Chapter Four:

It was the first day of classes. As I sat in my desk in my freshman English class, I wondered why I was so nervous. Maybe it was because it was the first day or classes, or that I was worried about doing good in school. Or maybe it was because I was dressed like a freaking woman! Here it was, my first day of school, and I'm wearing a dress and high heels. I had begged Jenni to help me find something that would make me look frumpy and ugly, but she had insisted on making me look like a cute little coed. My hair was tied back in a pony tail, my face was made up, and my nails were painted (my real nails now).

Jenni had laid down several rules for my new life. No more working out at the gym, women don't have big muscles. No dating, women don't date other women. No belching, or drinking beer, or bashing heads in the mosh pit, too unladylike.

The worst thing was how I was treated by guys. They flirted with me! They went out of their way to talk to me or ask me if I needed help. I wondered if they knew how obvious their intentions were. Probably not. Every time a guy hit on me I my manhood would be questioned. It was being questioned almost every day now.

I looked around the room. There were at least four women whose telephone number I would have loved to have had. I sighed as a guy who was no better looking than me sat down next to one of them and easily started a conversation.

"Hi, how you doing?" I heard a voice next to me. Some big jock type was sitting next to me. He was smiling intently. Christ, not again. I wasn't in the mood to fend off his flirtations, so I mumbled "Fine," and turned away. Maybe his feelings would be hurt, but what of it? He could get a date later, I couldn't. I adjusted my dress again. It was such a pain, constantly having to make sure I wasn't sitting with my legs spread apart.

The professor came in. The first thing he did was collect IDs and check them. Some schmuck who had forgotten his was forced to go home and get it, thus missing the entire class. I guess John had been right, I never would have gotten away dressing like a man and having a woman's ID.

The class was interesting, but I didn't care. I never volunteered anything and only answered questions when I was called upon. I had gone from being the high school class clown to a shy college girl. I didn't like it, not one bit.

After class, a pretty girl in a sorority sweater came up and started talking to me. "Hi," she said with a cute Boston accent "I'm Stephanie."

"I'm Dale," I replied.

"That's an original name. I like it. You seemed nervous back there, was something wrong?"

Stephanie had short dark hair, big brown eyes, and a nice figure. I was enraptured. "Oh, nothing," I answered. "I'm just new in this area and the campus is a little overwhelming."

Stephanie smiled. "Oh, you just need to make some friends. My sorority is having a mixer tonight. Why don't I pick you up and we'll go together?"

My soul soared, then crashed back to earth. She wasn't asking me out, she was just being nice to what she thought was another girl. If she had seen me as a guy she might not have given me the time of day. I gave he my address.

That night, I got ready for the party. Jenni insisted that I wear one of her skirts, but conceded that if I wore a sweater it wouldn't look out of place. She cautioned me to be careful around any drunk frat guys.

Stephanie rang the bell a few minutes later. She seemed surprised to find that John was my roommate. As we were driving away, I told her that John and I were only friends.

"Maybe so," she said "but be careful. Guys only have on thing on their minds. Don't be surprised if he comes on to you one day."

I thanked her, though I figured that John would probably be able to control himself around me.

When we pulled up in front of the sweltering Greek house, the party was going on in full swing. Music was blasting, people were dancing, everyone was having a good time. As soon as we got inside, I knew I wasn't going to be able to enjoy myself. If I had been dressed as I guy I would have already been off hitting on some girl. Now I stood quietly at Stephanie's side, wishing I hadn't come. It didn't help that the big frat guy who was watching the door made a pass at me.

Stephanie introduced me around. I met several pretty girls who I would never be able to ask out and several guys who you would have thought were being introduced to my chest, from where their eyes were fixed.

"Hey, Steph, baby!" someone called out. We turned around to see some guy who made John look like a spokesman for a temperance society. Moronically drunk did not even begin to describe him. He stumbled over to Stephanie and leered at her.

"Back off, Howie," she yelled at him above the music. "I told you it's over. We're through."

She pointedly turned her back on him. He tried to say something, but only managed to puke all over her back. "Oh, gross!" she screamed, and ran for the bathroom. Without thinking, I followed.

We were alone in the bathroom. I shut and locked the door. When I turned around, I was shocked to see that she had removed her shirt and was soaking it in the sink. I nearly fell over when her bra followed.

After senior prom last year I had made love to my date. That had been my one sexual experience. The sight of the female body still was new and very exciting to me. Here Stephanie stood, not three feet from me, her naked chest fully visible.

She tried in vain to look over her shoulder. "Did that jerk get any barf on my back?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied. There was some, but only a spot the size of a pencil lead.

"Would you mind?" she asked, hanging me a wet washcloth.

I ran the warm, wet cloth down her bare back, shoulders, and neck. I felt my penis strain against the sex hiding panties as it tried to get erect. I wanted to grab her, kiss her, tell her she was gorgeous. Instead I simply handed her back the cloth and told her that she was clean.

Stephanie hung her shirt over the shower curtain and began telling me about her relationship with Howie. I turned my head so I wouldn't be caught starting at her perfect breasts. I stared at them in the mirror instead.

I felt bad. Stephanie was telling me all her life's troubles, not realizing that I was just some guy who was paying more attention to her erect nipples than to her story.

She was interrupted by a banging at the door. "Out in a second!" she called. Then the door burst open. I had locked it, but the lock was old and ill fitting. It was that puking drunk, Howie.

"Get out of here!" Stephanie screamed, covering her breasts with her hands. Howie didn't listen. He just pinned her against the wall and began kissing her. She couldn't get away without exposing her bare chest.

"Get away from her!" I shouted.

"Quiet, you!" Howie shot back at me, and grabbed Stephanie's rear.

That was assault, no matter how you looked at it. I had to do something. Without stopping to think, I punched him in the back of his head. He staggered, fell, banged his head on the sink, and was out like a light. I think the booze was mostly to blame.

Stephanie was too shocked to say anything. I knew I had to get her out of there. Her top was still too damp to wear, so I ran out, grabbed my coat, and threw it over her shoulders. I then picked up her shirt and bra and lead her by the hand out a back door.

By the time we got back to the car, she was sufficiently recovered to drive. When we got back to my place she thanked me for my heroics.

"Oh, I was just helping out. It was no big deal."

"Of course it was a big deal. Where did you learn to punch like that?"

"I, uh, took a self defense class."

"Well if paid off. Men are such jerks. I don't know why we even bother."

I felt obliged to defend my sex. "Well, not all men are jerks."

"Sometimes it seems like it. Good night, Dale." She kissed me on the cheek and drove off.

I walked inside. I had just saved a girl from an assailant and all I got was a 'men are jerks,' speech. God, how could I survive for a year without hope of a date?

When I first walked into my bedroom I thought that I had somehow wandered into the wrong apartment by mistake. Nothing was familiar. But the room was the same. It was everything that was in it that was different.

All the male clutter that had characterized my room since as far back as I could remember was gone. Everything was neat and tidy. But that wasn't what was strange.

All my stuff was gone! My posters of football players and swimsuit models had been replaced by prints of nature scenes and angels! The cruddy sheets on my unmade bed were now replaced by a pink comforter, frilly pillows, and a teddy bear! There was a vase of dried flowers on my now neat desk and some dumb clown nick-knack on my window sill. There was no sign of my catcher's mitt, my fake executioner's axe or my pipe. Floral curtains covered the previously bare windows.

I yanked open my closet. All my clothes and my hockey stick were gone. All that was left were the few outfits I had borrowed from Jenni. All my underwear was missing from my chest of drawers. In its place were some new pairs of panties in various colors. There was also a new makeup kit, a woman's razor, and a bag of cotton balls.

Who had done this? I read the mailing label on one the fashion magazines that had mysteriously replaced my 'Sports Illustrateds.' Just as I thought, Jenni.

As if on cue, she walked into the room. "What do you think? It took hours for me to change everything," she said happily, as if I would be proud of her efforts.

I lost it. "What do I think? What do you think I think? Where's all my stuff?"

"Relax. I put it in storage."

"I will not relax! You had no right to do this! My room is the one place I can be myself and you destroyed it! It looks like a woman lives here now!"

"That's the idea, silly. You're such a social animal, I knew it would only be a matter of time before you had friends over. You couldn't very well have them see a picture of Kathy Ireland on the wall or your jockstrap hanging on the door, could you?"

"That's not the point! And you!" I yelled at John, who had just walked in. "How could you just stand by and let her do this?"

"I make it a point never to get involved."

"Never to get involved in what?"

"In anything," he replied, and smiled idiotically.

"I wanna talk with you," I barked at Jenni, "right now."

We both sat down on the living room couch. John, uninvited, sat between us. He never added anything to the ensuing discussion, though he would rotate his head 180 degrees to stare out whoever was talking.

"Jenni, ever since I had to start dressing like this, you've developed a bossy streak that I don't like."

"That's because you don't know the first thing about being a woman. You need my help. It's for your own good."

"Yeah, stealing all my stuff. That's for my own good. When I need your help I'll ask for it. Until then, stop trying to run my life, I'm doing fine as it is."

"Yeah, you're doing real fine," Jenni shot back sarcastically. "I just called a friend who was at that party you were at. Seemed some 'girl' knocked out a big dude. Sound familiar?"

"Oh, now you're checking up on me, huh? Yeah, I hit him. He was sexually assaulting a friend of mine. Should I have just sat back and watched?"

"You should have called for help. Someone would have been there in two seconds."

"That's not the point. If you had had the guts to meet Steve, I wouldn't be in this stupid situation!"

"Hey, I'm not the one who was too dumb to register. You need my help, you can't even run your life as a guy!"

"I don't need your help. I don't especially like having you around. In fact, I'm not even sure I want to see you anymore!"

"Fine by me, asshole!"

We had never been that angry with each other before. I'm not sure what would have happened had John not shaken up the beer he was drinking and spritzed it all over the both of us.

"What the hell did you do that for?" we yelled in unison.

"To shut you both up. You were acting like a couple of three-year-olds. Last week you two were so close, what's gotten into you? No, don't interrupt, listen to me. Dale: you don't have the slightest idea how to be a woman. I know you hate it, but your sister knows what she's doing and she's only trying to help, so listen to her. Jenni: Dale's right, you have gotten really bossy lately. I know you're only doing what you think is right, but it's at least partially your fault this happened, so have some tact. No more doing things without telling him."

There was a long silence. "What happened to 'not getting involved?'" Jenni finally asked John.

"No, he's right," I said. "Jenni, I'm sorry. You know this hasn't been easy on me and I didn't mean to blow up at you. I know you just wanted to help."

"I'm sorry too Dale. It is partly my fault you have to do this, I just am trying to make things easier in the long run. I'll be nicer from now on."

"Friends again?"

"You bet, little brother." We hugged.

"You know, Jenni, I don't think that it's that I mind learning how to be a female so much. It's that I hate being reminded that I'm a guy dressing in drag. It's so humiliating, even around you. I think if I could take femininity lessons from someone who didn't know I wasn't a woman, then things might be easier on me. I guess that wouldn't be possible, though."

"Hang on," said John. He held his head, as if all this unaccustomed thinking was causing him pain. "I had this friend last year. He had a real bad speech impediment."

"Did his stutter?" asked Jenni.

"Worse than that, he was from Georgia. He wanted to be an actor, but he sounded kinda silly, reciting Shakespeare with the drawl of his. 'Tah be, orah naught tah be.' Anyhow, he met this guy over in the drama school. He set my friend up with some self hypnosis tapes that cured him of he drawl in a year. He said they had all kinds of tapes for actors. I think he said they had something about acting more feminine, you know, for them 'tea and crumpet' type rolls."

"Self-hypnosis? I don't like the sound of that."

"Well, you might as well go over to the drama school and see if they can help you. What was the name of that guy with the tapes? Uh, Leonard...Larry...no! Leroy! Leroy Brown."

"John, that's a song."

"Yeah, that's why I remembered his name. Leroy Brown, same as the song. Well, g'night all." John finished his beer and went to bed.

"So what do you think?" asked Jenni.

"About what?" I replied.

"About what John said."

"I dunno. Sounds pretty far fetched to me."

"About the self hypnosis?"

"No, about John having a friend."

We both laughed. "Seriously, Dale. It might be just what you need."

"Well, it sounds too much like brainwashing to me."

"You might as well check it out. They might not even have the tapes anymore."

"Okay, I'll stop by tomorrow after classes."

Chapter Five:

The next day after classes, I stopped by the fine arts building. It was run down and badly in need of maintenance. The drama department was in even worse shape. Though classes had started, the drama school part of the building seemed deserted. Finally I ran across two guys in one of the classrooms. They were moving a desk (or so I thought at the time. Now that I think back on it, they might actually have been trying to steal it).

"Excuse me, is this the drama department?" I asked.

"It sure is," said one of the guys, dropping his end of the desk. "Are you here to try out for 'Midsummer?'"

"Excuse me?"

"Midsummer Night's Dream. That play we're putting on. You want an audition?" He seemed rather desperate.

"Uh, sorry no. I'm looking for a man named Leroy Brown."

I expected them to laugh at what I was sure was a made-up name, but the other guy remarked that Leroy was in the prop room. I thanked them and left.

The prop room was in the basement of the building. I walked down a dingy staircase into a dimly-lit room. Crates and boxes were piled everywhere, rows of dusty costumes lined the walls. In the back of the room I could make out the figure of a man.

"Leroy? Leroy Brown?" I called out.

The figure turned and I got a good look at him. The song 'Leroy Brown' describes Leroy as "The baddest man in the whole damn town/ badder than old King Kong/ meaner than a junk yard dog." If this guy was Leroy Brown, he certainly didn't live up to his name. He wasn't much taller than me. He was skinny and seemed a little awkward. He wore think glasses that seemed a little too big for his face. He was dirty from working in the messy prop room. On the other hand, he seemed to be wiry and strong, and had a friendly face. He was the kind of guy that Jenni referred to as "Charmingly nerdish." Good looking, but a little unsure of himself; someone who would be more willing to accept the faults of others. Jenni often went after that type of guy in hopes that he'd be willing to date her. It had never worked.

Leroy smiled, and then shocked me by saying "Oh Helen, nymph, goddess, perfect, divine! To what, thy love, shall I compare thine eyne?"

I didn't know how to react. "I'm sorry?"

Leroy seemed embarrassed. "Whoops. They told me someone was coming over to addition for the part of Helena, I thought it was you." He looked at his watch. "Guess she's not showing. Damn, we were counting on her," he said disappointedly.

"Is this for that Midsummer play?" I asked.

"Yeah. You've heard of it?"

"Only in this building. What's up?"

"Well, you might have heard that enrollment in the drama school has really fallen off over the past few years. They say they're going to shut down the school next year. Me and some other drama students thought that maybe, if we put on a good play, I mean a really good play, then we might make the administration realize that we add something to the school. I was all set to play Demetrius. We're still short a few cast members, though. Would you like to be in the play?"

I was flattered, but had to decline. I didn't exactly want to appear on stage dressed as a woman. I felt sad for Leroy, though. If the drama school shut down he'd have to change majors or change schools.

"That's okay," said Leroy. "It was just a thought." He wiped his hands on a rag. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I heard that you had some self hypnosis tapes. You know, to help people with their behavior and such. Do you really have anything like that?"

"Yeah, though I haven't seen them since some guy from Georgia needed to work on his accent a couple of years ago. Let me have a look."

Leroy began hunting around in the morass of boxes and crates. It seemed like a thankless and tiring task. I very much doubted that he would go digging through all these boxes for another man. That was one advantage of womanhood, men were always willing to help me out.

Finally, he pulled two old shoe boxes out of a larger box and sat them on a barrel in front of me. He opened one, revealing dozens of dusty tapes. 'Stop stuttering' read one. 'Commanding stage presence,' read another. "The psychology department helped make these up in the late 50's," Leroy explained. "They were originally on records, but someone must have dubbed them to cassette since then. What exactly do you need?"

"Well, this might sound silly, but I need something to help me act more like a woman."

Leroy snorted. "That does sound silly."

"I'm serious! You see, I've always wanted to be an actress..."

"You have? Well, this Midsummer role..."

I silenced him with a look, a trick that I found only worked when people thought I was a woman. I continued. "I want to do some acting, but I just don't feel ladylike. My gestures are too masculine, I don't really have the right female mindset. Could your tapes help me with anything like that?"

"Well, I still say the problem is all in your mind, but let's see what we got." He rummaged through the boxes and pulled out a tape. Feminine deportment,' read the label.

"So how exactly do these tapes work?" I asked.

"You play them while you sleep. They sound like music, but they have a voice on them that only your subconscious mind picks up."

"I don't understand. What exactly does the voice say?"

"Well, these tapes work on the same principal those 'stop smoking' tapes. The voice tells your mind to do something that you lack the willpower or knowledge to do. Eventually your mind starts listening to the message and doing what it says."

That sounded scary. "What if I don't like what the message tells me to do?"

"Don't worry about it. Despite what you see in the movies, you can't hypnotize someone against their will. It's just like the stop smoking tapes. If you don't really want to quit, no amount of tapes can make you. Besides, I wouldn't worry about these tapes. They're designed for actors and actresses. They'll help you walk and talk like a female, but won't transform you into June Cleaver or anything."

"How long do the effects last?" I asked.

"As long as you want them too. Remember, your mind is in charge. The tapes can help you make changes as long as you want them. Stop wanting the changes, the tapes stop working. Of course, if you want the changes to be permanent, like not smoking or acting ladylike or whatever, you only have to listen to the tapes for a while. Once the desired behavior becomes second nature you won't need to be hypnotized any longer. But that would be an extreme case. I've never known a smoker who didn't occasionally sneak a cigarette. If you really want to make permanent changes, you'd probably have to listen to this tape for years."

That was a relief. I had had fears of being hypnotized into behaving like a woman and then not being able to change back when the time came.

I took the cassette. Leroy, after telling me once again he didn't think I really needed it, offered to show me out. I really didn't need help getting out of the small building, but I didn't feel like an argument.

As we were leaving the theater, I noticed a poster for the film I had seen on my infamous date with Steve. It was playing at a local theater and I remembered that, thanks to Steve's raging hormones, I never had seen the ending.

Leroy noticed me reading the ad. "Do you like that film?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess. I saw it once, but never got to see the end."

"Well, I'm going to see it this Friday. Do you want to come with?"

"Uh, yeah, why not? I'll have to ask to borrow my sister's car, though."

"Don't worry about it. I'll pick you up."

We sat a time to meet and I left.

When I returned to my apartment that afternoon, I found Jenni was there, reading a magazine. Ever since the start of the school year, it seemed like she had practically moved in with me. Not that I minded, I enjoyed her company. John was busy blasting out the heavy metal version of The William Tell Overture on his bass guitar.

"Hi Dale!" shouted Jenni over the noise John was making. "How'd things go at the drama school?"

"Not bad. I got the tape. I doubt it will do me any good, but it's worth a try. Anything to help me get adjusted to this crazy life."

"Well, I hope it works. You've had a rough couple of weeks. What do you say I take you to dinner this Friday, my treat?"

"That'd be great. Oh, wait, I can't. I told some guy from the drama school I'd see a movie with him."

The was nasty sound as John hit an even more sour chord that usual. I then realized that both John and Jenni were staring at me with shocked expressions on their faces.

"You...you have a date?" asked Jenni uncertainly.

"Hell no! What are you talking about? I'm just going to the movies with a friend."

"Who's idea was it?" she asked.

"Well, it was his and...stop looking and me like that, you two! It's just two friends going to see a film."

"Are you going Dutch?" asked John.

"Well, no, he said he'd get the tickets from the box office, but that doesn't mean anything."

"Are you meeting him there or is he picking you up?" asked Jenni.

"He's picking me up, but what of it?"

"Well" said John, "I'm no Casanova, but if I asked a girl to see a movie with me, and I was picking her up and paying for it, I would just assume..."

It then hit me. How could I have been so stupid? Leroy had clearly asked me out and I had stupidly said yes! That's what comes from thinking like a man and living like a woman. I had thought Leroy was just asking a buddy to see a flick, while Leroy had obviously thought I had agreed to a date. Maybe the hypnosis tapes would help me avoid situations like this.

I felt like punching the wall. "So what do I do now?"

"Easy enough," said Jenni. "Just call him and cancel. Say something came up."

"But I don't have his number! All I know is that he's a drama student."

"Well," said Jenni, "perhaps you can find him at the drama school."

John shook his head. "No dice. The drama school's almost bankrupt. The building's only opened on Mondays and Tuesdays." It was Tuesday afternoon.

"Well," I said "that settles it. I guess I'll just have to wait until Friday and then tell him I'm sick."

"Yeah, that would be just great!" said John in a surprisingly angry voice. "Just let him think he has a date all week, and then stand him up on Friday night. That'll do wonders for his self esteem." Clearly John had been on the receiving end of this treatment before. He obviously didn't care for people who stood dates up at the last minute, whatever the reason.

"Well, John, what am I supposed to do? Be his girlfriend? He's not going to get anywhere with me, that's for damn sure."

"Just see the movie with him. When it's over, tell him you just want to be friends."

"And you think he won't be hurt by that?"

"Of course he'll be hurt! But it won't be as bad as getting stood up at the last minute." John seemed very bitter. I wondered what had happened in his past romantic life that made him so defensive about the feelings of others.

"I'm sorry John, I just really don't want to go out with him. I know it's my fault, but I'm not going to do it."

"Look," said John, somewhat calmer, "if you don't feel safe, why don't Jenni and I go with you? A double date. We won't let anything happen."

"You're going to badger me about this until I do the right thing, aren't you?"

John smiled his moronic smile. "Yep."

"Fine. I'll do it, but only because he was nice to me and I don't want to be mean in return. And that's the ONLY reason I'm doing it. The first time I hear either of you act like I want to do this, I'm history."

Jenni and John smiled innocently.

The next afternoon, Jenni took me to the mall to go clothes shopping. I didn't really feel up to it, but since I only had two or three outfits in my wardrobe I figured it was a necessity.

The first things we bought were shoes, since I only had two pairs and neither of them really fit. It wasn't easy finding them in my size, but eventually I managed to get some high heels, some pumps, and a pair of women's sneakers.

Next, Jenni dragged me into Victoria's Secret. I refused to buy and of the lacy feminine undergarments she picked out for me. I simply purchased a set of female pajamas and a matching bathrobe.

Then Jenni took me through practically every clothing store in the entire mall. It was a strange feeling, ducking into the women's dressing room to try on a skirt, but I soon got used to it. Jenni helped me select all the clothes I would need for the coming year: t-shirts, jeans, skirts, dresses, blouses, a coat, a jacket, and sweaters. As the clerk rang up our purchases, I realized something.

"Jenni, how can you afford all this?" She pretended not to hear me. I asked her again.

"Oh, I saved up a little. Don't worry about it."

"Saved up a little? Jenni, you were broke last week. How can you pay for all this?"

"Well, I sold my computer. It's no big deal. John said I could use his."

I was stunned. All John had was a crappy old laptop that didn't even have a modem. "Jenni, how could you do that? You loved that computer!"

"Well, it's mostly my fault that you have to dress this way, so I might as well dress you in style. You couldn't really go through the year wearing whatever I happen to have clean. Besides, your comments about me being afraid of Steve got me thinking. I have been hiding on the internet. I've been afraid to face the world. I think it's time that I get out there and make friends that I don't have to be online to talk to."

I smiled at her. I hoped she was telling me the truth. I knew how much she liked that computer and I hated to see her get rid of it on my account.

"Thank you Jenni. I think you're doing the right thing, getting out more, and believe it or not, I do appreciate the clothes. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

"Maybe there is. I was thinking that clip-on earrings don't look right on you. You'd really look a lot better with pierced ears. Lots of guys have pierced ears and the holes would heal by the time you went back to being a guy."

I won't bore you with a long transcript of my protestations. Suffice it to say that I left the mall that day with two small gold studs in my lobes.

Chapter Six:

That night I got ready for my non-date date. I just wanted to throw on a t-shirt and go, but Jenni insisted that I take a shower and put on makeup. I drew the line at wearing a pretty dress. Lots of women had gone out with me wearing a sweater and jeans and I figured that was good enough for me tonight. Jenni, on the other hand, was dressed to the nines. I guess she was making good on her resolution to get out more, she seemed to enjoy the idea of a night on the town. She looked awful pretty, even with the scars. Who knows, maybe the idea of her having a boyfriend wasn't so far fetched.

John wore his least smelly t-shirt and combed his hair. For him, that was dressing up.

At the appointed time, Leroy showed up, freshly showered and shaved. "You look great," he said.

"So do you," I replied without thinking.

Leroy seemed a little disappointed that John and Jenni would be coming with us. It wasn't hard to figure out why. It's not easy for a guy to put the moves on a girl when her friends are around. I was glad they were coming, now maybe I didn't have as much to worry about.

We drove to the movies in Leroy's car. This time, it was playing in one of those 'art' theaters, the kind that show foreign films and other flicks without car chases. Jenni loved that sort of place. John was put out that they didn't sell Milk Duds or candy bars. Leroy seemed to be enjoying himself. I just wanted the evening to be over.

As soon as the lights went dim, I had a horrible thought: what if Leroy put his arm around me like Steve had? I was planning on telling Leroy I just wanted to be friends after the movie. That would be a lot harder to tell him if I had let him hold me during the movie; he might think I was a tease. On the other hand, if I shrugged away or told him to back off, that might really hurt his pride. While I had no desire to get physical with him, I really didn't want to make him think he was unlikable. He was a nice guy, but I wasn't interested in nice guys.

As it turned out I had nothing to worry about; he never made an overt move. He did, however, keep inching his hand towards mine. It was obvious that he was hoping that I'd move my hand closer to his and we'd end up holding hands. Every time I noticed him doing this, I pretended to adjust my hair or scratch my wrist to get my hand out of the danger zone.

Finally, the movie was over. Despite the fact that John had made gunfire noise during the many combat scenes, it was kind of a fun experience. Still, I was more than ready for it to be over.

As we walked to the car, Leroy asked "So who wants to grab a bite to eat?" I made up an excuse about having a headache and asked to be driven home. I felt like slugging John when he said "Well, I'm damn hungry. C'mon Jenni, I know a place near here where you can get ten burgers for ten bucks!"

They were off into the night. I was so pissed! They knew I didn't want to be left alone with Leroy and they just went off to grab some food. Some friends.

Leroy seemed pleased with the turn of events. He was clearly hoping that I'd invite him inside and then offer to slip into something more comfortable. Fat chance of that happening.

Leroy walked me to the door of my building. "Jenni, I had a really good time tonight," he said.

"So did I," I replied. That was all it took. His face was slowly moving towards mine, going in for the obligatory good-night kiss. Not tonight, pal.

"Listen Leroy," I said, backing away, "I like you, you're a nice guy," I took a deep breath and then said it, "but I think we should just be friends." There. Short and nasty, but honest. I didn't want to hurt him, but I sure as hell didn't want to lead him on.

Leroy took it like a man. "Okay," he said. "I understand. But if you really want to be my friend, will you do something for me?"

"Uh, what did you have in mind?" If there was one thing I had learned recently, it was not to promise anything without thinking first.

"It's about the play. We have every part cast except for the role of Helena. If we don't start practicing soon, and I mean like this week, we're sunk. You'd be perfect."

Ug. "Leroy, I dunno..."

"Look, practice is only two nights a week, and the performance is right after winter break so it won't take up that much of your time. Besides, you told me you wanted that tape to help you become an actress. Well, here's your big chance!"

There was that old familiar feeling again. I felt like I was the only one who wasn't controlling my life. I couldn't back out on Leroy without him thinking that I had been lying to him. I agreed; if anything I'd be helping out some struggling actors. Besides, Jenni wasn't the only one who needed to get out more. Maybe acting would be a fun way to meet people, if only for a while.

After Leroy drove off, I consulted some old reference books I had lying around. I finally found a synopsis of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream.' The character I would be playing, Helena, was a shy girl who falls in love with, and eventually marries, a man named Demetrius.

I had heard the name Demetrius before. That was the role Leroy had said he would be playing.

Summer turned into fall, and fall into winter. John had a few more gigs. Jenni, although she never managed to get a date, was more sociable than she had been in a long time. It was good to see her getting out more. She seemed to have a lot more self esteem.

As for me, I was enjoying college life. Despite everything, I was managing to make friends and get out of the apartment. Every day I would rise an hour earlier than I had when I was living as a guy. I would shower and then do my hair. Jenni had arranged for me to have a perm, now my hair had a slight curl to it. Instead of just letting it hang free, I had to decide how I wanted to wear it that day: down, in a pony tail, in a bun, braided, or whatever.

After I had my hair fixed the way I wanted, I would start on my makeup. Due to months of practice, I had finally gotten to the point where I could make up my face satisfactorily. It was a dull process for me and I envied the many women I knew who didn't use makeup. Unlike them, they didn't need to prove to the world that they were women. I did. Still, that deception was getting easier and easier every day. I learned that a little makeup can go a long way. Another thing that helped was the electrolysis treatments I used to get rid of the few hairs on my face. I resigned myself to the fact that growing a beard really wasn't in my future, and to tell you the truth, it was nice not having to shave my face every couple of days. Unfortunately, I still had to shave my legs.

When my makeup was finished I would decide what I wanted to wear that day. Gone were the days when my only wardrobe decision dealt with whether my jeans were too smelly to wear another day. Now words like 'style,' 'matching,' and 'accessorize,' had meaning to me. I would often dress myself, decide that I didn't like what I had on, and change.

When I was finally ready to go, I would walk to class. I had been true to my promise to do well in school, I was excelling in every subject. When classes had first started, I would rush home and stay in my apartment for the rest of the day. Now I would usually stop for a coffee in the student union or go to the gym and work out. I didn't pump iron like I used to, of course, but I did do a lot of jogging and aerobics which helped me slim down.

Twice a week, in the evenings, I would go to play practice. At the first rehearsal I had realized that all of the other cast members were far and away better actors than I was. That meant I had to practice twice as much. I would often read my part over and over again at home, with Jenni and John reading the other lines. If this play didn't save the drama school it wasn't going to be because I didn't try.

Despite my early misgivings, my social life really took off. Though I managed never to get roped into another date, I did have a lot of friends to hang out with. Most of them were cast members from the play who always included me in their parties, road trips, and nights out. They were a great group of people. Sometimes I would see a movie or have a cup of coffee with Stephanie, the girl who had taken me to my first college party. Other nights I would hang out with members of the campus Greenpeace organization that I had recently joined. Sometimes Jenni, John, Leroy and myself would rent a movie or just sit around and talk.

Leroy had taken my request that we just be friends very seriously. He might not have stood a chance with me romantically, but he seemed genuinely interested in being my friend. He showed me around town and introduced me to a lot of his companions. He was a real nice guy and I enjoyed hanging out with him, but only platonicly, nothing more. He would still occasionally try to hold my hand or give me a hug, but he always took my rejection in stride. I guess it was true what they say: a guy could never truly be friends with a pretty girl. He'd always think of her as a sex object, if only subconsciously.

I didn't like the fact that in a year I would never see any of my new friends again. They were a lot of fun to be with, but I couldn't very well keep hanging out with them once I changed colleges and went back to being a guy. It was hard on me, a lot of them had gone out of their way to help me fit in and I was going to leave them without any explanation. Still, I was counting the days until I could toss away my panties and skirts forever.

I was listening to the hypnosis tapes every night. I have no idea if they helped or not; like Leroy said, the effects could be almost anything. I did notices that I had gradually gone from thinking of myself as a perverted man in a dress to more of a double-agent type roll. I felt like I was living someone else's life and that soon I could go back to being myself. It did me good to think of my life that way. I could stop focusing on what I was missing and start concentrating on what fun I could be having at the present time.

The thing that really bothered me was the fact that I had no chance of getting a date for an entire year. I was eighteen years old and my hormones were raging. Every time I saw a pretty girl, I would go nuts with unfulfilled desire. Once I had approached Jenni with the idea of joining a lesbian organization in hopes of meeting a woman who would like me as I was. Jenni had practically forbidden me. She was right, it was a dumb idea. I'd probably get caught and then my secret would be out. Besides, it would be mean to play with the emotions of some poor girl who thought she was dating a woman.

One night back in late August I was sitting in Jenni's dorm. She was giving me a pedicure. I didn't enjoy it, but she seemed to, and I didn't really mind. Once again, I broached the subject of my date-free life. It wasn't the current absence of women in my life that was really getting me down, I said. It was the fact that the absence would continue on until the summer with no chance of letting up. It really bummed me out.

"Well Dale," replied Jenni, putting away the toenail polish, "you are at that age where about all a guy thinks about is girls. It's those raging hormones that are doing it."

"I know, but I guess there's nothing to be done. Jesus, I feel like I'm in prison here. I figured I'd already have a girlfriend by now, and of course I don't."

"Listen Dale, I was on the internet today (though Jenni had sold her computer, she could still access the internet at the library). I found out about a chemical that could reduce your sexual desires greatly. Do you think that would make life easier for you?"

"Yeah, I think that it would. It seems like all I think about is women. What's this chemical called?"

"Well...estrogen."

"Estrogen? Female hormones? Sorry babe, I'm not that desperate."

Jenni pulled out some computer printouts. "Would you let me explain?"

"Explain what? That I'd grow breasts and start to like guys? Gimme a break!"

"It's not like that, Dale. Now listen." She consulted her sheets. "Your testicles, as you probably know, are producing a chemical called testosterone. That's what makes you a man. It make you like women, and have facial hair and rough skin and such. But if you were to start taking estrogen pills, then that would sort of neutralize the testosterone. Your sex drive would really drop off. Of course, you would develop some secondhand female characteristics. Your body fat would redistribute into a more womanly figure, so maybe you could get rid of some of that padding I know you hate. Your skin would get a little softer are more girlish, so you might be able to go without makeup sometimes. Your penis would grow smaller, so you could get a looser undergarment."

I snorted. "And next year I could just register as a girl again, since I'd practically look like one!"

"Don't be silly Dale. The estrogen would be fighting your testosterone. As soon as you stopped taking it all the new effects would go away. You'd slowly start to feminize, but you'd turn back into a man much more rapidly."

"But what if I started to like guys? I can't risk that!"

Jenni shook her head. "No chance. Sexual persuasion is all in the mind. Hormones can lower your sex drive, but not change it."

"Would I grow boobs?"

"Well, they say that your nipples enlarge and become more sensitive. Fat is redistributed to the chest, so I guess you would eventually grow tiny ones, though I'm not sure that you'd have time to do that. Just like all the other characteristics, they'd disappear when you stopped the estrogen. Here, look at this."

She handed me a color printout. It was contained two columns of photos. On the left where pictures of guys, ranging from wimpy to studly. On the right hand side were pictures of various women, ranging from plain to sexy. It didn't take long for me to realized that the women were actually the men after hormone therapy.

One picture showed a skinny, black-haired guy standing on a beach. He was wearing swimming trunks. The corresponding photo showed a curvy, topless woman posed erotically before a fireplace. She had very small breasts, but they were definitely something you would not find on a man. The nipples struck me especially; they were dark and erect. Her painted fingers covered her crotch and, I supposed, 'her' penis.

Another picture showed a blonde guy with his arm around a woman. 'Tim,' the first picture was labeled. The other picture showed a lovely, long haired blonde, wearing a one-piece bathing suit. 'Tamara,' said the other photo.

I handed the paper back to Jenni. "I dunno, sis. This seems like a drastic step."

"Think of it this way, Dale. You'll stop having to worry about not having dates, and you can ditch those pads and the girdle. You dress like, live like, and act like a woman. Would looking a little more like one really hurt?"

"Jenni, if I agree to do this, please don't tease me. Don't act like I'm enjoying this."

"Dale, I swear to God I wouldn't do that. I know things are rough for you and I'm not liking it either."

"Thanks Jenni. Okay, I'll take the hormones."

Jenni immediately placed a call to a distributor in Germany. The pills were Fed-exxed to me within the week.

Chapter Seven:

Soon it was winter. I had been on the estrogen pills for four months now and could already tell a difference. For starters, my sex-drive was now all but non-existent. I no longer brooded about not being able to get a date. Even when I was in the women's locker room I never even looked at the naked women around me (well, maybe once or twice).

Of course, not all the changes were mental. My penis seemed smaller and I could no longer make it hard. Thanks to the hormones, I bought a much looser sex hiding device. There wasn't as much to hide, now.

My skin seemed much softer. It was like it wasn't my own any more, it seemed too delicate. My hair also felt a little silkier. My muscle tone decreased. Feats of strength that I had taken for granted in the past now were difficult, if not impossible. I sometimes had to ask John to help me move things that I had easily lifted months ago.

The fat on my body began to redistribute itself. Instead of excess flab congregating in my belly, it began to gather in my chest and hips. I no longer needed to stick the Maxis in my panties; my rear and hips were now large enough not to require them. I also ditched the girdle. While I still didn't have an hourglass figure, I felt I was shapely enough on my own to do without that uncomfortable thing.

My chest was also swelling. I didn't have anything close to a woman's chest, but I was 'blossoming.' There were definite mounds under my nipples that had not been there before. I wondered how big they would be by the summer. My nipples were a much darker shade of brown than before and they seemed to cover a larger area. They were also a lot more sensitive. While caressing my penis no longer produced the sexual stimulation it once had, playing with my nipples turned me on a little.

I really didn't care for all these changes, but they were tolerable. Getting rid of the padding was nice and the lowered sex drive certainly made me a lot calmer. Besides, all these effects were only temporary. School ended in June, I could survive another half year like this.

In retrospect, I think my plans to change back into a guy over the summer would have gone perfectly, had it not been for the great meningitis outbreak.

They still talk about it on campus. That winter, the state was hit by the worst meningitis outbreak of this century. Half the campus was sick. For the first time in the university's 150 year history all classes were cancelled. Play practice was suspended indefinitely. The campus dining halls shut down.

While John and I managed to avoid the illness, Jenni and Leroy both got it bad and were bedridden for a week. I played nursemaid to both of them, bringing them chicken soup and taking care of them. I knew taking such an interest in Leroy would make it appear that we were more than just friends, but I had no choice. His parents lived out of the state and he was in no position to take care of himself.

Then, just when it looked like everyone was going to recover, I got some bad news. It seemed that the campus health service feared another possible outbreak of the disease, this one worse than before. In order to prevent this, every student, faculty, and staff member had to go to the campus hospital for a complete physical. A clean bill of health would be required to register for the next semester.

I was scared. I didn't want to go to my appointment; a doctor might see through my disguise. I voiced my concerns to Jenni, who told me not to worry. "They've had to see so many patients this week that they won't spend any more time with you than necessary. Just tell them you feel great and they probably won't do anything more than take your pulse."

Nervous, but knowing that I really had no choice, I went to my appointment. The sign on the office door I was directed to read "Dr. Alice Auger, M.D." I was eventually summoned inside.

The doctor told me to sit on the examination table. She was rather young to be a doctor, she couldn't have been older than thirty. She was pretty in a no-nonsense type of way. When I entered she was leafing through a manila folder. Finally she looked up.

"So Mr. Simmons, would you care to tell me why you've been pretending to be a woman this year?"

I felt dizzy. The nightmare had come true. I was found out, and by a school authority at that. All she had to do was report me to the dean and I'd be flipping burgers for the rest of my life. I tried to act surprised. "Pretending? Whatever do you mean?"

Dr. Auger's grey eyes turned cold. "Why I mean, young man, is that you can falsify your college records, but your medical records are with you for your entire life. Look here," she said, indicating an old test result "Simmons, Dale R. MALE."

I tried to laugh it off. "You obviously have the test results of some other Dale."

The doctor handed me a photo out of my file. "Look familiar?" she asked. I recognized the snapshot. It was a Polaroid my old doctor had taken of me after the physical I needed to play high school basketball. He said he took pictures of all his patients so that their records couldn't be mistaken for someone else's. He was right, now I couldn't say the file belonged to anyone but me. Thanks a lot, doc!

"I've been looking at your school records," continued the doctor. "you registered as a woman, and since you haven't had any trouble going to class, you must be dressing like this full time." She snapped the file shut, angrily. "Now should I have you kicked out of school now, or do you want to try to explain this?"

I explained. It was like a dam bursting; once I started I couldn't stop myself. All the truth came out, about Jenni, Steve, the internet, Leroy, and the hormones. I pulled a snapshot of Jenni out of my purse to prove she wasn't a fabrication. I ended by telling the doctor that she could call Jenni or John if she wanted to confirm my story.

I couldn't bring myself to look at Dr. Auger the story. By the time I was finished I had my head in my hands, crying. All my struggles this year, everything I had worked for, all my desperate attempts not to get kicked out of school had just blown up in my face. I just wanted to pack my things and leave town. Start all over in another city.

I was shocked when I felt the gentle pressure of Dr. Auger's hand on my shoulder. "You poor thing," I heard her say. I looked up at her. She was no longer looking at me with anger, but with pity.

She turned and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. "You'll have to forgive me Mr...uh, Ms...you'll have to forgive me Dale. Thanks to the health crisis, I haven't had a good night's sleep in over a week. I shouldn't have blown up at you like that. I didn't think you could have a reasonable explanation for your deception, but you did."

I let out a half laugh/half cry. "So you're not going to report me?"

Dr. Auger looked strangely distant. "No, I'm not."

I did laugh this time. "So everything's okay?"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not."

My spirits sank. "What's wrong?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"Well, for starters, I don't like this mail-order hormone business. I'm going to prescribe you some myself, you should be under a doctor's care. But that's not our main problem." Despite my worry, I noticed that she said 'our' problem instead of 'your' problem.

"Our main problem," she continued "is that in order for me to check your lungs with a stethoscope, I'll have to ask you to take off your shirt. And then the fact that you are a man would be obvious, even if I hadn't looked at your file. If I don't report this, then I'd be falsifying patient records, which goes against my medical ethics."

"I don't suppose you'd bend the rules, this once?" I asked, hopefully.

"Bending the rules isn't the issue, Dale. If you were ever to be found out, then people would know that I had helped you deceive the school. Either that or they'd think that I did such a shoddy examination that I didn't even know your true sex. Either way I'd be fired, and probably loose my medical license."

"But," I protested meekly "I won't get caught! I'm extra careful and I only have to do this for one more semester."

The doctor shook her head. "You can't guarantee that. You could get spotted in a rest room, or tear your shirt on something, or be in an accident and get rushed to the hospital. I'm sorry, but I doubt if emergency room doctors will be all understanding as I am."

"But those are crazy situations. They probably wouldn't happen!"

"Dale, I've busted my ass in medical school to become a doctor and I'm still not even close to having my loans paid off. I can't risk all that I've worked for, my entire future, on 'probably won't.'"

I was glad I was in a hospital, I felt positively ill. I knew I couldn't ask her to risk her whole career for me. "So what do I do now?" I asked. "Drop out?"

The doctor gave me her pitying smile again. "Well, there may be a way out for both of us. I think I can trust you to keep what's in your panties a secret until June. Your lack of breasts, on the other hand, well...that's what scares me."

"Would more hormones give me breasts?" I asked, not sure that I really wanted my own set, for whatever reason.

"No, not in the time frame we're looking at. What I had in mind was implants. I have a colleague who has developed a new type of breast implant. Nothing revolutionary, they're just a little more durable than what's available now. In order for him to get them approved by the FDA he has to allow a group of volunteers to use them for eight months. You know, to make sure there are no side-effects. I'm sure there won't be, but rules are rules. I'd like to sign you up for this study. If you have breast implants then I'm willing to not say anything about your true sex. You won't be charged anything for the surgery and you can have them removed in late August."

I was flabbergasted at her suggestion. "Implants? Are you nuts? I don't want breasts! I didn't ask for any of this, it was all forced on me. I couldn't have them removed in August anyway. I'm going to use the summer to transition from a female life to a male one."

"Dale, the FDA requires eight months. Their rules are very strict. So are mine: implants or drop out."

"You know I can't do either!"

"One or the other."

Christmas break was nearly over. Jenni and I had no real desire to spend the holidays with our mother. Instead, we had just had a quiet celebration in my apartment.

Christmas break was also the time I had scheduled the surgery for. As I figured it, there was no other way out. Eight months with breasts or drop out of school.

The day after classes let out for the break I checked into the hospital. Dr. Auger (who had since insisted that I call her Alice) had made all the arrangements. She helped me to my room, explained to me exactly what the process would entail, and was even there when the anesthesia took effect.

"Don't worry," I remembered her saying as I went under. "Everything is going to be all right. And when you wake up you'll have a lovely pair of breasts."

What I woke up with was a dull ache in my chest. My upper torso was totally swathed in bandages, I couldn't tell what the results of the surgery looked like. I felt heavier up top; it was like they had bandaged over my falsies.

That was almost a month ago. It was now early January and classes started tomorrow. It was time for the bandages to come off. True, the dressings had been changed weekly at the hospital since the surgery, but I had always closed my eyes while my chest was scrubbed and rebandaged. I knew my new breasts would look pretty torn up after the operation and I didn't want to see them until they were as healed as possible.

I stood in front of the full-length mirror that Jenni had bought me for Christmas. I was in my room with the door locked. I was wearing only my sex-hiding underwear and the bandages on my chest. Even practically naked, I felt that I looked damn girlish. The hormones had certainly done their job, I now looked more like a woman than I ever had. I was worried about the next school year: if I had to stay like this all summer then there wouldn't be much time for me to 'change back' before classes.

I picked up the pair of hospital scissors that I would use to clip the wrappings. I hesitated. I put them down and picked them up again. Finally, I closed my eyes and cut. I felt the bandages fall away and opened my eyes.

There they were. The objects I had fantasized about since I was eleven or twelve. Breasts. Boobs. Hooters. Tits. Still slightly bruised, they hung from my chest down to the bottom of my rib cage. My enlarged nipples were no longer under my shirt pocket, but a couple of inches lower. The cold air caused them to harden. They certainly looked more in place now!

I swayed a bit to the left. So did my new appendages. I felt the right one rub against the left one. That was another odd sensation: sensitivity in places that didn't even exist before. I leaned ahead. My breasts swung forward like two fatty pendulums. I could almost touch them with my face. I lay down flat on my back. They flattened out, gently sliding down upon my chest.

I still hadn't had the nerve to touch them. They seemed so unreal! Finally, I reached up my hand and ran it down the left one. Soft, not unlike a water balloon. I ran my finger through the cleavage (I had cleavage now!). The valley was warm and yielding. I touched the nipple. Hard, and much more sensitive. I held breast in my hand. It was heavier than I had thought it would be. It was a strange and stimulating sensation. Just last year I had been thrilled by my one and only contact with human breasts. Now I had an even bigger pair growing on my own body!

I sat down on my bed and stared at them for a good fifteen minutes. Then I looked in the mirror and studied my body. A stranger now stared back at me. Who was this woman in the glass? Were was that college man who had so confidently moved in here a few months ago? Where was the masculine figure, the manly face? Wherever it was, it sure wasn't in the glass. What was between my legs was all that was left of my past.

I felt dizzy and sat down again. This wasn't right! How could helping my sister have gone so far? Whose fault was it? Before, I could have just chucked the female side of me whenever I felt I couldn't take it anymore. Now I was stuck as a woman until I could arrange for the corrective surgery.

Could I live for eight months like this? Could I go back to being a man afterwards? Would I ever be able to forget this side of me? I didn't know, only time would tell.

I spent a good three hours 'getting to know' my new chest. That may seem like a long time, but keep in mind I had developed my breasts in one day. With real women the process takes years. Finally, I decided to get dressed.

First, I tossed the mastectomy bra in my bottom drawer. Another piece of padding gone. All that was left was the rubber thing that kept my penis hidden. When I got right down to it, I could even go out without that if my clothes were loose enough. My penis was now small enough that it really didn't show. I had even taken to peeing sitting down. In public restrooms I sat so no one would be surprised by an upright pair of legs under the stall door. Now it was second nature.

When I thought about it, the only thing (besides my penis, or course) that distinguished me from an actual woman was my failure to menstruate. To myself, to John, to Jenni, I was a man. To the world at large, I was a woman.

I pulled on a bra that I had stolen from Jenni. It was too small. I pulled on one of the ones I had recently purchased at the department store. That one was a little big, but adequate. I figured I was about a 'C' cup. The bra supported me in a way that was reassuring. It was nice to be able to walk without the darn things bouncing around, and a lot less uncomfortable.

I pulled on some jeans, and then a front-buttoning blouse. It no longer fit; my real breasts were bigger than the fake ones had been. I pulled on another shirt. It fit, but tightly. I unbuttoned the first few buttons and let the cleft of my breasts show. Erotic, I looked like the naughty secretary on some porno video. Finally, I put on a sweater. Even through that I could tell how huge they were. They also looked more realistic than the fakes. They moved and jiggled more like the real things.

I made up my face. Then, with some stage makeup I had got at the drama department, I covered up the surgical bruises the best I could. When I was finished I called Jenni and asked her if she wanted to have dinner. She said she'd be right over.

I had decided not to tell her about the surgery. Up until the last minute I had been afraid that I would wuss out. I figured if she knew she'd force me to go through with it. Now I figured there'd be no point in hiding them.

When Jenni came over, I lured her into my room on a pretext. I then asked her what she thought of the sweater I was wearing.

"To tell you the truth Dale, I don't care for it. It doesn't match your complexion. You know, there's something different about you. Did you do something new with your hair?"

I smiled, the picture of innocence. "Nothing new I can think of. Let me just change real quick." I pulled off my sweater.

Jenni's scream was so loud that it brought John pounding on my locked door, asking if we were okay.

"We're fine," I hollered back.

It took Jenni a few seconds to be able to say anything. "Dale...how?" she stammered.

I explained everything to her. She just sat there, staring at my chest like a drunk frat boy, her eyes as big as saucers.

"So, what do you think?" I ventured.

Jenni shook her head, as if to clear it. "Dale," she began. "I don't want you to take this the wrong way. I don't want to hurt your feelings, I just think you need to know the truth."

I was a little shocked by this. I had figured she would have complimented me on rising to the occasion and doing what I had to do.

"Dale," she went on, "you look absolutely adorable! They're beautiful! Please don't be hurt, but you're a doll."

"Well, better to have them look good than to look bad, I suppose." At least Jenni liked them, for a second I was afraid she was going to say I had made a big mistake. Two big mistakes, I guess.

"Why didn't you tell me, you silly person? Why the surprise?"

"Like they say at the drama school, 'the entrance is everything.' You were pretty taken aback, right?"

"To say the least! We have to go clothes shopping! You'll need lots of new tops, especially for warm weather. Why, you could even wear a bikini top now!"

"Calm down Jenni. Eight months, no more. I'll buy whatever I need to, but no point in throwing money away."

Jenni looked a little sad. "I know, but you do make a great woman. Don't be offended, it's true. I don't suppose you'd like to try it for two years? Not many guys get to experience life from a woman's point of view."

"Not many guys want to. Sorry. Come August, off they come."

Jenni nodded, wistfully. "Well, enjoy them while you can then." A thought seemed to hit her. "Hey, does John know?"

"No," I replied. "He just got back from his parents' place today."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go give him a shock!"

I pulled on a blouse and unbuttoned it almost to my navel. We found John in the kitchen, reading the Sunday comics. Though it was seven at night he was wearing his bathrobe and sipping coffee like he had just gotten up.

"Hi, big boy," I said, it my most sultry voice.

He glanced up, then went back to his funnies. "Hey Dale. Hi Jenni. Boy, I would not want to be in Beetle Bailey's shoes right now!"

Jenni and I walked back to the living room. A few seconds later we heard a crash as John half jumped, half fell out of his chair. He rushed into the living room and stared at me, as if to confirm what he thought he had seen. His face asked the question that his mouth couldn't.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I replied coyly. I buttoned my blouse and left for dinner with Jenni, leaving behind a very confused John.

(continued)