Erin's Boy (Chapters 7-8) free porn video

-----Chapter 7: Gym Day----- The next day, I noticed Erin had included more clothes than I needed or could wear simultaneously, so I texted her to find out what I was actually expected to do. I didn't, after all, want to come in looking wrong. The school had seen me dressed as a girl, but that didn't mean I needed them to see me in the pictures she took either. I received the text back quickly. "Don't you have gym today?" I totally did and I had totally forgotten. Last week I just changed into my normal gym clothes despite some odd looks, but today that wasn't going to fly. Taking a closer look at what she provided, she had cleverly included a sports bra and workout tank top, as well as super short girl shorts which I figured out were for gym class. There were pink tennis shoes which were obviously also intended for gym, since the other pair were black ballet flats. I checked out the rest of my getup. She picked out a bright white padded bra and a black bow in the middle, to go with white panties with small black polka dots throughout and a tiny black bow in front, as all of my new underwear seemed to have. Above that, she chose a black skater skirt which was thankfully a bit longer than yesterday's, and more comfortable too, although it flowed very easily and I knew a misstep would leave me like Marilyn Monroe in her famous blown skirt picture. For my top she chose a white blouse with long sleeves, although the sleeve portions were made of a very thin translucent mesh like a bridal veil, while the rest was opaque. It had a black peter-pan collar which I found very cute, or at least would have if it were on a girl. I went on my way yet again, tossing my gym clothes in my bag. School went normally, or at least as normal as this situation could be, until third period gym. I decided my best bet was to go to the unisex bathroom down the hall to change, until the coach saw me in the hallway and called me over. "Lucas, where do you think you're going?" I told the truth. "The unisex bathroom. I'll be right in the gym on time." "Look boy, I don't understand this weird girly sissy stuff you have going on, but boys have to change in the boys' locker room. Last I checked, that's what you are, right? Go on." I really didn't want to do that. "Please, please don't make me. Why can't I just change in there?" "Listen boy, if you don't want to fail gym for not changing then I recommend you get in there. Or you can take the F and watch everyone else in your pretty skirt on the bleachers." It was tempting, but I couldn't afford to let my grades tank because of this. Against all sanity, and through a small layer of tears coating my eyes, I went in. The sight in the locker room was normal, just like any other boys locker room, which I'd been in hundreds of times. But now there was someone in a pretty skirt and blouse, and that commanded some attention. I saw all eyes turn to me as I opened my bag. "Please leave me alone," I asked kindly, although it didn't seem to deter anyone. "*cough* sissy"..."fag"..."who's the gay guy?" I heard through muddled laughter. They knew damn well why I was dressed this way, but I guess the protection of the locker room gave them a bit of extra confidence to say something. "Alright, yeah, I get it. I'm a spectacle," I coldly replied, to no one in particular. "You know damn well I'm not the first and won't be the last who had to do this, so piss off." That didn't work either. One freshman boy chimed up above the crowd "are you wearing panties?" with an annoying excitement at the concept. I brushed him off. "Well...are you?" asked a senior boy this time, who unlike the freshman was much bigger than I was. "Please leave me alone," I asked again, through emerging tears this time. "GET A MOVE ON IN THERE," coach shouted through the door. Some boys left to get their own clothes on but a few knew that I still had to get changed, and they were willing to be late in order to watch. My heart raced. The last thing I wanted to do was strip in front of these boys, but I had to get to class and my options seemed to shrink and shrink as the seconds passed. Finally, I took off my blouse, and quickly tried to release my bra strap but I was beaten by a snapping sensation across my back. Some asshole had snapped my fucking bra strap. I lost it. I turned around and socked the first guy I saw, who I then realized was the freshman who wanted to see my panties so bad. He fell to the floor, as two guys grabbed each of us to pull us apart. I was pushing against them, looking for another blow, when someone decided to pull down my skirt, revealing my panties to the world. Some boys laughed, but most just fell silent. A door slammed open and closed as coach came into the locker room yelling. "What the hell is going on in here?" He faced the sight of a boy in pain on the ground with blood flowing from his nose, and another boy being held back with a skirt around his ankles and panties on his ass. He paused in shock, before taking control of the situation. "You two, let go of him. You, get off the ground and into the gym, and you-" he said pointing at me. "-you stay here. You're excused from class but I think we have a meeting with the principal coming up." The boys dispersed, and I put my clothes back on as I waited for what felt like hours until coach came back and walked me to the principal's office. My mom was already there, and seemed red in the face from tears. "Oh you're okay!" she exclaimed, hugging me tightly as I entered. She seemed relieved that I had been the one instigating the altercation, not the one getting beat up. Outside the office, I saw Erin talking to her dad, who then entered the office and stood by the door. Principal Leary spoke up. "Ok, we clearly have an issue going on here. I've understood for a long time that boys like to dress effeminately sometimes at this school, and I don't feel it is my business to ask why. But violence is never acceptable and now, I have to make this right. So tell me what happened." I recounted the whole story back to when I wanted to use the unisex restroom. Officer Meadows seemed to be listening intently. "Sir," the officer chimed in, addressing Principal Leary. "There is nothing in the handbook requiring him to change in the locker room, and if I didn't know Mrs. Devonworth to be such a believer in this school system and its people, I would think she has a case against the school for endangering her son." I chimed in at this point. "I just don't want to get in trouble. I want to go home and forget this whole month ever happened." I felt tears welling up as the words came out, and mom reached for my hand. Principal Leary, apparently alarmed by the officer's words, interjected quickly. "I think there is no need for ANY extreme reactions to today, for what was fundamentally a mistake on ALL of our parts." He made sure to emphasize his deflections to other parties besides the school. "Lucas - you can change in the unisex bathroom if you want, for however long in the future you feel most comfortable doing so. I feel that no discipline is necessary, however I think a sock in the face is enough punishment for Kevin out there as well." I hadn't noticed, but the bloody-nosed freshman was waiting outside. He couldn't hear us, and I was guessing that the principal wanted to talk to us first before him, and he was next up in this office. "Is this satisfactory?" Principal Leary asked intently. My mom turned to me to answer this one, and I nodded back in agreement. Mom took me back home for the rest of the day. Erin texted me not long after. "I am so sorry that happened to you. I never wanted you to be hurt. I hope my dad was able to help." I had a hard time ascertaining a tone from just a text, so I couldn't tell if she was showing genuine remorse or just covering her bases. I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. I guessed, without any real evidence to my benefit, that it probably couldn't get worse than that. Maybe I was over the hump. I thought about trying to put a stop to this Wednesday morning, and coming in in normal clothes. Maybe I would take a stand and show that I was stronger than she was and we shouldn't be playing her games any more. There was really only one problem. Erin was not the type to fuck around. She had spoken to her father outside and that man had made it clear that he would defend his daughter's wishes whatever they were. Plenty of other guys were teased and embarrassed during their times with Erin, and they never got off the hook. I was very much still on it. I wish I could tell you that I was clever enough to figure all that out on my own, because I'm a deep analytical thinker about other people and their behavior. Nah. She texted me a picture of me in my skirt from Monday and said, "See you tomorrow!" which made it pretty clear this wasn't over. She found just the right time to snap the pic, when my skirt had blown up just a bit, revealing the bottoms of my panties in frame. Her implication about what would happen if I now denied her was very clear. -----Chapter 8: A New Outlook----- Wednesday morning I dreaded returning to school, but put on a brave face and got dressed. Mom might have been surprised that I decided to continue my female outfits even after all that, but anyone who knew Erin well also knew it wasn't my choice to make. Apparently Erin wasn't planning on returning me to pants any time soon, and today's skirt was a grey and blue plaid number which was basically the schoolgirl skirt from my fantasies except a bit longer, and I'd be the one wearing it instead of Erin. What was new was a garment I didn't recognize at first until I let it unroll to the floor: black tights. I tried pulling them on like socks but after a minute of trying I realized they were never going to get up my legs that way. In retrospect, I probably could have figured it out, but in the moment I panicked and quickly looked up online 'how to put on tights' which revealed to me how to roll them up in my hands before inserting my feet and rolling them up my legs. The feel of coolness against my shaven legs was intoxicating, and I was surprised how warm they kept me despite being so thin. They were slightly sheer which honestly carried quite a sex appeal, but were opaque enough to keep me somewhat modest I suppose. Slutty wasn't the target, I didn't think. I don't remember her buying Mary Jane shoes but that's what I was given to wear that day, and they had a slight heel to them, the first such shoes I had worn. They took me a moment to adjust to walking in, despite being only about an inch. The shiny buckle straps contrasted with the matte tights despite both being black. A basic gray vest top finished the look, although left about an inch of midriff exposed which drove me crazy. Erin hugged me when she saw me that morning, tightly too. If it were anyone else I had to imagine I would have hated this ordeal an order of magnitude more, but for her, I guess the attention she gave me was a silver lining. I always wanted her attention, and never got it, but this wasn't the way I hoped to get there. "Good girl, you look adorable!" she cheered. I almost didn't realize she meant me when she said "girl". "You need a bit of color though, here." She pulled out a compact of pink powder which I recognized as blush, and realized she was about to give me real makeup. There wasn't much going backwards from here. She gently stroked a few big circles on my cheeks with a very large and soft brush, and looking in her small compact mirror could see that it had left a subtle pinkness to my face, but not overbearingly. It wasn't incredibly obvious, but I was shocked at how it subtly lent a more feminine quality to my face, which was really the lone masculine part of my body remaining. She secured a small ribbon in the back of my hair which matched the skirt and I went on with my day. I noticed there was more mumbling about than usual, but I think it was because I had smacked a kid, not because of the outfit. The tights made me less worried about my skirt than I had been the last two days, and since the warm weather had moved out I actually really enjoyed the comfort of the light skirt but warm tights. Despite multiple "firsts" today, it seemed like the previous day had marked a turning point in my head. Suddenly, it wasn't "oh no don't look at my girly outfit" and shame; my energy was more powerful than that. I waltzed into school thinking, "Fuck all y'all, I'm dressed as a girl and you can't do shit about it" and that confidence gave me a spark. I used to fear being the boy in the skirt when I saw others do it. Now I owned it, and if people feared anything when they looked at me, it should have been the boy, not the skirt he was wearing. Fuck it. At the rate we were going I was still clearly a boy in girl's clothing, but it couldn't be long before I looked basically just like any other girl. If Erin had anything to make of it, then I'd probably end up prettier than half of the girls here anyway, and if I'm going to do it I might as well look fine while I do. My worst moment ended up being just the incredible shock I needed for growth and real acceptance of this situation, not just reluctant toleration. Shit, if I'm Erin's boy I might as well be the hottest Erin's boy there ever was. I'll go down in the history books, and everyone she takes after me won't be as pretty, or as confident, or as fun for her. One day they'll say "shit, Jackson was chosen. Damn, remember Lucas? He was the best." I spent most of the rest of the day with a smile on my face, one that hadn't been seen in such force in almost two weeks now. Thursday I wore a tight green bodycon mini skirt which barely reached mid-thigh, although Erin had included patterned tights made of lace which formed a series of diamond and herringbone patterns across my legs. They were slightly trickier to get on than the normal ones, but I had to admit I liked the look a lot; they weren't as open as fishnets, but met halfway between those and complete coverage. More than anything, they made my legs appear a mile long, especially underneath such a short and tight skirt, which I felt against my ass and lime green with black trim panties. I read a note that said to re-wear one of the bras I had already opened, so I chose the white one from a few days back. It stayed hidden below the more seriously cropped top she laid out for me today, a black spaghetti-strap tight-fitting tank which seemed to cover basically nothing beyond a few inches above and below the boobs I was pretending to have. The pink converse completed the provocative look with a hint of casualness. It was slutty, yet relaxed all at the same time, styled for a girl who knew she was hot and wanted to remind you how much she did not care about that fact, since you weren't getting with her anyway. I guess it's no shock that I got some looks in the hallways. In fact, I'd seen girls get dress-coded for far less, but I knew that Erin would prevent that from happening. In fact, she didn't even have to. Apparently, the dress code at Jettsville High was written into the student handbook and school rules with very specific language: "girls may not wear unbecoming clothing, which shows more than one inch of midriff or excessive cleavage, or without straps, nor skirts or pants which do not fall below mid-thigh." Boys, on the other hand, just couldn't wear anything excessively ripped or containing expletives, or show any amount of underwear. They could, however, based on the letter of the law above, wear skirts as short as they wanted and show as much midriff as they could manage as long as it covered their bra (minus the straps). I didn't immediately remember another one of Erin's boys testing the waters on this, but I was pretty prepared to fight it if it came up. Despite a few odd glances, no one tried. I saw one teacher (who I didn't know or recognize) begin an approach toward me, but realizing the situation about halfway through her angry march she made a quick turn to the side, as if that's where she was going all along. Good save, I guess. Erin decided that such a promiscuous outfit needed some extra styling to bring it home, so she slipped some loose ring bracelets on my wrists, and a couple rings on my fingers, including one shaped like a snake on my right thumb. Around my neck she secured a black leather choker with a 1- inch silver ring connecting it in front, and got to work on my face. My hair had grown out a bit more and while it didn't fall like a girls, I had enough length to part over into a moderately girly style. A cute girl could have gotten away with it, but me not quite. She seemed a little disappointed actually at how my hair hadn't quite grown in yet, and appeared to make some mental notes while she clipped in a few black barrettes to hold it all in place. This time in addition to blush, I was introduced to mascara, with which she generously coated my lashes until they were long, full, and a deep black color, enough that I could slightly notice in my field of view before my eyes adjusted. She pulled out a new palette I didn't recognize and I saw six incredibly shimmery circles which she appeared to be choosing from. "This is highlighter," she explained. "It will make your features really pop" She swiped the glimmering silver substance across the tops of my cheeks and told me to look in the mirror. I didn't really notice the effect it had until I started to move my face side to side and up and down, and watched as the light caught the tiny shimmery particles at different angles. In a way I didn't expect, it was both bold and subtle, visible when you wanted it to be and totally hot, if we were being honest. I'd seen other girls with similar looks and it certainly got me going. And luckily, I had learned that by slipping my balls up into my body before tucking, I could seriously flatten out my front, which I was particularly thankful for in a tight skirt like this one. Before I was dressing like a girl, I had made it a point to wear clothing that might show a bulge when my pants came off, because that's sexy right? Now, my front was indistinguishable from a girl's, and frankly my legs were probably better than most of theirs from years of athletic activity. I wasn't a jock, but casual sports gave me a slim figure and well defined body structure that I got to show off in a very different way than I ever expected. Really, someone seeing me from the back would think I was a short-haired girl, with possibly slightly broader shoulders than normal. From the front, there were still little clues in my face, but Erin's makeup work did it's best to minimize them. Really, if not for everyone already knowing me and my predicament, I could have gotten away with it somewhere else. At an absolute maximum someone might be unsure if I was a boy. Anyone else would probably take the girl disguise at face value. Mom gasped when I came home that day, probably because of my outfit. She was perfectly happy pretending to have a daughter, but not a harlot! For the first time, she actually told me to change, and I realized as a reached for a new shirt that I didn't instinctively go for my boy clothes, but for replacement girl ones. After all, my drawers had started to fill with past outfits already, and some of my old clothes were relocated to boxes in the closet to make room. I decided to put the girl power shirt back on for the rest of the day, which seemed to satisfy her. "I saw something at the store today and I got it for you, tell me if you like it. You can wear it tonight." Out of a box she pulled a violet silk babydoll nightdress, and I watched the fabric shimmer as she drew it up by its thin shoulder straps, leading to two obvious cups at the bust and then flowing down to what I figured would barely cover my bottom. It seemed as much like lingerie as nightwear, and I didn't know how to feel about it. "Mom, you know I'm not choosing to dress like a girl all the time right? I'm being forced to do this or else I'll be in a world of hurt." "Yes honey, I know," she replied. "But I also think you're enjoying it more than you're willing to let on, and maybe if you wear this you'll be able to adopt the feminine spirit more easily since it's around the clock" I didn't buy her argument, but, and I couldn't believe I was thinking this, I really, really wanted to put it on and see how it looked. I proved to myself today that I could pull off an outfit I never expected. I wasn't a boy in a skirt today, I was a hot girl with a boy's face and some extra equipment hidden away. "I'll think about it," I said as I took the box with me to my room. We both knew that meant I'd do it. Thus far, I'd been wearing boxers to bed like always, or some nights I just kept my panties on from the previous day. But tonight, I picked out a pair of purple panties I had and slipped the nightdress over my head, and it fell into place like it was made for my body exactly. I shivered as the delicate fabric brushed its way down my torso to the very top of my legs and no further, and I could not believe the delicate body that stared back at me in the mirror. From the neck down, she was a teenage girl with painted toenails and violet panties which showed only when she swished her immaculately pretty nightdress a little too far to one side or another. She was beautiful, and I couldn't help but let a smile creep across my face as I moved into bed and fell asleep. Friday came and for the first time, I wasn't hoping for a reprieve day. I wanted to show the world what I could be, what Erin could make me into. She didn't disappoint. "Dear Lucas," her included note began, which fell out of my Friday package. "I hope you like your new dress. Can't wait to see you at school." So I was getting a dress today. I guess it didn't take long, but after a week in pants, then skirts, I was ready. "P.S. you don't look much like a Lucas anymore. I think we ought to start calling you Lily." It actually amazed me how far she was thinking ahead, given that she delivered every day's outfit back on Sunday. She was such an organized person that her entire escalation was obviously planned from the start. Maybe that's why there was so much time between Tyler and me this year. She was preparing a magnum opus, a testament to what she could do at both a rate and level that was never touched before. She wanted to prove to the world that she could completely transform a boy into a girl against his will, in only a few weeks, methodically and powerfully. It set a dangerous precedent for boys to come after. Over the years, she had become notably more planned, and more intense. It was clear now that she felt there was no need for hair play behind the desk in class or little makeup jobs here and there. Her boy, whoever it may be, wasn't a boy who she made do some feminine things anymore. Rather, her male plaything was an art piece she masterfully chipped away at until he was sculpted in her image, a boy turned not only into a girl, but a beautiful girl, whether he liked it or not and in 2 weeks or less. From now on, there would be no halfway bullshit. She was an amateur at first, who through years of practice and experimentation, became a pro. I quickly put on my underwear for the day, white and pink striped cotton panties and a solid pink padded bra. I picked up the dress and held it out in front of me, admiring the garment before putting it on. The dress I pulled out in front of me had a deep sapphire blue bodice of crushed velvet, with short sleeves and a round neck that showed a noticeable but still conservative amount of cleavage. Just under the bust, it was encircled by a pink sash that acted like a belt, tying into a large bow in the center of my back and concealing the seam between the dress' top and bottom parts. The skirt portion, which made up most of the dress' length, was a shiny black material, satin I'm pretty sure. When I finally pulled the dress over my head and into place, it fell to just above my knee and the way it brushed against my legs as I walked was truly incredible, better than any of the skirts I had worn already. I don't know if it was this dress, or just the principle of a dress that seemed so feminine to me, but despite my trap of wearing this fabric I felt free inside it, encased in softness yet feeling cool and flowy within it. Erin gave me a pair of real heels, silver 3 inch pumps with a bit of shine that fit like a glove, although it took me a few tries before I could figure out how to walk in them comfortably. I had to drive to school wearing my regular sneakers just to avoid an accident, but I was more than elated to put the heels back on as I exited the car. I walked in with me head held higher than ever before (by about 3 inches to be precise!) Erin must have picked up on my odd enthusiasm when we met that morning, because she gave me a big long hug as soon as I saw her. "Ah! Lily you look amazing!" she exclaimed. "Let me help you with the rest!" She applied mascara and a bit of blush and highlighter just like she had before, but then continued with a bit of silver eyeshadow, hardly noticeable but brightening my eyes. Then she pulled out a tube I recognized as lipstick, and slowly twisted the bottom to bring up a stunning floral pink shade that matched the belt of the dress. I recognized it as the shade of the print on the first note she put in my locker. This felt like a bigger step than the rest of the makeup. Once I had lipstick on, I would be fully committed to the look like never before, in a way that the other clothes and makeup could never symbolically achieve. She didn't have to ask. I leaned into her slightly as she gently drew the waxy stick across my lips, painting them like the old masters until they were perfectly coated in the matte hue. It wasn't an incredibly bold shade, but the way it tasted and felt on my mouth was a constant reminder of my lips' new appearance. A big pink bow secured to the back of my hair finished the look, and I couldn't help but keep puckering and smacking my lips, experiencing the new sensation of a full face of pretty makeup. "Stop doing that, you're going to ruin it before the day even starts!" Erin gently scolded. "Here, let me fix it." She brought the tube again to my lips and made a few touch ups before capping it back up. She reached the tube out to me and I accepted. "You'll definitely need to reapply after lunch, and maybe more often if you keep licking your lips like that. Don't forget." How could I? It took all my strength not to stare at my face in the mirror all day, and by the end of second period I was already in the unisex bathroom, desperate to feel that lipstick sensation again. This time, I was applying it myself. It wasn't as easy as Erin made it seem, but anchoring my elbow against the counter helped to keep my hand steady as I carefully traced the shape of my lips and filled them in with the pretty pink shade. Getting the corners just right was tricky, but I used a small tissue to clean up the mistakes and make sure they were even. I exited the bathroom listening to the loud clicks my heels made under me, and went on with my day. People noticed. The only time they'd seen a boy go the full girly distance as part of Erin's project was on Halloween. Never had anyone come in to school in a dress, heels, and lipstick, and definitely none of them would have ever seemed happy about it like I seemed to be. I couldn't really explain where my change of heart came from. Why didn't I hate this? Isn't this the exact circumstance I feared most before it all began? To be the most dolled up boy Jettsville had ever seen, with still time to go? Maybe I was the sissy everyone probably thought by now. No way would any real man go this far without standing up to her, right? They didn't know what was really on the line, but that didn't change the fact that they were probably right. I was enjoying this. I was dressing like Erin did when she looked her absolute best, and emulating the girl I had a crush on for what felt like my whole life. The realization of how far this really came struck me as I thought about my newly fixed lips. I had done those myself this time. I willingly put lipstick on myself because Erin told me I had to. But was that really it? Because it sure seemed like I had wanted to whether or not she was involved. It ate at me a little bit. This wasn't supposed to be something I liked. But it was good to take it in stride, right? How can it be bad to take advantage of a situation and make it a positive? The rest of the day was kind of a struggle to focus. Through the patter of my shoes I still heard mumbling at a level that really hadn't happened since two weeks ago when the whole thing began. "Is she just worse this time?-" "Yeah she's always brutal around Halloween" "Right but this is a massive step up from before" "Maybe he's just a pussy and wants her to go harder?" "-is Lucas really like that?" "I don't know" Scattered fragments of conversations filled the air and I found myself waiting for the bell just like I used to. Monday felt like a decade ago, and it was only three days prior I socked a kid because of this whole thing. I went home shaken, and as I arrived I felt myself start to cry, and upon seeing my mother I couldn't hold it in anymore. She held me tight. "It's okay, honey, it's okay. What happened?" I spat out all I could through stuttered breaths. "I don't know who I am anymore." She paused. Looking back, it must have been impossible to know what to say in that moment. She kissed my forehead and let go to grab me a glass of water. I drank it quickly, and noticed the pink half-moon lipstick stain on the rim of the glass. Right, I'd almost forgotten. "Do you think I'm a sissy mom?" I spit out. "I think you've found enjoyment in something that everyone tells you that you shouldn't, and that's scary. I think you bravely went along with this game when you felt like you had to, and you did it with a straight face. I think you can do or be whatever you want to be with the rest of your time in her clutches, and if you're tired of it you should tell her. Maybe she'll listen." "Or, and I'm not saying you should or should not do anything, since that's a choice you'll have to look deeper to make, but you could serve out the rest of your time and then go back to normal. Everyone moves on from this just fine, and yeah you remember some of those other boys, but do you ever think of them as weak? I don't think so. Once she moves on to someone else, everyone at school will see the real you again, and pretend it never happened. Honestly, when you see Zack Greenberg, do you think of him as a sissy? You remember his Halloween getup I'm certain, and that's fine, but do you think less of him for it?" "No," I replied softly. "If you stick this out you might be known as the boy who got it the worst ever. But you'll have that title to wear proudly, not ashamedly. And frankly, I'll bet someone gets it worse than you before you graduate. After all, you're still a junior. Just imagine what she has planned for senior Halloween!" That was a fearful proposition, but she was right. The Halloween party would surely be my apex, and it was in 8 short days, the Saturday after tomorrow. I could survive that long no matter what whisperings I heard around me. I took off all the makeup and wore boxers to bed that night. I oddly hadn't heard anything from Erin, and the next morning I woke up, put on some jeans and an old, comfy band tee shirt, and lounged on the couch watching TV for a while. I went outside and shot some hoops in my driveway like I used to in the ancient history of 3 weeks ago or so. For a moment, I forgot, and it was refreshing. My nails were the only feminine part of my getup, and they had started to chip. I didn't dare remove the polish yet since I didn't have clearance to do so, but watching it flake off was a reminder of the temporariness of everything. I didn't know when she would call again, or what would be in store, but I was ready. If she wanted a boy to be a perfect girl, then I would be that boy, and girl.