Kyle has purged and is trying to be "normal" - only to find it impossible. After two years of misery, his sister Christine dares him to put on their sister Taryn's dress. Can he resist? What happens to Kyle - and what does his mischievous sister have in store for him?

This time: What will Lilli do about Mira, the girl she loves?

BUDDING LILLI - PART 3

Chapter 12: Saturday, May 15, 2010

“Lilli, are you okay?”

Taryn closed the front door behind us. I could still faintly hear Mira’s car driving away.

“No,” I mumbled, letting out a long sigh. “She would never even consider going out with me now. Not after meeting Lilli.”

I stopped as I realized that something felt wrong about that sentence — and I knew what it was. It felt wrong to use my feminine name in the third person. I was Lilli — even if I was also Kyle. Still . . .

“Well, Lilli, I don’t think she knew about you,” Taryn tried to persuade me.

“I think she figured it out — she turned around and looked at me when she got to that stop sign as she drove away,” I countered.

“Awww. Poor girl. We never meant for this to happen!” Christine hugged me and Taryn made it a group hug.

“I know. I’m not mad at you two at all. I was the one who chose to go into that ice cream parlor. But I needed to go in there! If I didn’t live as a girl, at least a little, then what was the point of leaving the house?”

“That’s true.” Taryn nodded as though deciding that she would try to cheer me up. “You know, Lilli, that remark about your monthly visitor was pretty funny.”

Christine giggled but I could only manage a weak smile.

“Yeah,” I admitted. I paused before I hastily explained, “I wasn’t making fun of menstruation or anything. I just needed something to say that wouldn’t blow my cover.”

“We know,” Christine smirked as she tucked a loose lock of hair behind my ear.

“Oh. Good,” I sighed. “I think I need some alone time right now. I’m just, um . . .” I gestured over my shoulder with my thumb. “I’m just going to go up to my room for a while.”

“Okay. We’ll leave you alone, but just so you know, we’d be happy to talk with you, too, if you need to talk about it,” Taryn advised me.

I thought for a moment. I did want to talk about it but I didn’t know exactly what I needed to talk about.

“Maybe later. Thanks, Taryn.”

“You’re welcome.”

* * * * *

I turned around and trudged up to my room. I went inside, closed the door, and sat on my bed. I felt a lump in my throat as tears began to flow and, for the first time, I did nothing to suppress them. I let them come; I would have welcomed them were it not for the reason they were present.

Removing my shoes, I lay down on my bed, carefully smoothing my skirt as I did so. As I laid my head on my pillow, staring at my ceiling, all I could think about was Mira. I reached for a tissue from my nightstand to dry my eyes as more tears flowed. After several minutes, the tears stopped. I felt numb. I lay there trying to figure myself out.

I had liked being treated as a girl at the ice cream parlor and I had even enjoyed the way that Mira seemed to accept me as a girl. It felt good to chat with Jocelyn just like a girl. But was I a girl? I still couldn’t figure it out.

One thing had become clear, however. I was not a boy. There was no way I was a boy. I found boys annoying, insensitive and incomprehensible more often than not. When that boy had ogled me on the way to the ice cream parlor, I felt different from him; I felt that I was not like him. There was just something different between us.

I realized that I had always felt that way around boys. Where I should have felt similarity I felt only difference. We were not of the same kind. I didn’t know what my kind was, but I knew it wasn’t that! I was not a boy. That meant that I was a girl or . . . or what? What was the alternative? Was I non-gendered or bi-gendered? Did such things even exist?

Other than the fact that I was not a boy, the only thing I knew with any certainty was that Mira would never want me either way, not as a girl and not as a non-gendered or bi-gendered person. There might have been a chance in a hundred that Mira could overlook seeing me dressed as a girl if I were a boy, but I now knew that I was not a boy.

I closed my eyes as tears resumed leaking. The lump returned to my throat. Somewhere between sobbing and drying my eyes, I drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

When Taryn came to my door and woke me up, I saw that it was dark outside.

“We’re going to have dinner soon. Are you feeling any better? I know you must feel heartsick.”

I slowly sat up as Taryn sat down next to me and put one arm around me.

“I feel a little better, I guess,” I rasped as I looked out the window. “Wow. I was out for a while, huh?”

“Yeah. Just under three hours.”

I continued staring out my window as I considered whether to tell my sister what I'd been thinking about. I took a breath, and my words were just there with my exhalation.

“I’m not a boy, Taryn. There’s no way I’m a boy . . . there’s just no way.”

I paused, my mind drifting around somewhere outside.

“Wow.”

Taryn waited for me to continue my ponderous soliloquy.

“I don’t know if I’m a girl or if I’m just . . . non-gendered or something, but . . . I’m not a boy. Boys piss me off.”

Taryn giggled at me and I abruptly joined her. I felt a bit better after telling Taryn of my gender struggles.

“Well, boys piss me off a lot, too. Just be glad you’re not attracted to them at the same time. Trust me; it can be a real head fuck.”

We shared a giggle as I stood up and put my shoes back on.

“I bet it is — and I don’t envy you,” I laughed again. “Anyway, I think I’d like to let Christine in on what’s going through my head. Come on.”

“Okay.”

I glanced at my mirror on the way out.

“Oh, shit. I messed up my braid again.”

“That’s okay. Let me fix it for you.”

“Thanks. No wonder girls don’t wear braids that often!”

We shared a giggle as Taryn deftly rewove my braid.

Chapter 13: Saturday, May 15, 2010

Christine was sitting in our mother’s office, using her computer to access the Internet. Taryn and I sat down in a couple of guest chairs that our mom kept in her office.

“Hey, Christine. Got a minute?” I smiled at her.

She looked at me with an expression that told me she was puzzled. Suddenly, she spun her chair to face us and propped her feet on the desk.

“Okay, the doctor is in. What’s going on, you two?”

“I was doing some thinking upstairs, Christine — well, I was before I fell asleep,” I chuckled.

“Okay,” she gently prompted.

“I am very clear on something now and I wanted to tell you.”

“Well, okay. You can tell me whenever you’re ready,” she encouraged.

“Okay. Here it is. I know now that I am not a boy,” I stated.

Christine looked at me, with her eyebrows raised and her head cocked slightly to one side.

“Wow. So do you mean you’re a girl?”

I paused again as I puzzled over how to answer that question.

“W-well, I-I don’t know. I might be a girl or I might be . . . well, ‘non-gendered’ for lack of a better word. But I’m not a boy.”

“Whoa! I can’t imagine what it must have been like to figure that out. That must have been hard. But anyway, that’s totally okay with me,” Christine insisted as she got up and hugged me.

“Thanks, Christine.”

I thought for a moment as I looked back and forth between my sisters.

“You know what? I love it when we hug each other. I seriously doubt many boys would say that.”

Christine’s eyebrows seemed to stretch higher.

“Yeah, I doubt that, too. So, um . . . how did you figure out that you’re not a boy?”

“It’s a lot of things, actually, but just to give you an example, whenever I’m around boys I feel like we’re different, like you or I would feel if we were standing in downtown Tokyo. I feel like I don’t come from the same world as boys do. I feel like I’m surrounded with a different culture and a different language. I feel like I don’t know the land and I can’t read the street signs and I have no idea where I’m going or what I’m doing.

“When I’m around girls, though, it’s more like I’m standing in downtown right here. I feel that I’m with people like me, people who . . . well, who come from where I come from and who are familiar with the place we come from as much as I am. I feel like I could talk to any one of them about where we come from and they would say, ‘oh yeah, I know just what you’re talking about’. They would also be speaking a language that I speak naturally. Am I making any sense?”

Christine’s eyebrows were still raised.

“Yes, I understand what you’re saying. That’s . . . amazing. It’s really amazing. Wow. I’ve never felt anything like that — but if I think about it now, I guess I do feel the same way around boys that you do, like they’re from a different planet — a planet that I never want to visit for that matter,” she joked, winning a round of chuckles.

“Although,” she added, “I guess it sounds like you were born there and you were expected to turn out like one of them, but you’re more like . . . well, I was going to say a Venusian on Mars, but I know that you’re not sure yet.”

“Well, you certainly have the right idea, though.”

I told Christine and Taryn about overhearing Susan’s conversation with Cynthia and feeling acute understanding for Susan’s predicament. They both seemed surprised at that one.

“Okay, you are definitely not a boy!” Taryn declared.

“Yeah! No boy would ever understand that, let alone say that! If a boy ever says that - who is a boy on the inside, anyway - then I want to marry him!” Christine joked.

“Unless I find him first!” Taryn challenged.

I laughed at my sisters, but part of me hurt when they said that. They both said that they wanted a boy who really was a boy; a normal boy. I was sure that most girls felt that way. Mira probably felt the same way. I decided it was time to change the subject.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry again.”

“Yeah, me too,” Christine agreed.

Taryn took charge of making dinner happen.

“That makes three of us. We had pizza last night, so let’s make some pasta tonight, okay?”

“Sure!”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay,” Taryn approved, “Let’s get started with the preparation. I’ve already set the dining room table.”

Dining room table? We only eat in the dining room when we’re expecting company!

“Y-yeah, I’ll be right there,” I stammered. “Let me just use the bathroom.”

“Okay. We’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

I hung back as they headed over to the kitchen, and I hurried to the guest bathroom to take care of business. When I finished, I stole over to the dining room to see if Taryn was serious about setting the dining room table. It was true — and it looked really nice, too! So who the hell was coming over?

Chapter 14: Saturday, May 15, 2010

I turned to leave the dining room, intent on interrogating my sisters, when the doorbell rang. I froze in my tracks.

There were narrow windows on either side of the front door that afforded a complete view of the foyer. There was a door leading to the kitchen at the other end of the dining room, but that door was visible from the front stoop through the dining room window. If I didn’t want to be seen dressed as a girl then I could not leave the dining room! I was trapped where I was!

I could do nothing but wait as Taryn walked out of the kitchen and answered the door. When she opened the door, I could see who was standing there — looking nervously back at me.

“Hi, Miranda. I’m glad you could make it.”

Taryn hugged my friend, whom I knew Taryn had invited. I looked at Taryn in shock before returning my stare to Mira, who continued to look at me.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” Mira admitted.

Mira glanced at Taryn but she was still looking at me. She had recognized me. I could feel it. Now she also knew that I was still dressed as a girl four hours after we left the ice cream parlor! I stood rooted to the spot with my mind seized up. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. The only thing I managed to say was, “Excuse me.”

I darted up the stairs to my room, where I closed the door behind me, slumping on my bed with fresh tears running down my face. Of all people, it had to be Mira, the one person I couldn’t possibly face — and Taryn invited her! How could she do that to me? It had hurt me to even look at Mira. I grabbed my pillow to hug it, burying my face in it as I cried, blocking out the boyish room around me.

Less than a minute had passed when I heard a knock on my door.

“Lilli? May I come in? Please?” Mira begged. “I really need to talk to you. I really need to understand what’s happening.”

I paused as I tried to regain my composure.

“Lilli, please talk to me.”

I knew how much Mira needed me to talk with her. She was worried that I might be angry with her or that she had done something wrong. I had understood Susan when she talked to Cynthia and I understood Mira now. She needed me to communicate with her - and I wasn’t about to leave her hanging. I wrestled my composure under control, put down my pillow and rose to open my door for Mira.

I pulled my door open to find Mira standing there, looking at me with deep apprehension on her face. She definitely needed to talk. I opened my door fully, standing aside for her as I wiped another tear from one cheek.

“Come on in. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

I stood in front of the mirror on my dresser, still wearing my sister’s clothes as the girl I loved sat on my bed. I was very nervous and I had been crying. It was hard for me to think straight.

“If you need to think for a minute, it’s really okay,” Mira assured me with a smile.

I loved a pretty smile on a pretty girl, but Mira’s smile had always melted my heart like cheese on a hot pizza. I longed to tell her that, but . . . fat chance now.

I swallowed as I struggled to relate my story, grateful that the two of us were alone in the room.

“I, um . . .” I took a ragged breath as I wiped away another tear.

“I need to explain why I’m dressed like this.” I looked at her hopefully.

“Okay. Please tell me. I’d love to hear all about it,” Mira smiled at me.

“Okay. Good,” I nodded as I took a breath of cautious relief.

“W-well, um . . . on Friday . . . Christine was helping Taryn clean out her closet . . . because it was really full and she had a bunch of stuff that she doesn’t wear any more. I was also helping because . . . well . . . I was bored.”

I chuckled ruefully at how silly that sounded. It was a half-truth, but blurting out that I loved my sister’s clothes was no way to start explaining myself.

“I-I mean . . . I had felt . . . off . . . for a few months by then and . . . I just didn’t have much of an appetite for the stuff I usually like. I guess I thought it would be, um . . . entertaining,” I sighed, the irony not lost on me.

I dared to glance over at Mira and I saw that she was still smiling at me. That helped me relax somewhat, but as I continued my story I was too timid to look at her again and I stared at my reflection as I resumed where I had left off.

“Anyway, um . . . Christine started joking that this really beautiful lavender dress would look good on me. Then she took it further . . .”

I told her about everything, right up until we got to the ice cream parlor. I left that out since she’d been present for that part of it. Mira then asked me if it was my first time dressing as a girl. I decided to be totally open and honest with her. I explained my history of dressing as a girl and even my exploration of my gender.

“Wow. You really have been struggling, haven’t you?”

I finally looked over at Mira and smiled at her.

“Yeah, I have. Anyway, Mira, now you know that I was never upset with you and you didn’t do anything wrong or hurt me in any way.”

“Okay. Good. I’m really glad to know that. Thank you for telling me,” she smiled, her tension visibly leaving her.

“You’re welcome.”

“Come and sit with me. Please?” Mira patted the bed in an alluring manner.

Without hesitation, I sat down next to her, tending to my skirt as I did. Much to my delight, she hugged me tightly. When she was done, she kept her arms around me.

“Lilli, can I ask a question?”

“Of course you can,” I smiled at Mira. “Go ahead.”

“When we were at the ice cream parlor . . . what was that awful look of pain I saw on your face after I arrived?”

I gulped and took a breath.

“That was when it hit me that . . . that, um . . .” I took another breath. “God, I don’t know how to say this . . . I-I don’t know if . . . if you even want to know this . . .”

I looked down at my hands, which had begun to shake, as Mira gently took them into hers before looking me in the eyes very earnestly.

“I do want to know. Really. I want to know everything. Please,” she implored as she gently squeezed my hands.

Wow. She really does want to know.

“Just, um . . . just take it a step at a time,” she encouraged. “I’m not going to go anywhere.”

“Okay.”

I took another breath. I tried to figure out how to say what I needed to say, but my mind was not working very well. I decided to just say it.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I . . . I have some pretty strong romantic feelings for you. I have had those feelings for a long time.”

A tear slid down my cheek. I could scarcely say it.

“At the ice cream parlor . . . what you saw in my face . . . was the realization that you would never want me because . . . you know, I’m not a boy. I don’t even know what I am,” I sobbed.

My voice began to quaver as another tear leaked down my cheek.

“Lilli, there’s something you don’t know about me that you definitely want to know,” Mira admitted as she wiped away my tear.

I looked up to see her smiling at me.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

“W-what is it?” I sniffled.

She leaned close to whisper, her lips tickling my ear, sending waves of pleasure through my body like jolts of electricity.

“I’m bisexual . . . and I have feelings for you, too. I always have. I’ve always known you were different . . . and that’s what I’ve always loved about you so much.”

I was stunned.

“W-w . . . b-but . . . y-you knew about me?”

“Well, no. I thought you looked familiar when I saw you at the ice cream parlor, but it didn't click then. I didn't know you were a girl until I got to the stop sign after I dropped you off when 'your monthly visitor arrived.'”

We broke into laughter, holding each other tightly, resting our heads against one another.

“But I knew that I loved you no matter what,” she cooed.

“Awww! You're making me cry!” I smiled passionately at her, wiping away a stray tear.

She pulled back just far enough to position our faces inches apart, so that she could look me in the eyes. Our conversation remained in the realm of whispering.

“You are a very special person, Lilli — and I don’t care if you really are a girl.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she nodded, never taking her eyes away from mine. “In fact, you’re even hotter as a girl.”

Her face moved closer to mine and she kissed me deeply. I had always fantasized about kissing Mira. Now I was actually kissing her! A rush of joy filled my heart — along with the massive dose of chemistry that gripped the rest of me - and I felt tears coming again.

“Are those happy tears?”

“Those are deeply happy tears.”

We kissed again.

“Mira, I don’t imagine that a lot of girls would be as open minded as you. In my book, that makes you very special, too.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” I swooned before I paused for a moment.

“You know, Mira, I have fantasized about kissing you.”

“I’ve fantasized about kissing you, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

I kissed her again — and something occurred to me.

“You know what? Boys seem to think that kissing is a prelude to sex, but it’s not like that for me. I’ve always wanted to kiss you as an act of love, not as a prelude to sex. Now, don’t misunderstand me. I am quite strongly attracted to you that way. I’m just not so focused on sex like boys seem to be. I guess that’s just more evidence that I’m not a boy.”

“It’s also evidence that you are a girl.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

We kissed again.

“Well, we should probably go downstairs,” Mira sighed, bringing our conversation back to normal volume. “Dinner should be ready soon. First, let me fix your makeup — and mine.”

“Okay. Thanks, Mira!”

“Oh, you’re welcome. That’s what girlfriends are for.”

She referred to herself as my girlfriend! I was in heaven! We stood up and kissed again — twice. Then, after Mira fixed my makeup as promised, we walked downstairs hand in hand.

Chapter 15: Sunday, May 16, 2010

Taryn came down the stairs — finally — but Mom was not with her. I gripped Mira’s hand as I stared at her. I noticed the expression on her face was not one of concern, but of playful annoyance.

“Hey, little sis. I’m sorry it’s taking so long. Mom got a call on her cell right as she walked in the door.”

Taryn rolled her eyes and Christine shot me an I-told-you-so look.

“Cell phones are such evil things!” Taryn joked.

“Yeah. They have a way of screwing up your timing, don’t they?” I added.

“Tell me about it!” Taryn nodded. “Anyway, I haven’t had a chance to talk to her yet and I just wanted to let you know.”

“Thanks, Taryn!”

“No problem, Lilli.” Suddenly, we could hear Mom’s high heels echoing across the kitchen floor. “Oh boy! I’d better go back upstairs before she comes down!” Taryn jumped up with a giggle and hustled back upstairs.

“Oh God!” I leaned against Mira, putting my arms around her and squeezing. “This is killing me!”

“Oh, sweetie, I know this is torture for you, but I’m here — and Christine and Taryn are here, too — and we’ll get you through this, okay?” she cooed.

“Is it any wonder I love you?” I smiled at Mira before laying my head back against her shoulder.

“Lilli?” Mira gasped.

Uh oh!

I pulled back to see that Mira was mightily amazed.

“Y-you used the ‘L’ word!” she stammered.

“Lesbian?” I crinkled my nose in confusion, making Christine giggle into the nearest pillow.

“No!” Mira laughed. “Love.”

“Oh!” I giggled. “Yeah, I did.”

“Do you mean it?”

“What, that I love you?”

“Yes, that!” she softly smacked my arm.

“Yeah, I mean it,” I hazarded, winning a zillion-watt smile from Mira.

“I love you, too, Lilli!”

“Really??”

“Yes! Why do you think I don't let anyone else call me Mira?”

With that, she grabbed me and kissed me deeply, right on my lips, right in front of Christine, who pretended to ram her finger down her throat.

“Barf!! Get a room!” she gibed as she rolled her eyes.

I glanced around the basement.

“Got one. Thanks!”

Mira couldn’t help laughing as I kissed her hard, making Christine cover her face with a pillow.

CONCLUSION COMING SOON!

[ Other Stories By Mona Lisa ]