Contest And Consequence

by Sarah Bayen

Part Fourteen

 

I rushed into the open air with tears in my eyes. I was hardly breathing, and certainly had no plan of what I was going to do. I ran a few paces from the changing rooms, and bumped into someone.

"Hey, what's the matter?" I heard someone say. Then there was a cackling voice from behind me, from the changing room door.

"Come back here!" it shouted. "It's my turn next!"

I shuddered, and collapsed into the arms of the person who had stopped me. I felt a pair of arms go around me, as my head fell onto a shoulder, and lost itself in its well of sorrow.

"What is it Sarah?" a voice asked. Gathering myself as best as I could, I lifted my head to see who my saviour had been. It was Nancy. My mouth opened, but there were no words I could say. I simply shook my head.

"Have they been teasing you?" she asked menacingly. "I'll have a few words to say to them if they have."

"No," I managed to whisper hoarsely. She looked at me, holding my head.

"Come on, I'd best get you somewhere quieter," she told me, and leading me gently, took me to the staff changing cubicle. We walked through, and she sat me down on one of the benches in there, and crouched down in front of me. "They won't think to look for you in here," she said, gently, and looked up into my miserable and tear stained face. "Now what's been going on?" she asked.

"Nothing. They just got a bit boisterous," I replied. This wasn't really a problem for the teachers to sort out.

Her face echoed the disbelief she must be feeling. After a while she shook her head, and stood up. "Well what do you want to do?" she asked. "The others are still celebrating. Do you want to wait in here for a while?"

"I think I'd like to go home," I said, rather pathetically.

"Well I suppose your stuff's all in the changing rooms isn't it?" Nancy went on. I nodded miserably. "Well, I'll see if I can find Lucy and get him to go and get it for you. You can get changed here if you want."

"Thanks," I replied. With a moment's hesitation to see if I was really all right, she turned and left, and I was alone, sitting there in my cheerleader costume, hanging my head in shame and sorrow. How could Liz have done that to me? I really thought she loved me, and yet she had simply wanted to use me to show off to her friends. I should have guessed when I had overheard her telling her teammates how she had made love to me when she hadn't. I had been prepared to forgive her for that; I knew that there was a lot of peer pressure on people in football teams to say how often they had sex; but this last thing, making me think she just wanted a little fun, and then getting all her mates to watch, that was just too much.

More tears ran down my cheeks, and I just sat there, heedless of the mess they must be making of my make up. All I could see through the mist of the tears was my thighs pressed closely together reaching out from the ridiculously short cheering skirt I was wearing. To think I had convinced myself that it wasn't really a skirt as well. That was where all my troubles came from; from wearing girl's clothes. Well enough was enough. It was all very well resolving not to wear skirts any more. I had done that, albeit not very successfully, but I had still kept getting into trouble. What I had to do was resolve never to wear girl's clothes again. It had been a roller coaster ride for the past couple of weeks, since the moment Anita and Nikki had first dressed me up. I couldn't deny that there had been some wonderful moments, some of the best of my life. But they had come at a terrible price. I had lost my virginity to the girl I had loved for so long, but now she wasn't even talking to me. I thought I had found another girl who really loved me as much as I loved her, but she had betrayed me in the most humiliating way imaginable. All that because I had allowed myself to be dressed as a girl. Well it had to stop, and stop it would!

The door opened, and Lawrence looked nervously around it. "Are you all right Sarah?" he asked.

"It's Steve!" I snapped savagely, and then burst into tears again.

"Oh God!" he exclaimed, coming across to me, and carrying what I recognised as my bag. "What happened?" he asked, sitting next to me, and putting his thin arm around my shoulders. "Did you and Liz have an argument or something? She's going frantic out there looking for you?"

"You didn't tell her where I was?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"Did she try and go too far or something?" he asked me.

I shook my head, and renewed my sobbing.

"Poor Sarah," he cooed.
"Steve," I managed to croak. After a few moments, I managed to gather myself together enough to speak. "I'm going home!" I announced.

"But there's going to be a bit of a party," Lawrence stammered.

"I don't care," I announced, almost ripping the shell top off, and taking my wig with it. "I'm going home, and I'm never going to be Sarah again!"

Lawrence sat there in silence as I took off the skirt, and put on my crumpled blue jeans. Walking over to a mirror, I savagely took the water from the sink, and scrubbed at the make up on my face, before returning. I struggled with the hooks on the bra, but in my fury, I couldn't get them undone.

"I'll help," Lawrence offered, standing, and undoing the hooks for me.

"Thanks," I managed to say, tearing the bra off me, and letting the socks that had served as my boobs fall to the floor. I kicked off the pink trainers Nancy had lent me, and put my own dull white ones back on, before putting on my T-shirt.

"I'm going to miss Sarah," Lawrence said, rather gloomily.

"She's nothing but trouble," I muttered. I wondered for a moment what to do with the cheerleader uniform. I picked it up, and folded it. "Tell Nancy she can have this back," I said, with dramatic finality. "I'm sorry, but I can't abide to take it back home to wash."

"I'll get it washed," Lawrence said gently, picking the uniform up, and folding it rather more neatly. I looked at him. He seemed so at home in his girl form, so much happier and complete rather weedy boy I had known before.

"Can you do something for me?" I asked. He nodded eagerly. "Can you just look outside, and make sure the coast is clear for me to get away?"

He looked worried for a moment, and then nodded. He went to the doorway, and looked outside for a few moments, turning his head this way and that, and then came back.

"I think you're all right. There's quite a few people around, but if you sneak around the back, I don't think you'll be noticed."

I nodded in reply. "Thanks," I said, and then with an impulse I didn't fully understand, I hugged him. "Have fun at the party Lucy, and be careful."

"I will," he gasped. I let him go. I must have hugged him rather more firmly than I should have.

I peered around the door, to confirm his diagnosis of the situation, and then slipped between the teachers' changing cubicle, and the boys' block. I should be able to get back into the main school building, and from there to the station without Liz or any of the football team seeing me.

Swifly, I slipped around the corner, and stopped briefly to compose myself. Then, with a purpose, I strode towards the main school building, half expecting someone to come up behind me, and demand the same service I had provided for Liz. It didn't happen, however, and I made the relative safety of the school, and walked through firmly and carefully to the main gate, and from there to the station.

I was pleased to notice that there was no one else from school on the platform. The last thing I wanted at that time was company. What I wanted was space to think, and time to rid myself of the spirit of Sarah that had somehow possessed me.

The train came, and I climbed aboard. I found myself a cubicle, without really noticing the other passengers, and, placing my bag in the luggage rack above my head, sat down firmly, and closed my eyes. Somehow, I knew, I would have to face the ridicule at school; the sideways looks of the girls on the football team, and the throw away comments about my promiscuity. Then, at some stage, I would have to face Liz herself. What would I say to her?

"Hello," I heard someone say. I looked up, and across the compartment. It was the woman from the day before, together with her three children. "It's Sarah isn't it?" she asked.

My mouth dried instantly. How was I supposed to cope with this in the context of ridding myself of my alter ego? I thought about braving it out, and telling her that I was really a boy called Steve. What would she make of that, having seen me the day before happy enough to be called Sarah and thought of as a girl? I took the coward's way out.

"Oh hi!" I said, as brightly as I could manage. "I didn't see you there. I'm sorry, I was thinking."

"I could see that," she said kindly. "You looked lost in thought."

I smiled in response. The elder girl looked at me intently, while sucking on a lollipop. My eyes were drawn to little Amy, however, snuggled and asleep in her mother's arms.

"Amy looks tired today," I offered.

"Yes," the mother replied. "She was up half the night. I'm not surprised."

"She's not ill is she?" I asked, with genuine concern.

The mother smiled. "No, not ill, just hungry."

"Your make up's gone a bit funny," the older girl said to me, between sucks.

"Hilary!" her mother scolded. "I'm sorry Sarah."

"It's all right," I replied, and reminded myself that I probably hadn't done a particularly good job of taking it off in my haste. No wonder they still thought I was a girl.

"Are you sure you're all right?" the woman asked me. "You look as if you might have been crying."

I looked out of the window to avoid her gaze. "Yes, I'm fine," I replied.

There was a pause. "Boy trouble?" the woman suggested.

I turned back to face her. "Something like that," I responded, smiling again.

She shook her head knowingly. "They can be such pains, men that is," she went on conspiratorially. "I've had my share of boy trouble myself."

"I'm sorry to hear that." I replied, anxious to divert the conversation away from me and my troubles.

"Oh it comes with the territory," she went on. "Be a girl, have boy trouble. That's the way it is."

"Yes," I agreed. "Oops, this is my stop!" I got up, and pulled my bag down off the rack.

"Oh, you got off at the same stop as us yesterday," she observed.

I hesitated before replying. "Yes. I'm on my way to visit someone."

"The boy in question?" she asked.

"Possibly," I replied, and she smiled at me.

"Give him what for, if he's causing you pain!" she urged.

"I will," I agreed, and stepped down from the now stationary train. I stood there for a moment cursing my cowardice. Surely I should have found some way to admit to the woman on the train that I was really a boy called Steve, not a girl called Sue had told her the day before? What did that say about my ability to carry out my resolve to remove Sarah from my life?

Another difficulty needed sorting out. I obviously still needed to remove the last vestiges of my make up. Even the little girl had noticed that I was wearing it, and it was probably made all the more apparent by the fact that I had allowed it to drip all over my face when I had been crying. Luckily I still had my make up bag with me, together with the handy little removal wipes that Anita had given me. Excellent, all I needed to do was to go into the toilets, and finish off the job I had started.

I walked along the platform towards the Gents, and, as I reached the door stopped myself headlong. What was I thinking of? I could hardly go in there, and start removing my make up in front of a mirror. What would I do if someone came in? I glanced six feet to my right, to the entrance to the Ladies toilet. Damn, if I went in there, it was hardly an auspicious way to get rid of Sarah. Still, one step backwards to take two steps forward, I reasoned to myself. I wondered briefly if I still looked enough of a girl to get away with it; the woman on the train seemed to find no difficulty in seeing me as one, so, walking proudly, and without any obvious hesitation, I walked in, and quickly went over to the mirror. The girl had been right; I looked a complete mess, with streaks of mascara running down from the corners of my eyes, and some lipstick smeared across my cheeks. I opened my bag, and quickly found the wipes and set to work. I carefully scrutinised my face once I had finished to make sure that there was no trace of make up left. Apart from a couple of little blobs of eye shadow locked into my tear ducts, I was now clean.

Without thinking much, I took out a hairbrush, and attended to my hair, which had obviously suffered a little from being stuck under a wig while I had leapt about and cheered. It needed washing, but I did what I could with it. I could always have a shower when I got home.

It suddenly occurred to me that I needed to wee. The toilets were empty, but it did occur to me that this was the ladies, and I was ridding myself of Sarah. I really shouldn't go in here. But the alternative was to walk out of the ladies, and quickly into the gents, which was a high-risk operation to say the least. Swallowing my misgivings, I slipped into one of the cubicles. When in Rome, do as the Romans do, do as the Romans do, so they say. Something like that went through my mind, as I considered whether to sit on the seat, or stand like a man. In the end, and with a certain amount of pride in being able to assert my masculinity in this female haven, I did the latter, and then flushed the chain, proudly walking through to the outer area. To my chagrin, two women had walked in while I had been busying myself. They looked at me as I emerged, and then went on with applying their make up. They obviously were convinced enough by my appearance, even out of Sarah's stuff, to think that I was still a girl.

Relieved, I left the station, and walked home. My thoughts all the way turned to my betrayal by Liz. Why hadn't I seen it coming? I had been head over heels in love with her, and utterly blinded by what I thought of as her love for me. I could see now that it hadn't been love; not from her at any rate. Her feelings for me were pure lust; nothing more and nothing less. I was just a sex object for her; a boy who didn't mind dressing up as a girl to satisfy her desires. She had used me to prove to her friends how easily she could persuade a boy to do what she wanted, when she wanted, and in the way she wanted. Well that was all over now. I was Steve, and Steve was here to stay.

I found myself on my own doorstep as these thoughts rushing through my head as I fumbled for my keys and let myself in.

"Is that you Steve?" I heard my mother's voice call as I walked into the hall. She emerged into view, and looked at me. "Well, you almost look like a boy today," she said, with a joking lilt to her voice. It was too much for me in my fragile state however, and I immediately collapsed into tears again. Obviously bewildered, my Mum still managed to step forward and hold me, as my body convulsed with new my feeling sorry for myself obsession.

She sensibly held off the questions for a few minutes until I had calmed down a little.

"What is it?" she asked eventually. "Have you had a fight or something?"

I shook my head.

"Well Liz has rung three times in the last hour. Have you had an argument with her or something?"

I nodded glumly. My Mum shook her head. "I don't know. You've got yourself in a right state about it as well." She held me again, and I felt as comforted as I had when I was a little child. Still I couldn't manage to say anything however.

"She hasn't," my Mum began, and then stopped herself. "No, I don't suppose she could really," she told herself. "But if she's hurt you in any way, I'll give her what for!"

I smiled wanly. "It's all right," I managed to gasp, pulling myself away from her embrace a little. "She didn't hurt me. Not physically anyway. But she was, well, showing off to her friends at my expense."

I started crying again, and my Mum held my head as I did so. "Well you get that with," she hesitated again. "with people like Liz. She's older than you too."

I wasn't sure what that had to do with it, but I didn't bother to respond or question my mother's wisdom.

"You really are very pretty," she went on. "I'm not surprised Liz was showing you off to her friends. She's probably very pleased to have got such a pretty boyfriend."

I shook my head. "It wasn't like that. It wasn't," I hesitated, and bit my lip. "It wasn't very nice."

"Poor you," my Mum went on, and led me into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. "Girls can be so cruel you know, just as cruel as boys." I nodded glumly in agreement. "And they don't always realise how sensitive boys can be."

"I know," I replied.

"Especially when they're in a group."

The phone rang. "That'll be Liz again," my Mum told me. "She said she was going to ring back. What do you want me to tell her?"

"Tell her I'm not back yet." I said.

Mum looked at me, and nodded slowly. "You're going to have to talk to her sooner or later. She probably doesn't realise how much she's upset you."

"Oh I think she does!" I said bitterly.

My Mum shrugged, and went to answer the still ringing phone. I heard her say 'no, not yet', or word to that effect, and then she came back into the kitchen.

"She sounds almost as sorry for herself as you do!" she announced. "She's a good girl really. A bit tomboyish I suppose, but there's no harm in that. Especially with you."

I was a little bit peeved. Who's side was she on? I felt my lip quivering again.

"Oh dear!" she exclaimed. "I didn't mean to upset you!"

There was an awkward silence for a moment, as I struggled to hold off a new flood of tears.

"Listen," she said, going over to her handbag. "I'm not sure this is the right time for this, but I suppose now's as good as any." She pulled something out of it. "I was saving this for your daughter, assuming you got married one day. My grandma gave it to me when I was about your age, and I suppose if you'd have been a girl, I'd have given it to you by now."

I was baffled as to what she meant.

"I've been thinking about it over the last few days. My grandma told me she'd got it from her mother, and that I should make sure it stayed in the family. It's a bit of an heirloom I suppose."

"What is it?" I asked.

She opened an old brown paper bag, and pulled out an ancient looking box. It had been ornate once, but most of the decoration had faded away, and now it was simply a dull dark blue. She opened it carefully, and I heard the hinges creak. She looked inside the box, although I could not see from where I was.

"I wasn't sure if you should have it," she said, more to herself than me. "But I reckon in this day and age it doesn't matter so much whether you're a girl or not."

"What is it?" I repeated.

"It's called a maiden bracelet," she told me, slowly pulling an delicate filigree band from the box. I watched entranced as it bent from its original circular shape under its own weight in her hand. "It's supposed to look after you from when you have your first period to when you become a mother. That's what grandma told me anyway."

"It's lovely," I gasped, looking at the object. It had gold links, a little dirty perhaps, but still gold, interlinked with red roses, presumably made of some other metal, and white moons, some full, some crescent.

"Yes," she said, looking at the bracelet, and lost in memories of her own girlhood. She turned it over and over in her hands and said. "It served me well, I can certainly say that. Grandma told me that whenever you wear it, all the people who have ever worn it before, alive or dead, are sort of there to help you out."

I moved closer to look at the bracelet, as it turned around and around in her hands. As it glistened in the light from the kitchen window, I could almost believe that it had the magic properties she was ascribing to it.

"Here," she said, undoing its hidden clasp, and holding it out towards me. "Try it on."

I hesitated for a moment. A maiden bracelet, was it really appropriate for me to put on such a thing, especially now I was purging Sarah from my life? But like my mother had said, perhaps being a girl or a boy wasn't so important now as it was in the olden days. Slowly I extended my right hand.

"Not that one, it goes on the left."

I held out my other arm, and my Mum placed the bracelet around my wrist, and fastened the clasp. I held my arm stiffly in front of me, and looked in awe at it. It felt a little heavy, but not uncomfortable. I turned my wrist around, and felt it slide across me, feeling the slight coldness of the metal against my skin.

"It suits you," my Mum commented wistfully. "I was right to let you have it. I'm sure of that now."

"Thanks Mum," I whispered, still gazing at the bracelet. She stood up and hugged me, and I felt a fresh flood of tears coming to my eyes. The phone rang again.

"That bloody girl won't take no for an answer!" my Mum said, as she let me go. Looking at her, I could see that there were tears in her eyes as well. "Do you want me to tell her you're still not back?"

I nodded, unable to speak, and she went out into the hall to answer the ringing. I stared at my arm, holding it this way and that, and looking at how the bracelet sat as I did so. The roses and moons tinkled and glittered as I moved, and I was entranced by it.

"It's not Liz," my Mum's voice said, rousing me from my thoughts. "It's Sue. Do you want to speak to her?"

I looked at her, thought for a moment and nodded, walking through to the hall.

"Hi Sue," I said into the receiver.

"Hi Sarah," her voice greeted me, slightly crackling.

"Steve," I said, by way of correction.

"Yes, sorry," she went on. "Listen, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I replied, as brightly as I could.

"Only Andrea said there was a bit of a kafuffle at the soccer match or something. Your Liz apparently went ape-shit about something."

"Oh really," I said as non-committal as I could.

"Yeah," Sue went on. "She slogged a couple of the girls on the team. Apparently it took Nancy Underwood and the others half an hour or so to calm her down."

"Really," I responded. "I don't know anything about it. I left quite early. Perhaps she was drunk."

"No," Sue said, with disbelief in her voice. "Andrea didn't say anything about them drinking."

"Oh well I don't know what it was all about," I said, as casually as I could.

There was a silence for a moment, as Sue obviously considered whether to press me further.

"Well whatever," she said eventually. "What I actually rang about, was to find out if you'd asked your Mum and Dad about working at the shop during the summer yet."

"Not yet," I said, my heart beginning to race. This was hardly the best timing from Sue. I was still distraught about what Liz had done to me, and I wasn't in the mood to tell her that I was putting Sarah behind me for good just then.

"Well when are you going to?" she went on. "Tonight?"

"Maybe," I replied evasively. "My Dad's not back yet. I'll have to wait until after dinner."

I looked at the bracelet on my arm, and turned it round and around again.

"Only we owe David an answer," Sue went on. "He'll have to shut the shop up if we don't agree. And I'll have to find some other job."

"I know," I blurted out. "But it's a big thing for me you know. Having to be," I hesitated. "Someone I'm not all summer."

"What do you mean someone you're not?"

"You know what I mean." I replied.

"But you're as much Sarah as you are Steve!" Sue insisted. "She's just another side of you, and if you ask me, a better one!"

I was still staring at my new bracelet. "Well whatever," I said eventually. "I'll think about it, and let you know."

"Well it'll have to be quick!" she insisted.

"It will be. I'll let you know tomorrow." I told her.

"All right," she conceded, and after our goodbyes, we hung up.

I went up to my bedroom, and switched on my computer to play a few games. Somehow it felt important to do something boyish to take my mind off Sarah, and the problems she had caused me. I couldn't concentrate, however, the bracelet caught my eye every time my hands went near the keyboard, and the thought of Liz rampaging around the changing rooms after I had left the football match flashed through my mind.

I wasn't really in the mood for dinner, but my Mum insisted I ate something, so I had a sandwich in my room, sitting idly by the computer. It was ham, and I felt pleased for a moment that, now Sarah was leaving me, I wouldn't have to bother so much about my waistline and my bum.

Then I heard the doorbell ring. I wondered for a second whether Mum and Dad were still eating, and would expect me to answer it. I heard my Mum's voice in the hall, however, and relaxed. A couple of minutes later, she knocked at my door, and came in.

"That was Liz," she told me, and my heart leapt into my mouth. "It's all right, I sent her away," she went on. "She looked really sorry for herself."

"So she should!" I said bitterly.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

I looked at her sheepishly. "We had an argument."

"I gathered that, but what was it all about?"

"This and that," I replied evasively.

"Well I'm not sure I can keep putting her off if you don't let me know what she has done to upset her. If your Dad answers the door next time, he'll probably let her in. You know what he's like."

I stared back at her. There was no way I was going to tell her that I had given Liz a blowjob, and had been caught in the act by the rest of the football team.

"She just wanted to go a bit further than I did," I said.

"You mean sex?"

I nodded. This was hardly true, but it would do to keep her quiet.

"And then she told all her friends that we had had sex, that's what got me upset."
She looked at me and appraised the situation before responding. "Well, this sort of thing happens," she said. "It's exactly the sort of thing the bracelet's for."

I looked down at my wrist, and stared at the red, white and gold around my wrist.

"It's supposed to give you the guidance of all the women who have gone through this sort of thing before you," she explained. "Maybe you should give it a chance."

"I will," I replied, smiling.

She continued to look at me for a moment, and then went away again downstairs. I decided to give up on the computer, and lay on my bed, reading a book for a time. It occurred to me that I really should have a shower or something. My hair was like straw from being stuffed under a wig while I was cheering, but I wasn't quite in the mood for it just then.

As I read, my eyes were constantly drawn to the roses and moons on my bracelet. I turned it around with my other hand to get a different perspective on it, and stroked the little white moons, the crescents and the circles, thinking about the women who had worn it before me as I did so.

Then the phone rang again. Mum was right; Liz was being very persistent; persistent to the point of harassment. I heard my Mum's footfalls on the stairs, and from halfway up she shouted at me.

"Steve! It's Anita for you!"

I was shocked. Anita! What would possess her to ring me up, after the constant disagreements we had had all week? I half thought for a moment that I should suggest to my Mum that she told her no, but I decided that I should face up to some of the damage Sarah had caused in my life, and try and sort it out, especially as now she was on the way out.

I walked downstairs and picked up the receiver.

"Hi Anita," I said, as brightly as I could, although I was bracing myself for a difficult conversation.

"Steve," she responded. At least she wasn't calling me Sarah any more. "I needed to talk to you straight away," she went on, a little breathlessly.

"Sure, what's up?" I asked.

"I saw John tonight," she announced. I felt my guard going up. That was hardly news, nor surprising. Anita may have stolen my virginity from me on Saturday, but she had made it clear that it was just a passing whim on her part, not the true love that I felt I deserved.

"Oh I see," I muttered. "That was nice."

"Not really," her voice came through. "It was really difficult."

There was a pause for a moment. I felt that she was waiting for me to say something, but I decided not too, still peeved that she felt it necessary to ring me up simply to tell me she had seen the horrible John.

"I told him that I was finishing with him," she said. "I told him it just wasn't working any more, that I didn't love him."

I listened in silence. This was a turn up for the books. It was news I had waited years to hear, and yet now, today of all days, it just added to my confusion.

"How did he take it?" I managed to make myself say.

"Badly," she told me. "I thought he might try and kill himself or something. He told me that he wanted to marry me and stuff like that."

"Marry you?"

"Yeah," she went on. "He said he was saving up for an engagement ring, that he was going to give it to me for my birthday."

"Oh," I said, still numb from the news.

"Anyway none of that matters now," she went on. "We're finished, me and John that is. I've decided to go out with you now."

My mouth fell open. She had decided to go out with me!

"Are you still there?" she asked.

I gathered my thoughts as best I could. "Yes," I managed to splutter.

"Well aren't you pleased?" she asked.

"I don't know," I replied, trying to gather my racing thoughts into some sort of opinion on the subject.

"Well I would have thought you'd have been delighted," she went on. "You've fancied me for ages haven't you?"

Again my thoughts would not coalesce into any sort of sensible reply.

"Well I know you have, even if you won't admit it," she went on. "Anyway, we can go out together now, officially, without worrying about John. You'll still have to be Sarah when you come over to stay and things like that, but that's all right isn't it? You don't mind being Sarah do you? In fact, I think you like it."

"I'm not sure," I managed to say.

There was a pause at the other end of the phone. "Not sure about what?"

"Not sure about us going out," I said. There was a sort of crash somewhere in my head. What was I saying? Anita was on the phone asking me to go out with her, and I was standing there, telling her that I wasn't sure about it.

"What?" she said, with disbelief in her voice.

"I need to think about it," I blurted out. "It's a bit of a shock."

"I suppose it must be," she conceded. "But you'll say yes won't you?"

I hesitated. "I'm not sure Anita. It's difficult."

"Difficult? Why? Or do you mean having to be Sarah when you're at my house?"

"Well that's part of it," I admitted.

"But now we've told my Mum and Dad you're a girl called Sarah, and they've let you sleepover with me, we can hardly turn around and tell them you're really a boy can we?"

"I suppose not. I'll think about it."

There was another silence. "Well I'm surprised at how you've reacted," she said at last. "I really thought you'd be delighted. Just think about it, we can do what we did last Saturday more or less whenever you want."

The bracelet felt heavy on my wrist, and I shook it to relieve the pressure. "Well like I say, I'll have to think about it Anita. I'll let you know tomorrow."

"You'd better," she said. "I've really upset John you know, for your sake. The least you could do is agree to what I've worked out for us."

"Maybe," I said, vaguely.

The conversation had reached an impasse. There was no way I was going to agree to go out with her over the phone, until I'll sorted out in my own mind what I was going to do about Liz. The Sarah bit bothered me as well. Going out with Anita had been my life's go up until a fortnight ago. It was the very reason I had agreed to enter the contest in the first place. The reason I had started dressing up as a girl. Now, after all that had happened over the last couple of weeks, it no longer seemed such an attractive option. Liz made me feel different than Anita did, I had to concede that; different and better. There was no way I was going out with Liz again, not after what she had put me through, but that didn't mean I had to go out with Anita, just to compensate. This really did need thinking through again. I looked at the bracelet, and silently asked it what I should do. Of course, it did not reply. I shuffled it around a little, and looked at the tumbling roses and moons, but still no revelation came into my mind. I shrugged to myself, and went back upstairs to my room, and picked up my book again.

Half an hour or so passed, and still no revelation. Then the doorbell rang again. I heard my Mum shout to me that she was going to get it. I smiled to myself. She would protect me from Liz. A couple of minutes later she came upstairs, and knocked on my door again. She walked in, holding a bunch of red roses.

"What are those?" I asked.

"They're for you," she told me. "Liz just brought them round. There's a note on them. I haven't read it yet. She said that she was going to come back in half an hour, and see if she could talk to you then. If you said no, then that was fair enough, she'd leave you alone."

I looked at my Mum, and bit my lip. I stood up, and took the flowers off her. I found the note, in its little envelope, and took it out.

"You'd best get them in some water," my Mum observed.

"In a minute," I said.

She nodded, and moved to the door. She turned when she got there. "It's up to you," she began, "but I really think that you ought to see her at least. Give her the chance to explain. I know she's upset you. She knows she's upset you. But in some ways, it's a bit of a compliment."

"A compliment?"

"Yes. If she was boasting about you to her friends, you could take it as a compliment. I know she said you'd let her do things you wouldn't, but at least she wants her friends to know that she's with you."

I pouted a little at this. I could hardly refute what she was saying without admitting in more detail what had gone on that afternoon. She shrugged, and walked back downstairs.

I sat back down on the bed, and opened the little envelope. Whatever Liz was saying to me, it was going to be short, judging by the size of the card inside. I pulled it out and looked at it.

"TO MY LOVELY SARAH. I AM SO SORRY. PLEASE LET ME EXPLAIN. LOVE LIZ."

A bit corny, I thought to myself. What was there to explain anyway? She had conned me into giving her a blowjob, and arranged for all her friends to watch. I pouted at the note, as if it were Liz herself.

I heard my Mum back at the door. "Have you decided yet?" she asked quietly.

I looked at her. "Well perhaps I'll see her," I suggested. "I suppose she deserves the chance to explain herself."

"Yes," she agreed. "You might want to tidy yourself up a bit first. You look a bit pale and pasty from all those tears."

I put my hand to my face, and quickly stood up and went over to the mirror. She was right. I had managed to get rid of all the make up, but my eyes still looked red, and my cheeks were a rather sickly white. There was no way I wanted Liz to see me looking like this. She didn't need to know how upset I had been. I wanted to appear cool and calm while she tried to excuse the inexcusable.

"I haven't got time for a shower!" I said, beginning to panic a little.

"No," my Mum agreed. "Maybe you could just put a bit of blusher on or something."

"Make up?" I asked, surprised that she would suggest I wore such a thing.

"Yes," she went on. "Come on Steve, it's not as if you've never worn it before."

That was true enough, but what she didn't know as yet was that I had decided to put an end to Sarah. Steve didn't wear make up did he? It was hardly appropriate, but the circumstances were such that the need to put on a brave face before Liz seemed a stronger need. I went over to my bag, and found the make up within it. Sure enough, there was enough blusher and other stuff in there to enable me to rebuild my face right enough. And, I told myself, it wasn't anything to do with dressing as a girl. No, of course not, it was almost the opposite. It would help me put Sarah aside, by showing Liz that I wasn't all that upset about her silly trick, even though I was.

With these hardly coherent thoughts and justifications going through my mind, I quickly began colouring up my cheeks. Mum went back downstairs. I even decided that a bit of eyeliner would not go amiss, given that my eyes looked so red and sore, and finished off with a touch of lip-gloss. Pleased with my efforts, I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled.

I brushed my hair, and wondered how I should wear it. For a second, I wondered whether I could put in an Alice Band, or something similar, to stop the 'in need of a wash' look impinging on my cool and collectedness. I stopped myself however. An Alice Band was hardly the sort of thing someone who was trying to get rid of Sarah should be wearing.

Speaking of wearing, what would be appropriate clothing for the meeting, I suddenly thought, looking at my rather dull T-shirt and jeans. I needed something that would show Liz that I was perfectly capable of being sexy and sophisticated without her, and yet something that belied her attempt to get me branded as a tart.

Sarah would probably have worn a simple blouse and a skirt, I thought to myself; but I wasn't Sarah, I was Steve. Steve didn't wear blouses and skirts. I eventually found a smart enough black silk shirt that a relative had given me for my birthday. It could perhaps have done with an iron, but I decided that its slightly crumpled look would suit the mood of the occasion better. I pulled it up and down a few times, to see what gave it the best look for the effect I wanted to have. This was difficult. I had never really bothered with how to dress to this extent before. Still, I had never been in this situation before. I decided a quick spray of perfume would be sensible as well. I felt sweaty and smelly from the day's activity, and decided that as soon as I had seen Liz off, I would have a shower.

Taking the roses, I went downstairs to the kitchen, which was empty. I trimmed the stems, and found a vase to put them in. I wondered whether it would have more dramatic effect to throw them into the bin, but decided that it was cooler to thank Liz for her gift in an adult manner, and then let her know what I thought of her.

Mum came into the kitchen. "You look nice dear," she said, smiling. "Let's have a look." I turned my face towards her. "Very nice. You certainly know how to put on the war paint don't you?" she went on, smiling at me. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," I said, lying. I was beginning to tremble inside. Any minute now, Liz would be at the door, and I would have to face her fawning apology, and then send her away with a bee in her ear.

The doorbell rang. "I'll be in the living room if you need me," my Mum said, with concern on her face. She came across and gave me a quick hug. "Don't make her suffer too much will you?"

I smiled in response, took a deep breath, and walked as tall as I could down the hallway to answer the door. I cursed myself for not having the foresight to put on a pair of shoes with heels; I would have been even taller then, not the sort of person who gets pushed around too easily.

I opened the door, and saw Liz standing there. I immediately saw that no pair of heels would have made me look tall compared to her, as she stood on the doorstep several inches higher than me. My heart fluttered inside me as I looked up at her forlorn face, and I was swept with an overpowering desire to move closer to her. I managed to resist this, however.

"Hello," she said mournfully. "Did you get the flowers and the note."

I nodded. "Yes. Thank you, they were nice."

She looked around, and shuffled uncomfortably. "I wanted to say how sorry I was," she began, and then stopped, her blue eyes staring into my face to see if there was any reaction. There certainly was a reaction; my body was screaming at me to step forward, and let her take me into her strong arms, and lock tongues with me. I struggled to stop any of this showing on my face.

"I had no idea," she said.

"No idea!" I blurted out. "You had no idea that you were going to make me the laughing stock of the whole school!"

She looked shocked, and shook her head.

"Well I didn't think it was particularly funny," I went on, "tricking me into doing that for you so all your friends could come and look. Did they enjoy it?" I demanded. "Did you sell tickets or something?"

"Sarah, I didn't know they were there!" she protested.

"My name is Steve!" I said, with some venom. "So you didn't notice them coming into the changing room, and gathering around in a little circle?"

"No," she said, her eyes refusing to meet mine. "I was a little preoccupied with what you were doing at the time!"

"Well how did they know that we'd be in there. Tell me that!"

"They didn't!" she replied. "Not until they got in anyway. That's what they told me afterwards anyway."

"And how kind of them not to interrupt us!" I continued. "They thought they'd just wait until we'd finish did they? How nice of them!"

She looked sheepishly at me. "I can't answer for them Sarah," she said, quietly. "All I can say is that I didn't invite them in, or tell them what we were going to do. That's all I can say except sorry."

"And why did you tell some of your friends that I'd let you have sex with me before the game?" I demanded. "Don't deny it. I heard you. I was sitting outside the changing room at the time!"
She looked surprised. She obviously hadn't expected this. She looked down at the ground between her feet, before raising her head to reply. "I'm sorry," she said again. "You know what it's like."

"I know what what's like?" I asked her, folding my arms across my chest.

"When you're with friends, you sort of exaggerate sometimes."

"Exaggerate!"

"Yes. You know. They were teasing me about going out with a toyboy, so I thought I'd tell them how hot you were."
"Hot!" I nearly screamed. "So I'm hot am I?"

"I didn't mean that," she stammered.

"So I'm not hot! You don't think I'm sexy then?"

She looked confused, and grimaced before responding. "Of course I think you're sexy. I was just trying to enhance my own reputation, that's all."

"By ruining mine!" I pointed out.

She closed her eyes, and turned her head away. A few moments later, she said. "Sarah, I really am sorry. About the boasting thing."
"And you're not sorry about the changing room show we put on?"

"Yes, I'm sorry about that too!" she said, rather loudly. I backed away a little. I knew she had something of a temper. "I'm sorry," she said again, seeing my reaction. "I wouldn't hurt you, you know that."

She held her arm out towards me, and my body ached for its touch. I resisted, however. She mustn't think that she could simply sway me by appealing to my physical needs. "You'd better not," I mumbled, trying to sound threatening, although looking up at her, so much taller and stronger than me, this was a faintly ridiculous concept.

She let her arm fall. "I don't know what else to say Sarah," she said, plaintively. I tossed my head backward, and brushed the hair out of my eyes. "I can see why you're angry. I was angry too."

"Yes, I heard."

She looked at me puzzled for a moment.

"From Sue, Andrea's sister." I explained.

"Oh right. Well there's one or two of our audience who wish they'd never been involved now."

I looked at her, and shook my head. "Violence isn't always the answer." I said, rather prudishly. An awkward silence followed.

"Well what do you want me to do?" she asked. "I've belted two of them, and told the others that if they ever mention it again, they'll get a pasting from me. I don't know what else I can do."

It was my turn to look away.

"So what do you want me to do Sarah? I love you, and I want you back!" she said, her gorgeous blue eyes looking pleadingly into mine. My body screamed at me again to let her take me, but I fought the impulse off.

"I don't know," I said eventually. "Thanks for bothering to come around anyway."

"Do you believe me?" she demanded. "That I knew nothing about it!"

I looked at her, and gently nodded. "I suppose so," I said.
"So is everything all right between us now?" she asked. "Are we still going out?"

I looked at her, and took a deep breath. "I don't know. I want to think about it."

"Oh please Sarah!" she said, grabbing my arm.

I shook it off again. "Don't grab me!" I said. "I'll think about it, and we can talk about it tomorrow."

She looked deeply and mournfully at me, and my resolve nearly melted. She needed to go through this to know that, weak as I might be compared to her, she couldn't just push me around.

"All right," she conceded at last. "Shall I give you a lift to school tomorrow?"

"No," I said, quickly and decisively. If I was going to sort out all these different things, there was no way I wanted to be trapped in a car with someone who had such a powerful effect on my judgement. "I'll see you there."

She looked disappointed. "All right. But remember I love you Sarah."

I smiled thinly and nodded. Reluctantly, she walked down the path, and over the road to her car. I closed the door behind me, and leant against it for a few moments, before walking down the hall, and poking my head around the living room door.

"Are you okay?" my Mum asked.

I smiled and nodded. "I think I'll just catch a bath," I told her.

"Good idea," she said, and went back to watching the television.

I went upstairs, and turned on the bath taps, before going to my bedroom to get undressed. I felt rather pleased with myself. I had resisted the urge to sink into Liz's arms, and shown her that I was more than a mere toy for her pleasure. That, and I was well on the way to seeing Sarah out of my life. Remembering our conversation, I cursed myself for not correcting her use of that name for me more often. If we were to continue to go out, I told myself, she would have to get used to calling me Steve.

I took off my silk shirt, and looked at myself. There were still some vague marks from the bra I had been wearing earlier in the day, but they were fading. I knew from experience that they would be gone by the morning, and then, for good, for I also knew that I would never wear a bra again.

I took one of the make up removing wipes, and took off my meeting Liz face. I stared at my naked visage again. It looked a little dull, and uninteresting, but at least it was mine. There was no trace of Sarah in it, or at least, anybody else's idea of who Sarah should be.

Excellent, I thought to myself. No girl's clothes or make up for me, ever again. That would be the end of my troubles! I slipped off my socks, and wiggled my toes, thinking oddly for a moment that they should have some varnish on. I shook my head to warn myself off that road. No more girl's stuff for me!

Proud of my resolve, and my performance, I stood up and unbuttoned my jeans, letting them fall to the floor. To my horror, as they fell the revealed the knickers that I had put on that morning. The pink fluffy ones Liz had brought me. What a fool I had been! All the times I had been praising myself for getting rid of all things Sarah, I had been wearing them, and hadn't even realised it. They glared back at me from the mirror in accusation and assertion; assertion that deep down I was Sarah. Their pinkness defied me to deny it. I could delude myself as much as I wanted, but underneath, all the time, there was a part of Sarah firmly attached to me. I shuddered, and slipped the knickers off carefully. Sarah was going to be far more difficult to kill off than I had imagined. Steve might be the one who had to go.

  

  

  

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