RELUCTANT PRESS

After she told me she wasn't going to try to do me anymore, I finally broke down and confessed my fears to Cindy. After listening to my fears about Miss Malloy, Cindy feels the same way, too. And, she says, my aura has settled down. It's still kaleidoscoping through the rainbow, but not nearly as much as was. In addition, when it settles and pauses it's always on the same shimmery color before it swirls into the other colors. That color is...pink.

Cynthia...I can't call her Cindy anymore... Cindy was my lover...Cynthia is my friend...my BEST friend...just like we were before kindergarten...says that pink is the normal background color of girls!

"You're now a very vibrant, yet soft baby pink...like a cuddly baby girl," she said with a sincere smile. "I think it means you're turning into a girl. That's why your male parts don't work and are shrinking and stuff."

The way she said it made it sound like it was the most natural thing in the world!

But even worse is that I'm afraid she's right! No matter how hard I try, girls just don't turn me on anymore.

Now, Mr. Drew...well, I don't want to talk about that! Today in French class I had hot flashes course through me just listening to his voice. When I looked at him, my nipples got hard and real tingly, just like Cindy's used to do when we made out.

I had to stop tutoring Pete because I've been getting the same feelings when I'm near him!

Cynthia knows about that, too. She told me tonight she saw my aura settle into pink and stay that way all through French class! Then again, she saw it settle to pink when Pete cornered me to ask why I was refusing to tutor him. Heck, I mean, I'm not a faggot! Yet, why am I getting so turned on by guys? Maybe I AM gay...no...I'm not...I can't be! I'm glad Cynthia noticed how bewildered I was when Pete had me cornered because I didn't know what to say to him; in fact, I was tongue-tied. She rescued me. She told Pete I was too shook up from the accident, and that when I was around him it created flash-backs for me. Pete, in typi-

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TWO LITTLE GIRLS

By JENNIFER SUE

cal dumb jock fashion, accepted her explanation. Then, she just pulled me to the side and did her best to calm my frazzled nerves. Cynthia's a good friend. She says we'll talk about it tomorrow when we have more time to figure out what's going on.

The problem has been getting worse each day. It was bad enough getting aroused by guys instead of girls, but now, when I look at girls, I look at their clothes and their behavior. The tomboys hold no interest for me, but the softer and more feminine a girl is, the more I find myself watching her, noting her clothing, mannerisms, and deportment. If a girl isn't girlish enough, I feel disgusted. I find myself thinking that I could be a better girl than her...IF I wanted to....which I don't...do I? God! Now I'm getting catty!

I didn't write about all this before because I've been too scared. I tried denying I was having these feelings all week. But now that Cynthia knows, I can't deny it. I don't know how or why, but I'm pretty sure that I'm turning into a damned girl!

Journal Entry: October 10, 1997

Today was really weird. I learned I'm going to become a millionaire...AND a girl! A Mr. James Glass stopped by our house this morning to hand-deliver a letter Miss Malloy wrote before her death. She left it with Mr. Glass with instructions to personally deliver it to the last male she touched before she died...ME!

Cynthia, Grace, and my mother were there when Mr. Glass explained that Miss Malloy's directions were quite explicit, but that he could say no more about the matter. After he left, I read the letter. My eyes opened in stunned disbelief and the letter dropped from my numbed fingers. Cynthia scooped it up and read it aloud.

Dear Sir;

I apologize for the necessity of this letter. But since I am dead, it is the only way to break the news to you. By now,

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