My muse had to work very hard to finish this tale. While it is based on a true story, I was told many years ago I had to take some liberties with the ending. The ending is true to form, but not as true to fact. For those who commented and wanted to see the story continued, I hope you can see the real character of Roxy under the writing. The ending is rather sad so take the **tissue alert** to heart.

Chapter 1

Sis and I talked about a great many things that day. From school to college, boys, you name it and we probably hit on the subject at least once. Just before mom called us into dinner she told me that if I really wanted to be a boy that bad I should appeal to dad.

"Mom may win the arguments, but you know dad's word is final." she added.

It was a rather quiet dinner and without saying so, I think dad knew it was time for a heart to heart talk between him and I. My talk with Sharon earlier in the day was still heavy on my mind, but I had made my decision. Now, I would need dad's help.

I figured dad knew something was up when I walked into his study still wearing my sister's bikini and closed the door behind me.

"This must be serious," he smiled, as he looked at me over the top of his reading glasses.

"It is pop. Can we talk for a bit?" I asked.

"Sure, you know I am always here for you," he smiled, as I sat in the chair beside his desk.

"Do you know what is up with mom or why she won't let me have my boy's clothes back?" I asked.

"I do. But don't you think your mom should be here to speak for herself?" He said with some tension in his voice.

"No, mom has a way of saying what she thinks I want to hear. Not necessarily a lie, but not really the truth either. You may not give me details, but you will tell me the way it is, not just what I want to hear." I added.

"That sounds like a very mature way of saying you don't trust your mom," dad said with more than a little anger showing in his voice.

"I don't trust mom or sis for that matter. Still, I need to know what is going on here dad and I want to hear from you," I spat.

"Do you want it straight up or the sugarcoated version?" He all but spat back.

"Straight up. Just put all the cards on the table," I said in one breath.

"Okay, but first you have to do the same. Was the protest really your idea? And how committed are you to seeing this through?" He added.

"In my own words?" I asked.

"Sure," He replied.

"The school can take their uniform policy and shove it right up their ass. If I ever wear slacks and a tie to school or anywhere else, it will be because I decided to. Unless you and mom make me," I added. "Is that committed enough?"

"And hell yes, the protest was my idea and despite all the trouble it has caused me I would do it again right now if I had to," I paused and took a breath.

"Okay. You have had your say. Are you ready to hear me and your mom out?"

Almost on cue mom came in and stood behind dad. It was as if they were presenting a united front. This was not good, I told myself.

"I am," I stated flatly.

"Right now we owe, that is the parents that hired the lawyers, about 20 thousand dollars that none of us have. The boy that kissed you at the party on New Years, was the son of my boss. When the dust settles, I may not have a job and you can bet I won't get a letter of recommendation either," dad paused.

"Now, add to all that the cost of the protest, not just the permit we had to get, but the clothes, the trips to the salon, your gown for the beauty pageant, I can go on," mom chimed in.

"You two make it sound as if all this is my fault," I spoke softly.

"No, it's not your fault, Ronnie. You decided to protest and your mom and I supported that decision and we still do. But so far all you have seen is your own troubles. Sharon went through hell this year too, Ronnie. You're not an island unto yourself. Everything you do has consequences and not just for you," dad paused to let what he had said sink in.

The silence in the room was deafening. Then Sharon walked in and sat beside me.

"Can you see the bigger picture now?" Sis asked. "Mom and I could have let you go to school just wearing my uniform and still looking very much like the boy you are."

"Then the question would have been much different. Had you not felt trapped to some degree once the protest started, would you have stayed the course?" Sharon spoke softly.

"How many times did you ask me and your dad to quit?" Mom added.

"I understand and yes, I would have quit or given in, sis," I replied, as I held back my tears.

"So what happens from this point on is up to you, Ronnie. I can tell you now we will not win the lawsuit. And the school has already amended the uniform policy for next year and it's quite clear now as to which sex wears which uniform. You can get an extension for the protest and continue wearing your sister's clothes, but the school will make it just that much harder on you. Your mom and I will support you just the same if you do or don't,." dad paused again and took a deep breath.

Mom and Sharon left the room and dad just sat there looking at me like the whole world had changed somehow.

"Was I wrong, Pop?" I looked him straight in the eye.

"It's never wrong to stand up and be counted for what you think is right. However, right and wrong are sometimes deeply personal and very objective. What is right to me might be terribly wrong to someone else. So that is a question you have to answer for yourself," he stated.

"That's not really an answer," I replied.

"Okay, let's look at it another way then. The school wanted you to wear slacks and a tie. You decided to protest and then felt forced to wear your sister's clothes and adopt the ways of a girl. So either way you felt forced into doing something you did not really want to do. So? Was it wrong of your mom and Sharon to do what they did or for the school to force your hand?"

"I say the school was wrong. The policy did nothing to promote higher grades. The truth be told it hurt almost everybody's grades, save a few. Even Ms. Kline will tell you that," I added.

"And what your mom and Sharon did?" He asked.

"Well, if they hadn't I would have surely given in. So I guess they were right," I said rather glum faced.

"Okay, I have work to do and you have a lot of things to think about. If after you have thought all this through you want to talk again, I am here for you," dad said.

Over the weekend I got full access to all my boy's clothes. In fact, they were all moved into the guest bedroom. So now I had two, a bedroom for Roxanne and one for Ronnie.

Sis gave me the remover for the glue that held my breasts and boy's parts so I could be free of both if that was what I wanted. As I sat on the bed surrounded by all my favorite clothes, I thought to myself long and hard about all the things that happened that year at school. Had they beaten me in the end anyway? Was I so sure that being Ronnie again was the answer for me?

It was just short of depressing when I laid the fake breasts on the night stand and looked between my legs and saw the boys swinging free like before. I hadn't seen or even talked to Sherry since our last date. Some friends had told me she wasn't seeing anybody or dating either.

I would just stand at the full mirror and look at my body all tanned and the bikini lines were very obvious, as well. I hadn't shaved my body in almost three weeks now and still the image I saw was all girl. Even in my boy's clothes with no makeup or polish on my nails, the image was still all girl. As far as school went, I would all but seem to be protesting wearing the right clothes now. This was all screwed up to me and I had no idea how to fix it.

For most of a week I moped around the house not really talking to anybody. To me going back to being Ronnie full time was like killing off a part of myself. As much as I was sure I was Ronnie and a boy, I had a love/hate relationship with Roxanne, as well. To me she and I had beaten the school at their own game. On the other hand it was at Ronnie's expense. I just couldn't get happy with me or her.

That next Friday Ms. Kline came to visit. I was upstairs in my room when mom called for Ronnie to come down. When I came into the living room as Ronnie, I could see blood run from Ms. Kline's face.

"I see your return to boyhood didn't take long," she smiled.

"Yes, well, if the school still plans to keep the uniform policy, I suspect this will be short lived," I replied.

"The policy will stand, I am quite sure of that. But in the meantime we still need a mentor for summer school. We have more kids taking makeup classes this year than ever before," she added.

"Guess the uniforms didn't really help after all." I stood with my hands on my hips having gotten at least a small victory.

"Well, not this year and I'm sure the protest didn't help matters," she shot back.

"Next year will be no different. At least half of the staff and teachers agree with me. So the uniform policy is a waste of time and effort, never mind the money," I added.

"The school can't pay you much, but if you are willing, the mentor's position is open," she smiled.

"For Ronnie or Roxanne?" I asked rather pointed.

"Either, so long as you're in uniform," she smiled even bigger.

"And when would this start?" Mom asked.

"Monday and it's just three half days a week," she added.

"I have your number. We'll call if he decides to take the position," mom said.

Saturday, mom, dad, and I sat to talk again in the study.

"Have you made any decisions?" Dad asked.

"No, not really," I replied solemnly.

"Then your mom and I want to place a different offer on the table," dad smiled.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Ronald, down at the studio, brought us two contracts last month," dad stated.

"Modeling contracts for Roxanne," mom injected.

"And nobody told me this? Why?" I asked.

"Simple," dad spoke quickly. "If you're not happy being Roxanne, then the contracts are no good."

"But if they offered a contract, there must be a good amount of money involved," I all but questioned.

"Money won't make you happy being Roxanne," mom insisted.

"True, but you heard Ms. Kline the other day. They still intend to enforce the school uniform policy. And I will protest just the same next year. So the money would maybe cover the expenses," I looked them both in the eyes.

"True, the money would come in handy, but there is more to it than you might think," dad stated flatly.

"Like what?" I asked trying to sound a bit shocked.

"You will have to have real breasts and you will have to legally change your name. Now, real breasts can be implants that can be removed or drained at a later date. Taking hormones to grow real breasts takes time and that we don't have," mom spoke again.

"Getting your name changed can be done with some ease, but living with real breasts as Roxanne all the time to fulfill the contract is not something to take lightly," dad spoke plainly.

"You think about it for a few days. If you want to do it, then dad and I will back you all the way. If not, then that's good, too. It's strictly your choice," mom spoke softly, as if she knew I would say no.

I went straight to Sharon's room and told her the whole conversation we had just had. She never said do it or don't do it. Her final words were that it was a good chance to make some big bucks that might come in handy later down the road. So much for her insight on the matter.

Mentally, I kicked myself all weekend. Was I standing on principal or hiding behind it? It was so easy to find the line I had drawn in the sand.

Monday morning I got up early. I put on the tightest panties I had and pushed my boyhood down between my legs. Then for good measure I put on a pair of pantyhose, as well. I placed the breast form's in my bra, but didn't glue them in place. I put on the uniform and did my hair and makeup like normal and then put on a pair of my best high heels.

Over breakfast I told mom and dad I was going to school to talk to Ms. Kline and maybe take the mentor's position. I still hadn't decided on the modeling stuff, but I would and soon. They were happy with my explanation and that ended the discussion.

At school I talked to Ms. Kline in depth about what might happen next year assuming I continued to protest.

"The board will insist that you keep seeing the shrink and likely change your class schedule for some of the more female oriented classes like home economics," she said softly. "Thinking about dropping the torch?" She asked.

"No, I won't back down now, but there are other issues I have to consider, as well," I added.

I worked with several kids that day from the seventh and eight grade class. Nobody seemed surprised to see me as Roxanne and the day was over before it felt like it even got started.

As I headed home, a storm rolled in and the rain was a bit blinding. It was all I could do to see at 40 miles per hours with the wipers on high. I was less than a mile from home when suddenly my car was hit from behind.

The force of the impact literally launched my car off the road. It rolled seven times according to one of the senior class boys that was on the bus that hit me. All I remember after the impact was being thrown from the car and feeling my body going flying through some tree limbs. I landed on a boulder in the split position with both legs broken and one arm, as well. I recall the emergency people getting my id from my purse and calling mom and dad just before they put me in the ambulance and then I was out.

I didn't wake up till three weeks later and I was in the hospital just 20 miles from home. Sis was sitting by my bed and as soon as I opened my eyes she ran out and got mom and dad. Mom and sis were all smiles just to see me awake, but dad had a rather somber look on his face.

I was in a lot of pain and didn't really talk all that much. Sis did give me the run down on the accident and as much as she knew about how it all happened. Now that I was awake the doctors wanted to talk to me, as well, so the family had to wait till after that was done.

In short, I would live. I had minor cuts and bruises, as well as the broken bones, but all in all I had made it through with a lot less injuries than most had thought. I could tell there was something they weren't telling me, but I figured whatever it was I would find out sooner or later.

A week later I got all the casts off my legs and arm. Almost all of my classmates had come to visit and offered their support in any way they could. I thanked them all and told them my resolve was firm. I would see them in school and the protest was still on if the school insisted on uniforms.

The day before I was to be sent home dad came in my room and wanted to talk. He had that look on his face that I had seen so many times. He was doing all he could to be calm and speak nicely, but underneath he was seething mad about something and I knew it.

"There is something you haven't been told yet about the wreck and your injuries," he stated.

"Just spit it out, Pop," I smiled.

Dad took a deep breath and now it seemed as if he was holding back his tears. This was not normal for dad. In fact, I had never seen him cry for any reason.

"Ronnie, they had to take your balls. They were crushed either by a passing tree limb or when you landed on the rock. We don't know for sure, but you will never be a father and unless you take hormones to replace what you have lost, you'll never be much of a man either."

"It's okay, Dad. I'll live and that's what counts right now," I added. "I just want to go home and the sooner the better."

The county sheriff sent an officer to the house for my side of the story concerning the accident. There wasn't much for me to tell. I never saw what or who hit me. All I really knew was I was hit from behind.

That was when dad brought out all the threatening letters we had gotten last year. Sis and I had no clue we had even gotten one, much less the twelve or so that dad gave to the sheriff's officer. The shock registered pretty quick with Sis and I and the officer knew then we had no clue about the letters.

The officer took the originals, but dad had made copies and now that the cat was out of the bag sis and I wanted to read them. After dinner and once the table was cleaned up, dad had sis and I sit together and with mom and dad there with us we read the letters.

For the most part, all but two of the letters was someone venting about kids these days needing rules and discipline. It seemed that Sharon and I were poster children for the rebellious nature that kids had developed and then we were called some pretty ugly names. Fag, lesbo, you can go down the list.

The last two were well written and point blank about the fact that Sharon and I would pay for all the trouble that we had caused this year at the school. There was a whole list of things that could happen to us. And being in a wreck was one of them.

We didn't really discuss the letters, but I could see the question in mom and dad's eyes, as I got up from the table.

"The protest is still on and they haven't seen anything yet," I spat, as I headed for my room.

Early the next morning my counselor from school came by and the shrink I had been seeing was with her. Ms. Williams wanted to talk to mom and dad and the shrink, of course, wanted to talk to me. Dad had taken some leave time just before I was ready to leave the hospital so he was home that day.

The shrink told me he had seen all the paperwork from the hospital and knew about my injuries. I was listening to him as he spoke, but I was also listening to the rather heated discussion coming from dad's study.

The shrink continued, "You're young and unless you take some male hormones and soon, your body will start to go through puberty all over again and this time you will develop more like a girl," he said, then smiled as if I should reply in some way.

"But then in your case, it might be just the same if you allowed nature to take its course," he added.

"What? And hand you another stick to beat me with next year? I will be back in school next year and I will be there every day as Roxanne if the school insists on the uniforms," I spat.

"Is that what you think I did?" He asked.

"Think! I know that is what you did and you did it to my sister, as well. You and the school board did all you could to make mine and my sister's life hell at school last year," I said with even more vigor.

"No, we just wanted you to see the err of your ways," he smiled, as if by making me mad, he had achieved something.

"Doc, do you still have that book you were always taking notes in last year?" I asked.

"I do, but those are personal and private. Nobody gets to see them except me," he stated with a flustered look.

"Good. When you get the chance, write this down because I would hate for you to forget it. Ronald Edward Basin will never wear slacks and a tie to school. Last year you made my life hell, so next year it's your turn," I spat with a loud voice.

I stood up and was about to head towards my room, when mom, dad, and Ms. Williams emerged from dad's study.

"I trust you know the way out," I pointed towards the front door.

They didn't say another word before they left and mom and dad spent several minutes trying to calm me down. Mom and dad knew I seldom got mad, but once I did the fight was on.

I asked dad to have a lawyer look over the contracts and pick the one he figured was best. I also asked mom to get us an appointment with the plastic surgeon she had been talking to, as I was going to need the breast implants.

They both knew I was past just being mad and urged me to use caution. Caution was the last thing on my mind. They would pay and they would pay big time if I had my way.

Two weeks later I was sporting a very tender set of C cups. I wanted more, but the doctor said I just didn't have the room or enough loose skin for more. I also had a contract with Ronald down at the studio and was working three and four days a week modeling clothes for a regional chain store.

My first paycheck was over ten thousand dollars and there was more to come. I got my own lawyer and filed the papers to become an emancipated adult. There were things I wanted to do that I was sure mom and dad would not agree with me on. So this way it was my choice and I would suffer the consequences.

I paid close attention to how the makeup people did my face and was soon able to copy it. I also saw how the older women used their body and the way they dressed to look very sexy. Showing a hint of boobs here and a little too much leg there. Nothing escaped my notice. And Sharon spotted the change in me first.

At work everybody called me Roxy. Soon enough, dad, mom and sis called me that, as well.

The good part of modeling was that I got to keep some of the clothes. A few of the designers even came around and offered me their whole line for the season. The classic girl stuff I accepted without much thought. The rest of it I just said thanks and no thanks to.

My second paycheck paid off the lawyers dad and the other parents had gotten. And right about now the investigation into the accident took a hard turn.

The bus driver openly admitted the accident was his fault. But there was more to the story than just that. The day after the accident he somehow came into twenty thousand dollars. What he didn't know was that the school board was self-insured, as far as the buses went. And that left him wide open for a lawsuit, as well as the school board.

I jumped on that opportunity with both feet and spoke to my lawyer that day. Again, mom and dad urged caution. This was a chance to even the score and I was going to have it.

"I know you have the money to fight them, but even if you win, what did you really gain?" Dad said softly.

"School starts back in two weeks. You know once the school knows you have filed suit they will come down on you that much harder," mom added.

"Then sobeit," I replied, as I signed the check to my lawyer and took the protest permit for this year.

My legal name was now Roxanne Basin. I measured 34 C, 20, 34. And with all the time I had spent modeling over the summer there was very little, if any, of Ronnie left to fight. I had decided not to take any hormones and by this point my penis had drawn up inside me. Unless I went fishing to find it, I never saw it now. And with the help of a local salon and a laser my body was totally hair free now.

With a little of the glue sis had used to hold my breasts on before, I could mold my empty sack into what looked like a vagina. And in truth I kept it that way most of the time.

When I registered for school, they would not accept the papers that said that I was legally Roxanne Basin. I had to register as Ronnie. The lawyer had already told me this might happen as most everybody knew I had just changed my name so I could model as a female.

I think they expected a fight, but I just smiled and signed up as Ronnie and checked the box that said I was a male. Little did they know this played right into my hand. I gave Ms. Kline a copy of the protest permit as soon as I was done. Thomas and about half the boys in the class all signed on to the protest just the same as last year.

There was one ray of sunshine. We now had what the school called "Casual Friday". One day a week we could wear whatever so long as it didn't violate some other rule in the dress code. And Ms Kline took the opportunity to remind that Friday was my day to see the shrink. I reminded her I had a job and if I had to work on Friday, the shrink would just have to wait his turn.

The first week of school was kind of like getting to know everybody again. Some knew my breasts were real and some didn't. I didn't tell anybody one way or the other. The girls just seemed to accept me as one of them. And I had gotten accustomed to being looked at all the time, but the guys just seemed to stare at me all the time.

Sharon and I went over the dress code outside of the uniforms. Short pants were out, as were bathing suits of any kind. There's no stipulation on how short a skirt could be or how low cut a top might be either. Sharon didn't have a clue where I was going with this till the next Friday came around.

I had bought a new bright red Mazda RX to replace my old car. And when Sharon saw me that morning in the Mazda girl's racing body suit, I thought she would flip. Needless to say, Dad stopped me at the door and made me go change. I put on a red pleated mini skirt and a micro fiber top to match. They were both as tight as the body suit and dad just sighed, as I walked out the door.

There was a reason I dressed this way and it was not to get some boy's attention either. Today I had to see the shrink after school and he was going to get an eyeful. I will confess the skirt was so short that from the back it just covered the creases of my cheeks. And the top was so tight and low cut if I slumped my shoulders at all, you could see plenty of boobs.

I wore stockings that day with stay-up tops and I pulled them up right to my crotch. The girls just loved the outfit and I suspected to see many more like it come next Friday. A few thought it was a bit over the top, but most praised my courage to even wear it.

Just before I was to sit with the shrink, I ducked into the bathroom. I took a deep breath and removed my panties. The shrink seemed a bit like a dirty old man to me and I was about to see if I was right.

Our thirty minute chat turned into an hour and I made him squirm the whole time. I gave him every opportunity to see more of me than he ever wanted to. I crossed and uncrossed my legs several times rather slowly. I leaned towards his desk and lowered my shoulders till my boobs all but fell out of my top. I did all I could to make it hell on him the whole time. And worse yet, he probably knew I was doing it on purpose.

I had offered Thomas a ride home earlier in the day and he was standing by my car when we came out. The poor man was so flustered he had to carry his briefcase, strategically, in front of him to cover the raging hard on he had. All the cheerleaders and some other girls that had stayed for practice after school saw it, as well.

I figured the news would beat me home, but if it did nothing was ever said to me about it. That set the tone for the first semester of the year. I did the same thing every Friday and the results were the same, as well. Sharon said it was a cheap thrill for me more so than him. I all but laughed her out of the room when she did.

With mid term tests done, I went home prepared for a week of leisure. Mom, now my agent, had other plans. I worked every day and sometimes they were ten hour days and on the week I had off I actually got one day.

The blitz mom had put me through had caught me up contract wise and I could coast pretty much till school was out for the year. I got a huge paycheck and a bonus for finishing early. I had a standing offer to work for them by the hour any time I wanted. I felt sure I would, but mom and dad wanted me to give all my attention to school for a while.

We got an extra day off as an in service teacher's meeting fell on the day we were supposed to start back. That didn't stop Ms. Kline from paying us a visit and I was all but sure I knew the reason why.

Mom and dad might only have guessed what I had been up to on Friday. But now Ms. Kline was telling them point by point about all the stuff I had done to the shrink. Dad was doing all he could not to bust up laughing and mom had a grin on face like I had never seen. Ms. Kline realized pretty quick she was wasting her time. At best my parents would give me an ‘atta boy' for actually doing it.

The law suit had caused a bit of a crack down on me. But so far I had given them a lot more shit this year than they had given me.

By court order, once I changed my name to a female one I had to undergo counseling for possible ‘gender related issues'. I saw a lady named Ms. Clark for that and it was just twice a month. She was about the only person I poured my heart out to anymore. I told her everything, even about the way I teased the school shrink on purpose. While she agreed with me that it was funny, she didn't see it as appropriate behavior for a girl my age.

It was as if any and all talk about me having the operation to change my sex was taboo at home. If the subject came up, mom, dad, and sis all clammed up right quick. I was giving it some serious consideration. I could only be a shell of a man in a real sense of the word. But there was a good chance I could really be a woman and for now a rather pretty one.

About a week before the school year came to an end, charges were filed against the bus driver that had run me off the road. The police had been watching him almost since the day it happened and he told someone in a chat room how he had tried to kill this kid and even ran them off the road.

Dad and I had talked about it and we had kinda figured someone put him up to it. And now the police knew who it was. My dad's boss was the brother-in-law of the bus driver and according to the police, they had traced the money back to him.

The parent company of the firm dad worked for fired him as soon as the news broke the story. But then dad was fired, too and that put us front and center on big network news channels. That day my lawsuit against the school went through and the verdict was in my favor. I was awarded a very large sum of money. So large, in fact, the school had to pay it out over several years.

I asked my lawyer to file a suit against the firm that had fired my dad and he said he would be more than glad to and this was on the house, he added.

Clayton... something, was the bus driver's name, I forget now. But at the trial we found out that the boy that had kissed me at the New Year's party had been branded a queer. He got beat up several times and eventually had to change schools. That was when his dad offered to pay Clayton to run me off the road and kill me. It almost worked.

They both got life in prison for a ‘murder for hire' scheme.

Try as I may, the reporters just would not leave me and my family alone. It was like a 24/7 camp out for the cops at our house. It got to the point we ordered them breakfast, lunch or dinner at least once a day. I begged and pleaded my dad to let me buy a house for us in another town, but he and mom would have none of that.

I decided since they wouldn't let me do that there had to be another way to handle all this. My lawyer and counselor agreed there was, but I for sure wouldn't like it. At this point, I was rather accustomed to doing things I didn't really like. So what was new about that? I told them.

"All they really want is an interview with you. And the big boys are offering good money for just a fifteen minute spot if you will agree to it," James, my lawyer, sighed.

"You mean like Fox and CNN and so on," I replied.

"Yes, but you say okay to one of them, then they will all want their turn," he added.

"Get the best price you can from Fox, then tell the rest they will have to match it if they want an interview," I stated.

"Why not let me put it out for bids. I'm sure that will run the price up and for all the trouble this has caused, you might as well get all you can?" He all but asked.

"Sure, do it," I said as I ended the call.

Two weeks later I rented a private jet and took mom, dad, and sis with me to the east coast to do the interviews. It took two weeks to get them all done, as some were taped to be aired on a later date. That was fine by me. I was there for the money at this point and I made sure it all went to mom and dad's account. By the time we flew back home things were at least somewhat back to normal. At least the police weren't camped out in our front yard for now.

A sharp eyed business woman approached James about a book deal for my story. James brought her to the house to meet me and the family. I took her up to Roxy's room and let her look at the journal I had kept on my computer from the day this had all started. She was stunned and amazed at all the stuff the school had done, never mind the underhanded tricks that had been played on me, as well.

For legal reasons I can't tell you the dollar amount she offered for my notes and the rights to publish and print the real story and how it all happened. I let James and my dad hash that one out, but the final figure was big enough that my parents would never need to have a job again. The one thing she could not do was publish whatever book she wrote from the journal before I turned twenty-one.

I got tons of modeling jobs the next year and school was really a pill my junior year. My celebrity status, such as it was, caused more than a few problems and there were always a few reporters hanging around. As that year of school came to a close, the school's attorney asked for a meeting with James and I.

At the meeting the attorney told us that to finish paying out the lawsuit would break the school and even then there would be some of it left outstanding. In short, he wanted to know if there was any other way the school could settle the debt and not actually wind up broke.

James spoke first and he was hard bitten to say the least. "I won't speak for Roxy, but for myself. Knowing all the things the school has put her through, I would just as soon see you all go broke," he spat.

I asked James to get the folder with all the paperwork from the original protest. Then I started talking to Mr. Whelan.

"Mr. Whelan, do you recall how all this started almost three years ago now?" I asked.

"I wasn't part of the legal staff at the time and I am sorry to say, but I have no idea how all this started," he smiled.

I took the resolution sis and I had drafted back the night of the P.T.A. in downtown. I used a highlighter from James's desk and marked over the last paragraph. Then I handed it to Mr. Whelan.

I listened as he read it out loud.

"The only resolution we the students are willing to accept is that the uniform policy be dropped and the standard dress code be reinstated." He gave me that look men do so well over the top of their glasses.

"This is what started all this?" He all but asked.

"You got i,." I shot back.

"And I take it these are still your terms?" He asked.

"Yes, but I want one thing more," I added.

"And that is?" He asked.

"I want a hand written, hand signed agreement that the school will adopt a uniform policy over the wishes of the student body," I stated.

"That way the school can't do to someone else what they did to you?" He all but asked.

"Would you accept anything less? What if Roxanne had been your son?" James spoke up.

Once Mr. Whelan delivered my terms, the death threats started all over again. And you might have guessed the school did not accept my terms.

When we signed up for our senior year, I found out that Thomas had gotten the operation over the summer and was now really a girl. I was happy and sad all at the same time. He really wanted to be a girl and now he was, but now I was really the only protester.

I was offered a speaking tour that could be done on the weekends and it was basically a promotional thing for the book that was being written. So while all my friends at school were making plans for the prom, I was out on the road making speech after speech about the forthcoming book and the often cruel way the LGBT community was treated as a whole.

I did all I could to keep the focus off of me as an example. But despite my best efforts I was placed out front just like I had been from the start.

Just three days before the prom William, the boy who had kissed me at the New Year's party, came to the house and spoke with all of us.

He told us how bad he felt about what had happened since that night, not only to him, but to me, as well. He was very apologetic for what his father had done or tried to do and wanted to make things right with me. If I would allow him to, he wanted to take me to the prom. His dad would not have approved, but then he didn't approve of his dad either. His mom was with him and assured us all that this was his idea. He was down to tears and on one knee before I said yes.

That was the last journal entry Roxanne made. My name is Sharon and I will tell you the rest of the story. I have told it many times now and you will just have to excuse the tears because it's not easy to tell.

Prom night I dressed her in the same royal blue gown she won the beauty contest in. She was so beautiful and her spirits were higher than they had been for quite some time.

Dad hired a limo for her the same as he had for me, but she got a bodyguard as well since there had been many, many death threats. There was no doubt in my mind she would be elected as the prom queen and she was. And that night the school district president announced the school uniform policy would be dropped starting the next year.

Roxanne had her victory. According to Thomas, the prom turned into a victory celebration and Roxanne was the toast of the party.

William was so proud to be by her side, anybody that seemed to get too close was quickly pushed aside. The party was still going strong when she reminded William of the time and it was ten till midnight. They walked out to the limo, but the driver wasn't there so they got in the back on their own.

She had just gotten her first cell phone and she called me to tell me about what had happened. I told her how happy I was for her and that a victory was a victory even if she wouldn't be in school to enjoy it.

Then I heard a scream and what sounded like two shots from a gun. The phone went dead and I called 911 a split second later. I ran downstairs and got mom and dad out of bed and we went to the school as fast as we could get there.

When we got there, the bodyguard dad had hired was being attended to by an ambulance worker. He had been knocked unconscious along with the limo driver some time before Roxy and William came to the car.

The police had Mr. Levy in handcuffs and a pistol in a plastic bag for evidence. I knew the second I saw him it was over. I recalled the call he had made to mom and some of the things she told us he said later on.

According to the coroner, William and Roxy were both dead. William was found laying across her and, according to the preliminary report, he had tried to cover her with his own body as the bullets had gone through his back then into Roxy.

At the trial Mr. Levy showed no remorse for his actions and the jury gave him two life sentences. I guess it was a good thing they did, as mom or dad, either one, would have killed him if they could.

I finished law school the next year and thankfully, Roxy had made out a will. I got control over all her money and all the royalties from the use of her pictures, as well as her name. I never spent a penny on myself till after mom and dad were gone.

Till this day there is one school in our state that does not and will not have a school uniform policy. It has been tried many times over the years, but as soon as it comes up pictures of Roxy and the book of her life story come out.

Till the day she retired Ms. Kline would suspend anyone that even spoke ill of Roxy. Even now, well into her eighties, you tread lightly if you speak of Roxy at all around her. She has a 18 X 20 hand painted picture of Roxy from the prom hanging in her living room. She says I can have it when she passes on.

I think the memory of Roxy will live forever in this town. I know she will live forever in my heart.

The end.