Contest And Consequence

by Sarah Bayen

Part Nine - Betrayal

 

I woke the next morning with the sun shining through the window. I lay there with my eyes shut for some time, gathering my thoughts and my soul together. Opening them at last, I saw that Anita was already up, over by the wardrobe sorting herself out some clothes. She noticed that I was awake.

"Hello sleepy head," she said brightly, with a smile. "I thought I'd leave you for a while. Did you have a good night?"

I blinked my eyes to try and clear my mind even further, and remember what had happened. Anita stood across the room still smiling at me, and completely naked.

"Yes," I managed to whisper hoarsely, as I lifted myself up onto one arm. "What time is it?"

"It's half past ten," she said, picking herself out some clothes from the open wardrobe. "We had a bit of a lie in."

I sat myself up, and was surprised for a moment to see that I was wearing a flimsy pink nylon thing. Then I remembered the end of the evening. I was a slag, so I had to wear slag sleepwear, or something like that. It had ridden up considerably in the night, and I pulled it down over my stomach to retain some sense of decency.

"I suppose we won't be playing tennis this week then?" I asked.

"No," Anita replied laughing lightly, and slipping into a pair of knickers. "It's a bit late for that. My Dad's gone down there though. Don't worry, there's always next week."

Half ten, I thought to myself; that was late, even for me, to be getting up on a Sunday. Our late night cavorting must have gone on longer than I had thought, although the memory of it was still fresh in my mind.

I looked up at Anita, now putting on a plain white bra. With the sun shining on her she looked more beautiful than ever, especially after what had happened last night. The words of an old Kiki Dee song that my Dad liked came into my head – I wish my first love could be my last.

"Come on Sarah if you're getting up," Anita said encouragingly. "We don't want to waste the whole day in bed do we?"

I nodded in acknowledgement, and pulled the sleeping bag down. I noticed, as did she, that although I was still wearing the nightie, my knickers had come adrift in the night, and I was showing everything.

"You'd best get something on," Anita said, looking down at me with a grin on her face. "I think even my Mum and Dad might notice you're not really a girl at the moment."

I stood up, and went quickly over to my bag of clothes. I bent over to look in, to see if I could quickly find myself a pair of knickers to cover my embarrassment. I was shocked when I felt a hand on my buttocks, and jumped up.

"Hey," Anita said. "No need to be like that, you seemed happy enough with me touching you last night."

"Yes," I replied. "Sorry, you just startled me."

I turned to face her, and we stood close, and looked into each other's eyes, with smiles splitting our faces.

"Come on my girl," she said, breaking away from me. "Get your knickers on!"

With some reluctance that we hadn't kissed, I picked out a pair from the pack she had given me before, and looked at them. They were white, and picked out in pink, with a picture of a cartoon girl on the front with her skirt blowing in the wind, and the logo 'Naughty Girl' on them. After the previous night's activities, I thought this was quite appropriate, and put them on.

Turning around, I saw that Anita was slipping herself into a tight pair of jeans. I grabbed the hem of the flimsy nightie, and pulled it off over my head.

"That suited you," she commented, watching me. "I always thought it looked a bit silly on me, but you looked really sweet in it."

I looked at the frilly thing lying on the floor next to me. If Anita liked me in it, and was happy to do to me what she did the night before again, then I'd happily wear it every night.

Anita had turned around to look in the wardrobe for a top. I still had my bra on from the night before, so I looked in my bag for something to put over it. I found a pink sweater that Sue had given to me on Friday night, and decided to wear that.

"Very nice," Anita complimented me. "Where did you get it?"

"Sue gave it to me," I replied.

"Well it suits you. Pink's your colour, no doubt about that."

Anita put on a plain white T-shirt, while I sorted myself out a pair of tights, and sat down on the bed to put them on. She went over to the mirror to brush her lovely blonde hair through. I slipped a second pair of knickers on top of my tights, and one of my short slips, before putting on the denim mini-skirt, which for casual wear, was fast becoming my favourite.

Anita was looking at me when I had finished. "Do you know," she said, looking thoughtful. "I think you might be right."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Your bum," she went on. "I think it is getting bigger."

My mouth fell open in horror, and I quickly went across to the mirror to look. Studying it carefully, it took me a while to realise that she was laughing.

"I was only teasing you!" she said, and came across to hug me. "God you're just so sensitive about it aren't you?"

I was too lost in the loveliness of the hug to conjure up a reply. "Come on then. Do you feel 'Sarah' enough to come and have some breakfast?"

I nodded in reply, and we went downstairs. Anita's Mum asked us how the night had gone, and Anita told her an abridged version of the events, which seemed to be received well enough. We poured ourselves some cereals and sat down at the breakfast table. There were a couple of magazines there, and Anita offered me one to read.

Feeling really happy, I glanced through it, seeing a few dresses that looked okay. My eye was suddenly caught by one article, however. It was a diet guide to how to make your bum and thighs thinner. I immediately began to read this avidly, making mental notes of all the foods I needed to avoid from now on.

"Are you staying for lunch Sarah?" Anita's Mum asked me.

"I don't know," I replied, looking across the table to Anita for guidance.

"Well you're welcome if you want to," she went on. "Unless you need to get back home."

"Stay!" said Anita at last, looking across the table at me with her blue eyes. "That is, unless you want to go back home earlier."

"No. I'll stay if it's not too much trouble." I said.

Suddenly I remembered another appointment I had made; to see Liz that evening at seven. What was I going to say to her, now that Anita and I were lovers? Blushing, I returned my attention to the magazine article.

We spent a really pleasant late morning reading and chatting. After a while, we moved into the living room, and listened to some of Anita's records. She told me how much she fancied one artist in particular, which upset me a little, but she didn't seem to think anything of it. She asked me which singer I fancied most, but I couldn't really reply. The only thought in the romantic part of my mind at that time was for her.

Her Mum brought us in some cheese sandwiches at about twelve. I was mortified. Having read the magazine article that morning, I had resolved to give up both bread and cheese for the sake of my bum. The article had had a long section about cellulite, which had alarmed me, and I had decided to check my thighs carefully next time I went to the loo.

The conversation that shattered the peace began innocently enough.

"What are you doing this afternoon?" Anita asked me, between mouthfuls.

I looked at her questioningly. I had assumed we were going to spend the day together, and the only doubt in my mind had been how I was going to excuse myself in time to get back home to see Liz.

"I don't know." I replied eventually. "What do you fancy doing?"

"Me?" she said, with a note of astonishment in her voice. "Well, John's coming round for me at about half one. We're going off for a drive."

My heart sank like a stone within me. John, the bane of my life. I had assumed our night of passion would have banished him forever, but as Anita munched another mouthful of sandwich while reading the cover of an album she was playing, it dawned on me with a cold, steely reality that this was not so.

"So what have you got planned?" she asked again, without looking up.

I felt my bottom lip begin to tremble. Like so many before me, I had assumed that giving up the gift of my virginity would earn me love and respect in the morning. The news about John made me feel as if I was to be cast away like an old slipper.

"I don't know," I managed to say eventually.

She looked up, and concern suddenly came into her face. "What's the matter?" she asked.

"Nothing," I replied, trying desperately for something to look at, so she wouldn't see the tears forming in my eyes.

"You didn't think that ……….." she began, as she studied me from across the room. She stopped, and her lips clasped together. "You did didn't you?"

I shrugged, and turned away to look out of the window.

"Oh Sarah, I told you on Monday how I felt. We agreed that we'd just carry on being friends!"

I made no reply.

"I mean we had fun last night, and we can do it again if you want," she continued. "But it doesn't mean anything."

A tear fell from my eye, and I angrily wiped it away with my pink sleeve.

"Well not much anyway," she corrected herself, assuming her last remark had upset me the most.

"I know that," I said bitterly. "It's all right. I'm just a bit tired today."

"Is it your time of the month then?" she asked, and then suddenly put her hand across her mouth. "Oh gosh no! I suppose it couldn't be!"

I looked across at her. There seemed to be no sarcasm in her face, she had genuinely forgotten that I was a boy. "Hardly," I replied.

"So what are you going to do this afternoon?" she said, returning to her original enquiry.

I thought about it. "Well, I might as well get myself back off home I suppose. I'll need somewhere to get changed first though."

"You could go around to Nikki's if you want. They'll be pleased to see you. Or to Sue's. You got on well with her parents didn't you?"

Still looking out of the window, I nodded, while a different plan formed in my mind.

"I don't want to hurry you," she went on, "but with John coming around in an hour or so, you'd best make up your mind. You can stay here if you want. I'll probably be home for six or thereabouts."

The plan forced itself forward into a resolve. "Do you mind if I make a phone call first?" I asked, turning to face her, with determination replacing anguish on my face.

"Sure," she said. "Who are you going to call?"

"Just a friend." I replied.

I went back up to the bedroom, and retrieved my shoulder bag. I found the telephone number I wanted in there, and went back down to the hall to make my call. Feeling nervous, although triumphant in my sense of revenge, I rejoined Anita in the living room.
"Everything all right?" she asked.

"Sure," I replied. "My friend's coming over to pick me up here if that's all right."

"Of course," Anita replied, looking a bit perplexed. "Who is it?"

"It's a surprise," I responded. "I'll just go and get my stuff together so I'm all ready to go."

I went back up to the bedroom, and picked up my clothes bag. I slipped on my black boots, and hooked my shoulder bag over my arm. What had I done? I began to have second thoughts. This was hardly a mature way of resolving my differences with Anita, but I remembered the blasι way she had told me that last night meant nothing, and the sweet taste of revenge came back to me, and I smiled.

I went to the toilet, and then back downstairs with my bags, and put them carefully by the door, before going back into the living room. Anita was still listening to her records, and singing away to herself.

"I just love him, don't you?" she said, with enthusiasm, holding up a picture of a spotty youth dressed in black, who I assumed was the singer on the record. "They played one of his tracks last night. His music always puts me in a sexy mood!"

I smiled at her, although my heart was breaking, and took up post by the window for my 'friend' to arrive. Like any watched pot, this one took what seemed ages to boil.

At last I saw her, standing a little nervously outside Anita's gate, and hesitating to come in. Pluck up courage, I silently encouraged her, and her hand slid over the gate to undo the latch, and walk up the path. She wasn't alone, however, two figures I recognised stood outside by the gate. I hadn't anticipated that.

Then the doorbell rang. "That'll be your friend," Anita said brightly, jumping up. "I'm going to see who it is, since you're being so mysterious."

She ran through into the hall, while I followed at a more leisurely pace, getting there just in time to see her open the door.

"You!" she exclaimed, seeing the figure in the doorway.

"Hi Anita," Chrissie said. "I've come to take your boyfriend. Is he ready yet?"

Anita turned to me open-mouthed, and with horror in her eyes.

"I'm ready," I said, picking up my bags. "See you at school Anita, bye!"

I pushed my way past her, and through the door.

"Christ, what are you wearing?" Chrissie exclaimed.

"Come on, let's get going," I said, as brightly as I could for Anita's benefit. Discussion of why I was dressed as a girl on a Sunday lunchtime could wait until we were out of earshot. I took Chrissie's arm, and walked down the path without a backward glance to the gate, where Jacquie and a sullen looking Janet waited, with crossed arms.

Jacquie opened the gate for us to pass through, and then we strolled along the pavement, Chrissie and I in front, and Jacquie and Janet following on behind.

After a few yards Chrissie stopped, and turned to face her friends.

"Did you see her face? It was brilliant! I was sure she was going to bawl, and then she slammed the door!"

"Yeah it was good!" Jacquie responded.

I was already beginning to doubt the wisdom of what I had done. There was no way Anita was ever going to forgive me for this, and now I was stuck dressed as a girl with these three. Chrissie was bordering on insane at the best of times, and I remembered from last night that Janet had promised to get me back for not making a foursome with her.

I looked at her surreptitiously, wondering what she was thinking. She was looking at me too, but turned her head away as my eyes met hers. She no longer had her unibrow. Instead, across the top of her nose was an angry red patch where she had obviously taken my advice, and plucked. There was something else she would want to get me for.

Chrissie turned back to me. "Well, I didn't expect you to turn against Anita. I thought you were her little puppy."

"Little puppy, what do you mean?" I asked forlornly.

"You know, always following her around, and doing exactly what she says."

"Yeah," agreed Jacquie. "Like dressing up as a girl at the time. Why exactly are you dressed like that now? Was it her idea?"

"They went out last night for a girls' night out," Janet said, before I could speak. "Maybe he just couldn't be bothered to change back into a boy."

She didn't sound particularly vengeful, but there was a mournful tone to her voice that worried me. Chrissie looked at me quizzically, as if I might offer some clarification, but I didn't.

"Well," she said at length. "What is it that you want to do then Steve? Or should I say Sarah?" She and Jacquie laughed evilly at this, as if it was a new joke.

"I just want to take these clothes off and get back home," I replied, hoping that even in their minds, one good turn would deserve another.

Chrissie looked at me, and smiled. "Well I think we might be able to help there, don't you girls?"

"Yeah," responded Jacquie with enthusiasm. Janet was silent. "We can help you take off your clothes."

"And I know just the place you can do it," Chrissie went on. "Come with us."

She took my arm again, and marched me up the street. "Janet," she barked. "Take his bag off him. Come on, be the gentleman!"

I tried to protest. The bag contained my clothes; my route back to being a boy, but Janet snatched it off me, and we continued to walk through the town.

They took me off to the recreation field, which was really a large park, with three or four football pitches marked out on it, a couple of tennis courts, and a small area with swings and slides for the smaller children. We entered at the top end, furthest from the centres of activity. I glanced around; the small children's area was busy enough, with five or six mothers with their offspring, but the rest of the park was disturbingly empty.

Right across the field was a really run down white prefabricated building, that laughably went by the name of the changing hut, although it had not been used for that purpose for some time. If it had any purpose, it was to provide some shelter during the day for kids who wanted to smoke, and at night for those who wanted to indulge in other things. I noticed with dismay that that was exactly where Chrissie and her gang were leading me.

Why on earth had I decided to bring her in on this, I asked myself? It was just a moment of pique, a stupid idea to revenge myself on Anita, and now I was paying the price. Not only had I lost the friendship of my first love, I now needed some way of extricating myself from Chrissie and her henchwomen.

We walked around to the back of the disused building. Between it and the trees that surrounded this part of the field was a thin strip of freshly mown grass, the scent of which filled my nostrils as we got there. I looked around. The trees were on a slight upward slope, and the hut hid us from view from the field. No wonder this was such a popular venue for the rougher pursuits of the town's youth.

Chrissie let go of my arm, and stood in front of me, Jacquie at her side. Janet stood further off, still holding my bag, and looking furtively in every direction except at me. If she intended some act of revenge, she obviously didn't want to be interrupted in it.

"So are you going to take your clothes off now?" Chrissie asked me, moving even closer. "We'd be glad to help, wouldn't we?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Yeah," Jacquie agreed with unnecessary enthusiasm, leering at me by the side of her leader.

I swallowed my fear. "Yes, well I will," I began. "But I'd rather you went away before I did."

Chrissie smiled at me, and tilted her head to one side. "So you're shy as well are you? Well I don't know about that. I was thinking we ought to stay here to watch."

"Yeah," agreed Jacquie. Janet still had her back to us, and put the bag down, and began muttering to herself inaudibly.

"Come on then," Chrissie went on. "Get them off then!"

I returned her stare. "No," I said. "Not until you're out of sight."

She hesitated for a moment, and then started to slowly pace forward. I stepped back, and soon found myself backed against the wall. "I'm not sure you're as shy as you make out," she said, inches from my face. "I think you don't want to take your clothes off because you like wearing girl's clothes. What do you think Jacquie?"

"I think you're right," the larger girl replied, standing on the toe of my boot. "I think he must do, to be wearing them now. The contest was three days ago."

"That's right," Chrissie agreed. "Three days ago. Have you been wearing girl's clothes ever since?"

"No of course not," I replied, but with a sudden, horrible realisation, I remembered that I had. Not since early Thursday morning had I worn a stitch of what might be called male clothing, and now it was Sunday afternoon.

"I bet you have!" Chrissie continued triumphantly, obviously noticing the doubt on my face. "You've let Anita dress you as a girl for three whole days."

"Nearly four!" Jacquie added, showing the limits of her mathematical prowess.

I could feel the hard concrete of the hut wall on my back, and saw my pretend breasts bobbing up and down pathetically between the two girls and me. I was acutely aware of the shortness of my denim skirt pulled tight across my thighs, and I knew that my eyes must be giving away the fear I was feeling.

Chrissie seemed to feed on this fear. She put her hand up, and I flinched, expecting her to punch me. Instead, she just gently stroked the hair of my wig. "Poor little Sarah!" she said, in a voice dripping with venom. "Hold his arms for a minute!"

Jacquie pulled me away from the wall, and pulled my arms behind my back, and held them firmly, turning me to face Chrissie again.

"So why exactly are you still dressed as a girl?" she asked, grabbing at my breasts, and kneading them in her hands.

"It was an accident." I mumbled.

She looked at me for a moment, and then laughed. "An accident? You accidentally got yourself dressed as a girl did you? What sort of accident was that? Didn't you notice that it was a skirt you were putting on or something?"

I couldn't look at her. This was too horrible. But there was also something in my mind telling me that I deserved this. I had called Chrissie, and invited her to pick me up from Anita's house. It was my fault. And above all else, Anita was right, I was a slag. I had eagerly let her have sex with me the night before, even though I had already started dating Liz. I was a slag, and now Chrissie was going to treat me as one.

"He's not saying much," Jacquie observed.

"No," Chrissie agreed. "That's because we know his little secret. He enjoys dressing as a girt. He's doing it to see what being a girl is really like, that's what this is all about, isn't it, little Sarah?"

"No," I managed to reply.

"Oh I think it is!" Chrissie said, triumphantly. "You want to know what it feels like to be a girl; to be Anita I should think."

"Yeah," agreed Jacquie.

"Well I think we may be able to help him with that, don't you?"

"Yes we could!" Jacquie agreed, grinning wildly at me.

"Yes," Chrissie continued, with icy tones coming into her voice. "Let's see. Let's imagine that he's a girl, and we're three big strong boys, shall we do that?"

"Yes let's," Jacquie said, as she pulled my arms even tighter behind my back.

"Is that okay with you Sarah?" Chrissie asked me.

"No." My voice came out as a high-pitched whisper, and sensing and feeding on my fear, Chrissie became even more animated.

"Oh I think it is okay with you," she continued. "It's going to have to be." She went back to stroking my hair with exaggerated gentleness. "Now let's think. What do you think three big strong boys would do to a pretty girl round the back of the changing huts? Any ideas Jacquie?"

"I think they'd give her a good seeing to!" Jacquie announced with glee, her eyes sparkling.

"Do you think so?" Chrissie asked.

"Yeah, that's exactly what they'd do!"

Chrissie tilted her head to one side to consider this. "You might be right," she conceded eventually. "Especially when the girl had already said she wanted to take off her clothes."

"Yeah," Jacquie agreed. "That would make it worse!"

"Worse for her anyway," Chrissie qualified, and smiled at me, before shaking her head. "I don't know Sarah," she said, with mock sympathy. "You've not been trained in being a girl as well as I might have hoped."

"No," agreed Jacquie.

"You should never tell boys you're going to take your clothes off."

"That's right," Jacquie agreed enthusiastically.

"Or let them take you off to a secluded spot like this."

"I'll try and remember that," I managed to bleat.

"Oh you will remember, we'll make sure of that," Chrissie said, and thrust her hand up my skirt, making me whimper in shock. A broad grin broke out on her face. "He's wearing girl's knickers," she announced. "I can feel the frills around the edges."

I closed my eyes, feeling Chrissie's hand rummaging around between my legs. I deserved this, I told myself. I had been acting like a real slut, and now I was paying the price.

"What should we do to teach him a lesson?" Jacquie asked from behind me.

"Well I don't know. We ought to make sure whatever it is, it teaches Robinson a lesson too!" Chrissie replied, her fingers slipping under my outer pair of knickers, and thrusting into me.

"I know!" Jacquie suddenly announced. "We could write 'Chrissie was here' on his willy! Then when Anita tried to shag him, she'd see it and know you were there first!"

Chrissie's hand moved around to feel the item in question. "Good idea," she conceded, feeling me underneath my tights and knickers. "But it won't work."

"Why not?" Jacquie asked, with a note of disappointment.

"He's far too small!" Chrissie announced. "We'd never even get my name written on it."

"Oh," grumbled Jacquie. "That's a pity."

"Yes," drawled Chrissie, still fumbling at me, as I waited for her to cause me some pain. "But there may be something we could do," she went on. "Why don't we write what you suggested on his pretty little thighs?"

"We'd have to pull his tights down," Jacquie observed.

"Yes," Chrissie replied, stroking me where she thought she might write her name. "But just think, every time that Robinson bitch flipped up his skirt to get to him, she'd see it! That would be fabulous."

"Yeah," agreed Jacquie. "Let's do it!"

"Have you still got that marker pen we used on the dress?" Chrissie asked.

"I think Janet's got it," Jacquie replied. "Janet, give us that marker pen will you?"

There was no reply. I opened my eyes. Perhaps Janet had wandered off.

"Come on Janet!" Jacquie said, a little louder. "I can't let go of his arms, in case he tries to run off!"

Chrissie turned her head to see what her other henchwoman was up to, and to my relief, her hand came out from under my skirt. "What's the matter with you?" she demanded, "Come on, we need that pen!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Janet moving slowly and awkwardly towards us from her position as sentry. "This has gone far enough," she said. "Leave her alone."

Chrissie turned to face her. "What did you say?" she asked, incredulous at this display of independence.

"I said, leave her alone," Janet repeated, with a hint of menace in her voice.

Chrissie stared at her long and hard. "What do you mean 'she'?" she asked. "This is not a 'she', it's a boy dressed as a girl, thicko!"

"I'm not a thicko," Janet grumbled, looking down at the mown grass between them.

"You are!" Chrissie went on. "You can't tell the difference between boys and girls. You were the same last weekend with Peter. You kept thinking he was a real girl."

"No I didn't," Janet responded lamely.

"You did!" Chrissie went on. "You kept being nice to him, like you're trying to be to this one!"

Janet looked even more uncomfortable, and shuffled from foot to foot. "Whatever," she responded eventually. "But leave her alone now, she's had enough."

Chrissie walked across to her, and stood in front of her, dwarfed by Janet's large frame. "Listen," she said. "I'm going to say this just once more, so try and get it into your thick skull. He is not a girl!"

Janet looked up mournfully, and stared back at Chrissie. "He's more of a girl than you'll ever be, and a better friend."

Chrissie's mouth opened in surprise, and she stared first at Janet, and then at Jacquie, who was still holding my arms behind my back. She turned back to Janet. "So that's it is it?" she demanded. "I see what this is all about. You fancy him, don't you?"

"No," Janet protested.

"You do!" Chrissie snapped. "And it's because he's dressed as a girl. That's why you were all gooey over Peter as well!"

Behind me, Jacquie laughed hollowly at her friend's embarrassment.

"No I wasn't. It's just that Sarah's a good friend to me," Janet went on awkwardly, "And I won't let you hurt her."

Chrissie again look incredulous at this statement. "A good friend is she? Better than I am? Well that's a fine thing to say after all I've done for you!"

Janet held her head up, and looked down at Chrissie, with a steely determination coming over her face. "You've never done nothing for me!" she snarled. "Except take the mickey, and make me look stupid."

"You don't need me to make you look stupid," Chrissie retorted. "You do that perfectly well on your own."

Sensing trouble, Jacquie let go of my arms, and walked in front of me. I felt myself collapse back against the wall as my legs turned to jelly. Chrissie, sensing the same thing, also backed away a little, allowing Jacquie to come between her and Janet.

"I've got no argument with you Jacquie," Janet went on, "But I'm not going to let either of you hurt Sarah."

They squared up to each other, and Jacquie cast a sideways glance at Chrissie for guidance. "She's gone mad, because of her fetish for boys in skirts," she said. "Give her a slap to bring her back to her senses."

"No don't!" I heard myself shout, but it was too late. Jacquie took a wild swing at Janet, which she sidestepped, before returning an almighty blow to the side of the other girl's head. Jacquie staggered for a moment, and then, recovering, leapt forward to try and grab Janet's face. Janet, with some expertise, sidestepped this as well, and punched forward into Jacquie's stomach. Jacquie grunted, and fell to her knees.

"Get up you idiot!" yelled Chrissie. "Get up and give her a pasting!"

I struggled, and lifted myself away from the wall. "Stop it!" I yelled. "This is ridiculous!"

Jacquie slowly dragged herself to her feet, and the two girls faced up to each other again, glaring madly at each other.

I walked across to Chrissie. "Make them stop!" I demanded of her. "One of them is bound to get hurt."

She turned to me and sneered. "I don't care about that. I've often wondered which one of them would win a fight. Now we can wait and see!"

Janet and Jacquie stood immobile, sizing each other up. Holding my breath, I stepped forward, and stood between them, terrified by their size, and by the smell of their aggression.

"This is silly!" I shouted. "You're supposed to be friends." I stared first at one, and then the other, demanding some sort of response.

"She was going to hurt you," Janet grumbled at me, her fists lowering slightly.

"Only because Chrissie told her to," I responded. "It's not her fault, it's Chrissie who's off her trolley."

"That's rich coming from a boy who's been dressed as a girl for four days," came a mocking voice from behind me.

"She can dress however she likes," Janet snarled over my head at Chrissie.

"Now let's just see how to work this out," I went on, warming to my role as peacemaker.

"I'm not going to let you hurt her!" Janet insisted, staring across me to Jacquie.

"All right," Jacquie responded at length. "I won't."

"Don't be such a fairy!" Chrissie screamed from her safe distance. "Give them both a slap!"

Jacquie glared at Janet for a moment, and her eyes flared. "No," she said at last. "I won't."

"Good," I said, and smiled encouragingly. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Jacquie backed away towards Chrissie.

"Oh for God's sake," she screamed. "What's the matter with you two? We were only having a bit of fun!"

"Sarah wasn't having much fun." Janet pointed out, fixing her stare on her former leader, who was incandescent with rage.

"You'll pay for this, both of you!" she screamed again. "And you!" she added, adding an impotent punch on Jacquie's arm. "The least you could do is nick his bag, so he has to go home dressed like that!" she added.

Out of habit, Jacquie began to move forward.

"You touch his bag, and I'll break your arm!" Janet said, threateningly. Jacquie immediately stopped, and Chrissie began to jump up and down, pounding her fists into the air.

We stood there for what seemed an hour, in two pairs, facing each other. In the end, Chrissie turned to walk away. "You'll regret this Sarah Sweetheart, and you too Janet. I'm telling everyone at school how one of you dresses as a girl in his spare time, and how the other one gets turned on by it!" With this, she stormed off around the corner of the changing hut, with Jacquie following on, rather more reluctantly than before. I waited until they were entirely out of sight, and then burst into tears.

I felt Janet's hands on my shoulders, and, despite myself, I let my head fall against her chest as I sobbed like a baby. I felt entirely washed out by what had happened. I had woken up so happy after my night with Anita, and somehow, it had all gone wrong, so wrong. I knew it was my own fault; apart from being so stupid as to use Chrissie to get back at Anita, I had behaved entirely like a tart, leading on first Liz, and then Anita herself. No wonder Chrissie felt so justified sticking her hand up my skirt, I had almost invited her to by telling her to come and get me from Anita's house.

"It's all right," I heard Janet mumbling, obviously as embarrassed as I was by my display. I couldn't stop myself however; the tears just kept flowing. As I shook against Janet, I could still feel the memory of Chrissie's hand between my thighs. I had felt so powerful in my little red dress the night before; now I only felt vulnerable in a skirt, and vowed to myself never to wear one again.

Gradually my sobs began to ease off, and I slowly regained control of myself. I held on to Janet for a while longer, not because I had to, but just for the reassuring feeling of strength and protection. Eventually I pulled my head away, and gently pushed her hands off me.

"Thanks," I muttered.

"It's all right," she replied. "I wasn't going to let them hurt you."

I found my shoulder bag, and rummaged around in it for a tissue, and wiped my eyes and blew my nose. Composing myself, I turned to face Janet again, who was standing still, looking at me with genuine concern.

"I thought you hated me after last night," I said, realising immediately that this sounded rather pitiful.

She looked away, with chagrin written across her reddened brow. "No," she said quietly. "I was cross for a while, but it's all right now."

"I'm sorry Pete dumped you," I went on, after an awkward silence.

"It's all right," she replied. "He was a creep anyway. I'm better off without him."

I looked at her, and saw the pain of rejection in her eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't stay with Dave as well, to help you out." I went on. "But he wasn't really my type."

She looked at me and smiled. "No, I suppose he wasn't." I returned her smile, and saw that we were friends again. She looked down at her feet again, and I waited for her to speak. "Did you want," she hesitated with embarrassment before continuing. "to get changed then? I'll walk around to the other side of the hut, and make sure no-one comes."

I looked at her and thought about this suggestion. Taking all my clothes off in the open air really didn't seem a very attractive option at that point, even with nobody watching. "Well," I began, "Would you mind awfully if we went round to your house to do it? I won't stay long."

She looked back at me. "You can stay as long as you like," she said, with genuine enthusiasm. "Come on, I'll take your bag." I held out my shoulder bag for her. "Not that one!" she said, flustered. "I meant the big one. I'll take that, and show you the way."

She led me out of the park on the opposite side to the one we had entered it from, into the less well off side of town. This was a large council estate, with rows and rows of small identical houses. This was a rough neighbourhood, and I cursed myself for feeling glad that I was there under the protection of Janet. I felt sure that whatever happened, she would be able to look after herself.

We arrived at her house; a grey affair made out of breezeblocks without any attempt at covering or decoration. We walked through the broken gate, and up through the overgrown garden to the unlocked front door. I was immediately struck by the smell of frying, coming from a small kitchen off to the right.

"Hi Mum, I'm home." Janet bellowed.

A woman who looked like a version of Janet only thirty years older came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her plain blue apron. She stared at me suspiciously, and I felt myself blushing.

"This is Sarah," Janet told her, by way of introduction.

The suspicious glare continued, and then was replaced by a look of recognition. "Oh yes, the boy who likes to dress as a girl!" she exclaimed. "I'm pleased to meet you!"

She held her hand out for me to shake, and I took it. She had warm, sweaty palms, and a firm grasp.

"I don't really like dressing like this," I tried to explain, but she took no notice.

"My uncle Billy used to like dressing as a girl," she said conversationally. "He did it all the time, even got arrested for it once or twice." She looked at me again, appraising my appearance. "He wasn't as good at it as you though."

"You never told me that about Uncle Billy before!" Janet said, accusingly.

"It never seemed appropriate," her mother went on. "Anyway, people weren't so calm about that sort of thing in those days. He had a terrible time; he hung himself in the end. Pity, he was my favourite uncle."

There seemed very little that could be said in response to this. Eventually Janet, of all people, broke the deadlock. "Well I don't think Sarah's going to hang herself. She just wants somewhere to get changed back into some boy's stuff before going home."

The older woman looked at me again. "Pity," she said. "You look good as a girl. Maybe you could teach our Janet a thing or two; she's always been a bit of a Tomboy."

"Mum!" Janet protested. "Anyway, it was Sarah who helped me pick out that dress yesterday."

"Really?" her mother said, looking at me with renewed interest. "Well, you've got good taste. I've never seen our Janet looking so feminine."

"And you won't ever see me like that again!" Janet said, with bitter determination.

"Now now, never say never," her mother went on. "Show Sarah up to your room, so she can change herself. Will you want anything to eat?"

"No," I responded. "I've already eaten thanks."

"Well all right then," she said, "I'll see you later!" And with this she bustled back to the kitchen.

Janet showed me up the stairs to the narrow hallway at the top, and then opened a flimsy plywood door to a box like room that was incredibly untidy, and to be frank, smelt a little.

"This is my room," she said, throwing my bag down onto the bed. "You can get changed here."

"Thanks Janet," I said, smiling at her. "Thanks for everything."

She looked a little awkward, and turned to walk out the door.

"And I am sorry about last night," I added, as an afterthought.

"It's all right," she said, pausing in the doorway. "Like I said, Pete was a creep. Anyway, I've decided I fancy someone else now. I need to talk to you about it before you go."

She stared at me, and I bit my lip. "Okay then," I said, "I'll see you when I've changed. She shut the door, and I cursed my luck again. This was terrible. Now Janet had a crush on me, and she was going to ask me out. I sat down on the bed, or rather, on a pile of Janet's clothes that covered the bed. What was I to do? I was stuck in the house of a great lumbering fool of a girl. Much as I loved her for what she had saved me from, there was no way I wanted to enter into a relationship with her.

And she could be so aggressive if she didn't get her own way; I had seen that last night when she had torn into me for not being all sweet with Dave so she could get off with Pete. I would need to be really careful about how I turned her down.

I took off my wig, and began to undress. This really did serve me right, I thought to myself. Not only had I been a right slag with Liz and Anita, I had led Janet right up the garden path by sobbing on her shoulder after escaping from Chrissie and Jacquie. No wonder she felt entitled to ask me out, I thought. I was lucky that she was even bothering to ask; from the way I had behaved she might as well have simply snogged me on the spot behind the changing hut. Chrissie was right; I was utterly rubbish at being a girl.

 

I found my boy clothes, and sorted them out. Damn, I thought, I had forgotten to bring any boy's underpants! Still, it didn't really matter that much, I could keep my knickers on, and nobody would see what was under my jeans. Slipping on my trainers last of all, I gathered up my skirt and other girl stuff, and put it carefully back in the bag. Even if I was never going to wear a skirt from now on, I ought to at least offer it all back to Anita, if she ever spoke to me again after my performance earlier.

I sat back down when I had finished. All I really wanted to do now was catch the train back home, and get back to my old life. Liz was coming around that evening, and I supposed I'd have to tell her about what Anita and I had done. That would be the end of that relationship as well, but at that moment, the prospect of celibacy and the life of a nun seemed quite attractive.

Before I could do any of that, however, I had to face Janet, and her proposal. I rehearsed in my mind several times what I was going to say to her, trying to make sure that it would not hurt her any more, or make her loose her temper with me again. I put together in my mind what was the best possible speech for the occasion, and holding my breath to give me renewed strength, I picked up the heavy bag, and walked back down the stairs.

To add to my discomfort, my jeans felt all flappy and odd around my legs, and the trainers felt unnecessarily heavy, and oddly flat, forcing me to walk seemingly leaning back a bit. My chest felt particularly naked, covered only with a T-shirt as well.

"I'm in here!" Janet shouted, from a small room to one side. Putting the bag down by the door, I held myself as straight as I could, and walked through. Janet was sitting on a battered brown leather sofa, and signalled for me to join her on it.

"I can't stay too long," I said, hoping this would help. "My train's in half an hour."

"I'll walk you to the station," Janet announced.

"It's all right, I can find the way," I replied.

"Yeah, but it's a bit rough around here," she went on. "I'll walk you there. Now sit down."

Meekly I obeyed, and watched, as Janet tried to gather the courage together to ask me to go out with her. I wished I could have saved her the effort, knowing as I did that I was going to refuse her.

"The thing is," she began, looking not at me, but out of the window. "I fancy someone."

I waited for her to continue.

"I've fancied them for some time, although I only really realised it this weekend."

"Right," I said, merely to fill the silence, looking intently in front of me rather than at her.

"Now I wouldn't normally do anything about it," she went on. "Nobody wants to go out with me, I'm not pretty enough."

I almost told her this wasn't true, but stopped myself, knowing what was bound to be coming next.

"But this time, I've decided I've got to go for it," she continued. "I owe it to myself."

"Yes," I replied weakly.

"The thing is," she said, turning bright red as she spoke. "The person I fancy is ……………"

Her Mum came through the door at that moment. "Who do you fancy?" she asked.

"Mum!" Janet protested, "This is private!"

"Sorry!" her Mum said, with a hint of sarcasm. "I was just going to ask if you wanted chips with your bacon for tea?"

"Yes," Janet replied forlornly. My mind quickly told me how many calories a meal of chips and bacon would contain, and what damage it could do to my hips and thighs. I told it that it didn't matter, as I was never going to wear a skirt again.

"Oh you look different Sarah!" her Mum said, suddenly noticing me. She looked me up and down. "I don't know, I think I prefer you dressed as a girl you know." I smiled in response to this, not able to think of anything else at the time.

"Mum, can you leave us alone for a minute?" Janet pleaded.

"Oh, all right," her Mum replied, and left us alone again.

Janet was silent for a while, having lost the head of steam she had built up.

"What was I saying?" she said.

"You wanted chips with your tea?" I suggested, unhelpfully.

"No, before that. Yes. About this person I fancy. You can guess who it is can't you?" she asked.

I felt myself blushing. "No, I don't think I can," I managed to say.

"No, I bet you can," she insisted. "It must be obvious from the way I act."

This was awful; I squirmed in my seat, my jeans feeling desperately uncomfortable against my legs. I could almost wish I were still wearing a skirt.

"I don't think I can guess Janet," I said, after a considerable pause.

She looked sheepish, and gazed at me with her brown eyes half framed by the red glare of her recent plucking exploits. "Well I suppose I'll have to tell you then," she announced.

"You don't have to." I replied, repeating in my mind the speech of rejection I had been planning for this moment.

"Oh I think I do," she said. "The thing is, the person I fancy," she paused, and looked down at her feet. "I hope you won't think I'm stupid."

"Of course not," I replied, feeling myself tensing up inside.

"Chrissie always says I'm stupid."

"Well Chrissie is not very nice,"

"No. Well the person I fancy is Peter."

"Well that's very sweet of you, but," I began to say, going straight into my rehearsed speech before registering what she had actually said. "I'm sorry, did you say Peter?"

"Yes," she replied blankly, looking very downcast at the floor in front of us.

I didn't know what to say. I felt so stupid, assuming that it was I who had captured her heart. What a piece of blind arrogance on my part! Did I really think that I was so irresistible that I was the only person anyone could possibly fancy? No wonder Anita had said I was a slag, it was so true!

"Well that's nice." I managed to say eventually.

"No it's not," Janet grumbled. "It's horrible. I feel all tied up inside."

I looked at her with compassion. "Well fancying people can be a bit like that."

She nodded. "And I don't suppose he even knows who I am," she went on.

"Well I'm sure he does," I said, reassuringly. "I mean, you helped him get ready for the contest and all that."

"I know," she said. "But he probably only noticed Chrissie. She's the only one boys ever notice, even when she's horrible to them."

"Well I'm sure he noticed you as well." I replied.

Janet shrugged, and looked even more miserable. "Well even if he did, we were really horrible to him most of the time. I bet he'd never go out with me now."

"Well I don't suppose you were as horrible to him as Chrissie; or Jacquie."

"Maybe not," she conceded. "I tried to be nice to him."

"Well there you go then. Maybe you stand a chance with him then."

"Do you really think so?" she asked, looking at me with eagerness flaring in her eyes.

"Yes. A chance anyway."

She gave this some thought. "Well perhaps you could help!"

I looked at her and said, "Well perhaps. What do you think I could do?"

"You could ask him out for me!" she said, obviously delighted with the prospect. She reached across and held my hands. "Come on Sarah, will you do that for me?"

"My name's Steve," I managed to say, as my mind whirled with her suggestion. "I don't know Janet. I don't really know Peter all that well."

"Oh please Sarah!" she pleaded. "He's bound to listen to you!"

I bit my lip, as her hot hands clasped mine in a sort of prayer. "Well," I said hesitantly. "I'll see what I can do."

"Brilliant!" she exclaimed, and hugged me roughly, forcing the breath from my lungs.

"Let me go!" I managed to gasp. "That's too tight."

"Oh, sorry!" she said, releasing me, and looking genuinely remorseful at causing me pain. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," I said, regaining my breath. "I'll have a word with him tomorrow if you like. I can't promise anything though."

"Of course not. Oh Sarah, you're such a great friend. Chrissie would never do anything like this for me."

"No, I don't suppose she would," I replied. "And my name's Steve."

"Whatever," she responded dismissively. "Great. Come on then, and I'll walk you to the station."

Despite my protestations, she was as good as her word, and escorted me back to the station in time for my train. To add to my embarrassment she also insisted on carrying my bag, which, since I was now demonstrably a boy, felt entirely wrong. All the time, she just continued talking about how much she liked Peter, and how good she would be for him. This just added to my shame at thinking that it was me that she fancied. Add to this the discomfort my trousers and trainers were causing, and the walk to the station became a quite miserable experience for me.

Janet also insisted on waiting on the platform, and talking to me through the window of the carriage before the train set off. She obviously had it set in her mind that I was an entirely helpless person, who couldn't be trusted to be left on their own. Poignantly, when I recalled my sluttish behaviour over the past few days, and the trouble it had got me into, I had to admit there was some truth to her conclusions.

In spite of this, the journey home passed without incident, and I crashed through the door to my house, beginning to feel the weight of the bag. Mum and Dad quizzed me endlessly about how my job had gone, especially since I had told them about Sylvia's collapse. They then went on to question how the night out with Anita had been. Had I had anything to drink? Were there any fights? Were there drugs for sale? and so on.

Eventually I managed to extricate myself from the interrogation, and went up to my room to lie down.

Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep, and was woken up some time later by my Mum shouting up the stairs to me that dinner was ready. My first thought was to curse that I hadn't explained to her my new dietary requirements, then I remembered that I wasn't going to wear a skirt again, and figured that a little bit of cellulite on my thighs probably didn't matter that much. I went downstairs, and enjoyed a traditional roast Sunday dinner.

I decided to forewarn them that Liz was likely to be around, and was immediately given a lecture on leading girls on. What did I think Anita would think of me dating another girl straight away, and where did Sue fit into all of this? Where indeed, I thought to myself, but managed to evade the questions until the doorbell rang.

It was indeed Liz, and as soon as I saw her, all my resolve to try and sort things out disappeared. She lent over, and gently kissed me full on the mouth, and told me how much she had missed me. My body screamed out that it had missed her too, although my voice seemed to have taken a leave of absence.

"I got you a present, by the way," she said, as she led me to her car. "Here."

She handed me a little jewellery box, and I was immediately reminded of the 'Sarah' necklace Anita had given me the weekend before. Standing by the passenger door, I opened it. Inside was a pair of long dangly earrings, with what looked like pearls in them.

"They're lovely," I managed to say.

"Do you like them then?" she asked. "I got some advice from the woman at the shop about what would suit you."

I looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well I told her about your hair colour, and the shape of your face. She suggested these."

"Well they are lovely," I repeated, looking at them. Indeed they were, and I ached to try them on.

"Are you going to put them on then?" she asked, not unreasonably.

"I can't," I replied. "They're for pierced ears. I've not had mine pierced."

She looked crestfallen. "I should have guessed," she said, criticising herself. "Here, give them to me. I'll take them back."

I held them out of her grasp. "No," I replied. "Maybe I'll get them done, so I can wear these."

She looked suddenly delighted with this, and we smiled at each other, before kissing again. "Come on," she said, "I'll take you for a drive."

We stopped again in a little lay by, and kissed like there was no tomorrow. Part of me wanted to tell her all about Anita, and the weekend I had had, but a more powerful part simply wanted to respond to her being there, kissing me, and caressing me. It seemed to me that there would be a glorious symmetry in letting her do to me what Anita had done, but she made no move. I tried by my body positioning to suggest to her that she could, but she stuck to her resolve.

Eventually we took a breather. "I know what I meant to ask," she said. "Did you remember to wear those knickers I bought you on Friday?"

I had completely forgotten. I was actually wearing one of the set that Anita had bought me, which suddenly made me feel even more unfaithful to her than I did already. That, it occurred to me, was why I wanted her to make love to me, so I could assuage the feelings of guilt.

I shook my head sorrowfully. "I'm sorry," I muttered. "I forgot."

She smiled back at me. "Well it doesn't matter. I'd rather you wore them when you next wear a skirt."

I decided that there was at least one confession that I could make. "Well," I began, "I'm not sure I'm going to wear a skirt any more."

She looked at me with disappointment written all over her face. "But what about the cheerleading? You've got to go through with that, for me!"

I looked at her expectant face. "Well that's all right," I reasoned. "That's not really wearing a skirt is it?"

She looked puzzled. "Well I think the outfit has a skirt with it."

"Well it's not a real skirt," I said, justifying for myself more than her. "It's more of a gym skirt isn't it?"

She shrugged.

"Anyway, I won't be wearing tights with it, will I? So that doesn't count."

She shrugged again. "If you say so. You'll look beautiful anyway." And with this, she began to kiss me again.

We carried on like this for nearly two hours, at the end of which I pressed her to take me home. My Mum had insisted I was back by nine, and we were only 15 minutes late with this.

"Do you want a lift in tomorrow?" she asked, as she gave me one last snog on my doorstep. I thought about this. It was appealing if for no other reason than it meant that I would not have to face Anita on the train. I nearly said yes, but then decided that I would have to confront what I had done sooner or later, and that in some respects, sooner would be better.

I shook my head in response, and allowed her to kiss me again, before watching her walk over the road to her car, and drive away. My body was still singing expectantly, desperate for her to repeat what Anita had done to me. It wanted her to take control, and love me, but she did not. I sighed, closed the door, and prepared myself for bed.

  

  

  

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