50 -ALWAYS A BRIDESMAID

When he called me or Emily, I actually though it was a girl on the phone. Baily had became so used to modulating his voice higher, I couldn't tell his voice from the other cheerleaders'.

In our little school, the boys out numbered the girls about 3 to 2. I found out from my sister that a few boys had asked Baily out.

When I asked him about it, he called them, "Practice dates." Some of the guys can't get a date and want to practice their 'lines' on me. Don't worry," he giggled. "I'm not easy!"

I was almost jealous when I called him to go to a movie and he "had plans." I didn't ask who but later my sister told me she saw him with two guys from the football team.

I watched TV that night. Suddenly, Baily had a better social life than me. Without my best friend, I had a lot of time to think about things.

It's funny. When you meet someone, the first thing you do is make the distinction between male and female. Medical science does that at birth and we continue through life doing the same thing. So I'd been thinking of Baily as male.

People who didn't know him were thinking of him as femaleeven before he put on a dress. Now, even guys who knew him were reacting to him as a female.

Those football players were interested in anything that jiggled or wiggled. Yet they were "being friendly" with Baily. I'd even seen a few "showing off" for him. How was it that he was able to keep their interest? They all knew!

Was it his girlish interests? Was it his preference for the passive pursuits of women such as fashion, hair and make-up? His girl-like passive manner? I didn't know. It was a riddle.

These tough guys wouldn't wear shoes that hurt for a minute but were fascinated with Baily's ability to spend the day hobbled by spiked heels. Yes, Baily

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was more feminine than masculine. I've read that we are all both sexes. . .just more of one.

Poor Baily. Being closely around such masculine guys had to make him more aware of how unmanly he had become. Most guys if forced to wear dresses and act like a girl would have fought to the death to avoid Baily's current fate. But he didn't. He accepted it, sometimes flaunting it!

Baily had always been less aggressive, and more reliant upon his mother. He had remembered my birthday when my own parents had forgotten. Were those feminine traits I'd never noticed when he was wearing pants?

He had to feel an envy for what he'd lost and feel seriously wronged by his mother.

Yet I saw none of that. Being effeminate and unmanly did not mean that Baily had submitted to the fact completely. When we talked he continued to hold on to his aspiration to be manly again. "I plan on going out for baseball in college," he'd say dreamily checking his hair.

He couldn't throw a baseball now without breaking one of his long polished nails. I wanted to say, "Give it up!" but I didn't.

I could tell he was jealous when I started shaving every day when his face didn't have even the start of "fuzz."

His facial skin was clearer and softer then ever. In fact, his whole body was softer looking and his hips were fuller.

His shoulders were curved softly and he appeared rounder all over. His chest seemed to get fuller but that had to be from falsies or that trainer.

"You'll start a beard soon and then no one will want you in a dress," I said one day.

"I sure hope so," he said. "If my figure doesn't change back soon, I'll kill myself."

"Kill? That's pretty harsh."

Because he was a full-time girl, I guess nobody