all the while her blue and silver shadowed eyes were staring at Roberto willing him to do what he'd promised. . .but Roberto was agonizing and saying but I didn't really promise, and one of the mistresses was very angry with him. . .and Aurelio was smiling over 'her' in his patronizing, arrogant manner, holding her about her waist. and leering over at her... and people noticed and raised their eyebrows but the girls were very pleased. . . Then, she was dancing with Luis Daquenta, but Luis was in Spain now, but he held her earnestly... Roberto was trying to explain that he'd wanted to be first and he would eventually have got his courage up.. but she was too beautiful and he'd mentioned ‘her' fortune to Aurelio and that guy had said he'd do anything for money.

.but now, she, Esteban, wouldn't listen to his protests or let him touch 'her' as he was burning to do as everyone could see. .but they all said 'she' was right... but even Roberto was relieved when she went off waltzing with Aurelio again be- cause he'd do anything for money, and they all knew that.. he'd even dance with another man. But Aurelio was grin- ning at her... asking if she was going to be real. . .

·

The mistress, the faceless one. .No! It was Consuela!. . thin-faced, thin in body. . . she was pleased that Aurelio and Esteban, the blonde-haired girl. . but shouldn't they go up to the dormitory... it was all right.. and Aurelio was walking her home to her dormitory, and she was brushing her teeth in the mirror, her long hair loose about her face and her nightie, and when she came into the dorm there were only girls there, but it was smaller, cozier, only six beds, and they all wanted to talk about the dance and they drew the blonde-haired girl in and cuddled her and she told them. . . and they told her... and didn't she have so

many pretty dresses . . but why was Aurelio in her cup- board selecting a dress for her.. and wasn't she going to go out with him now steady. and all the girls were eager. really eager, and pleased if it was true, that she, Esteban, had a boy friend at last. . . but why was she a cheerleader again when Pujols had never taken on that American innovation. . and why was Roberto crying in the stands while she performed and she had boys all over the hallway waiting for her now. . . and she was dressed in a tight black dress and Roberto was saying something. But Con- suela the mistress was there to tell him that he'd had his chance with Esteban. . . but nothing happened... Roberto was saying as 'she' went off between two tall, dark boys from the twelfth level. while Consulea smiled in approval and showed her how to walk more like a real woman..

And he awoke! His mouth was dry; he felt drawn and haggard, and he knew that he had an erection. For a moment the dream lived on and he expected to have to take off the tight, black dress before he relented and talked to Roberto.

"Come on, Irena," said Consuela crossly, returning from the windows where she had thrown back the curtain. "You have a very busy day today in front of you."

She tried to seize the bedclothes and pull them back, but Esteban held onto them in his awakening fright. He did not want her to see his panties, not while the frilly babydolls were shaped the way they were. Realization of the dream was flooding still through his brain as he felt his flat chest, but still the frills at his arms and across his hairless chest and thighs.

"She needs her privacy this sneered morning," Isabel, lounging against the doorframe of the open door that led to the

-20-

room's antechamber.

Consuela's dark eyes glit- tered as she flicked a glance in Isabel's direction. But she did bring a negligee, a pink, filmy thing, for 'Irena' to slip on. Esteban could feel the fire rising in his face as he slipped his bare, shaven legs carefully out of the bed and into pink, high-heeled, fluffy slippers wait- ing for his feet. Painted toe- nails peeped through the open toes of the slippers--his painted toenails... He pulled the negli- gee about him quickly, but he couldn't walk quickly for it seemed that he'd forgotten how to walk in high heels after the night he'd gone through.

--

The bathroom was a wel- come refuge from Isabel's taunts, Consuela's rigid face, and the vivid impressions his dream had left in his mind. He was still 'living in the dream' for quite awhile after he entered the bathroom. His heart fluttered strangely as he stared at the 'girl' in the wall mirror but it was no girl there only an effeminate, grotesque Esteban Varga, not at all the 'girl' of his dreams. 'She' had been so perfect it would have almost been worth being a girl to be 'her' he thought. Horror rose in his mind as he realized what he was thinking. Flushing, he forced himself to look at him- self, exposed there in the mirror. He stared at the ridiculous Es- teban, so silly in his 'cute' girlish clothing. He stripped the pyjamas off and looked at a strange, hairless, young boy, whose face, figure and nails would be laughed at by any girl or boy who saw him. He took a bath, welcoming the oblivion that his body found beneath the suds. He felt re- lieved but fluttery all the same to know that he was who he was. There was a padded bra on a chair near the door, but still he had to run a hand over his flat chest to reassure himself that the vision in the barn was not he... but he had looked