A Pinkilicious Birthday - Part 2

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Sequel to It's A Fluffy Pink Christmas

Part 2 -Calm before calamity

After searching for the key to the apartment for a third time, I finally found it under my math workbook. Even though it had a clip to go on my belt-loop I never did keep it there, for some reason it bothered me. As I slid the key into the door I thought of how handy it would be to have a purse. I don't mean one of those big purses that contained every item a woman ever owned, but like a small clutch purse that would be big enough to hold my keys and the little bit of money I found myself with and maybe even a brush. It was amazing how often I now thought of girl things and girl accessories, I was becoming consumed by it. The experience of being Katie, no, I corrected myself. The experience of being my true self had left a mark on me that wouldn't go away.

I slid the key into the tumbler and made my way down the hall that led to my apartment. It was just three o'clock and my aunt wouldn't be home until almost five.

I walked into the apartment and put my book bag on the chair in the kitchen where it belonged. The first thing I did was take out that blasted note and put it on the kitchen table where my aunt would see it. I knew the consequences would be dire if I threw the note away or hid it and if I was going to be in trouble, I didn't want to compound it further.

"What did I do wrong," I whined as I looked up to heaven. "I handed in all my homework, my test scores have been better, I haven't gotten into any fights or talked back to the teacher; not even once. Mrs. Round couldn't have known about Mr. Mayo keeping me from going by the girls, and even if she did, I did what I was told to do. I wonder if that Mary made up a lie about me. Maybe she told Mrs. Round that I hit her or stole something."

The worst part of the situation was the not knowing what my teacher wanted to see my Aunt about. Lucky for me, my all-white cat, Mirage, realized I was home and was brushing up against my leg. It was a welcome distraction to pick up my kitty and hold him in my arms. He purred and nuzzled against my neck as I scratched his ear.

I walked into the living room, to the place where all the Christmas magic began. The tree was taken down a few weeks ago and all the holiday decorations were packed away in our bin in the basement, not to be seen for another eleven months. Part of me wondered if maybe I had imagined such a wonderful time; that maybe Christmas day was so dreamlike because it was really a dream. I still had my ColecoVision, it was hooked up to the television, but I was all Donkey Konged out. That and every time I played, I wanted the option to be the captured princess instead of Mario.

I sat on the couch, still holding my cat, but letting him lay on my chest where he seemed comfortable. I would've turned on the TV but my interest in Tom and Jerry wasn't as great as it once was and though some of the soaps were interesting, I couldn't keep up with the constant changing story lines.

I picked up the phone and dialed the number to Wyckoff Heights Hospital. It was one of the three numbers I had memorized and each one would always connect me to the same person; my Aunt.

"Wyckoff Heights Hospital," the voice said on the other end, and I immediately recognized it as my Aunt's friend Alan.

"Can I speak to Aunt Roe please," I said as politely as I could.

"A call for Aunt Roe," I heard Alan say mockingly in the background. They always seemed to get a kick out of when I called. It only took a few seconds until a second line picked up.

"Hello, you," my Aunt said jovially.

"Hi Aunt Roe," I said back, but unable to match the enthusiasm knowing about the note on the kitchen table. "I'm back from school."

"Did you have a good day?" My aunt always asked me that question.

"It was okay, a lot of learning," I answered.

"That's good, that's what school is for," my Aunt pointed out the obvious. "So, any plans for the day until I get home.'

"It's a little cold, so I think I'll just stay in and do my homework."

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" My aunt asked.

"Aunt Roe," I whined. "I feel fine."

I heard my Aunt laugh. "Just checking. I'm stopping at the store and should be home a little later than usual. Want any thing special?"

A dress and some nice shoes, my mind yelled at me to say. "Not really," I answered, figuring if I asked for something special and wound up being in trouble then things would go twice as badly.

"Okay, see you when I get home."

"Bye," I said and then hung up the phone. I peeked at the clock and saw that I would have two hours to myself.

I walked over to the closet and slid it open. In the far corner was the Maroon dress that I wore on Christmas, the only evidence that the day had happened. I ran my fingers over the silky material and closed my eyes. The fabric felt so smooth, so cool, so wonderful between my thumb and forefinger, the feeling was almost heavenly and I knew it felt better when I was wearing it that Christmas day.

"I wish I may, I wish I might," I recited out loud. "That Christmas never ended and I could be Little Katie forever."

I had half a mind to put the dress on, but knew that I would need help with the zipper and without the other accessories, I would've felt incomplete.

I slowly closed the closet door, hiding the dress from view in the vain hopes that the phrase 'out of sight, out of mind' was actually true.

"Oh, what the hell," I said to myself out loud. "You're alone, you got two hours, by yourself for Pete sake."

I tried to let go of that nagging part of my conscience that told me to act like a boy and give into my natural tendencies. It wasn't easy at all, I had been listening to that voice for almost eight years and was use to obeying it. But I didn't care anymore, it was either be myself for the few hours before my aunt got home or find some rope to make a noose out of.

I skipped off to my bedroom, feeling almost giddy. It felt strangely comforting as I bounced through the apartment, my long hair tickling my neck and shoulders. For once I was glad that my aunt didn't have me get a haircut, even though she may have mentioned it a week ago.

In my room I pulled off my slacks and folded them onto the bed. The shirt that I wore to school was long enough to come down to my thighs and even though it was a far cry from a dress, I would make due. Though I should've taken them off first, I removed my bulky high top tennis shoes and put the neatly under the bed.

The outfit I now wore, a long shirt, boy underwear, and crew length socks, was a far cry of being feminine, but it was at least an improvement over what I did have on. I wished I had something girlish that wasn't fancy like the dress in the closet. Lately at school I had been making note as to what girls' my age were wearing; pretty jumpers and denim dresses were my particular favorites and I would do anything to have some of those options available to me now.

Instead of concentrate on the things that I couldn't change, I decided to make due with what I had. Part of me figured it wasn't the outward trappings of being a girl that mattered anyway, but how I felt on the inside. During winter many girls wore jeans and sweaters and that didn't make them any less female than what I felt my true self was. With that resolve I felt that annoying little voice that tried to tell me that I needed to act like a man fade, and I felt my true self emerge.

"Come on, Katie," I said to myself out loud. I could already hear how soft and sweet my voice became and I wasn't even trying. "Let's do our homework while we still have our smart girl brain intact."

I giggled at how silly my comment was as I made my way back to the kitchen.

I sat down at the kitchen table and took out my three items of homework and prepared to start. All I had to do was write my spelling words five times each, do a math work sheet, and finish a reading comprehension exercise. Even with concentrating on being as neat as I could with my penmanship and checking my math answers twice, homework only took me forty five minutes, giving me plenty of time for myself.

There really was only one thing that I wanted to do, it was something that I was doing often when no one was around. I walked to the living room and pulled out the giant JC Penny's catalogue. In the past I would look at just the toys and the electronics and dream of having every little gadget one could imagine, but now I went to two new places. I had been going to girls fashion so often lately that the big book practically opened up to the pages that contained dresses automatically.

"Oh Katie," I said to myself wistfully. "If this was a perfect world, half of these would already belong to you."

Though I enjoyed looking at the fancy dresses, with all the frilly lace, bows and panty hose; I also enjoyed going through the everyday wear as well. I knew that if I was outwardly the girl I was on the inside that I wouldn't be dressing up like a princess every day. The thing was, even the ordinary, every day girl things gave me a sense of yearning. Even looking at the undergarments was met with a sense of awe and wanting.

I closed my eyes and imagined myself in a plain white camisole and matching panties with a little bit of lace trim along the openings for my legs. In my minds eyes I pictured my body exactly how it was now, except the panties wouldn't have the unsightly bulge that my diminutive penis would create. As an eight year old, I didn't know what exact curves and crevices a girls body made while wearing tight panties and a firm camisole; in that I was completely naive. I know I heard other boys at school say where boys have a stick, girls have a hole, but I really didn't no the technicalities of such so I just pictured my body as being completely flat, having absolutely nothing between my legs and having no development in my chest. It didn't matter anyway, the vision made me happy.

As I stared at a picture of a girl in a leotard, I imagined it was me and inside my head I swayed back and forth and twirled. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if you could take dance," I said to myself, even though I didn't know of a place that taught dance lessons.

I smiled as I flipped back and forth between the pages of fashions meant for girls my age, picking out various items that I wish I had owned. I guess I did the same thing when I was in boy mode, except when I viewed the book as Keith I was picking out tape recorders and video game systems. As Katie I was picking out dresses and tights, and I found the process even more enjoyable. I envisioned how each choice would look on me, and how it would feel to be wearing such lovely items.

I let out a sigh, even just imaging such things made me feel a warmth radiating out from my belly.

I then turned to the next section which was my new favorite. It was actually a particular page that had a picture of a cute boy my age that was dressed up in a suit. He had short blonde hair that was combed back and the bluest eyes imaginable and I had named him John.

"Hello, John," I said to the picture as I blushed and turned away.

"I'm doing wonderful," I continued my pretend conversation. "Thank you for asking."

"Oh, I'm not the prettiest girl in the whole world," I said trying to sound humble.

I giggled as I imagined the picture of the boy saying that I was a close second.

"What? You want a kiss? Well I guess so," I said, trying to play coy to my imaginary boyfriend.

I leaned in and gave the picture a peck on the lips. I could still remember the kiss I had gotten from Henry on Christmas day and how totally wonderful that made me feel. Of course, not even being eight yet, my kisses were no where near passionate. It was just all sweet, innocent pretend, but I found myself longing for it be reality more and more.

I decided to put the catalogue away before I ruined it and someone guessed what I was up to when they weren't around. I didn't think I could offer up any decent explanations on why I would kiss any picture, none the less that of a boy.

Knowing that time was running out, I decided to put on a pair of pajama bottoms, there was no chance that I would be going outside anymore that day and with my Aunt already going to the store, I knew she wouldn't be asking me to go to Cherry Valley, the grocery store on the corner.

All I could do was bide my time. I turned on the stereo and listened to Z100 at a moderate volume. I actually was enjoying myself as I sang along to Endless Love and Playing With the Queen of Hearts. I knew I didn't have the best voice in the world, but I was by myself and sang for the pure joy of it.

After a few songs I heard the door to the apartment open and turned off the stereo. I made my way quickly to the kitchen to see my aunt holding a few bags. She looked tired, like the day was as long for her as it was for me.

"Hi Aunt Roe," I said as cheerfully as I could.

"Hi Keith." My aunt smiled at me as she handed me a bag that contained lettuce and tomatoes. "How was your day?"

I walked over to the refrigerator. "It was okay, I guess. You know, just school and all. Nothing really happened. How about you?" Asking my aunt about her day was actually a new thing for me that I picked up after I was Katie for Christmas. I suppose I realized that life wasn't all about me and genuinely caring about others made me feel good.

"It was alright, I suppose. It was a little busy in the morning from things backing up over the weekend, but not that bad."

"I guess busy can be good, this way your not bored," I said as I put the vegetables in the crisper.

My aunt smiled.

"Um, Aunt Roe," I said, fumbling with my words but knowing I had something I needed to tell my aunt no matter how much I didn't want to.

"Yes, Keith." My aunt stopped putting boxes in the cabinets and turned towards me.

"Mrs. Round, she, um, she kind of sent a note home with me."

My aunt shook her head and let out a slow, even breath. "Is there anything you want to tell me before I read the note."

"Um, I love you," I said at a loss of what to say.

My aunt laughed. "Okay, let me see the note."

I grabbed the note from off the kitchen table and brought it to my aunt. Part of me wished I would've just thrown it away and just hoped the teacher would've just forgot about the planned meeting.

My aunt carefully opened the letter and pulled it out from the envelope. "Last change," she said while looking at me. "Are you sure there's nothing that you want to tell me? You know, it's much better that I hear it from you."

"I know, but I didn't do nothing," I said defensively.

"Okay," my aunt said in an overly elongated fashion, as if to give me some time to change my mind. She took an extra few seconds to unfold the paper and then read the note from the teacher.

I stood there watching my aunt, trying to see if I saw any displeasure or anger in her face. My aunt's expression didn't betray any emotion as she folded the note and placed it neatly back in the envelope.

"What did it say?" I finally asked impatiently.

"Mrs. Round would like to see me first thing in the morning to address some concerns that she has about you," my Aunt said simply. "Is there anything going on at school that I need to know about?"

I immediately thought about the episode at lunch time when Mr. Mayo told me to not hang around the girls, but I was almost positive that the issue wasn't that and decided not to divulge that information. "I thought I was doing real good at school since we got back from Christmas," I said in a downcast voice. "I even got a 95 on my last spelling test and a hundred on my math test."

My aunt walked over to me and put her arm around me. "It's okay Keith, the note didn't say anything about you being in trouble, so maybe it's nothing bad."

"A note from the teacher is never good, any kid can tell you that."

My aunt gave me an extra tight squeeze. "No matter what, it will be okay and I will always love you. Okay?"

I gave a strained smile. "Okay."

"Now, do you want to help me prepare dinner or do you want to play video games?"

In the past, the answer would've been obvious that I would want to play video games, but for the past few weeks I had been consistently choosing helping out in the kitchen and felt I finally wasn't getting in the way. "What are we making?"

My aunt smiled. "Chicken cutlets."

"Yummy," I said with the love of life returning to my voice. "My favorite."

"I know."

It was always dangerous to tell my aunt something was your favorite. As an almost eight year old kid I hadn't quite yet caught on to the perils of uttering such a statement. My aunt had this slight quirk about her that when she heard you enjoyed a meal, she made it. I don't mean she made it once in a while, or once a week; no, she made it every day until it was no longer your favorite and you began to hate it. I should've known better because when I was four I innocently said I loved bologna and cheese and by the time I was helping my aunt in the kitchen, just the sight of the lunch meat made me queasy.

My aunt tied a little pink and white apron around me that came down to my knee. The apron was originally my cousin Jennifer's but it somehow made it over to my house and now I got to use it. I didn't tell my aunt how much I loved wearing the little smock; it was so cute. Not only did it protect me from spills in the kitchen, but the front side made it look like I was wearing a dress and it was the closest thing I came to wearing something I wanted since Christmas.

"Chef Keith," my aunt said as if the pending meeting with my teacher was the furthest thing from her mind. "Please grab two eggs from the fridge."

I was obedient in what my aunt asked me and she placed a bowl on the kitchen table for me. I felt so grown up when she let me crack the egg on the side of the bowl and emptied out the yoke. My aunt made sure no pieces of shell made it into the wash and this time I was completely successful in doing the task perfectly.

"You're getting good at this," my aunt praised.

My smile couldn't get any bigger. "I have a good teacher."

My aunt shook my long hair with her hand. She then poured some 4C breadcrumbs into a dish and opened up a package of chicken. "Okay, just like I showed you last time."

I pulled a piece of chicken from the package. It was so slimy that I only held it with my thumb and forefinger. I gently placed the chicken into the egg wash and flipped it over so that it was sufficiently covered and even ickier than before. Next I put the chicken on the bread crumbs and coated the entire chicken cutlet before placing the finished product on a separate plate. I repeated the process five more times and was done. My aunt then mixed the remaining bread crumbs with egg wash and made two breadcrumb balls, probably not the most healthy thing to eat, but very tasty.

My Aunt fried the chicken cutlets, I was still a bit too young and short to be using the stove and she preferred staying on the safe side of things, probably from seeing so many accidents working at the hospital. I stood on a step stool and washed my hands of the breadcrumb mixture as I watched her cook at a safe distance. I loved hearing the pop and sizzle of the grease and smelling the aroma of fresh cooking fill our apartment. It only took a few minutes before everything was cooked and my aunt and I enjoyed a meal together.

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. My aunt and I were not real social butterflies and spent most nights watching television, occasionally making a comment about what we were looking at. It was Monday, so we got to watch 'TV's Bloopers and practical jokes,' which made us laugh as we watched our favorite actors flub lines.

After the end of the show it was time for me to go to bed. Since I was already in my pajama bottoms, all I had to do was add the top and then climb into bed. Though I wasn't consciously thinking about tomorrows pending parent-teacher meeting while watching television, as I tried to drift off to sleep that was all that was on my mind.

"Just what did I do?" I asked myself as I lost consciousness.



TO BE CONTINUED

PLEASE COMMENT

Author's note: Still doing a lot more setup work then in the proceeding story, but I am hoping this adds to the development rather than detracts. This whole piece of work is hinging on one scene I have in my mind that moves the story back aboard the S.S. fluffy.

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Comments

A Pinkilicious Birthday - Part 2

You have me wondering if her Aunty will get mad at her.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Aunt Roe and Katie/Keith set for school

Katie's handwriting is neater than Keith's

What's the news awaiting them at school.

Katie is fitting a hard fight, the feelings of being a girl
should not be locked away in shame, or left to those who requires Keith to be like other boys.

Does one need to become a girl to have feelings like many girls
Makes no more sense than a girl having to sign onto the mentality of being like a boy

School should be tied to the interest of its student's not other people's agenda

Katie/Keith hopefully will find out who he/she is.

JessieC

Jessica E. Connors

Jessica Connors

Jesicac119

You may be jumping the gun. The school has no idea about Katie, nor does it know of Keith's desire to be a girl. In fact, the only hint of trouble at school may be the reaction of Mary, maybe she said something to get Keith in trouble.

Katie Leone (Katie-Leone.com)

Writing is what you do when you put pen to paper, being an author is what you do when you bring words to life

Good Chapter...

As you said, a lot of setup here with very little action. But I think we're learning a lot about Keith that should help us as things progress. (And you really have me wanting to know what the teacher wants.)

Eric

Note

My guess about the note is Katie/Keith has been showing signs of depression, and the teacher is worried.

Cooking

The kitchen scene reminded me of my life.(like all of your stories do) I'm a 14 year old boy but, I would love if my grandma taught me how to cook, even if she just taught me how to make mac n cheese. =P But, I'll sometimes bring it up but, I won't outright say, "you HAVE to teach me how to cook!" =P Because that would probably look weird.... =/