The Class of Twenty-Twelve -2-

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The Class of Twenty-Twelve

Part Two, by Michelle Wilder

"But isn't it weird, I mean.... That I have... makeup on?"
"Not in a girl's school."

---

At supper, Robert watched his two children.

Lynda sat close by her brother, so different since she'd moved home from college, touching him often. Craig touched her too, but he did it more deliberately, or maybe he just wasn't as good at making it seem accidental or casual. He could see how much Craig needed to touch, and how happy Lynda was to be there for him.

She reminded him of when they'd been tiny, when she was a big six or seven or eight-year old girl, so proud of her baby brother, defending him, rescuing him from little falls or the bumps and scrapes of life. How proud she'd been when he reached the little milestones she barely remembered from a few years before.

He watched her gentle touch on his arm while he answered something Margaret had mentioned, and the little flicker of happiness Lynda showed... just at... her brother.

Robert knew the stinging in his eyes was normal emotion, and that tears weren't always for grief, or anger, or sadness. No matter he had felt all of those so much lately. But he was still surprised to find himself almost crying, just for love.

----

Craig and Lynda whispered about his day, waiting for their father to come in to sit with them, the way he did. She asked him to roll over and she snuggled tightly against his back and nestled her face into his hair and neck, sharing his pillow.

"You had some makeup on this afternoon...."

He stiffened, and she kissed his neck and hugged his back tight to her breasts. "Shhh. It's okay. I was just wondering."

"Karen... one of the girls, she said I looked terrible and..."

"Were you crying?" As soon as she said it she wanted to explain it was okay, that she wasn't ashamed, that he should. And then what made him cry, if someone hurt him....

"I was talking with the counsellor and I guess it showed...."

"It's okay..." She waited a breath or two. He breathed too, calming down, losing the tension.

"So she helped a bit?" He nodded.

"That's nice." She snuggled into him just a tiny bit more, to feel better.

-

When their father came, Lynda watched his face in the dim light and thought about how it wouldn't matter to him one bit if his son had makeup on so he could look better or feel safer. And about what she'd seen at supper.

-

When he touched Craig's face, after his breathing slowed, Lynda put her hand there too.

"I love you, Daddy."

He smiled at her in the dark and moved his hand so it was on top of hers. "I love you too, Cookie. Thank you. You're a very good big sister."

-

He sat on her side of the bed until she fell asleep, too.

----

Before he was ready to head down for breakfast Lynda looked closely at her brother's face and then directed him into her bedroom.

"Karen was right...." She dug in her purse and thought that she'd have to toss most of the stuff she still had in her vanity, it was so old. "Here." She pulled out the little tube of liquid makeup. "We're about the same skin type so this'll be even better...."

When she looked up he was confused, so she explained. "Karen was right, what she said," she smiled. "You look like you're getting over two black eyes." She twisted open the tube.

"This is liquid concealer that matches me in the summer. For under your eyes. Come over by the window."

----

"Good morning class!" Mr. J seemed to be in a good mood as he swept in and sat and opened his attendance file all in one smooth process. "Teresa...."

After a few minutes Karen passed a note over to Craig and he looked nervously at Mr. J before he remembered that it was okay.

'You look great! That's a better match than mine'

He turned a blotchy red from the embarrassment, fear and sudden need to use the bathroom. When he looked at Karen, afraid to see what he might see, she smiled widely and gave a little thumbs up. And then sat up to smile at Mr. J. Craig looked the other way at Megan and she was looking at some book, a novel. Gillian smiled at him from behind her and then looked at the back of the class at someone talking about soccer.

All normal. Weird, he thought.

"Craig?" Mr. Johnston startled him, but it was just roll call, and in his seat order, too. "You have a meeting with Mrs. Warkington first period, and then schedule revision with Miss Edwards and you'll keep this home room no matter what, okay?" Craig nodded.

"Have you thought about activities yet? It's early enough in the term but you shouldn't wait too long, okay?" He grinned. "Mrs. Higgins is really excited about you, you know. Jumping up and down...."

Karen and some other girl laughed a loud noise and Megan leaned over and whispered she was about 85 years old. Mr J interrupted. Or kept talking.

"Not literally jumping, of course... though most plays are literary, they are acted, not read." Mr. J looked expectant. Or stupid. Several girls groaned.

"Bad one, Mr. J..." "MAY-JOR reach!" Apparently Craig wasn't dumb, just the joke. If it was one.

But he decided to see Mrs. Higgins.

----

At the bell almost the same bunch of girls from lunch quickly gathered around him and all of them commented on Lynda's makeup job and how well she'd done it and how it blended perfectly and he finally asked, then how had they noticed?

Shelly laughed and tweaked his nose. "Because you look too good to be natural!" All the girls laughed, or smiled. It felt good to be laughed at without thinking a punch was coming.

They all moved out.

----

"Bye bye, cutie pie! See you at lunch!" Naomi pecked his cheek at the door of the office and ran off giggling.

Mrs. Dzyndra looked up from her desk near the front counter and smiled at him.

"Making friends, I see? Good for you, dear." She picked up a fat file folder and hefted it in his direction. He took the hint and took it.

"That's all the tests you've done and the results and Ms Edwards' papers and your official record, so don't lose it or you won't exist." She smiled the joke and he smiled back.

"If I fold it...?"

"Then you go through life with a limp. Whatever you do, don't tear it!" She looked horrified, badly.

----

Mrs. Warkington wanted him to take most of his classes with the grade eights, except English, but he'd be tutored as well, this term at least, and get special attention from the teachers in all of them. She said he'd probably be at his grade level, or enough to attend the classes, by the next term, but they'd see. And he'd need to get a lot of help for maths, and might take longer to catch up.

The bad news, if that was good news, was that he had to see Miss Edwards twice a week for more counseling, even if Mrs. Warkington said it was just to make sure he was keeping up academically.

And his father had just called to say he was coming to pick him up for after lunch to see the lawyers again. Something new.

New was always bad.

----

They walked around the school and Mrs. Warkington introduced him to his new classes, or new teachers anyway, while dozens of girls a year younger than him smiled and did little waves and giggled.

By the fourth one, he wasn't seeing them.

----

He was surprised when Miss Edwards sat in the chair next to him instead of behind her desk.

"May I?" She put her hand above his, far enough away that she wasn't touching in any way, but he saw and nodded. She put it on his and pressed down gently. "I noticed you have some makeup on today." She smiled at his squirm.

"You look very nice. You're allowed subtle makeup, but natural colors only during classes." She made a giggle and squeezed his fingers with the one hand while picking a photocopied pamphlet off her desk with the other.

"Some of our future lawyers have pointed out, rather successfully, that blue, pink and iridescent green are natural, too." She smiled. "But keep it subtle is all we ask. The same with hair. This is the policy, so just be reasonable, okay?"

He explained that Lynda had just used her concealer stuff after she saw what Karen did the day before, to make his dark circles less... and his sister....

Miss Edwards said he looked very nice like that, that it helped, and wasn't he sleeping well?

----

He was late for lunch, again, and Mrs. Dzyndra walked with him from the office since she was going to buy some food anyway. She took his arm as they walked.

"Craig, dear?" She hugged his arm slightly harder. "I noticed that some of the girls are calling you affectionate names. Is that alright with you? I hope they aren't teasing you?"

He blushed at her noticing. "No, it's okay." He looked down more and his voice thickened. "In my old school... they... they said, um, worse... things."

She slowed a little. Then she stopped and turned to him. He thought she looked mad and he pulled back a little.

"You'll tell a teacher or Mrs. Warkington or someone if that ~ever~ happens here, won't you?" She looked sad, not mad. "Could you promise me that?"

He nodded because even if she wasn't, he'd thought she was mad at him for a second, and he was scared. And when he was scared, ever since, he couldn't talk well. And was embarrassed for anyone to hear.

She must've thought it was enough because she took his arm again. This time he held onto hers too, squeezing it in so he wouldn't feel him shake. She patted his hand as they walked a little further. "You ~are~ a little sweetheart, aren't you?"

He looked at her with wide eyes and she smiled at him and winked. "Holding an old lady's arm while she walks.... I feel quite honored."

Even though she'd taken his arm, first.

At the door to the lunchroom she gave him almost the same little hug Naomi did and set off to the cafeteria counter while he looked for the girls, who were waving from the same table and pointing rather obviously to an empty chair.

All of them looked at his face and commented on how the concealer was a good thing but it was wearing off and Shelly and Naomi asked what shade it was and Karen dug out hers and they compared it to his face and said it was close, but too pinkish, and so on....

Megan looked at him from across the table and made a face like it wasn't always fun or good. He understood, because it wasn't. But it was okay, too.

They all asked about his classes and he was afraid they were going to make fun of him for going back a year in so many, but instead they were excited that they'd be able to share their notes and tutor him and said he'd be promoted so fast it'd be a record.... It was good.

It was even the opposite of what he'd told Mrs. Dzyndra.

----

They left the lunchroom a few minutes early so they could do their makeup and stuff. It was normal until they all turned into the washroom across from the offices, pulling and pushing him along before he could think to object. Then he just watched. Megan kept her hand tight around his.

With all of them, they had about seven different colors, though Nayleen's was way too dark. Shelly's powder was closest, at least holding it up by his chin and comparing to the tube, and she said it worked really well, except on small spots.

"Wanna try it?" She grinned at him.

"Try?"

"See what it looks like, compared? You need fixing. Your concealer's almost run- worn off, and maybe my powder'll be better." She kept grinning, but it was more like she was trying not to smile than be mean.

He looked in the mirror and he looked like usual. Which was worse than before school. He looked back at Shelly and tried to look normal. "Okay, but I don't want to look like a..." He thought of a better word, "clown?"

Everyone giggled but him, and after he washed, Shelly dabbed the little pad all over his face, kinda pressing it in and explained that it was different than concealer because it changed the shininess a lot and so he had to cover more....

She dug out a brush and whisked at all the stuff she'd just put on, and then stood back. They all did, a few inches. Nobody really smiled, even Shelly. Not bad, but not right. He looked in the mirror. "I look weird."

"~Way~ too much." Karen said it and everyone agreed, and the first bell went but nobody moved. Shelly dug some tissues out of her bag and started dabbing really lightly, wiping his face all over, but less under his eyes. He could see a lot of the color came off on the tissues.

"More." someone said. She did all the dabbing again, more, a ~lot~ more around his neck and ears. He watched in the mirror.

Some other girls came in to use the washroom and stayed to watch, a few giggling and then stopping.

"There... whadda you think?" Shelly stood back. In the mirror he looked way more like usual. Maybe pale.

"It's hard to do his nose, or his cheeks, without making the shine... contrast, with the powder...." She sounded unsatisfied.

Karen dug in her purse and came up with another compact.

"Here, let me.... Does anyone have a big brush I can use?" She held up the tiny brush from the compact and made a face.

Naomi dug out a fat brush with a big, fluffy head that was bent and kind of squashed. "Don't wreck it." She grinned like it was a joke.

Karen put her compact on the counter and brushed the brush over it and then took the used tissues and brushed them, and then got Craig to stand still and brushed his cheeks, just a flick or two each. Then she pressed the tissues lightly into them and whisked again. "There!"

All the girls crowded close to look, even the new ones who were just standing back and watching, and almost all of them smiled and said yeah and that's perfect and stuff. Someone said "Kewl!"

Craig looked in the mirror, and aside from the fact that he looked like he hardly had pores, he looked pretty normal. He had to smile too. The second warning bell went and everyone moved. He thought he'd better say how he felt, quickly.

"Thanks!"

Shelly had a thousand-watt smile and Karen finished putting things right in her pack, and smiled back before she leaned down and pecked his lips with a kiss. "You're welcome. You look really pretty."

She slung her pack and took his arm and wrapped it under hers and led them all out, late, probably. Megan was giggling like an idiot.

At the door, the sight of the offices across the hall reminded Craig that his father was coming to get him. He paused and Karen and the rest stopped too. "I have to meet my dad here, I think now...."

"Do you need anything from your locker?" Megan suddenly looked upset. She knew how much little things out of order upset him sometimes.

Craig thought, his eyes wide. "I, um... better get my pack.... He's not here yet, I guess." He looked both ways.

Karen took his arm again. "Well, I'm heading that way for music, so lets go, beautiful!" She giggled along with the rest of them as they split into two groups and headed opposite directions to classes, after Megan hugged him a quick goodbye, even though she was going his way.

Naomi and Nayleen, and some of the ones he thought were from other years went with them down the hall. Megan squeezed his hand before she headed into her next class and kissed his cheek the way Karen had. "Good luck, 'kay?" He nodded.

"You're Craig, um... Danner? You're gonna be in our math class... with Mrs. Simcoe? Grade eight?" The skinny girl walking on the other side of Karen was looking at him.

He nodded. "I think, maybe...? Danver."

"Sorry." She smiled. "I'm Barb and this is Colleen and that's Angela." She pointed at the two other girls with her, who had to almost walk sideways so they could all fit in the corridor. They smiled and waved and said hi too. "We have a homework group and Miz Simcoe says, well, it really helps some of us...." She ran down for some reason.

"So, wanna join our group?" Colleen skipped ahead so she could talk. She had braces with blue highlights on them. "It's really fun and we switch houses and have weekend sessions with pizza 'nd stuff?"

"What's your grade so far?" Naomi sounded like an adult, but she grinned. Colleen grinned proudly back.

"The whole group is four-oh."

"Join 'em!" Naomi and Karen said together, and then everybody laughed.

The three girls from the study group all stopped outside a classroom and kind of waved goodbye. Angela touched her own cheek.

"And you look really nice like that, too." They turned into the room. "You really do. It suits you." She smiled goodbye.

Karen headed them out again and ignored the start-of-class bell that was almost deafening because they were right beside one. Naomi and Nayleen stayed on his left.

"It really does, you know. You look way better," Karen said when he could hear again, just as they reached his locker and stood around as he remembered his combination and got his pack.

"But isn't it weird, I mean.... That I have... makeup on?"

"Not in a girl's school." Nayleen smiled and pulled him for a quick kiss on the lips again before she hiked her bag again and stepped away. "I have to run, but you really look beautiful!" She turned and trotted down the empty hall.

Craig looked at Karen and Naomi as he closed his locker. They didn't look like they were in any hurry. "Aren't you missing class or something?"

Karen grinned and shouldered his pack over her purse strap. "Nope. Mrs. Warkington said we had to keep an eye on you for a while, us home roomies, and we are." She dropped the smile as a serious expression took over, then a sad one.

"They didn't tell us what happened, to you, officially, but there was the stuff in the news, about Central... and we figured it might've been you and...." Her expression hardened, looking at the floor, but she was back to sad when she looked up and watched his face. "It won't happen here, okay? We promise."

Naomi joined her, them, in a hug. She said it was for Karen, because she was a big suck. Karen nodded.

"I am. Ask anyone."

----

Mrs. Warkington gave the girls passes and they both kissed and hugged Craig goodbye again.

Diana looked at Craig all the while, wondering what possible explanation there could be for his having more makeup on than any of the girls usually wore. Even if it was fairly well-done. She decided not to mention it since he seemed oblivious. But he wasn't smiling either.

"Your father just called and said he's on his way." She sat on the old pew-like bench at the front of the office and Craig sat down a few seconds later, although as far over as he could.

"I think you've attended, what, two actual classes since you've been with us?" She smiled to make it a joke. He didn't see her smile since he ducked and covered at her mention of classes. She felt guilty at her use of humor that might be a criticism. She knew better.

She touched his shoulder. Some students responded well to social touching and Craig seemed to be one of those. "I'm sorry, dear. I meant that we've kept you busy, and out of class."

He didn't reply, but lifted his shoulders, and she tried to decipher the movement. Leave him alone? It's okay? Was he crying? He didn't move away from her hand at least. She needed to be sure.

"I made a mistake and made a joke and you didn't understand me... is that right?"

He kept his eyes down, almost turned away. But he shook his head.

"Craig." She waited until he looked up at her, a few seconds, and kept her voice quiet to give him some privacy. "Why are you so upset? You seemed so happy at lunch."

He closed his eyes and was still for a long moment, while she wondered if that was too personal, or too forward. Was the office too public? He took a small breath and looked at her hand, perhaps, but closed them again. He almost whispered.

"I have to see a l-l-lawyer an-n-n-nnd it m-m-might be the trial... the p-p-p-p... about the, the... k... kwe... kwe..."

"Questions?" She didn't understand. He nodded.

"About..." He swallowed and it seemed to hurt.

"She, she goes over... w-w-what I have to say... and... w-what they m-mmmmm-m-might ask mmmmm-m-m-ME!" He shuddered as he forced out the last word.

She understood.

----

Robert was ushered into the principal's office by a very formal, brisk woman who held the door and then closed it behind him. A different Mrs. Warkington than he remembered.

"Please have a seat, Mr. Danvers. I wanted to talk with you for a few minutes, if you have the time?"

He timed his sitting to follow her and indicated he had a little time. "Is Craig okay? I..."

"Yes, he's with our student counsellor right now, Miss Edwards, just down the hall." She changed tone. Colder.

"Mr. Danvers, your... child..."

-

Mrs. Warkington watched Craig's father's face harden into... violence.

----

While Craig talked on the phone in his parents' room, his sister paced.

"Please sit down, Lynda. You're making me nervous too." Her mother waved her over to the couch and pulled her down and turned to her husband.

"Rob, if she does this, what will happen? I... will anything else change, with the charges, or the trial? Why didn't she tell us about it before?"

Robert looked up from the papers he was reading for the second time. They were general, but reassuring.

"She said... mmm.... She said it was entirely up to us, and to Craig, if he wanted to ask to be protected from cross-examination, as a juvenile. And she'll support the petition to the court and it was a...." He sat up and looked at the stairs where his daughter was looking. Craig wasn't there.

"It'll change things. She said it could reduce the chance of a conviction, sometimes, it does in other states and it's relatively new here, for teenagers, and especially... because... the 'accused' is... young."

He made a tired gesture to the papers.

"It says here it shouldn't, itself, but it hasn't been allowed except with very young witnesses... younger than Craig, but she said video testimony didn't always convince a jury the same way a live witness would, even with the same testimony." He looked at them.

"I want him to do it. I... It's too hard. Even if it's less chance for a conviction."

He couldn't even identify all the emotions that were overwhelming him. Anger and relief and grief and... and he was very tired.

----

Megan had put Karen and Nayleen on as well after calling back, and even though he had to explain some of it again, they really helped.

"So you'd just talk into a camera, like read a statement or something," Nayleen asked?

"Um, no, not really...." Craig had to remember. "The judge... some judge, anyway... would be there, and the, the defense lawyers, but they, the lawyers wouldn't be allowed to ask anything the judge didn't say was okay, before.... It's complicated...."

"So the jury would just see the tape? The video? And you wouldn't have to go? To the trial?"

"Yeah. Mostly." He almost was silent, he spoke so softly. For the really bad parts, he wouldn't have to go. "Yeah."

----

Lynda pulled him closer than usual, harder, hugging like he was a teddy bear or something. He didn't say anything, so she just kept trying to feel good.

"You looked nice today. Your face."

"Thanks. Some of the girls fixed up the concealer after lunch."

"More than concealer...."

"Yeah. Some blush stuff, I think."

"It looked nice on you." She hugged harder for a second.

"Whose blazer was that?"

"I dunno. Mrs. Warkington loaned it to me from the office when I was cold."

"It looked nice, too. Hardly anyone wears them anymore." The school had dropped compulsory uniforms when she was a sophomore.

"It felt nice too. It's heavy."

"No it's not. You're just not used to jackets. You looked good in it."

"Thanks."

"I still have my old one, if you want it?"

"Could I?"

She kissed his hair. "Of course you can."

After a long silence, she whispered what she felt, trying not to cry again, hoping it was okay to say it.

"I'm so glad you're not going to have to... to testify... at the trial."

After a long silence, he answered, barely able to speak. Barely able to breathe.

"Me too."

----

Robert stood in the doorway and watched his two sleeping children. It was the first time Craig had fallen asleep by himself. Without Marg or him looking in.

Lynda had her arm wrapped under him, her face hidden in his hair. It looked uncomfortable for both of them.

She was an adult now, most ways. Almost finished college. Smarter than he ever was. But she was the one who couldn't sleep alone. Who needed to be hugged and touched all the time. Or she said so, anyway. He thought she was making excuses for Craig. That she would do anything for her brother, to keep....

His boy. Fifteen. Hurt more in his short life than he'd ever been in forty-five years. Raped. Raped.

Robert had to clench his hands to keep the tears away. He'd always feared it could happen to his little girl, worried through her every date, resented every boyfriend.

But it was a... a stupid bully, a thug not even... as old...

And... his little boy.

Who'd looked even younger today, and almost like Lynda. And so happy. So relieved at maybe not having to testify in court.

-

He kneeled quietly beside the bed so he wouldn't wake them, but he had to touch him, to be safe, at least here.

When he felt safe, he cried, quietly.

----

Margaret checked that they were all okay and then went to bed to wait for her husband.

Craig had looked so... feminine... with the makeup. But he looked like his sister, so it made sense. She still wondered if she should have asked him about it but had decided that it might embarrass him. Though he acted like he didn't even know he had it on, or how he looked. She'd ask Lynda. They'd probably already talked about it.

She knew Robert would need comforting. He got so worked up about things he couldn't help. He was the more emotional of the two of them, she thought for the thousandth time.

----

"The Assistant D.A.... Mrs. Quiring...."

He stopped and thought for a while while Margaret gently rubbed his shoulders, touched the muscles lightly, her hands seemingly magic, the way they affected him.

"Do you think it's alright... that that's safe?"

She waited, but thought she knew what he meant. Even with his changing the subject.

"How he looked?"

He nodded. She knew what he was thinking. He was worried about bullies, or people saying things about his boy wearing makeup. He wouldn't be worried at all about that, if people would leave him alone, if he could see a smile more often.

"He was already asleep...."

She smiled at his back and squeezed a little tighter where she knew it'd feel nice. He was saying the two were connected, or asking. Maybe all three things. She kissed him goodnight on his neck and to say yes.

"I think... even with Mrs. Quiring... he had a good day."

----

"I think you had way too much on yesterday, for school..." Lynda dabbed on the concealer again. "Even if you looked really nice...."

She had a weird thing of sticking the tip of her tongue out whenever she did something small. Craig grinned at how irritated she'd be if he mentioned it.

"But powder can do the same thing, a bit, so it was still... okay...." She used a tissue to push gently under his eyes where she'd put it on, a lot like Shelly had, but with her concealer. Then she took a big jar of powder and opened it and looked around in the drawer and found a brush.

"This'll be the same, but way lighter. You had pressed powder on...." She dipped the brush in the tub and then dabbed at his face and then told him to close his eyes and then dabbed even there and then whisked it off all over and looked. He did too. Pale, like before. Not pale, but odd... all....

"You had blush on yesterday, too."

He looked at her, away. "Some really light pink stuff?" She nodded.

"It was a perfect color for you. Lessee...." She dug around looking at some little square compacts and held one up to him. "Wait." She ran out and rumbled down the stairs.

He looked ok, like yesterday, but maybe too much... one color, maybe. It felt smooth. Like baby powder. And perfume.

"This might be right." Lynda returned with a round compact and held it up, the same way. "I think so."

She used the same big brush, and her tongue peeked out. She flicked the brush on her hand, and then a tissue, and then on his cheeks, like along them. Then she put some plain lip balm on him with her pinky. "Perr-fect!"

He looked in the mirror and it was. He looked normal, except no black eyes. But more normal than... than yesterday. He smiled at himself and her. "Thanks! It looks great!"

"No, ~you~ look great. And you're welcome. Here. Here's... my concealer, and this is the blush and Mom says you can have it, and you should carry it, but we'll have to find some pressed powder in that shade... I don't think they make this...." She looked at the bottom of the big jar, holding it over her head and craning her neck. "This stuff must be older than you are...."

He took the tube of concealer and the little green compact and opened it and there was a tiny brush that wasn't anything like the ones Karen or his sister had used. But he thought, hey, it's a brush.... He carefully closed it and checked to see if it leaked, or would open, and slid it in his jacket pocket.

"One more thing." Lynda grinned and picked up her hair brush. "You ~have~ to take better care of your hair."

She brushed it to get out the tangles, and to make it shiny, she told him, and it looked the same, but un-tangley and shiny. Much nicer. She'd have to get him to use her conditioner, it was getting long enough to need it.

"There." She smiled at him like she did lately when she felt like it would get better, and when it ~was~ getting better.

He grinned thanks at her. Like his biggest problem was his hair and she'd just solved it.

He looked so cute.

Maybe she'd email the university about re-enrolling next term.

----

"Ta-daaaa!" Lynda announced, and their mother smiled.

"Oh! That looks wonderful!" Margaret looked at his face, at the huge smile and rosy cheeks, and only after a second or two noticed the blazer, Lynda's old one, she realized. It was tailored, the way school fashion had demanded a few years ago, and presented a trim waist and the suggestion of a bust-line, and looked....

Craig was happy.

It looked wonderful.

Craig beamed at her praise, and obviously really liked the jacket. He kept touching it, smoothing a pocket flap, tugging the hem. And smiling.

He had makeup on again too, and a nice... blouse. Lynda was beaming at him, as proud as a sister could be.

Her eyes teared a little and she wished Robert could see them. One of those moments he treasured.

"Wait! I need a picture for your father! Don't move!" She ran to the front hall and found the little digital. By the time she returned Lynda and Craig were posing together, smiling and happy.

End of part two

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Comments

This is so sweet.

Craig is such a gentle child...I shudder to think of what happened to him before he enrolled.

Keep it up, I love it.

-Christelle

Thanks

Thanks, Christelle,
I appreciate your comment. I like to think he'll live in the future, shaped by the bad ~and~ the good stuff.
Michelle
(Not-so-closeted Pollyanna)

This seems like a great

Educational piece about teen rape. I think this story could be a great starting point for classes about rape for the mid teens group (15-16), I think you need to look into publishing it as one .

Thanks for making me cry ( good and bad tears).
Lily.

Excellent story

I agree with Lilly -- there are way too many instances of boys and men being raped by predators, and sadly the current paradigm excludes many of them from support groups, rape counseling, and even shelters, even though the laws says they're to have equal access.

Keep up the great story, and even if Craig doesn't slide into full femininity, he has more in common with the girls then he'll imagine.

Huggles!

Powerful story!

Jezzi Stewart's picture

Congratulations. Keep the chapters coming, please.

"All the world really is a stage, darlings, so strut your stuff, have fun, and give the public a good show!" Miss Jezzi Belle at the end of each show

BE a lady!

Michelle, I Hope That Craig Will Find

That not all boys are monsters. It is the evil lawyers that prey upon the emotional wrecks that were hurt by their clients that give the profession a bad name. I can see such a lawyer causing Craig nightmares. For such monsters, there is only the Utter Darkness.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Heartbreak

I know the pain Craig is feeling, all too well. It breaks my heart to see the pain Craig is feeling. But Craig is very fortunate to have such a great group of new girl friends who care about him. Between them and his family, he has a simply fantastic support group of people who love him.

This is a wonderful story, and I'm enjoying it very, very much.

Karen J.

"All lies in jest, still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest"

The Boxer - Simon & Garfunkel


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

craig's dad

has to feel so horrible. a good parent, especially a good father, wants to protect their child. To have been unable to prevent what happened must be killing him.

"Treat everyone you meet as though they had a sign on them that said "Fragile, under construction"

dorothycolleen

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