Joey's Joy -- Part 1

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Joey learns some unexpected life-lessons and finds out some unexpected things about himself along the way.

St. Paul’s

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I promise this is not going to be just another forced fem story, although there is this aspect to the story—my hope is that it will be a journey of discovery for Joey and that I can portray that journey adequately in the manner that I envision it. There will be some happy times and some sad times ahead—if you want, watch that journey with me as it unfolds.

I look at the clock on the wall for the hundredth time today. It has moved all of 90 seconds. I am officially going to die! This day is never going to end… I play with my pencil and groan silently to myself. I look at the math equations on the board and unsuccessfully fight a yawn…

“Joey! If you are not going to pay attention, then go and see Ms. Rogers…again! I swear, this is the fifth time this week and it is only Tuesday!” I startle as Ms. McMillan, my math teacher, sends me to the principal’s office. I sigh and wordlessly get up. I leave the room to the sniggering of the others in the classroom…

I wait outside Ms. Rogers’ office as she has a ‘conference’ with my mother. My dad is out of town on a business trip, not that that matters—Mom is a ‘stay-at-home’ mom and is the one that always gets called to these meetings…

I guess a bit of background would be good at this point… Let me introduce myself; I am Joey Rousseau. I am fifteen and in tenth grade. I have a younger sister, Amy, who is 14, and a younger brother, Josh, who is ten. There is not a lot else to say, really. We live in a boring backwards town where I attend a boring backwards school. I am not a bad kid, really—I am just bored all of the time. School is just so boring. My grades are good but I am seemingly always in trouble anyway; even though I am not really doing anything to warrant it. The teachers just seem to think I am not paying attention—it is just that I am bored to death…

There is not really anything for me to do around here that is in any way stimulating. I am a scrawny kid for fifteen; my dad tells me that runs in the family. It seems that he did not hit puberty until he was almost eighteen. The only consolation is that when puberty does hit men in our family, it hits with a vengeance. My dad is quite well built and loves going to the gym. He does not push me to go, though, knowing how it feels to be a ‘late bloomer’. My mom is gorgeous—it seems puberty is not issue on her side of the family unless you consider full-blown curves for girls at fourteen an issue. Amy is a testament to that; she could put many eighteen-olds to shame. Mom is also quite smart, but elected to put any career options aside after she got pregnant with me at sixteen. In this town, women are expected to be good little housewives and take care of the kids, anyway, which is exactly my Dad’s way of thinking. He got a “man’s job” at eighteen when he married my pregnant mom and expected her to do her part for the family. Of course, all of this has shaped my views on gender, as well…

I startle again as the door to Ms. Rogers’ office opens and she beckons me in. Mom gives me that look and I shudder involuntarily. She has never lifted a finger against me but I hate disappointing her. She just shakes her head and says, “Why can’t you be like your sister and brother? They never give me any grief!” Ms. Rogers gives me a semi-encouraging smile and says, “Have a seat, Joey. I know that you are not trying to cause any grief. We have finally figured out what your ‘problem’ is. You really are bored with the material here because you are technically a genius. There is no sense in your continuing school here—we can’t challenge you.” I give her an incredulous look and then glance over at Mom, who is trying to hide a bit of pride that is none-the-less showing on her face. Ms. Rogers continues, “I have contacted my alma mater, St. Paul’s, and with the scores you achieved on that test I gave you last week, they are willing to give you a full academic scholarship.” I blink. St. Paul’s? But… I clear my throat and sort of squeak, “St. Paul’s? That’s a girl’s college!” Ms. Rogers smiles and shakes her head as she says, “No, not any more. They went co-ed this year. You will be one of their first male students—one of eight. You will be a couple of firsts for them, actually—first male scholarship recipient and first teenage genius of either gender. You have missed the first couple weeks of class, but that should not be a problem with your skills. The fact that they are on a different schedule than most colleges and started later is what means you won’t have to wait until next year, anyway. Your Mom is going to take you over there right now to enroll you and get your class schedule. Your options are limited because of your late enrollment, but that will be better next year. Good luck, Joey—or should I say Joseph now that you are a college man?” She grins and ushers Mom and me to the door…

I sit in the car, shell-shocked. So that is why it has been so boring for me…but college? And a girl’s one at that. Yeah, it may be co-ed now, but no one is going to see it that way. It will always be “Joey is going to a girl’s school!” I look over at Mom and gingerly ask, “Mom, is this really a good idea? Shouldn’t we wait on Dad, I mean? Won’t he be mad?” Mom gives me a sidelong glance and says, “You let me deal with your Dad. I missed out on a lot of good opportunities in life; college being one of them. You are getting a full academic ride—as long as you maintain your grades, which Ms. Rogers assures me won’t be a problem if you apply yourself. Your Dad is not one to value education like I do, but he is not going to argue with ‘free’. You had just better not embarrass me and drop out or anything…”

The rest of the two-hour ride to the campus is fairly quiet. I stew about how Dad is not going to like Mom meddling like this; it is not something she should be deciding—that is the man’s job… But, I know enough to keep quiet to Mom. Dad will get this mess straightened out. I only had one more boring year of school and then I could have dropped out and found a man’s job somewhere… At this rate, Amy will be married and have kids before I can even think about getting one… I also know that Mom has powers over Dad, ones I don’t understand—so, for now, until Dad rescues me, I decide to go along with this insanity and give it my best.

When we finally pull onto campus I can’t help but groan out loud. It is a strict Catholic campus and looks like something from Dracula’s revenge. The main building is old and made out of weathered stone. It is covered in ivy and gives me the shudders just looking at it. It must be lunch break because all I see are college girls milling around in the college’s uniform of a white blouse, burgundy scarf, dark grey skirt, and navy blue blazer. I glance around and see two guys standing by themselves, both considerably older than me, in dark grey pants with a white shirt, burgundy tie, and navy jacket. They look uncomfortable in their clothes, but are seemingly enjoying the ‘view’. There is also a mix of nuns and ‘civilian’ women mingling with the crowds. Mom interrupts my visual reconnaissance of the area and ushers me into the main building.

After a short meeting with the ‘Mother Superior’, who welcomes me, and three additional hours of administrative meetings and paperwork, I find myself in my dorm room. Since I was not expected, they did not have a room for me together with the other guys and I was on a different floor, at the end of a long hallway full of girls’ rooms. It is a handicap room, meaning that I don’t have to share and it has its own bathroom—so, that is a small consolation. Mom is putting my new uniforms and other clothes into the closet and I get pale as I realize that I have no idea how to tie a tie. She giggles and shows me. She giggles more at my incredulous look and says, “What? I have been watching your Dad do this every morning for over fifteen years. You don’t think I would pick up on how to do it?” After a little while longer, she hugs me and is out the door—leaving me to my uncertain fate.

At first I just sit there and stare at the door, then I finally pull out my schedule and sit down at my desk. I look around the room for the thousandth time. It is austere. Basically, it is a bunk, a simple desk and chair, a worn rug on the polished hardwood floor, and…a well-lit mirrored vanity. I shake my head at that and look down at my schedule. Ms. Rogers had been right—it is not anything that I would have normally chosen. I got into some good math classes, but the only history classes that were available were ‘Woman’s History 101’ and ‘Great Women of the World’, a special topics class, that was added to fill up my schedule. This is just great… Not only am I stuck in a girl’s school, but I am going to have to be subjected to how ‘great’ they are… I roll my eyes and notice that it is time to go down to supper.

I almost jump back into my room as soon as I open my door and enter the hallway. It is full of girls—in ‘normal’ clothes. The hall bathroom is at my end of the hallway—and is where all of the girls go. I am almost run over by a girl in a bathrobe hurrying out, her hair wrapped in a towel. She had obviously just taken a shower and a strong flowery scent follows her as she rushes by, giving me a surprised look as she does. Suddenly I am surrounded by girls asking all kinds of questions…

My ‘posse’ of girls escorts me to the dining hall where I am thankfully rescued by the guys. They are disappointed, though, that I am so young, so I know that I won’t be able to count on too much rescuing in the future… After I quietly eat, listening to the guys talk, I dejectedly walk back to my residence hall and up the five flights of stairs to my floor. I don’t even make it halfway down the hall to my room before I am pulled into a room full of giggling girls wanting to ‘know everything about me’… I answer what seems like a million personal questions and finally make it back to my room right at eleven, which is lights out.

The next morning, the alarm goes off and my heart pounds as I wake up to an unfamiliar room. When I finally remember where I am, I laugh at myself and get up to go shower. I dry off and get out one of the uniforms from my closet. I sit at the vanity and struggle with the tie, but finally get it knotted; well, sort of…. I shrug and hurry out into the hallway. It is empty and I look at my watch. Breakfast had started 15 minutes ago and I had been warned that if I missed it, it was a long time to lunch… I hurry to the dining hall and find a seat at a table that just has one girl sitting at it. She introduces herself as ‘Emily’ and giggles when she sees my tie. She finishes her bite of egg and says, “Silly! First, you shouldn’t put that on until after you eat and brush your teeth. Do you notice any of the guys with a tie—or the girls with their scarves on? She wipes her hands on her napkin and reaches and straightens my tie into a nice tidy knot. She shrugs and finishes the last bite of her egg. She gets up to leave and smiles as she says, “See you in class. I assume you have algebra first?” I nod and she hurries off.

Twenty minutes later, I enter the room where I am to have my first college class—algebra. I was told that this will be an easy class for me, but that I need to take it, since I had never had algebra before and need the foundation. I sit down towards the middle of the class and a few minutes later a flood of girls and a couple of the guys come in. I smile as I see Emily and she comes over and sits next to me. I am lost in class, at first, since I missed the first two weeks, but Emily points out a few things in the book and I quickly catch up. That is when I find out that Emily is three doors down from me and we decide to study together—she is a freshman, like me, and has several of the same classes that I do—including the women’s classes.

The rest of the day passes quickly and before I know it Emily and I are sitting in my room going over the day’s lessons. She quickly got comfortable in my room; she kicked her heels off, and is sitting on my bed quizzing me on some of the woman’s history stuff. Finally, I groan, “Why am I learning this stuff? This may be important for you, but I have no need for it.” She giggles and says, “What is the matter, Joey? Are you saying that women aren’t important?” I shrug and say, “No. That is not what I am saying at all. Women are important. Someone has to keep the home fires burning, right?” I see a flash of anger in her eyes and then just as quickly it is gone as she says, “Oh, you are teasing me. You rascal! I hope you aren’t truly chauvinistic—that won’t go over well at this college.” She giggles again and starts quizzing me some more.

When it is time to go get supper, she sits down at my empty vanity and turns on the light. She pulls a ton of makeup from her purse and starts working on ‘refreshing’ her face. While she is doing that, I sort of stare at her—she really is very pretty. She giggles again and asks, “What? You want to put some on, too?” I turn bright red and say very emphatically, “NO! Not at all! I am just wondering…well, I noticed all of you girls are made up to the nines here. You are all very pretty and always well-dressed—not a hair out of place. That just doesn’t fit in with how I thought it would be at a Catholic school, college or not.” She really giggles at that and says, “Silly! This college was founded to make women as successful as they can be. It is ingrained in the ethos here that you have to take care of yourself and look good to be successful. Did you not get the speech about staying well-dressed and groomed?” I roll my eyes and nod my head as she finishes putting on her lip gloss. She turns off the lights on the vanity and we go out into the throngs in the hallway to make our way to supper.

The next day is my first ‘Great Women of the World’ class. Mrs. Braun is the professor and pulls me aside as the other girls get to work on their projects—I am the only guy in this class. She explains to me that the purpose of this class is to turn in a research project and term paper on the important contributions to society by a woman of my choosing. My first deliverable is to pick my important woman and outline why I chose her—what are the attributes that made me think her worthy. She look at me and says, “This is due today and I cannot give you an extension as the rest of the term is dependent on this choice. I realize that it is short notice and the others have had a couple of weeks to decide, so I will give you a little leeway, but it needs to be a good-faith effort. I also realize that you did not really choose this class and probably never would, but remember that you have to pass this class to keep your scholarship…”

I go back to my seat and open my laptop. I google “Important Women” and get a long list of such women as Hillary Clinton, Margaret Thatcher, Madame Curie… I groan. I can’t put these forth, I could never make it seem like I believe it myself… I look back at the list of questions—“What are your person’s assets that make them important? What importance are they and to whom?...” The list goes on…then it hits me and I do another Google search before I start furiously typing. I email my paper to Mrs. Braun right as the class ends and sigh. She gives me a look as I leave the room and she does not look happy…

I get an email the next day to appear in the Mother Superior’s office. I groan and make my way at the appointed hour. Mrs. Braun is waiting in the room with her. I shrink a little. The Mother Superior tells me to come in, to close the door behind me, and to sit down. Mrs. Braun wastes no time in starting the berating, “Is this all a joke to you Mr. Rousseau? At this point, you are sitting at a square ‘F’ for my class. There is no way to pass now, I am afraid. You lost your scholarship on your second day here. That is quite the record to add to your ‘firsts’ here!” The Mother Superior looks grim but adds, “Do you have anything to say for yourself, Joey?” I blush and say, “I meant no disrespect, really! To me, Scarlet Johansen really is an important woman. OK, I am looking at it from a teenage boy’s point of view, but that is the only one I have. She was just awesome in the Avengers!” Mother Superior looks at me intensely and then turns to Mrs. Braun to say, “You know, Milly, he has a point.” She continues, ignoring Mrs. Braun’s blusters, “He comes from a town that views women like we are still in the 50’s. His Mom told me that his Dad is right there with that thinking. Plus, just because he is a genius doesn’t mean he is mature—we are used to mature young women, not immature brat boys. Maybe we should give him another chance—a way to earn some extra credit and pass your class if he takes it seriously and does well?” She takes Mrs. Braun into a side conference room and closes the door, leaving me to myself for several minutes. Finally, they both come back in. Mother Superior looks at me and says, “Joey, are you willing to do what it takes to get back into good academic standing at this college? Mrs. Braun has agreed to my proposal…and so has your Mom.” My heart jumps at that one…Mom will KILL me if I get thrown out and Dad is still gone so I can’t expect help from him… I timidly nod, not even asking…

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As the story progresses, please remember that this is fiction. I am not in any way holding myself to reality, just ‘near’ reality. I am in no way endorsing some of the actions in this story as realistic, so please don’t get upset if some things happen that should not really ever happen in true life—at least not in a responsible environment. They are only meant to help the flow of this fictional story and should not be taken seriously.

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Comments

Somehow I see a turn on the

Somehow I see a turn on the other side of the fence in Joey's immediate future. Guess his new friend Emily might be able to help him out in becoming the new her.

This is great

I like stories that are a little off reality. Let your imagination go and I will love every minute of it. If it is too far off reality we can call it the (JOEY UNIVERSE) where reality is just a shade to the left.

'Near" reality stories...

can be lotsa fun! There are times when a story goes so far from what I'm expecting to happen, that I have trouble following it. Most of the time, so long as there's enough internal consistency, I'm able to set at least some of my expectations aside, and just enjoy the ride. :)