Contest And Consequence

by Sarah Bayen

Part Eleven

 

I woke the next morning still feeling happy and dizzy. I got washed, and dressed. My knickers that morning, from the collection Anita had given me, told me I was going to be a 'lucky girl' that day. I hoped they were right.

"Dressing as a girl today?" asked my Mum casually over breakfast.

I blushed a little. "I don't think so," and carried on eating.

"Well you might want to dress up a bit later; for your girlfriend."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Liz," she explained. "Your Dad invited her around to tea this evening. Didn't you hear him?"

"No," I replied honestly. This was awful. How would Liz react to the ordinary household fayre that we subsisted on? "What are we going to have?"

"Well I think that's up to you. She's your guest; you can cook for her," my Mum announced.

I had hardly ever even bothered to make sandwiches, let alone a full dinner. "Oh Mum!" I protested.

"Don't oh Mum me!" she exclaimed. "I don't see why I should have to do extra work for your girlfriends. You cook."

"But I don't know what to make!" I protested.

"Well you'd better learn quick. There's plenty of cookery books on the shelf," she added, indicating a rack of books in the kitchen, which I had never looked at. My heart began to race. Not only was Liz coming around for dinner after school, but she was also going to have to face the ordeal of my cooking! Still, my Mum seemed adamant. I would have to give it a go.

"All right," I said at last. "I'll do something. Will you at least give me some advice on it?"

My Mum looked firmly at me. "All right," she said, relenting a little. "I suggest you do Spaghetti Bolognaise. That's simple enough, and your Dad likes it."

"I hope Liz does!" I moaned.

Mum shook her head. "I expect she will. I'll make sure you've got all the ingredients. You can start when you get home from school."

I suddenly remembered I was due to see David from the shop that afternoon. "I might be a bit late," I stated, nervously. "Sue and me have got to go to the shop to see what's what after Saturday."

My Mum looked at me. "I thought you weren't dressing as a girl today."

I blushed again. "Well, I won't be really," I said, by way of justification. "I'll still wear trousers anyway. If he thinks I'm a girl, that's his problem."

My Mum shook her head. "I don't know. By the way, another girl rang you up last night when you were with Liz. I didn't say anything last night, in case it caused you any trouble."

"Who was it?"

"I wrote it down somewhere. It's not a name I recognised. Oh here we are, Janet."

Oh God, I thought to myself. She was still waiting for Peter's answer. I hadn't got around to telling her yesterday. "She said she'd see you at school today," my Mum went on. "What is it with you and girls?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well ever since you put on that dress last week, you seem to have girls around you like wasps around a honey pot."

I protested that I didn't know what she was talking about. I went back upstairs to get my bag, and made sure I put a bra and my wig in it. I didn't want to fall foul of Nancy again for looking too much like a boy. Just to be sure, I took some of the make up out of my shoulder bag, and slipped it into my school bag. As I did so, I realised it would be a good idea to have some for the visit to the shop that afternoon as well.

I walked down to the station, and still felt a little uncomfortable in my school trousers. They seemed to keep catching around the crotch, and hung rather uncomfortably against my legs. Still, I seemed to be getting the hang of walking in shoes without heels again; my legs weren't aching, and I managed quite a good pace. I found my friends on the train, but once again, Anita wasn't there. I'd obviously managed to upset her more than I realised by refusing to go around to her house the night before.

The only shock on the journey was seeing Lawrence in his schoolgirl outfit again. He seemed blissfully happy, and indeed unaware that there was anything amiss. "Are you sure you should be wearing that?" I whispered to him, while the others carried on another conversation.

"Of course!" he snapped. "I like it."

"I know you do, but won't people think it's a bit odd. I mean, it was all right for the contest, but if you keep doing it, people are going to get a bit funny about it."

He looked at me crossly for a moment, and then broke into a smile. "It's all right. I've told everyone I'm doing it for charity."

My mind snapped back to Liz telling my Mum and Dad the same thing. It seemed that charity events could cover a multitude of reasons to dress as a girl.

"I've even got myself sponsored. Breast Cancer Research gets £25.50 for every day I dress up like this to school. It's good!"

He seemed very pleased with the arrangement, and entirely at home in his uniform. I felt a pang of regret that I had resolved never to wear a skirt again. I spent the rest of the journey worrying about having to cook Liz a meal when I got home again.

On the walk up to school, someone came up behind me, and laid a hand on my shoulder. I jumped, and turned to look. It was Janet. She looked embarrassed and held me back a while until my friends had moved on, and couldn't overhear what she was going to say.

"Did you manage to speak to Peter?" she whispered urgently.

"Yes," I replied.

"What did he say?" she asked, her face contorting in an agony of anticipation. "Will he go out with me or not?"

"He didn't exactly say," I replied. "He wants you to meet him by the sports changing rooms after cheerleading practice."

"Cheerleading practice?" she asked, puzzled. It hadn't even occurred to me that she didn't know anything about this, and a felt a twinge of embarrassment.

"It's just something we're doing for the school," I said, trying to brush it over. God, people would think we were dressing as girls all the time if this got out in the wrong way. Luckily Janet didn't seem to pay this much attention, being more engrossed in the Peter issue.

"What time?" she asked, miserably.

I shrugged. "I don't know. We finished at about twelve yesterday. Try about then."

She nodded, and we walked into the school. As we got to the entrance, she turned around to face me again. "I almost forgot," she said. "Thanks Sarah."

"My name's Steve!" I insisted. She just smiled, and walked away.

I made my way to my homeroom, and registered my presence. We stayed in there talking and messing around for some time; lessons were more or less suspended. Before I knew it, it was time to make my way to the school fields for the cheerleading practice. Making my excuses, I picked up my bag and left. Mentally I checked that I had everything; bra, padding, wig, make-up; yes, it was all there. Nancy shouldn't be able to criticise anything other than my inability to jump and prance.

I got to the changing rooms, which were locked. Looking at my watch, I saw it was five minutes to ten. I was early. I felt a little self-conscious hanging around outside the girls' changing rooms, so I walked a little way away, and sat down on the grass. It was not so warm today, the sun was shining occasionally, but there were several large cloudbanks in the sky, scuttling across, and blocking it out. After a couple of minutes, I saw Nancy Underwood, and Peter walking across the field towards me, deep in conversation.

"Well yes I have got some more uniforms, and in a larger size," Nancy was saying, as she walked towards me, carrying a huge bag. "But why won't you tell me who it is?"

"I can't. Not just yet," Peter replied.

Nancy saw me, and smiled. "Hi Sarah!" she said in greeting. "Have you brought your wig and your bra today?"

"Yes," I replied, wishing that she would talk a little quieter.

"Excellent!" she replied. "And where's Lucy?"

"He'll be here in a minute," I responded.

"Okay," Nancy said, as she unlocked the door to the changing rooms, and waltzed inside. "I'll just dig out your wig and bra Ronnie," she went on, "and the three costumes."

"Ronnie?" I asked, as Nancy disappeared inside.

Peter looked a little sheepish as he stood beside me. "It's short for Veronica," he explained. I looked at him quizzically. He seemed suddenly to be happy enough with his girl's name.

"Here you go then," Nancy went on brightly as she reappeared, handing Peter a long blonde wig, rather like the one he had worn to the contest, and a rather plain looking bra. "It's a sports bra," she explained. "Not very sexy I'm afraid, but quite practical."

"I'm sure it'll do the trick," Peter said. "Thanks."

"Well you two get yourself togged up, we can't keep waiting for Lucy." Nancy went on, walking back out through the door, and motioning for us to go in. "Ronnie says he's got a new recruit for the team," she said to me. "He won't tell me who it is though, see if you can get it out of him."

I looked at him doubtfully. Who could he have persuaded to dress up as a cheerleader?

We both started to undress, and put on the costumes Nancy had sorted out for us. I took off my shirt, and took the bra out of my bag, and untangled it. I slipped it over my shoulders, and with rather more expertise than I should have admitted, did it up at the back. Peter was doing the same with his, which was plain, white and seamless.

"Did you see Lawrence's boobs yesterday?" he suddenly asked.

I looked around, but he was engrossed in trying to fasten his bra. "Yes," I said guardedly.

"Didn't they look fantastic?" he went on. "Those bust form things he had really made a difference, especially when he moved."

I wasn't sure where this was leading. Peter's sudden enthusiasm for the subject was difficult to understand. "I'm not sure what you mean," I replied at length, as I sat down to take off my shoes, and remove my trousers.

"They way they moved!" he went on, insistently. "Your boobs and mine, well, they just sort of sit there don't they? Whereas his, well, they move about when he does, like they're supposed to."

"I didn't really notice," I replied.

He had finally finished with his bra, and like me, was padding them out with some socks. I had to admit, they didn't look anywhere near as good as Lawrence's with his plastic boobs. I looked down at mine as well. The shape wasn't too bad, but there was no doubt, if I had really wanted to look like a real girl, the bust forms Max had bought for Lawrence would have been a real benefit.

"I'm jealous," Peter confessed eventually. "I'm thinking of seeing whether I can get myself some."

I picked up the cheerleading top and slipped it over my head. "Why?" I asked.

He giggled. "Don't be so dense!" he said. "So my boobs look better."
"But why do you want better looking boobs?" I countered. "We're only doing this for a laugh aren't we?"

He stared long and hard at me, and after a few moments shrugged. "Maybe," he said. "But if a thing's worth doing, it's worth doing properly. That's what I think anyway."

I didn't have time to think of what to say next, because at that moment, Lawrence himself walked in, still wearing his schoolgirl uniform.

"Hi," he said brightly, and then turned back to the door, speaking to someone outside. "Yes okay," he said, waving and smiling. "We'll see you later."

He walked across to join us. "Honestly!" he went on smiling. "Girls! Until I started dressing like this, they never paid me any attention. Now they won't leave me alone!"

"Who was it then?" I asked.

"Oh just some girls from the football team. They're having a practice as well. Nancy said she might let them see our routine once we've got it sorted, to see if they liked it."

I was taken aback. The thought of prancing around in front of the football team dressed as a cheerleader filled me with dread. I realised almost immediately that this was pretty irrational. We were going to have to do exactly that tomorrow, during the match. Why did it seem worse to have to do it now?

Lawrence quickly and efficiently began to undress, and I saw that Peter already had his top on, and was walking across to the mirror to make sure his wig was straight. I picked up my skirt; no, I told myself, it wasn't a skirt. It was just the bottom half of my costume. I didn't wear skirts any more. Somehow, it seemed to me that if I refused to call it a skirt, even in my own mind, then it wouldn't be one. I stepped into the bottom half of my costume, and pulled it up. It seemed even shorter than the day before, and looking cautiously in the mirror, I checked to see if my bum and thighs looked too fat. Strangely, today, they looked a tolerable size, which relieved me somewhat.

I slipped my wig on, and went over to one of the mirrors to apply some make-up. I don't know what inspired me to this, but something told me that if I was going to make a good cheerleader, then I'd better look my best. At length we were all ready, and checking with each other, we walked through the door to the outside.

To my relief, only Nancy was there waiting for us. I had a horror that the entire girls' football team would be waiting to greet us, but, looking into the distance, I could see that they were jogging around the pitch, presumably in some sort of warm up exercise. I strained my eyes to see if I could see Liz there, but before I could focus, Nancy's strident voice commanded our attention.

"Well you took your time," she admonished. "It's nearly a quarter past now." She looked us up and down. "Still, I suppose it was worth it," she conceded. "You look pretty hot today. Well done."

"Thank you," Lawrence responded with his sweetest voice and smile. Nancy looked at him askance for a moment, and then called us to order.

We were really put through our paces that day. After a brief warm up, Nancy had us working on our main routine, which as well as the jumping and kicking, also involved us in shouting out the name of the school, and clapping time. I soon began to feel quite warm, especially under my wig. I chanced a glance across at Lawrence to see if I could see what Peter had meant about the way his boobs moved. I was amazed to see them bounce up and down as he jumped and swayed from side to side. They certainly did look a whole lot more realistic than mine ever would, and like Peter, I felt the need to get myself a pair as well, without rationalising why I wanted to have better boobs. Perhaps I could get Liz to buy me some, I thought.

We went through the routine time and time again, and Nancy criticised our performance over and over again. We were not smiling enough; we weren't enthusiastic enough about our kicking, or our waving. Eventually we were given a pair of pompoms each to emphasise the waving motions. I felt a bit stupid at first, swinging a pair of what looked to me like pale blue sea anemones around, but after a while got into it. We even began to co-operate with one another to make patterns with them, and I could see from the looks on their faces that Lawrence and Peter were getting as much of a buzz out of this as me.

We were eventually allowed a little breather, and the three of us collapsed to the floor, heedless of showing our boy cut knickers to the world.

"Right," Nancy said, after allowing us to catch our breath. "I've got a bit of a treat for you in a minute."

"What's that?" asked Peter.

"Well, I'm going to get the guys in the team to come and have a look at the routine. It is for them actually, isn't it? So it's only fair that they should get a preview."
Lawrence had forewarned us of this, but it still made me feel nervous. We probably weren't all that good, and the skirt, or rather, the bottom half of my costume, was ridiculously short. "I'm not sure we're ready for that Miss Underwood!" I protested.

"Oh come on Sarah," she said, smiling. "The match is tomorrow. If you're not ready now, you never will be. You just wait here, while I gather them up."

She went off to the football pitch where the girls were practising, and we looked at one another.

"This is really scary!" Lawrence volunteered. "All those girls watching us!"

"I know," Peter agreed. "Still, like Nancy said, it is for them really."

"Yeah," Lawrence agreed. "We need to put on a good show to put them in the mood to win. Are you all right Sarah?"

"Steve," I insisted. "Yes, I suppose so. I feel a bit self conscious in this," I hesitated. "Short costume."

"Yeah," Lawrence agreed, giggling. "They are a bit daring aren't they? I tell you what, if we're going to put on a show for the girls, I think we should freshen up a bit first don't you?"

"Good idea!" Peter agreed, and we all quickly went into the changing room. I wasn't sure what 'freshening up' might involve, but I was a bit hot and bothered from all the practicing, and getting some cold water on my face seemed a good idea.

We went to the sinks, and I did just that, making myself feel a bit better. I looked across, and saw that Lawrence had got out his make up bag, and was busily applying some mascara to himself.

"Can I borrow that after you?" Peter asked him, looking on in admiration.

"Sure," Lawrence agreed. "Do you need to borrow it as well Sarah?"

"Steve," I reminded him. "No, I've got my own somewhere."

"Fair enough."

With some reluctance, I went over to my hook, and took the make up out of my school bag. I wasn't entirely sure we should do this, but if Peter and Lawrence were going to perform properly made up, I certainly didn't want to look out of place. Looking carefully at myself in the mirror, I put on a little bit of lipstick, and some eye shadow, before following the others' lead, and mascaraing my eyes. I lost myself in the act of doing this, and when I had finished, I noticed that Peter and Lawrence were tidying up their wigs.

"I think we should try and put our hair into ponytails." Lawrence announced. "It'd be good if we all did that wouldn't it? We'd look more like a team."

"Yes," agreed Peter, and Lawrence helped him tie his hair back. I had to admit it did look good with the two of them in matching hairstyles, and allowed Lawrence to tie mine back as well.

"There!" he announced when he had finished. "That looks better doesn't it?"

Despite his confidence, we all stared carefully at ourselves in the mirror to check. There was a knock on the door.

"What are you guys doing in there?" Nancy's voice asked. "The girls are all here ready and waiting."

"We won't be a minute!" Lawrence replied quickly, and we all turned to face each other. "Are we ready then?" he asked, biting his lip nervously. "This is it!"

Peter and I nodded, and with butterflies in our stomachs, we walked across to the door. With a momentary pause, Lawrence opened it, and we walked back outside. We were immediately greeted by a chorus of wolf whistles, and appreciative cat calls from the gaggle of fifteen or so girls who were waiting for our arrival. I glanced around, and saw Liz, smiling with what looked like pride at me. I smiled back, and she gave me a little wave.

"Oh God I feel nervous!" Lawrence whispered, although from the look on his face, it seemed to me that his emotions contained at least a dose of elation.

"Nice legs!" I heard someone call.

"Nice boobs!" said another.

I recognised one other face in the threatening crowd, Andrea, Sue's sister. She smiled at me as well, and I blushed. She knew that I had spent the weekend dressed as a girl; I just prayed she didn't decide to tell the others.

"Well you look nice!" Nancy told us, looking us up and down. "That's exactly how you need to look for the match tomorrow. I tell you what, how about I get you all some matching hair ribbons?"

"Good idea!" one of the footballing girls agreed.

"Yeah," Nancy mused, tilting her head to one side. "I think you might look even cuter like that."

I felt unusually vulnerable, standing there in my tiny skirt. I quickly corrected myself; I didn't wear skirts did I? I meant in my tiny costume. Having fifteen pairs of eyes fixed on me didn't help at all, and I could almost feel each of them lighting on my legs, my chest, and wherever else they felt like wandering. Each of the girls had what looked to me like a rabid smile on their faces, delighting in the sight of us, and in the role reversal that Nancy had contrived for them. I felt myself blushing, and was sure that I would never be able to execute any of the moves we had been practising.

"Hey, cute knickers!" one of the girls exclaimed. Horrified, I instinctively tugged at the hem of my costume, not knowing whether it was I, or one of the others who had let them show.

"I've got some more pairs just like them if you want some Bobbie!" Nancy announced mischievously, instantly wiping the smile off Bobbie's face. The girls around her laughed to add to her embarrassment.

"Oh God no!" she exclaimed in horror at the thought. "You'd never catch me wearing anything like that!"

There was another round of laughter at Bobbie's expense, and then Nancy clapped her hands to get everyone's attention.

"Okay guys!" she said. "I told you these three," she hesitated for effect, "brave girls have agreed to lead the cheers for you tomorrow. They wanted to give you a quick preview of their routines to check whether it raised your spirits properly."

"They're certainly raising something!" one of the girls retorted, creating another round of laughter.

"Now no need for that," Nancy admonished. "I want you to treat them properly, like young ladies!"

"I'd love to!" another announced, to further laughter.

Nancy turned to us. "Are you ready then girls?"

My anxiety levels had gone through the roof. The footballers were obviously lapping up our discomfort, and there was glee on every face that stared at me. I was acutely aware of my boobs jutting out in front of me pertly, and the amount of flesh I had on show. I turned to look at my companions; neither looked as nervous as I felt. Lawrence was grinning almost as much as the spectators, and Peter had a calm, almost serene look on his face.

"In your own time," Nancy suggested, to urge us on.

Then we were away. Lawrence started us off, and Peter and I went through the moves we had been practicing. I felt jerky, and uncoordinated, but somehow managed to get through the first set of moves, waving my arms, and jumping, more or less in time.

"Smile!" Lawrence urged me, in a whisper, as we whisked past each other in an elaborate move Nancy had choreographed. I did as I was asked, and, somehow, it seemed to reduce my anxiety a little.

At the end of this first routine, we turned our backs to the audience, and chanting the name of the school, bent down to touch the floor. There was a roar of approval from the watching girls, and a chorus of applause as we finished.

We turned, as practiced, back to face them, and I looked at them as they stared back at us. The next few moves involved looking directly at them, and jumping in turn with our pompoms in our hands. Their eyes were fixed on us, and rather than ridicule or humour, I noticed that something different was filling their expressions. I wasn't sure what it was at first; admiration, envy, or something else? We moved into a kicking routine, each of us in turn, kicking forward with first one leg, and then the other. The girls' eyes were nearly on stalks, and a number of their mouths opened. I was astonished. We were having an effect on them; it was our dancing now that governed their thoughts and their moods. On my next kick, I lifted my leg even higher, and thrust my chest forward as I landed. Fifteen sets of eyes were glued to me as I did so, and I felt powerful, a different sort of power than I had ever felt before, but powerful nonetheless. My smile became genuine as I revelled in the experience. These girls were appreciating me!

Peter and Lawrence were obviously experiencing something similar, and our routine became so much better than when we had practiced it alone. The girls were enraptured by our every move, and we teased them with every movement, and smiled winningly at them all. I didn't want the show to end, and picking up on this, Peter and Lawrence continued on at what should have been the close with a sort of encore of some of the best bits of what Nancy had taught us. Lawrence stepped slightly ahead of us, and got the girls to clap along to one of our chants, and we leapt and swayed some more. The beat got hold of us, and carried us along, right to the climax, where we jumped in the air, one by one, holding our pompoms high, and landed, kneeling on one knee.

I was flushed, not from embarrassment, or even exertion, but from euphoria. All three of us held our positions, with the pompoms held aloft, as our audience, realising the show was over, began to clap their appreciation. Nancy walked between us and them, clapping too, and after a suitable length of time, and several more wolf whistles and catcalls, held her arms up for quiet.

"Well then you guys," she said, addressing the football players, "What did you think of that?"

There was a chorus of cheers, and several appreciative comments, including some about boobs and knickers.

"And do you think they'll perk you up for the game tomorrow?" she asked.

Again there was a chorus of agreement, and a couple of ribald jokes about upness, at which Lawrence turned to me and grinned. Nancy called for another round of applause, and we stood up and smiled in return. Suddenly the whole group of fifteen moved forwards towards us, and for a moment, I felt a little threatened. The girls were all older than me, and sporty, and like Liz, were well built and muscular. They were hot and dirty from their own practice, but had purposeful grins on their faces as they walked forward. I saw Liz amongst them, and, to my relief, saw that she was making my way. I didn't think any of the others would try it on with me with her by my side, and I was right.

"You were fantastic," she said, as she stood in front of me, smiling appreciatively at me, and placing a hand delicately on my shoulder. My body at once began to shout out for her, and distracted by its reaction, I could only manage feeble thanks in reply.

"No you can't touch them!" I heard Lawrence call out. I looked in his direction. He was surrounded by six or seven admirers, as was Peter. They both looked rather pleased with themselves.

"How did you get them to jiggle so well?" someone was asking Lawrence, but I didn't hear his answer, as my attention was drawn back to Liz.

"Nice skirt too," she observed, looking down at my legs.

"It's not a skirt," I heard myself say. Liz looked confused, but I shook my head to indicate that it didn't matter, and found myself grinning up at her, and agreeing with my body that she should do something to me. She took my arm, and led me off a little way from the others, who were gathered in two clusters around my fellow cheerleaders.

Without a further word, she put a hand behind my neck to gently tilt my head upwards, and kissed me full on the lips. I didn't know if she had told her friends about her and I, so I was a little surprised at this public show of affection, but my mind was soon full of other things as her tongue teased mine, and her body pressed against me.

"You are one foxy chick!" she whispered to me, coming up for air. I gazed into her blue eyes, and simply grinned. I could smell the heat of her body from her own exertions on the pitch, and waited for her to entertain me again with her tongue.

"Hey put her down!" I heard Nancy's voice. Liz let her grip slip from me a little, and turning sideways, I saw the teacher standing beside us, with a friendly grin on her face. "You guys make a good couple," she offered.

"Thanks," Liz replied.

"Listen, we need to talk through some of the tactics for the game tomorrow," Nancy said to her captain. Reluctantly, I let my arms fall from Liz's broad shoulders, and ambled away a little, while Liz and Nancy fell into conversations about dead balls. Peter and Lawrence were still holding court with the rest of the team, lapping up the attention and compliments they were getting, and occasionally slapping away a hand that was getting too friendly from their hips or chests. I smiled at this, but was glad to be free of the harassment, and to have Liz to myself.

A movement caused me to look across towards the school. Standing there was a solitary figure in a black mock leather jacket and jeans, hunched over with its hands in its pockets. It was Janet, I had forgotten about her liaison with Peter. I waved, and walked across to her.

She barely looked up, and was obviously extremely embarrassed with the whole affair. "Hi," I said brightly. "Did you see us cheering?"

She shook her head. "No, I've only just got her." She looked dolefully across at Peter, and the group of appreciative girls around him. "I think I must be early. I'll come back later."

I put my hand on her arm to stop her. "No," I said, gently but firmly. "He said he'd talk to you. I'll go and get him for you."

She grimaced, and looked down at the grass beneath her feet, but almost imperceptibly nodded her agreement to my suggestion. Walking past Nancy and Liz unnoticed, I approached Peter, but was unable to get his attention, besieged as he was by the footballers.

I hesitated for a second, and then decided to call out. "Peter! Can I have a quick word?"

Seven faces turned towards me, and after a seconds pause, their eyes moved down to my chest, and then my legs, before moving upwards again to my face. Peter shoved himself between two of them, looking extremely happy, and they made way for him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Someone's here to see you," I informed him, nodding in the direction of the waiting Janet. Eight sets of eyes moved in that direction, and one or two of the girls sneered, and muttered to themselves, recognising who it was.

"Ah yes!" Peter said, fixing his gaze on poor Janet. "I need to talk to her don't I?"

I nodded in reply, hoping that, whether he agreed to date her or not, he would at least be gentle with her feelings. "I'll be back soon," he said, to his fan club, and then walked slowly and purposefully across the grass to his longer standing admirer.

Somewhat to my dismay, the group of girls transferred their attentions to me, and I was immediately surrounded by them, and barraged with questions and comments that came too quick for me to answer.

"That costume suits you."

"How have you made your boobs?"

"Your legs are fantastic"

"Are you going out with Liz then?"

"You won the Beauty Contest didn't you?"

"Do you like being a girl?"

"He makes a brilliant one anyway, whether he likes it or not."

"I think all boys should wear skirts."

"You wouldn't know he was a boy by looking at him would you?"

"I can sort of see why Liz likes him though."

"Yeah, it'd be good to have a pretty boyfriend wouldn't it?"

This went on for several minutes, with the girls swapping comments, but never allowing me to reply to any of them. It was pleasant enough being complimented in this way, but I found myself hoping that at any moment, Liz would have finished her tactical discussion, and come to rescue me.

I managed to glimpse Peter between the shoulders of two of the girls, and as subtly as I could, I extricated myself from the centre of the circle, to see what had happened. He was walking along slowly, smiling to himself, with Janet in tow, looking despondent. They seemed to be making their way towards Nancy and Liz, which baffled me. I looked at Janet, and managed to catch her eye, and tried to ask a silent question to see what Peter's reaction had been. She shook her head, and looked back down at the ground.

"Nancy," I heard Peter say. The teacher broke off her conversation with Liz to look at Peter.

"Yes Ronnie," she said.

"This is the new recruit for the cheerleading team," he went on brightly. "She's called Janet, but we can make up a prettier name for her if you want."

Nancy looked at the obviously embarrassed Janet, and I heard some savage giggling over by the boy's changing rooms. Looking over there, I saw Chrissie and Janet, leaning against the wall, and laughing. What was going on?

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Nancy said, looking at Janet. "She's a girl, a real one I mean. I don't think we want real girls on the cheerleading team."

"No we don't. Especially her!" one of the footballers shouted. The scene now had everyone's attention.

Peter wasn't finished yet. "Well at least she could try on one of the costumes couldn't she?" he asked, smiling again. "She's absolutely desperate to, aren't you Janet?"

Chrissie and Jacquie laughed again, as did some of the football team. "Well aren't you?" Peter asked again, bending down to catch Janet's eye, as she glared at the ground, and blushed furiously.

"Yes," she mumbled eventually, her voice hoarse from shame.

There was another echo of laughter. The idea of Janet wearing a cheerleader's costume was obviously considered hilarious.

Nancy looked at Peter, and then at Janet. "Well I'm not sure I've got one big enough," she began. "But I suppose if she's desperate, she can try one on."

"Oh thank you!" Peter said, ridiculously sweetly. "She's going to be so pleased, aren't you Janet?"

The poor girl simply grimaced at the floor some more. Nancy went to the teacher's room, and returned a few seconds later with a complete outfit in a rather larger size than any of the rest of us had worn.

"Just go in there and try it on then," Peter said, encouragingly, pushing the stumbling Janet towards the changing rooms. "And come on out just as soon as you've got it on, so we can all see how pretty you look in it."

There was another peal of laughter from the crowd, and dripping with shame, Janet took the costume, and closed the door of the changing room behind her. I was determined to find out what this was all about, and marched across to Peter. I got there just seconds before Chrissie and Jacquie, who immediately positioned themselves on either side of him. He stared at me defiantly, before I had even said anything.

"What's going on?" I demanded.

He shrugged. "Janet's trying on a cheerleader's costume," he stated. "What's wrong with that?"

I stared back at him. "But why is she doing that? I bet it was your idea!"

He shrugged again. "Maybe," he replied airily. "I just told her that I would only consider going out with her if she tried it on for me."

"Yeah," Chrissie said, underlining the point with a delighted sneer. Jacquie grinned menacingly as well.

I looked at both in turn, and then back to Peter. "Well that's not very nice is it!" I said, spitting my words. How could he be so cruel?

He looked a little shamefaced for a moment, and then shrugged again. "Well all's fair in love and war"

"Love!" I snapped. "I don't see what love's got to do with it."

"He's going to burst into song in a minute!" observed Jacquie sarcastically.

Chrissie stepped forward. "Well as it happens," she sneered, "Peter's in love with me, aren't you darling?"

He looked down at the ground in his turn, and nodded slightly.

"So I told him I'd be happy to go out with him, as long as he helped me out with this. I told you Sunday I'd get her back for getting in my way then, no you know what I meant."

My mind flashed back to the moment Janet had saved me from further molestation by the horrible Chrissie. This was going to be her reward, to be laughed at and ridiculed by those who used to be her friends.

"What's going on?" I heard a familiar voice by my side, and a hand on my shoulder. It was Liz. At least I wasn't going to be in any physical danger now.

"Oh you think she's your bit of skirt now is she?" Chrissie went on. "Very nice, if you don't mind sharing her with half the rest of the school."

"What do you mean?" Liz demanded, moving slightly forward in a menacing way.

Chrissie opened her mouth in mock horror. "Hasn't she told you?" she said. "Oh dear, well, perhaps I shouldn't say."

"Shut up Chrissie," I interjected.

"Oh don't you want her to know?" she said, with theatrical concern. "I'm so sorry Sarah, we wouldn't want your big strong girlfriend to know what a slag you are would we!"

Liz stepped further forward. "No one calls my Sarah a slag," she said, grabbing Chrissie by the collar.

The smaller girl looked a little worried by this, and Jacquie attempted to help her, only to be stopped by two of the other footballers.

"Oh yeah?" demanded Chrissie, recovering her bravado. "And what else would you call someone who slept with one girl on Friday night, another on Saturday, and then called me up for a date on the Sunday?"

I could see the fury in Liz's face, as she stood there, glaring into Chrissie's upturned eyes.

"Hey hey you guys!" said Nancy, rushing over, and trying to take responsibility. "What's going on here?"

"Just a little disagreement about boys," one of the girls explained. Slowly, and reluctantly, Liz let go of Chrissie, and let her fall back to the ground. She turned to me with a wicked smile on her face.

"I think you're going to have some explaining to do now, don't you pretty one?"

I glared back at her. "Maybe, but I'm going to stop part of this charade right now."

I turned from them, and stomped off to the changing rooms, and flew the door open. Inside, huddled in the corner, was Janet, wearing one of the shells, and a skirt like mine. She looked close to tears.

"I can't do it!" she exclaimed. "I can't go out there dressed like this!"

"You don't have to," I said soothingly, sitting down next to her.

She shook her head. "I do," she wailed. "Otherwise Peter won't go out with me."

I hesitated, trying to think of the best way to break my news. "I don't think he will even if you do," I said.

She turned her face towards me, her eyes wet and bright. "He said he would."

I slowly shook my head. "I think Chrissie put him up to it, to get you back for what happened on Sunday."

She stared at me for some time. "So he's not going to go out with me whatever I do?"

I bit my lip, knowing that anything I said was likely to be bad news. "I don't think so. I'm sorry Janet."

She looked directly ahead of her to digest this. "Well I'd better get changed back, before anyone sees me." She stood up, and took of the shell top, revealing a greyish white blouse. "I felt stupid in it anyway," she went on, taking off the tiny skirt as well.

"I am sorry Janet," I said again.

She shrugged. "It's all right," she said, "It's not your fault. Nobody ever wants to go out with me."

I didn't know how to reply, and just sat there, as she put her jeans and T-shirt back on. Poor Janet, she wasn't having much luck in her life just then.

"You could go out with me," she suddenly said, brightening up a little, and running her fingers through her hair. I didn't know what to say. I was going out with Liz, or at least, until a few moments ago I had been. Now that Chrissie had spilled the beans about my weekend to her, that was probably all over.

"What do you say?" Janet went on, tying up the laces on her boots.

I looked down at the floor. "I don't think so," I mumbled. "I think we'd be better off just staying as friends don't you?"

Janet looked a little crestfallen again. "If you say so," she muttered. "Well, I might as well be off."

She stood up, and walked out of the room, to a series of boos from the gathered crowd, deprived as they were, of seeing Janet dressed as a cheerleader.

"Well that's it," I heard Peter shout, as I got to the door. "I'm not going out with you now, you big fat gorilla! Not if you're too scared to wear a skirt!"

I walked across towards him, still flanked as he was by Chrissie and Jacquie.

"You," I told him, "are a disgrace!" and without thinking, I lifted my hand, and slapped him around the cheek, before turning, and walking back towards the changing room.

"Slow down!" I heard Liz from behind me, "We need to talk!"

I closed my eyes. The day was turning bad very quickly, and I could feel myself trembling. I managed to fumble the door to the changing room open quickly, and stepped inside with Liz following me. As soon as I was there I burst into tears. Anita hated me; now Liz was going to finish with me for what had happened at the weekend, and I had also ruined the cheerleading stuff with my showdown with Peter. I was entirely distraught.

Liz put her hands on my shoulders, and eased my shaking head forward onto her chest as I continued to sob, feeling entirely wretched. She didn't say anything, but stroked my hair, and patted my head, as I clung to her like a drowning person to a rock.

There was a voice outside the door, Nancy's. "Liz," she shouted. "You can't stay in there. The young ladies will want to get changed in a minute."

"Just give us a few moments." Liz shouted back, without letting go of me. I felt grateful, if selfish, that she was supporting me at that moment.

"Are you all right there Sarah?" she whispered gently.

My sobbing was beginning to subside a little. "I'm so sorry Liz," I managed to splutter.

"Sorry? What for?"

"For everything!" I blurted, starting to cry again.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for," Liz told me gently. "It's all right."

"But," I stuttered, "about what Chrissie said."

"Oh I don't pay any attention to her," Liz went on soothingly. "She's a right old cow. I know where you were sleeping on Friday night anyway. You told me you were staying with your friend Sue, and Andrea was there to keep an eye on you!"

Friday night wasn't my problem at that moment, Saturday night was; that and Sunday afternoon.

"And you told me you were off for a girls' night out on Saturday. I suppose you had a sleep over with one of them afterwards."

I nodded in reply, without daring to look up at her.

"Well that's all right," she went on. "I won't say I'm not jealous, because I am."

I looked up at her, but there was no real anger in her eyes. She looked a bit embarrassed herself for a moment. "It's difficult, I know it is," she began. "I mean, it's like you're the girl and I'm the boy, I know that."

Standing there in my skimpy little cheerleader's costume, while she was in her football gear, I could hardly disagree with her.

"And I suppose being a girl, you're bound to have girls as friends."

I looked at her again; what was she trying to say?

"I mean it's easy when you stick to the usual way of doing things; boys and girls, and stuff like that. If you were like other boys, you'd have boys as friends, and I wouldn't have to get jealous. But you're not. Like I said, it's like you're the girl, and I'm the boy. I suppose it means I don't know who to be jealous of with you."

I smiled weakly at her.

"But I like you the way you are Sarah," she went on. "I like you a lot."

"I like you too," I said, looking up at her, and smiling weakly.

"I'll just have to put up with you having other girls as friends I suppose. It's not easy for me, but I'll do my best."

I smiled again. "Yes," I whispered, and stood on tiptoe to kiss her on her lips.

She pulled away, and faced the wall. "The only thing I don't understand is why Chrissie said you asked her for a date. That seems odd to me."

I bit my lip and sighed. "It wasn't like that Liz," I said, wondering how much to tell her about Anita and me. "I was staying over at Anita's, you know, the girl who entered me in the contest."

"I know Anita," she replied flatly.

"Well," I went on, "we had a bit of a row on the Saturday. Anita had fixed to go out with her boyfriend, and it left me in the lurch a bit, you know."

She turned to look at me and shook her head. "So you decided to ask Chrissie out for a date instead?"

"No!" I protested. "I was still," I hesitated. "Dressed like this; well, not exactly like this, but as a girl anyway."

She looked at me, and considered this for a few moments. "Well, I'm not surprised about that."

"Anita's Mum and Dad think I'm a girl," I went on. "A real one that is. They wouldn't let me sleep over if they thought I was a boy, even if I was dressed up."

She looked at me again, without any understanding showing on her face.

"The thing is," I went on. "I needed somewhere to change back into some boy stuff before going home. So I rang up Chrissie, and asked her to help."

"Why didn't you ring me?" Liz demanded. "I could have helped."

"You were playing football!" I exclaimed.

Her face betrayed her realisation that this was true. "Oh yes. So I was," she admitted.

"And since Anita and I had had a row, I thought I'd get my own back on her by getting Chrissie to help me."

Liz looked at me long and hard. "That wasn't very nice," she said quietly. "That's no way to treat a friend is it?"

I felt ashamed of myself, and looking down at the floor, shook my head. "No," I said. "It was stupid."

There was silence between us for a moment, and then Liz broke into a gently laugh. "I don't know Sarah, you get yourself into all sorts of pickles don't you?"

I looked up at her, and she moved back towards me, and took me in her arms.

"Good thing you're so beautiful," she told me, teasingly, and then kissed me. I felt a surge of relief at her forgiveness, and let her snog me for some time.

"Liz!" Nancy's voice came from the door. "Leave poor Sarah alone, and come out of there at once."

Liz separated from me, and smiled down at my upturned face. "I'll see you tonight then," she said. "I'm looking forward to this meal you're cooking for me."

My mouth fell open; "How did you know I was cooking?" I gasped.

She smiled knowingly, and touched my cheek gently. "I didn't," she said. "I was just hoping."

I watched as she walked away from me, and out of the changing room door. I sat myself down on one of the benches, not having the strength at that moment to get changed. Liz had forgiven me, although she did not know the full extent of my infidelity, and I was relieved. I hugged myself for comfort, remembering her strong arms around me, and determined to make her a meal she would remember. It wasn't going to be easy; I was hardly an accomplished cook. In fact she would be lucky if I didn't give her food poisoning for her big match, but resolved to do my best. She deserved it.

The door opened again, and I looked up. Lawrence was looking around the door furtively. "Is it okay if we come in?" he asked, plaintively. I nodded, and he entered, leading a ruffled looking Peter with him. Our eyes met, and I could see the sadness in his eyes, clouded with tears.

"I'm sorry Sarah!" he gasped.

I felt renewed tears coming into my eyes as well. "I'm sorry too!" I blurted, and rushed to the door to hug both him and Lawrence. We stayed in a sobbing huddle for some time, before Peter broke away.

"I was so stupid!" he blurted out. "I really thought Chrissie would go out with me if I helped her get her own back on Janet."

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter. We all make mistakes."

He smiled wanly at me. "Some of us make bigger ones than others."

I giggled. "Well I've made some in my time as well. Are we still friends?"

He looked at me, and smiled before nodding. "Yes. Us girls have got to stick together haven't we?"

"We sure have!" Lawrence answered for me, and we had another group hug.

"Honestly look at us!" Lawrence said, when we had separated again. "We look a right state!"

Wondering what he meant, I looked across to one of the mirrors. He was right. I had mascara stains all down my cheeks, and my eyes were red from crying. Peter was the same, and Lawrence hardly any better.

"We'd best get ourselves cleaned up and changed," I suggested, and the others agreed. Lawrence changed back into his sweater and short skirt, and I felt a pang of jealously watching him. At least I was wearing a pretty pair of knickers under my trousers, I reasoned. Then I shook myself; I wasn't wearing skirts any more was I? Internally I gave myself a good telling off for wanting to show my legs off, and went over to the mirror to make sure all my make up had come off.

There was another knock on the door. Checking that the other two were decent, I went over to it and opened it. Andrea was standing there, still in her football kit.

"Hi," she said. "Sue just asked me to remind you that you're off with her to Sylvia's Boutique this afternoon."

"Oh right," I replied. "Yes, I remember. Where is she?"

"She said she'd meet you in the canteen," Andrea told me.

I thanked her, and shut the door again. It was hardly turning out to be a dull day.

  

  

  

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