been going on in your head. You may not be a homosexual, but you sure are a transvestite!"

"A what?"

"A person who just loves to dress and act as a member of the opposite sex. You look great. You would probably call yourself a 'fine-looking girl.' But I'm the one who let you wear my dresses, and I helped you with your hair, your make-up.” Her voice softened, "Please, Mark, I know you're my brother, but couldn't you be my sister for a few hours. If you do this, I'll live with you, and we can share our clothes, and I can make you pretty permanently. I think I'm in love with Bill."

I sighed, I had lost another argument. "Well, would you help me with my make-up? I want to put all the right ideas in Jack's head. But I'm doing this for you and Bill, believe that!"

She kissed me on the cheek, “I love Mark, but I think Marcia's a much nicer person. At least she's prettier. I'm sorry about what I said."

"That's alright. As a matter of fact, you were right.”

She smiled, "I thought so, you won't ever be sorry you did this for me. Well, come on, Marcia, let's make you the prettiest girl at this dance."

We returned to the table, and the boys got our wraps. We left and we were driving north towards Hollywood. Jack was driving, and he asked me to sit next to him. I did this, and he put his arm around me. I sighed. It was not a sigh of love, as Jack thought, but a sigh of frustra- tion. But I remembered Susie's promise, and I laid my head on his shoulder.

It turned out all I had to put up with, were some kisses and hand- holding. Actually, I was quite disgusted, but I put my heart into it, and I'm sure Jack was happy. At the door, I was so happy to be home, I threw my arms around his neck, and really kissed him, just like Marcia was supposed to. It was hardly the right kind of behavior for someone who liked girls, but Jack had been, for the most part, a perfect gentle- man, and this was my way of saying thanks.

It was a good thing Mom wasn't up when we came home. She would have noticed some things wrong right away. For instance, my lipstick