Rights retained by author  ©by Essarr Permission granted to Big Closet Exclusively

My room has changed from what it looked like in the summer. I made some subtle changes as fall progressed into October. The Dallas Cowboy team banner is gone. I don’t care about football anymore. Not that I was a big fan in the first place. It has been replaced with a poster of a girl running. She is wearing a Syracuse University track team outfit. When I stare at it, I shudder. I look terrible in orange. That school is crossed off my list. I can still hear mom and dad freaking out downstairs as I stare at my Exeter pennant above the vanity. I still consider the creativity it took to convince mom I had a use for a vanity.

I, digress again having wandered from my tale of woe and how I sunk to this level. I suppose the longer I take telling you what happened the safer I am hiding in my room. As if I have any power to determine when a pair of freaked out voices will command my appearance.

Anyway it was the day after the magical kiss on another hot May day. The Tuesday before Memorial Day weekend when we are sprung from the Willie.

I am feeling pretty good after the successful track meet. I wore my running shorts to school. I did say it was bloody hot eh? The stares coming from the kids was unsettling. As I opened my locker I saw Craig approach. Now that he is crowding six foot tall and looking ripped, he has decided Boner is no longer an appropriate nickname. It had become clear over the last week if you called him that his reaction would be painful for you.

Craig is now dating. He is going with a pretty girl named Debbie Clayton. It bothers me to think my best friend has gone from constant companion to somebody I know. Craig is convinced his sudden development into a hunk has something to do with that stupid game.

“Hey Craig got a minute?”

He turned his expression signaled his answer was no but I went ahead anyway.

“Yeah, I wanted to tell you, I got a new game. Do you want to have at it this weekend?”

I could see the no in his face while I asked the question.

His voice broke my concentration.

“Jean, I do not have the time. I am going to the dance with Debbie Friday night. Saturday, we are double dating with Rocky and Joyce.”

The disappointment must have been evident in my face. Craig smiled adding a bit of advice.

“Bro you should lose the shorts. Your legs look too girly and the guys are noticing.”

I flushed as he walked away. Then looking down I suddenly could see what he was talking about. Sarah Collins walked by wearing a navy linen mini flashing her legs. She gazed at mine offering a wry smile but kept walking. I had this strange feeling something was wrong. Mark Taylor an eighth grade student almost walked into an open locker door while staring at my legs.

Was it that stupid game? All these changes to the three of us occurred after I blew it up. I could suddenly see in my head the message displayed as the game crashed. ‘Attributes saved.’ This is freaking me out. The class bell rang while I stood day dreaming against my locker door. I ran like hell to my next class.

As the teacher droned on and on I caught two guys, I hardly know staring at my legs. Worse I noticed I was sitting like a girl the way my legs were crossed. ‘This is going to be a hellish last week of school.’ I do notice with satisfaction how nice my tan looks. Even worse I spot Claire sitting in front of me. Her color combination is all wrong. Once again I shudder finally able to escape this place.

I almost reach my house when my personal torture is interrupted.

“I hear you are transferring to Exeter in the fall.”

A sweet voice is heard from behind. I turn to see Traci and smile at her.

“Yes, it appears so. I guess it is ok though my friends are all going to Clayton.”

She pokes me with a long finger.

“All your friends, what about Becky, Pam and I not to mention Dave? I heard about you going to dinner with him.”

Trapped, I blush defending myself lamely.

“He came to watch my track meet and we went to Burger King afterward. That hardly qualifies as dinner. It is cool I can hang out with you guys.”

I could see the deviltry in her gorgeous eyes. It must have been the Jean side of Marie that led me into the next trap.

“If you are not doing anything, come on over to the house. I have something for you.”

I agreed as it is hours before anyone gets home and my buds ditched me for the day. In Traci’s room she sits at her vanity as I dangle my legs from the edge of her bed. I watch her staring into the mirror as she fiddles with her hair. Her eyes keep glancing down at my legs. I could tell she was dreaming up yet another scheme.

“Jean Marie sit at the vanity I want to see something.”

I do as my curiosity is in control. I look into the mirror and see my familiar face. Not that I am bad looking but I am a long way from hunk material.

“Your hair is nice Jean. I love the silky feel and how it frames your face.”

A compliment is this girl hitting on me? I smile softly replying my thank you.

“Do you mind if I clear up some of these split ends?”

She asked innocently enough though I should of worried. Stupid me answered in the affirmative. When she finished my hair screamed girl. I looked at her accusingly.

“Look what you did. I look like a girl.”

Traci steps back taking my measure. After a thoughtful survey, she makes a weird comment.

“John Marie, it is not just the hair. You legs and there is something else. Remember when you helped me with my skirt project?

She did not wait for me to answer. Instead she pressed on with the most irrational suggestion.

“How brave are you?”

Even the most dense guy, I know would understand this is a loaded question. Especially when it is a pretty girl asking. Fully aware, I cautiously answer as noncommittally as I can.

“Brave, not vary I am rather timid in that regard.”

I thought ‘safe you wiggled off the hook Jean old boy.’ So I thought disregarding the determination of a pretty girl. She opened her closet door retrieving her Exeter uniform. Then executing the most perfect innocent pout I’d ever seen I melted.

“I will wait in the hall while you change.”

Dumbfounded I examined the hanger that laid on the bed. With great fear I raised it up to find a blue blazer which I removed. Under it I saw the white Oxford with buttons on the wrong side. Accompanying that is the wool pleated gray skirt. The forbidden garment that no true blooded male would touch. The exception being to raise it exposing more of the girl’s legs.

Several minutes later a tap on the door breaks my trance. I had been in shock from staring at a pretty girl in the mirror.

“Wow you are pretty Jean Marie.”

Traci said as she stepped closer.

“You should wear that to Exeter. It looks great on you.”

“Are you serious? They would kill me.”

That was all I could think of as a comeback. Traci raised a brow still gazing at me like she was trying to figure out what I am.

“Dave would like it. I can assure you of that. The boy talked about you all day. Did you know you have great legs, blinding speed, a great personality and a face to die for?”

I went into full panic mode hearing that.

“Is that what Dave said?”

Traci nodded simply bubbling with excitement.

“He is definitely gone gaga over you.”

In full panic mode I absently remove the blazer laying it on the bed. As I started unbuttoning the oxford. When the shirt fully opened and I am about to remove it there was a tap on the door. It opened to reveal Doctor Cox standing there. Traci had moved as I began to undress. Curiosity, surprise I do not know which but the girl just watched. Traci’s mom displayed a gaze of concern.

“Jean Marie your breast appear inflamed. Is that a rash I see?”

Trapped, my panic widened as I blurted incoherently.

“Yes Dr. Cox, they have been itching something awful.”

I noted Traci’s giggle as her mother stepped closer to me. The woman’s touch though gentle produced a strange feeling of stimulation.

“Many girls experience that as they develop. You have been scratching them and you should not. I have some salve made just for this purpose. I will be right back.”

Traci hugs me careful not to touch my chest.

“You should have said something. I could have helped.”

My face reddens forming a greater hue as I, fluster.

“What I simply say Traci my tits itch what can I do about it? No guy is going to admit that to a girl.”

She answers beginning with my name stressing the Marie half.

“I do not see a guy here. I see a pretty girl and you cannot deny that. Why do you pretend to be a guy?”

Mrs. Cox returned dabbing a bit of salve on my chest. She then hands me the tube and instructs Traci to leave the room.

“Jean Marie have you started your period?”

I blink mouthing the words started and period displaying horror in my eyes.

“No Dr. Cox.”

That is all that could come out. I should have said I have not because I am a boy to this kind doctor. If I did, she would have figured out something is wrong. Most likely I would not be in the mess I am in. No not I, I say no Doctor Cox without saying why.

“Honey it is not unusual for girls to develop late. Use the salve to calm the itch and have your mother get you a training bra. It will help by keeping your breast from rubbing against your blouses. I sent Traci out to avoid embarrassing you in front of your friend. I suggest you have your mother make an appointment with your doctor.”

I could only thank her and as she started to leave a sudden thought caused Doctor Cox to turn.

“Traci go into my room and bring back one of the garment bags off my bed.”

The girl was in and out like a flash returning with a plastic bag.

Traci opened it to find a new school uniform.

“Mom I did not need a new uniform it is the same as the one we are using. I have four of them.”

“I know dear. I picked this up on my way home. It was then I discovered they were the same. Give it to Jean Marie it will save her mother some time and money.”

“I, can’t accept that.”

I interjected realizing I am getting in too deep. Traci’s giggles are less than helpful.

“Jean my uniform looks darling on you. You have to take it.”

I grumble under my breath nodding a resistant thank you while lying the bag on the bed. Dr. Cox made her exit and I sat on the edge of Traci’s bed. By now I had forgotten Traci’s question asking why I pretended to be a guy. ‘Does she really think I am a girl? Her mother does.’

“You think that is funny don’t you?”

“Not as funny as mom giving you the skirt I made for my school project.”

I blink, panic growing as my face is beet red. Traci is still talking rapid fire.

“Look on the hanger the skirt is there. I do not know why you are complaining it looked good on you. Marie, that name fits you better. Those legs of yours are killer. Take the stuff home and hide them in your closet. I will call you tonight.”

Like an idiot I picked them up slung the bag over my shoulder and slithered home defeated. Once in my room, I folded the skirt neatly as I could. For some strange reason I know the material will not wrinkle easily. ‘Wrinkle why should I care?’ I hid it in my bottom drawer under several pairs of jeans. ‘What about the uniform bag? That will not be easy to hide.’ I do have a large closet so I hung it in a dark corner hoping no one would notice. You know how it is when you have a lot of clothes hanging on a rod. The thing crammed on the end is never seen. It is not like mom pokes around. She neatly folds the laundry placing things in a basket at the bottom of the stairs. She came up with the idea that she does the washing. It is not a big deal for me to carry my stuff up the stairs and put it away. It is hard to argue against her logic when the woman is so insistent. At least one rule works in my favor.

I looked in the mirror and saw those legs. ‘Shit they do look like girl legs.’ It is a problem but no worse than a few others I noticed this week. They did not look like that last week. My jeans do not fit right. I can barely get them over my hips while they are too loose in the waist. I cinch the belt as tight as I can creating a swell blousy effect. I reach for a rayon yellow top. ‘Did I say top? What the hell is wrong with me?’ Yes, it is a synthetic material not cotton. We are at a point where the fashion police whine cotton kills. So I end up wearing quick drying materials. The whole idea of being told cotton tee shirts are taboo and big Macs will kill me is pissing me off. What next will Homeland Security bust in the door confiscating my jeans?

Mom steps in the front door as my cell is ringing it is Traci.

“Can you come to the mall with us Saturday?”

I answer questioning who us is. Traci answers in her sweet voice. God, I love her voice.

“Pam and Becky will be with me of course. We are on a mission to shop and your fashion sense is awesome.”

“I do not know I will ask. Mom can I go with Traci, Pam and Becky to the mall Saturday?”

Mom stops in her tracks placing her bags on the table. She shook her head no. “We have to talk.”

I told Traci. I have to call her back but it does not look good. Then went into the kitchen behind mom. My whine must have torqued her off.

“Mom I want to go.”

With little sympathy mother sat down with a cup of coffee. She wanted to talk about her conversation with dad last night.

“Your friend David seems like a nice boy. Did you have fun?”

I nodded carefully telling her it was all right but no big deal. A burger is a burger. Mom pressed on informing of the decision she and dad made.

“We decided since you know three girls in the neighborhood and David seems like a nice boy you should attend Exeter. It will do you good. Speaking of the girls are you interested in one of them?”

“Mom, I like all three they are my friends.”

Mom did not press the issue but she dropped another bomb.

“Exeter has accepted you. I thought we could go over there on Saturday and purchase your uniforms. I know you wanted to go with your friends but this is important.”

I was not going to tell her, I already have a uniform, duh. That would not be cool. So I did the next best thing, I lied.

“Traci told me they are changing the uniforms and the new ones won’t be in until just before school starts. There is no point in buying the old style when I could not use them.”

Mom looked at me suspiciously accepting what I said. I doubt she bought it but I escaped for the moment.

“So can I go with the girls?”

Mom agreed and I called Traci to tell her. I also let her know about my lie just in case uniforms came up in front of mom. Traci agreed to provide cover for me and teasingly hit me with her joke.

“You already have a uniform. It looks good on you and we expect to see you in it.”

“Yeah right,” I answered.

I am beginning to worry about Traci’s attitude thinking she wants me to be a girl. I am going to have to be careful around her. I turn to mom with a question. I know it was a stupid question but I needed to create a distraction from my troubled thoughts.

“What are you doing?”

Mom’s expression transmitted to me her thoughts. ‘What do you think I am doing? Peeling potatoes stupid’ instead she answered sweetly.

“I am getting dinner ready.”

I shrugged walking over to the laundry basket and began sorting through it.

“Now it is my turn what are you doing?’

“I am sorting the whites from the colors. You wash them separately so I thought I would help. You do laundry on Saturday why are you doing this now?”

Mom raises a brow questioningly.

“There are some things I need in there before the weekend that is all.”

I continued sorting until I had two independent loads and began to fill the washer. Mom stared at me watching closely but not speaking. I loaded the white things mostly socks and under ware. I put in a cap full of liquid detergent. Mom was about to say something then stopped. She saw me pour in baking soda and close the lid.

“I know mom. Bleach bothers you and baking soda works as well without chemicals.”

She walked over feeling my forehead pronouncing me fever free.

“Are you all right?”

“I am fine mom I just want to help. Would it be ok for me to do the wash each week when I get home on Fridays? It will free up your Saturdays. You work hard enough.”

Her expression was like one of those credit card commercials, priceless. The dinner conversation centered on my attending Exeter. Dad thought it was a grand idea especially because he was not fond of Craig and Rocky. Mom told him about the uniforms which was ok with him. Dad is never in a rush to spend money. The buzzer went off and I removed the whites from the dryer. Then placed the colors in the dryer. Pushing the basket forward I left it close to the table. Dad stared while mom smiled. I cleared the table and began folding the clothes.

When I finished I noticed two speechless parents I dropped two baskets at the foot of the stairs. While holding my own, I reminded mom of the rule.

“You take care of your own.” I ran upstairs with my clothes before hearing any comeback. My clothes were quickly put away then I removed my shirt. Yes, I said shirt not top. While sitting on my bed, I applied the salve to my chest. I suddenly felt stimulated and grabbed my one inch monster which refused to grow. Try as I might the flaccid organ failed to respond. It is just as well it did not as suddenly mom tapped on the door.

“May I come in?”

Before I could cover my chest, she was staring at it.

“My God, Jean Marie what is wrong with your chest. It is puffy and is that a rash?”

I whimpered explaining how Dr. Cox saw it yesterday.

“She gave me some salve which really helps. She told me tell you to have a doctor look at it.”

Mom gave me the answer I expected.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I am embarrassed mom.”

“I will call Emily to make an appointment.”

Fear struck then Traci’s mom thinks I am a girl. I don’t want her to find out I lied to her. Not this way, I know I have to tell her face to face. I cannot let her find out this way.

“Not Traci’s mom it is too embarrassing.”

My mother smiles understanding and agrees to call Doctor Lewis. She then makes another strange comment.

“Jean Marie your hair looks nice. What did you do to it?”

I blushed wanting to avoid answering but knew this conversation is out of control.

“Traci trimmed my split ends as she called them. She showed me how to do it but you can’t see too well in the bathroom mirror. If I had a vanity like hers, it would be easy to keep my hair neat.”

From mother’s expression I could tell I should not have uttered the word vanity. I have no idea where it came from. Mom’s surprise morphed into a smile as she stroked my hair.

“What am I going to do with you? You are full of surprises boys do not care about split ends. They don’t volunteer to do laundry either. But I will get you the vanity. Do you really want the laundry detail on Fridays after school?”

“Yes mom I want to help.”

Mother stared again. Perhaps this is the beginning of that twitch she developed.

“You did a great job with the wash tonight. Really you did. I am surprised. What is this going to cost me?”

I smiled telling her nothing and felt good doing it. I have no idea why but I was happy about it.

When I got up in the morning it was just in time to hear mom and dad leaving for work. I brushed my hair feathering it forward. I really liked how the bangs highlighted my eyes. I tightened my belt and threw on a sloppy tea to hide the blousing. Downstairs I found a note from mom. She made an appointment for right after school with Dr. Lewis. She is going to pick me up at three. I took a deep breath resigning myself to a poke and prod session.

I had not seen Doctor Lewis since a school physical in seventh grade. I know they keep records so the doctor must know I am a boy. We wait almost an hour before we are ushered into the exam room. Marilyn Colby steps in telling us she is Dr. Lewis’ PA. The doctor is out on an emergency. Mom agrees for the PA to conduct the exam. She examines my chest telling mom the puffiness is normal at the beginning of puberty. She asked mom if I had started puberty yet. Mom confirmed she thought not. The Pa took a quick look at my private area and raised an odd expression. I thought she was going to comment on my monster. Embarrassed enough I did not want two women talking about my miniature organ.

She said she was concerned about something else startling mom. The PA asked if she noted any spotting. Mom shrugged appearing a bit miffed until the PA expanded.

“Jean Marie is a bit puffy around the opening. You say there is no spotting or trouble urinating.”

Mom narrows her brows turning to me. She uttered only one word sounding like “well.” I said sounding like well because I was having an internal freak out. I thought they were about to say my balls were starting to drop. No fourteen year old wants to talk about his balls to a woman and his mother. Relieved it is only puffiness they were worried about I answered.

“I have no problem peeing what do you mean by spotting?’

The PA said, “you know drops of blood.”

Wait one minute! I was a fourteen year old clueless boy. Well, I thought I was a boy. Clueless I was for certain. That was almost a year ago. If I live through this, it means someone is actually reading my tale of woe. I bet you readers picked up on three important code words. You know what they are, spotting, opening, drops of blood. As I think about this mom was not listening. Back to my jeremiad.

I shook my head in response to blood while mom appeared relieved. The PA asked mom if she wanted to prescribe something to kick start puberty. Mom looked at me. What do I know? Puberty meant I will likely have a growth spurt. Especially where my monster is concerned it will impress girls. Of course, I said yes.

The PA told mom the swelling should go down as it is normal at the onset of puberty. Mine is late starting but with medication I should expect to see changes in a few weeks. You see what I did not know is the swelling caused a crease under my monster. That slot looked like something you would expect to see in someone with the middle name of Marie. Had I known that I could have said something. Another telling comment I did not pick up on was when the PA said “Jean Marie you have pretty eyes.”