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My Wonderful Obsession Part 28: It's All Downhill From Here Driving to the airport bright and early on December twenty-seventh, Mom and I found ourselves, once again, rehashing my 'situation' with the McCowans. "I still think you're worrying too much," she told me. "When they look at you they see a very pretty, very feminine girl, and they know their son loves you. Their daughter does, too. And I can tell that THEY'RE fond of you. If you have a condition that prevents you from having children, they're not going to hold that against you. You can always adopt, you know. Anyway, my intuition tells me that they want YOU to marry their son, and no one else." "Mom, do you really think so? I dunno - I wish more than anything it was true - but I just can't imagine it." "Why don't you just promise yourself that you're going to have a wonderful time this week. Please don't let this keep bothering you. And please be very careful! I don't want you coming home with a broken leg." "That's an easy promise to keep. I'm such a chicken when it comes to sports. I probably won't get off the bunny hill the whole week." We met up with Mark's family at the check-in counter. They had my boarding pass all set and all I had to do was check the two bags I was bringing. Yes, two bags - I'd packed everything I could possibly want into one large suitcase and my new ski outfit, boots and accessories were in the duffel bag Mrs. M had given me. Everything else including skis was already checked. I hugged and kissed Mom goodbye at security and my big adventure began - first we flew about two hours to Burlington, Vermont, and then we drove in a rented minivan south to Killington Peak, with wonderful views of the snow-covered Green Mountains to the left and frozen Lake Champlain on the right. Vermont was absolutely beautiful, and there were so many pretty little towns and quaint farmhouses! Soon we arrived at the resort. Our condo was one unit in a semi-circular group of identical buildings, right near the base of one of the ski runs. It was pretty amazing - three levels with garage, ski storage and a combination bathroom and change room at the bottom; a master bedroom, kitchen, living room and deck with mountain view on the second level; and three more bedrooms and full bath on the upper level. The two bedrooms at the front had small balconies facing the hill. The whole place was beautifully finished: knotty pine floors with area rugs, log railings and a huge stone fireplace. Sort of rustic-feeling but not at all like the old cabin Mark and I had stayed at in Daniel Boone State Park. I was very relieved that Megan and I wouldn't be sharing a bedroom, although I could have handled that situation with Mark (just kidding!). Instead, each of us 'kids' had our own bedroom with our own double bed, all on the upper level. Mark suggested that Megan and I take the two rooms facing the hill, and he laid claim to the rear one before helping me lug my big heavy suitcase up the stairs. I immediately set about unpacking my stuff into the closet and dresser. We'd arrived just as the ski hill was closing for the day, and we were all hungry, so we walked to a nearby restaurant for dinner and talked over the next day's plans. "We'll get you fixed up with your skis first," Mr. M told me, "and then you've got your first lesson starting at nine." He'd actually made all the arrangements in advance, to make sure there'd be only one or two other novices with the instructor. That way I'd learn faster, he said. I'd be taking a lesson each of the next four mornings for three hours, then meeting the McCowans for lunch and practicing on my own (or with one of them) for the afternoon. I'd be able to ski with them for all of the last two days. To say I was apprehensive would be an understatement! I DID mention that sports wasn't my strong suit, didn't I? The next day dawned bright, clear and cold - about ten or fifteen degrees. We shared a quick breakfast and got suited up, then off we trudged to the rental shop where I got fitted for a pair of 150-centimeter Salomon skis. I was a little disappointed that they didn't exactly match my outfit, but they did look very cool - the edges were curved with the tips being much wider than the middle. Mark explained that my skis were the very latest technology, making it a lot easier to learn to do turns. That sounded encouraging, at least. But it didn't do anything to make me less nervous. Marci's boots seemed to fit well enough that I decided I could use them, even though they were still hard to get into. And Mr. M explained that I wouldn't need poles for the first day or so, at least until my instructor said so. The next stop was the ticket office, where Mr. M picked up our lift passes and we got directed to the ski school counter. After filling out some paperwork, we found ourselves back outside. The ski lifts were already running and lines of skiers and snowboarders had already formed, obviously eager to get their first runs of the day in. As for me, the whole idea of careening down an icy mountainside on a pair of slippery boards was almost enough to bring on another panic attack! Mark showed me how to step into my bindings, and in less than a second I was flat on my back looking up at a blue sky and a bunch of amused McCowan faces. "Sorry, Sandy," laughed Mark, "I should've told you to lean forward a bit. Are you okay?" "My pride's all that got hurt," I replied as he helped me back up and brushed the snow off my suit. "Maybe my butt, too." "Well, now that you've got your first fall out of the way," added Mr. M, "it's all downhill from here!" Megan groaned loudly at the bad pun. "Daddy!" she scolded him. "You be nice to Sandy!" "It's all right, Megan," I chuckled. "I'm fine, and I just had my first ski lesson. Don't lean back, right?" Soon we were slipping and sliding in the direction of the ski school meeting spot. At least that's what I was doing - the rest seemed to be very confident on their skis. I would have fallen at few more times if Mark hadn't been holding my hand tightly. It was now a few minutes before nine, and there were at least a dozen adults and twice that many children waiting by the big 'SKI SCHOOL' sign. A few of them were wearing bright red outfits, and I correctly guessed those were the instructors. I'd been told to look for a guy with 'ROB' on his nametag, and I found him speaking with a guy and a girl, both teenagers. Once introductions were made and the McCowans were sure I was in good hands, they said goodbye and good luck. "See you at lunchtime!" Megan called as they departed. I watched them ski off like experts in the direction of one of the chairlifts, wondering if I'd ever be able to stay standing up on my own, let alone ski like them. At least my two fellow students didn't seem any better at it than me - the boy abruptly went down, knocking the girl off balance, and she landed on top of him. Rob had to rescue them both. When everyone was vertical again, he exclaimed, maybe a little too enthusiastically, "Well, boys and girls, are we all set for a supah day?" Rob had a distinctively northeastern accent and I immediately pegged him as a Bostonian. But he also had those chiseled New England features going for him - his face reminded me of one of my favorite actors, Ben Affleck. About the same age and height, too. A little shiver went down my spine when he looked directly into my eyes - waiting for my answer, I supposed. "Uh ... yeah, um ... I guess so," I squeaked, immediately wishing I could've sounded more self-assured. 'Oh my God,' I thought, 'this guy's got me all tongue-tied ... he must think I'm a bimbo.' That was a totally weird, unexpected reaction - the only male who'd ever had that effect on me was my boyfriend! The other two just nodded. By then I'd learned their names - Colin and Cassie - and that they were brother and sister, fraternal twins actually. Like me, they'd never been on skis before. Rob spent a few minutes talking about some basics like balance, stance and the main thing you were trying to accomplish by skiing - which was to get to the bottom of the hill in one piece! In order to do that, you had to learn how to carve turns in the snow, staying in control by using your skis for brakes. He explained that the only skiers who don't do that are downhill racers, a skill he'd be happy to teach us when we graduated from the novice class. Until then, though, we were to follow his instructions to the letter and if we did that, he promised we'd be real live skiers by Thursday. 'Fat chance of that,' I thought. The first hour or so wasn't too bad - I only fell maybe every one or two minutes - but at some point I realized I was getting the hang of the 'balance' part. Of course, we were on almost-flat ground the whole time. Next came a very gentle slope - it still looked nearly level, but it must have been a slope because when you pointed your skis down it, you immediately started sliding. At maybe half walking speed - like, wow! Having mastered that, Rob got us going on a slightly steeper slope, which also had a moving carpeted belt you could stand on to get back up for another try. Then he showed us how to put our skis in a 'vee' pattern when pointing downhill to control our speed, and after that how to do slow turns with the skis still in a vee. At one point during the last hour, I realized I could DO it - meaning, I could actually get down that short mild slope by keeping my skis in a vee, and by shifting my body slightly, make the skis turn right or left. It was positively a revelation! My fellow students seemed to be having trouble mastering the concept of turning, though, and Rob ended up spending the rest of the lesson focusing on them. That was okay with me, because I just kept going down the hill and back up the conveyor belt, over and over again until noon when Rob called a halt to the day's lesson and I made my way over to the lodge to meet up with my hosts. After lunch I was eager to show the McCowans my new skills, so we shuffled over to the base of what they referred to as 'the bunny hill.' There was a single T-bar lift and a much longer and somewhat steeper run that it serviced. "We're not going on THAT?!" I exclaimed. The T-bar looked scary and complicated to use. "No, not yet - we'll just play near the bottom of the hill for a bit." Luckily I hadn't forgotten what I learned in the morning, so I was able to show off my vee-turns without once falling on my face or butt. The McCowans applauded. "You'll be skiing the blacks in no time!" kidded Mr. M. "Go Sandy, go!" yelled Megan. "Mark, I think she's ready for the T-bar," suggested Mrs. M. "You can do it, dear." I wasn't so sure she was right about that, but I let Mark lead me over to the short lineup for the lift. While he was explaining how to get on and off the thing, I watched carefully as other people were handed the upside- down 'T' piece by the attendant and tucked it behind their butts. They were jerked forward as the cord became fully extended, and off they went sliding on their skis up the hill. "It looks easy enough," I commented, feeling a little more confident. When our turn came, Mark stepped into position first and I shuffled over next to him, making sure my skis were pointed forward. The attendant grabbed the next 'T' and brought it into position behind us as we grabbed the upright part, and a second later the big jerk came - and I promptly lost it and crashed off to the side. But before I had a chance to say 'I can't do this!' Mark had helped me back up and we quickly positioned ourselves once again. This time it worked! I found myself sliding along quite happily. A minute later the fun ride ended and we let go of the 'T', moving out of the way of the next riders. But when I looked back down to where the McCowans were standing, the hill looked impossibly long and steep to me. "I can't do this, Mark!" I objected. "Can I just take off my skis and walk down?" "As a matter of fact, no you can't - but thank you for asking," he chuckled. "You CAN do this, Sandy. I saw you doing perfect turns - just do the same thing here." "But what if I lose control? I don't wanna crash at the bottom." "If you start losing control, just sit down. Then you can try again. But maybe you shouldn't look down the hill - just look a few feet in front of you." I shook my head and decided there was no sense arguing. I might as well give it a try. So I stepped back into my 'vee' and began moving ahead slowly, until it was time for a turn, which went pretty well, then another turn ... "Try going a bit faster," my ever-so-helpful boyfriend suggested. I did as he asked and was surprised at how well I was doing, even if I WAS scared spitless. Then, why I don't know, I looked up to see if the McCowans were still there watching me, and I got totally spooked by the sight of the long steep hill in front of me - and down I went in a heap. Mark was there in a second, helping me back up once again. "Can't you just leave me here till spring?" I moaned, feeling sore and very centered out. For the first time I regretted wearing such a showy ski suit, imagining that everyone must be watching the clumsy girl in the bright white outfit with the fluorescent pink slashes. "Not when you're doing so well. C'mon, give it another shot. You can do it!" I was almost getting annoyed with Mark's overly optimistic assessment of my physical abilities. But I just breathed a weary sigh and started off again. This time I made sure I only looked at the ground immediately in front of me, and then Mark helped a lot by skiing a few yards ahead, at the same speed as me. I found that if I kept my eyes on his boots I could easily follow him, doing every turn he did. Before I knew it we had reached the bottom and my hosts were clapping and cheering loudly. "Hooray, Sandy, you DID it!" squealed Megan. "You'll be able to ski with me on the greens - or maybe even the blues!" "Not just yet, dear," Mrs. M corrected her. "She has a bit more learning to do first." But I was thrilled! I'd managed to make it all the way to the bottom in one piece - well, with a bruise on my leg, where my thigh landed on the edge of my ski - but that was a small price for such a big accomplishment. "Go again?" Mark prodded. "Nothing like practice to make perfect ..." "Perfect is not an option," I laughed, paraphrasing the famous line from the Apollo 13 movie that Mark and I had rented that fall. But we did go again, and I fell again, but not so badly that time, and then Mark offered to stay with me for the rest of the afternoon while the others went off to ski elsewhere. "Oh, you don't need to do that," I told him. "I think I can do this on my own now. I don't want you to miss out on your black diamonds, or whatever they're called." He smiled, "Well, why don't I do a couple more runs with you, and if I think you're doing okay I'll let you practice on your own." "Sounds good to me - thanks, hon," I said. I thought he deserved a kiss for being so supportive, and that's what he got. The next two runs went perfectly, with no falls, so Mark gave me a kiss goodbye, saying "See you back at the condo!" As for me, I went straight back to the T-bar line and up I went again. And down. And back up, and down again. That's how it went for the next couple of hours, and to my surprise I found myself enjoying each of my runs - well, at least the ones where I managed to stay vertical the whole way down. As I found my skill level improving, I was able to glance around a bit more instead of just in front of me, and I became aware that I was being observed by some of the other learners - or their fathers. In a way, I think, knowing there were men watching me made me all the more determined to ski well. I kind of knew how hot I looked in my figure-flattering white- and-pink suit, and being a clumsy novice skier didn't complete the image very well in my mind. And more than once, if I went down one of those guys would be there in an instant to help me back up. Of course, they always got my best dazzling smile and a sincere thank you. But with more than an hour to go before the lifts closed, I had to throw in the towel because the muscles in my upper legs and thighs were absolutely burning from the constant effort of keeping my skis in a perfect vee. On my final run I skied right past the conveyor belt and there was my instructor Rob, teaching an afternoon group. He waved me over. "Looking good, Sandy!" he exclaimed with a wide grin, showing off a set of teeth at least as white as the snow. His deep blue eyes sparkled. 'Oh my God,' I thought, 'forget ME! Is this guy good looking or what?' "I decided to get some practice runs in," I explained with my nicest smile, pushing my ski goggles up onto my toque, "just in case you make me do some black runs tomorrow!" His head tilted back and he laughed heartily. "No worries, Sandy - we'll just stick to the blues. That make you feel better?" "MUCH better," I deadpanned. I was having fun talking with this hunky guy! "Well, I've been watching you and the way you're skiing we could probably do just that. Okay, tell me the truth - are you sure you haven't skied before?" "You saw me this morning, Rob," I giggled. "Did I look like I'd skied before?" He shrugged, "Well, maybe not a LOT - but you did strike me as a girl who's pretty athletic. I'm guessing you run, swim, do gymnastics?" I giggled again, thinking of how NON-athletic I was. "I run. Well, not as much as I'd like to ... and I've danced a bit." He nodded. "I thought so. Most of the people I get here don't do anything, and it shows. Active people take to this sport a lot faster." That sounded encouraging. Actually, Rob's comments to me were ALL positive, and I quickly decided he was not only handsome, he was also very personable. Just the type of guy I liked! "I hope you're right," I smiled. "I'm kind of in a hurry to get the hang of it. I've only got, like, five more days." "Oh, you'll be skiing blues like a pro - I promise." That earned him another big smile, which he paid back with interest. "And how can you make a promise like that?" I giggled, enjoying the conversation and not wanting it to end. He DID have students to deal with, after all. "You just leave it to me," Rob answered, a little mysteriously. Then, glancing at his charges, he said, "Uh, sorry Sandy ... I'd better get back to work. See you tomorrow morning?" "I wouldn't miss it," I told him earnestly, flashing my eyelashes and giving him another big parting smile. As I made my way back to the condo, I realized that my heart was pounding. 'Oh my God,' I thought, 'I was SO flirting with that guy.' The realization excited me, because it made me feel so wonderfully girly, but it also made me feel guilty, like I was being unfaithful to Mark. Talk about conflicting emotions! After changing out of my ski outfit I flopped out on the sofa to watch TV until the McCowans returned. That evening, after supper, Mark, Megan and I took advantage of a big outdoor hot tub in the center of our group of condos. What a super treat that was - all the day's aches and pains drained out of me and afterwards I felt more than ready to tackle the next day's ski adventures. ***** At five to nine I was back at the ski school meeting spot, scanning all the red outfits for a glimpse of my instructor. I have to admit, I DID spend a little more time on my face that morning - extra-nice eye makeup and especially my signature hot pink lipstick, except that it was a special kind I'd just bought in the ski shop, with zinc to protect my lips from the bright sun. It did make my lips look extra kissable though - Mark said so! But I also felt a twinge of shame, knowing I hadn't exactly chosen that color for his benefit alone. There was a light tap on my shoulder and there stood a beaming Rob. "Guess I didn't scare you off with that promise, did I?" he said with that great Boston accent of his. "What can I say - I'm a glutton for punishment," I laughed. "My friends always tell me that." "Another promise, then," he said, still smiling broadly. "This won't feel like punishment at all!" "I think I'll hold you to that one," I replied. "I'm afraid I'm a bit of a softie when it comes to physical stuff." Did I really say that? I'd just told Rob I was a wuss, and I'd certainly never thought of myself that way. But he just nodded. "I'll take good care of you, and that's another promise." "You have a lot of promises to keep", I giggled. "Are you sure you can handle all the pressure?" "Easy. You're my only student this morning - I handed Colin and Cassie off to one of my friends who owes me a favor. Shall we get started?" He pointed the way to the T-bar, and soon we were side-by-side, climbing the hill. And was I ever excited to have Rob all to myself! To my surprise, it didn't take me more than one or two runs to get back in the 'groove' and my legs felt just fine. Thank God for hot tubs! Rob gave me a few pointers on the usual stuff like stance (keeping my weight forward, so I always felt pressure on my shins from my boots) and form (making my turns fluid and linked). After about an hour of practice, he announced it was time for me to change it up a bit. And just when I'd gotten the hang of it! "Now we're going to try parallel turns," he said. "If your leg muscles are starting to burn, you'll appreciate this, trust me." I did trust him, too. So I paid careful attention as he demonstrated how, when starting a turn, you could slide your uphill ski into position alongside the downhill one, and angle your knees slightly uphill to keep both edges biting into the snow. The first time I gave it a try, I tripped on my edges and went sprawling face-first downhill. Rob was there in an instant, wrapping his strong arms around my chest and hauling me back up. 'Falling sucks, but it DOES have its advantages,' I thought. "I'm sorry ... I guess I didn't do that exactly right, did I?" "Not really," he laughed. "Here, let me help." Rob positioned himself directly behind me with his skis spread wide and put his hands on my hips. There was a noticeable tingle down my spine! "Okay, we're going to go through it together," he said. "Start moving ... a little faster, it's harder if you're going too slow ... okay, now we'll start our turn ..." I felt his hands twist my lower body in the direction of the turn. "Now slide your left ski down ... that's good, you're doing fine. Let's go straight for a bit ... keep your skis together ... good, now start your next turn ..." I did feel like I was doing fine, too - maybe a little tentative still, but it helped a lot to have him holding me and guiding my body through the turns - although I'm sure I still looked pretty awkward, especially with an expert skier right behind me. "Not bad, Sandy, not bad - now do it again, the other way ..." Next we did another left turn, and that one went much better. Then another right, which felt clumsy, and another left, which was better than the previous one. "You must be right-handed," he observed. What did THAT have to do with anything? "Uh-huh ... I am - how can you tell?" "'Cause your left turns are a lot better. Your right leg's doing most of the work in left turns." Rob was correct - most of my weight was on the downhill ski in my turns, and I definitely had a lot more control of my right leg than my left. Who knew? We did a few more turns together, then, sadly, he told me "Okay Sandy, it's been fun hanging onto you, but I'm going to let you go now and I want you to keep doing your turns exactly like this all the way to the base. Think you can do that for me?" Right then I was thinking I would do anything for that hunky guy. After all, he totally made me feel exactly how I always liked to feel - like a princess, of course! "I'll do it, but only for you," I replied before thinking about what I was saying. Oh my God, what a terrible flirt I was! But Rob seemed to just play along. "You probably say that to all your boyfriends!" he called after me. But I just concentrated on doing what he wanted me to do, as well as I could. I knew he was close behind - probably checking out my figure as much as my form, I imagined - and I really wanted him to appreciate my efforts as much as my body. Soon I was back at the bottom, and NO FALLS! Rob caught up and high-fived me. "Spectaculah!" he exclaimed. "I knew you could do it! You're a natural. Now let's see you do it again, from the top, all by yourself." "You mean you don't wanna hold me anymore?" I pouted. I can't believe what I was saying - and I wasn't even drunk, for heaven's sake. "Don't get me wrong, Sandy, I'd love to. But I promised you'd be skiing blues by the end of your lessons, and I always keep my promises." So up we went again, and down I came again. And that's pretty much how the rest of my morning went. I did get to kid around with Rob while we were on the lift, though. And to my surprise I found myself developing a huge crush on him! My afternoon instructor, Mark, was very pleased when he saw how much I'd progressed. And I really had! I could now do passable parallel turns all the way down the hill without stopping, or even falling. Mark suggested we try for something steeper and longer, meaning I'd have to go on a chairlift. But I said no, I wasn't ready for that yet - I'd just hang out on the bunny hill and work on polishing my style. He just shrugged and said no problem, gave me a quick kiss, and waved goodbye. As I watched him ski away in the direction of a chairlift, I felt a huge pang of guilt - because the reason I didn't want to go with him was that if I stayed on the bunny hill, I might get to see Rob again. Not only that, when I was ready to use the chairlift, I wanted Rob to be the one to teach me how. As it turned out, though, I never saw Rob again that day. But my 'crush' was waiting for me the next morning at nine in the usual place. "Well, Sandra dahling," he began, "what would you like to do with me today? You've got me all to yourself again." I could think of a few things I'd consider doing with him, but I'd need a few other things taken care of by a doctor first. "Um ... why don't we go up the T-bar again and I'll show you where I'm at?" He readily agreed and when we finished the run I got some great praise for my skill level. I absolutely loved it when he gave me compliments. "You're a fast learner, Sandy. But you also work hard to get it right. I appreciate that in a girl." "And you're a wonderful teacher," I responded with yet another big, wide pink-lipped smile. "Thanks for being so patient with me." "Didn't know I was," he laughed. "Well, beautiful, what d'you say we try something a bit more challenging? Like a green run?" "If you think I'm ready ..." "You are! Have you been on a chairlift before?" I shook my head, hoping Rob wouldn't think less of me for it. "Okay then, let's head for the chair and we'll get you going on some REAL slopes." In the lift line, Rob gave me a few instructions on getting onto the chairlift without falling off, and in no time at all we were sailing up the mountain, about twenty or thirty feet off the ground with our skis dangling in thin air. It was a bit scary, but so much fun! Then Rob explained the proper way to get off at the top to avoid doing a face-plant, and he described the run he was about to take me on, which was one of the easiest of the novice, or green runs. "Remember your promise," I said nervously. "It's not supposed to feel like punishment." "And it won't," he laughed. You'll have a great time on this run, and that's ANOTHER promise." "We'll see." Soon the chair was approaching the upper lift station, and Rob took one of my hands while I placed the other on the front of the seat as I'd been instructed. When my skis touched the snow I used my hand to steady myself as I rose off the seat, then leaned forward and presto! We were off the chair and sliding to a stop a few yards away, Rob right at my side. "Not bad for a first-timer," he grinned. But I certainly wasn't grinning. I was staring in abject fear at the view down the mountain. From where we were standing it looked nearly vertical. The lodge buildings and condos far below seemed impossibly tiny. My God, how was I supposed to get down that mountain without killing myself? Sensing my fear, Rob explained that we weren't going straight down - instead, our green run zig-zagged down the face of the mountain, kind of like skiers carving turns. "Just follow me," he said in his usual confident, cheery manner. So off we went, thankfully very slowly since the slope was a lot steeper than what I was used to. Rob made sure he never got too far ahead of me, which I really appreciated. Soon we were skiing on a nice wide, smooth run cutting across the mountain, which I knew was the right one because it had signs with green circles along it. Soon we came to a big turn, and the run cut back across the mountain in the other direction. My confidence grew as we went, and I found myself skiing a little faster. Rob matched my speed, and in a few minutes we were back at the base of the chairlift again. I was ecstatic! "How did that feel, little lady?" he asked with one of his big smiles, as if he couldn't tell by the look of joy on my face. "Incredible!" I answered. "I never thought I could do that in a million years. Can we go again?" He nodded, "That's my girl - I like your attitude. Let's go!" One thing that was so cool about being with an instructor was how we got front-of-the line treatment, no matter how long the lift line was. In no time at all we were back in the air. I pushed my goggles up onto my toque so Rob could see my whole face while we talked. He did the same, and I could tell by his expression that he appreciated my extra makeup efforts. "You're very attractive, you know." Those words confirmed it! "And so are you." He just laughed and changed the subject. "Sandy, I can't get over how fast you're learning . Are you SURE you're not some kind of athlete?" "I wish," I giggled, "but my older brother got all the athletic genes in our family. I'm really kind of a klutz when it comes to sports." "Could've fooled me. How old did you say you were?" "I didn't. You'll just have to guess." "Oh, I know - ladies never tell their age, right? Well, I'm going to go out on a limb and say, maybe twenty? No, I think you're twenty-one!" 'Wow,' I thought, 'people who don't know me always think I'm older. Is it because I'm a guy?' I just gave him a big innocent smile and replied, "You were right the first time, Rob - ladies don't tell their age." I was having SUCH fun flirting with this man, and if he thought I was twenty-one, so much the better! "Okay, have it your way, sweetheart. But that's what I think, and I'm usually right." I found myself really attracted to Rob's self-confidence. And I also found myself craving his attention and his compliments, so I looked for excuses to show off more of my feminine self, like taking my gloves off on the lift to arrange my hair so he could see my perfect pink nails. "Love your nails," he said on cue. We did a few more runs off the same chairlift, and with each one I felt my skill level and confidence improving. Rob was SO attentive, always giving me pointers and drilling me on proper stance and footwork, until he felt that I was developing the correct habits. Then he took me on a different chairlift, one that accessed longer runs on another part of the mountain. Each time we rode the chair we chatted away like old friends. But I avoided telling him much about myself, or my hosts, preferring to let him talk about himself, his background, and how he came to be a ski instructor at Killington. And I was right - he WAS from the Boston area! I must admit, Rob was incredibly funny - almost everything he said made me giggle or laugh. And he would look into my eyes with those amazing blue eyes of his, and I'd just feel like melting in spite of the icy-cold weather. But all too soon my lesson was over for the day. We waved goodbye to each other, and I resisted the urge to go over and give him a hug, not just for what he'd done for me, but mostly because I just wanted to hold that hunky man, and have him hold me! Instead I reluctantly shuffled back to the lodge to meet the McCowans for lunch. Afterwards I skied a couple of runs with the whole family, and got tons of praise and congrats for my new skill level, then I spent the rest of the afternoon with Mark's mom on the greens. She took me on a few more runs I hadn't been on yet, and we got to chit-chat a lot while we were riding the chairlifts. "I love that suit on you, dear," she told me at one point. "I'm so glad you were able to use it. You have such a perfect figure - I'm very jealous." "You're jealous of me, Ma'am?" I replied. "But you're so incredibly beautiful ..." I thought it was insanely ironic that a real, genuine woman could be envious of me - especially since I was so envious of HER situation. Mrs. M laughed, "That's so nice of you to say that, Sandra ... but you're a very pretty girl, from head to toe. And more importantly, you're beautiful inside too. Matthew and I are so happy that you're dating Mark." "He's a wonderful guy, Mrs. McCowan. I consider myself very lucky to have him." "And he's lucky to have you, dear. I hope everything works out for the two of you." "I do too, Ma'am." ***** That night I couldn't sleep for the longest time. My impossible situation was weighing especially heavily on me. Mark's mom had left no doubt that she, and Mr. McCowan, wanted me to marry their son and give them grandchildren. And of course I wanted that too, but knew on every level that it could never happen. And then there was the whole issue of the McCowans finding out about the real me, which they most certainly would, sooner or later, and my whole world would come crashing down. At some point in the wee hours my mind drifted into thoughts of Rob, maybe as an escape from my other nagging concerns, and if that was the case it worked all too well. I found myself envisioning Rob as my lover, his lips kissing mine passionately and his hands caressing my smooth naked body. Before I knew it I had a full erection, something that seemed to happen a lot less often since I'd been on my hormone regimen. Then I began to masturbate, imagining what it would be like to have him penetrating my make-believe vagina with his great big penis and making a real woman out of me ... and suddenly I froze. There was a noise, like a door handle clicking, then the sound of footsteps on carpet, and seconds later a naked man was climbing into bed beside me. I could tell immediately that his penis was in the same condition as mine, if not harder! "Mark!" I whispered. "What are you doing?" "I'm joining you, what does it look like?" he whispered back. His hands were already all over me, and I turned quickly onto my stomach so he wouldn't discover my erection. "What's wrong?" he asked in response. "What's wrong is we're in major trouble if your mom and dad hear us." "So they won't. We can do this without making a sound." "Do what?" "Make love, of course. Is something wrong?" he asked again. "Just that I don't think we should. It's not right, doing it right under their noses." "But I really need you. I've barely had you to myself once since we got here." "Such a hard-done-by guy you are. Okay, you poor man, how would you like it?" "You mean I get to choose?" "Yes, as long as you promise to go back to your own room afterwards. Deal?" "It's a deal," he whispered as he slid a hand under my nightie and cupped one of my breasts, kissing my neck and face. Well, I DID say he could choose, didn't I? So I probably shouldn't have been upset that he picked the rear-entry option, my least favorite. When we did it that way, we were both on our sides, spooning, and he would sometimes pump my penis in sync with his thrusts, but I could never get aroused enough to come, even when I took over myself. Except for this time - I pushed his hand away and mine took its place as I fantasized that it was Rob, not Mark, who was making love to me and I got SO incredibly excited, coming at the same instant as he did, and making a total mess of the inside of my nightie, kind of like the mess he made inside me. But wow, was that a powerful orgasm or what! Mark seemed to be thrilled for me, and he whispered "I love you" over and over again. I just kept imagining it was Rob who was telling me those words. Mark kept his end of the deal, leaving a few minutes later. As for me, I crept silently to the bathroom with a fresh nightie and sat on the toilet until I got all of Mark's cum expelled and my tummy and penis wiped clean. Then I washed out the soiled garment and hung it to dry. Back in bed, I continued thinking of Rob until fatigue took over and I fell fast asleep. ***** The next morning my first stop was the rental shop, where I swapped my 150- cm skis for 160's and picked up a pair of poles, as Rob had instructed me the day before. He'd said with my skill level I'd have better control on longer skis, and I was ready to learn to use poles. By then I trusted whatever he said! I arrived at the meeting spot five or ten minutes early, which gave me a chance to reflect a little. It was my last day of ski lessons, but it was also the last day of 1998. I thought of everything that had happened to me that crazy watershed year - from my breakup with Julia, to taking dance classes with Kath, to singing and acting in Fiddler and coming out to my friends as a cross-dresser ... and then to the amazing love affair with Mark and my decision to spend the rest of my life as a woman. And here I was on New Year's eve, a hot chick about to spend the whole morning skiing with a VERY hunky ski instructor. I was sure a very different Alexander Johnson that December thirty-first, compared with the one I'd been only a year earlier! My daydreaming was interrupted by a familiar voice and I turned to see Rob's smiling face. "Well, Sunshine," he greeted me, "this is it! It's our big blue day. Are you all set?" "I hope so," I replied, giving him one of my own best smiles. "You're going to take good care of me - promise?" "Sure. Have I broken any yet?" "You mean bones or promises?" "Either." "No ... I suppose not. But now would NOT be a good time to start." He laughed and said, "Trust me - you'll think I'm your best friend by lunchtime." "We'll see," I giggled. I could imagine him as much more than that, already. "But can we do at least one or two green runs first? Like, before you make me ski off cliffs?" "We can do that," he chuckled. "Let's head for that lift over there." We slid over, slightly downhill, to a quad high-speed chair, and joined two other skiers. I just couldn't keep my mouth shut. "Rob?" "Yes, Sandy?" "If I forget to say it later, I had a really good time with you. You're a super guy ... uh, not bad looking either. And a pretty good teacher, if I may say so." He looked straight at me. "Thanks. You're a very beautiful girl ... and a pretty good student, too. If you ever want some advanced lessons, I hope you'll look me up." I could imagine a few other 'advanced' things I'd happily look him up for, but they'd have nothing to do with skiing. After two warm-up runs on the easier slopes to get me used to the longer skis, it was time to graduate to the intermediate, or 'blue' runs. We took one of the chairs I'd been on already and positioned ourselves at the top of a much steeper slope than I was used to. There were signs with blue squares placed along the run. But by then I was a lot more confident in my ability to control my speed with my turns, no matter how steep it was - well, within limits. Rob gave me a few more pointers and then we set off. This run started steeply but got less so in a few places, which gave me a chance to come to a stop once in a while. Rob was observing me from above as we descended, and every time I stopped and he caught up, he came to a quick sliding halt and his skis sprayed me all over with snow! "Rob, are you being mean to me?" I pouted. "After I've been SO nice to you?" "Aww, I'm sorry sweetheart - if you like, I'll show you how to return the favor." "Sure - I WOULD like that!" So Rob taught me how to stop on a dime, by putting my skis right together and starting a turn, then sliding sideways to a hard stop. I caught on quickly, and soon I was getting him back as often as I could! Well, there was that ONE time when I lost an edge and slid right into his skis, knocking him off balance and right on top of me! We ended up lying face-to- face in the snow, with our goggles all skewed. "Rob, I'm so sorry ..." I began to say as I pushed my goggles the rest of the way off. "No harm done," he said. "I was hoping I'd get another chance to look into those gorgeous eyes of yours." "Oh - you like them?" I asked in my best innocent voice, while looking into his own gorgeous eyes. "I LOVE them," he smiled. "Along with everything else about you ..." Neither of us said anything more for a few seconds, because you can't talk when your lips are pressed hard to someone else's. For me, it was one of those rare kisses I'll always remember. By the time it happened, I had a such a massive crush on that guy that the kiss made a million stars explode in my head and a zillion tingles run up and down my spine! But it only lasted a few seconds, and it wasn't repeated. How VERY disappointing! Although, if we'd been spotted kissing by other ski staff, or much worse, by a member of the McCowan family, there would have been major hell to pay, and that's putting it mildly. So we got up, dusted ourselves off, and continued with the 'official' part of my ski lessons. But not before I used a Kleenex to wipe my pink lipstick from Rob's mouth. After two or three trips down Rob's favorite blue run, we tried a few others and I must tell you, skiing was definitely becoming pure joy for me. It reminded me of my modern dance classes, where I could get into a 'zone' of fluid, artistic motion. Rob drilled me over and over on linking and carving my turns, and the proper use of my poles. I began to feel almost like an expert - or at least that I could feel like I really belonged on a proper ski hill, and not just on the bunny slopes. Rob asked me a lot of questions about myself while we were riding the chairs that morning, but I tried to keep the info I gave him pretty general, especially when it came to 'the folks' that I was there at Killington with. I realized that he never asked me if I had a boyfriend, and also that he probably assumed I was there with family. In retrospect I should have been a lot more upfront with him, but at the time I was just a young girl having fun with a handsome guy, and what harm could there be in stringing him along a little? Twelve noon came way too fast, and Rob led me down one last time. I was extremely disappointed that I wouldn't get to see him again (except if I bumped into him on the hill, which I fervently hoped would happen), but I was absolutely euphoric about being able to ski so well, and after only four days! So much so that as we were parking our skis and poles in the racks in front of the lodge, I spontaneously hugged and kissed him. "What was THAT for?" he laughed, obviously pleased with what I'd just done. "For being so nice to me, and for keeping all your promises." "You mean ... you didn't mind what I did when we fell down?" "That kiss? I thought it was very nice, and very sweet ... and I'm just paying you back, okay?" He nodded, knowingly. "So, miss Sandy Johnson ... will I get to see you again?" I was afraid he'd ask that. "Uh, I dunno - I'm going out with the folks tonight for New Years Eve, and I'll be out on the hill for another couple of days. How 'bout you?" "I'll be around. Maybe we can get together sometime." I didn't know WHAT to say to that. "Maybe ... we'll see." I can't believe I answered that way - he could easily have interpreted it as I was interested in going out with him. But he just nodded again, and said, "Okay, beautiful - we'll see you around." I was in a bit of a daze as I made my way into the lodge. Rob had totally mesmerized me, kind of like Mark did seven or eight months earlier. I was such a sucker for a nice, kind, good-looking guy. "Was that fun?" a voice asked as I entered the cafeteria. It was a familiar voice, and it immediately snapped me out of my daze. "Mark! Oh, hi ... how are you? What are you doing here?" Dumb questions, I know. "Waiting for you, of course. But I got a lot more than I bargained for - how come you were hugging and kissing your instructor?" "Doing what? Oh ... oh, I was just thanking him for, uh, you know - helping me learn to ski." "He must have done an amazing job." Mark's tone was quite accusatory, and it made me go on the defensive. "As a matter of fact, he did. You should SEE how well I can ski now, Mark." "Sure, whatever you say. I just don't think you should be going around kissing other guys, no matter what they've done for you. You don't know how they're going to react." Now I was getting my back up. "Mark, I can look after myself, if that's what you mean. And I don't need you to tell me what I can and can't do." I know - that was a terrible thing to say to my wonderful boyfriend. My excuse was those damn hormones, which, of course, Mark still had no clue about. "Fine, whatever," he answered with a definite note of anger and frustration in his voice. We found his family saving seats for us, and his mom and dad eagerly inquired about how my lessons had gone. Before I could answer, Mark said, "She had the world's best instructor, so she should be skiing like a pro now. Right, Sandy?" "He WAS a good instructor ..." Just then, it dawned on me that Mark was jealous! And in my chemically-altered head space, that made me feel perversely happy. There was not one, but TWO hunky guys who wanted me. Except, of course, one of them thought I was a real genetic female, and the other knew me as a male just like him - albeit one who looked and sounded just like a female. But that didn't matter - all I cared about at that moment was the wonderful, empowering feeling that being a beautiful, sexy girl gave me. "Can you ski with me after lunch, Sandy?" chirped Megan, interrupting my thought stream. "I wanna show you my favorite blue run." "Uh, sure - that'd be great," I replied, thankful I'd get to avoid dealing with Mark and his sarcastic comments, at least until later when, hopefully, he'd have cooled off. I have to say, that lunch seemed a bit tense, and I'm sure Mark's parents could sense it too. So I excused myself early and off I went with Megan to attack the slopes. Now THAT was more like fun. We spent the next hour going up and down and having a total blast together. 'Her' run had two detours where you went through some trees to a different slope, and it even had a small jump, where she showed me how to 'get some air.' Then we bumped into Mrs. McCowan and skied with her for the rest of the day, just us three girls. I was thinking of looking out for Rob, but decided that sticking with my hosts was the safest plan. ***** Later that evening, we all got dressed up and headed out to a nice restaurant for a New Years Eve dinner. Naturally I wore the beautiful lamb's wool sweater and stirrup pants set they'd given me for Christmas, along with a pair of short black leather boots I'd brought, and I went with the gel inserts in my bra for more 'effect'. I also wore perfume and did my makeup with lots of eye shadow, mascara and thicker liner, and a bright red lipstick for a more dramatic evening look, and used a matching red hair band to keep my bob looking stylish. When I checked out the finished product in the full-length mirror, especially how beautifully the pants hugged my rounded butt and hips, I had to admit that you didn't always need a skirt or dress to look totally gorgeous and feminine. Mrs. M confirmed it when she told me I looked every inch the ski queen, and even Mark was generous with his compliments. The restaurant was in a 'village' of shops, bars and eateries, and the area was very busy with people coming to eat and drink, or just leaving after their apr?s-ski get-togethers. We were seated promptly and in no time everyone was chatting about how their ski week was going, like who had the most spectacular fall (Mark got first prize for that one, on a double-black run with huge moguls that sounded way too scary), which runs were the most fun, and who was their favorite liftie (the staff person who assists you with the chairlift). I suggested a guy who was always telling the worst groaner jokes and everyone knew exactly who I was talking about! About midway through dinner I excused myself to go to the ladies' room, and on the way there, wouldn't you know it, I heard a male voice call out "SANDY!" It was Rob, of course, and when I reluctantly (but excitedly) went over to his table he gave me a big hug, then introduced me to his friends, who were all good-looking guys about his age. They all had tall beer glasses and were sharing a huge platter of nachos. I felt like their eyes were undressing me on the spot! "This is my favorite student I was telling you about," he bragged to them, while holding his arm tightly around my waist and looking into my eyes. I could tell he liked my perfume. "She was spec-taculah!" "But how was she at learning to ski?" one of them quipped, and the others laughed out loud. Rob didn't miss a beat. "Spectaculah at that too!" And he gave my waist a little squeeze. "Don't mind these fellas, Sandy - they're just jealous." "Wish I could have a favorite student too," another guy chipped in, as if to confirm what Rob had just said. "Me too," added another, loudly. "Can you join us?" Rob asked, and without waiting for my answer his friends began shuffling the chairs to make a space for me. "Oh, I'm sorry, I can't - I'm with my folks ... I was just, uh, on the way to the restroom ..." Rob's handsome face looked genuinely pained. "Why don't I come over to your table and ask if it's okay?" "No ... please don't. I, uh, promised I'd spend the evening with them. Thanks anyway." With that awkward answer I looked back into his eyes and said "I'm sorry, Rob ... I'll maybe see you around ..." Then I waved a quick goodbye to his friends and hurried off to the restroom, where I immediately leaned on the counter, hyperventilating as I stared at my reflection in the mirror, wondering what insanity I'd gotten myself into. "Are you okay?" asked a twenty-something girl who entered a few seconds after me. "You look so pale." The girl was attractive and I couldn't help but notice (and be jealous of) her VERY prominent cleavage. Her voice had a very concerned tone, and she placed a manicured hand on my shoulder. "I, uh ... I think I'm all right. Thanks ..." "I saw you talking to Rob Hewitt out there - did you, like, have a fight with him or something?" Now THAT took me aback - this girl obviously knew Rob, or at least his last name, which put her further ahead than me. "Oh, no - we weren't fighting. He was my instructor and I, uh ... well, we ..." "Don't tell me - you went out with him, right? Did you, like, sleep with him too?" 'Oh my God,' I thought - 'why don't you just come right out and say what you're thinking?' "Of course not!" I replied indignantly. "Why would you think that?" A crooked smile replaced the girl's concerned look. "Only 'cause Rob's a total hunk and you're, like, a total babe? Just his type ... oh, I'm sorry - I'm Katie." She offered me her hand and I lightly shook it, telling her my name in return. "Katie, are you, um ..." "His girlfriend?" she laughed, shaking her head. "No, no ... well, I thought I was once, but like, that was before ... but hey, that's ancient history, right? Uh ... are you sure you didn't go out with him?" "I'm sure. We did kiss a couple of times, but nothing more than that ..." She smiled and nodded. "That's how it starts, doesn't it? So if you're so friendly, like, what were you arguing about out there?" 'This is so surreal,' I thought. Here I was, a seventeen-year-old guy dressed as a twenty-something girl, in the ladies' room talking to another twenty-something girl, who was obviously jealous of me, about the object of her jealousy - a hunky man who apparently had the hots for ME, and not HER. "Uh, you're going to think this is weird ... I'm here with my boyfriend and his family, but Rob doesn't exactly know that ..." "Oh, I get it - you're stringing HIM along. Like, that's RICH. So like, how does your boyfriend feel about it?" She had an amused look on her face. I felt awful. "Not too good, I guess. Like, I was just telling Rob I couldn't see him, that's all. I shouldn't have got involved in the first place, should I?" Now I was starting to say 'like,' like Katie. She giggled. "No, but I don't blame you one bit. Like, Rob's a total hunk, isn't he? He's such a nice guy, and he's SO irresistible." "Especially with those blue eyes of his," I ventured. "OH MY GOD, those EYES," she repeated. "Like, you can just get so LOST in them." She had a dreamy look on her face, which only confirmed that she was still nuts about Rob. "Katie, I'm sorry ... I didn't mean to make you feel bad." "Get REAL - like, you didn't even know I EXISTED. And I'm over him, I really am." 'Sure you are,' I thought as I excused myself to head into one of the stalls. "Um ... I really have to go ... it was so great to meet you," I said as sincerely as I could. But after I closed the door she just kept talking. "Sandy?" 'This is weird,' I though as I pulled down my pants and panties and fiddled with the gaff. "Yes?" "I just didn't want you to get hurt, that's all." "Uh ... did YOU get hurt, Katie?" "Yeah ... but it was my own fault. Like, I'm such a pushover for guys like him. I thought if I gave him what he wanted, he'd, like, stay with me ..." "You mean, like ..." "Yeah, but you know? Sex with Rob was SO GOOD. He's like, the BEST. He always took his time, and made sure I came, like, two or three times ... at least." This was getting to be way too much information, I thought, but then I remembered my talk with Dr. Westerman - the one where I told him how much I loved the feeling of being trusted and accepted as an equal by other girls. This intimate conversation on both sides of a toilet stall door was such a great example of how easily real girls confide in each other! Just then I heard the restroom door close, and another patron stepped into the stall next to mine. "Guess I should be going, Sandy," Katie said, a little sadly I thought. "See you around, I hope." "I hope so too," I replied. "Thanks so much for talking with me." "Same." Then I heard the door close and I figured she was gone. You know how you can do your best thinking on the toilet? Well, that's me all right - and while I was sitting there I pondered that fascinating exchange between me and Katie. I could tell she was genuinely hurt by the way her brief but apparently satisfying relationship with Rob had broken down, but even though he was obviously a total ladies' man, at the same time she'd have him back in an instant if she could. A ladies' man, I thought. Yeah, Rob was a ladies' man all right. But just like Katie, I was attracted to him in spite of knowing that. And for a moment I could almost understand how easy it could be for a woman to stray from a committed relationship. But then, it became crystal clear that I was risking ending up in the same situation as Katie, or worse. I was playing with fire by paying attention to any guy other than Mark. And it wouldn't be Rob who'd hurt me, I'd hurt myself because of my foolish obsession with him. And Mark would get hurt too. So I resolved to give 'mister irresistible blue eyes' a wide berth for the remainder of my ski vacation. The trouble was, the damage was already done. ***** The first two days of 1999, and my last two days at Killington, were so incredibly amazing. I skied all over the resort, sometimes with Mrs. M but more often with Megan, and even with Mark and his dad, as long as they didn't make me ski the blacks. I'm sure I did every green and blue run on that mountain. Yes, I did see Rob a couple more times - but he was with students on a chairlift, yelling and waving to me as I passed by underneath, and thankfully not on the slope where I'd have to deal with him face-to-face. I also bumped into my new friend Katie, whom I'd correctly guessed was also an instructor. She had a whole gaggle of small children with her on one of the green runs. "Oh, I LOVE your outfit," she characteristically gushed when she recognized me. "Like, you're SO beautiful, Sandy." I had the distinct impression that she was envious not only of Rob's interest in me, but also my clothes, my looks and pretty much everything else about me. If she only knew! 'What a crazy life I have,' I thought more than once. But down deep I just soaked it all up as one huge compliment, and it only served to reinforce my massive obsession with putting forward my best female appearance. ***** By our last day at Killington, I'd decided that skiing was my all-time favorite activity. Well, I mean physical activity. Performing on stage was still my all-time fave thing to do. But I liked skiing even better than running, hiking, or even dancing. After all, it had elements of all three in it - and there was no better feeling than gliding swiftly and gracefully down a wide, groomed slope, carving perfect turns with my body, just like a perfectly choreographed dance routine. And I just knew I looked 'spectaculah' (as Rob pronounced it) in my form-fitting white-and-pink ski suit. And no rain, bugs, dirt or sweat like I had to put up with on hikes. It just couldn't get any better! Well, maybe it could. The only downer was Mark. Ever since New Year's Eve he'd been a lot quieter than normal, and of course I knew why - he was still sulking about my encounters with Rob. I'm sure he saw me go over to Rob's table that night, though he hadn't said anything about it afterwards. Mark and I did manage to spend part of the last afternoon skiing together, just the two of us. It was a little strained at first, because he wasn't being very talkative. But then he unexpectedly opened up as we began our third or fourth trip up the chairlift. "I've been meaning to tell you how nice you look ... that suit's amazing on you." "Thanks ... as good as it was on Marci?" "A lot better," he chuckled, looking straight at me. "You know, I can barely remember how you looked when I first met you." "Good thing," I replied, not sure where this conversation was headed. "I don't plan to ever look like that again." His face registered surprise. "Really? Why not?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Mark, are you serious? How could I ever go back to being a guy? That part of my life's over. Remember, I'm supposed to be your GIRL-friend now? NOT your boyfriend." He shrugged, "Yeah, I know ... and my folks can't ever find out - I get that too ... but I don't mind at all if you ever feel the need to, you know - wear pants again ..." I was flabbergasted. "I already wear pants to school - girls' pants. Mark, I'm never going to wear guys' clothes ever again - I don't WANT to. And I won't need to either, 'cause I wanna get this thing taken off as soon as I can." I was pointing at you-know-where. Now it was Mark's turn to be flabbergasted. "WHY?" he asked with a pained expression. "I LIKE it. It's part of YOU." "Well I DON'T like it. It keeps reminding me that I'm not who I wanna be. And it's always in the way, and it's uncomfortable ..." "Well I'm totally okay with it, in case you were wondering. And I like you exactly the way you are right now. I hope you never change." 'Typical man,' I thought. Funny how guys never want their women to change from the way they were when they met. Except I thought MY change would be welcomed. So I decided what needed to change right then was the subject. "Okay, I'll think about what you said," I fibbed. "I just really like being a girl now, that's all." "I never doubted that for a minute," Mark stated. "But if you're gonna keep playing girl, you need to be more careful - there's a lot of guys out there who'd go after you in a flash. You can't lead them on - like you did with your instructor." "Who says I led him on?" I replied angrily, knowing that's exactly what happened. "Oh, come on, Sandy - you must know how guys are ... you're a guy yourself, aren't you?" That comment kind of hurt, if only because I wanted so badly for Mark to think of me as a girl. But I didn't feel like attacking him over it. "Yeah - I know what you mean, but ..." "I'm sorry - I shouldn't have put it that way. It just made me question how committed you are to our relationship, that's all." "Mark, I AM committed to you." "I hope so." But after that conversation I just couldn't bring myself to tell him how he meant everything to me, and how little Rob meant - I know that down deep I was actually enjoying the awesome feeling of girl-power I got from having a jealous boyfriend. And I certainly remembered how awful I felt when I saw Mark with his old classmate, Pamela, at the grad banquet. But what I'd forgotten was how Mark had reassured me that he was interested in me and no one else. Maybe if I'd done the same for him while we were still in Vermont, things would have turned out very differently. To be continued ....