they were fixing breakfast for themselves. Obviously the fight was about me. "Guys, we can hear you," Danielle said loudly, and they stopped. "We'll talk about this later," Dad grated. Danielle was already eating, more slowly than her usual lumberjack pace. She was obviously trying not to get her rented suit messed up. I took the cue, and tried to be equally careful, what with my white dress and made-up face. As an added measure, Dad handed me his "'lobster bib," which he usually uses when he's barbecuing, or if we're having shrimp takeout or spaghetti or other kinds of food where he's in danger of splattering or something. Mom sat next to Dad, and had just one piece of toast and orange juice. Me and Dad looked at each other and rolled our eyes at this. But Dad quickly looked down self-consciously, not able to meet my eyes. I tried to control the tears. Danielle and I finished almost at the same time, and Dad, anticipating us, loaded up our plates again, and watched with slight amusement as we dug in with a vengeance. Dad insisted on bringing us to school, which I was subtly grateful for - I wouldn't have been able to stand going in the bus with a lot of kids making fun of me, and I was too distracted to drive my car. But before she let me get in, she touched up my makeup first. Apparently, after every meal, girls have to repair their faces. As I feared, when we got out of Dad's car, my buds were shocked indeed, and gave me grief about my getup, especially Morgan, but not as much as I thought they would, probably because they were all feeling silly in their costumes, too. Mickey was going as a seventies Gene Simmons from Kiss, Jerry as a terribly overweight Indiana Jones, and Morgan as a leather- clad biker punk, the 75cc Honda he rode completing his ensemble. He even had a bulge on his shoulder, but I was pretty sure it was his crappy old celphone and not a pack of smokes. Well, at least he had a celphone. I wanted one so bad. They were all oggling me, and I fidgeted around so much that it looked like I needed to go to the bathroom. Danielle's friends came up, all decked out in their costumes. Nikki was looking especially sexy and believable in the classic hooker costume. She was wearing lots of makeup, lots of costume jewelry, a short pink middy sweater, a black leather miniskirt, opera hose, and an extremely high pair of red heels. Joanne was wearing a loud polyester suite, a fedora, large wayfarer shades and an Afro wig and faux mustache. You could almost feel how slimy the "guy" was from ten paces away. Because she was dressed like a man, and with her dark-brown complexion, she looked somewhat like a seventies Jimmy Walker or a taller, bad-ass version of Chris Tucker. She was easily believable as Nikki's pimp. She had immediately started in on Morgan, and how he should trade up on his dinky Honda bike and its little sewing machine engine. Joanne's mom was an assistant manager for a Suzuki dealership, and she promised Joanne a hefty commission if she could get one of her friends or their parents to buy a Suzuki. Morgan sighed and told her, for the umpteenth time that he'll think about it. Nikki's and Joanne's outfits were complemented by Mel's policewoman uniform, handcuffs and a baton hanging from her belt. But little Drew had on a Batgirl costume, like the one in the current Batman cartoon, fake red hair sticking out of the back of the headpiece and a very short cape reaching just below her shoulderblades. Her costume wasn't in synch with the others' costumes, but the tight yellow belt, black opaque tights and the tall yellow boots made her swinging hips extremely sexy, and none of us guys felt she was out of place at all. Especially Morgan. All eight of us, minus Kyle, walked through the main gate of the school, everyone complimenting each other for their costumes. The girls were excessive in their compliments on my costume while the guys were oddly quiet, giving me stares when they thought I wasn't looking. Danielle insisted on taking our time walking to our homerooms, giving the rest of the school a chance to see the two of us walking down the hallway arm in arm. With friends around me, I felt protected. And, oddly enough I slowly felt comfortable enough that I sort of sashayed down the hall. I had brought a jacket, but Danielle said not to wear it until after homeroom. So I shivered slightly from the cool air and walked to our rooms. With the veil hanging from the back of my head, I felt more ridiculous than embarrassed. "Whoa, baby," Tom Hennessy said, and did a double-take. He didn't recognize me, even though I was arm-in-arm with Danielle. Something came over me. With my friends protecting me, I decided to screw with his mind, and smiled my best seductive smile. "Hey, good looking," I said in a variation of my Betty voice, and thrusted my already prominent "breasts" out. Tom's eyes goggled at the triple-whammy of boobs, outfit, and my voice. "My God! You've got such a sexy voice." I smiled my most vapid smile and wiggled a little. "Really?" "Really, really! God, you look and sound incredible." Danielle tugged at me, making me walk. I frowned a little in irritation, because Danielle was spoiling my fun. The guys were barely in control of their faces, but Tom was oblivious to all of this, being so smitten with lil ole me. I let Danielle pull me along, and I exaggerated the swing of my hips as I walked. Tom walked beside me and ogled my ass, mesmerized. "So, what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" he asked. As if on cue, the girls all groaned simultaneously. The last bell rang, and everyone, including other hangers-on, disappeared in the directions of their homerooms, including Tom. He shyly gave me a little wave and said he hoped to see me later. I dropped Danielle off in her homeroom, with accompanying wolf whistles and assorted sound effects from the class, and Morgan and I went on to our own homeroom, with me having to hold onto his arm. My feet hurt like hell! I could barely balance on the heels, making Morgan so nervous that he was just about to jump out of his skin. "Cool it, bro," I said. "It's just me here." I took pity on him so I let go. "I'm cool, I'm cool," he said. "Come on, walk a little faster! I don't want to be late." He walked at a very fast pace, and I tried to keep up, but I was having trouble with the tight dress and heels. The fast tap-tap of my shoes was quite loud and got everyone's attention. Not that the costume and veil didn't. Most of the guys had their eyes riveted to either my ass or my boobs, as they wiggled involuntarily. I tried to find a way to walk in the heels and skirt that wouldn't make my hips sway too much, and I almost fell on my face. Morgan caught me just in time, and reluctantly offered his arm again. "Better take it, or do you want to break your neck?" "Thanks, Morgan." I sighed in relief. Before entering the room, Morgan hastily let go of me and walked to his desk. I walked to my own chair, and the kids made cat calls. "Ho ho ho, lookin' good, babe," said my seatmate Blane. "Drop dead, dickhead," I said, and sat down. When I got off my feet, I breathed a sigh of relief. I wondered why girls put up with high heels. Mr. Wilson had everyone sit down and started roll call. "Mr. Fairchild," he called when it was my turn, and I raised my hand. He raised an amused eyebrow. "Or should I say, Ms. Fairchild?" Everyone laughed and tittered. I blushed and scrunched down in my seat. I took off the veil and put on my jacket. It sort of helped, but I could feel eyes on me the whole time. I tried to ignore the feeling. The wig felt uncomfortable, trapped inside the jacket's collar, so I did one of those patented girl things and swept the hair out so it would lay on the outside of the jacket. I blushed, belatedly realizing what I just did. I noticed some of the guys and girls behind me, looking at me with mouths agape. I blushed all the more, and scrunched down my seat even further. Mr. Wilson started handing out ballots for best-of-homeroom costume, and I was voted unanimously (I charitably didn't put anything in my own ballot). Morgan and I had the same classes in the morning, for which I was grateful since I now had someone I could hold on to and help me keep from falling. We walked to our next class. My feet hurt! God... It was a new experience being whistled at as I walked around. At least I haven't fallen on my face yet. Or get patted on the ass, thank God. I kept my hands in my jacket pocket, and kept my big boobs hidden. Because of me, Morgan and I walked in late. "Glad you could join us Mr. McPherson," Ms. Greene, our history teacher said. "Who's your new girlfriend?" Everyone looked at the two of us with interest. Morgan blushed and whispered in Ms. Greene's ear. Ms. Greene giggled and gestured. "So, umm, go ahead and find your seats, so we can begin." Good God, no one recognized me! I took a vacant seat at the back, not my usual one, with the hope that not many people will see me, or associate Dan with the present me. A couple of times during the class, Ms. Greene had to remind the guys to look up front, as they tried to stare at me. And not a few of the girls, either. Morgan shook his head and tried not to look at me. I was trying to keep my nervousness under control - this was the most attention I'd had in a long time. After class, I got up to leave and several guys swarmed over me and tried to chat me up. Shit! I tried to keep cool and keep my lies as simple as I could. I had changed my voice a bit, too, just so I wouldn't be recognized right away and allow me to escape. Morgan came to my rescue. "Guys, we'll be late for our next class," he said, and possessively took my arm and walked me out, surprising the hell out of me. One of the guys whispered under his breath, "lucky bastard," he said, and nervously looked to see if Morgan heard. He saw me looking at him, and he ducked his head. It was like that for the next few periods, and I felt relief when it was time for lunch. At lunchtime, me and the guys hung around each other, sort of as mutual protection as we stood in line in the cafeteria. Oddly, I found I was in the middle, with a phalanx of my buds around me, sort of protecting me. I felt small, vulnerable, but thankful and flattered by their attention. And then I hit a mental speed bump. Wait a minute... I still wore my old bomber jacket over the dress (which looked a little weird, but in a sexy kind of way), long, fake hair streaming back. I was feeling a little cold and embarrassed so the jacket helped a lot. Though I found it didn't help all that much 'cause some guys walked up to me to compliment me on my looks or my outfit, or asked my name. Morgan gave them the evil eye and they sort of faded away. Hey, guys, it's me, Dan! Danielle, Nikki and their gang were all in costume, too (Mel was there having lunch with them for once), and were the most conspicuous clique in the cafeteria during lunch, making a boisterous time of it, and enjoying the attention. But, wonder of wonders, me and my buds were running a close second because most of us were in costume, too, except for Kyle, who was in his regular sneaks, loose jeans and plaid shirt. Mickey was enjoying his costume too much and started getting into his character. He would strum a riff off an imaginary guitar and stick his tongue out the way the real Gene Simmons would. But he was doing it too much, and was in danger of getting slapped or punched or something. Danielle wanted me to hang around her and her friends - my costume complementing hers well. Actually, without me, no one would know what Danielle was supposed to be, and then where would she be - just a pretty girl wearing a tux. So that meant that my own crew got to hang out with the girls, too. which the guys thought was a good deal. "So," Danielle asked, "did ya get voted?" ***** (Nikki) ***** I couldn't believe it was Dan. He was looking so hot, it was incredible. Sure, I thought my slut costume was good, and Drew had that sex kitten look down pat, but neither of us could hold a candle to Dan. There was just something about him. I looked and looked, and there was really nothing unusual in his appearance. Sure he looked like an incredible hotty - long, gorgeous red hair, beautiful eyes, sexy lips and makeup, what appeared to be big boobs, narrow waist, long and shapely legs, a tremendous ass, all in that sexy form-fitting dress. But then again, there were girls in school that were as gorgeous (but nor many). Danielle, for one. So, what was another gorgeous babe? But, God, he looked more beautiful than Danielle, and I would have thought that a little impossible. There was nothing to account for this sexy aura that seemed to surround him. This was Dan-the-Nerd, for God's sake. It was the entire package, I guess. His slightly na?ve demeanor and air of innocence coupled with his hot-to-trot costume and gorgeous face made him the ultimate virgin: wanton, but untouched and secretly afraid. And the thought that he was a guy underneath all that just got my engine revving. We made room for them ay our table. He sat down beside Danielle, and started talking with his nerd buddies. I smiled at him a little shyly. Clearly the kids at the other tables were feeling it, too, especially the guys. They were almost creaming in their pants. And Joanne was practically drooling as she stared at him with goo-goo eyes. I wanted to hit her. And then I stopped. Why should I care? Am I actually jealous? But I looked at him, and felt a funny feeling in my stomach. What is it with him? What is it with me, for that matter? Morgan and his friends accused Dan of being some perverted fairy walking around in girl clothes, and he started to get angry. Me, too. I found myself defending him. "You guys are so puerile," I said. "Why don't you lay off her, umm, I mean him. Whatever! Just lay off, okay? It's not even his idea." "Oooh! Puerile!" said Mickey. "What's that? Like we're, like, Greek gods or something?" We rolled our eyes. "Get a brain, why don't you," said Mel. "Yeah, dude," said Joanne. "It was all our idea. So don't give him any more grief." She lifted a balled fist. "Or you'll answer to this!" The guys backed up. "Whoa, bitch," said Mickey. "Don't get your panties in a bunch..." Joanne's fist flew and hit him smack in the mouth. He fell back and his head connected with the linoleum floor. Pow! We gasped. Morgan hauled him up. Mickey's head lolled around his shoulders, completely knocked out. Joanne sheepishly looked at her fist. Kyle suggested that they bring him to the nurse, and they practically carried Mickey out of the cafeteria. The people in the cafeteria cheered. Joanne rushed to catch up with them, holding her face in horror. She ran back and dragged Mel along for company. "Yikes!" she yelped. "Bye, girls!" That left me alone. With Dan! Well, Drew and Danielle were there, too, but that hardly counted. "I hope Mickey will be all right," said Drew. "He'll be okay," Dan said. "He's hit his head a lot harder than that before." But Dan thought it over, and moved as if to get up. "I guess I better go after them." My hand shot up to his arm and pulled him back down. "No, Dan!" I practically yelled. He and the girls looked at me in surprise. "Umm... I was, umm, gonna say that I think Morgan and the others got it covered. Sit down and finish your lunch, for God's sake." Dan grinned shyly at me and sat down. I blushed. I couldn't help it. "Oooh," Danielle said, and pinched me and Dan playfully. ***** (Danny) ***** Most of the student body was already in the auditorium when we arrived, the pep rally was scheduled after the mandatory homeroom role call to make sure no one had snuck off. As far as we could see, the only available seats left were in front. Nikki and her friends were waving to us from the front. I looked around and saw Morgan, Kyle and Jerry way at the back, no sign of Mickey. Mickey was sent home early. Morgan signaled and shook his hands - no more seats. "Shit," I said to Danielle. "We're gonna have to sit up front." "No sweat, Dan. Let's go." We walked down the middle aisle amidst catcalls and wolf whistles. Danielle smiled at me as we walked to the front. I held onto her arm with a death grip. With my head-dress and high heels, I towered over Danielle. But other than that, I thought we looked good. My bride costume matched Danielle's coat-and-tails. Danielle was getting off on all the attention, and waved jauntily at the crowd. The girls tittered, and the guys howled. "Swing your hips," Danielle whispered. "Huh?" "Swing your hips!" She put her hands on my hips and demonstrated how she wanted me to do it. I complied and sashayed the rest of the way. It drove the guys wild. When we got to the front row, I thankfully sank down into my seat. I was starting to feel cold, but I didn't know if it was because I was scared to death or because of my short dress. "Lookin' good, girl," said Joanne, and gave me a peck on the cheek and giggled. I blushed. Mel also gave me a little kiss, and I playfully slapped her, laughing in embarrassment. Nikki gave me a long look, staring at me in a funny way. I smiled at her in embarrassment, and she then suddenly leaned over and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. My eyes grew wide, and she blushed furiously, matching my own red face. Our principal, Ms Harmon, stepped up the stage with Betsy Haley, our class president, and started the program. All of the representatives from the different homerooms were asked to step up the stage. Ms Harmon announced each of our names and we climbed up one by one. Nikki was called and she climbed up. She primped and did a little curtsy. Drew was also called, she did a hand flip before getting in line, and got some applause. When it was Danielle's and my turn, Betsy handed our names together. Ms Harmon called us together, and we stepped up the stage. The rest of the class hummed the wedding march, and the girls tittered. As we planned, I threw the bouquet to the crowd. All the girls reached for it, but it ended up landing on the head of Tom Hennessy. Who couldn't get his mouth to close. Everyone laughed. Tom threw it to the front in anger. Joanne reached out and grabbed it out of the air, and squealed theatrically. Good thing I was one of the last to be called, because that meant I wouldn't be standing there as long as the others. I needed to get off my feet. And soon. Thankfully, Betsy had everything organized properly and the voting went really fast. I got tied with two others for first place, someone dressed as Darth Maul from Star Wars, and Drew. After the runoff vote, I ended up first place, Drew at second, and Darth Maul at third. They gave us our prize money, and we each got a round of mandatory applause. The class trickled out of the auditorium, and we left the stage to grab our stuff. I took off the veil, and sat down heavily. "Oooh, my aching feet," I said, and wiggled my instep. A shadow loomed over me, and I saw Tom Hennessy. I also saw several other guys behind him. "Umm, what's up, guys?" "So, you think that's funny, huh, sissy-boy? You thought you could make fun of me, huh?" I stood up, a little panicked. "Make fun of you?" Morgan and the guys ran up. "Hey, look," said Tom. "Here are sissy-boy's geek friends. What, you need someone to fuck your butt, now?" Morgan stepped forward, but Joanne held him back. "Not worth it, kid." She gave Danielle the same look. "Chill, Danielle." Mel looked at the mean crowd that was gathering, and ran out of the auditorium. "One of your dyke girlfriends just ran off, babe," Tom said. Joanne refused to be baited, and stood her ground. Danielle stepped forward. "What's this all about, Tom?" "Nuthin'. Just wanna talk to your fairy brother, here." "What about?" "Like what's he doing dressed up like a girl." "It's a Halloween costume, Einstein," said Morgan. "Duh." "You little prick!" He moved to Morgan. Jerry and Kyle moved to back him up. I couldn't let my buds down so I stepped forward, too. "Hey," Morgan said. "Not everyone's as dim as you, man. It's your fault if you let your dick think for you." He was about to pop Morgan one, when we heard someone clear her throat. We turned around and saw Ms Harmon, Mel right beside her. "What is this all about, Mr. Hennessy?" "Umm. Nuthin', Miz Harmon. Just wanted to congratulate our winner, here." "I am sure Mr. Fairchild appreciates your congratulations. But you and your friends should go home, now." Tom glared at me, and moved off. He roughly brushed passed Mel, and his cronies followed. I let out my breath. "Thanks, Miz Harmon." "Think nothing of it, Mr. Fairchild. You and your friends should run along, too." I smiled my thanks and turned to go. "Oh, by the way, Mr. Fairchild. Congratulations." I smiled my nervous smile and we fled out of the auditorium. We went to the MacDonald's at the end of town - well away from school, and we pigged out on fries and Cokes - Drew's and my treat, courtesy of our prize money. Danielle and I were having the same - triple fries and quarter-pounders, of course. Except I was drinking a Dew, and she was drinking a Coke Light. Hah! What diet? Drew had taken off her Batgirl mask, and Joanne had taken off the afro. I wanted to take my wig off, too, but Danielle insisted I keep it on until I could change clothes, otherwise I'll look like a transvestite. So I kept it on, though I did slip off my heels to relax a little. Mel was looking at Danielle and me, mouth agape. "Jesus," said Mel. "I still can't believe it. You two eat like pigs!" "Mmffrrgh," I said, and she shook her head. "Where do you put it all?" Mel asked. Danielle let out a little burp. "Doesn't seem to be a problem for us. I think we just have fast metabolisms." "Ayuh, nrrpffpllbm," I agreed. "God, you guys don't know how lucky you are." She turned to Jerry. "How about you?" Jerry was just drinking a small Coke. It was a little funny for a big guy to be drinking from such a small cup. "I'm not as lucky," he said. Joanne reached across the table and gave him a friendly pat on his shoulder. She was sitting between Danielle and me. Morgan was still looking at me. "I still can't believe that you're wearing that getup." "It'ff her faultff," I said and pointed at Danielle. "Hey, it's just clothes and a wig, for God's sake," she said. "No big." "No Big?" "No!" "Cool it, girlfriend," Joanne said. "They're just concerned about Dan." "Damn straight!" "Hey, guys, trust me. I'm not turning gay or anything." I wiped my mouth. "Coulda fooled us, babe." I blushed at that. "Hey, watch it with the ketchup!" Danielle said. "That's still my dress." "Okay, okay." "So," asked Kyle. "What do we do tonight?" "I know," Joanne snapped her finger. "There's a party at Betsy's tonight. Wanna crash?" "Betsy?" Asked Mel. "Betsy Haley is throwing a party? You're kidding." "What's so crazy about Betsy throwing a party?" She paused a bit. "Well, it's actually being thrown by her parents..." "It's Betsy, for God's sake! Geek City." "She's not a geek!" Joanne said. "She can be cool. I like her." "You just like her because she has red hair." "Yeah? So, I like redheads. So what?" She gave us both a hug, and gave Danielle and me pecks on the cheek. "Hey!" I said. She pulled back. "Umm, my fries..." Everyone laughed. "Where did you get to know Betsy, anyway?" "I met her when we were both attending violin classes." "Violin?" Drew said. Mel made a buzzer sound. "Geek alert! Geek alert!" Joanne smacked her head lightly. "So, you play the violin?" I asked. "Cool!" "Well..." she looked down embarrassed. "My dad made me quit after a couple of months. He said he couldn't stand my playing..." We broke up laughing. "But he said he would pay for any other class! Like piano or something..." We laughed some more at that. Danielle caught her breath. "So, how about Betsy? Did she quit, too?" giggle. "No! She really had talent for it. She's still attending her classes as far as I know. And the one time I heard her play, I thought it was wonderful. We're friends." "Well, why weren't you invited to this little soiree of hers?" "Actually, I was. but I didn't know how you felt about her... so I said 'no.'" Kyle happened to look around, checking out the other girls in the place. "Oh-oh," Kyle said. "What's up," Danielle asked. We all looked over to the front of the restaurant. "It's Tom!" "Holy Shit," said Mel. "We gotta get out of here!" All of us scooched down the booth and waited for Tom and his buddies to go inside the bathroom. "Now's our chance," Danielle said. "Go! Go!" Everyone grabbed their stuff and ran for the door. I grabbed my heels but didn't bother to put them on, and ran. As we passed the men's room doors, Tom stepped out. "Hey!" Jerry and Kyle careened off a bunch of people, and got out the door. The others followed suit. My nylons were making me slip on the floor, and couldn't go as fast as the others. I saw Tom's buddies step out, and I redoubled my efforts as they gave chase. I built up so much momentum I found I couldn't stop. So I slid passed the lines in front of the registers. "Wow!" said one of the uniformed waiters. I held out a hand and stopped myself against the glass door. I panted a bit and waved to everyone "Bye, all," I said in my Betty voice and ran out. Nikki had the passenger door of Joanne's mom's minivan open, and Danielle was in the back, waving me to hurry up. I slammed in right beside Nikki. "Ooof!" Joanne floored the gas, and we peeled out of the parking lot. Everyone tumbled to the right side of the van. "Watch it!" Jerry snarled. Nikki squished against me, and I held onto her for dear life. We saw Tom's red Camaro in the rear view, roaring after us. We screamed down the street towards our neighborhood. When we got a little bit of a lead and were out of their sight, we turned off into a small blind alley, and Joanne switched off the lights. Everyone kept quiet. We must have stayed that way for a while, wondering when it would be safe to go again, and then saw Tom's car flash by in the rear view. We all sighed and caught our collective breath. In the silence, we heard a wet squishing sound. "What's that?" Kyle asked in a quivering voice. "Umm, fries anyone?" Danielle held out her fries, munching. Everyone exploded in laughter. Four: Party ***** (Danny) ***** After going back to MacDonald's to pick up Morgan's cycle, everyone had decided to crash Betsy's party, so we went to her