Friday was for basketball, volleyball and a surprise challenge. As much as we tried, basketball was a total loss. I did play, but only during garbage time, while the game was already lost. Volleyball was a different story though as the games are always full of twists. This year the twist was beach volleyball. Two against two, six teams each. Fifteen minutes per match. If tied when the time expires, the next point wins. And if the final score is three wins and three losses, then the overall score difference counts.



The teams were determined by how tall each person was. Team 1 had the tallest and the shortest, which put me in team 2, as I beat Gemma by half an inch. It was interesting to see that team 1 to 4 won, where the teams with more evenly sized players lost. So Fire won, and I was still in the race for personal best. With just three races left, the triathlon last tomorrow.



Friday night's surprise game was building the highest structure using playing cards. And it showed how well a group of women can work together. The men went faster, but their house of cards collapsed too soon. Where we built a more solid base and soon reached their maximum height, then surpassed it. Their second attempt was better, but there was not enough time to beat us. Fire was in the lead, and so was I, although I didn't care too much about that.



Saturday morning was a crazy maze. Lots of mirrors and glass panels, but mostly solid walls. It was each player for themselves, the fastest scoring 24 points, the slowest just 1. The person with the lowest score thus far went in first, and that meant I went in last, after stressfully waiting until everybody else was done. There were a number of critical riddles to solve, that would determine left or right at every split. You could ignore them and push your luck, or you spent valuable time to solve the riddle and go the right way.



I did a bit of both. If I could solve a riddle in less than 30 seconds I was good, otherwise I tried my luck. I had no idea how well I did relative to the rest, but in the end I took seventh place. More importantly, Fire won, by a small margin. We were up, though individually I dropped a spot. But the last match, the triathlon, could turn everything upside down.



We split in four teams of three, one swimmer, one biker and one runner. Luckily, the distances weren't crazy, but from what people told us about previous years, it was a killer. Carla, Gemma and I formed one team. Carla looked amazing in her one piece swimsuit and she did very good, third place out of eight.



Then Gemma on the mountain bike, and her lighter weight actually helped her navigate the bumpy course. We were second when she was done. I was lined up with the last eight on the running track. They let us start with the exact time difference that the bikes ended in. I hate to say it, but I dropped a spot, thank goodness to another Fire team. We did the math and it came down to the last two teams, and it was our girl winning, beating the gentle giant, who couldn't swim, nor bike, so he had to run.



So, we won, and so did I! It was surreal, the Lola song was playing everywhere, giving me a kinky feeling, and the celebrations lasted for hours. We were on TV and I had to give multiple interviews. But the truth was so simple. I could not have won without the team behind me. People were still talking about me solving the cube, or winning the Irish dance, and even my lucky catch in softball. But my fondest memory was the Thursday dance, my dress that the team bought for me, and the way they prettied me up. I was a lucky girl!



On Sunday I went to the salon. Mrs Marlin was the only one there. She hugged me hard, so happy she was that team Fire finally had won, twelve years after she herself had tried. I finally asked her if I could use the bodysuit for at least another week. I wasn't sure if she needed it for someone else.



She laughed, then became serious. She explained that the only way to remove the bodysuit, was by cutting and tearing it off. It would take a while before all the remnants were gone from my skin, due to the glue. So no, she didn't need it for anyone else. And yes, I could wear it for as long as I wanted. I asked about the glue, and she said it was part of the suit. Once it's on a human body, the glue warms up and bonds with the skin, preventing air pockets, sweat pockets, hair growth, or anything that could cause unhygienic troubles. It had similarly pocketed my manhood, so it was safely out of the way, but still affected by anything in the vagina, so it would give a sense of pleasure. I knew it was more than that, but didn't say anything.



She continued, telling how before me she had helped five other people. Three were still wearing it after almost two years. The other two gave up on it, as they had been taking female hormones, and their own breasts had started forming. It got too tight in the bodysuit, but it was thanks to the suit that they knew they wanted to become a woman permanently.



She said she had a gift for me, and she showed me a beautiful diamond, set on a little ring. It's for your belly button she smiled. I can pierce it if you want, through both your real skin and the bodysuit. It's like a symbol for acceptance of your new skin. Wear it until you're ready to give up on the bodysuit. And afterwards too, if you so desire.



I was flustered, the symbolic meaning of the gift overwhelming. Would I stay Lola even longer? Carla would love it. Gemma would love it. Ian would love it. Would I love it? Only one way to find out. Let's do it, I said.



It hurt a bit, but my female skin was now officially connected to my real skin, with the hardest material in the world. And it looked good, couldn't wait to put my yoga top on. But Mrs Marlin had noticed a chip gone from my nail, which had happened while pulling the rope. So she fixed that as well. I told her that we all would keep our orange hair, until it faded. But she warned me that mine wouldn't fade, even though it was real hair. Come back when you feel like it should be faded, she told me, and we'll pick out a new wig for you. What color should the next be? Red, I said, without thinking, I want to be an Irish redhead.



When I finally left she handed me a pretty gift bag. It contained tampons, feminine pads, condoms and some sort of pill. She explained, being a woman is not all just fun. I suggest you pick a date for you first period, and use pads and tampons for a short week, and repeat it every four weeks. And unless you use birth control pills, which you shouldn't, use a condom when having sex, every girl has to worry about that.



The pill was a suppository. It was up to me to use it. At the start of my "period" I should push it up in my vagina, and throughout the days it would leak little bursts of red fluid, to make the experience as real as possible. She could get me more if I really wanted.



Again, the symbolism was more important than the gift itself, and I felt tears going down my face, as I hugged her. And I promised that if I were still a girl in three weeks, thus four weeks after I got the bodysuit, I would consider myself having my first period.



Before I went back home I did some shoe shopping and got sandals with three inch heels, that were so comfortable I knew I could dance in them for hours. I also got some casual shoes with two inch heels, and sneakers that lifted me up as well for more than an inch, which I could wear going back to my classes. While walking through the mall I saw the perfect dress on display, to use for my date with Ian. Or was it too sexy and thus giving the wrong signals? I decided to buy it no matter what.



I didn't see Gemma until Monday lunch time. There were little groups of team Fire, surrounded by admirers, and I had plenty of them myself. As a boy, apart from Carla, I mostly had eaten by myself. But as Lola, people wanted to talk with me, laugh with me, and who knows what with me. In the hallways people cheered on me, sometimes singing Lola, sometimes whistling an Irish song. It would fade eventually, I imagined.



But when I saw Gemma, I knew things had changed. Now it was my turn to conclude she'd had sex. And how right I was. Brody and her were now a couple, and her hair would fade quicker than her smile would. I got details that I securely locked away, as they may come in handy.



Studying with Carla was still the same. No let me correct that. Carla and I were very capable of separating attraction and homework. We were on the ball, not messing around. But where we used to be a quiet couple somewhere in the library or one of the study halls, now things were much louder by people just saying hi, or wanting to talk about the tournament, or digging through our books to see what we were studying. It was both fun and annoying, but we knew it would slow down at some point.



That night Carla was again very clear. I should experience the highs and perhaps the lows as well of being a girl. She didn't want me to hold back with Ian, just because I had her. Maybe you have sex  she said, maybe you don't. Maybe you kiss, maybe you don't. But whatever, enjoy it and don't feel guilty. But what, I said before I could stop myself, what if I fall in love with him too?



It was a scary thought. Because it meant I was getting more girly, and Carla loved me because I was a bit of both boy and girl. She didn't have a good answer, other than saying we'd figure it out. But I knew that at some point I, as in me, had to figure it out. Figure my future out.



Anyway, Tuesday night I was fussing with my hair, my dress, my shoes, makeup, pretty much everything. And then Ian was there, with his car, waiting to take us out. He looked good, not a suit, don't get me wrong, but a quality jeans and a sportsy shirt.



The drive wasn't too far, but it was to a neighborhood where I'd never been before. When he parked I could see the Irish pub that was our destination. People seemed to know him here as he led me to a small table. He ordered a beer, but I wasn't 21 yet, so I ordered a diet ginger ale. A scary thought suddenly went through my mind, if they needed to card me, I only had my boy driver's license.



Ian had to laugh. If I wanted to drink, he could get me an almost perfect license within a matter of hours, and I would be old enough to drink. I had no idea that was even possible but it could certainly help me, so I said, sure. He took a picture of just my face and texted it to someone along with my personal information that I gave him.



Dinner was interesting so to say. There were many choices that I wanted to try, but I ended up with a pie filled with delicious stew. For a while we just chatted, trying to get to know each other better. We talked about my individual win, the team win, our dance last Thursday and the Irish dance club, and soon we were on the tiny dance floor practicing.



It was so easy to be led around, following his moves. And he felt comfortable being in control, although his hand dropped from my hip down to my butt, but I let him, it felt good. At some point a voice was added to the music, and it was the purest I'd ever heard. It seemed like an old language that I did not know, but I could understand every emotion in it. It was about love, losing it, feeling the agony, then finding it again in a much better way.



A second song was much more upbeat, but still pure. I could hear the words now and it was a happy song. Ian swirled me around and we laughed like lunatics. When the song was finally over he led me off the floor to the corner with the musicians, and he introduced me to the woman who had a break from singing for one song. Lola, please meet my sister, Noreen. Sis, meet Lola, my girlfriend.



I chuckled on the word girlfriend, then realized he meant it, but I didn't want to call him out in front of his beautiful sister. All I could stammer was, nice to meet you, I've never heard a more beautiful voice.



From all the weird things I could have said, this definitely was not one, and Noreen looked at me with interest, saying, glad to meet you as well, you like singing? Her speaking voice was so smooth as well, with even more of that lovely accent than what Ian had. And I thought back at how all my life in mandatory choir classes I had hated it, as I always had to sing with the girls. Now that I was a girl, I shrugged my shoulders and said, I don't have a lot of experience.



But Noreen had locked on my own speaking voice already, and she said, come back in the break, in about five songs. She gave me a hug and it felt like a big-sister-approval thing. And that's what Ian thought, as he pulled me back on the dance floor.



The next song was very slow, and all I could hear was Noreen's voice, in her foreign language, singing about everlasting love. I was pulled tight into Ian as we danced at almost the same spot, and when I looked up at him, thanks to my three inch heels, my lips brushed his. Then it turned into a full-blown kiss.



I knew the words of the song were hypnotizing me, but the pleasure I felt from that first real kiss was mind-blowing. It was so different from Carla, whose kiss was absolutely feminine, which triggered my boy part. Ian's kiss was thoroughly masculine and my girl mode took over. I kissed him back with passion, as butterflies twirled around in my belly.



Again he was leading and just as in dancing he took me to a better level. I could tell that the song stopped, but the kiss did not, and people were whistling around us, until the next song was so upbeat we had to pull away. I laughed like a girl in love, as he took me full speed across the floor. It was like he controlled all four legs, as my steps were perfect in line with his, without me even trying. But when the song was over, I was out of breath, for more than one reason.



We sat back at our table and he ordered wine for both of us. At my stunned look he slipped my new driver's license to me, that someone had dropped off, and I was suddenly of legal age. I looked at the card, seeing my own face, seeing the designation female, and my slightly altered birthday. That was me. Lola Masters.



Ten minutes later I was sitting with Noreen in a small back room, with the noise far away. I was asking her about the language in her songs, and if I was right in my understanding of the emotions. It was so spot on, that she tried a few sentences on me, and I closed my eyes, feeling the rhythm of her words, and I understood perhaps not the whole sentence, but the keywords in them.



She said the language was Gaelic and she wondered if I had ever been exposed to it. I doubted it, but I knew I was adopted at young age, and my parents never told me about my heritage. With my green eyes, was it possible I had Irish blood in me?



She poured some wine from a bottle but she said it was more herbs than alcohol. It would soothen the vocal cords. Then she asked me to follow her lead, and she started singing a simple ladder up, then down. I felt a bit awkward, but did the same. Encouraged by her smile I kept on repeating her voice, which got more and more complicated. When she stopped I figured I had done something wrong, as her face was all confused. Then she said to herself, all that talent, and she didn't even know she had it.



Now I was confused, was she talking about me? Listen my dear, she said, I don't know how it's been possible nobody ever detected your singing voice. I know I'm good, but you have the potential of being better. I want to teach you.



I knew very well why nobody ever noticed my voice, but I kept that part to me. But being better than Noreen seemed ridiculous, she who made people kiss with just one line of song? But I was indeed surprised how easily I had followed her, even the words in Gaelic. So I nodded, and I said, please teach me.



We practiced a simple song together, until her break was over. She made me promise not to leave until she was done. Then she passed me back to Ian, saying he caught an angel.



We spent more time on the dance floor, practicing some of the line dance moves. But when the song ended I heard Noreen announce the next song, the song we had practiced, and she called me from the floor, telling the audience we would be doing a duet. She said, some of you may know her already as just Lola, the girl who won the Survivor games at Uni. But did you know she could sing too? I present to you, Lola Masters, a hidden gem.