36-TV FICTION CLASSICS "SANDY THOMAS

"Hardly any," Mike said. "By summer you'll be used to wearing a bra and most likely, budding to fill it. When they 'spring' the news on you I hope you act surprised, or at least never tell them how you found out about this."

I was scared and didn't know what to do. It wasn't all bad. I thought about how good touching my nipples felt, and I imagined what it would be to be like Michael, standing before a full-length mirror as he placed a lacy, full-cupped bra over his jelly like mounds of soft flesh; leaning forward so that his breasts would hang down and fill the approaching cups; standing straight as the elastic of the brassiere lifted and supported the twin mounds; his nimble, practiced fingers reaching around his back to securely fasten the hooks. BUT this wasn't acting this would mean I would have to live as a female, dress like a female and respond like a female.

"Oh, Michelle . . .I'm confused. I don't know what to do?" I sighed, irrational because my masculine fears were wrestling against my ever-strengthening female hormones and girlish feelings. I felt drowsy, almost in a dreamlike state. . .I couldn't resist. This couldn't be happening. I asked, "To have breasts like a girl, aren't you embarrassed?"

"At first, but now I'm used to them. To be honest, I like the way they jiggle when I walk." He looked down shyly and confessed, "I. ..I even asked the doctor if I could double up on my medication."

I looked at him in bewilderment, then said, "I can't believe you're telling me you like them demasculating you.'

"That's what friends are for. Come on let's get ready for bed. Why don't you let me do your hair for you tonight, Cath?"

"Sure, I'd like that," I replied as I felt my feminine side taking over. I took my robe and some towels then went to the washrooms to take a shower and shampoo my hair. It had grown since I had been here and now fell slightly onto my chest in front.

When I returned to our room, Michelle (now completely 'Michelle' in a floor-length, peach-colored nightgown and matching peignoir, with his hair still in rollers) was preparing the rollers and pins he would use to do my hair. I couldn't help noticing Michael's jellylike mounds of fatty flesh resting comfortably in the soft nylon cups of his nightgown.

I sat back and relaxed for the next half hour, reflecting about the incredible conversation we had just had and about the way my future was shaping up.

Michelle was now truly the closest friend I had ever had, and we were 'girlfriends', because that was how we related to each other. I couldn't even imagine it any other way. I tried to clear my thoughts, to say to myself: 'Listen boy, you are sitting in front of a mirror in your

ACTING LIKE A GIRL -37

girl's nightgown having your long hair put up in rollers for the night by another boy who is also dressed in a feminine nightgown and wearing hair curlers!'

I ran my hands down the nylon gown and along my silky smooth legs. The hormone induced, smooth softness was caused by a thin layer of fat under the skin that was rounding out my features.

I felt different at that moment, just like a young girl. What had only a couple of months at Rosemount done to me??? What would four years do?!?! Would we have any hope of being normal boys again??? Was this tranquil feeling an effect of my lower male hormone levels??? Could female hormones make me start thinking like a female??? There were just too many questions.

The next morning, Michelle and I prepared for another day at the girl's school. He took down my hair and fashioned it into a beautiful sidesweep of curls parted over on one side and held on the other with a pretty white satin ribbon tied in a bow. It was Friday and I was supposed to meet mother to go shopping in some nearby towns tomorrow morning. I planned on shaking her up a little, to teach her a lesson for hiding the secret about female hormones. I discussed my plans with Michelle, and he laughed until he cried making his mascara run down his face. He only warned me to know when to back off and not be too harsh with her.

Over lunch I considered telling Angie about Michelle's revelations to me about the hormones, but I held off. What if they put tors, like Angie on male hormones?! I had better talk to Michelle some more before I open my big mouth. I did mention that I was going into town to look for an appropriate dress for the dance. That got her going about styles and what would look great on me. I realized that the girlish love of dressing up was still in her, and having to dress in comparatively boring boy's clothing, without makeup or long hair was a little depressing for her.

That evening, Michelle again insisted on setting my hair for me. Then, he made me sit still while he gave me a pedicure that included two coats of pink polish and a clear top coat. Michelle was excited about the little trick I planned to play on my mother. He insisted on being in charge of my 'look' for tomorrow's shopping trip. So wearing the now almost routine curlers and hair net, I settled into bed planning my first foray outside Rosemount as a 'girl'. I figured it as my toughest acting test to date.

Chapter 11, Preparing to meet Mom.

Michelle woke me early, before eight, insisting that 'we' had to start getting ready. I was bundled into my robe, a plastic shower cap was carefully pulled over my curler-covered head, then I was marched off to take a shower. I was given specific instructions to make sure that my legs