How I Became The Baddest Girl In Clarksville Part 4 The Eye Of The Tiger free porn video

How I became the Baddest Girl in Clarksville Part 4 Eye of the Tiger -Periods, Tigers, and Spies. Oh My ! - It was still dark when I woke with a bladder filled to near bursting. My stomach flip-flopped in time to the dull throb in my head. As I slipped from under the covers, waves of dizziness sweep over me. Somehow I managed to navigate my way through the dark, only switching on the light when I reached the bathroom. I frowned. Tyler left the toilet seat up again. In my other life it wouldn't have mattered but now it was a mocking reminder of how I was changed, limited in ways Tyler wasn't. I lowered the seat and shucked down my panties, flicking my nightshirt out of the way as I sat. It took what seemed like forever to empty my bladder. I passed the time staring at the floor tiles, listening to the hiss of urine. Then I noticed the dark discharge in the crotch of my panties. Still seated, I slipped off my underwear. Pinching them between my thumb and finger, I held them so I could get a closer look at the stain. It was brownish and damp. Tossing the soiled panties aside, I snatched a wad of toilet paper and wiped. I groaned when I saw the result. There was a smear of red on the white tissue. Suddenly, my stomach heaved again, forcing me to brace myself to keep from toppling off the toilet. After the nausea passed, I stumbled out of the bathroom into the hall. When I reached my parents room I paused. I'd never trespassed into the sanctity of their bedroom at night but I had to do this. I opened the door and slipped in. Inside the room, I studied my parents sleeping forms, dark mounds under the covers. They lay facing away from each other as if sometime during the night, the tie that bound them dissolved so they'd drifted in separate directions on the ocean of dreams. Mom lay closest to the door. I inched toward her and then gently shook her arm. "Mom, wake up." She shifted slightly then lay still. "Maahhhoommm wake up," I repeated giving her arm a good shake. Her eyes flicked open sleepily, then I watched recognition seep in. "Alex? What now?! It's the middle of the night!" "I need a tampon or something. I think I started my period." "Are you sure?" she asked, throwing the covers back swinging her legs off the bed. "I'm pretty sure. There's this brownish mess in my panties and there was blood on the toilet paper after I peed." Mom got to her feet. "Meet me in the hall bathroom. I need to find my housecoat and slippers. I don't want to wake your father." "Too late." Dad said, from under the covers. "What's going on?" "Just girl stuff, Steve," said Mom. "Go back to sleep." Pale gray light leaked through the partially open blinds heralding the soon to be sunrise, when I returned to my room. I was now fitted with one of Mom's bulky pads between my legs. I stashed several more of the offensive things in my desk drawer, out of sight. In the weeks since my change, I'd grown accustomed to the nothingness between my legs. The pad felt intrusive. Plus, I hated the way it bulged in my panties. Mom promised to pick up some ultra-thins for me on her way home from work. Until then, I'd have to make do with hers. She also suggested I skip school, for which I was grateful. Though I'd declared myself a girl to my family, the most badass girl ever, right now I didn't feel badass at all, just weak and scared. I still struggled with the same old issues as before. I argued with everybody, storming out of the room at the least offence. I was stuck in a quagmire of self-pity; sinking deeper with each passing day. Although it was still early, I rummaged around in my room for something to do, too nervous to go back to bed. My bag of comics lay in the corner where I'd tossed it the night of my big blowout, over a week ago. I'd given them to Tyler. When he gave them back, I pitched them into the pile with the other things that belonged to John. I planned on dumping it all into the trash and redoing my room pink. I thought that would spite my Dad for taking Tyler fishing but not me. But the next morning the anger had soured to melancholy. I didn't paint my room pink or throw anything away. I spent the day crying, alone in the bathroom. More than anything, I wanted my life to be like before. Tyler and Dad were spending more and more time together. Mom offered to do things with me but I wasn't interested. I wanted to be with the boys. That's were I belonged. A few days after the fishing trip, I happened to glance out the back door. Dad and Tyler were tossing a baseball, trying to burn through each other's glove by throwing hard as they could. Occasionally, the ball struck with an audible slap. Then, the injured party pulled off their glove, flapped their hand and grimaced, while the other grinned in triumph. I beamed with delight. Here was my chance to do something with my dad. My parents never threw anything away. It didn't take me long to find my old baseball glove packed away in a box, in the garage. It swallowed my hand to my forearm when I slipped it on, but I didn't care. As I raced out the back door I saw the ball rolling toward me with Tyler chasing behind. I snatched it up with my ungloved hand before Tyler reached it. "Give it here," He demanded. "No! I want to play too!" I danced away from my brother. " Here Dad, catch." I called, tossing the ball to him. The throw was awkward, and Tyler made it worse by trying to block it. It landed several feet short of where my father stood. "Throw it back to me." I said, suppressing a giggle. I felt elated, almost light headed and all over a simple game of catch. Dad tossed it back and I caught it two handed. "You catch like a girl," Tyler sneered. "And you throw like one too." I wanted to tell him to fuck off, to kiss my ass, that I was a god- dammed girl. Instead I drew back my arm and flung the ball at him as hard as I could. "Catch this", I yelled. It was another pathetic throw and he caught it easily, plucking it neatly out of the air with his glove. He held it for a moment, gazing where it nestled in the worn leather. Then without warning, he hurled the ball back at me. I barely got my glove up in time to avoid being struck in the face. The impact numbed my hand from my palm to the tips of my fingers. Then came the pain. The ball tumbled from my glove and I sank to the ground. My hand throbbed, every nerve on fire. I realized I was crying. From somewhere far away, I heard Dad scolding Tyler. Then Dad's arm was around me, guiding me into the house and to Mom. After Mom placed an ice pack on my palm, I took my injury to my room. Tyler's besting me, hurt more than my swollen hand. All I'd managed to prove was I was no match for him or any boy. Boys were bigger, stronger and had dicks. My place was watching from the bleachers with the girls. Tyler didn't apologized. I didn't expect him to. But things between us were different. We scarcely spoke in the mornings. Mostly we stood apart, waiting for bus to take us to school. He did his thing and I did mine and never the twain should meet. The memories slowed to a trickle then faded. I was back in my room staring at the clutter in the corner. There was a time when the pile of comics, posters, and super hero models had a place in my life, but not anymore. It was time for them to go. I'd put the models and posters in the trash and auction off the comics online. I lugged the bag over to my desk and then rummaged around until I found a notebook with a few blank pages. Set up for business, I pulled out the first three comics. I jotted down their titles, the condition of each one and asking price. When I finished, I stacked them to the side then moved to the next three. It was slow work and I thought it might take the better part of the day. I was a third of the way through the bag when I heard a knock. "Alex," Mom called through the door. " Can I come in?" "Yeah, sure." I said, continuing to work. I heard her pad across the floor and then a hand touched my shoulder. "You okay, baby? You didn't come down for breakfast." "I have some stuff I want to get done," I said. "I'll eat something in a little while." Mom shifted positions. I knew she was peeking over my shoulder, checking out what was going on. "You're cataloging your comic books?" She asked. "Any particular reason?" "I'm selling them," I said as I scribbled in my notebook. "I'm going to auction them off on the net." Mom moved in between the comics and me. Placing her hands on my shoulders, she forced me to face her. "Alex, I know you've been upset with your father not taking you fishing and...your situation. But you love those books. It took you years to build that collection." "I think you're confusing me with John," I said, looking directly at her. "I'm Alex, mother. I'm a girl. John is dead. You should know that. You've reminded me of... how did you put it... Oh yeah, my situation, enough times." Mom lurched away from me to the bed. She buried her face in her hands. Her body trembled and she began to sob. Seeing her weep, I felt ashamed. I hurried over and put my arms around her. "I'm sorry, Mom. Please don't cry," I begged, trying not to cry myself. "I can't help it," she said, her voice muffled. "You're so...so un...unhappy. And we fi..fight all the time. We're not a fi..family anymore." Taking a breath, she lowered her hands and faced me with haunted, red- rimmed eyes. "I don't know how much more I can take, honey. I love you with all my heart but this is becoming more than I can bear." We sat in silence for a moment. I was too ashamed to look at my mother. I stared at my feet while my fingers played with the hem of my nightshirt. Finally she eased off the bed. "I've got to go," she said, her voice a sigh. "Today's a work day." Her lips brushed my cheek with the softest of kisses. "I love you," she whispered. "I'll be home as soon as I can." After Mom left, I thought about how things had deteriorated. It was like Mom, Dad, Tyler and I were all skydivers with no parachutes, hurtling faster and faster toward an impact with the ground. And when we did ...? I didn't want to think about it. I returned to my desk where a serious stack of comics waited. As long as I stayed busy I couldn't dwell on the things unraveling around me. I took a book from the stack and began to write. When I finally came up for air, only a few books remained in the bag. I dumped them onto my desk to check the titles. Mixed in with Gorgo, Incredible Science, and two issues of Flash Gordon was an issue of Fight Comics, featuring Tiger Girl. The cover showed a girl with blond hair posed to throw a spear. Strips of tiger skin covered her breasts and hips. Two Bengal Tigers reared on their hind legs beside her. The art was forties old school, drawn in graceful contour, with flat colors attended by heavy black ink to add depth. I knew every title in my collection, and this wasn't one of them. Where in the hell had it come from? Curious, I carried the book to my bed. Propping my back against the pillows I wiggled until I got comfortable. Then I began to read: In the story, Tiger Girl rescues a guy being whipped by a village chief. His crime: hunting in the chief's territory. The guy thanks Tiger Girl but spies on her. He learns she lives in a secret castle in the jungle. Meanwhile, the evil chief swears vengeance for being beaten by a woman. (I liked that part. It took some of the sting away from being beaten by Tyler). Anyway, a few days later, the chief and his men ambush Tiger Girl. Her servant Abdola shows up with their two tigers and sends the bad guys packing. The story continues with the chief trying various tricks to get Tiger Girl but she outwits him. Finally, he gets smart and digs a pit, filling it with sharp stakes and covers it with leaves. This time his plan works. When he attacks this time one of the tigers falls into the pit and is wounded. Tiger Girl and Abdula are captured. The evil chief thinks he's won but then another tribe attacks led by the guy Tiger Girl saved at the beginning of the story. The evil chief is killed and Tiger Girl learns her savior is also a famous chief. The next to the last panel shows Tiger Girl in tears because the injured tiger died. Abdula tells her not to cry, the remaining tiger, a female, is pregnant and Tiger Girl will have baby tigers to train. I closed the comic and put it aside. As I stretched out on my bed, I mulled over why Tiger Girl fascinated me so much. Compared to today's comics, the story line was primitive. There was no psychological drama, no gray areas. The good guys and girls were good and the bad guys were bad. But it wasn't the story's purist approach that stimulated my interest. It was something else. Tiger Girl, aka Princess Vishnu, could swing through the trees like Tarzan, and handle a whip like Indiana Jones. She took on bad guys twice her size and defeated them. Tiger Girl was graceful, confident, and yet not ashamed to cry. She made no apologies for being female. Being a girl made her stronger and better. I stifled a yawn. I'd been awake from before dawn and felt drowsy. As I closed my eyes I wondered what Tiger Girl's secret was. - I'm not in Kansas anymore- Firstly, I became aware of the birds, thousands of them all calling at once--ka-kas, whistles, and rattles that morphed into laughter. I opened my eyes--(had they been closed?)-- to the rich green of tropical foliage. I was surrounded by jungle, near the bank of a narrow river. A castle of white stone materialized on opposite bank. Red and white pendants flew from its battlements, fluttering brightly against a china blue sky. The river circled it like a moat. When I looked at the castle again, a tall man stood in the center of a lowered drawbridge. He was dressed a baggy red tunic and pants of the same color, crowned with a red turban. "Hello little cub," he said, his accent British and crisp. "We've been waiting for you. Do you know who I am?" "You're out of the comic book, " I said, marveling at the strangeness of it all "You're Sikh Abdula." "At your service." he said, bowing slightly, extending his hand. "Come. She is waiting for you." A shock of cool air swirled around me as we entered the castle. A wide hall paved with tile in an abstract pattern stretched before me. Large arched doorways, their interiors dark, opened on either side, their purpose a mystery. I heard the creak of chains straining under a heavy weight. I looked back to see the drawbridge closing behind us, shutting off the outside, reducing the hallway into twilight. Abdula hurried me along, changing directions several times where hallways intersected. I soon lost all sense of direction. Once, we encountered an immense statue, its alien shape surrounded by flickering candles. We paused there while Abdula muttered something to low to hear before continuing on. Finally, we reached a small, closed door. "In here," he said opening the door. When I stepped inside, he closed door behind me, leaving me alone. I'd expected something small and cozy, like a bedroom. But this room was vast and filled with objects of every size and shape, all of it covered with sheets. Everything wore a layer of dust, as if nothing had been disturbed in a very long time. Candles set in sconces along the wall burned unnaturally bright. Their flames cast long shadows, creating an atmosphere suited more for ghosts than anything else. I worked my way through the maze of draped menagerie but could find no sign of anyone. "Hello? I called. "Anybody home?" "Keep walking" a voice called back. "You're almost here." I trudged on, in the direction of the voice. This area was less cluttered. After a moment I spied what I thought might be someone in the distance. The flickering shadows made it impossible to be sure. As I neared, I saw it was a girl. She appeared a little older than me. She sat in a lazy boy identical to my dad's. Her arms were stretched out on the armrests her ankles crossed in front of her. "You're Tiger Girl," I said, eyeing the skimpy tiger skin that covered her breasts and a couple of inches of thigh. She nodded. "And you're John," she replied. Hearing my old name, I bristled. "My name is Alex." I said. "I don't know if you noticed, but I'm a girl." Tiger Girl raised herself from the chair, all motion and grace. Once again, I was struck with her confident, no apology attitude. "Are you a girl, really?" She asked. "I wonder." She crossed the floor to an antique wardrobe. Like the lazy boy, it looked like the one in my parent's room. "Let's see if you are," she said reaching inside. She lifted something out and extended it toward me, it was the blue dress from Just Girls. "Put this on," she said, her voice eerily casual. "You can change behind there." She indicated a Japanese changing screen I hadn't notice before. "I don't do dresses," I said. "You don't," she raised her eyes in mock surprise, "most girls enjoy them. It's part of being a female, like makeup and having your nails done." "It's not part of me," I said. " I don't do that stuff. Nobody said I had to. Besides, why does it matter what I wear? Its a damn piece of cloth." "Exactly. It's a piece of cloth. So why did you bury it in the back of your closet?" Tiger Girl asked. "What are you ashamed of Alex? Are you afraid of Tyler?" "Is that what this is about? " I asked. "Why should I care about my stupid brother?" "I can think of several reasons," said Tiger Girl, " Maybe you think he's better than you because he's bigger and stronger. Maybe you're jealous because he still has a dick and you don't." "Just shut up, okay," I yelled, pressing my hands against my ears. "I don't want to hear any more about Tyler." Tiger Girl took my wrists and gently lowered my arms to my sides. "There's no shame in being who you are Alex Tetras. The shame is trying to be something you're not. As long as you compete with Tyler as a boy, he'll beat you. But if you take him on as a girl, you'll win. And not just Tyler but Bradley and the others too." She slipped behind me and placed her hands on mine. Then she began lifting my shirt guiding my left hand toward my breast. "What are you doing--" "Sssshhhh " she cautioned. "I am going to wake the tiger in you, so it opens its eye and takes away your fear. I'm going to make you like me. I'm going to make you a woman." I felt her work my right hand behind the waistband of my jeans. In a moment she'd maneuvered into my panties, working in gentle motions against my groin. Her teeth nibbled at my ear, all the while, rubbing my left hand across my nipples, causing me to writhe with pleasure. I could feel a warm moisture building between my legs threatening to explode. I wanted to cry out ... Buuuuuzzzzzzzzzzz Buuuuuzzzzzzzzzzz I opened my eyes. I was lying on my bed in my room. My nightshirt was up around my chest and I had a hand inside my panties. I jerked it free, shocked and ashamed. Everything had been a dream. Buuuuuzzzzzzzzzzz I searched for the source of the sound. It took a moment to realize it was my iphone. I'd left it on vibrate and it was rattling against my desk. I struggled off the bed and fumbled my way to it. The screen displayed Tyler as the caller. A static filled voice greeted me when I answered. "Why in the hell aren't you at school,l you little bitch?" The voice didn't sound like Tyler's, but the static was so thick I couldn't be sure. "You almost fucked everything up!" "Drop it Tyler," I said. "I know it's you or Nathan and it's not funny." "You better get your ass in gear. Pull a stunt like-- " CLICK. I broke the connection. Between my period, and the crazy Tiger Girl dream, I was in no mood to play games with my stupid brother or his creepy friend. Buuuuuzzzzzzzzzzz Buuuuuzzzzzzzzzzz Another call. A quick check showed it was Tyler again. The twerp wasn't taking the hint. I switched off my phone and dropped it into a desk drawer. It hit with a satisfying thump. "Asshole neutralized," I laughed. Then I realized that was something Frank would say. All of a sudden, his image appeared in my mind, wearing an angry scowl. I felt a chill; my joke lost its humor. I hurried downstairs to make sure the doors and windows were locked. -Test for Echoes- Even my fear of Frank was not strong enough to drive out the demons Tiger Girl had loosed in my mind. After checking the latches on the windows and deadbolt on the door, I drifted into the den to settle into my favorite chair. It was an old platform rocker that belonged to my grandmother. I loved to rock in that chair when I was little. When grandmother died, I asked my parents if we could keep it. Sitting in it now offered at least a little comfort from the storm building in my head. Although I avoided girly things like dresses and jewelry, I'd really wanted some plastic bangles like I saw another girl wearing on our school bus. I'd become attracted to anything with bright pretty colors. I suspected it had something to do with my hormonal change. I'd done a fair job of suppressing those feelings, keeping my look androgynous. My one weakness was my hair. I'd left it long. But I keep it in a ponytail and never wore it loose. Hair was one thing while dresses and make-up were something else. Other girls wore lipstick and dresses or skirts whenever the mood moved them. I was the odd duck because I didn't. Shelly asked me once why my ears weren't pierced. For a moment I was at a loss of what to say. We were with several other girls as I was somewhat popular now. Not cheerleader popular but I had friends. The last thing I wanted to do was fuck that up like I had as John. I made the excuse that I was allergic to metal and couldn't wear earrings. "They make hypoallergenic ones now," said a girl name Terah. "You ought to think about getting some." "Yeah," said Claire, another new acquisition to our group. Claire was a luscious brunette with fully developed breasts. As John, I'd have been all over her, but now I felt no sexual attraction at all. "You're like the only girl at Clarksville that doesn't have pierced ears," she continued. "I mean that's okay, but-- " "Hey, I do my own thing, alright!" I said a little shriller than I intended. "I didn't mean anything by it," Claire said looking hurt. "I like you Alex but Clarksville's small place and people talk." "Because my ears aren't pierced?" I couldn't believe anybody cared about that. "About everything," she said, her hand sweeping in the direction of my long sleeve tee and jeans. "I mean you wear the same thing every day. Some people think that's strange." The bell rang and our group splintered in a dozen directions. By the end of the day, I'd forgotten about Claire. What no one knew were my jeans and long sleeve tees were more than clothes. They were how I coped with things. Without my androgyny-- You'd have nothing to hide behind, said the voice of Tiger Girl in my head. What are you ashamed of Alex? "I'm not ashamed of anything," I said aloud. "I like dressing this way. I'm fine with it." "Then why are you always fighting with your mother," the voice countered, " Why are you always trying to compete with Tyler." "We've been over this before! Leave me the fuck alone!" I shouted, leaping up from the chair. I stood there breathing hard, my heart pounding. I realized my hands were balled into fists but there was no one to strike out at. I was fighting against myself. I decided to get a shower and change my pad. Mom said if left on too long it would develop an odor. Maybe the diversion would wash the echoes of the uncomfortable dream out of my head. I copped a plastic grocery bag from Mom's stash in the kitchen along with clean panties and a pad from my room. After I peed, I checked the toilet paper. There were still traces of blood but not heavy. Mom said my first period might be light. I hoped she was right. My dirty panties went into the clothes hamper and the used pad into the plastic bag. I didn't want Tyler finding evidence of my period. The water was steamy hot and I exited lobster red. But even the near scalding experience couldn't clear my head. I toweled off, dabbing only gingerly around my breasts and groin. The sexual pleasures Tiger Girl stirred in my dream were still vivid. They'd been profoundly feminine. But they were too powerful for my delicate mental state to handle. I wasn't ready for that. Maybe one day but not now. I lowered the toilet seat and covered it with a towel. Resting my elbows on my legs, my head cradled in my hands, I perched on the lowered lid. It seemed every time I was left to myself, my mind went flying over the edge with supposition. Like when I encountered Bradley and Monica at the Barnes house. Afterward, I'd been haunted with the fear the "Adam to Eve" virus wasn't done with me. That it was warping my cellular makeup, recoding my brain until I would cease to be, and someone or something else would take over the controls. Today, the Tiger Girl dream haunted me with a ceaseless interrogation of irrelevant innuendo. Or was it? What if Tiger Girl, real or not, had a point? The questions continued to nag me. I'd learned from experience that I wouldn't rest until I settled things in one way or another. Leaving the bathroom, armed only with my towel, I navigated to my parent's room. Standing naked before the vanity, the girl in the mirror stared back at me with large blue eyes. Her petite body bordered on elfin, her figure just beginning to develop. Her small breasts, capped with tiny brown nipples, were perfectly formed. A little patch of gold crowned the divide between her legs. Her face was full of questions. I traced the shape of my breast with my hand. A minute of pleasure surged through me as my finger brushed my nipple. My breasts were becoming a part of me. My hand shifted to the little mound with its tuft of soft blonde hair just above my vagina. So smooth. Like my breasts, I was becoming accustomed to the way I was down there. -Tangled up in Blue- "Why are you doing this?" a part of me screamed. I'd found a way to exist, comfortably numb in my self-imposed ignorance of my new and improved self. Now, I was about to screw it all up, because a comic book character taunted me with a dare, in a stupid dream. It was a crazy thing to do. It wasn't who I was. At the same time, I couldn't live with the unanswered questions dangling in my mind, like a dozen of Damocles swords. If I was running from something,I needed to confront it. On the way to my bedroom, I asked myself once more. Do I want to do this? But I knew I had to. The blue dress hung in the very back of the closet. I slipped it off its hanger and held it at arms length. If Brooke hadn't been such a bitch, I wouldn't have talked Mom into buying a dress I never intended to wear. Dresses were for girls. That's right, said what was left of the boy in me. Dresses ARE for sissies. So what does that say about you? I stiffened. "Just shut the fuck up," I said aloud. "It's only a damn piece of cloth!" But as I carried it to my parents' room I knew it was more. What did it say about me? This was the question that needed an answer. I spread the blue dress out on my parents' bed and ran my fingers across the silky smooth cloth, feeling the tuck at the hem. Facing away from the mirror, I slid the zipper down its metal track. With the solemnity of a priest performing Sunday mass, I lifted the airy light fabric off the bed and slipped it over my head. My pulse quicken with excitement, not knowing where this was leading. The hardest part was zipping up. The zipper was in the back. I grabbed the pull-tab underhanded and moved the slider up as far as I could, reaching over my shoulder to finish the job. As a final act, I slipped the scrunchy off my ponytail letting my hair tumble free around my shoulders. Then I turned toward the vanity, to see what I would see. The girl in the mirror gazed back at me with large blue eyes. Her golden locks fell past her shoulders to kiss her tiny breasts with their tips. The dress might have been designed for her alone. It caressed her body like a lover. She moved and the dress moved with her, swaying merrily to the motions of her body, a dance of soft flesh and fabric. How different she was from John. I sat on the bed amazed by how the dress had transformed me into something new, something delicate and precious. There'd been no trace of John at all, only the girl with blue eyes and honey colored hair. I knew if I wanted to, I could lose myself in her. John wouldn't even be a memory. I could erase him forever. But was this what I wanted? The girl in the mirror was a stranger. If I became her, how could I still be me? "Alex I'm home." Mom's voice made me jump. "Alex, are you in here?" I head the click of a door open and then close, probably the one to my bedroom. "Alex where are you? I have something for you." The voice was closer. If she checked her bedroom, she'd find me wearing the blue dress. I could hide under the bed, or behind the door. Or I could face her like I was. I stood at a metaphorical point of no return. This was exactly the direction she was pushing me in. She wouldn't be happy until she had me wearing bows in my hair and frilly skirts. If Mom saw me like this, in the blue dress, there would be no stopping her. But even without my mother's continuous attempts at manipulation, I knew I was changing. Like the Langoliers, creatures in the Stephen King novel that ate yesterdays, my old personality was being devoured. I was being reshaped into something new, much of it against my will. The old me was trapped in yesterday and would soon be lunch. If I clung to it, I'd be gobbled up too. The only way to keep control was to move forward. I decided to take the plunge. "I'm in here Mom," I called, standing so I'd face her when she came in. "I'm in your room." The doorknob turned then Mom was pushing through the door with a package under one arm. "Alex I thought you might want this--" She stopped abruptly, her mouth hanging open seeing me standing there. "Oh baby," her hand went to her mouth as she stumbled toward me. I could see her eyes were beginning to moisten. "I thought I'd give dresses a try," I said attempting to lighten things "I mean being a girl and all." Even as I said it, it sounded faked. Mom wasn't buying it either. She was wearing the half smile, half frown she assumed whenever she caught Tyler or me fudging the truth. "Have a seat sweetie," she said taking my hands leading me to the bed. "What's going on? I blinked taken a little aback. "I was trying on the dress you got me. I thought you'd be happy about it." "Alex it's not what you wear that makes me happy. What makes me happy is when I think you're comfortable with yourself. I'm not sure you are." "I want to do this," I said. "I need to try things. If I'm going to be stuck as a girl for the rest of my life, I need to start being one." "Being female is not about dresses Alex. It's about... well I can't put it into words. Its something that has to be experienced...something that needs to be lived." "That's what I'm trying to do Mom," I said, "I'm doing it the only way I know how." "Okay honey." She sighed, "I'll leave you alone." She kissed me lightly on the forehead. "I'll be downstairs getting supper ready. I could use some company, when you're done." "Oh I almost forgot." She said pausing in the doorway. " I got your pads." She handed me the bag she'd carried in with her. Then she was out the door. I heard her footsteps fade away down the hall. I carried the bag to my room and dumped the contents onto my bed. To my surprise a short plaid skirt tumbled out along with the maxi-thins. It was so small and light I hadn't noticed its weight in the bag. I turned it over in my hands then held it out in front of me. The plaid pattern and pleats reminded me of the skirts girls in private schools wore. But this one had a feature school uniforms lacked, a studded leather belt. The skirt screamed punky tough girl. Shelly would never wear something like this. I doubted my arch nemesis, Brooke, would either. But Tiger Girl would. I glanced at the skirt again. It was an odd choice for my mother, knowing her as I did. It was not the kind of thing she normally approved of. So, why had she picked this one? And why had she left it in the bag for me to find? Unless she thought the punky style would appeal to me. That had to be the reason. She was trying to manipulate me again. The idea enraged me. I snatched up the skirt and went to confront her. I found Mom in the kitchen laying out ingredients for a salad. A large pot bubbled on the stove, a misty white blanket of steam floated above it. Mom smiled when she saw me. "I was hoping you'd come down," she said. "Want to help with dinner?" "What's this about?" I asked thrusting the skirt toward her. Mom's smile flattened as her lips pressed together. She looked embarrassed. "You weren't suppose to see that," she said. "At least not yet." "Do you want to tell me why you even brought it home." Mom crossed over to the small breakfast table and sat down. She made a motion for me to sit opposite her. I ignored her and continued to stand, my hands on my hips. "I thought ..." she paused, took a breath and began again. "I thought one day you could wear it to school. It's a cute skirt. The store was going to throw it away because someone had smeared finger nail polish on the hem -- Just a tiny spot, but enough to ruin it for sale. So I asked if I could have it. I cleaned off the stain with a little nail polish remover. I was going to put it aside until--. "Until I came around and started acting like a girl!" I said, cutting her off. "Alex, please let's not fight," Mom said. "I don't know why you're upset. You're wearing a dress right now. Did I miss something?" I glanced down at the blue dress. In my anger, I'd forgotten to take it off. But to my mind it didn't matter what I was wearing. The fact that my mother once again tried to bend me to her wants pissed me off. "It's just I don't want people making decisions for me. Okay!" Mom had that hurt look again and I immediately regretted what I'd said. I'd promised myself I wouldn't rage at her anymore and here I was lashing out. "I'm sorry," I said taking a seat across from her. " I don't know why I get crazy about things. The skirt is no big deal. Actually, the belt with the studs is kind of cool." Mom's eyes' were still teary, but she smiled. "Do I need to keep an eye on you? It sounds like you're up to something. " Yeah," I laughed. "I'm planning to rock the world of girl. I just needed a short skirt with studs to pull it off. How did you know?" We laughed. Then Mom, back to her old self, was back in motion. Crisscrossing the kitchen, she snatched something here, nabbed something from there, humming happily as she put together one of her famous casseroles. Watching her work, it dawned on me that until a few weeks ago, she'd been the only female in our family. The realization prompted a question. "Mom..." She paused, shredded cheese dangling from her fingers above the casserole dish. "What, baby?" "Are you happy being a girl?" She smiled. "I wouldn't want to be anything else." Though I'd become comfortable wearing the blue dress around Mom, I wanted to be in jeans when Tyler and Dad got home. I wasn't ready to make my debut in feminine attire. Maybe one day I'd be comfortable wearing that stuff but not now. I went upstairs to change. After switching Mom's bulky pad for a thin one and a clean underwear (for some reason, I felt I needed to change panties every time I changed my pad) I put on one of my short sleeve tee's and a pair of Tyler's baggy hand-me-down jeans, instead of my skinny ones. I didn't want my pad showing. As I checked myself in the mirror, I remembered I'd left the skirt in the kitchen. On the way downstairs I noticed how different the jeans felt. The airy freedom of the dress was replaced with something more confining. Wearing the dress had made me feel whimsical and profoundly conscious of my body. The jeans felt boyish but not in a particularly fun way. They were almost boring. The kitchen was empty. I could hear Mom rummaging around in the laundry room. I looked around and spotted the skirt draped over the back of a kitchen chair. I picked it up and almost ran head first into Tyler on my way out of the kitchen. I hadn't heard him come home. "What's this? " he laughed, snatching the skirt out of my hand. "Getting in touch with your feminine side?" "Give it back," I cried, grabbing for it. Tyler twisted away holding it high above my head, so I couldn't reach it. "Take it, " he growled. "I dare you." I felt tears threatening. I started to call for Mom when Nathan stepped into view. "Cut the shit man," he snapped, taking the skirt from Tyler. "Here Alex," he said, handing it back to me. Clutching the skirt to my breast, I pushed past my brother and hurried up the stairs before they could see me cry. I spent the rest of the afternoon brooding. I was aggravated by Tyler's bullying but helpless to do anything about it. He was bigger and stronger than me and he knew it. He also had no reservations about using his size and strength against me. When I came down for supper, I found Nathan sitting at my place at the table. I started to protest but Mom stopped me. "I need your help in the kitchen," she said sweetly. "You don't mind do you?" I shook my head and followed her out of the dining room. "What's he doing here? ' I asked fighting to keep my voice low. "He's in my seat!" "Nathan is helping Tyler with a school project." Mom said. "I thought it best to let them sit next to each other. It won't kill you to sit by me for one night." She reached into the oven and lifted out an aluminum pan of freshly baked dinner rolls. "Take these to the table," she said. "I'll bring the casserole." Supper was awkward, at least for me. Nathan didn't try to hide his interest in me--though this time he didn't stare openly at my breasts. He kept asking me questions like how I liked Clarksville, and my classes at school, what were my favorite bands. Pretty much everything except what was the color my underwear. I answered with grunts and mumbles while Mom and Dad watched with barely concealed grins. The fact Tyler was visibly pissed at being ignored by his friend made it worth enduring. Nathan's Dad arrived just as Mom and I were clearing the table of dishes. I was helping to avoid my brother and his buddy. When the doorbell rang. I followed Mom into the living room to see who it was, but hung back as Nathan and Tyler came down the stairs. From where I stood, I could only glimpse Nathan's father, a tall figure wearing a heavier coat than the weather required. Mom and Dad crowded the doorway blocking my view while they chatted. Tyler shuffled nervously from one foot to the other as if he was practicing some moronic dance. Finally, the little group said goodbye. Instead of Nathan following his father out, he walked toward me. Before I could stop him he took my hand. My impulse was to jerk it back but the sincerity in his eyes stopped me. "I...I really liked talking to you Alex," he stuttered. "You're like the prettiest girl at school." He stared down at his shoes before looking at me again. " I was ...I was hoping maybe we could do something together sometime. It doesn't have to be a date, just hang out." I stood there stunned. Had a boy just asked me out? My mouth moved but nothing came out. I was speechless. His face scrunched up. I wasn't sure if it was because I didn't give an answer, or that he'd embarrassed himself. "I gotta go," he said. Then he raced out the door. "Well, this was a fun evening," Tyler said. "Now you're stealing my friends. Thanks Alex. Thanks a fucking lot!" Taken aback, I stood mute as he stormed off. Before I went to bed I told Mom what happened. "I think Nathan has a crush on you," she said, "You're going to have to learn how to handle it. Not just with Nathan, other boys will be interested in you as time goes on. You're a very pretty girl, Alex." "I don't even know if I like boys," I said, "I know girls are suppose to, but it seems weird. I mean I used to be a boy." "You don't have to decide tonight," Mom said. "Follow your heart, honey. Just know what ever you decide, your dad and I are here for you." -Rocking the World of Girl- The next morning was Saturday. When I checked my pad in the bathroom, it was still bloody. Actually, it looked pretty much like the day before. I sighed, so much for a quick period. At least I had a couple of days before I had to deal with it at school. After I changed pads and panties, I put on in the baggy jeans I'd worn yesterday. Then I dug though my closet for a fresh top. I hadn't searched very far when I stumbled upon the plaid skirt. I pushed it out of the way and continued my hunt for a top. I finally settled on a pink tee with a Levi's logo. I slipped it on and headed downstairs for breakfast. "Where is everybody?" I asked my mom seeing she was the only one around. "Your dad took Tyler to look at a cabin that's for sale," said Mom. "Then they were going to spend the rest of the afternoon fishing." I blinked. What was wrong with everybody? It was like Clarksville had infested everyone's brains, remaking us into Hicksville caricatures. "What's up with Dad and the great outdoors all of a sudden? It's like he's turned into Grizzly Adams." Mom smiled. "This is his way of coping with things, honey. He's trying to deal with what's happened the best he can." "Which is finding excuses to be away from me." I said. "That's obvious." "Really Alex, do you think you'd be comfortable spending the day with a bunch of men." I thought about it. Being around boys made me uneasy, especially if I was by myself. I couldn't comprehend being around grown men. The idea repulsed me. "Besides," Mom continued, "We need to go to the mall." "Why?" I dreaded shopping. "Well, for one thing, you need a coat. We're almost into November and it gets much colder here than it did and Sacramento. I've been told Clarksville gets snow. I'd forgotten how late in October it was. Halloween was only a week away. Several girls invited me to parties though I hadn't committed to any. "And shoes," Mom kept ticking things off. "You can't go the rest of the year wearing those basketball shoes." "High tops," I corrected. "Whatever, Alex. I think we should also expand your wardrobe. You need more than jeans." "Do we have to do all this today? " I asked as I poured myself a bowl of cereal. "Did you have something else planned?" Mom gave me one of those looks that meant, yes, we do have to do this today "Alright," I sighed. "We'll go after you eat and change," Mom said. The spoonful of cereal froze halfway to my mouth. "Change clothes? I can't wear my good jeans, Mom. They're too tight. People will see my pad." "I was thinking you could wear the skirt I got for you," she said. "And one of your nice tops." I put the spoon down and pushed the bowl of cereal away from me. "You can't be serious." I said. "Because I suggested you wear the skirt? Mom asked her eyebrows raised. " You said yourself you thought it was cool." "I said the belt was cool," I corrected. "Mom, I don't know if I'm ready to wear a skirt in public." Mom pulled up a chair beside me. "Baby, it's not going to get any easier, eventually you're going to have to attend events that require dresses or skirts. You need to be comfortable with the idea, when it happens. The longer you put it off, the harder it's going to be. You won't be the only girl wearing a skirt at the mall. There'll be a least a dozen others, maybe more." "It's not the same thing," I argued, "They grew up wearing that kind of stuff. I didn't." "Really Alex," Mom let out an exasperated breath, "I thought we were past this. Yesterday you were so different about everything." "That was before you started pushing me into things I'm not ready for," I cried. "Baby, I don't want to force you to do anything you feel uncomfortable about." "Then don't!" I said stomping away. By the time I reached the stairs, I'd cooled off enough to regret how I'd acted toward my mother. Lately, I found myself depending on her more and more, as my dad pushed me further away. I thought of how depressed she'd become yesterday, when I raged at her about selling my comics. Switching directions, I backtracked to the kitchen to apologize. I found her seated in one of the chairs from the breakfast table. She was staring through the open back door into the yard. "Mom," I ventured in a low voice. "Mom, are you all right?" "I'm fine, Alex." Mom said, waving me away, her voice little more than a croak. "Go back to whatever it was you were doing." I wanted to break down in tears. I wanted to hug her. I wanted tell her I was sorry for all the hurt I caused her over the past few weeks. But I didn't do any of those things. I ran out of the kitchen as if I were being chased by the same demons that haunted her. Perhaps I was. Instead of going to my room I went to Mom's. "What am I going to do?" I asked the girl in the mirror " I've lost my dad. He looks for excuse to avoid me. Now I'm losing Mom." The girl in the mirror looked back with her large blue eyes. "Your mom just wants to spend time with you, Alex. She wants you to do things together. She wanted to go shopping with you today, but you pushed her away." "Mom wants a daughter." I told the girl with honey blond hair. "She's tried to make me one since I was infected. She thinks getting me into dresses is a way to make it happen." "Is that what you think? Exclaimed the girl. Though she looked the same, the blue eyes had lost their innocence. Now they were fierce. I knew Tiger Girl had taken her place. "You are her daughter, Alex. Running from the truth won't change it. You can pretend to be a boy, but it won't make you one. It's time to accept who you are now, a girl." "No!" I screamed. "I have to be John. Girls are weak." "Girls are as strong as boys in their own way," said Tiger Girl. "Stronger. "What are you afraid of Alex," said the girl in the mirror. " When you tried on the blue dress you liked what you saw in the mirror." "Why are you doing this to me," I cried. I thought I might be going crazy. "You know I'm not ready for this." "Because it's time to stop running away," said Tiger Girl. "Its time to accept who you are." "And if I do? " I asked. "Will things get better?" "Nothing is for certain," said Tiger Girl. " But if you don't try, you'll never know." * * * * Standing at the top of the stairs, I thought about what I planned to do. Once I began there was no going back. "Going back? To what?" Asked one of the voices. I ignored it and placed my hand on the banister, seeking reassurance by tightening my fingers around the smooth wooden rail. My knees were shaky, my steps clumsy. "Every journey begins with a single step," I said quoting a line I'd read in a novel somewhere, "and then another." My palm slid down the varnished curve of wood as I descended the staircase. My eyes flicked back and forth from the foot of the stairs to the front door. If Tyler and Dad walked in there was no way they could miss me on the stairs. So what if they do? I asked myself, shrugging mentally. They're going to see my like this, eventually. I reached the bottom. Placing a hand against the wall, I leaned forward and peered into the empty living room, my gaze settling on granny's rocker. It would be so easy to slip into that old platform chair, to lose myself in its cradle like motion while the world faded away. That was the easy way, the way I'd sort of been doing since my "change." I took a breath. I'd used granny's chair as a crutch for too long. It was time to grow up. I stepped off the bottom stair and onto the thick carpet. Sunlight blazed through the windows, bathing the room in brilliant light. Every step I took registered the cushy surface under my feet. Time seemed to drag, my movements slow as if I were moving through something thick and restrictive. "What if this doesn't work out the way you want," whispered John's voice. " You'll be stuck. You can still turn back and no one will ever know. Why take a chance?" "Mom?" I called before John's voice could place more doubt in my mind. "Mom, where are you?" "In here," Mom answered from the kitchen. I found her digging through a box on the breakfast table, her back to me as I stood in the doorway. "Mom," I repeated. "I found something I think you could use," she said, without looking up. "Now where is it? "Oh! Here it is." She lifted a denim jacket out of the box. "Tyler wore this when he was twelve. I think it should fit yo--" She stopped in mid sentence. The jacket dropped back into the box as her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise. I stood passively, arms at my side, while she looked me up and down. Along with the plaid skirt, I'd put on my most feminine top, a short sleeve pink pullover with a low cut neckline. Blue green hearts accented by sequins decorated the front. I'd removed the scrunchy so my hair hung loose. "I'm ready if you are, Mom," I said, timidity in my voice. " I mean to go to the mall. We don't have to buy anything. We can just hang out." Mom's face seemed to crumble. At first I was afraid she would cry, that I'd messed up again. Then I saw it wasn't sadness but a sort of joy. She rushed forward and swept me up in a hug. "You did this for me," she whispered. She stepped back wiping away tears. "Oh Alex, if you only realized how beautiful you are." "Can we go," I said. I wanted to do this before I chickened out. Plus, Mom's fawning over me was making me more self-conscious. She smiled. "Of course, baby. Let me get my purse." She frowned at the box on the table. "Alex, would you mind returning that box to the storage room. I need to get a couple of things. I can meet you at the car." The storage room wasn't really a room. It was a small standalone building in the corner of our yard. I carried the box to the back door. When I opened the door, a rush of cool air swirled around my bare legs and up my skirt. I felt my skin prickle from the chill. I dropped the box off in the storeroom, but not before fishing out the denim jacket. I wanted something warm against the chilly afternoon. The jacket turned out to be a better fit than I imagined. But more than that, it added a boyish element to my other clothes making me feel more comfortable about wearing a skirt. When I got into the car Mom questioned me with a look "It's getting chilly." I said. " My legs were cold. How do girls deal with skirts in the winter?" She laughed. "You get used to it. Your legs are sensitive from wearing pants. You can wear tights under your dress for really cold weather. We'll pick up some while were out." The skirt ended a good distance above my knees and exposed even more thigh when seated. I thought that might be a problem at the mall. When I was a guy, one of my favorite things was to see if I could glimpse a girl's panties when she sat. My friends in Sacramento called them "squirrel shots," and I'd spotted a couple of dozen squirrels in my life. I had no intention of showing mine. While Mom steered us toward the mall, I experimented with keeping my private area private. I tired going from knees together to crossing my legs without flashing my panties. All the squirming caused Mom to look over. "Alex, what is all that moving around?" she asked. "I think my skirt's too short," I said. "People might see my underwear." "It's fine," Mom said. "You don't want it so long that people mistake you for an old woman. Look we're here." Mom steered through the parking area traversing several aisles before finding an empty spot. The massive amount of cars made me cringe. "Ready, honey?" Mom asked. Her eyes twinkled like a child who'd been granted their fondest wish. "Yeah." I said, forcing myself to smile. "Let's do this." I opened the door, keeping my legs together as I swung them out, before stepping onto the asphalt. Then, I stood by while Mom pressed the remote on her key ring to lock the doors. As we started toward the mall entrance, a sudden gust of wind blew past, lifting my skirt. I fought it back down, but not before noticing a group of boys pointing and laughing from a little distance away. "Thanks for the show," yelled the tall one with sandy blonde hair. I'd seen him around at school but didn't know name. "Why don't you kiss--." "Alex!" Mom snapped, cutting me off. The sandy haired boy flipped me off, then trotted after his friends jogging toward the mall's main entrance. "I expect you to act like a young lady," Mom scolded me, as I watched the group disappear inside. "Getting into verbal battles is unacceptable." "But Mom they saw up my skirt," I protested. My mother stifled a laugh. "I doubt they saw much, honey," she said. "Lowering yourself to their level is much worse than a boy getting a peep at your panties." There was no point in arguing. I followed Mom across the parking lot; relieved she was moving in the direction of the side entrance, nearer the Just Girls shop. That lessened the risk of running into sandy hair. I wasn't taking chances with my skirt, either. I kept my hands pressed against my thighs, just in case. To my surprise, no one in the mall seemed to notice what I was wearing. I did receive an occasional smile or nod, but that was all. There was no finger pointing or snickers like I'd expected. I caught my reflection in the glass fa?ade of a shop and saw why. Staring back was a young girl, wearing a short skirt and a blue jean jacket over of pink top. She could have been anyone. The fact I looked perfectly normal allowed me to relax and enjoy the mall, for the first time since coming to Clarksville. Something else budded inside me as well, optimism. Was I becoming more comfortable in my new role? I thought I might be. The idea I might enjoy being Alex forced me to smile. I wasn't fighting myself today. Rather question why, I decided to just enjoy the afternoon, my first happy one in a very long time. Although I'd told Mom we could get my coat at a discount store, she insisted we look for one at Just Girls, first. Just Girls carried top of the line merchandise and a coat from there wouldn't be cheap. Still, I was curious to see what they had, so I agreed. "If you see something you like, don't be afraid to tell me," Mom said as we entered the store. "I get an employee discount, plus I have this." She reached into her purse and pulled out a credit card. "Mom, I don't want you running up a big bill for stuff I might not wear." I cautioned. I didn't want a guilt trip laid on me later. "Its not our money," she said. I blinked confused. "What?" "When you... er... were infected and went through that... change." Mom was still uncomfortable taking about what had happened. "Anyway ...eh...as we were about to leave the hospital Dr. Swanson gave me this. It's a special account to help pay for things you need as Alex. I thought it was very responsible of them." The idea of trying to make things right with a credit card made me feel cheap. At the same time I was going to spend the hell out of it. They owed me that much. The same disinterested girl I'd seen last time manned the counter. She nodded at us then went back to flipping though her magazine. "Does she ever work?" I asked Mom as we strolled toward the coat section. "That's, Terry," said Mom. "The owners daughter." At the coat rack, I picked out a lavender parka with a fur-lined hood and a cool Rip Curl logo embroidered on the pockets I'd barely lifted the coat off the rack when Mom maneuvered me to the dresses and skirts. Though I was less reluctant than I before, I shuffled through them with only a half interest. I did consent to a couple of frock dresses, along with a denim skirt. While Mom continued to dig through the skirts I wandered over to the tights. They came in several colors and patterns. I pick out a black pair, and one with multicolor designs. I carried my picks over to Mom. We were placing our purchases on the counter when an older lady, dressed in a wine red pantsuit, came out from the back. Though tall and rather plain, she carried herself with a natural elegance. "Ann," she said, smiling revealing a row of large teeth that reminded me of Mr. Ed. "I'm so glad to see you. I was just about to call you when I heard your voice." "What's the problem, Vivian? Do you need help with something?" "It's payroll," said Vivian. "I found some glitches in the records. Not yours of course, one of the sales girls. She entered some receipts incorrectly and now the books don't balance. Can you spare an hour?" Mom frowned. "I don't know," she said," I'm here with my daughter. We were having a mother daughter day." Vivian looked at me as if noticing me for the first time. She smiled showing her horse teeth again. "What a lovely girl. That skirt looks like one of ours." Mom placed an arm on my shoulder. "This is my daughter Alex," she said. "Alex this is Ms. Carmalari, she's the owner of Just Girls." "Nice to meet you," I said extending my hand. She took it in her limp one. I got the impression she could care less about who I was. "It's okay if you need to help Ms. Carmalari, Mom" I said. "I can hang out in the mall for a while." "Alex, you're a dear," Ms. Carmalari purred. "Don't be too long," Mom warned in her mom voice. "Do you need some money?" "I'm just going to look around." I said as way of goodbye. Out side the store, the crowd had thinned which was fine by me. I wanted time to myself, without the roar a busy mall produces. While I decided which direction to go, I spotted a boy staring at me from the shop across the promenade. Bathed in shadows and colored neon, the half-light made it difficult to see him clearly. Whoever it was seemed nervous. He shifted around but never took his eyes off me. I thought about calling him out with something sarcastic, like "haven't you ever seen a girl before," or " if you take a picture it will last longer." Then boy stepped from out of the shadows. It was Cal. His arm was raised as if he were hailing a cab as he moved in my direction. He might have even called out to me, I wasn't sure. I was in motion too, moving away from him. I'd only taken a few steps when panic mode set in. I broke into a run, jostling an elderly woman as I rushed past. "No running, young lady!" shouted a mall guard. I ignored him and sped on, not slowing until I reached where the corridor ended in a food court. Two short passageways angled left and right, each one opening into a large department store with a public restroom on each wing. The girls' restroom was on the left. I rushed in and ducked into a stall. Sitting on the toilet, my skirt gathered under me, I struggled to stop shaking. When the tremors subsided, I stood up and straighten my skirt, then moved to the restroom door. I cracked it open and peeped out. Several people were visible but Cal wasn't among them. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Hi, John," said a voice from behind as I stepped back into the mall. I spun around to see Cal smiling at me. Apparently, he'd been hidden behind the door. Because it opened outward, it had blocked my view. "My name is Alex," I said. "And I don't know what you're talking about." "Then why did you run?" His eyes dared me to answer. Unsure of what to do, I thought about fleeing back to Just Girls. I doubted he'd follow me inside. But if I did, that would be pretty much prove he'd been right. Maybe I could bluff my way out of this. "Okay," I said. " I am John's sister. But he doesn't live in Clarksville, anymore. He transferred to an art school." "And I'm the Incredible Hulk." His expression softened. "Look, if you don't want to tell me the truth, fine. It's not like I'm going to tell anybody, either way. But, we used to be best friends. What sucks is you had some kind of shit happen and you didn't ask me for help." I could see genuine hurt in his eyes. They glistened with tears. He wiped a sleeve across his face composing himself. " I won't bother you anymore, John. Have a nice life." Then he turned and began walking away. "Cal, wait," I called after him. I was relieved when he stopped and looked back. "Do you have a couple of dollars?" He looked confused, but nodded. "Buy us a couple of cokes, " I said, indicating the food court, " and we'll talk." Though the mall's parking lot had been full, the food court was relatively empty. Cal and I sat in the back, away from the other customers, at one of the round plastic tables. "So how did you know?" I asked, poking my drink with a straw, watching the ice spin in a slow circle. There was no point in trying to hide things any longer. "I would have probably figured things out eventually, " Cal said. But it all started to click when I saw you in the cafeteria the other day." "The day I show up as a girl," I said, watching him wince at the word. "Oh, and by the way, my name is Alex." I added, rubbing verbal salt into the wound I'd opened. "Yeah, that day," he said. "You were sitting with that girl that works in the office, Shelly Parker." "That's it?" "It was the way you came over to her table. You have this stupid way you always hold your tray. You don't hold it by the sides like normal people. You hold it with both hands in the front. Nobody else in school does that." "You notice some really stupid things," I said. But it felt good talking to Cal again. I'd missed him. "I'm not done," he said. "You also slide your chair out from under the table with this crazy kick thing. That's what you did that day. It was very ungirlish. Anyway, I decided to do a little investigating. Another kid who works in the office told me you were John's sister and John had left Clarksville to go to some high school that specialized in Art. I knew that was bogus. First. John didn't have a sister, at least not one he'd ever mentioned. And John wasn't interested in art; his thing was comic books. "Then there was Bradley Conrad's amnesia. For a guy who'd been involved in a serious wreck, he sure looked good. No visible scars. Only a tiny spot on the back of his neck, small enough to be covered by a band aid. He also couldn't remember anything around the time John supposedly left for Art school. "I was still unsure it was Bradley who somehow changed you, either to keep you away from Monica, or to get even with you, until I saw your comics for sale on the net. John would never turn those comics loose unless something major happened. Something like he wasn't John anymore." I nodded. "Want to furnish the details? " He prompted. I took a breath and then gave him the short version of my encounter with Bradley in the Barnes house, waking up in the hospital as Alex. I skipped the family drama that ensued afterward. That was personal, though I did tell him about my battle with Brooke over the blue dress. "So what's it like?" Cal asked. "What's what like?" I wasn't sure what he meant. "Being a girl, doofus. What did you think I meant?" "It's not like anything." I said. "It's just...well normal." "Come on, man. You must miss having a dick." The eager look on his face made me uncomfortable. Males could be such assholes. " I kind of remember having one, but I don't miss it." I said, dryly. "Any other perverted, personal, filthy fucking questions you want to ask before we move on." "Sorry," Cal said, looking down at the table. " I guess that was kind of personal." "Yeah, it was," I said. " But I'd probably ask the same thing if you were me. T