The Ballad Of Nikki Weisman

by J. R. Anthony

 

It all started when I was young, just over 12 years old. I happened to have been alone that day, watching Mrs. Doubtfire, when an unexpected idea struck me: could a boy really pass for a girl? Pausing the tape, I scurried around closing the blinds and locking the doors, sneaking into my sister's room. Opening the top drawer of her dresser, I stared in awe at the rainbow of lace and cotton before my brown eyes. Bras and v-strings, and panties of every colour, all at my fingertips until my Mother and sister returned from work.

 

Grabbing a pair of blue panties, with white lace trim, I pulled them up my skinny, hairless, pre-pubescent legs. I marveled at the soft material, admiring my reflection in the mirror hung on the back of the door. Slipping one of my sister's sports bras over my head, I used rolled up socks to fill the cups. Turning again to the mirror, I saw a boyish girl with an erection tenting her panties. I was happy as a clam, but froze as both my Mother and sister appeared in the crack between the door and the wall. My sister's face went from white, to red, to green in a matter of seconds.

"What the hell are you doing in my clothes!?" she thundered, her voice rattling the aged window, against which I cowered. She advanced on me, her hands clenching into fists as her face twisted in anger.

 

My Mother dropped her keys as she entered the room Her mouth was drawn in an "o" as she took my hand and hurried me to the bathroom.

"Just what are you thinking, Nick?" she croaked, ripping the sports bra from my body.

"I-I,...um,...I..." I struggled to find an answer among my fear-ridden, paralyzed mind.

"I don't want to hear it! Any more unexpected incidents like this spell 'grounded' for you, mister!" she warned, wagging her finger at me. She then told me to get out of the panties and wash up for dinner.

 

I forced all my tendencies deep down at that moment., forbidding myself from even thinking of dressing. I swore I'd never go back. End of story, right? Wrong. Not three years later, my tendencies were awakened from what I assumed was an eternal sleep.

 

Again I was home alone, randomly searching for a good read via internet. Spotting a heading titled: "Fictionmania", I clicked on the link, not bothering to read the sub-text. The instant my eyes hit the main page, the feminine side of me was awakened. In my mind I knew that my promise would forbid me to go any further, but my heart urged me onward. I must've spent hours enjoying secret wishes of becoming the characters of those wonderful stories. Mindlessly, I found myself intruding "forbidden territory", not only donning my sister's underclothes, but pantyhose and a dress.

 

Lost in the story I was reading, I hand't noticed my sister walk in the front door. As she caught sight of me, her steps became heavier. Clutching me by the scruff of my neck, she dragged me to her bedroom and threw me onto the bed.

"I thought we ended this a long time ago." she stressed. I opened my mouth to say something, but got a slap across the face before I could utter a single syllable. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the occasional passing car.

"You just sit there quiet until gets home." she told me, a wicked grin spreading across her high cheekbones. As we waited, my sister slowly paced around in front of me, a puzzled look on her face. I was concentrated mainly on the carpeted floor beneath my feet.

 

Mother finally arrived, an hour later. Rachel, my sister, called her down the hall to the bedroom.

"He's done it again, Mom, or should I call him a she!?" she taunted as my Mother looked at me in disgust, shaking her head.

"Young man, didn't we talk about this a while ago? you're 15 years old! You should know better!" she screeched. "Take these clothes off, change into your own clothes, and meet me in the living room. We'll discuss your punishment." she told me, turning on her heel and walking down the hallway. With my sister collecting her clothes outside the door as I changed, I pulled on shorts and a t-shirt.

 

Walking out to the living room, Mom was looking a bit less frightening; curled up in her Lay-Z-Boy recliner, lightly sipping a cup of coffee.

"Now, what is the punishment for you?" Mom asked. Rachel walked up beside her and cupped her hands around Mom's ear. I couldn't make out what she said, but I was sure it would be horrible.

"What do you think?" Rachel questioned.

"Very well. Nicholas Timothy Weisman, your punishment is as follows: you will spend the next two weeks living as a girl, 24/7." she announced firmly.

"But, next week is-"

"Yes. Next week school starts." my Mother cut in. "After those two weeks, you're to decide to be either a boy or a girl from then on, and commit to your choice." she added.

 

Resigned to my fate, I sat frozen in shock on the couch. Two weeks as a girl, in front of all my friends. My punishment was cruel indeed, but, having no opinion whatsoever on the matter, I had to accept it.

"Your sister and I will help you prepare, but it's up to you whether you decide to be a normal girl, or a boy wearing a dress." my Mother warned me. As an afterthought, I was sent to bed without supper, and I dreaded the morning as I fell into an uneasy sleep. That night, all of my dreams were bizarre. Most of them involved me being forced to be with a man while dressed. I had never thought of that before when I dressed, it just felt good to wear lacy, soft clothing. I woke slowly to the alarm clock. I hadn't set an alarm, so I confusedly shuffled across the bed and hit the 'snooze' button.

 

I sat up slowly, realizing that I wasn't wearing the sleep pants and muscle shirt I had gone to bed in. Instead, I was wearing red panties with a frilly, pink nightgown. It fit poorly on my male body, but I liked the feel of it. Standing and looking in the mirror I proceeded with the usual morning routine. As I stepped into the shower, I noticed that there was a not attached to the shower head. It read: "Make sure to shave all of the hair you can from your body. DON'T HURT YOURSELF". I figured my Mom had placed it there, and I didn't want her to be in an even more sour mood, so I complied, shaving my arms, legs, underarms, face, and even some of my pubic hair. Wrapping a bathrobe around myself, I walked back to my bedroom to find my sister waiting on my bed.

"Pay close attention, little 'sis', because I'm only going to show you this stuff once." she pressed, handing me a pair of panties. I pulled them up my clean shaven legs, pleasured as the smooth material caressed my skin. Removing the bathrobe I reached for the bra. "Whoa! Hold your horses, we're not done down there yet." Rachel coughed. "We gotta take care of that extra bump." she told me. Before I knew it, the panties were around my knees, and my sister was shoving my balls up inside me, pulling my cock back between my legs and telling me to hold them there until she had the panties up snug. I was now very flat in front, just like any girl would be.

"Where'd you learn that?" I asked, slipping the familiar sports bra over my head and stuffing it with socks.

"It's a trick Mom and I researched on the internet last night." she explained, "Your boobs look so fake." she helped me re-form the socks and adjust them so they looked real enough to pass.

 

Sitting me down at my dresser-top mirror, Rachel brought out her extensive range of make-up and hair styling products. Slowly training me how to use the blusher, and the eye liner and eye shadow, and topping it off with how to put on lipstick properly. With a long blonde wig pinned to my real hair, I was ready.

"I'll lend you one of my miniskirts for now, but you're getting your own clothes." she said, holding the skirt in place while I snapped and zipped it up. The skirt gave me flaring hips, making my body more feminine. She helped me with the buttons on a plain, blue blouse and then handed me a pair of white flats to show off my toenails, which she had painted light pink during the make-up tutorial. She stood me in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom and, looking back at me was a beautiful young girl of 14 or 15 years, her face perfectly made up, her breasts supple and just right for her size.

"Now, all you gotta do is make yourself sound like a girl. Mom'll handle that. I'm off to the mall to get you your clothes, you and Mom have some business to attend to at the department store, and then you register at the school." Rachel reeled off, grabbing her purse and sliding out the front door, winking at me as she turned the corner of the house.

 

Mom was waiting for me in the kitchen, an electronic tuner in hand. She asked me to sit down, and held the tuner as close to my mouth as possible without distorting my speech.

"Just talk normally." she instructed. I did, and she said in monotone. "Hmm,...we'll have to train you to speak at least three octaves above that. Okay, speak as high as you can." she told me. I did, and she looked at me curiously. "A little lower, sweetie." The third time, I got it perfect and thus, my training as a girl complete.

"So, I'm supposed to talk like this all the time for the next two weeks?" I asked in my newfound voice.

"Yes. We also need a name for you. We can't obviously call you Nick if you're dressed like this, can we?" Mom quizzed.

"Nicole," I replied, "Nicole Emily Weisman."

"Now, we need to do some shopping at the department store so you can wear some of the clothes Rachel has in mind for you." she said, taking her keys off the hook by our jackets and leading me out to the aged Taurus car that first belonged to my grandfather. I was a bit nervous, even knowing how I looked, to be seen in public as a girl, but was fine once I got in the car. Stepping out of the car in the parking lot at the department store was a different story. I was frightened of my own shadow all across the black pavement festooned with cars of all shapes and sizes.

 

Trotting alongside my Mother, we walked through sections and sections until at last she found what she was looking for in Jennifer Dooley's, a shop for women who've had a mastectomy. We walked right up to the counter and asked for help. The lady eyed us curiously, and called a freckled girl with jet black hair from the back room. She was statuesque, her face in perfect symmetry. Her body seemed perfect in every way.

"May I help you, Ma'am?" she asked in a cheery voice, smiling.

"Yes, I'm looking for a set of breast forms. This is a specialty case, and we're looking for realistic, but not expensive." Mom answered.

"I think I have what you're looking for. Follow me." the lady said, leading us to the back of the shop and opening the curtain of a little booth for me. She flitted around the shelves, taking down a fair few boxes, and piled them beside me on the bench inside the cubicle. She wasn't at all surprised when she found out I was a boy.

"Do you get these situations often?" asked my Mother.

"No, but it's not uncommon for cross dressers to shop here." the girl replied. After trying about seven sets, I finally settled on a pair I liked. They were a B cup, and seemed made for me.

"All right. I think we've got what we need. What's your price?" Mom questioned.

"Well, usually they run about $500, but, since this is a specialty case, I'll sell them to you for $250." the lady answered. After I slipped my new "breasts" in my bra, we bid good-bye and thank you to the girl in the mastectomy shop, and then walked back out to the car. It felt weird to have two breasts bouncing and jiggling on my chest with every movement. My Mother leaned over to me and whispered.

"Walk like a girl. Step with your feet one in front of the other." she breathed. I did as told and found my bottom swaying this way and that as we walked across the parking lot. I was surprised that a few boys gave me a once over, and one of them did a twice over with a long stare at my ass.

 

Luckily, the auditorium, where they were handing out schedules for classes, was near empty. A single table stood on the stage with two secretaries working behind it. As I was handed my schedule, I read through it as my Mother paid the woman.

"So, what classes do you have, sweetie?" Mom asked. I read off the list, but stopped short as I read the last one only in mind.

"What is it?" she questioned, a worried look on her face.

"Phys. Ed." I said quietly. "Oh, no. It'll be over before it starts. As soon as I strip to take a shower after class they'll find me out."

"That is a bit of a problem. You don't have real breasts, although we could attach them easily enough. But what about the other place you need to look like a girl?" she thought. Puzzled as I was, she was silent all the way home, still pondering our dilemma. That night, the answer arrived, found on a search engine. Mom called me into the rec room and brought up the page. I was surprised and happy with what I saw.

"Are you sure it'll work?" I asked.

"Positive. I've read the description, and it's very realistic. Of course, it will take about two to four days to get here if we order it now." she answered. "What's your waist size again?"

"I think it's 18." I replied slowly.

"Okay, that's all I need, dear. I'll send for it right away." she told me.

 

I went to bed that night feeling proud and fulfilled. I had spent a whole day as a girl, not being recognized by even my friends, some of which who gave me a once over. I dreamt that night of what it would be like once I got that other piece of equipment. Being "fully functional" as a girl in appearance. I dreamt of first dates, first kisses, ignoring the voice in the back of my mind screaming: "You're a boy! You like girls! You're not a girl!!"

 

I woke slowly, my eyes fluttering from the light beaming through the window. I had forgotten to close my blind before I went to bed. Sitting and standing I slowly woke myself with a quick drink of cold water.

"Are you ready to show me you can do this yourself, 'Nikki'?" my sister teased, leaning against the heavy wooden door. I could see the rusty copper hinges sagging as she let all of her weight onto the door.

"I know I can do it myself, Rachel. I'm not stupid! It's not like everything you said went in this ear and out the other." I retorted, motioning to the small, elfish ears either side of my face.

"Fine, then prove it." she said, walking into the room and watching my every move. I was good until it came to the bra. It was an eye-hook one, and she had to show me the easy way to clasp it. Slipping my breast forms into the cups, she handed me a pair of tight jeans. They were a bit loose on the hips and butt, but they were flat in front, and that's what I was aiming for. Pulling on a tight t-shirt with the Roxy logo across the chest, I sat at my dresser-top mirror, ready to apply the make-up. I did well for my first time, and only had trouble with the eye liner. Finally, I pulled the wig over my head, and Rachel helped me pin it in place.

 

Walking out to the kitchen, I noticed Mom was sipping coffee while reading the local newspaper. I went straight to the kitchen counter, slipping a few slices of bread into the toaster and pulling out the jar of jam.

"I wouldn't use jam on that toast if I were you." Mom mentioned from behind her paper.

"Why not?" I asked.

"You're wearing a white shirt, and if your clumsiness gets the best of you, as usual, you'll end up wearing it." she answered quickly, grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl in the center of the table.

"I'll be careful, I promise." I grumbled, dipping the knife into the jar. As Mom had predicted, I hadn't as soon as raised the knife from the jar when some of the jam was spilled on my shirt.

"Told you." she said.

"I really gotta start listening to you." I slipped in, walking back to my room and pulling on the Canada flag tank top. Now that I had breast forms, I had some very believable cleavage visible under my top.

 

When I returned to the kitchen, Rachel was sitting across from Mom in the good chair. The only wooden chair around the table that hadn’t been attacked by termites, burned by a lighter or covered in food residue.

"Do you mind if I take Nikki bathing suit shopping? It's the only thing I forgot yesterday." she chatted, taking small bites of her oatmeal.

"Sure! But if Nikki's going to be wearing a bathing suit, you'll need to pick up a bottle of surgical glue." Mom told her.

"Surgical glue? For what?" I asked.

"So your breast forms don't accidentally fall out of your suit, we'll have to glue them to your chest." Mom replied calmly.

"You mean,...I'm actually going to have breasts,...on my chest?" I questioned, shocked.

"Yes. You don't want to be discovered, do you?" Mom answered.

"Well, no, but I don't-"

"Come on Nikki. I bet you'd look simply gorgeous in a one-piece. We'll get you a bikini when you get your...ahem, other parts." Rachel cut me off.

"Fine. But I'm choosing the suit." I said firmly.

 

Finishing our breakfast, Rachel and I walked across town to the mall, Red Wood Forest. Stepping inside the door, I spotted my best friend, Jason Werber, by the skateboarding store.

"Um, Rachel, I'm kind of uncomfortable being here." I admitted.

"Don't worry, girl! You look fine." she assured me, looking me over. "Oh, you, uh, got a little smudge there on your lip." Wiping away the excess lipstick from my lip, we proceeded to a girl's clothing store called Serena's. They had everything a girl could possibly want: dresses, miniskirts, tops, jeans, bathing suits, lingerie. Pulling me to the changing rooms she handed me the first suit. It looked absolutely ghastly; a purple one-piece with a black stripe diagonally across the front and polka dots across the back.

"Definitely not!" I graded, still wearing my panties to hide my maleness from the real girls passing by.

"Okay, how about this one?" she asked, handing me a two piece with a skirt bottom in blue and yellow. It was nice, but it just didn't do anything for me. Suit after suit I was disappointed with either design or colour. I finally decided on a blue one-piece with red and white racing stripes. Figuring we were done, I headed to the check-out counter.

"Where are you going?" Rachel quizzed.

"To the check-out counter. Why, aren't we done?" I said.

"Of course we're not done. I still have to get my suit." she taunted wickedly. Another hour and a half and we finally checked our things through the cashier. Rachel paid for it and led me from the store. Jason caught sight of us and walked over.

"Damn it, not now!" I said under my breath.

 

Rachel smiled and looked over to me. She had obviously noticed I was nervous. He was my best friend, after all, and it's not exactly comforting to know you're not yourself in front of your friend.

"Hey Rach, how are you?" he asked cheerfully.

"I'm good." she replied.

"And who's this lovely girl with you?" he questioned, looking over to me.

"This is my um,...cousin, Nikki." Rachel answered, pausing and thinking.

"Well, Nikki, I uh,...hope to see you around more often." he told me. I blushed and Rachel giggled a bit.

"We gotta go. See ya, Jason." Rachel called as we walked out of the mall. Stopping off at a corner drug store, we bought a fairly large bottle of surgical glue, then headed home, bathing suits in hand.

 

Stepping in the front door of the house, Mom was waiting for us, and beckoned me to my bedroom with the surgical glue in hand. She had me take off my top and bra, then smeared the foul-smelling adhesive across my chest, placing the breast forms on top.

"I'll come back when they're dry." she told me, turning on some music and exiting. It was about a fifteen minute wait, then she told me I could sit up. I did, and felt the breast forms tug at my chest. It felt like I truly had breasts of my own.

"It's amazing!" I said.

"Hopefully tomorrow, your other equipment will arrive, and you can really be a girl." she squealed in delight. It was nice to have attached boobs to put in my bra cups. Still no feeling, but they looked better than ever. Now that the bra had breasts to lift, I had even more cleavage visible under my tank top.

"Look at you! You're practically glowing." Rachel stated, lightly fondling my new breasts playfully. Except for the close call with Jason, and my "initiation" into womanhood, it was an uneventful day. Feeling bored and drained, I fell into bed. It was strange to have my breasts in the way of everything I wanted to do. It was weird not being able to lay flat on my stomach in bed anymore.

 

The next day, I awoke to the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Peeking out through a gap in between the folds of the blind, I saw a UPS truck parked in front of the house. That could only mean one thing: my false girlhood had arrived. Rushing down the hall, my breasts bouncing with every step, I skidded to a halt at the door, behind my mother. She signed for the package, and then handed it to me. I literally tore the tape away, opening up the box and pulling out a pair of latex panties with built in vagina, padded hips and ass, and a feature where I could go to the bathroom without taking it off.

"Thank you so much, Mom." I cried, pulling off my panties and slipping into the latex pussy. I turned and walked into the bathroom, lifting my nightgown up and looking at my new vagina.

"I think you'll see it's indeed as realistic as you can get." she told me. "Go ahead and feel yourself." I reached down to my false slit and felt my finger push inside.

"You mean,...I could have sex with a boy if I really wanted to?" I coughed.

"I wouldn't recommend it,...but yes." my Mother replied.

"I'm a girl. I'm really a girl. Thank you so much, Mom." I bubbled, pulling a fresh pair of panties up over my flat, and now female crotch.

 

The rest of the week, and even the weekend seemed to fly past in a blur of clothes, paper, pens, pencils, binders, and notebooks. I had prepared my school supplies the night before, and wne to bed extra early so I could look great on my first day of 10th grade. The alarm went off at 6:15, and I quickly climbed out of bed and raced to the shower. Washing my body from head to toe, I spent extra time shaving my legs and burshed my teeth twice in a row, just to be safe. I pulled on fresh panties and a white, lacy bra, then pulled a clingy black mini skirt up my smooth legs. Wearing a white collared short-sleeve, I pinned the wig to my head and sprinted down the hall.

"What's the rush, Nikki? Jeez, you're gonna have a heart attack if you keep at this." Mom exclaimed, watching me wolf down toast and oatmeal, washing it all down with a cold glass of milk. I could barely sit still as I waited for the clock to chime 7:30. When It did, I jumped up and galloped out the door, doubling back after ealising I'd forgotten my knapsack. I power walked to the high school, only five blocks down from my house on Ellen Street, and went straight to the homeroom I was assigned: History.

 

I was surprised to see the girls outnumber the boys in the class, a sight uncommon to someone fresh out of middle school. I slipped into a stupor in History class, waking with the bell, and went to my next class, Math. Again I was bored out of my mind, but with a lot more work to do. Third on the docket was Science, finally a subject that was somewhat interesting. Or so I thought. We ended up spending the whole class debating whether natural substances are better than synthetic substances. Last was the class I had dreaded a few days ago, but was confident going to today; Phys. Ed.

"All right ladies. This is extreme dodge ball." our teacher, Mrs. Hendreson barked.

"What's so extreme about it?" a nerdy girl in front asked.

"The only rules are, you must stay outside the basketball out-of-bounds lines, you cannot block the ball with another ball, you can only dodge or catch. You are able to spend five seconds on the opposing side for extra points. The team with the most points at the end wins." she instructed, tossing soft volleyballs all across the gymnasium. The game was interrupted by an announcement by Rob, the Prime Minister of Student Council, and leader of the Drama Club.

"Pardon the interruption, but there is one extra announcement that was missed during lunch. The annual Spirit Dance will be held this Friday. Tickets are available outside the main office for $5 each. You must buy a ticket to get into the dance. For couples, there are two-ticket packages going for $3. That's all, thank you." A dance. I was sure I would be asked by a boy to go to the dance. I saw three or four of them eyeing me up in Science class. Perhaps that was why the fire alarm went off when I was working with Jordan.

 

Stripping from my clothes, I was too focused on my own thoughts to realize that I was a man (disguised as a sexy girl) in a locker room full of naked girls. I wasn't even phased when Veronica asked me if she could borrow my shampoo. It was on my way back to my locker that lightning struck. None other than Jason Werber walked up beside me, smiling slightly.

"So,...big dance on Friday." he said.

"Mm-hmm." was my answer.

"You going with anyone?" he asked.

"Not yet." I replied shyly.

"Would you like to go with me?" he questioned, turning and looking me right in the eyes.

"Well,...I-I, um..." I stammered. In my head I figured it couldn't hurt to go with him to the dance. We'd always gone together anyways when we were dateless. "Sure. Why not."

"Great I'll uh,...pick you up at 7:00?"

"Sounds good." I smiled, and he trotted off, nearly skipping as he waltzed down the corridor.

 

The walk home seemed to drag on forever. Not my first day as a girl and I already had my best friend hitting on me for dates and dances. Worst of all, if I declined last minute, he'd suspect something and I'd have to let him in on my secret. I was trapped.

"How was your day, honey?" Mom asked as I got in the door.

"Oh, just great. Fine. Perfect. Couldn't have been better." I said half-heartedly, dropping my knapsack on the floor and collapsing on my bed. I was too tired from equations and shots to the head in gym class that I couldn't really think about it too much.

"What's up with you?" Rachel quizzed, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Nothing, I'm fine." I shouted into the pillow.

"Nikki, I've known you for 15 years, I know when something's bugging you." she taunted. "So, are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to tickle you?"

"Fine, I'll talk." I cried, cringing as her fingers lightly caressed the back of my neck. If there's one thing I can't stand it's being tickled. "You know Jason Werber?"

"Yeah, so." she shrugged.

"My best friend in the whole wide world asked me to the dance,...as his date." I pressed. She lauhed out loud.

"Nice. Sick, but nice." she chuckled, gripping the edge of the bed so she didn't fall off.

"Rachel, it's not funny!" I exclaimed, shooing her away with my hands.

"Fine, it's not funny. But what are you going to do?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I've got to think of something. Anything." I replied.

 

Dinner was mulled over with light conversation. Every time the topic turned to school and eventually my day, I changed the topic purposefully. I think Mom was getting suspicious. Had Rachel told her what was going on?

"I know something's bugging you, Nikki. If you tell me what it is, you'll save me from rooting through your journal." Mom threatened.

"For the last time nothing is wrong." I said, a faux smile painted on my face.

"Mmm." was her response. She was like a detective with bat's blood as she hung around my room, or sat close to me in the living room. I felt like I had two shadows, only breaking free when it was bed time. Thank God she didn't ask to sleep in my room with me. The last thing I needed was Mom's advice on what I should do. I figured Rachel was help enough without Mom contradicting everything she said and driving confusion through my mind. I was startled as Rachel shook me from my sleep. It was really early, around 5:30 in the morning.

"I've got an idea to get Jason off your case." she whispered, beckoning me to follow her to her room.

"Don't tell Mom, but I'm going to go undercover to help you." she wheezed.

"Undercover, how....?" I asked slowly.

"I'm going to disguise myself as a boy to make Jason jealous. All we do is walk by in front of him, you say something about your old boyfriend from,....I dunno, make up a town name." she reeled off.

"Are you sure it'll work?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm positive." she smiled.

 

Her words still resounding in my head, I walked back to my room and started to get dressed, not bothering to notice that I had completely forgotten the fashion sense I was taught.

"Whoa! you need to change that combination, bad." Rachel told me. "Keep the jeans and the lacy white spaghetti strap, but try the brown v-neck long sleeve with it." she advised, pointing it out in my closet. Quickly following her advice, I brushed out the wig before I pinned it to my hair.

"So when do you plan on putting your,...ah...plan into action?" I asked, grabbing a fresh grapefruit from the fruit bowl on the table.

"Lunchtime today. I've got a friend helping me 'get ready' as soon as lunch starts. Meet me in the glass hallway around ten after." she said, turning and walking out the front door. I watched as she met another girl on the corner of the block, and then walked off towards the school. I noticed the girl had a fairly large duffle bag with her, no doubt it was the stuff Rachel was going to use in her plan.

 

The day went by fairly slow. The rainy weather had everyone sleepily and gloomily floating around in the halls. Everything seemed dull as ever, that is, until lunchtime rolled around. As told, I met Rach in the glass hallway. She looked more like a tomboy than a young man, but it was good enough to pass.

"So, where is your little 'boy toy', Nikki?" (s)he asked in a low, surly voice.

"He's probably in the weight room. By the way, what do I call you?" I guessed off the top of my head.

"Call me,....uh...Rick. All right, let's drop this hopeless puppy." (s)he chimed devilishly. So, we proceeded towards the gym, taking the crappy, war age hallway to the weight room, and spotting Jason at the weight curl station. "Hey, Nikki, watch me show up these wossies in here." 'Rick' taunted, shoving Jason out of the way. I thought that would be it, but something snapped in me at that moment.

"Stop it Rach...Rick!! Leave him alone!" I shouted as girlishly as I could keep it. She took a few steps closer and leaned in.

"What are you doing? You're ruining the plan." (s)he said through gritted teeth.

"I was wrong. He doesn't deserve this. He deserves a date with me at Friday's dance." I said, turning and running out of the room. I ran and ran until I found an empty corner under a stairwell. Why had I stopped her? Didn't I want to get Jason off my case? Wasn't it me who had found Jason's asking me out as an offense? I was too confused to come up with an answer, but I had to decide where I stood. There were only three days left until the dance, and I had to choose a side. Sitting under the stairs, I finally came to my decision. I would go with Jason to the dance as his date, but I wouldn't let him kiss me at all.

 

The rest of the week I tried my best to keep from Jason's sights, and succeeded. As arranged, I met him in the main hall and he escorted me into the gymnasium. It wasn't very populated inside, only a few couples and some singles dancing to light music. It didn't get busy at all until late in the dance, around 9:30. I had already slow-danced twice with Jason, and was beginning to lose my anxieties. Everything was fine,...that is until he walked me home. I had to think of an excuse as to why we stopped at:

"Nick and Rachel's house?"

"Didn't I tell you? I'm only in town for two weeks. I'm just here on a business trip with my dad." I lied, shrugging slightly.

"Well,....I had a great night anyway." he said, his face falling a bit. "Good night." he started down the driveway slowly. Something triggered me, and before I knew what was happening, I grabbed him by the arm, turned him around and kissed him.

"Something to remember me by." I cooed. "Toodles." I spun and walked in the front door, calm as ever, until I realized what I had done. I had just crossed the line between Nick, and Nikki. I winced and rushed up to my room, flinging myself onto my bed, letting the ters that ran my make-up fall from my eyes. I was so confused. did I want to be Nikki, or did I want to be myself again? I wasn't sure after my first week in public as Nikki.

 

My second, and possibly last week as Nikki went faster than I wanted it to. I hadn't seen Jason since the dance, and I kind of missed him. On Friday I awoke to a grim truth etched in my mind: that night I would have to choose whether I wanted to remain as Nikki, and have the surgery done to truly become her, or I could give up my female persona and live as God intended, as Nick. School went by in flashes, and when I stepped through the front door, Mom was standing there waiting for me.

"Well, Nikki, today's the day. You've had two weeks to think about it, and you should have reached a decision by now." she squawked, brandishing a spatula.

"I-I,....I want to,....u-um.....I......" I searched for what I felt was right. I thought of my date with Jason, and how he had smiled at me after I kissed him. I thought of how I stuck up for him, and how I realized I loved him. "I want to,...remain......as Nikki." I finished.

"Is that your final answer?" Mom questioned. "I want to be sure you'll stick to it if you say it."

"Yes, definitely my final answer." I nodded.

"Very well, then." Mom told me, returning to making dinner.

 

It has been a fair few years since that incident. I'm 24 years old now, and happily married to Jason Werber. We've been living together in the heart of London for almost two years with our beautiful son James. He shows no signs of being like me,...yet. If he does though, I promise to handle it with better kindness than my Mother and sister, who still share an apartment in Medicine Hat, working full time at the restaurant. Of course this is not the only story of my teen-hood. I remember the time when,....ah, but that's another story, to be told at another time.

  

  

  

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