20-SCHOOLING IN SKIRTS

the cups were retaining a great deal of their new shape, almost making it appear as if I really HAD breasts. I shook my head violently. This was only temporary, a nightmare... tomorrow I would call my sister's psychologist and get her to make Kathy see that I was really a boy.

As I stood before the medicine cabinet in the mirror, taking off the pretty colors of Danni's face, I realized that my hands still looked very feminine with the pink nail polish still on them. And even without makeup, I still looked like a girl with my hair styled the way it was. I untied the ribbon Susan had put in my hair. I had forgotten about it most of the night.

I slipped on the only thing in the room to wear, Kathy's nightshirt. It had small but obvious twin swollen nipples where my chest still showed the effects of wearing a bra all day. Suddenly, I was aware of what the night shirt said: "Good girls go to heaven... bad girls go everywhere". A wave of panic swept over me once again.

Tomorrow, everything would be okay. This must be some kind of a joke, Kathy's playing on me for teasing her before she goes on dates. That's it, a joke. I slept rather uneasily that night.

CHAPTER FOUR

The next morning, I awoke to the sight of my pink manicured fingers and the unfamiliar feel of smooth hairless legs. I bolted from bed and it all came back.

I went through my closet searching for something to wear and could only find a pink cotton t-shirt and faded denim miniskirt to wear. Trying to remember how Kathy had showed me how to use the push-up bra to make breasts out of my chest like yesterday, I managed to somehow create a reasonably female image.

It seemed to take forever... I really didn't WANT to wear my sister's old clothes, but with no male clothing in the

CONTEMPORARY TV FICTION 21

house, what else could I do? If this was a joke, I'd play along for an hour.

I looked in the dresser and found some lace-trimmed ankle socks, which I wore with a pair of pink-and-white running shoes from the floor of my closet. Looking in the mirror, I saw a fairly cute, presentable, blonde girl ... not the young boy I was used to seeing. I sighed heavily, my spirit now totally broken. I was going to have to go along with this feminine version of myself for a little while longer. Just until she gave me my clothes back. I hoped that she wouldn't find out that I had never told anyone at the dance I was a boy. She'd tease me unmercifully if she found out I had danced with the boys.

"That outfit looks very nice on you, Danielle," Kathy greeted me as I entered the living room. "But we still need to give you makeup lessons." She took me into the bathroom, stood me in front of the medicine chest, and within minutes, I'd been shown how to apply mascara, blusher, and lipstick. Kathy explained that it was better for a girl my age to only wear foundation and eyeshadow on special occasions. She also showed me how to bring the style back to my hair with just a few quick strokes of the hairbrush. Suddenly, I had the same feeling as I'd had the day before... that I was looking at the cutest girl in the world. Only this time, it was coupled with the sinking feeling that I was allowing something to happen that was not right for a boy. No boy would ever be caught in girls clothes for any reason, yet here I was.

Kathy shooed me out of the bathroom just then so she could take her shower. I waited for the sound of running water before I went to the phone and dialed the home number of Kathy's psychologist.

line.

"Hello?" her pleasant, feminine voice came down the

"Hi, Dr. Holland. It's Daniel Nichols ... I'm worried about Kathy." I related to her how my older sister had transformed me into the image of my twin sister, then is apparently refusing to let me return to my true male iden-