How I Became The Baddest Girl In Clarksville Part 6 Girls Just Want To Have Fun free porn video

How I Became the Baddest Girl in Clarksville Part 6 Girls just want to have fun -Don't eat stuff off the sidewalk- Because I missed my bus I faced a long walk home. Typical of late October, the temperature had begun to drop as evening neared, generating enough chill to make short sleeves uncomfortable. I paused to dig my denim jacket out of my book bag and slip it on. It belonged to Tyler until he'd outgrown it. The shoulders were too wide and the sleeves too long, but it was my favorite piece of outerwear. I liked the tomboyish feeling when I put it on. There was something sinfully delicious about that feeling today after my face off with Monica. I was reminded of the Lou Reed song, "Take a walk on the wild side." Many of the houses along the street displayed carved pumpkins in windows or the occasional scarecrow propped in a chair, on the porch--a reminder tomorrow night was Halloween. The combination of spooky decorations and chilly weather made the trek home bearable. I was almost glad I'd miss my bus as I strolled along. I thought about the invitation from Abbey to sleep over at her house tomorrow night. She wanted to make popcorn balls and watch old black and white horror flicks. Brett and Shelly would be there and she said I should come too. Back in Sacramento, All Hallows Eve had been my favorite holiday. I hated to let it pass without doing something. Joining the gang at Brett's might make for a fun Halloween, but if it meant answering questions about Monica, I'd just as soon stay home and watch the classic movies channel. As I wrestled with if I should go or not, the roar of a motorcycle shattered the stillness of the afternoon. Whoever it was wound each gear to an earsplitting scream before shifting to the next. Judging by the increasing volume, they were coming my way. Seconds later I glimpsed them round the corner onto my street. As the bike rushed past, I thought its rider looked at me for a long moment though I couldn't be sure. Their features were hidden behind a mirrored visor attached to their helmet. I followed the bike's progress until it disappeared and then started toward home again. But try as I might, I couldn't get back into my spooky seasonal groove. Something about the encounter had soured things. Now the walk just sucked. Half a block later, I heard the bike again. There was no mistaking the prolonged, agonizing acceleration between shifts. Whoever it was had circled around and now they were making a second pass. I wished they'd pick a different street. The mounting blare of straight pipes was beginning to give me a headache. I stopped to watch as they reappeared, eating up the distance between us, gunning the engine for all it was worth. Then something unexpected happened. Instead of rushing past, the biker braked to a stop. The engine sputtered, threatening to stall as the mirrored visor swung my way. Everything shifted into slow motion. The bike, now stationary, appeared to miraculously balance on its two wheels, the rider locking me in a visual embrace. How long we stared at each other I couldn't say. I was fighting not to panic and run. Then they were roaring away. I watched them go; only daring to breathe when they were far enough down the street I lost sight. I was certain they had come back because of me. Luckily, they'd only looked, and then moved on. But what if they'd come after me? What could I have done? I was walking home alone. Even if I screamed would anyone have responded? The vacant driveways broadcast to the world no one was around. The warning my parents had repeated and I had ignored flashed across my mind like bright neon. I was a girl, which meant I was fair game for any male. I was smaller and weaker and had a vagina. It would only take one mistake to find myself on the bad end of a rape. It could have happened just minutes ago and it could still happen. The realization chilled me more than the crisp October breeze that tugged at my hair and clothes. I clutched my arms under my breasts to keep from shaking as I hurried down the street, wishing I was already home. I'd covered half a block when the blast from a car horn caused me to start. I spun around half expecting the bike rider again. Instead, I spotted Shelly hanging out the window of an SUV. "Want a ride?" she laughed from the front seat. "You scared the crap out of me," I said, climbing into the back. Shelly twisted around so she could face me. "I see you missed your bus. You're lucky. We don't usually go home this way. Oh, and this is my grandma," She indicated the woman driving. "Grandma, this is Alex." The lady turned to extend a beautifully manicured hand toward me. I took it, taking in her medium length gray hair and bright intelligent eyes. "It's very nice to meet you, Alex," she said. "I'm Sandra Gartman. Shelly talks about you all the time." "Thanks for stopping Ms. Gartman," I said. "Thank Shelly," she laughed. "She's the one that noticed it was you, but I'm happy to give you a lift home." "Grandma's a romance writer. We have to stop by the post office to mail her latest book to her publisher or we wouldn't have gone this way. Lucky for you, huh? By the way, you ARE going to Abby's sleepover tomorrow. We'll pick you up around 5:30 so be ready." "I don't--" I began. "No excuses Alex," Shelly said, cutting me off. "You never do anything fun. It's time that changed. Besides you owe me for the ride home." "I'll go on the condition we don't talk about you-know-who," I was pretty sure Shelly knew I neant Monica Bond. "Then you will go?" Shelly asked. "I guess," I said. "Yes!" she exclaimed. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Ms. Gartman's smile in the rear view mirror. The next morning, I climbed out of bed with pieces of my run in with Monica circling my brain like tiny gnats around rotten fruit. The episode left a bad taste in my mouth. It seemed no matter how hard I tried to put my past behind me, and move on, someone dragged me back. The good news was that other than slinging a verbal barb at me in the halls between classes, she'd pretty much played out her hand in the parking lot. Fortunately, I had something else to think about, Halloween and the sleepover. As an adolescent boy in Sacramento, girls' sleepovers were one of the two mysteries my male friends and I fantasized over. The other was why girls went to the bathroom together. I'd seen the way they portrayed sleepovers in the movies. The girls always ended up in their panties making out with each other. I couldn't imagine Shelly and the nerd twins doing anything close to that. It was more likely I would die of boredom. But I had committed myself to going and Shelly was picking me up after school. I asked my mother if she'd ever done a sleepover when I came downstairs for breakfast. "Lot's of them," she replied, scooping scrambled eggs onto plates and placing them on the table. "Why? Are you worried about tonight?" "Yeah. I want to know what you do so I won't look dumb." She paused, her eyes filled with sympathetic humor. " How would you look dumb, Honey?" "I don't know," I said, struggling to put my feelings into words. "Sometime I say or do things that makes the other girls stare at me, like ...like I did something weird. I don't want that tonight." Mom laid the spatula down and wrapped me in one of her hugs. "You'll be fine," she said. "Just be yourself." She handed me two glasses from the cabinet. "Here," she said. "Pour some juice for you and your brother. Breakfast it almost ready." I went to work with the juice, filling the glasses and setting them beside our plates of eggs and bacon. "You'll have to ride the bus by yourself this morning," Mom said as I returned the juice carton to the fridge. "I have to take Tyler to the dentist. He lost a filling last night trying to open a bottle of something with his teeth." "That's fine," I said. Tyler was always doing stupid things. "We should be home before you are but take your house key just in case." "Duh... I always take my key, Mother." She could be so anal. "Just checking," said Mom, "Tell you father and brother breakfast is ready." I watched Clarksville unwind through the window as the bus rolled along its route to school. From behind, I could feel Nathan's eyes all over me. He was manning the seat he shared with Tyler solo today. I'd found an empty seat too, though how long it would stay that way was debatable. We still had several pick-ups to make and the bus was beginning to fill up. We slowed, and then stopped. The door swung open with a slap. The Porter twins climbed aboard, shuffling past me with their bowl shaped haircuts and pimpled faces. Sarge waited until they were settled in the back and then we were off again. The bus bucking like a wild stallion as he ground through the gears. I glanced back at Nathan. As our eyes met, he twisted his head away from me, toward the window. I continued to stare; wanting to give back some of what he'd given me. But my heart wasn't in it. He was simply a lost kid trying to fit in, no different than me. I turned back to my own view of outside and the familiar houses and stores we passed every day. The last two stops were unoccupied. Either we were having a major absentee problem today or parents were driving their kids to school. I wondered if Halloween or the homecoming dance was to blame. Regardless, I was thankful not to have shared a seat as we pulled into the parking lot ahead of schedule. We inched toward the bus ramp stuck behind a line of cars and trucks dropping off their loads of mush-minds to be schooled in the ways of academia. I was following the herd down the wide walkway when I heard someone whisper my name. "Alex over here." I looked in the direction of the voice. It came from the dark puddle of shadow cast by the early morning sun backlighting the oaks near the corner of the building. "Alex." This time it was louder more of a rasp. I shielded my eyes from the glare and managed to make out a figure standing in the gloom. Curious to what was up, I angled away from the students and toward the trees. As I closed in, the foliage filtered out enough of the sun I could make out Cal half crouching in brush. He looked so comical I had to struggle not to laugh. Apparently Cal didn't share my amusement. He grabbed my arm and pulled me over so hard I stumbled and almost fell. "Hey!" I cried, jerking my arm free. "What the s--?" "Shhhhh..." he cautioned, a finger to his lips. "You're going to attract attention." He motioned for me to squat beside him. "Do you mind telling me what this is all about?" I asked after we were both crouched. I wanted this to be quick. The brush made me itch. "I could ask you the same thing," he said. "Why the hell did you send me a "friend invite" to your face book. Have you lost your mind!" For a moment I couldn't say anything. Was that what this was about? Finally, I managed to speak. "You're hiding because I wanted to be friends with you on Facebook? That makes no sense at all." "What makes no sense is you being so irresponsible as to announce we know each other to that government bunch, Alex. Did you forget they were the ones that made you a girl! And then there's Bradley. You don't think he went bonkers on his own, do you?" He looked away and swiped his eyes with a sleeve before facing me again. "I can't believe you did that, calling me out that way. I'm their next target now. I can't even sleep worrying about this shit." I didn't know whether to laugh or be angry. It pissed me off that he thought I'd sell him out. At the same time, watching him hide in the bushes like spy versus spy made me want to hoot. Pinning him with my most serious look, I ran through the short version of what my dad told me about the program's closing. I left out Frank's call, figuring that would only feed his delusions. "You would have known if you'd read the email I sent you." "Computers can be hacked, Alex." "Well." I rose to my feet. "There's no one around to hack into yours, or mine, anymore. So relax, alright." I started to walk away but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "What now?" I asked, my voice angrier than intended. "Haven't you heard of disinformation?" I glared at him. "It's too pat," he continued his words rushing out like an express train, "It's all too convenient. They spent years setting this up, perfecting this virus and who knows what else and then one little glitch and they pack up and run. I don't buy it." "Now I'm a glitch!" "You know what I mean. Anyway I think they're faking. They pretend to leave and then watch and see what happens. This way they can snuff out any liabilities that were under the radar. Like me." I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled counting down so I wouldn't blow. "Seriously Cal, you need to get a life, man " I said. "You can hide under the covers if you want but I'm not. I'm going to get on with my life, such as it is." Cal's face sagged. Some of the light left his eyes. "I guess this is good-bye then," he said. I looked at him for a long minute, studying his face. "If that's what you want, then I guess it is." Leaving him with his paranoia, I walked toward where students were filing into the building, not bothering to look back. I was almost to the double doors of the school when I heard a motorcycle's roar. I knew that sound. I spun around in time to see the biker with the mirrored visor race past. Whoever it was went to Clarksville High. The bike raced into the student parking area and then vanished behind a battered pickup. I wanted to know who had taken such an interest in me yesterday. Moving in the opposite direction as the other students, I backtracked into the parking lot, ducking into a space between cars. The spot I picked offered a good view of the school. The biker would have to pass where I hid to go inside. Students were still arriving and several noticed me hunkered down pointing me out to their friends. I did my best to wave them on; worried they would give me away. Time passed. The area in front of the school was beginning to empty. Mr. Backes, who did morning duty, was directing the remaining students inside. One of the kids that saw me said something Backes and pointed in my direction. My heart sank as Backes headed my way. He walked to the edge of the curb. Rising on up on his toes he stared down at me, a frown stamped across his face. "This might be a stupid question Miss Tetras but may I ask what you are doing?" "I lost one of my earrings," I said. "I was looking for it." He pressed his lips together and then stepped off the curb, stopping a few feet from where I stooped. "I believe you have both of your earrings in your ears," he said. "Next time, check there first. Now come inside. The bell is about to sound and you wouldn't want to be tardy." "Yes sir." As I fell in behind Mr. Backes, I wanted to cry for looking like a fool and nothing to show for it. Then, my day unexpectedly brightened, my mystery biker walked by. There was no mistaking him; he had on the brown leather jacket with the mirrored visor tucked under his arm. Mr. Backes paused to let him pass then followed after him and I took up the rear glancing around the teacher's ample form to get a better look. Though I couldn't see his face, I noticed a thick mass of curly blond hair; so pale it looked like white gold in the morning sun. He was taller than Tyler but had the same medium build. and was about my age. As he moved along, his attention fluctuated from the flagpole, to the shrubs in the heavy concrete planters; to the decorative tiles set in the walkway as if he were a newcomer. That explained why I'd never seen him before. Mr. Backes stopped short just as the kid reached the doors to the building "Something's bothering me Tetras," he said, spinning around to face me. "Your name's come up a lot in the past week among my upperclassmen. The question is why? You're a freshman, correct?" "Yes sir,' I said trying to peep around him at the new kid slipping away into the school. "That's what I thought. Now why would juniors and seniors be talking about you? I didn't listen to the conversations and I haven't asked any students what they were about. I also don't know why you were crouched in the teacher's parking lot. But I'll tell you this, young lady. Consider whatever it is you're up to. Weigh the rewards against the consequences. Just something to think about," Then he turned on his heel and strode into the lobby with quick precise steps. - I didn't steal your boyfriend- When I got into the lobby I looked for Shelly. We always met in the mornings and walked to first period together. She should have been waiting at our lockers but that spot was deserted. Then I remembered she was doing announcements today. Dealing with Cal and biker-boy, I'd forgotten. Shelly's not being there left an empty spot inside me. It was as if I were missing a part of myself like an arm or leg. Though she'd never know, (because I never intended to tell her) she'd helped me make the transition from John to Alex in those first days at school. And though I played tough girl, without my friend I really wasn't. "Hey there. Do you know where I can find room E 4?" The voice, from out of nowhere, startled me and I fumbled the combination on my lock. "What the shit!" I whirled around, ready to lash out at the bastard and then froze. I couldn't believe what I saw. There he was, the kid on the motorcycle standing beside me. He was waving a class schedule like a white flag. His blond curly hair added even more youthfulness to his already boyish face, the kind that ten years from now he'd still look in his teens. He studied me with blue eyes so pale they looked almost gray. "Hey! I know you," he exclaimed. His face beamed with a sort of pride. "You're the girl from yesterday. You were walking a couple of blocks from here after school." "And I know you," I said. "You were the jerk on the motorcycle." His eyes flickered with surprise. I wanted to inflect embarrassment and I'd scored. "Excuse me?" "You passed me twice," I said spelling things out. "The second time you practically undressed me with your eyes. I thought you were a fucking pervert." "I didn't mean to scare you," he said doing this awkward shuffle. "There was something familiar about you. I...I... I had to double back ...I never thought I'd see you again." "Look, I'm sorry," he said turning his blue-gray eyes on me again so they almost swallowed me, "About yesterday I mean. I was rude and I apologize." "It's okay," I looked away wishing Shelly were here. There was something about him I found oddly attractive though couldn't say why. I mean he was a fucking boy. I shifted my attention to my locker. Acutely aware of his presence, I focused on working the combination, anything to keep from looking at him. I could feel his eyes on me and my pulse began to accelerate in a sort of panic, my mind gushing with possibilities of where this might be going. It was like John and Monica in reverse except now I was Monica and I was finding John a turn on even though I hated him. The thought freaked me out so badly I fumbled the latch slamming my locker door closed again. "Damn!" I slammed my hand hard against the metal door. "Are you all right?" He asked leaning over. I felt his breath on my cheek. The closeness excited and terrified me. What the hell was happening? I stepped to the side, putting space between us. "Yeah," I said. "I'm just clumsy today. Exactly what is it you need?" "E 4... Mrs. Gandy... I have her first period. This is my first day here and I'm trying to find my classrooms." "Your room is a couple of doors down from mine," I said, hoping to defuse things by getting him to where he needed to go and away from me. "I have Ms. Boyd in E 2. Just let me get my books." I loaded my book bag and slipped it on. We'd only taken a few steps when the first bell rang. The near empty hall began to swell with warm bodies, forcing us closer together than I wanted. I darted forward, squeezing between a boy and a girl, breaking off their conversation, earning me nasty stares. But it forced biker-boy to follow behind. "This is E4," I said thankful we were there. I pointed to the small brown haired woman in the faded dress arranging items on her desk at the front of the room. "That's Mrs. Gandy. She's nice but she's tough." "Good luck," I said turning to go. He caught my arm and pulled me back. I stared at the hand on my arm and then at him. "Sorry," he said releasing me, embarrassed "It's just I didn't want you to leave with out saying thank you." He extended his hand. "Austin Mayer," he said smiling. Like the rest of his features, the smile was all boyish innocence. I hesitated not sure of what to do. Austin waited; hand outstretched, those blue-gray eyes beaming like LED headlights. "Alex Tetras," I said, extending my own hand, hoping this would end things. We shook and then I had my hand back, clasping it with the other to hide its trembling. "See you again?" he asked. "I...I don't know," I said. "Look, I've got to go." "Thanks again," he called, as I hurried away. I changed into my classroom and dropped into my seat, so shaken I had to grip the edges of my desk to regain control. Emotions I didn't understand churned inside me. I promised myself I would avoid Mr. Austin Mayer at all costs from now on. "He probably thought you were cute, Alex, and he came back to get a better look," said Shelly. We were in the lunch line waiting our turn to be served spaghetti and mystery-meat balls. "You are pretty. And you know how boys like to look at pretty girls. But if it creeped you out, why did you walk to class with him?" "I didn't walk with him, I showed him his classroom. There's a difference," I'd given Shelly a brief run down of yesterday and this morning, careful to leave out the heart palpitations and feelings bordering on sexual arousal. Shelly cocked her head nailing me with one of her "I-wasn't-born- yesterday-so-don't- even- go-there" looks. "I know you pretty well Alex and I think there's something you're not telling me." I rolled my eyes in exaggerated exasperation (my own pet facial expression). "And what might that be?" I said in my best nonchalant tone. "I think you like him." Her comment took me by surprise. I stiffened, then forced myself to relax, hoping she hadn't noticed. "That's stupid," I said. " If you knew me as well as you think, then you'd know I don't like boys. Actually, I think I might be a lesbian." "I do know you Alex Tetras. You play like you hate boys, but you don't. I think you like him, at least a little. Otherwise you wouldn't have walked him to class and you wouldn't be talking about it now." "Believe what you want," I said, Shelly was beginning to irritate me "It's true," Shelly said, refusing to give up. "And I know why you won't admit it." ""Why." "Because you had to leave your old school and friends to come here. You try to act tough to compensate for the insecurity you feel. That's why you act so boyish all the time." "I don't act boyish," I said. Though I did secretly covet boy things like Tyler's jacket, it bothered me Shelly saw me that way. "Yes, you do. All you ever wear is skinny jeans and those pullover shirts, and the same old hairs style..." she made a gesture with her hands. "I like my jeans and pullovers," I countered. "What-ev-er," Shelly tossed off my reply with a wave. "Oh, by the way. We're bringing our dresses for the dance to the sleepover. This way we can decide how to do our hair and makeup. Abby wants you to bring the blue one from Just Girls." "There's no point bringing mine," I said, " I'm not going to the dance. And besides, we're doing Halloween stuff. We're supposed to make popcorn balls and watch scary movies." "See that's exactly what I'm talking about," She paused as cafeteria worker plopped limp noodles and lopsided balls of bogus meat on our trays. "It just proves I'm right." "Right about what?" "Not wanting to bring your dress to Abby's. You're afraid if anyone sees you in it you'll look too girly. That's why you won't go to the dance. You'd have to wear a dress." "I wear dresses sometimes," I said. "I've never seen you wear one," Shelly countered. "So, a lot of people haven't. It doesn't mean I don't wear them." "It's all right, Alex. You don't have to pretend anymore. You have friends now." I sighed, Shelly had watched one too many Dr. Phil's. "Look," I said, "If I bring my stupid dress to Abby's will you promise to drop all this psychological bullshit?" "I'm just trying to be a friend, Alex," Shelly said matter of fact. "Friends care about each other." "Pleeeaseeee?" I was desperate. Otherwise, I would have to kill her. "Only if you promise to loosen up and not be such a tomboy all the time." "Fine." "That's him," I whispered to Shelly. We were sitting at out table waiting each other out to see who'd brave the pseudo spaghetti first. "The one from this morning?" Shelly asked, her voice low. I nodded. "What's going on?" Abby asked, leaning forward. "A boy hit on Alex this morning," Shelly whispered. "He's over there." She pointed to where Austin Mayer stood at the cashier station holding his tray, looking confused. His head swiveled left then right like an old style radar dish, searching for a place to sit. "He's cute," Abby said. "Yeah, he is," Shelly, agreed. Austin spotted us and waved. Shelly waved back. His mouth formed a broad smile as he ambled our way. "Hi Alex and ladies," he said, hovering over me like a police helicopter over a fugitive. "Do you mind?" He dropped into the seat next to me before I could say I did. "Thanks," he continued. "This place is full." "Yeah, it does that at lunch time," I said dryly. "You're not going to introduce us?" said Shelly. She was enjoying this way too much. "I'm Alex's friend, Shelly. And this is Abby." Austin nodded and then turned back to me, ignoring the others. "So what's with Clarksville and Halloween?" he asked. "At my old school everybody would be wearing costumes today." I shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I just moved here." "We do Halloween," Abby offered, wedging back into the conversation. "It's just most of the kids are more interested in the Homecoming dance on Friday. The mall is doing something tonight though, bobbing for apples and stuff." "That might be fun," Austin said, "What do you say Alex, want to go?" "I'm going to a sleepover," I said. "Oh," Austin's face drooped. "Well, maybe next time." "I don't know, maybe," I replied matter of fact. Austin looked unsure of what say. I pretended to take an interest in my food, not glancing his way again. Finally he shoved his chair back and stood. "I've got to go," he said picking up his untouched tray. "Later." I didn't bother to answer. "You absolutely crushed him Alex," Abby said after he left. 'You could have been nicer." "Are you serious? I don't even know him. I met him for the first time this morning. Now, he's acting like we're old friends." "I still feel bad for him," Abby said. "Then you go to the mall with him," I said. Some people just didn't get it. -I'll sleep when I'm dead- When I got home I noticed Mom left me an overnight bag on my bed. It was one we'd used for trips to my grandmother's when I was little. Seeing it stirred memories of good times when the world was a simpler place. Back then; every morning was an adventure waiting to happen just by stepping outside into the sunlight. I sighed. Things had changed. Even taking a breath seemed complicated nowadays and meeting Austin made it worse. Why was I thinking about him, damnit! He was a fucking boy. I pushed the thought away and rummaged through my drawers for stuff I'd need for tonight. I picked out a bra and panties, then pulled out the nighties Mom bought me in an attempt to get me out of sleeping in John's old tee shirts. The nighties were still in their cellophane wrappers. I chose the blue one with white sleeves, slipped it out of its package, and placed it next to my underwear on the bed. I added a pair of jeans and a top for school, tomorrow. (Shelly would bitch about the jeans but who cared.) Then I finished with the blue dress, reluctantly lifting it off the rod in the closet, laying it next to my other things. Everything went into the bag except the dress. I left it on its hanger so not to wrinkle the fabric. Then I called to tell Shelly I was ready. Mom and Tyler walked through the door as I was carrying my things down stairs. Mom saw the dress dangling from my hand. "You're taking that?" "Yeah," I said. "Abby had this idea to bring our dresses for the dance so we can decided how we'll accessorize. You know hair, makeup and whatever. I think it's stupid but I promised I'd go along." "You might find it's fun," said Mom. "I doubt it." A horn blared from outside. I peeped out the door. Shelly spotted me from the car and waved. "That's my ride," I said. "And you're getting to school tomorrow, how?" Mom quizzed. I sighed. We'd gone over this before. "Abby's mom is taking us. I told you." "I just want to make sure," Mom said. "What about your overnight clothes. Are you going to take them to school too. That's a lot to carry." "I'll figure it out," I said as the horn blew again. "Look I've got to go. Shelly is getting impatient. Tell Dad I'm sorry I missed him. " Mom kissed me on the cheek. "Have fun," she said. Then I was out the door. Abby's house was one of those modern two-stories where the lower half is brick and the upper half wood. The front porch was made up to look like the interior of a witch's cottage. A tablecloth, mimicking cobweb, covered an old wooden table with a plastic crystal ball encasing a rubber skull in its center. A cauldron also made of plastic sat beside it filled with candy. Old bed sheets hung from the ceiling forming "walls". Carved pumpkins lit with candles finished off the set. Abby's mom, wearing a pointed witch's hat, was passing out candy when we pulled into the driveway. Three young children, dressed as ghosts waited to be served, their trick or treat bags opened dutifully, their parents watching from the yard. We waited until the distribution of sweets was done to exit the car with our baggage. "Hi girls," Abby's mom called from the porch as the little kids filed out of the yard, following their parents to the house across the street. "Hi, Mrs. Nunley," Shelly chirped happily. "Hello Shelly. And you must be Alex." The woman smiled warmly my way. "Abby and Brett are in the kitchen. Just put your things in Abby's room. Shelly knows where." I followed Shelly into the house and upstairs. "Wait till you see Abby's room, Alex," she said. "It is so awesome." She led me down the hall. When she reached the last door on the right she opened it and we stepped inside. Abby's bedroom was twice the size of mine. A white four-poster bed covered with a thick comforter stood in the middle of the room topped with a cluster of thick colorful pillows at the head. A white hope chest sat at the foot. Thick throw rugs dyed in various shades of lavender were scattered over the polished hardwood floor. A cross the room, a pink laptop on a white, vanity style desk sat against a window hung with purple drapes. There was also a white dresser, with a small mirror mounted on top that stood against the opposite wall. Next to the dresser, a combination bookcase and cubby held a dozen books, a flat screen television, DVD player, stuffed animals and dolls. Two large ottomans finished things off "What did I tell you," Shelly said, noting my reaction to the room. "Isn't this sick." "It's pretty rad," I replied, my head reeling from the sheer abundance of stuff. "We can leave our stuff on the bed for now," Shelly said, dropping her bag on the thick comforter then carefully laying her dress beside it. I put my bag down then spread out the blue dress. "I guess we need to go down and help Abby and Brett," I said. "Wait," said Shelly grabbing my arm. "Don't you want to hear my news?" "What news?" I asked. "Well... I got to thinking about that new boy, Austin and how he just showed up in Clarksville. So I did some checking on the school computer." "And....?" "He's here with his dad." "So?" I hated it when Shelly started something and then left me hanging. "They moved here after his Mom died last year." "His mom died," I said. "Wow! I feel bad about how I talked to him, now." "Then you should feel twice as bad for me, Shelly said. "My parents died when I was four. They were killed in a car wreck. That's why I live with my grandmother." "I'm sorry," I said. "You never told me." " It's cool, I was really small. I barely remember them. Anyway, this is the weird thing. There was an "alert" by his name. "An alert. What's an alert?" "It's this little tag. When you type in a students name, like to get their schedule or who to contact if their sick, sometimes there's a little dialogue bubble. It looks like a balloon with a little--" "I know what a dialogue bubble is Shelly. Comic books use them." "Sorry...anyway you click on the icon and an alert pops up like ' do not release student to anyone but a relative' stuff like that." "What did Austin's say?" "That's what I'm trying to tell you. This one said his mother's death was confidential and no one was allowed to ask him about it or why he and his father moved here." "Maybe it was just really painful for him in his old town so they left." "I don't think so. They only use alerts when it's something big. Maybe it was good you turned him down. He might be trouble." The door opened and Brett stuck her head in the room. "Hey, you guy's coming to help with the popcorn balls or what?" "Yeah, sure," I said, happy to not talk about Austin anymore. Following Brett to the kitchen gave me the chance to scope out the rest of Abby's house. Like her bedroom, all the furnishings in the Nunley house bordered on extreme luxury. Hardwood floors were covered with expensive Persian rugs; the chairs and sofa covered with rich upholstery. Paintings in heavy frames hung beside family portraits. Except for the shots of family, the place seemed more of a showcase for high-end furniture than a home. It was no surprise that the kitchen was state of the art fancy, filled with stainless steel appliances, all of them burnished to a satin finish. Abby had stationed herself at the large range top monitoring a multi gallon pot. Popping sounds emitting from within pinged against the lid. A double boiler on a nearby burner was melting caramel. "We're almost ready," said Abby. " There's a stick of butter for your hands on the table. "Have you ever made popcorn balls?" Shelly asked. When I admitted I hadn't she ran me through the process. "Just do what I do," she said. I followed her to the breakfast table where a butter dish holding a stick of margarine rested next to two large, empty bowls. Shelly picked up the margarine and coated her palms. Then she passed it to me. "It keeps stuff from sticking to you," she said as I slathered my hands with the stuff. "Ready or not, here we come," called Abby, lugging the big pot toward us, big, jelly-bean purple oven mitts on her hands. She dumped popcorn into the bowls and Brett followed with the caramel, pouring it over the fluffy white kernels. "Grab a handful and form it into a ball," Shelly instructed. "Ow! It's hot!" I laughed. This was fun. "You have to keep your hands in motion," Shelly instructed, "To keep the caramel from burning your skin." "Like this," Brett said. She patted her popcorn ball, then tossed it into the air, catching, patting, and then tossing it again over and over until it was round. Pretty soon she had us all doing it, all of us giggling and squealing like little kids. Abby found a tray and covered it with wax paper to put our creations on. "There's cokes and bags of snacks in the pantry," she said when we finished. "Everybody carry something." Our little posse trudged up the stairs, Brett with the tray of popcorn balls, me lugging two large bottles of coke, Shelly and Abby with a grocery sack each, filled with comfort food. When we reached out destination, Abby produced plastic cups from her bag and we took turns pouring ourselves a drink while Brett dumped the snacks onto one of the throw rugs. With the food bounty spread before us, we dropped cross-legged onto the rug, surrounding the goodies, and began feeding our faces like a kettle of hungry vultures. " I love sleepovers," Brett cried, her mouth crammed full of potato chips. "No boys, so you can eat like a pig." "Speaking of boys, you wouldn't believe how hot this new guy at school is," Abby said to Brett. "He asked Alex to go to the mall with him tonight but she turned him down." "Why?" Brett asked. "Uh...Because I was coming here... to the sleepover...duh." "He was pretty dreamy," Abby said. "If he had asked me ...well." "Can we talk about something else?" I needed to move the conversation away from Austin. "Whoa, somebody's touchy," Brett, laughed. " Did everyone bring a dress?" Abby said, seeing my irritation building. "Ours are on your bed," said Shelly. She was pinching off pieces of popcorn ball and popping them in her mouth. "Alex brought the blue one... like you waannnntt-tteeed," She half sang the word, and then grinned. "Seriously, Alex?" Brett squealed, "The one you stole from Brooke?" "Would you stop saying that. I didn't steal it. I bought it before she could that's all." "And here it is," said Shelly. She'd skipped over to the bed. Taking my dress in her hands she held it out for Brett and Abby to see. "Oh man, its beautiful," Abby's words were slurred, as if seeing it had somehow intoxicated her. She snatched the dress from Shelly, and ran to the mirror where she draped it in front of her "Dude," she said, striking a pose, "You've got to wear this to the dance." "It's just a dress," I said, taking it away from her, carrying it back. "It's not a big deal." "That's where your wrong, Alex," Brett said. She'd returned to the pig- out rug and was struggling to open a bag of Cheetos. "That dress is a historical moment." "How?" "It's the first time in the history of the world Brooke Simmons didn't get her way," The other three girls laughed. I smiled, though I didn't find it particularly funny. "I'm serious Alex. You've got to wear it Friday night," said Abby. "Yeah," I said. "Well, don't hold your breath waiting. I'm not going to the dance" "I don't understand you at all, Alex Tetras," Abby's voice held an edge. "Every girl in Clarksville would kill to have a dress that nice and you're not going to show it off?" "I'm not every girl," I said "Actually, I'm sorry I even brought it tonight." "Okay guys," Shelly said. "Sheath you claws. This is supposed to be a party, remember." "It's Halloween," said Brett her eyes flicking toward the ceiling then at us. "So... lets play some pranks. You know put some tricks in trick or treat." Shelly clasped her hands together, her face glowing with excitement. "Like what?" "How about some phone pranks? We can use speakerphone so everyone can hear." "There's a problem," I said, " Caller I.D. Whoever we call will see our phone number." "You can block caller I.D.," said Shelly, "Just punch in * 67. " "Yeah, but that will come up with caller unknown," said Abby. "That's going to tip off people that something's up. Besides some people won't answer calls where the number is blocked. My parents won't." "Hey guys, have a little faith," said Brett. "I wouldn't have suggested phone pranking if I didn't have this," She flashed what looked like a credit card at us. "What is that? " Abby asked. "A genuine spoof card. I got it off the internet," Brett said, proudly. " Bill collectors and private-eyes use them to hide their identities. You punch in this code and you can make your number look like any number you want. I remembered the calls I'd got from Frank. I at first I thought it was my brother and Nathan playing a joke. It was only after the second call I discovered Frank had manipulated the caller I D to make it look like Tyler. I wondered how he pulled it off. From what my dad told me, he was working on his own. That meant he hadn't had access to the Agency's technology. Now I knew how he did it. He had a spoof card. They'd shipped him off before I found out what he wanted. "Alex! Are you even listening?" "Huh." I'd been lost in my thoughts. "I asked you if you wanted to phone prank someone," Brett repeated. "Sure," I said though my heart wasn't in it. It reminded me too much of Frank. "Well, get over here," Brett gave me an annoyed look. I took my place on the rug. "We'll use my phone. It's already programmed," Brett said. She pulled a sparkly pink phone from her purse and laid it between us. "Now, who can we call?" "Let's prank someone from school," Shelly suggested. "Like Coach Wiggins. She's always bitchy to us. " "The teachers numbers are confidential, " Brett said. "There's no way to get them." "There is if you work in the office," Shelly plucked a folded sheet of paper from her purse and handed it to Brett. "Check this out." Brett unfolded it and her eyes widened. "O-M-G," she gasped. "You guys are not going to believe this. She has every teacher's number in the entire school including Principal Daily." Abby laughed. "This should be fun." "Let's make this interesting," Brett said. "What if....hmmm... She thought it was fat old Mr. Backes calling her. You've seen the way she looks at him in the halls." "That is wicked," said Abby, "but she's going to know you're not a guy the minute you say something." "Not necessarily," Brett said. "One of the features is voice over. You can sound like somebody else." Brett touched the screen in several places and then studied what she'd done "Okay guys, I'm about to call. Everybody be quiet," There were a series of tones as she punched in Coach Wiggins's number. We waited, the only sound, the phone ringing on the other end. After a moment Coach Wiggins's raspy voice broke over the speaker. "What?" She barked. The response was so sudden all of us froze. It was as if the woman could see us sitting guiltily in our conspirator's circle playing our prank. Brett sat rigid as the rest of us, unable or unwilling to speak. "I know it's you Arty," said coach Wiggins, "I'm looking at your damned number on my phone. You might as well say something." "Oh," said Brett, "Uh...Hi" "Are you drunk Arty? You don't sound like yourself/" I giggled. This was funny. Brett put a finger to her lips signaling me to be quiet. "No, I'm not drunk," She said getting her game on. " I just wanted to say heeelllllooooowwwwww." "I don't know what's going on Arthur but it's not funny. Is someone with you? I heard a laugh. It sounded female." "I ju--" "I warned you about your drinking. We'll talk about this tomorrow. Goodbye!" The phone went dead. "Gawd! That was great," said Abby. Her face glowed with excitement. "She totally fell for it." "I think Arty and Coach Wiggins have something go-ing," Said Shelly, she stressed the word, her eyes bright. "Wow," said Abby. "All this time I thought she was a lesbian." We all laughed. "Call somebody else," Shelly said. I waited while Brett scanned the list of numbers. Until tonight, I'd thought of Shelly, Abby and Brett as nerds. They were okay to eat lunch with or sit beside on the bleachers during PE but that was about it. Of course I hadn't been any different as John. I'd lived mostly vicariously through comic books. It wasn't until I became Alex that I'd changed, developing the hard-ass fa?ade of a tough loner girl whose motto was "I don't give a fuck". But tonight the other girls showed me they could have fun and I was having fun too. I was among people who wanted to be with me simply because they liked me. But more importantly, I liked them back. "Your turn," Brett said surprising Abby, handing her the phone. Abby gaped at the thing as if she'd never seen one. "How do I set everything?" "I did it all for you," said Brett. "All you have to do is call somebody." Abby picked Ms. Boyd, and punched in her number There was a pause then the phone rang. "Relax," Brett said. "It's just a phone call Abs." Ms. Boyd's picked up on the second ring. "Hello?" "Is your refrigerator running," said Abby, blurting the words so quickly they were almost impossible to understand. "Who is this?" Ms. Boyd asked, a hint of humor in her voice. "You better go catch it," Abby said then tossed the phone at Brett. Brett snatched it out of the air two-handed, the voice on the other end still squawking until she broke the connection. We all fell over laughing "You did that wrong," Shelly said after, we caught our breath. " When you ask if their refrigerator is running you wait until they say yes to tell them to catch it." "I got nervous," Abby, said, which earned another round of laughter. "You do one, Shelly," said Brett. "Yeah," I agreed. I thought this would be great pay back for her calling me boyish at lunch. "Only if Alex does one too," Shelly bartered. "You first," I said, putting off my turn until I could find a way out of it. "Who can I call?" Shelly asked. "How about Principal Daily," Abby suggested. Shelly thought for a moment. "What'll I say? I don't know any jokes." "Tell him you're doing a survey," said Brett. "Ask him what color his pants are and if he owns any plaid shirts, whether he wears boxers or briefs. Stuff like that. See how long you can keep him going. We'll time you." "I'll try," Shelly, said, her voice unsure. She punched in Principal Daily's number. "James Daily." "Uh...Yes," said Shelly. "We're taking a survey of Clarksville residents and were wondering if you'd be willing to participate. This will only take a few minutes of your time and..." "Of course," said Mr. Daily. "I'll be happy to." "Uh,,, the first question is what color pants are you wearing?" "What kind of survey did you say this was?" Asked the principal. "Cultural preferences," said Shelly. "We're trying to identify what's vogue and stuff like that." "Oh, I see. You must be with the university." "Why, yes I am," Shelly winked at me. I gave her a thumb's up. "What was the question? Oh yes, what color are my pants. Hmmm...how would I describe them... they're an olive color .,.uh olive gray I'd say." "Do you own any plaid shirts? And if you do how many." "I have a few. Do I need to count them?" "Yes," she said. "They're in the bedroom closet." He sighed loudly. "This will take a moment. I'll have to put the phone down." There was a thunk then static. "What do I do now?" Shelly asked, covering the phone with her hand. She looked freaked. "Ask him about his underwear," Brett said. Abby and I fought not to laugh. "You're doing great," I giggled. "I hope you're enjoying this Alex," Shelly said, "Because you're next. And don't think you're going to talk your way out of it either!" "Hello?" Principal Daily's muffled voice spoke through the phone. "Are you there? I have five plaid shirts. Hello?" All of us were rolling on the floor, hands clamped over our mouths, except for Shelly. She stared at us with virtual daggers shooting from her eyes. All of them aimed at our hearts with the intent to kill. "Say something," Brett whispered. "You're going to blow it." "I can't," said Shelly. "He's the principal. What if he finds out it's me? They won't let me work in the office anymore." "Give me," Brett said, snatching the phone out of Shelly's hand. "Hello?" "I'm sorry," said Brett," The person doing the survey was unexpectedly called away. I'm her replacement..." I didn't hear the rest because the bedroom door opened and Mrs. Nunley motioned me into the hall, closing the door behind us. She spoke to me in a low voice and then gave me a hug. "You missed the best part," Shelly said when I stepped back into Abby's room. "Brett had Mr. Daily answering all kinds of stupid questions including about his underwear. He wears briefs. Can you believe it!" "Dude you look like you saw a ghost," said Brett. The ballsy attitude she'd shown pranking was gone. Now she was the old Brett, about as ballsy as a dust mite. "What's the matter," Shelly asked, picking up on the vib. "My dad was in a wreck. He was on his way home from work when somebody cut him off. His car flipped over twice. They took him to the hospital in Pine Grove. Mom's coming to get me." "You sit," Shelly said leading me to the bed. "I'll get your things for you." I watched Shelly gather my stuff though a heavy fog where everything was reduced to gray. When she finished, she sat beside me holding my hand though I was scarcely aware of her. Then we were all waiting for my mother, the party pretty much blown. Abby and Brett traded furtive glances while Shelly patted my hand and I fought not to cry. Mom was sitting in one of the lavishly ornate chairs, across from Mrs. Nunley, when I came downstairs. She looked out of place in her plain print dress, but more than that, I saw the haunted look in her eyes, a mixture of confusion and fear. She stood up, when she saw me and I ran to her. We clung to each other as I breathed in her scent, soap and Wind Song perfume. "If there's anything I can do..." Mrs. Nunley said. "Thank you," Mom said. "But I think I've got things sorted out. All that's left is to make arrangements for Alex to stay with someone while I'm at the hospital with Steve." "Stay with someone!" I cried. "No way. I want to see my dad." Mom gripped me by my shoulders holding me at arms length. "Baby, you father's in ICU. Even I can't see him until his condition stabilizes. I'll be sleeping at the hospital on a cot. You have school." "I can't concentrate on school when my dad's hurt, so why can't I go with you?" "That's enough, Alex!" Mom said, her voice sharp. She turned to Mrs. Nunley and offered her hand. "Thank you again for your kind offer. We need to get going. I have to get Alex packed and settled somewhere. I still have to drive to Pine Grove." "She can stay with me and Grandma," Shelly offered from behind me. I hadn't been aware she was there. "Are you sure?" Mom asked. "Will this be okay with your grandmother?" "Yeah," Shelly replied. "I've tried to talk Alex into a weekend sleepover a dozen times. She keeps saying no." She looked at me her face sober. "Now you don't have a choice." On the ride over Shelly called her grandmother then handed the phone to Mom. The two women spoke briefly. "Mrs. Gartman said having you stay over would be fine," Mom, said when she was done. "You'll even have your own room." "That's supposed to make me feel better, having my own room?" "No. But I think you should be appreciative that you have Shelly as a friend and that her grandmother is going out of her way to make you comfortable." When my mother was right, she was right. I turned around and leaned over my seat. Shelly scooted forward and we hugged. "Thanks," I said. She smiled, "Not a prob, dude. Anything for my BFF." Shelly surveyed my room in silent contemplation. "Dude, she said, (she'd been using that word a lot, lately), "This place needs a serious makeover. It's like a boy's room or something." "This was my brother's room," I said. "I kind of inherited it." "Your brother's?" "It's a long story," I said, not wanting to go there right now. "Help me get packed." I had no idea how long I would have to stay with Shelly. It might be days or weeks. I took a breath and focused on packing panties and bras in the overnight bag I'd used for the sleepover. I handed Shelly the suitcase Mom dug out of their closet. It was the one Dad had used when he attended out of town conferences as a professor. A tag dangled from the handle with the words "Property of Dr. Stephen Tetras". Seeing his name made me want to cry. "My jeans and shirts are in the closet," I said. "Fit as many in here as you can. I'm going to collect my toothpaste and stuff." Having Shelly pack for me was asking for trouble, her fashion sense was zero, but tonight I didn't have the heart to do it myself. Every time I looked at my dad's suitcase I wanted to break down in tears. Besides, most of my jeans matched most of my tops so she couldn't fuck things up that much, could she? And even if she did, who cared. I returned with baggies filled with toiletries to find Shelly sitting on the bed the suitcase on the floor beside her. "Ready?" She asked. "As much as I'll ever be." "Gawd, Alex. You make is sound like you're going to your doom. I'm sorry spending a few days with me is so awful." "That's not what I meant," I said. "It's just that--" She hugged me before I could finish. "I know what you meant," she said. "I've got a feeling your dad is going to be fine. Come on, your mom is waiting. We need to go." -The enemy god dances with the evil spirits- Even though Shelly's grandmother provided me with a super comfortable room, including a queen size bed and my own bathroom and shower stall, I couldn't sleep. I got up the next morning worried about my dad and short tempered from lack of sleep. The good news was I didn't have to ride the bus. Shelly's grandmother drove her to school and since I was staying with them she was my ride too. Mrs. Gartman was fluttering around the kitchen when I walked in. She handed me a bowl and a spoon. "Cereal all right for breakfast?" "Yes ma'am," It seemed like every older woman spent her time on kitchen detail. I wondered if, one day, this would happen to me. Mrs. Gartman showed me the assortment of cereals on hand. I searched the ones that were open, settling on Rice Checks. I poured some in my bowl, added milk, then sat down at the table to eat. Shelly appeared a few minutes later wearing a lime green pleated skirt, orange tights and a matching orange pull over sweater. I thought she looked like a pumpkin. I was still in the blue nightie I'd packed for the slumber party. She walked by tossing me a smile as she passed. I heard the rattle of cereal being poured then she reappeared with her own bowl filled with Fruit Loops. "You're not dressed?" she asked. "Not yet," I said, "The only thing in the suitcase were skirts and dresses. Where are my jeans?" "We had an agreement, remember. You were going to be less of a tomboy. So...I only packed skirts and dresses." "You what!" "Is everything all right girls?" Ms. Gartman scrutinized us through the kitchen door. "Everything's fine, Grandma," Shelly said. "Isn't it, Alex." "Yeah, everything's just dandy." "You're sure?" She hesitated waiting until we put on our smiley faces to disappear back to what she'd been doing. I sighed. "I guess I'll have to wear my jeans from yesterday." "Uh... That might be a problem." "How? They're not dirty." "That's not what I meant," said Shelly, her voice contrite. "I kinda put them in the washing machine this morning. They're wet. You'll have to wear one of your skirts to school." I glared at Shelly debating on whether or not to strangle her right then and there. Then I sighed. It was my own fault for leaving her in change of my clothes unsupervised. I wondered if I could talk Mrs. Gartman into taking me by my house after school to swap out clothes. If I could, I might let Shelly live. As for today, I'd have to make the best of it. As we ate, I wondered how Tyler had fared the night. He was staying with Nathan. Though dating Brooke strained their relationship and Nathan's crush on me hadn't helped, the two managed to remain friends. I thought of Nathan's lingering stares at me every morning on the bus. At least I wouldn't have to endure that today. Ms. Gartman was taking us. I finished my cereal, rinsed my bowl and put it in the dish drainer. Then I went to my room to search for something to wear. I chose the blue jean skirt I'd gotten from Just Girl's and never worn. It had Levi style seams and rivets and a very boyish fly in the front. Instead of a hem, the bottom was stylishly uneven and frayed. I thought it was cool. I chose a pair of three-quarter length tights to wear under the skirt, paired with horizontally rainbow striped socks and hi-tops. I finished things off with a pink top that carried the message "I fight like a girl" in white letters across the front. Checking myself out in the mirror, I decided my choices weren't that bad. I grabbed my book bag and followed Shelly and Ms. Gratman to the car. As I stepped outside, I drank in air overflowing with the fragrance of the countryside. The crisp smells of autumn, untainted with pollution was something I'd never experienced in Sacramento, and I never tired of it. I even found myself smiling as we trucked along. We pulled up to the school just before the first warning bell rang. It was more a drone than a ring and its long whaaaahhh stretched across the schoolyard like elastic. Shelly and I scooped up our book bags and hurried toward the building, waving a hasty goodbye to Mrs. Gartman as we ran. We squeezed through the press in the doorway and then let the current carry us to our lockers. One of the things I missed most about being John was height. As John I'd been fairly tall but as Alex I was just over five feet. When the halls filled with students, ninety-nine percent of them towered over me. The effect was scary claustrophobic and today was no exception. We broke free of the horde, sucking in deep breaths of relief. Until, that is, I saw what waited for me. A plastic shopping bag dangled suspiciously from the combination lock on my locker, the handles of the bag were threaded through the shackle and tied. The Clarksville Mall logo, a capital C M inside a square topped with a simplified bow, was printed on the white plastic. I studied the thing wondering if it were some kind of practical joke and Brooke had set me up, like an exploding cigar or a fake can of peanut brittle filled with springy, wormy things that jump out at you when you open the lid. I crept toward it expecting a bucket of water or something more nefarious to pour down on me but when I reached my locker and nothing bad happened, curiosity kicked in. I stretched out a tentative hand and still no reaction. The bag continued to droop serenely from where it was attached to my lock. "Why are you being such a scaredy cat, Alex?" Shelly complained. "See what's in it." "Never mind, I'll do it," She said when I didn't move. She pushed past me and began working the bag loose from my lock. Then she peered inside. "What's in there?" I asked. She looked at me with a baffled expression. "A teddy bear." The label identified it as "Biker Bear," It was dressed in a motorcycle styled jacket with a tiny red bandana around its fuzzy head and a mock motorcycle chain bracelet around one arm. I fell in love with it the minute I saw it. "It' so cute" I told Shelly. "I wonder who's it from?" "This might be a clue," Shelly said, passing me a folded square of paper. "It was in the bag with the bear. Unable to concentrate on the lesson, I whispered to Ms. Boyd I was having my period and needed to visit the restroom. One of the perks of being a girl was that people rarely questioned the monthly visitor excuse, even when it wasn't true. The fact I was in a skirt hadn't hurt either. Ms. Boyd took one look at my outfit and scribbled out a pass. I perched on the toilet in the girls' bathroom fretting about what to do. Looking for a solution, I slipped the note from my jacket pocket and read it for a second time. Dear Alex, I was really upset when you told me you had other plans for last night. You're the prettiest girl I've ever met and all I wanted was to spend some time with you. I hope I didn't blow my chances by coming on too strong yesterday. You looked mad and I felt really low the rest of the day. I really am a nice guy. If you would give me a chance you would see that. Please don't tell anybody but my mother died last year. My mother and I were very close and since then I've been sort of depressed. My dad moved here to try to get me out of my depression but it only made it worse. Then saw you walking home and I thought if I could meet a girl like that I would have a reason to keep going. You can imagine how I felt when the girl I asked for help finding my room turned out to be you. But then at lunch you acted like you didn't want anything to do with me. I went to the mall last night by myself after you said you wouldn't go with me. While I was there I saw this little teddy bear dressed like a biker I thought you'd like so I bought it for you. Maybe when you see it you'll think of me. You might even consider going to the dance with me on Friday. It could just be as friends. You wouldn't even have to dance with me. I just don't want to go alone. I won't take up anymore of your time. I hope you like your gift. I'll be at the table in the back of cafeteria during lunch (the one no one sits at) if you want to talk. Your friend (hope you are mine), Austin. "Shit," I muttered, shoving the note back in my jacket. With everything going on including my dad in the hospital. The last thing I needed was a relationship with a boy. Plus boys had dicks, a fact that both disgusted and terrified me. I had one but my memories of it were jumbled. I could remember being a boy - I hadn't been a girl that long - but all my reference points were missing. I was a different now. I experienced things in a differently; my thought processes were different. When I called up a John memory it was difficult to make sense of it. The memory was there but I couldn't relate to it. It was like trying to tie something to empty air. Austin said he only wanted to be friends but how many times had I heard that. To be more correct how many times had I used that line as John, trying to get into some girl's pants--a lot. But even if his intentions were honorable I didn't want a relationship on any level with anyone. I wasn't ready for it. I was still unsure of who I was. Until I understood myself better, I didn't need someone (especially a male) complicating things. Another problem was emotions. One of the things I'd learned as a girl was how much our gender was controlled by them. If someone tapped into that emotional stream, they could convince us to do most anything. Austin was doing a pretty good job. I was already feeling the beginning throes of helplessness to give into him. If I weren't careful I'd do something stupid. I decided to avoid Austin until I could get a handle on my feelings. It wasn't like I owed him anything. Until I knew my dad would be okay, everything was on hold anyway. I'd also enlist Shelly's aid as a precaution to help me keep my head straight. I didn't' trust myself to go it alone.The dance was still two days away, and with luck, Austin would meet another girl between now and Friday night. I could only hope. Back in the classroom, Ms. Boyd shot me a questioning look as I took my seat. I flashed her my best smile before opening my literature book and pretending to study the day's lesson. Shelly was staring too. I ignored her, counting down the minutes until the bell and we could go to gym. I put on my gym clothes and then nabbed my regular spot on the bleachers. A minute later Shelly claimed hers beside me. It was the boys' day to use the gym. Coach Wiggins took roll, put a demerit next to the names of the two girls not dressed out and then retreated into her office. The moment she disappeared several of my classmates produced cell phones, their thumbs dancing across keyboards, texting their buddies. A few girls plugged in ear buds, and bobbed their heads to the music.