Bruce and Luke decide to surprise Tracy, and get a surprise of their own. The consequences last well beyond that day.

        Disclaimer

Any comments about Bikini Beach, how it works, what it does, by characters other than Anya or Grandmother are potentially non-canonical and wrong. As this story is told from a particular point of view by the protagonist, this includes comments by the narrator. The protagonist, and thus the narrative, are what the protagonist believes or interprets from what he is experiencing. Thus some of the mechanics of BB are biased by the protagonist's view and experiences. Furthermore, because of the particular viewpoint of the story, those errors often won't be corrected. When the errors are corrected, the correction will often be disbelieved and rejected.

Despite this I will admit to pushing the limits of Bikini-Beach canon, perhaps even going outside on occasion. Bikini Beach and its principle characters are copyright 1998 by Elrod W.

This post (https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog-entry/64659/muse-wrestli...) persuaded me that waiting to complete and revise my long stories before posting posting may have been an ungood idea. As it is, the sequel still isn't complete more than half a decade later. Consequently, there is NO WARRANTY that this won't be revised as part of the final story.

        Saturday Morning, August 2

Confused about Bruce's summons, I went to my room, got my knapsack, put a few books in to return, and put in my swimsuit wrapped in a towel. I hoped Ma wouldn't notice anything strange. I wished I'd asked what the heck I was going to do with a swimsuit at the library.

"Ma, I'm off to the library, okay?"

"Fine, see you later," answered Ma.

It was a nice walk, about a mile, to the library. I found Bruce waiting right at the main entrance.

"Hey, you made it! Let's head off to the transit center, and I'll tell you what's happening."

"First, let me dump these books in the return bin," I said, as I did so.

We started off. "So what's going on?" I asked.

"We're going to Bikini Beach. We're going to surprise Tracy there."

"Wait a minute. Bikini Beach is still a girls-only water park, right? What are we going to do? Pose as girls? Girls in bikinis?"

Bruce laughed. "No. Remember that Tracy said that they do admit boys. I admit, I don't know what's going on, but I thought we'd surprise her. Mom thought it was a good idea. Dad doesn't know, of course. Mom's paying for both our guest memberships."

I got apprehensive. Should I really accept such a gift? Might I get in trouble or something?

The transit center had two buses to Bikini Beach, and from the looks of things, both were going to overflow. The vast majority were girls, and many were already in swimwear, mostly underneath t-shirts or sun-dresses. To my relief, we weren't the only boys.

I'd seen their buses go by, but I'd never ridden them. This was a new experience for me. It seemed like Bruce was familiar with them, though.

I glanced at a girl in a t-shirt over her swimsuit, about my age plus-or-minus a year. She flashed me a quick smile, sending me sky-high. I spent the next few minutes trying to work up the nerve to go over and talk to her.

Bruce paid for my bus trip with his bus-card, when we boarded. Both of us were left standing on the bus. I kept looking around at all the girls and women. A girl, several years older, standing in front of us, turned to us and asked, "Is this your first visit to Bikini Beach?"

"Yeah," I answered.

Bruce continued, "We're going to surprise my sister there. She's been urging us to visit Bikini Beach, ever since she began going over a month ago."

"I see. Well, enjoy your surprise, guys." She smiled and winked.

We got to Bikini Beach in good time, and got into a line for passes. The lines directly to the turnstiles were even longer and there were more of them, but moved much faster. Despite the crowd, we reached the ticket booth in fairly short order.

"This is a private park," said the lady at the booth, "exclusive for members. We do sell guest memberships for various periods of duration. Now, for example, we're offering a special on three-week memberships."

I let Bruce do the work and make the decisions, because he was paying. We both wound up with three-week memberships. "Shower after you change," said the saleslady. "It's a health requirement."

The men's changing room was very small. I was a bit surprised to find the men's changing room empty, even though some college men had entered only a couple minutes earlier. We both found lockers. I picked one rather far from Bruce, as I always wanted privacy when changing.

I turned on the shower, and was enjoying the soothing water with the pink-tinted mist, when I realized I was feeling really strange, impossible-to-describe creepy. Let's just say that no boy who has never found himself in a girl's body has any concept of what it feels like. I felt as if I were wearing low-rise briefs with unnaturally smooth fronts covering my own unnaturally smooth front. I'd never worn underwear this small. This just wrapped around my hips at the middle, leaving my waist completely bare.

I kept trying in vain to pull them up properly, and the material rubbing between my legs almost felt as if I were masturbating; I was getting strangely excited. I'd definitely enjoy it alone, but not with Bruce nearby, or with someone else potentially entering the room.

I heard the shriek of a familiar voice, followed by serious crying. Tracy? What was she doing here? Was she okay? I ran to the shower the sound came from, where I thought Bruce had gone. I saw Tracy, in only a bikini bottom, crying and pounding the wall.

"Tracy!" I exclaimed.

"I'm not Tracy, I'm Becky!" she exclaimed as she turned toward me. "No, I'm Becky, I mean, I'm Becky -- no, no, no!" She collapsed, now crying in apparent despair.

I realized that I had to postpone my own freak-out, and help Bruce get ahold of himself. I slipped down to the floor, and took him or her in my arms, and let her cry herself out.

I think we both noticed at the same time, that Bruce, or Becky now, was crying into my bare breasts. We both simultaneously blushed and pulled away -- and then burst out in giggles.

"We never held each other like this as boys, naked or clothed," she said. "We must really be girls now, Lucy. And why did I think of you as Lucy just then?"

We helped each other up. "I take it that you weren't actually trying to say Lucy -- I mean--" I stopped, realizing the futility of trying to say it. "You weren't trying to say the L-word," I finished. We both giggled.

"No, I really meant Lucy this time, not like before, when I was trying to say -- the B-R-word." We giggled again, breaking into hysterics.

"Are we feeling better now? I guess misery really does love company," I said.

"Yeah, and life really does imitate farce," Becky followed up. "I mean, I actually joked that Bikini Beach was for girls only!" She giggled. "And I didn't want to be a girl!" We both laughed.

"I wonder," I said. "Are we supposed to shower again this evening so that we return home as ourselves as boys?"

"And repeat every time we come to Bikini Beach? We have three-week passes, you know. Oh, and I just realized," Becky continued. "These are ordinary bikini bottoms. Girls actually go out in public in these?" She scrunched her nose.

"This is a girls-only waterpark. I guess that means girls are allowed to swim topless," I said.

"No, not at all, young ladies," came an unexpected third voice, that of an elderly lady. I shrieked like a girl, and leaped to a shelf of towels, tossing one to Becky and whipping another around my waist.

"Come-come now," said the elderly lady. "Don't be such drama queens. I've seen it all before, many times."

"Not on us, you haven't!" said Becky.

The elderly lady sighed. "In any case, no, we don't allow patrons to go topless here. Here are your tops; put them on." She tossed us our matching bikini tops. I had trouble putting mine on while holding my towel around my waist. Becky shrieked as she dropped her towel while putting on her top.

"Okay, young ladies," the elderly lady continued. "I have to explain certain things. I overheard part of your conversation, and you got quite a bit wrong. It's important to listen and comprehend -- in particular for you, Becky, as you'll discover that not only do you resemble your twin sister, you'll think and behave like her.

"First, you will remain girls until the night after your pass expires. In your case, that's three weeks. Caution, though: if you become pregnant during the period, your change is permanent. You will live the rest of your life as a girl and woman. Both of you have the Pill. Take it daily."

This talk of pregnancy and, by implication, sex was really embarrassing, especially coming from an elderly lady. I was blushing and at a loss for words. Pa and Ma would never get me the Pill -- no way whatsoever. It wasn't just the sex. Ma and Pa were against pills in principle as contrary to Christian Science -- relying on Materia Medica and material means to heal sickness rather than recognizing that God never created sickness.

There was that time, I was seven or eight, when I went on a field trip. A classmate's mom drove a few of us, and I noticed that I was feeling rather nauseated -- even if I didn't know the word. The mom called it "car sickness" and stopped and gave me and another kid half an aspirin. It felt so really really wrong, taking that half pill. Even though I felt better afterwards, I knew I'd been naughty in taking the pill -- influenced by Error. I felt guilty for the longest time afterwards.

"Becky, your mom put you on the Pill the same time she did Tracy," continued the elderly lady. "Lucy, I realize your parents would never get you the Pill. Your pill disc is hidden somewhere only you know, although your Ma would find it if she decided to snoop through your belongings.

"You both know your new names, and you've discovered that you can't say your male names. In fact, taken out of context, you sounded like a couple of giggling little children who've discovered a couple new words and concepts.

"This was a reality-shift. That means you were always Lucy and Becky, to your family, friends, acquaintances, and the rest of the world." Oh God, my family! I couldn't face them like this; I simply couldn't! And Pa hated girls displaying themselves in bikinis, too! "You have a whole history behind you, in many ways similar to your history as boys, but different in many ways as well. Only the two of you will remember your boy lives."

Was this mental malpractice, by any chance? Animal magnetism, hypnotism, and so forth? Even if I could distinguish between false memories and true memories, according to the elderly lady, Ma and Pa and Peter wouldn't; They would only have the false memories.

"One last thing," said the elderly lady, tossing me a tube of sunscreen. "Lucy, you don't want to get sunburnt. Apply this lavishly. Enjoy your stay at Bikini Beach, both of you."

On that note, the elderly lady departed.

I began letting my towel fall, but grabbed it and held it up when I saw Becky to the side. Finally I steeled myself and let the towel drop, exposing myself in my bikini. Her towel was already on the floor, and we'd already seen each other in bikini bottoms.

"How am I ever to go outside like this?" I wondered softly, mostly to myself.

"I dunno," said Becky. "It seems exciting in a sense, to go out and expose myself like this. Deliciously, excitedly forbidden." She quietly giggled.

"Forbidden is right," I said angrily. "If Pa catches me like this, I'm dead. I'm practically naked!" This bikini top the old lady tossed us was mere nitpicking. Pa hated it when girls and ladies exhibited themselves in public. I never had any idea I'd potentially be on the receiving end of his wrath.

"Anyways, I'm going to take her advice, and put this sunscreen on." I promptly opened the tube and smeared the stuff all over my body. Surprisingly, the arms of this new body of mine had no trouble reaching my back.

"Don't forget your neck, your face and nose, your ears, behind your ears," said Becky.

"You sound like Ma," I told her, as I took her advice. She giggled, and asked, "May I use it now?" when I finished. I handed it to her, and she smothered herself with it, too.

She handed the remaining sunscreen back to me, and asked, "Shall we take the plunge now?"

"Yeah," I hesitated. "But we'll have to return it before we go home tonight."

"Huh?" she said, then began giggling until she dissolved into full-fledged laughter. The joke wasn't original; I'd read it somewhere. Then she said, "Actually, we can't take the plunge until we find a pool or pond somewhere."

That set us both off in more laughter and giggles. I just had to go over and briefly hug her, after which she took my hand and said, "Let's go."

We opened the door. The sudden brightness momentarily blinded me, but once that cleared up, I had my first view of Bikini Beach.

"Wow!" Becky breathed softly.

Well, at least most of the girls and women were in bikinis like the ones we wore. They seemed to have no problem going around in public like that. Apparently, my small bikini bottom was normal for girls, and having grown up with them all their lives, didn't know how exposing they were. On the other hand, I always wore knee-length swimming trunks to swim in, and underwear three times as high under my pants, and I felt awfully naked and exposed.

"I hope we can find Tracy in this crowd," Becky commented.

We eventually found her, along with several friends, relaxing at one of the pools. They were all in bikinis like most everyone else. Now was the moment of truth. Would they recognize us as Becky and Lucy? Or would Tracy freak out at the appearance of an unknown identical twin accompanied by a stranger?

"Tracy!" Becky called out.

It occurred to me that yesterday, I'd gone all googly-eyed at Tracy in a near-bikini. But now, seeing Tracy in a bikini seemed almost normal.

Tracy turned toward us, then jumped up and ran to us. "Oh-my-God, Becky! Lucy! What a surprise!" She quickly embraced us both. "Guys, this is my twin sister -- obviously -- and our friend Lucy. I've been trying to get them to just try Bikini Beach for the longest time."

Another Asian girl approached, a head taller than me, very pretty in her own neon-orange bikini. She looked familiar. "Did you, by any chance, visit the library on Wednesday?" she asked me.

"Yes. That was you! Carol Hsu, right? I was so hoping to see you again!" A bit nervously, but remembering how she'd hugged me at the library, I went up and hugged her. She hugged me back hard.

"Oh-my-God!" said Tracy. "Lucy mentioned meeting a `Carol'. I had no idea it was you! Um, this is Vanessa King, and this is Faline Glazer."

"I'm pleased to meet both of you," said Vanessa rather formally, reaching out and shaking our hands. Vanessa was a very tall black girl, considerably taller than Carol even, and quite handsome with her white bikini contrasting her own dark skin. "Tracy has told us a lot about you."

"Don't be so formal with them, Vanessa," said Tracy. So Vanessa came and embraced us both. Hugging like this made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, even as it made me feel a little uncomfortable. At home, we weren't a hugging family.

"Tracy says she kept trying to get you to visit Bikini Beach," said Carol. "But you've been reluctant to come, both of you."

"This place is really awesome," added Faline. "I simply can't understand why anyone would be reluctant to come here. Anyway, you came." Faline was blonde, also pretty, her sky-blue bikini matching her sky-blue eyes.

"We thought we'd surprise Tracy," said Becky, with a little titter. "We certainly got our own surprise."

I thought it might have been a bad idea to mention our own surprise. It seemed as if even Tracy thought we were her identical twin Becky and their friend Lucy.

Vanessa glanced at us out of the corner of her eyes as she said, "Bikini Beach often catches first-time visiters by surprise." I couldn't help suspecting that Becky had given us away to her, as former boys.

"So Lucy, how did you like that sexy novel you got at the library?" asked Carol with a grin.

I blushed hard and was caught tongue-tied.

"You didn't say anything about a *sexy* novel, Lucy!" said an outraged Becky, as Tracy giggled.

"I never tell anyone about reading sexy books," I huffed. "It was thoroughly embarrassing when Carol caught me with that one." I thought back to that opening prologue, and wondered how the heck I could have found it so exciting. The description of the girl's abortion was just outright sickening. But I didn't mention that to the others. Fortunately, other scenes were genuinely arousing even if embarrassing.

"Didn't it occur to you that I might want to read it, too?" asked Becky.

"Now that you mention it," said Tracy, "I'm sure all of us would love to read it."

"I'd try it," said Carol. "If it's good. What was the book again? I don't remember the title."

"It's `Lace', and it's by Shirley Conran," I answered. "I've begun reading it, although I haven't finished it. It's very long. I've gotten quite into it."

"I'm sure you have," snarked Becky.

I sniffed at her. "It has quite a complex plot. In some ways, at some spots, it reminds me of books by Louisa May Alcott."

"That, I find really hard to believe," said Vanessa. "But I'd like to read it."

Faline swallowed. "I'd like to read it, too," she stammered with a blush. "Mom and Dad would probably kill me if I did, though."

"Only if they catch you, or if someone tells them. We won't tell them. Right, girls?" said Tracy.

"Right," everyone said in unison, including myself. I shuddered at the thought that Ma, Pa, or Peter might discover the sexy books I'd been looking at -- or might discover that I was a girl in a bikini. Although now that I thought of it, I did remember Ma suggesting that I bring my bikini. I was confused now.

I was scared about this but... "Okay, next time I come, I'll bring the book, if I remember. You all get together here Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays?" I asked, remembering Tracy's Bikini Beach days.

"We'll be sure to remind her. Right, Tracy?" said Becky.

"Right," answered Tracy.

"Perhaps I'll bring it to the mall on Monday and give it to Becky and Tracy. We often meet there between my activities. But how will I find you all when I come?" I asked, suddenly worried, observing the sheer numbers here.

"Don't worry. We always find each other." Vanessa came and hugged me. "Guys, let's show the new girls around Bikini Beach," said Vanessa. "We've relaxed here long enough."

"Yeah!" said Tracy hopping up. "Let's go!"

I couldn't process all the attractions here; there were so many, I felt confused and lost half the time. We found a group of volleyball courts with sand, currently all occupied.

"We have enough for two teams." said Faline. "Let's play volleyball!"

"Great idea!" said Vanessa. But we had to wait until one of the courts was free.

Two girls, black in a bikini and Asian in a one-piece, perhaps a little younger than us, were tossing a volleyball back and forth over the net in one of the courts. Apparently, they were trying to keep the ball in action as long as possible.

The black girl caught the ball and walked up to the fence, meeting the Asian girl. They talked together, and at one point, the black girl pointed toward us. Then they dumped the ball into the ball basket, and came near us, apparently about to depart.

"The court's free now; it's all yours," said the black girl.

"No-no-no, don't leave on our account!" exclaimed Tracy.

"Yeah, stay and play with us," added Vanessa. "Teams of four are better than teams of three anyway!"

They stayed, and we wound up playing a few games. We all switched between teams. It was fun, although I wasn't any good at volleyball. The two girls introduced themselves as Jennifer Lam and Xena Anderson.

Eventually, we stopped. "Let's go on the Pipeline," suggested Carol.

"Oh, yes-yes-yes, it's awesome!" added Tracy. "Becky, Lucy, you're in for the ride of your life!"

"If you don't mind losing your bikini top," added Xena. "We tried it earlier this morning. Jen's the only one properly dressed for it."

"Happens to all of us," said Carol. "We're all girls here, though."

This reminder that we were all girls reminded me that I was a girl now, and caused the creepiness down between my legs to flare up. I dared not scratch the itch, so I squeezed my legs together. I hoped nobody noticed.

"Why are you wearing a one-piece, anyway, Jen?" Tracy asked. "This is Bikini Beach, not One-Piece Waterpark."

"Don't pay her any heed. Wear any swimsuit you want," said Faline, glaring at Tracy.

"Variety and diversity are good things. Don't let the group you're in pressure you one way or the other," added Vanessa.

I wasn't too concerned about losing my bikini top, since I was accustomed to swimming topless in knee-length swimming trunks. I was already way more naked than I'd ever been in public. For some reason now though, the prospect of the girls losing their tops didn't excite me as it would have before.

I realized anew how practically naked I was. "Next time I come here, I'm wearing a one-piece, too. Pa hates it when girls wear bikinis or otherwise exhibit themselves immodestly." One-piece suits were too revealing as well, showing 100% leg plus extra. But I couldn't help that.

"Anyways, let's try the Pipeline. I've never been on it before," I added. "Today's my first day here, so let's do it."

"It's our first day, too," said Xena.

We got in line, and as we waited, we all introduced ourselves. Jen and Xena told us more about themselves. "I live with my older brother, Andy," said Xena. "My parents sent me here to live with him when I began middle school, because the schools were better and the area was safer. Jen and I met right at the start of middle school, and we've been best friends ever since." She wrapped her arm around Jen's shoulders and pulled Jen to her.

Jen blushed a little, and spoke softly. "Mom found out about Bikini Beach only a few days ago, and brought both of us today. We're supposed to meet her for lunch at noon, near the entrance."

"That probably gives us enough time for the Pipeline, but nothing more," said Vanessa. "I'm supposed to meet Mom and Helen for lunch. Same place. We all usually go there for lunch. Either there or the Tiki Hut."

"Aunt Yuko's here today," said Tracy. "We're going to surprise her with Lucy and Becky." She giggled.

As we reached the stairs up to the top of the Pipeline and started climbing, Becky asked Xena, "Were you ever teased or tormented about `Xena, the Warrior Princess' when you were a child?"

"Oh, all the time! It's all the stranger because I was born and named before Xena ever appeared on television!"

"Then where did your parents ever get that name?" asked Faline.

"I don't recall ever getting a definite answer, and I don't recall ever asking directly. Funny."

Talking stopped as we made our way up to the top of the Pipeline. It was a rather tiring climb.

About halfway up, Jen said, "Go on ahead, guys. I just have to stop and rest a little."

I was getting a bit tired too, so I said, "I'll stay and rest with you."

"Me too," said Becky, as Xena said, "I'll stay with you, Jen."

"Wimps, all of you!" said Tracy. "But I'll stop and rest as well. We stay together, right everyone?"

"Absolutely," said Vanessa.

We all rested and let others go by. We'd passed other resting people earlier, so we weren't the only ones to tire out. But the respite was only temporary. We started up again, and my apprehension grew as we approached the top, and I saw how truly steep and long the starting downward slide looked. But we eventually reached the top, the entrance to the Pipeline.

There were three separate slides, so we had to go down in several turns. Vanessa, Xena, and Jen went first. Faline and Tracy went second, with Tracy persuading Becky to go with her. Carol stayed with me for the last, perhaps to provide encouragement. But all too soon, our turn came.

I slowly stepped up to the launch point and sat down, wondering what the heck I was doing there. I watched as Carol launched herself down, hesitating at that last final plunge myself. Someone pushed me.

I shrieked louder than I'd ever shrieked -- at least not since the elderly lady appeared in the men's changing room. I was jostled around until I dropped into the pool below. I noticed my bikini top was gone, but I found it in short order floating in the water. I grabbed it and swam to the edge of the pool and got out before putting it on again.

"You seem awfully nonchalant about losing your bikini top," said Faline, who was tying her own top on. "I was majorly embarrassed when it happened to me the first time."

Oops, I hope I didn't give myself away as a former boy. I tried to cover it up. "Hey, we're all girls here. And we're already practically naked. What difference does a top mean?"

"All the difference in the world," said Faline with a huff.

I had no words for that. I thought of Pa, and the trouble I'd be in if he caught me in a bikini -- and I had no idea how he'd react if he caught me as a girl. I wasn't sure I believed the elderly lady that I was always Lucy to my family. Even seeing it with my own eyes with Tracy and Becky, I still was very uncertain and scared.

As we made our way back toward the Bikini Beach entrance, we got to know each other better. Along with Tracy, Becky, and myself, Carol would also begin high school at Westside High in a few weeks. Vanessa and Faline would attend Central High, and Jen and Xena would both begin eighth grade at Adams Middle School.

"Xena and I are taking summer school classes as well," said Jen. "We're taking algebra at Central High, and Cantonese classes at a private Chinese language school."

Xena added, "We're both in the same algebra class, but Jen's way more advanced in Cantonese. I get lots of practice with her and her family, though." She continued in angry-sounding rapid-fire gibberish, and Jen answered in like manner.

"Do any of you understand what they're saying?" asked Faline. "Carol? Becky? Tracy?"

Carol answered, "No!" while Becky answered, "Hrmph!" and Tracy answered, "No-no-no!"

Vanessa said, "Faline, I hate to say this, but your question marks you as the stereotypical ignorant American."

Faline burst into tears. "I'm so sorry!" she said. "I'm just a ditsy blonde."

I felt very sorry for her, and I went over to hug her, even though I was still a little uncomfortable with the hugging practice. Jen, Becky, and Carol got to her first, and crowded the rest of us out.

"I don't think you should have said that, Vanessa," said Xena.

"Oh, you're right. You're absolutely right." Vanessa looked down, distressed and on the verge of tears herself.

I now felt sorry for Vanessa, and went to hug her. Xena did too, and Tracy joined us.

Both groups stayed in their embrace for a few minutes. Then Carol called out, "Group hug, everyone!" We broke apart only to recombine in different combinations.

I would be quite embarrassed if anyone in the family found out about this, but this hugging business had a certain cozy feeling to it. I could quite take to it -- as long as Ma and Pa and Peter never found out.

Although I didn't have the kind of crush on Carol that I'd had on her -- or perhaps her memory -- as Luke, I was still quite attracted to her. So when we hugged, my head pressed up against her bosom, and then I stood up on tip-toe and kissed her cheek.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, and pulled me hard against her, my head smothered against her breasts.

I had to twist my head to breath, and there were Xena and Jen, locked into an embrace, kissing for all their worth. Vanessa, Faline, Becky, and Tracy, in a line with arms around each others' shoulders, were watching them with sharp smiles.

Apparently Jen noticed that she and Xena were now the center of attention, because she suddenly broke off the kiss and pulled away. "You won't tell Mom, will you? Please?" she pleaded.

"No, of course not. None of us will, right?" answered Vanessa, looking pointedly at every one of us.

"No-no-no," I said, with similar exclamation echoing around.

"You don't think bad of us, do you?" asked Jen fearfully.

"Nah, it's so romantic!" answered Becky.

"I suspect something similar between Nancy -- she's my older sister -- and her friend Cindy," said Carol. "They're always together."

"Andy's fine with it," said Xena. "My parents and the rest of my family are a long ways away, and they don't know. Although I'm pretty sure they'd be okay with it, too."

All too soon, we were approaching the eating place near the entrance. Tracy stopped us. "Hey, Becky. You go in first. Let's see if Aunt Yuko is fooled and thinks you are me."

"Great idea!" said Becky with a little laugh. "Let's fool her!" They both giggled.

"Lucy, you wait outside with me. Your presence would be a dead giveaway," said Tracy. We listened right outside the door as the others went inside, hoping to hear Aunt Yuko's reaction.

"Hey, Aunt Yuko!" said Becky.

"Becky, what a surprise, you finally came!" said Aunt Yuko. A moment later, she asked, "So where's Tracy?"

Tracy entered to join Aunt Yuko and Becky, and we all followed her. I Aunt Yuko in a Bikini for the first time. I wondered for a minute why I wasn't going all bug-eyed But then I hadn't gone all bug-eyed at Tracy either -- unlike yesterday in the mall. Bikini Beach must have done something to my mind. I reminded myself that in Science, there was One Mind, and it occurred to me that That One Mind (God) never went bug-eyed I also had to remind myself that I didn't believe this One Mind business.

"Lucy! You came too!" said Aunt Yuko. "This *is* a surprise."

I giggled. "We, Becky and I, thought to surprise Tracy and you by coming and trying out Bikini Beach. It was her idea."

"And I take it, it was Becky's idea to pretend to be Tracy when meeting me?" said Aunt Yuko.

"No," answered Tracy. "It was mine. For some reason, I thought we might be able to fool you."

Aunt Yuko said, "Fool me? Oh come on, girls. I've known both of you since you were born. Of course I'd recognize Becky at once."

"Even in bikinis here at Bikini Beach?" asked Tracy. "I don't think you ever saw Becky in a bikini -- not recently, at least."

"Yes, even here at Bikini Beach. True, people who don't know you might think they're seeing double -- perhaps even with your different colored bikinis. Technicolor double, perhaps. Nevertheless, you two have subtle differences that ring out `Tracy' or `Becky'. Now double it with your manner. Becky was shyer, more hesitant, than Tracy, in greeting me -- most likely because this was her first visit to Bikini Beach.

"So how did you get here? By bus, or did your mother bring you?"

"We took the bus," answered Becky.

"Well then, I'll take you home this evening," said Aunt Yuko. "Lucy, too."

I met the parents and siblings of the girls as well. I met Vanessa's mom and her nine-year-old sister Helen. Carol introduced us to her older sister Nancy, and Nancy's girlfriend Cindy. They were seventeen, and would be seniors at Westside High. To my surprise, Carol was a couple inches taller than her older sister. Otherwise, they looked very much alike. "Did you know my brother Peter?" I asked.

"Peter... Cuttington?" asked Nancy.

"Yeah, he was in a few of our classes," Cindy said.

"I think he graduated last spring," added Nancy. "He had a crush on me."

"Yeah," I said, a bit squicked by the idea of Peter having a crush on a girl. "He's off to college in late September. Pacific Tech."

"Ooooo!" they both said simultaneously. I couldn't help laughing.

I also met Jen's mother, Mrs. Lam or Ms. Cheung, her maiden name. Jen was her only child. "But Xena's been almost like a second daughter to me, almost Jen's twin sister. She's gotten Jen involved in activities that Jen would normally avoid due to her shyness. It was very nice of all of you to take them in and include them in your activities."

We all had lunch, and then relaxed an hour or so. I put on another layer of sunscreen, hoping to avoid sunburn. We talked at random, me dozing away off and on.

At one point, I woke up in the middle of a conversation about our upcoming schools.

"We won't let the rivalry between Central and Westside sabotage our friendship, right?" asked Carol.

"No, of course not," said Vanessa. "You and I have been together almost the entire summer."

We had a wonderful afternoon sampling the water rides, swimming, and getting to know the rest of the girls more. Before we knew it, it was 4:30, and I thought I should be heading home for supper. I was dreading the encounter with my family, but I knew it had to happen sometime.

When I mentioned this to Aunt Yuko, she said, "Let me call your parents and see if you can stay with us, until the park closes tonight. That okay?"

"Wonderful!" I said.

Aunt Yuko called home and spoke with Ma. After a moment, she called me over and handed me the phone. "Your Ma wants to talk to you."

"Ma?"

"Hi Lucy. It sounds like you're enjoying Bikini Beach."

"Yes I am, Ma."

"And you'd like to stay later, until it closes. The twins' Aunt Yuko has promised to take you home."

"Yes, if that's okay."

"It's fine with me. Pa and Peter don't know you're at Bikini Beach, and we should keep it that way. I'm telling them that you're spending the day with the Miura twins and their aunt."

So it was agreed: I would stay until closing time, and return home with Tracy and Becky.

"You call your mother, `Ma'?" asked Faline.

"Yes...?" I answered, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"And she calls her father, `Pa'," said Tracy. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"Oh. Like `Little House on the Prairie' then?" said Xena.

"Yeah, we hear a lot of that," I answered with resignation.

When it was time to go, I went by myself to the men's changing room -- identified as the women's overflow room on this side. I only realized that Becky wasn't with me just before I entered the room. I was scared, afraid that I might have gotten lost or that I might be left behind or something.

Unlike before, several women and girls were in this locker room. I suspected, although wasn't certain, that they were all former boys and men. I found my locker, with Luke's clothes replaced by clothes Lucy might have worn: a turquoise nearly-knee-length, short-sleeved dress, plain white bra, panties, and socks. I wished my clothes had stayed jeans and t-shirt, even if they had to be girls' versions. So not only would my family see me as a girl, they were going to see me in a dress.

While brushing my hair, I noticed that I was by habit brushing my hair. I realized that as long I as I didn't think about it, I did things a girl would do. I also realized right then that if Luke's clothes could be replaced by Lucy's, it wasn't such a stretch for Becky to find her clothes in the women's changing room. So that's probably where Becky went with Tracy, Aunt Yuko, and the other girls.

And indeed, that was the case. I finished changing and exited to wait outside the women's shower room. Becky, Tracy, and Aunt Yuko emerged shortly after, and Becky was in girls' clothes as well, jeans and t-shirt. Tracy and Aunt Yuko wore long t-shirts over their bikinis.

Aunt Yuko drove Tracy, Becky, and me in her tiny car. Tracy and I sat in back, while Becky sat up front with Aunt Yuko. We all talked about today at Bikini Beach. Aunt Yuko and Tracy were both very curious to hear our first impressions of Bikini Beach.

I was rather sleepy when we finally got to my house. Nevertheless, as I got out of the car, I asked, "Would you like to come in for a few moments?"

"I really have to get Tracy and Becky home, and get home myself. Thanks for the offer," replied Aunt Yuko. Frankly, I was relieved. I didn't want my family to see them in their outfits.

Peter, in the living room reading a book, barely shifted his head as he greeted me. "Hey, Lucy."

"Hi, Peter," I replied, as I headed straight upstairs to my bedroom. Not only was I very sleepy, but I was also too embarrassed to face my family as a girl in a dress.

I undressed down to my panties without really thinking about it, and more or less at random opened a drawer and pulled out one of Pa's "borrowed" t-shirts.

I stepped across the hallway into the bathroom to relieve myself and brush my teeth, before going to bed and conking out.

        Sunday, August 3

"Lucy!" said Buster.

"Don't call me that!" I shouted. "My name's Luke!"

"Lucy gir-ell! Lucy! Lucy! Lucy!" All the big boys and even several classmates were surrounding me and chanting "Lucy!"

"Don't call me Lucy! I'm not a girl!"

"Lucy! Gir-ell! Lucy! Gir-ell! Lucy! Gir-ell!"

Ma and Pa both appeared. It was horrible enough to be tormented by the boys falsely calling me a girl; it was embarrassing for Ma and Pa to hear them. They scowled down at me. I could only look way up at them in shame and fear. "Is what we're hearing true?" Pa asked severely. "You are a girl?"

I couldn't stand it; the sickening shame just swept over me--

--and I awoke. My heart beat like crazy, and I was breathing heavily. It was only a nightmare, and I was in bed at home. Just a nightmare, I kept telling myself, just a nightmare. I caught my breath, jumped out of bed, and dashed across the hallway into the bathroom. The nightmare of being called a girl, parents towering over me and scowling down at me about being a girl, kept racing through my mind.

As the rushlet shot out to my relief, I realized that I'd sat on the toilet without thinking. Not only that, I was peeing strangely. Not only that, I didn't even have the equipment to pee the right way. Not any more. It was still the strangest feeling.

I remembered my visit to Bikini Beach yesterday. Unexpectedly, both Becky and I'd turned into girls. Becky? No, of course it was Bruce. He *became* Becky when *he* turned into a girl.

I remained on the toilet pondering my current situation, until Peter knocked at the door. "Just a minute!" I called out. I wiped myself, only noticing afterwards that I'd done so, as I pulled up my panties and let down my t-shirt. I washed my hands, and only then opened the door, embarrassed at Peter's seeing me in my skimpy sleepwear, but unable to help it.

He was in boxers and nothing else, not exactly covering either. He was also unnaturally tall -- almost two heads taller! I remembered that Peter and I as Lucy saw each other occasionally in sleepwear, skimpy or otherwise, and didn't think about it. Just like Peter with me as Luke, in fact. Ma and Pa hardly ever saw either of us in sleepwear, since we usually put on bathrobes before showering, and pretty much any time we left our rooms other than nighttime.

"Had a nightmare, too, Lucy?" he asked as we passed each other and he entered the bathroom.

"Yeah," I answered.

"Care to talk about it?" he asked as he closed the door.

"No, I'll be fine." There was no way I could tell him about my nightmare. I mean, if he always thought of me as Lucy, there's no way he could possibly understand my dream, let alone the humiliation of my dream. I returned to bed.

I gradually woke up, but continued dozing in bed for the longest time. The sky was bright blue outside the window. Finally, I felt that I just absolutely had to get up. It was Sunday, and I had to go to Sunday School and Church. I sleepily sat up, glanced at the clock, and found it was only 6:30. No wonder I still felt like sleeping! I decided to go to the bathroom before returning for more sleep.

As I got back in bed, my over-large t-shirt rolled up. The strange creepiness between my legs seemed to flare up, and I couldn't resist reaching down between my legs, under my panties, to rub or scratch it. "Ahh!!!!" Oh my, that felt wonderful! I jolted in fear and embarrassment that Peter might have heard me. This was so naughty, especially on a Sunday morning.

I turned on my side and curled up, trying to shut off the feelings and get back to sleep. Despite things, I was still sleepy. I really had to turn my mind away from these thoughts -- just think of something else.

How about geometry? I just remembered: not only had Peter never given me that geometry textbook, I hadn't even taken algebra in eighth grade. I was preregistered to take algebra in ninth grade in high school instead.

`Why did Bikini Beach do that to me?' I wondered angrily. I lay in bed fuming, eventually figuring out that I wasn't going to get any more sleep, no matter how sleepy I felt.

I got up and put on a light-green bathrobe. The bathrobe was cuter, softer, and more pastel than I was used to, but I decided I could live with it. I was about to go and take my shower, when I remembered that I was supposed to take the Pill today and every day.

I'd never taken the Pill before, even as Lucy. I'd never had it, even. I checked the place I "knew" it was hidden, and sure enough, there was a complete Pill disc. I guessed that in this Reality, the Pill disc was a gift from the elderly lady.

I was trying to decide whether I should take the Pill, when it occurred to me that I might read the instructions, just in case. They were extremely difficult to read, so I wound up skimming most of it. The different-colored pills were inactive but iron-enriched, to be taken during my period.

My period! Was I actually going to bleed ... down there? Yep, I had the vague memory of bleeding as Lucy. Not only that, I was due to begin in a week or so.

While reflecting on that, I kept thinking about the Pill disc. Should I take a Pill? Or should I follow Ma, Pa, and Christian Science, and simply flush the pills down the toilet? I just knew Ma or Pa would catch me with the Pill sooner or later.

After pacing the room a while, I finally decided to take a pill, with no little sense of guilt. I had to go to the bathroom for the water to chase it down, so I did and took my shower. I avoided looking at myself in the mirror, afraid of what I might see. What little I saw out of the corner of my eye was a cringe-inducingly cute naked girl.

Back in my bedroom, I paced the room, telling myself that I really had to go downstairs and face the family. But could I really face the family as a girl? Before, it was only Peter, and we were both half-asleep or otherwise preoccupied at the time. I felt naughty and guilty facing them as a girl, and naughty and guilty having just taken a pill. Mothers were very good at detecting when their children had done something naughty, and Ma was no exception. If Ma didn't see being a girl as naughty, she would just conclude I'd done something else naughty, and perhaps guess what it was.

Being caught with the Pill would be especially mortifying, indicating that I thought about sex. No, not just about sex, but about having sex -- getting naked with someone else, a boy. When I thought about it, I was pretty sure that Peter would keep the Pill secret if he discovered it, and even express approval. But that didn't help my fear of being mortified if he caught me.

I found slippers matching my bathrobe -- for some reason, I had slippers matching every one of my three pastel-colored bathrobes: green, pink, and yellow. I guess that Lucy had an overdeveloped sense of cuteness. Or maybe Ma did. Or maybe Bikini Beach did, in giving me those clothes.

I finally left my room and went downstairs. Nobody was there. Now that I realized it, it was obvious. It was a lot earlier than I usually awoke on Sundays.

I remembered that I had piano lessons the next day. Mrs. Prudence was my teacher. I had conflicting memories of her -- was she somewhat stern, yet friendly? Or was she stern and scary? Did I like weekly piano lessons, or did I fear them? My memories were mixing with Lucy's memories. I remembered noticing as Luke after a few weeks of taking taking piano lessons in my TKD uniform, Mrs. Prudence had become considerably nicer.

So I practiced the piano for ten or twenty minutes. The next thing I knew, Peter was leaning over me at the piano. "Wake up, Lucy. Breakfast time."

"I woke up earlier this morning, and couldn't get back to sleep," I said in an attempt to explain.

"I understand," said Peter. "No problem."

Ma and Pa were at the table. "Now that we're all here," said Ma, as she started the Mental Work. As I ate breakfast and listened, I wondered why I found the Mental Work so boring before. It was, in fact, rather interesting. During the `mental malpractice' sections, I wondered if it was mental malpractice that made everyone forget that I was Luke. Neither Ma nor Pa seemed to have any problem with how I looked or acted; they noticed nothing strange. Was it mental malpractice that made the Mental Work sound more interesting than before?

I had an epiphany: did mental malpractice make me think that I was Luke until yesterday, then transformed into Lucy? Everything in my room was Lucy's, and my unthinking habits and some of my tastes were apparently Lucy's. Yet I still thought at times like Luke. Were my Luke thoughts and Luke memories simply Error? A product of mental malpractice?

`Oh, come-on,' I told myself. 'I'm Luke. I'm just stuck in this cute little body, wearing a cute little bathrobe.' How did I know that? I remembered it all too well, my surprise transformation into Lucy and Bruce's surprise transformation into Becky. As far as I could tell, Ma, Pa, and Peter remembered me perfectly well as Lucy from my birth. In fact, the elderly lady warned us of that. That meant that either my memories or their memories were all off.

So how did I know my memory wasn't all off? Of course, I didn't. There was one test I could try. If I could say, "I'm Luke," that meant my memories were all wrong and I really was Lucy. If I couldn't, that meant that I was really Luke, and Bikini Beach changed me and blocked me from saying my name.

Or it might mean that the same mental malpractice that made me think I was Luke also blocked me from saying "Luke". Or the mental malpractice might have me falsely remember doing the test and proving I was really Luke.

Oh ugh! I just couldn't handle all this convolution.

"What's up, Lucy?" Peter startled me out of my thoughts. "You seem to be concentrating quite a bit. The Mental Work's long over."

"Just thinking about memory and such. What happens if I can't trust my memories."

"You don't really want to get into that," said Peter. "You'll drive yourself crazy or work yourself into severe depression."

"Now now," said Ma. "We must remember that we are all God's Perfect Children. There is One Mind, and we can't have memory problems or depression. Any such claims are but delusion."

"And we can't be deluded either, because we are the Perfect Children of God. Likewise with animal magnetism and mental malpractice," said Peter gruffly. "Contrary to everything on the Mental Work."

"Young man," said Ma to Peter. "Let's hear no more of that. Got that? It takes years of careful study to properly understand Christian Science."

"Yes, Ma," said Peter. "Just make sure you get it right, and aren't harming people in the process."

"I remind you that that kind of talk got you barred from Church."

"I have to go up and get dressed," I said, wanting to avoid hearing any further argument.

"Finish your breakfast first," said Pa.

So I stayed and finished my breakfast. To my relief, Ma and Peter ended their argument right then and there.

I did go upstairs to get dressed after finishing breakfast. Most of my dresses would do, there was no difference between a dress I as Lucy routinely wore, and a dress I wore to Sunday School and Church. I noticed a couple dress-suits in my closet, that would simply not do, either for Church or for everyday wear: a miniskirt suit and one minidress -- a black, strapless dress that topped out above my breasts and below my underarms. It was almost a tube of material, but it bulged out at the hips, in at my waist, and outward again shaped for my breasts. How and when did I ever get this one?

Just for the sake of it, I pulled out the black minidress and held it up to myself in bra and panties, and checked it out in the mirror. Yikes! That was a mistake. Not only would the dress show way too much leg *and* way too much top, I got to really see myself in the mirror!

I was just too cute for words -- and that wasn't a compliment! My dimpled smile, especially when smiling subconsciously... And ugh, those legs, precisely the legs I couldn't help ogling as a guy... It was my nightmare come alive! And that body of mine was outside wearing a bikini all day yesterday!

A month earlier, on July 4th, I'd worn one of my miniskirt suits to clarinet lesson, for Brandon's benefit. Ah, Brandon Oregon, what a dreamboat! What a-- What was I thinking? Having a huge crush on my clarinet teacher? Of all the--! Bikini Beach, why did you do this to me!?

That miniskirt had engendered two comments from Brandon: the first was complimenting me on how I looked, and the second was complimenting my posture. I had to squeeze my legs tight together because of the miniskirt -- there's no leg-crossing when you play clarinet -- and hold my clarinet up at a higher angle. That turned out to be a better clarinet posture. Holding onto every word of Brandon's, I'd kept that posture ever since. It was a good posture, and I hoped I would stick to it as Luke. At least some good came from that otherwise nauseating crush.

I picked out a decent dress at random, blue, fluffy short-sleeves, extending almost to my knees like most of my dresses. I found a hair ribbon matching my dress, and after brushing my hair thoroughly, tied it in a simple ponytail, a common hairstyle of Lucy's, one I heartily agreed with. I added a pair of clips to keep the fringes from my eyes. Glancing back at the mirror, I saw a cute girl I'd get a huge crush on, simple yet alluring -- embarrassingly, nauseatingly cute knowing it was myself.

I noticed one major advantage that almost made it worth everything else: I didn't have to wear that horrid tight, ill-fitting suit. These dresses, at least, were nice and comfortable, my legs felt free, even if things got a bit airy down below. Uhoh, I was beginning to want to touch myself again. I hoped I wasn't going to feel like that all the time.

Finally, it was time to go to Sunday School. As Luke, I was envious of Peter. Normally, students attended Sunday School until they turned 20. Peter was barred from Sunday School and Church, and he was only 17. As far as I could tell, Lucy's thoughts were similar to Luke's, although more recently reached. Thank goodness, I didn't want my beliefs sabotaged by my transformation.

Peter was taking his shower as I went downstairs. Ma was going to drop me off at Sunday School and return home. Ma and Pa would arrive later for Church service. I had to attend both. It wasn't going to be easy facing Sunday School as Lucy in a dress.

And I was still quite nervous about facing Ma and Pa as a girl wearing a dress. I didn't know why, since I'd already faced them as a girl wearing a pastel bathrobe. I guess the dress was unmistakably feminine, over and above anything else. And then there were my legs.

I went and pulled out the longest pair of blue socks that I could find; they went almost up to my knees. Black shoes completed the outfit.

I nervously left my bedroom and went downstairs. We still had some time before I had to depart, so I practiced a little more on the piano. It was quite easier practicing with the pedals with my shoes on.

Finally, Ma called me over and I had to go to Sunday School. I brought a book to cover the waiting times.

I was about to get into the back seat where I usually sat, when Ma told me to sit up front. As we drove, Ma asked, "So how did you like Bikini Beach, yesterday?"

"I liked it a lot," I answered. "I got to meet Tracy's friends there, and they're all a wonderful bunch. The water rides and attractions were fun, but I think the best part will be the friends -- if I can go the days they all meet." I was concerned Ma might not let me go every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday for the next three weeks.

"I understand you got a three-week guest membership," said Ma.

"Yeah. That was okay, wasn't it? The last day is Saturday, just before I begin school. The girls meet there every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday."

We arrived at Church in short order. Books other than authorized Christian Science literature were prohibited from church, so I hid the book in the church auditorium behind a hymnal, before going to Sunday School.

Sunday School began with a hymn, and continued with the Subject (Love), Golden Text, Responsive Reading of the Lesson-Sermon, and the Lord's Prayer. Then we separated into classes.

My class had two other students besides me: a thirteen-year-old girl, and a sixteen-year-old boy. The boy was kind of cute, but he wasn't Brandon Oregon. I was aghast at the crush I had on my clarinet teacher, but I just couldn't help it. This wasn't the kind of Love that was the synonym of God.

The teacher pointed out the passage in Science and Health: "The material so-called gases and forces are counterfeits of the spiritual forces of divine Mind, whose potency is Truth, whose attraction is Love, whose adhesion and cohesion are Life, perpetuating the eternal facts of being."

The teacher continued, "You heard that opposite charges attract and like charges repel? Push two bar magnets together one way, they'll stick. Reverse one of the magnets, and they'll repel. Yet, the same magnet will stick to the refrigerator no matter what its orientation; it's all attractive. See how convoluted and contradictory material theories are? If you don't, add in gravity, which is claimed to be all attractive."

The boy said, "There's something wrong when gases and forces are lumped together as the same thing."

"No, not at all," answered the teacher. "Gases are supposed to push outward, with gas pressure. Except when they suck in, for example with vacuum cleaners. It's all the same thing: convoluted material theories full of contradiction and illusion."

The boy was visibly lost for words at this. The teacher continued, "Recognize that with spiritual forces of Mind, attraction is Love, and you'll understand the Truth."

I remembered something, from the Mental Work. I hoped he'd recognize it, both because it was in the Church Manual, and because it was read in Church the first Sunday of every month. "What about the `mere personal attraction' in the Rule for Motives and Acts?" I asked.

"Personal attraction is also but a counterfeit of the Love of God," the teacher answered. "Desire, lust jealousy, passion, they're all forms of Error that one may confuse with Love."

That figured, I thought. My unwanted, and thoroughly embarrassing, crush on Mr. Oregon was certainly not God's Love, but one of those counterfeits.

To my relief, we were called back to the rows of chairs for the final part of Sunday School. I noticed one of the girls in the class of children seven-to-nine had to be carried to the chairs. I recalled both as Luke and Lucy, that that had been going on for several weeks. When we had to stand up for the hymn, someone had to help her up, and support her through the rest of the service.

Sunday School finally ended, only for church service to begin in half an hour. I went to sit and wait, and got out the book to read while waiting.

This time, I found myself with conflicting preoccupations that kept me from reading the book fully. I finally slipped it down behind one of the hymnals on the back of the bench in front. I kept thinking about yesterday's visit to Bikini Beach. It was fun and nice meeting Tracy's Bikini Beach friends, and it was interesting how quickly we made friends even with complete strangers. Not just Tracy's friends, but also the other two girls who joined us -- what were their names? Oh yes, Jen and Xena.

My thoughts also kept returning to Mr. Brandon Oregon. I couldn't help it. Even though it squicked me, I couldn't help thinking about him, imagining his youthful adult face in front of me. It was just a crush, I knew -- a huge crush -- but I felt as if I was in love with him. I just couldn't help it. I remembered that even as Lucy, I was terrified of having my crush on him being found out.

Ma and Pa arrived, and the church service began shortly after. As Luke, I found church services uniquely boring except for the hymns and the occasional Bible readings. But now, several things preoccupied my mind. Brandon...

Ah, Brandon. His face was just as I remembered, yet I couldn't help seeing him and thinking of him as a most attractive man. As mortifying as it was, I couldn't help quivering. I felt just a bit damp between my legs, with the excitement only aggravating the strange creepiness between my legs, the itch I couldn't scratch. Especially in church, especially next to my parents.

I kept my hands chastely clasped on my lap, even as I squeezed my legs together, tensed my thighs, and straightened my legs. I shifted my mind back to that nice day yesterday at Bikini Beach, Tracy's nice friends there, the nice time I had swimming, practically naked in a bikini...

I shifted suddenly, and Ma glanced down at me. I was feeling mortally guilty now, at having worn a bikini in the face of Pa's expressed opposition. It was now mortifying how I had exposed myself at Bikini Beach. At least no boys or men saw me -- except, of course, Bruce when he became Becky -- and how many other changed guys there?

Thank goodness, my thoughts were interrupted by the end of the Lesson-Sermon and the beginning of the collection plate going around. The service concluded with the final hymn and the passages that followed.

Peter was all dressed up when we got home from church. Normally, Peter and I as Luke didn't have to dress up for meals. However, we all had to dress up for Sunday Dinner. Also, I began to recall, I as Lucy had to dress up weekday evenings for dinner, including Saturdays.

After dinner, I practiced a little on the piano and on the clarinet. I was definitely better at both as Lucy than as Luke, although I was pretty good at the clarinet as Luke. Although I wasn't actually supposed to practice ballet at home, I remembered I was going to have ballet on Monday at the time I normally did Taekwondo as Luke.

Afterwards, I went up to my bedroom and undressed down to my panties before lying on my bed to continue reading "Lace". Removing that bra was such a relief. I wished I could change to shorts and tee-shift without a bra, but Pa was home and most shorts I found were girls' short-shorts, although I had some almost-knee-length shorts which would do.

I was caught up in the novel, encountering and sometimes rereading romantic and sexual scenes, getting more and more excited without really noticing it. I gasped and emitted a raspy moan, only to realize that I'd slid my other hand down under my panties and was feeling myself up. I whipped my hand out, hoping nobody heard me.

Whenever I thought about it, it still felt strange and creepy down there.

My fingers were damp, and I was bringing them up for a sniff, when I realized with disgust what I was about to do. Yuck! I reached over and wiped my hand on the sheet down the side of my bed. Yuck again!

I got back to reading "Lace", making sure that both hands were securely on the book and not where they didn't belong.

Later, after a particularly hot scene, even without any physical stimulus I was aware of, I was caught up in uncontrollable ever-increasing arousal. After my first noise, I held my mouth tightly closed, and my legs tight and closed together, in a vain attempt to cut off whatever was happening. I kept mewing and gasping at ever high pitches through my closed mouth and nose, and right at the last minute, managed to slam my pillow folded in half over my face as I emitted an incredibly loud piercing high-pitched scream.

That felt wonderful, painful, and most uncomfortable -- not to mention, utterly mortifying -- all at the same time. I couldn't help hyperventilating as I tried to catch my breath.

I froze as I heard Peter knocking at the door. "Lucy, are you all right?"

"Um, girl problems," I replied loudly, then winced at the expression. I slipped under the covers, with my book, not wanting Peter to see me in my panties, should he open the door.

"Should I get Ma?" he asked.

"No-no-no-no!" I exclaimed. "She'll just say that I'm God's Perfect Child, and God's Perfect Child can't have girl problems. Or something like that." I didn't want Peter or Ma or anyone to know I'd just had a massive orgasm, or that I was wearing nothing but panties now.

Peter laughed. "That sounds about right. Any way I can help?"

Oh God, no! I blushed horribly, and tried to hide my embarrassment and sound nonchalant as I answered, "I don't think so."

"Okay, I'll leave you alone." Did I hear a waver in Peter's tone?

I somehow managed to get about three-fourths of the way through "Lace" without further incident, although I found myself aroused many more times. Then Peter knocked at the door to tell me that Sunday evening snack was ready.

I slipped the book under the bed, and dressed back up to go back downstairs.

After the snack and another practice session on the piano, I returned to my room to finish the book.

I realized that the next day, Monday, I would be doing ballet instead of Taekwondo, in a pink leotard with white tights.

        Monday, August 4

"No-no, middle finger!" Mrs. Prudence penciled in a large "3" just under the chord at hand. "Use your middle finger with a V7 chord here!" I froze up in humiliation. It was all the worse -- being scolded wearing a leotard, a leotard I wore in preparation for ballet class after.

I couldn't face myself ever, this was so bad, walking through the mall in my swimsuit. Whatever possessed me to wear a bikini to ballet class anyway? How did I confuse ballet with Bikini Beach?

-- I awoke again. Oh God, please! Get rid of these horrid nightmares!

My heartbeat gradually slowed -- thank goodness I was still in bed.

It occurred to me that things would be better than that nightmare today, but not a lot. I was going to wear a pink leotard with white tights and a pink wrap-around skirt. Okay, so a lot of girls wore short skirts and short shorts. That made it no less revealing.

I kept imagining piano lessons under Mrs. Prudence and walking through the mall wearing only my leotard -- did I actually do that once?

I finally came to full wakefulness, and got up. My morning routine as Lucy wasn't very different from my routine as Luke -- except that I had a secret Pill to swallow, and guilt to get over. After breakfast and the Mental Work, Ma decided that she and I would record this week's Lesson-Sermon. Last week, I'd recorded it with Pa. I was always shy about recording it as Luke, and always cringed when listening to myself. I couldn't quite recall why. In any case, I was okay with recording it this time. I played the "Second Reader," reading from the Bible and the congregation's part of the Responsive Reading, and Ma was the "First Reader," reading from Science and Health. The Subject this week was "Spirit."

I practiced a bit on the piano and on the clarinet (trying to push aside my unwanted and embarrassing crush on Mr. Oregon) and helped Ma a little with the housework, before departing to piano lessons.

As I remembered doing as Lucy, I put on tights followed by my ballet leotard. When I hooked the sleeveless leotard over my shoulders -- oh my, the tightness! The stimulation would be wonderful if I could enjoy it in private, but going outside in public, especially being around Ma, that would be terrible! Perhaps I should wear my bikini the next time I went to Bikini Beach, after all. I shoved my wrist up against my mouth, before taking a tentative step in fear that I might scream out. Moving about continued to stimulate me. Fortunately, the stimulation gradually reduced.

That reminded me, I was going to bring "Lace" with me to the mall after my piano lesson, to lend to Becky and Tracy. I slipped the book in with my piano stuff, and wrapped my skirt on and bravely left the room. The skirt was, in my view, way too short, but at least the tights covered me.

        ******

I left for piano lessons earlier than I usually did, both as Luke and in my memory of Lucy. I knew I was going to delay my arrival, and I wanted to take that into account. When I thought back on it, it was only fairly recently, that is, when I turned twelve, that Ma was persuaded to let me walk alone to piano lessons, the library, the mall, and the like. The walk was about a mile or so.

I approached Mrs. Prudence's house with trepidation. For me as Luke, piano lessons were my weekly dreaded experience, punctuated by relief when class ended, although she seemed considerably nicer once I got to wearing my TKD uniform. However, I seemed to remember Mrs. Prudence as a nice old lady, somewhat stern. On the third hand, even though I seemed to remember routinely wearing this outfit in preparation for ballet not only this summer but previous summers as well, Luke in me was embarrassed to go to my stern piano instructor dressed like this.

As usual, I greeted the girl who came out. This time, she replied, "Hi, Lucy!"

Once inside, As I got out my music books, I inadvertently exposed "Lace". I tried to pretend there was nothing amiss, but Mrs. Prudence said, "`Lace'? That's a great novel." I couldn't help blushing, but nothing further was said about the book.

Somehow, I managed to let the Lucy part take over, and this was one of my best piano lessons for me. Lucy paid far more attention to the correct fingerings. That was one thing I hopefully would take to heart once I turned back to Luke, even if I wasn't as advanced as Lucy.

When the lesson was over, I greeted the guy who was the next student, and he also greeted me as "Lucy". For some reason, I appeared more familiar to the students as Lucy. Also, that guy looked just too buff for comfort. If not for Brandon -- ah, Brandon... I shook myself with disgust.

I walked to the mall, and met Becky, Tracy, and -- surprise -- "Hey, Carol!" "Hey, Lucy!" we greeted each other with a hug. I looked her up and down. She looked wonderful in jeans and a t-shirt with incomprehensible symbols. I followed up with hugs with Becky and Tracy. We were in the food court, and I got a small salad.

"Say, Lucy, did you bring the sexy novel?" asked Becky, followed by Carol and Tracy's laughter. I couldn't help laughing as well, even if it was the laughter of embarrassment.

I looked around. Nobody was paying attention. "Yeah, I brought it." I pulled it out of my knapsack. "I finished it last night. It's a library book; be sure to return it."

"And Lucy will want to reread certain parts," added Tracy.

"Of course," agreed Carol.

"We'll all want to reread our favorite parts, right, Lucy?" said Becky,

Embarrassed at the talk, I asked, "So which of you wants the book first?"

All three of them answered some form of "Me!"

Carol wound up getting the book, as we finished up and left the food court. Pretty much out of "habit", I headed toward the ballet studio. We met Peter on the way.

"Hello, girls," said Peter. "Hi, I don't think I've met you before," he said to Carol.

"This is Carol Hsu," I said. "Carol, my brother Peter. He has a blue belt in Taekwondo."

"Wow! That's quite a level," said Carol. "Impressive!"

I was going to say that I'd started doing Taekwondo this summer, but it came out instead as, "It would be nice if I could do Taekwondo."

Peter said, "That would be wonderful. Too bad Ma doesn't allow it. She has old-fashioned notions of what's appropriate for a young lady."

"That's so unfair," said Carol.

"Carol's one of our Bikini Beach friends," said Tracy. "Lucy and Becky came to Bikini Beach last Saturday, finally! They got to meet my friends there!"

Oh-oh. I wished Tracy hadn't told Peter that. He wasn't supposed to know.

"Actually, Lucy and I met at the library last week," said Carol. "I never knew she was Tracy's friend."

"Bikini Beach, eh?" said Peter. "Too bad, the only water park in our town is for girls only." He sighed. "But Lucy, you really must tell me all about it."

"You won't tell Pa, will you? He'll be furious," I said, afraid of what Pa might say.

"I won't tell him, I promise," said Peter. "I understand."

"Boys sometimes are admitted to Bikini Beach as guests," said Becky.

"Oh? Are they admitted as honorary girls or something?" asked Peter.

"Something like that," said Becky, giggling. All of us laughed. Honorary girls? I wouldn't, and probably couldn't, tell Peter that they're admitted as actual girls. So far, Peter displayed no sign of remembering me as Luke.

"Would those honorary girls wear honorary bikinis?" Peter continued, winking. We all laughed and giggled, of course. Nobody answered his question.

Peter went on to Taekwondo, and the girls went with me to ballet. As I entered, they said good-bye and left to do their own thing.

We were going to do a performance at the end of summer, a simplified, abbreviated, and narrated version of Tchaikovsky's "The Sleeping Beauty", and we'd been focusing on rehearsing the past couple of weeks. I remember as Lucy I resented not being given a character this summer, but now I was relieved to be in the ballet corps. I didn't remember the exact performance days, so I didn't know if I'd actually perform. But I rehearsed as if I would.

After ballet class finished, I went outside prepared to walk home, quite sweaty and grimy in my ballet kit. Of course, I put the skirt back on and changed out of ballet shoes into sneakers.

Carol was out there, waiting, to my surprise. "Carol!"

"Hey, Lucy!" she came and hugged me.

I returned the hug tentatively at first. "I'm really grimy," I said.

"Yeah, I can tell," she replied with a laugh. "No problem! Mind if I join you?"

"Sure. Just heading home to clean myself off."

"Why not shower and change in the studio?" she asked.

"Well, um," I hesitated, embarrassed about discussing the subject. "I don't like changing or showering with others." That was only part of it. I was still unaccustomed to leotards, and I didn't care for public arousal. The wetness down there even now wasn't wholly sweat.

"Fair enough," said Carol.

We started home.

"Say, I watched your brother at Taekwondo," said Carol. "He's awesome!"

"Yes, indeed!" I said. "I've seen him." I didn't mention that this summer, I only saw him as Luke in his class. Although now that I thought of it, Lucy watched him test for his Blue Belt when summer began.

As we walked home, we continued chatting. At one point, Carol mentioned reading "Lace" while watching Peter's TKD class. "I like the story. Poor Lili." A few minutes later, she said, "Lili did have a brief happy childhood with the Hungarian family who adopted her. I'm reminded of `These Happy Golden Years' -- you know that story?" she asked.

"Yeah, I've read all the books, including `The First Four Years'," I answered. "That one was very sad."

"That's my idea. `These Happy Golden Years' may have been among the happiest of Laura's life. Once she married Almanzo Wilder, her life turned horrible and didn't recover for many years."

There was plenty to ponder over, there. I had to think, and didn't respond. After a few moments of silent walking, Carol continued, "Well, I suppose at the very least she got some consolation when her Little House books became popular and she probably made a fortune from them."

We got home. As expected, Ma was the only one home. Pa was at work, and Peter was wherever he was, doing whatever he did during the day.

"Ma, we're home!" I said needlessly, as she was in the living room reading a book.

"Hello!" she greeted Carol. "Lucy, you must introduce me to your new friend," said Ma.

"This is Carol Hsu. She's Tracy's friend at Bikini Beach, and now she's Becky and my friend as well."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. -- Pssst, Lucy," Carol whispered.

"Cuttington," I whispered back.

"Mrs. Cuttington," continued Carol. "Sorry I forgot your last name for a moment."

"That's quite all right. I'm pleased to meet you as well, Carol. I'm always happy to meet a friend of Lucy's, and I'm happy that she's made new friends at Bikini Beach."

"Ma? Carol? I really have to shower and change," I said. I went upstairs, showered, and changed into a t-shirt and jeans.

Upon returning, I stopped in surprise at the top of the stairs. Not only were Ma and Carol sitting on the sofa and talking, but Peter was there also. Peter never came home this early in the afternoon, except when ordered by Ma or Pa because of something planned.

Carol sat between Ma and Peter. "Tracy occasionally mentioned Lucy, and Peter as well," Carol smiled at Peter. It was just a flash smile, leading me to flare up in jealousy for just a moment, because it was aimed at Peter and not me. It was one of those smiles that lit up everything. Peter smiled back, a rather dopey expression. I wasn't surprised that Carol's smiles had the same effect on him. I was merely surprised, embarrassed, and just a bit squicked, and above all jealous, to think of my big brother Peter infatuated with a girl, one I was already thinking of as my girl.

Then I wondered what the heck I was thinking. How could Carol be my girl? Okay, I was attracted to her, but I wasn't a lesbian -- or was I? No, Brandon Oregon was for me. I envisioned my clarinet teacher's face, a wonderfully handsome adult face -- ugh, more ickiness, more embarrassment!

I slowly descended the stairs, recalling that Peter certainly had no such attraction to Tracy. Carol was saying, "Tracy kept telling us that Becky and Lucy were both refusing to even try Bikini Beach."

"Pa would really have a cow." I entered the living room and sat in an armchair. "If he ever found out I went to Bikini Beach..." I didn't continue.

"Pa does have serious issues with girls and young ladies in bikinis and skimpy clothing," Ma admitted. "But we don't have to say anything to him. If Pa wants to know how you met Carol, you are the Miura twins' friend."

"Surprisingly enough," added Carol, "we met in the library last Wednesday, and got to talking. She introduced herself as Lucy, but I had no idea she was Tracy's friend Lucy."

"Wow, that's quite a coincidence," said Peter. "Coincidences do happen, of course, simply due to the shear number of combinations."

I sensed Ma holding something back. I suspect that if Carol weren't here, she would have said something Science, Omniscient God, and coincidences. Or maybe she was avoiding an argument with Peter.

Carol said, "I'm finding it ever more curious, now. Lucy makes sense in not wanting to try Bikini Beach. But Mr. Cuttington's, um, issues as you put it, don't apply to Becky." Of course, I couldn't tell the real reason, the reason that applied to both *Bruce* and me. Carol continued, "And then both of them together changed their mind and decided to come and surprise Tracy."

"Becky suggested it, requesting Lucy go with her," said Ma. "And I approved. I even suggested Lucy take her Bikini. But did Becky ever give an explanation for not going before then?"

"I rarely met Becky," said Carol. "It was always Tracy -- I vaguely recall her passing along both of your reasons, but I can't for the life of me remember what they were."

Whoa, were Bikini Beach's reality-shifts that ineffectual? It went without saying that Becky and I wouldn't explain that Bikini Beach was for girls and we were guys. But couldn't Bikini Beach have created a substitute? Maybe Bikini-Beach reality shifts were imperfect. I admit I couldn't think of anything myself.

"Maybe they were scared of Bikini Beach," suggested Peter.

That was quite close to the truth, once Tracy told us not only that the occasional boy was admitted, but that they also vanished from the face of the earth once they entered. I couldn't admit that, though.

"It's a mistake to theorize before one has the facts," said Carol.

"That leads one to twist facts to fit theories, rather than theories to fit facts," Peter followed up.

"Sherlock Holmes," said Peter and Carol together, to all our laughter.

Peter continued, "Whenever you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."

I wondered: would boys becoming girls be considered impossible? Or merely highly improbable? Suppose what is eliminated as impossible is really still only highly improbable?

"But we do have with us one of the two friends who refused to visit Bikini Beach," said Carol, turning toward me. "She might explain their reluctance to visit."

An idea came to me that was at least a half-truth. "Tracy told us that boys occasionally went to Bikini Beach. In fact, she spotted two going in, but couldn't find them, no matter how hard she looked. She even asked her friends about them." I glanced at Carol.

"Oh, yes. Tracy was asking about a couple of boys. She was really breathing heavily with excitement and attraction; hotties and hunks she called them," answered Carol. "We couldn't help laughing at Tracy's obsession that day."

"Tracy was completely unable to find them." I continued. "It was as if they'd vanished from the face of the earth. Bikini Beach could be such a dangerous place!"

"But you and Lucy wouldn't have that problem," said Carol.

I found myself fuming. "If Bikini Beach is a death trap for boys, then it's a vile, evil place. I'd want nothing to do with it!" I mentally kicked myself for momentarily forgetting I was originally a boy -- and for forgetting that I now knew perfectly well why Tracy never found those boys.

Carol continued in a level monotone, "The reluctance of both you and Becky to visit Bikini Beach began long before Tracy told you about those boys. And then, both of you visited Bikini Beach shortly afterwards."

It was getting frightening now. I couldn't -- just couldn't -- say that Becky and I were boys who became girls at Bikini Beach. In fact, I was terrified, embarrassed, and about to cry. I couldn't help my first sniff.

"Please, let's change the subject," said Peter. "You're really putting Lucy on the spot. Can't you see how upset she is?"

"Okay, okay, I won't mention it any further," said Carol. "So Peter, I saw you in Taekwondo today, and you were awesome! How long have you been doing it?"

"I began when I was fourteen -- Lucy's age, in fact. The summer before my freshman year, three years ago."

"So you're a senior now?"

"Um, no. Actually, I've already graduated. I'm starting college at Pacific Tech this fall."

"Oh, wow!" Carol smiled, and Peter blushed. "Graduated in only three years, AND attending Pacific Tech!" She smiled again.

"Well." Peter swallowed, and didn't say anything further.

"I hope I can get into Pacific Tech myself," continued Carol. "But I don't know."

We spent the rest of the afternoon talking. Actually, Carol and Peter did most of the talking -- except on occasions that Carol smiled at Peter and he lost his tongue.

I was surprised at the passage of time, when Ma said suddenly, "Lucy, it's almost dinner time. Go up and change for dinner." A bit resentfully, I went up to change. Peter didn't have to, and I never had to as Luke.

As I went upstairs, I overheard Ma say, "Carol, you're welcome to stay for dinner if you wish."

"Thank you. I'd be very happy to. I'll have to call home and tell Mom and Dad."

As I was deciding on what dress to wear, I imagined Carol changing into one of my dresses. She didn't have to as a guest, and my dresses wouldn't fit her anyway. She was stouter than me, and much taller -- only two or three inches shorter than Peter.

But I tried anyway to imagine her, thinner in one of my dresses. It would almost be the minidress, and would show off her legs. But I don't know why; she just seemed cuter, more attractive, in form-fitting dark jeans and t-shirt.

I heard the garage door signaling Pa's arrival home as I was changing -- and pulled me out of my automation. I noticed that I'd put on a plain yellow dress with pleated skirt, matching knee-length socks, and black flats. I was in the middle of brushing my hair out, and was about to tie my hair in a ponytail with a matching band, and put on matching clips to keep the remaining strands of hair out of my face.

My hair as Lucy was so much longer than Luke's. Now that I had my attention on what I was doing or trying to do, that made it all the harder. But I did eventually manage a half-decent job.

I returned downstairs, and saw Pa and Carol seated, talking with each other, with Peter on her other side also talking. Ma was still in the kitchen, finishing up supper.

Carol turned toward me as I entered. "Wow! You look wonderful!"

"Now I only have to worry about keeping this clean." That was the only thing I could think of to say. Honestly!

"Supper time, everyone!" called Ma from the kitchen.

At the table, I sat next to Carol, and Peter sat across from both of us. Normally, our conversation consisted of random things, with large gaps of silence where we concentrated on eating, and where I (at least) was thinking my own thoughts. However, tonight, both Pa and Peter dominated the conversation, both talking with Carol.

At one point Pa said, "You realize, Peter, that by the time Carol enters Pacific Tech, you will have graduated."

"Maybe Carol graduates high school in three years, like I did," replied Peter.

"I did think of that for a moment, when Peter first mentioned it," said Carol. "But I'm afraid it would make me give up on flute and violin."

"Not necessarily," answered Peter. "You would have to take a couple summer classes. Or maybe study on your own. For example, you could study some geometry on your own over the summer, then place into Algebra II."

"It's too late for that, Peter," answered Pa just a bit aggressively. "It's already August."

I maintained my silence, and my thoughts took over. Peter had suggested exactly that when I was Luke, and I had even done it to some degree. But he'd never suggested anything like that to Lucy. In fact, Lucy hadn't even taken Algebra in eighth grade. The notion apparently hadn't occurred to anyone.

When it was time to take Carol home, Peter and Pa argued about who would take her home. Finally, Pa said, "You need an adult in the passenger seat to drive now. I'm taking her home, and that's final."

"I'm going with you," I said just a bit aggressively.

"I'll go too," said Peter more aggressively.

"Fine. Let's go then," said Pa. We all went out and got into Pa's car -- Carol in the front seat with Pa, and Peter and me in the back, with Peter behind Carol and me behind Pa. Carol had to direct Pa to her house, and we found ourselves in a neighborhood more upscale than our own, with much bigger houses and larger yards.

Carol directed us in front of one of the houses. She opened the door and jumped out. "I'd invite you all in, but it's really late. Some time, I'll invite you all to dinner."

We were all silent as Pa drove us home. When we got home, Ma said, sounding not too happy, "Dan, we have to talk." She practically dragged him into their bedroom.

Peter turned to me and shrugged. I had an idea about what Ma and Pa were talking, and it made me uncomfortable in the extreme.

"I'd better get to the piano," I said. I also had to practice the clarinet as well, and that reminded me of Brandon Oregon. Oh Brandon, I thought, my eyes closing, his visage floating in front, even as I practiced the piano. It took a few minutes for Luke's revulsion to kick in with a shudder and a subvocalized "Ick!" It seemed as if my crush on Mr. Oregon was taking over, and my revulsion at the crush was weakening.

After about half an hour of practice, I went up to my room to practice the clarinet. I managed to disassociate myself from Brandon, and focus on Klose. I knew that Brandon would like me better if I did better on the clarinet.

By the end of this half-hour of practice, I was sleepy and went straight to bed.