Part 1: Bill is at school talking with the one friend who knows about his secret desire prior to going to a 'specialty' store to purchase something to make him feel more like the girl he really is, before something goes awry.

It was the last period of the day at West Lakes High School, a small red bricked compound in southeast Michigan. After the fifty minutes were up, both students and faculty alike would be free to enjoy their Christmas breaks. It was the kind of day that spoke of the holiday season and of winter. The temperature was hovering at a balmy twenty-eight degrees and the hint of the first snow of the season had many thinking that they would enjoy yet another white Christmas as they were accustomed to most every year.

In one classroom, the only classroom in the entire school that was void of any holiday decorations, two students sat huddled in the far corner as the teacher carelessly thumbed through the newspaper trying to find something to occupy his time. The rest of the students who were suppose to be at study hall thought it prudent to skip out of the fifty minutes of boredom and start their break a little early. But the two students liked each others’ company and stayed behind to chat before separating for a few weeks.

“So Sarah,” Trevor said in his high pitched voice that dripped thickly of homosexuality, “what are your plans? Do tell.”

Bill squirmed in his chair and looked up to make sure the teacher wasn’t eavesdropping. “Why do you have to use that name in public?”

“Because honey, that’s the name you picked.” Trevor didn’t see the need to hide his sexual orientation, but Bill wasn’t comfortable letting people know that he thought he was truly a girl trapped in a boy’s body. “I thought you were coming out anyway.”

“I am.” Bill turned red, but was unsure if it was out of anger or embarrassment. “Just not as quickly as you. You had to knock the door off the hinges. Me, I prefer to open it up a crack and see what’s lingering outside the big closet I’m in. I told my parents right after Thanksgiving, that was a good first step and that went over like a lead balloon.”

“I know.” Trevor put his hand on Bill’s forearm. “But Sarah, that’s no reason to deny who you are. So how are things holding up at your home anyway? Still the same old tyranny?”

Bill sighed. “I’m still banished to the garage if that’s what you mean. After my dad found out that I have been dressing like a girl in secret for two years, he pretty much threw me out. My mom was the one to convince him that the garage was a suitable place until I ‘got my head screwed on straight.” Bill gave a faint smile. “So to speak.” He giggled at his own little joke. “But my dad is trying. Failing, but, you know.”

Bill remembered sitting in his room; his real room that he’d known all of his life that was a part of the house proper and not some makeshift sheet-rock rectangle concealed by the rolling garage door. It was the day after Thanksgiving, his parents were sitting in the den discussing the upcoming season, which was then less than a month away. It was a yearly ritual for the two and though Bill was invited to participate, he excused himself and spent the last two hours confined to his room, pacing back and forth, thinking and plotting his next move.

The teen sat on his bed and then stood up a split second later for the seventeenth time. He smoothed out the pink comforter that lay on his bed, again, and then tentatively made his way to the door. He put his hand on the doorknob, almost turned it, but thought better of the whole idea and backed away. He looked at the bed. More precisely, he looked at the box spring. It was there, in a slit in the bunting underneath, where he hid all of Sarah’s wardrobe. The wardrobe wasn’t anything much; a few dresses, a skirt, a handful of undergarments, and two night gowns were the extent of the entire collection. Things that Bill would only wear when he knew both his parents would be gone for an extended period of time, or, as on three separate occasions, things he wore at Trevor’s house.

The idea of putting on one of those hidden outfits crossed Bill’s mind, but he didn’t think that was the best way to broach the subject with his parents. He doubted there was such a thing as the best way. He took a deep breath and made for the door, this time actually opening it. He made his way through the house and paused just out of his parents’ view, who were discussing whether William Sr.’s ex-boss should receive some sort of gift or just the family holiday card.

Bill gathered his thoughts and casually strolled into the room. Actually, he only tried to look casual; on the inside he was a bundle of nerves that wouldn’t stop dancing and crawling. He looked at his parents and managed a dopey grin.

“There he is,” Gail said jovially. “Better get out a pen a paper and jot down all the hints for the things he wants for Christmas. Let me guess,” Bill’s mother joked. “It starts with P and it rhymes with Borshe?”

William chuckled. “Maybe it starts with P, and it rhymes with Minto. But only after Driver’s ed.”

Bill gave a nervous laugh. “Good one, dad,” he said while scanning the room and trying to think of a way to approach the subject that he promised himself he would address before this day was up. “Actually, I wanted to talk about something serious.”

Gail looked at her son and saw the unease in his face. “Of course,” she said softly. “You know you can tell us anything.”

Bill grabbed his right wrist with his left hand and swung his arms behind his back. “Okay. Here it goes,” he started and then hesitated for a moment. “I don’t think I was meant to be a boy,” his voice quivered.

William looked at his wife in confusion and then at his son. “If you don’t think you’re meant to be a boy, what do you suppose you should be? A man?” he stated with an amused air about the situation, thinking his son was going to start asking for the usual teenager’s requests; a later curfew, a later bedtime, or perhaps to get a real job.

Bill shook his head. His dad was giving him a last chance to back out of the situation, but he had come as far as he did and didn’t think he could muster the courage to get to this point ever again. “NO, dad.” A girl. I’m a girl.”

William looked at his son with a dead pan face. All of a sudden he cracked up laughing. “Hoo boy, that’s rich. You two really must have put your heads together on that one. Had me going for a little while too.” He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye and began to settle down. He looked at his wife, whose face was frozen in shock as she stared at her child.

“It’s not a joke, dad,” Bill said loudly, flustered by the response. “I’ve been kind of dressing like one for almost two years now.”

The cheesy smile left William’s face as quickly as it was put on. “What are you trying to say?” he asked tersely.

Bill fidgeted in his spot, wishing he didn’t raise his voice. “Just that on the inside I think I was meant to be a girl and I want to live that way on the outside too. At first I thought I was being silly so I tried it in secret. It made me feel like me and not some fraud.”

Gail could see her husband turn flush with anger and decided to intercede. “Honey, there are no girls named Bill.”

Whatever logic his mother was using was completely lost on him. “I know. That’s why my girl’s name is Sarah.”

William stood up. “I didn’t raise you to be some sort of queer homosexual. This is what I get for letting you hang out with that little fruit Travis.”

“Trevor,” Bill quickly corrected, not knowing why he bothered.

“Whoever that pansy is, I didn’t raise you to be like that so get this fool idea out of that thick head of yours.” The man tapped his son’s temple roughly with his index finger.

“It’s not about being gay or wanting to be with boys,” Bill tried to explain. “It’s about what I feel I’m all about, dad. I’m just not meant to be a boy. Can’t you see that? You can’t be that blind.”

“Go to your damn room and pack your things,” William growled. “It’s off to military school for you. I will not let some kind of pansy live in this house. Go, before I rip your damn head off.”

Bill thought of standing his ground as his dad advanced, but his mother stepped in between them. “Bill,” she said firmly, “go to your room and thing about getting your fool head on straight. Now go, me and your father will talk and try to figure out the best thing to do.”

Bill hurried back to his room, but left the door open. He sat on his bed and listened to his parents, mostly his father, cream at each other. He could hear his dad cursing and ranting.

He shook his head as the memory faded and he looked at Trevor .

“I figured your mom would be on your side in this,” Trevor said in a comforting tone. “But heteros are such a stubborn bunch.”

Bill giggled in a most girlish way that was second nature to him, though if pressed he would admit it did come with some practice. “My mom doesn’t take stands for things, just goes along with whatever popular belief is trendy. Dad says I can rejoin the family once I get a hair cut.”

“Oh no, don’t,” Trevor said dramatically as he ran his hand over the long ponytail. It’s much too pretty to give it up to that ogre. Anyway,” Trevor bored of the depressing topic. “Let’s hear the positives. What are you planning to do with the holiday? Going to find you a boyfriend or plan on buying Sarah any special gifts.”

Bill smiled and crinkled his nose. “I’m going to get me a cunny right after school.”

“Oh hush,” Trevor admonished. “We both know you don’t have the money for surgery and you already explained to me how you had to be eighteen just to be considered.”

“Not a real one, silly.” Bill giggled again, then put his hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t draw attention. “This one’s made out of rubber or plastic or something. Anyway, you put it on over the boy part that doesn’t belong and viola, instant girl.”

“Girl, you are too much. So, how much is this contraption going to cost?”

“Three hundred dollars, but it’s more than worth it. This way I’ll know what it’s like really being Sarah, the full way.”

Trevor shook his head. “As long as it makes you happy. So who is going to pick it up, Sarah or Bill?”

“I’m going as Sarah, right after school. I got my clothes in my locker so I don’t have to head back home. I’ll change on the way.”

Trevor smiled. “At least it’s a step in the right direction, I suppose.”

“So, can I come over on Christmas day,” Bill expertly changed the subject while composing his giddiness. “We can exchange presents then.”

“Sarah may come over,” Trevor said as pointedly as he could. “My dad likes her anyway from your last visit.”

Bill suppressed a laugh. “That’s because he wants us to hook up, I think.”

“Doubt that,” Trevor said his much practiced line with style. “I think it’s because you’re a hottie and he swings both ways. Me, I ‘m gay and you, you’re a girl. The equation doesn’t mix. I like penises and that includes my own. You don’t want nothing to do with yours.”

“It’s not a proper thing for a young lady to have. So you think your dad’s willing to break me in.” Bill raised his eyebrow in a suggestive manner and smiled so large that his dimples showed.

“You’re too much, girl,” Trevor playfully slapped his friend on the forearm. “So I take it that I’m still banished from the great Lord William’s humble estate. It’s a shame, it really is.”

“Oh, him again.” Bill rolled his eyes dramatically. “I think my dad blames you for me being who I really am. He has trouble accepting the facts of life. The ban won’t go on forever, it just takes my dad time to come to terms with things like this.”

“Hopefully one day your dad will see the light,” Trevor comforted.

The final bell rang, releasing the few students that remained from their scholastic prison to their winter recess.

“I’ll see you Sunday,” Bill said while rising from his seat. “I’ll dress up pretty for your dad.”

Trevor took Bill by the hands as they stood by the door. “Just hang in there Sarah, things will get better between you and your dad. Like you said, he just needs time to adapt.” Trevor gave Bill a kiss on the cheek, much to the chagrin of the teacher.

“Thanks,” Bill whispered as he parted. He made his way down the almost empty halls and ,by the time he made it to his locker, the school was free of all students and most of the staff. He ran through the combination on his lock slowly, buying extra time for stragglers to also leave. The lock opened and Bill pulled out a blue denim skirt that he had for well over a year. He gently fingered the thick coarse material as he thought back on the day he purchased it.

A fourteen year old Bill walked into the local Kohl’s. The boy, all of four foot-eight, stopped to pretend to look at some knickknacks in the house wares section as he plotted his next course. He took a deep cleansing breath. There was a mission he’d set out to accomplish and unlike the previous two days, there was something he was going to buy.

Bill decided it would be in his best interest to go the long way around to the girls’ department. The day before, a Sunday, there were too many people he knew to complete the mission incognito. To the teens ire, he had to abort and wait for friendlier conditions. Today the toy section was empty, save for a lone toddler who would surely not cause any trouble when Bill started high school in the up coming weeks. The electronics section was free and clear as well, all the popular boy hideouts were checked and Bill could take care of business.

The girls’ section was not that far off from the electronic. Bill passed a row of purses, casually perusing them, trying to look as if he belonged even though a small part nagged that he didn’t. He always made a point to look at such clothing whenever he shopped with his parents and could break away, but this time was the first that he planned to make a purchase.

The skirt section, one of them actually, for there were several circular racks offering different styles, was where Bill eventually wound up. He thumbed through the denim skirts, looking for something to start the wardrobe of Sarah. A dark blue denim skirt with a thick tan belt and an intricate stitch design going down the side panels finally caught the boy’s eyes. He tried to find his size, but the numbering was much different than anything he’d ever seen prior to then.

“Pardon me,” a voice said behind the teen. “Is there something that I can help you with?”

Bill turned around, wondering if the voice was friendly or condescending. He saw a taller, older lady with curly blonde hair and the apron that said that she worked for the store. The teen wondered if he should back out of what he was doing and make some sort of excuse like “just looking for something for my sister.” A sister he didn’t have. In the split second he had to respond, he chased the idea away and figured there was nothing much to lose.

“I’m looking for a skirt for me,” Bill said, not even attempting to disguise his voice because that really wasn’t necessary. He stared at the woman, looking for any sign of disapproval or revulsion.

“Are there any that you like,” the woman asked without missing a beat. “We have a wide selection and some on the other side of the pants wall, even though they’re more designed for us older folks. I know how particular young people can be about such things.”

Bill smiled. “Actually, I like this one,” he said as he pulled one from the rack. “It’s just that I’m really not sure of what size I should get. I never went clothes shopping for myself before.”

“There always has to be a first time. Skirts work off the same sizes of dresses. Do you know your dress size.”

“No ma’am. I never wore a dress before,” Bill stated, afraid he was giving up way too much information.

The woman didn’t even bat an eyelash. “I’m sure you did as a little girl, you probably just don’t remember. But, it looks like you’re ready to give up your Tomboy stage, which is a good thing. What size pants do you wear?”

Bill beamed and blushed slightly. After all the teasing that he took during Junior High for being so pathetic as a boy, he never truly realized it translated for being quite normal for a girl. “I’m a size 22, boys,” he answered, playing like he had to think about it.

The lady ruffled through a few skirts and pulled one out. This one should do,” she said as she handed the garment to the child. “You’ll want to check of course. The dressing room is right this way.”

Bill held onto the skirt and followed the woman. Dressing in the store was never part of the original plan, but now he was trapped. He resolved to make the purchase saw him through as he walked into the cubby of a room showing no fear. He removed his jeans over his high top sneakers and put on the skirt easy enough. It fit around his waist perfectly and as he twisted around, making the material flap around him, the strange sense that buying such an article of clothing was such the right thing to do came over him.

“How’s it look,” Bill asked the lady as he opened the door to the dressing room and sheepishly grinned at her. “It fits really good.”

The woman smiled. “It’s you, really it is. Girls should wear skirts more often and separate themselves from the barbarians. Doesn’t it feel nice to be in something feminine?”

Bill almost fainted on the spot. If she only knew, he thought deviously. “It most certainly does,” he gushed.

“May I give you a little bit of advice though,” the woman said in almost a whisper.

For a moment Bill thought the gig was up. “What’s that?” he asked cautiously.

“If you’re going to wear a pretty skirt, I would lose the ugly Air Jordan’s,” she said as if it were really a big secret. “Besides, you’re a cute little thing and you shouldn’t try to hide your feminine side.”

Bill smiled at the memory as he returned his attention to the here and now. He didn’t plan on hiding his girl’s side today, at least from this moment in time going forward.

He never dressed at school before, but figured since no one was around to see him he could get away with it. Bill correctly figured everyone else would be rushing to get their vacation on the way. He slid the skirt over his beige Chinos and zipped it closed from behind. He then took his sneakers and pants off, revealing the think, green, Christmas themed tights he was wearing all day. Next came the cute little black boots that Bill knew Sarah simply must have. They zipped up easily and felt less clunky than the Nikes he had to endure throughout the day. Finally he put on a thick green sweater, the only one that could make the tights work with the skirt. The center panel over what should be his breast had the same images of candy canes and wrapped presents as the tights and the two garments almost looked like they were purchased as a set.

Bill grabbed his winter coat and felt strange walking through the school as Sarah. But, at the same time, he also felt relieved. He felt he was finally being like his true self; her true self. Like she was no longer living a lie. Bill made his way to the very last bathroom in the school and ducked in to add the finishing touches to Sarah, and for that he was extremely happy.

In front of the mirror in the poorly lit bathroom, Bill looked at his reflection while unzipping his makeup pouch. In a few moments he would be fully Sarah, or so that is what he told himself. Bill removed the hair tie that kept his tight ponytail in place for the day. He ran a brush through his long brown locks, parting his hair in the middle and sporting a more girlish look. He smiled that the transformation looked so complete. If someone were to walk in they would think he was in the wrong restroom. Bill applied some lipstick, a dark red that wasn’t overly glossy, and a light pink blush. He blew himself a kiss in the mirror, put on the thick tan winter coat that had faux-fur around the fringes, and made his way to the door. He checked both ways and was relieved no one saw him vacate the boys’ bathroom the way he was dressed.

Outside was bitterly cold, but Bill was warmed by the fact that he was going to buy the thing he’d saved his money for four months in order to get. They were four months of baby sitting and house cleaning, he couldn’t think of any joy more appropriate to earn the ultimate symbol of his femininity through. He walked through the streets, not one person gave him a second glance and Bill took that as further proof that he was completely passable as Sarah. He was heading to a novelty shop that also contained an adult bookstore in the back for those interested in such things. The owner there knew all about Bill, even seemed to be extremely turned on by the notion of what Sarah was, and agreed to make a discrete sale via the back exit. The man originally offered the item free of charge in return for a few favors, but Bill stated that he wasn’t that kind of girl. The proprietor was still hopeful for something in the future and made the arrangements to get the item.

Bill was actually flattered by the offer. To think that he was considered sexy enough to have someone want to take pictures of hem ‘en femme’ was a new revelation. The fact that the man also wanted to have sex with him was also exciting, but at the same time, a very frightening proposition that Bill was not yet ready for. The proposal had an interesting and positive side effect though, it made Bill sit down and really take inventory of what kind of person he and Sarah wanted to be. He thought of that while trudging through the cold. He knew he was a girl. How he knew, he wasn’t quite certain. Sex was a part of the equation, he supposed, but he was hoping that Sarah could find her knight in shining armor and be whisked off her feet. He figured that was also every other young girls’ dream.

Bill turned down the last street he needed to. The wind blew a little bit harder, as if foreboding. It wasn’t the best part of town to be in, but it was still light out and he didn’t feel threatened. In the middle of the block sat ‘Kinky Pete’s Adult Bookstore,’ as Bill called it in jest. The real name of the store was Candy Apples and contained as much novelty and joke/gag items as any prankster could want. He knew of Pete and the store by sheer luck, if a person could call it that. One day he happened to be shopping at the mall and got stopped by some ‘scout’ for a modeling agency. Bill told the man he was a boy and didn’t think so, and went on his way avoiding the scam. Pete overheard the exchange and tracked the teen down. For some reason Bill didn’t find the man completely repulsive, even though the words “sexy young thing” came up quite a lot. Even though Bill wasn’t too keen on porn, he couldn’t fault the guy for earning a living and kept the strictly, at least on his part, platonic relationship going. Never once did Pete cross that line physically, even though he made it a point to ask certain things every now and again. The bright pink and green façade and neon lights did nothing to obscure the store’s existence, but that was the point. Bill made his way towards the business establishment, peered through the window, and knew, that since he saw the rare customer, that he’d have to wait. He walked over to the side of the building where the ally was that lead to the rear of the store. It was still colder than even and Bill clasped the coat tighter around him. For a moment he wondered if wearing a skirt was really such a good idea. Though he was only five foot- four, he’d grown a full five inches taller since he last wore the skirt. Now, what was once modest was now a little risque, but with the thick tights he didn’t suppose that mattered very much.

A car horn sounded two quick polite beeps and that got Bill’s attention. He looked up and saw a grey, late model sedan with lightly tinted windows. The aging gentleman behind the wheel was discreetly waving the teenager over.

Bill hesitantly walked over to the car, figuring, if nothing else, it would waste some time. “You beeped,” he said softly.

“Aren’t you a cute one,” the man behind the wheel said while eying the sight before him as if Bill was on display.

“Thank you,” Bill blushed involuntarily. “But, there’s more to meet the eye with me,” he continued as a way to end the conversation.

The man smiled. “What’s that? You got a little sausage between your thighs,” he said crudely.

Bill laughed at the way the man worded things. “I suppose that’s one way you could put it.”

“I think that’s so hot,” the man said as he stared at Bill’s crotch, then slowly licked his top lip provocatively.

“You’re not the only one to say such a thing,” Bill said, not coming off as modest as he hoped.

“What’s your name, cutie? The girl name you use?” The man leaned over the passenger seat to get closer.

“Sarah,” Bill replied confidently, even though the man was making him feel uneasy.

“So Sarah, how much for a little roll in the hay?” The man raised his eyebrows twice. “You can show me how much of a girl you really want to be.”

Bill was appalled and wanted to get away. “A thousand bucks,” he said sourly, figuring the high number would drive the creep away. The teen started to back away. If the guy wasn’t going to end the conversation, then he would.

Before he could remove his arm from the window, the man’s hand was tightly around Bill’s wrist. The boy squealed loudly. “Not so fast,” the man said as he flashed a badge. “You, my dear, are under arrest. I suggest you get in and not put up a fight.”

Bill stood there in shock and was on the verge of tears. “Arrest?” He stammered. “For what?”

“Solicitation and prostitution,” the officer said bluntly. “Now get in.”

“But I’m not a prostitute,” Bill said while crying. “It was you asking, I just wanted to get away.”

The cop shook his head. “Tell it to the prosecutor later. Maybe he’ll buy your sad sob story. And a thousand bucks, woo boy, you must really think you’re some hot stuff in bed.”

Bill said nothing as he was driven three blocks away where other, more conventional police cars waited. He was read his rights and put in a cruiser before being hauled off to lock-up.