24CONTEMPORARY TV FICTION

While he didn't reply, his body language spoke volumes! Shrugging his slender shoulders, he demurely lowered his head in meek resign. "I guess..."

"Guess what!" I cheered, quickly changing topics. "I got box seat tickets to tonight's ball game. Boston's in town. Wanna go?"

"Gee...I don't know, Ron." Biting his lip, he played with a stray wisp of shoulder length hair with one hand, while girlishly cradling his books with the other. "I sort of have plans.'

Any guy would jump at these tickets. I was pissed but I couldn't loose Wayne. I swore to stick by him and this was the only way I knew how. "Think about it?"

"Sure!," he smiled in his new closed mouth grin. His dark brown eyes sparkled. . .girlishly and SO femininely, it shot shivers up my spine!

When we arrived at his house, Wayne asked permission to got to the game with me. Needless to say, he couldn't. But I made him promise that we'd go to one before the end of the

summer.

"So, I'll see you Saturday at commencement, right?" I asked hopefully before going home. "There's a party afterwards and..."

"I'm not attending, Ron," he pined, incessantly scratching his chest. "I'll be with Rita all weekend, through Sunday night."

"NO! Where are you going?"

"She hasn't exactly said. I just know that it's an part of my training."

"Too bad. I'll miss you, pal."

"Me too," he sniffled, becoming teary eyed. "I ought to be home by six or so. Please, Ron, promise to stop by.'

"You got it!" I smiled, but then felt forced to ask, "Hey, man, you got fleas!"

"It's these damn camisoles," he cringed, scratching insanely. "My skin must be allergic to silk.

"Whatever..." I droned. But when he stopped to shake my hand, I winced. Wayne's grasp was the weakest I'd ever known. His skin felt buttery soft, smooth and far less muscular. Everything was all wrong. Little by little, I was loosing my friend!

BOSOM BUDDY -25

Commencement was a blast, as were the parties! Boozing was a BIG mistake. But heck, high school graduation happens only once!

And I PAID! My hangover was awesome! Laying sick in bed the next morning, my thinking didn't clear until late after-

noon.

My head was still pounding when Mom reminded me to visit Wayne. I definitely wasn't up for it, but a promise was a promise.

Mrs. Carr smiled. "He's expecting you."

Tip toeing up the stairs, Mrs. Carr quietly lead me to Wayne's bedroom. But it was barely after dinner and the sun hadn't yet set. A small voice inside head told me something wasn't right!

"Shh," she softly whispered just beyond her son's door. "He's had quite a traumatic weekend, but he insists on seeing you."

Alarmed, I cautiously stepped into the dimly lit room. A figure, buried beneath layers of blankets, laid on the bed, but at first glance I couldn't tell who it was.

"You've come!" he mustered a cheer, sounding as if in dreadful pain. "It was terrible, Ron, simply TERRIBLE!" "WAYNE!" I gasped, switching on a lamp. "What have they DONE!"

His shiny lips pouting, he flashed fashionably long, feminine fingernails, polished a rich, glossy pink. "Rita had them sculpted. It's SO strange, my hands don't feel like they're MINE!"

I shook my head in denial as he reached back and gently tugged forward a thick, shoulder length braid, tied off by a satiny, pale yellow ribbon. Fluffing long strands of hair, evenly cut across his forehead, he whined, "They even gave me BANGS!"

"It's not too bad," I stammered, trying to console him. "I guess, to be a model, you got to look the part.'

"I just WISH that was my only problem! Look at this!" Tossing his blankets aside, Wayne exposed his lithe, hairless body, clad in a skimpy pink nightie. But before saying another word, he bolted out of bed, scurrying to the bathroom.

In his haste, he had left the door wide open. I didn't dare peek, but I knew those gurgling sounds ALL too well. As I had done earlier that day, Wayne, too, was puking his guts!