By L. Rochelle
(c) 1999 (c) 2000 L. Rochelle
lrochelle@zdnetonebox.com
This is my first attempt at writing of any kind, let alone a story. Please keep in mind that this is a work in progress and may be changed to reflect and enhance events that may occur as the story unfolds. I have decided to go ahead and post this story in an uncompleted form to Fiction Mania's Mailing list in the hopes of receiving some input and criticism. Also, I would like to point out that this story thus far contains no sex, but has a TG theme. So, if you are offended by such a story or are underage (-18), please deposit in the circular file.
At this point, I would like to thank several people for their patience and understanding. To ChilliTNG, thank you for editing this hack job and providing the instruction that I sorely needed to be able to write at all. To Janice Dreamer, for your kind words of praise for my developing writing abilities as well as a second editor. Thank you for taking the time to post this story to the list for me. And last of all I give special thanks to Wendy J for your encouragement and input. Your friendship and love has been an inspiration to me. I also thank you for believing in me and my abilities even when I wouldn't believe in myself. To all three of my dear friends I love you all and count myself lucky to consider you as the best of friends.
Sapphire has exclusive rights to archive this story at Sapphire's Place. All rights to "Making Lemonade" is mine alone.
Chapter Fourteen
"Miss Dicowski," prompted Mr. Grainger as he hurried down the hall of the admin building, "I would like you to handle a special... err... student."
Dana Dicowski, loaded down with a stack of files that she'd taken home to study the previous evening, stopped her trek to her new office. This was her first day on the job, officially, as a guidance councilor. She was overwhelmed by the number of students that had been assigned to her and was just a little perturbed by Mr. Grainger's request. "Mr. Grainger, I have more than I can handle at the moment. I think it would be best...."
"Please, just take a look," Mr. Grainger interrupted. "I'm only asking. I think that you can help this student better than anyone else. But, if you decide that it'll be too much for you... I'll understand. But please, just take a look. Here's his file." He placed the file on top of the stack she was toting.
"Mr. Grainger, please report to your office. Mr. Grainger, please report to your office," came the voice of the receptionist in his office over the PA.
"I'm sorry, Miss Dicowski," he said sarcastically. "Just one of the perks of this wonderful job. I'll call you later, after I take care of the morning ritual of discipline. I can try answer any questions you might have then." He then turned and headed back down the hallway to his office, not giving the newest guidance councilor a chance to respond. He did feel a little guilty for his sarcasm -- he did like his job and really did feel like he was making a difference.
Dana watched him walk down the hallway; his stride bespoke of the authority he wielded. She continued to her office after he disappeared into his. "What have I gotten myself into?" she thought. "I could've taken that job in Oregon. A nice little high school in a nice little town, but NO... I had to take this one, thinking I could help more kids."
She went into her office and dropped the burden she was carrying on her tiny desk. The office was small. Hell, the walk-in closet in her apartment was bigger than this office. She slumped into her chair, pinching the bridge of her tiny nose. Finally, she sighed and picked up the file that Mr. Grainger had given her.
"Mark O'Connell," she read on the tab. The color coded tab indicated the student was in the eighth grade. She opened the file and scanned the contents. "What's so special about him?" she said to herself after a few minutes. "Above average intelligence. Actually, way above average. Grades rather low, considering his high intellect, but again, not really that unusual." She had to do a paper her freshman year on the effects of shrinking budgets in the public school systems. One of the most disconcerting realities was that many of the more advanced students weren't being challenged, resulting in the child's withdrawal from society. Their prevalent attitude was "What's the point?" With the advent of the turn key home, these kids didn't have anyone who really cared whether or not they succeeded. Her research revealed that as long as the children kept out of trouble, they were for the most part ignored by the parents and the teachers alike. The parents, to be fair, were so overwhelmed with the task of providing for their family in a society where prices for life's necessities continued to rise beyond reason that they were too tired and drained to devote the attention the children needed. The teachers were forced to treat the classroom as a factory line of sorts. Too many students and an administration that cared only that everything ran smoothly, so it seemed.
"Advanced student program. Well, at least someone cared enough to recognize his potential. It's a shame that who ever it was couldn't instill a sense of accomplishment. Let's see..." she read further. "Some disciplinary problems, but nothing violent. Ahhh... Ms. Fairchild. Well, not really a major problem then. God, that woman is such a witch."
Dana'd met briefly with Ms. Fairchild and instantly disliked her. It was so obvious that the hag hated her, too. "How can someone like that be a teacher?" she mused.
She turned her attention back to the file. "Well, I don't see the problem here. By all rights, this should be in the hands of Mr. Sanchez. He's a good councilor. He's been dealing with this student from the start. I just don't get it." She read and reread the file, trying to find something that warranted this special treatment.
Dana closed the file and placed on the corner of her desk. She then retrieved the list she'd made out the previous evening -- a list of the students she felt she needed to see first. As she began filing out summonses for the students she wanted to see, she decided to send for Mark. Maybe if she met with him, she might see what Mr. Grainger's concerns were.
***************
Janet sat quietly in her homeroom, hoping Ms. Fairchild would leave her alone for once, but that wasn't meant to be.
"Miss O'Connell!" bellowed Ms. Fairchild. The other students would've laughed, but with Ms. Fairchild they knew better. "Did you honestly think that you could skip detention without it coming to my attention!"
"But..." Janet began, but Ms. Fairchild didn't give her a chance to speak.
"I don't want to hear it!" she yelled. "Report to Mr. Grainger immediately! Get out of my sight, young lady!" She said it with so much venom in her voice; Janet was nearly in tears and Ms. Fairchild was taking great pleasure with the reaction.
Janet was able to compose herself on the way to the admin office. "I spend more time in Mr. Grainger's office than I do in homeroom," she reflected.
She entered the office, but couldn't take a seat on the long bench because it was full already. "Must be contagious," she thought as she leaned against the counter.
Mr. Grainger came through the door a few minutes later. He halted his purposeful stride when he saw Mark leaning against the counter. "Mr. O'Connell?" he began to question. Thinking twice about going into the reasons in front of the other students, he directed Mark to his office.
Janet left Mr. Grainger's office a few minutes later, relieved that he actually listened to her and even appeared sympathetic to her unfair treatment by Ms. Fairchild. Even though homeroom was still in session, Mr. Grainger told her to go on to her next class. She figured she could use the extra time to compose herself. Her spirits picked up a little with the knowledge that she didn't have to deal with the witch from hell again that day.
Algebra was a breeze, as usual. It was one of the few subjects that she didn't have to devote any brain power to. They had a quiz, which Janet finished with enough time left over to complete her homework. Some of her other classes require more effort to achieve a passing grade and she gave only as much as she had to. What was the point in getting an "A" when a "C" would do?
She was beginning to think that she might have the afternoon free to just enjoy for a change. She felt like she needed a rest. The past week was the busiest she could ever remember, but she did have to admit, it was fun. She did feel a little guilty about that. Was it right to enjoy being a girl? She was torn between the joy she felt when she thought she was beautiful and the old belief that she didn't have the right to be happy. She still thought God hated her, but she was really trying to believe otherwise. She was tired of feeling bad all the time. And, as much as she wanted to believe otherwise, Christianity was a part of her. She did believe, but she also had her doubts.
Janet's thoughts turned to the changes in her life that'd taken place over the last week as she made her way to her next class. First and foremost was the fact that she found it difficult to see herself as the boy she was. Her mind knew the truth, but her heart and soul refused to accept it. It seemed that everyone around her was having the same problem. She wondered about the possible scandal that Susanne had alluded to, but so far everything seemed to point to the probability that the world would refuse to believe the truth. Even her girlfriends had changed the way they treated her. Most of them now looked at her as one of them, with the exception of Diane and Karen. Diane she could sort of understand, being somewhat of a tomboy, but Karen was puzzling. Karen was so feminine and so beautiful. Why, all of a sudden -- after seeing Janet in a dress -- was Karen so obviously taken with her? The only possible answer she refused to entertain.
The most confusing to Janet was her mother. Why was her mother not only accepting the situation, but actually pleased by it? It just didn't make any sense. Everything Janet had been taught about Christianity said that what she was doing was an abomination. And here was her mother, a devout Christian, treating her like a beloved daughter, trying to teach her everything a woman should know. Sure, she'd told Janet that she believed that it was God's will, but Janet couldn't see how that could be. She was a boy, after all, and the Bible had very definite definitions of the roles of men and women.
Thinking about Jay produced a sense of loss. She hadn't seen or heard from him in nearly a week, except the brief glimpse at the mall, and the realization that she probably wouldn't any time soon made her fight back the welling tears. She really couldn't blame him. She wondered if he would miss her. She surely missed him.
Donna and Nancy were outside Janet's Biology class, chatting away. Donna's class was only a couple of rooms away and Nancy was in Janet's class. They hadn't noticed her until she was almost standing in front of them. They moved to either side of her and simultaneously kissed her on the cheeks.
"Hi, sweetie," said Donna cheerfully. "What happened this morning? Diane and I went to meet you after homeroom, but you were already gone. Getting tired of us already?" she asked teasingly.
"Oh, Ms. Fairchild," returned Janet, "she thought I ditched detention and sent me to Mr. Grainger's office."
"But I thought you said Mr. Grainger suspended detention. Didn't you tell Ms. Fairchild?"
"She wouldn't let me say anything!" said Janet, exasperated. "Mr. Grainger just told me he'd take care of it and sent me on to my next class. I'm glad I didn't have to go back to homeroom. I couldn't face Ms. Fairchild again."
Donna was turning red with anger. "Damn that bitch!" she hissed under her breath. "One of these days...."
Nancy placed a hand on Donna's shoulder and gave her an admonishing look. Donna, understanding the message, visibly calmed. "Sorry, Jan... ummm... Mark. It just makes me so mad that she treats you like that. Nobody treats my Mark like that, nobody!"
"Thanks, Donna. I love you, too," smiled Janet. She hugged Donna and pulled Nancy into the embrace as well. "I love you, too, Nan."
"Ditto," whispered Nancy. She did love Janet, but for the past few days she'd been wrestling with her confused feelings. She felt a sense of loss. She had been in love with Mark, but she couldn't find that person in the one she was now hugging. Mark was so shy and unsure of himself; he needed Nancy. Janet possessed the same traits, but it was different somehow. Janet didn't appear to need anyone. To be sure, glimpses of Mark were still there, but as the days passed, he seemed to fade further and further away. The more she thought about it, she realized that the very characteristics that she'd caught flashes of in Mark, and which had attracted her to him, were the same ones that were overwriting Mark's reserved personality. She found herself thinking about the day she fell in love with Mark....
**************
Mark had just walked through the gate with his friend Chuck when another boy running past had knocked over a girl a few yards away. Her books went flying and she went to the ground hard. She was a heavy set girl and rather homely. She wore a conservative skirt that went to mid-calf. Her coke-bottle glasses dropped a few feet away and blood was running down her leg. Several students who were gathered in the area were laughing at her expense. Mark's friend Chuck was doing the same, but Mark wasn't. Nancy noticed the compassion in his eyes which drew her complete attention.
Mark ran to the girl, dropping to his knees by her side. "Oh God, your hurt," he said.
"I'm... I'm okay," she stammered. "Please, just leave me alone."
"No, you're not okay. You're bleeding." Mark reached out and picked up her glasses and handed them to her. Then he ripped the bottom three or four inches of his tee shirt off and wrapped it around her knee, quelling the flow of blood. "This looks pretty nasty. You'll need to see the nurse."
"No, I'll be fine. I need to get to homeroom," she protested. She still hadn't looked at Mark.
"Homeroom'll have to wait. I'm taking you to the nurse's office." The authority in his voice forced her to finally look up at him. The concern in his eyes stopped any further protest. She knew she really didn't have much choice.
Her face began to flush as she tore her gaze away from his beautiful face. "All right. But, I can get there on my own."
Mark shook his head and replied, "Sorry again, but I'm going to help you get there. You're going to have trouble walking with that knee." He glanced at Chuck, who was still chuckling to himself. "Chuck, make yourself useful and pick up her books, will ya?"
"Aw, Mark, leave her be. You can't afford to be late again," whined Chuck.
There was a look of surprise on the girl's face.
"Let me worry about Ms. Fairchild. Now get your ass over here and pick up the books," Mark replied venomously.
Chuck complied, grumbling to himself, as Mark helped the girl to her feet. "Just lean on me," he said, noticing her wince from the pain. "I'll take those," he said, holding out his arm to Chuck who was returning to Mark's side. Mark gathered up the books in his free arm and looked back at Chuck. "Why don't you head to class? I got this covered."
Chuck shrugged, "It's your funeral." He turned and briskly walked away, shaking his head and continuing to grumble.
"Okay. Try not to put too much weight on that knee. Just lean on me and take it slow, okay?" Mark instructed.
As they slowly made their way across the campus, the girl mumbled, "Why... why are you doing this? I'm nobody."
"You're not nobody and you need help," he replied with compassion.
She lowered her head, trying not show the pain she was in, and whispered, "Thank you."
Nancy was so intrigued that she followed discreetly. She marveled at the authority and tenderness that was a part of the shy and somewhat sad boy who was in her Biology class. He'd captured her heart without reservation. She was in love and she knew it. She was also late to class, but she didn't care....
***************
Nancy found herself jerked back from the heart warming memory by the realization that everything had changed and she fought back the tears. In a few short days, she'd lost the boy she loved. She felt sad and hurt.
Janet noticed Nancy's struggle with her tears. "Nancy? Are you okay?"
Nancy's head snapped up and she peered into Janet's eyes. "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking." She turned and looked into Donna's knowing face. The two had discussed the situation the night before and spent an hour crying in each other's arms.
All the girls had spent many an hour talking about Mark and concluded that they were going to share him. They were even willing to share with anyone else that he wanted to be with. But now it appeared like none of them would get him. He was disappearing alarmingly fast. They knew in their hearts that Janet was the real person and that Mark was the construct, but they still felt the loss.
Janet wrapped Nancy up into another hug, unsure of what to say. "Well, we better get to class," she said finally.
Donna kissed Janet on the cheek once more and asked, "See you at lunch?"
"You bet."
Nancy and Janet walked into class and took their seats, but Janet had just sat down when she heard, "Mark, there you are. You need to report to the guidance councilor."
"What now?" thought Janet, not for the first time and probably not for the last. "I seem to be spending more time in the admin building than I do in my classes." She could only shake her head, feeling a sense of deja vue.
Janet gathered her books and retrieved the combination summons and hall pass and left the room for the long trek across campus. She glanced at the slip and then had to take a closer look. She was to see Miss Dicowski. "What the...? I thought Mr. Sanchez was my guidance councilor," she thought. "Oh well, I guess he's sick or something. I bet this is about all the detention I've had this year."
She was wondering what she was going to say as she walked into the set of offices that housed the guidance councilors. She started down the wide hall, lined with benches between closed doors on either side, when she stopped at the first door on the right. The sign next to the door read, "Miss Dicowski, A - F". Janet looked down at the slip once more and then looked up at the sign.
"This can't be right," she thought. She looked further down the hall. A student was coming out of the door that was Mr. Sanchez's and Janet decided that it might be a good idea to speak to Mr. Sanchez first. Stopping the girl who came out of the door, she asked, "Is Mr. Sanchez in?"
"Ummm... yeah. He's there," replied the girl, staring at Janet. "Hey, aren't you Mark... Mark O'Connell?"
"Yeah... do I know you?" Janet asked, confused. She was pretty sure she didn't know this girl.
"Oh, no. No reason you should. But everybody knows who you are."
Janet started to feel faint. Did everyone know about the modeling already? She dropped to the bench that was next to her.
"Hey. You okay? You don't look so hot."
Janet looked up at the girl, still feeling a little dizzy. "Ummm... yeah, I'm okay. How... I mean... why would anybody know who I am?"
The girl laughed. She actually thought it was funny. "You're kidding, right?" she said after she could get a grip. "I mean... like, you hang with, like, the scariest bunch of girls in the school. You're, like, sucking face with all of them, like, all the time."
"What? Those girls are the nicest people I've ever met," defended Janet. She'd completely forgotten her earlier worries. "I've never once seen them be mean to anyone."
"Yeah, whatever. All I know is, like, they have a reputation and you are, like, their property or something."
"They don't own me," Janet protested. Was this how everybody looked at her relationship with the girls? "I like them. They treat me like I'm human. Not like everybody else. You all treat me like I've got some kind of disease or something." She paused; sadness crept into her eyes. "At least they did," she finished under her breath.
"Hey, I don't even know you. I haven't done anything to you and I don't think it's fair to get down on me like that," she said without a trace of the valley girl accent.
"Sorry. I guess I shouldn't generalize. It's just that the girls made me feel...." Janet trailed off because she was trying to stifle her tears.
"Hey, it's cool. Anyhow, I gotta get to class." The girl turned and continued down the hall.
Janet sat on the bench a few moments longer and then she too got up, but instead of going to Mr. Sanchez's office, she decided to follow the information on the slip. She figured that it was a mistake and would soon be out of there and on her way back to class. She really didn't feel like talking to anyone just then.
Janet knocked on the door and it immediately opened. Standing in front of the filing cabinet that stood next to the doorway was a woman who appeared to be the very definition of androgyny. She was slightly taller than Janet, sporting a short, man-style haircut. Her makeup was very subtle and she wore a minimum of jewelry. From Janet's position she could see that the woman was wearing a man's-style suit, complete with tie.
"Yes?" she asked impatiently.
"Ummm... I was told to report to your office."
"Beverly Anderson?" she questioned.
Ummm... no," said Janet, looking down at the slip once again and then at the sign next to the door. "I'm Mark O'Connell." Janet paused momentarily as she observed the woman's obvious surprise. "I thought it was a mistake. Sorry to bother you." She started to turn and hurry down the hallway, but Miss Dicowski's voice halted her.
"No, wait," said Dana, recovering slightly from her shock. "It's not a mistake. I did send for you. Please come in and have a seat. I'll be with you in a minute."
Janet looked at the woman who seemed to be staring at her in shock. Shrugging slightly, she walked into the tiny office and sat down in the chair in front of the desk, very aware that Miss Dicowski was watching her the whole time.
Dana couldn't help herself. Mark's mannerisms, the beauty of his face, the shape of his body, even the inflections of his voice defined femininity. She tore her attention away from the boy and continued to put the files away. "Did Mr. Grainger know about me?" she wondered. "I know I don't hide it. Is this why he thinks I can help better than the others?"
Janet watched Miss Dicowski as she worked. Her pinstripe suit had been tailored to fit her shapely body, and she completed the ensemble with a silk blouse with a tie and nondescript loafers. Janet didn't want to make the same mistake she'd made earlier about generalizing, but she suspected that Miss Dicowski was a lesbian.
Dana finished her task and returned to her chair behind her desk, observing the boy as she went. "Manicured nails; long, luscious hair; earrings. If he weren't a child and male, I could fall for him in a heartbeat," she thought before she caught herself staring at the boy. "I still can't believe he's male. Damn! He's so beautiful. And... familiar. I've seen that face before. I just can't remember where." Dana reluctantly looked down at the file in front of her, opened it, and began to go over it once more. She looked up again and saw that Mark was now staring at her. Her breath caught in her throat. "Oh, my. Those eyes. Almost hypnotic. I've got to get a hold of myself."
"Miss Dicowski?" Janet began. "I'm confused. Mr. Sanchez has been my guidance councilor since I started school here. According to the sign, you handle A - F. My name starts with O."
"Yes, well..." Dana choked out. She paused to swallow hard several times. "Mr. Grainger thought that I may be able to serve your needs better than Mr. Sanchez."
"Oh," Janet replied, flushing deeply. She wondered how much Mr. Grainger had said to Miss Dicowski about her unusual situation.
"Now, this is interesting. She's embarrassed. Damn! He! He! I've got to get that straight," thought Dana, chiding herself. "Do you know why that is, Mark? Do you mind if I call you Mark?" she asked.
"Ummm... no, Mark's fine." Janet paused briefly, wondering what to say and how much to say. She decided to take it slow and feel her way through the conversation. "Ummm... I'm not sure, but maybe all the detention I've had this year?"
Dana studied Mark for several moments, then replied, "That's possible, but Mr. Sanchez could deal with that as well as I could. Besides, I don't see a major problem in that area, considering.... Tell me, why is it that Ms. Fairchild seems to come down on you so much? You strike me as a rather likeable person."
"I don't know," shrugged Janet. "She's hated me form the very beginning. It's gotten a lot worse lately."
"How so?"
Janet fidgeted in her seat and began to flush with embarrassment. It wasn't so much that she was embarrassed about being seen or referred to in the feminine -- at least not any more -- but she felt a little uncomfortable about talking about it with someone she'd just met.
Dana found this reaction interesting. "She's embarrassed. I wonder why?" she thought. She briefly chastised herself again for the gender slip.
Janet finally gathered up her courage and stated in a tone of voice she hoped sounded indifferent, "After Halloween, she's been a lot worse. She just waits for any reason to get down on me."
"Why? Did you pull some kind of prank on her?"
Janet resigned herself to the inevitability of the fact that there wasn't going to be any way to skirt the subject. "Well... no. I never liked practical jokes. I think... well... it's because of my Halloween costume. You see, my girlfriends thought it would be fun to dress me up as Snow White. Since then, she calls me Miss O'Connell and young lady. She seems to get great pleasure in embarrassing me."
Dana felt Mark showed less embarrassment than she thought he should've. A very interesting reaction, considering he seemed to be embarrassed earlier. "Snow White. I bet he looked adorable," she thought. "Girlfriends. He sure doesn't seem the womanizing type." The lack of shame about dressing as Snow White and Ms. Fairchild's attempts to set him off intrigued her more. She decided to probe a little. "Does it? Embarrass you, that is."
Janet thought about it a moment. She realized that it didn't very much. She began to ponder the reasons, but she saw that Dana was waiting for an answer. "I don't know why, but it doesn't. Not much anyway."
Dana sat quietly, waiting for Mark to elaborate, but it became obvious that he wasn't going to oblige. Her frustration with his lack of unsolicited information was mounting fast, so she decided to push a little. She stood up and made her way around her desk. She circled around Mark like a hawk bearing down on its prey. Reaching out, she pushed aside the hair covering his left ear to reveal the triple earrings. She tucked the hair behind his ear and repeated the action with his right ear.
Janet was too dumbfounded to react. It was obvious to her that Miss Dicowski knew about her situation, or at least had her suspicions. She never did say what Mr. Grainger had told her. Janet couldn't help wondering whether or not she was that transparent. She certainly hoped not.
Dana leaned back against her desk and looked down at Mark's bowed head. He didn't appear shamed, just unsure. "Mark," she said, trying to get him raise his head and look at her.
Janet's head came up slowly as she squared her shoulders. She knew that, sooner or later, she would have to deal with situations like this. She figured now was as good a time as any to see how she would handle it. As far as she could determine, she had two choices. It was either cower in the corner and withdraw -- an ability she seemed to have lost -- or hold her head high and be proud of who and what she is, as Mrs. Fisher had said. She chose the latter.
When Dana's eyes met Mark's, she found it difficult to maintain eye contact. His eyes were so magnetic, so enchanting, that she felt uncomfortable looking at them. If only he wasn't a child. As she tore her gaze away from Mark, she caught a glimpse of something, something that surprised her. An air of confidence that wasn't there before. She went back behind her desk with the nagging feeling she'd seen that look before.
She sat down and looked at Mark again. She wasn't sure how to phrase her next question, but the expression on his face made her realize that being direct was probably best. "You said earlier that your girlfriends dressed you up as Snow White. I just wondered how you felt about it."
Janet knew what Miss Dicowski was fishing for and decided that she had to be as candid as possible. "They pulled a fast one on me. I was asked to dress as Prince Charming, but when the time came, they claimed a mix-up in the sizes. I was scared to death, but it wasn't so bad, really."
Janet's answer wasn't exactly what Dana had hoped for, so she tried another approach. "Your earrings. Were they your idea or was it another one of your girlfriends'?"
"Well, neither, actually. They're a requirement of my job." Janet was shocked by her own words. Maybe Miss Dicowski missed it.
Dana looked down at the file once again. Finding what she was looking for, she said, "I find it difficult to believe that any job would require earrings. Besides, you're only thirteen. As I understand it, you legally can't have a job until you're fourteen. Does this job begin in a few weeks when you turn fourteen?"
"Well, no. Actually, I've already started working. It's one of those jobs that are... ummm... well, age doesn't matter. Ummm... I'm a model." Janet observed Miss Dicowski's reaction. She seemed confused and disbelieving, at least until she started to speak.
"A model? I don't...." Dana halted her reply when something clicked in her mind. All of a sudden, she remembered where she'd seen that face. She sat back in her chair and watched Mark's reaction as he realized that she'd figured it out. It wasn't what she expected. "Janet?" she said, more to herself than to Mark.
Dana remembered the fashion section in the L A. Times Monday morning. The pictures of Janet had stirred her blood. She remembered thinking that the model in the wedding gown was the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. Almost as if her dream girl actually existed. She found it hard to believe that this supposed boy sitting in front of her and the model from the paper were one and the same person. Besides the fact that this boy, without makeup, looked so much younger than the pictures in the paper, but upon further examination she found the resemblance was unmistakable.
"Ummm... I think I know what you're thinking... everybody thinks that. But, I assure you, I am a boy. And none of this was my idea. It just happened. I walked in a mall with one of my girlfriends on Friday and walked out a model on Sunday. Everything happened so fast," Janet babbled.
"Girlfriends? Yes, I was meaning to ask you about that. Do you mean 'girl friends' or 'girlfriends'?" Dana asked, trying to latch on to something other than the thoughts going through her head.
"Girlfriends. Well, at least they were until this happened. Everything's different now." Janet couldn't hide the sadness she felt about the loss.
"They know about this?"
"Yeah, we all hang together and... you've got to understand. They've been friends for a long time and they don't keep any secrets form each other."
"Wait a minute. Are you telling me your girlfriends know about each other and they don't mind? How many are there, if you don't mind my asking?" It seemed that everything about Mark's life was surprising.
"Ummm... well... there are nine of them. I'm closer to one of them than I am to the others, but they all treat me the same." Janet observed the skepticism that was apparent on Miss Dicowski's face. Now that she thought about it, it did seem kind of unbelievable.
"I find it hard to believe that nine girls would share one boy. Do they pass you around... you know, taking turns?"
"Well, no," began Janet, but Miss Dicowski's lifted eyebrow put her on the defensive. "Hey, it was their idea. They told me that they share everything, I don't know... sometimes I feel like... I don't know... like I don't have any choices at all," she finished rather sadly.
Dana was stunned. Mark seemed to be living a dream, both a boy's and a girl's. And now he was telling her that he didn't have any choice. He almost seemed saddened by it all. "Mark, I know it may seem that way, but the truth is, we always have choices. Sometimes the choices aren't what we want; in fact, most choices in life aren't. We're left choosing the lesser of two evils, so to speak." She still didn't want to think about the modeling just yet. She was uncomfortable with the idea that she could be so turned on by a child, plus she figured that talking about his girlfriends would help her see him as a boy. "Now, you claim that you didn't have any choice about being shared. It seems to me that most boys would love to be in your shoes. I find it hard to believe that you dislike your position, unless...."
It dawned on Janet what "unless" meant, but she didn't want to go there. Not yet, anyway. She thought about how she reacted when Charlie kissed her and began to blush. She quickly slammed down the thought. She just didn't want to face any of those sorts of possibilities.
Janet explained how she met the girls and how scared and skeptical she was at the time. And how, over the next few months, she enjoyed the time she spent with the girls. For some reason, she felt comfortable with Miss Dicowski.
"But now, everything's different," said Janet sadly. "The girls treat me like... I don't know. Different."
Dana sat silently for several minutes, hoping that Mark would continue. But he didn't. "What's different? Surely, you have some idea, otherwise you wouldn't have noticed," she asked finally.
Janet fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat, her face turning red. She just didn't want to think about it yet. But one look at Miss Dicowski convinced her that she wasn't going to get off too easily. "I don't know... the kisses are different. More like brother to sister." She knew that it wasn't the exact truth but it was close enough.
"I see. How do you feel about that?"
"I don't know. Kinda like I lost something, I guess. I kinda miss having my brains scrambled," smiled Janet. It did occur to her that Charlie had achieved the same results, but, once again, she didn't want to go there.
Dana chuckled. She couldn't help herself. The thought of Mark going weak in the knees, his eyes closed with his head spinning, his lips puffy from a passionate kiss, barely able to remain standing, quickly dowsed her humor. She couldn't lose control of her libido with this child and thoughts along those lines were too tempting.
She looked at her watch. She needed to wrap this meeting up and resigned herself to the fact that she had to discuss the modeling. "Was the modeling one or all of your girlfriends idea? I mean, it does seem unusual for a boy to model women's clothing and it seems to me your girlfriends like the idea of you dressing as a girl."
"I guess it might seem that way, considering what they did to me on Halloween. But, no. In fact, the one girlfriend I was with at the time -- Donna, Donna Fisher -- argued with me about going through with it. I just couldn't let everybody down."
"So, it was your idea then. I thought you said it wasn't."
Janet sighed deeply and began to relate the events of that fateful day. She could see that Miss Dicowski was finding the tale hard to swallow. "Look, you can verify all of it. Donna was there and she's one of your students. Although, she might not say anything. The girls want to protect me. Maybe that wouldn't be a good idea."
There was a knock on the door just then and Dana got up and opened the door. "Beverly Anderson?" At the girl's nod, she continued, "I'll be with you in a moment. Please have a seat." She closed the door and returned to her seat.
"Well, Janet. Oops. Sorry. Mark. I'm just a little overwhelmed. It seems your life in the last few months is rather unbelievable. You don't strike me as the sort who would make up a story like this, so I'm inclined to believe you. I think we need to talk some more. I want you to think about how all these things that are going on in your life are going to affect your future. According to your records, you're highly intelligent and I think it would be sad to see that go to waste. You've had a very busy few months and, if the newspapers are to be believed, you're going to be even busier. I think we need to discuss how you're going to balance your education with your job. And I think we need to talk about what's going to happen when you enter puberty and you can't continue with your job. By the way, what do your parents think about your job?"
"Well, it's strange. Mom seems happy about it. Considering her religion, I'm still confused about that."
"How about your father?"
"He doesn't know. I haven't seen him in a couple of years. Mom and Dad got divorced almost five years ago. I don't see him much. Besides, I don't think he likes me much," Janet said, unable to hide the extreme hurt that she felt about it. Her father always seemed ashamed of her.
"I'm sorry," replied Dana, feeling Mark's sadness. "Think about the things we've talked about. I'll talk with you tomorrow. Is that okay? I really think we have a great many things to discuss, but, unfortunately, I don't have the time today."
Dana stood up and came around the desk, extending her hand to Mark, saying, "I'll see you tomorrow."
Janet stood up and took the proffered hand.
As Mark lowered his hand and began to move toward the door, Miss Dicowski stopped him, reached up and moved the hair that she'd tucked behind his ears back into place. "Might be a good idea to keep these hidden." Her heart skipped a beat as she lightly brushed her hand across his cheek. She resolved to keep her hands away from Mark as much as possible. She found her excitement with a child disconcerting.
Dana watched Mark walk down the hallway until he disappeared into the main hallway. Sighing finally, she turned to the girl she had next on her schedule. "Beverly, please come in," she said to the girl and went to her desk. After scanning Beverly's file she looked up and was surprised to see the girl was barely able to hold back her laughter. "Miss Anderson, what do you find so amusing?"
Beverly's smile was as much of an explanation as anything she could've said, but she spoke anyway, "He's somethin'. I still think he's a girl, but...."
Dana wasn't quit sure how to respond to the girl's comment. She didn't think it appropriate to discuss another student, but her curiosity won out. "Do you know Mr. O'Connell?"
Beverly laughed this time as she shook her head. "No, but I know of him. Everybody does."
"Oh really," Dana said, somewhat skeptical. "'Everybody' is a bit over the top, don't you think?"
"Well, I suppose... but I don't think there's a person in this school who doesn't know who Mark is. Especially after Halloween. I still don't think a boy could look as good as he did in that costume. He did win the contest."
"I see. Well, I called you in to talk about you, so...." Dana promptly changed the subject and got down to the business at hand.
She went through the motions with the five students she'd scheduled that day. She felt a little guilty about not being able to devote her complete attention to the students' needs, because Janet was never quite out of her conscious thoughts. As much as she tried, she found it difficult to think of Janet as Mark. Several times during the day, she was tempted to tell Mr. Grainger that she just couldn't deal with her. But each time she concluded that there really wasn't anyone else who could. She was just going to have to tighten the reins on her libido and do what was best for her. She knew it wouldn't be easy. As she left the school that afternoon, she couldn't help thinking about the high school in Oregon. "Hindsight is twenty-twenty," she thought.