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From: "Rebecca A." <cyan@anon.nymserver.com>
Subject: New TG: Marcia and Me 6/?
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Hi

This is only the second story I've ever written.  It's still incomplete, 
but since I'm stuck around part 14 and have been for a while now I 
thought I'd send it off and see whether people like it enough for me to 
continue.

Hope you like it

Becky

***

Chapter 6.  Very Early Sunday morning.


I left Marcia's and walked the short distance to my house.  The night was 
crisp, and the sky was very clear, with enough moonlight to see where I 
was going easily.  Even though I felt a little tired from all the 
dancing, everything seemed amazingly fresh and new.  The stars seemed 
brighter, and the sounds of the night clearer and sweeter.  The noise my 
heels made on the paving sounded like music, and I skipped once or twice, 
listening to them, then tried to be quieter.  As I walked up our drive I 
heard an owl off in the distance.

There were no lights on, so I opened the front door as quietly as I could 
and began tiptoeing down the hall.  As I passed by the door to the living 
room I noticed a figure sitting in a chair, silhouetted in the moonlight. 
 It was my Mom, of course.  "How was your evening?" she said quietly.

"Uh", was all I could manage.  What did she want me to say?  "Good, I 
guess". 

"Why didn't you tell me you felt this way?" Mom said.  Even though it was 
dark, I got the impression from the sound of her voice in the dark that 
she might have been crying earlier.  I felt terrible.  Mom and I had 
always been especially close, especially after Dad left.  I know, 
although she could never have said it, that she felt she was partly to 
blame for him leaving, and she felt guilty about me not having a father 
around anymore.  I didn't blame her at all, I kind of loved my father, 
but I could tell, even at a young age, that he was a difficult man to 
live with.  Neither of us ever seemed able to please him.  He never hit 
either of us or anything, but I could sense that I was an enormous 
disappointment to him because I wasn't good at sport and into the manly 
kinds of things he liked, and I know that the times my mother stuck up 
for me against his scorn he'd turned on her, instead.  After he left she 
seemed distraught about a lot of things, especially money, but I could 
tell that she was also a bit relieved.  I thought that relief meant that 
his leaving was definitely for the better.  I would have done anything to 
make her happier, I just wasn't always sure what that could be.  

I definitely hated to think that it was because of me that she'd been 
crying.

"What way?" I asked.

"Well, the way you feel.  That you enjoy dressing up as a girl.  Do you 
like boys?  Is that it?"

I had to pause for a minute.  I wasn't sure what she meant.  How did I 
feel?  I didn't know.  A lot of it felt good, but it was weird - I was a 
boy, but ...  I hadn't stopped to think about it properly, really.

She turned on the lamp next to her chair.  It was probably not the best 
idea she ever had, because she was once again confronted with the way I 
was dressed.  "Your ... lipstick ... is a bit smudged", she said, in a 
tone that indicated she knew exactly how it had gotten that way.  I could 
see that my guess that she had been crying earlier in the night was right.

"I don't know, Mom.  I really don't know".  I sat on the floor at her 
feet and put my chin on my knees.  

"Do you often dress like this?"

"This is the first time, Mom.  Honest.  It was just for fun.  But it kind 
of got out of hand today".

"I'd say that was an understatement.  How was the party?  How did that 
boy ask you out?  Did he know?"

"Did he know what?"

"That you're not a girl"

"No!"  I said.  I couldn't bear to think about that.

We sat in silence a little while longer.

"Mom, I honestly don't know why everything happened the way it did today. 
 I'm really sorry I upset you, I didn't want you to find out - "

" - I'm glad I did - "

"Well, I guess I am, too, I don't like having lots of secrets from you.  
But ...  it was all kind of unexpected, really, Marcia was just fooling 
around with my hair and it all just kind of happened".

She put her hand on top of my head and played with the strands of hair 
that were falling around my face.

"You look very pretty", she said quietly.  "I would never have guessed 
you'd turn out this way".

It sounded strange, coming from Mom.  I wasn't sure I wanted her to think 
I was pretty.

"I guess ..."  I swallowed, not really sure if I should say this "I guess 
I had a pretty good time.  Everyone really likes me as Jenny.  Much more 
than as Chris".  She didn't say anything, so I went on.  "And although it 
felt kind of weird at first, it got easier as the day went along.  I 
think it's easier, being a girl."

Mom gave a little laugh of disbelief.  She tilted my face up, to look at 
me.  "It's not so easy," she said.

I shrugged.  "It was okay".

"What about that boy?"

I blushed.  "Paul?  He's ... well, he's a nice guy."

"Were you attracted to him"

"No.  Yes.  No.  I mean ..."  My voice trailed off.  "Yes, I guess so, 
though not at first.  It was ..."  I put my head down, blushing again.

"I know how it is," said Mom.  She smiled a little.  "But you haven't had 
much experience with girls.  Or have you?"

"No", I admitted, "They don't seem to be very interested in me.  I like 
them, I guess."  I considered this some more, thinking about Marcia's 
kiss today.  "Mom, does this mean I'm queer or something?"

"I don't know what it means".

"I think I like girls, like I like Marcia, but I like them in a kind of 
friendly way.  I wouldn't want to do anything with Marcia, because then 
she mightn't be my friend".

"Well ..."  She paused.  "Maybe we should get you to see someone.  Like a 
therapist or something.  Would that help?"

I shook my head.  I didn't know what I thought, I didn't think I could 
explain it to someone else.  Besides, I knew we couldn't afford it.  "I 
love you, Mom.  You know that."  I knelt and hugged her. "I won't do it 
again, I promise".

"That's not what I'm saying.  If you enjoyed it so much, what does it 
mean?"  she said.  "I want you to be happy."  She held my arms and looked 
me in the eyes.  "I don't care if you're gay, or straight, or everything 
in between.  But I know you haven't been happy at school, and I have been 
wondering when you'd start to show an interest in girls.  I want you to 
be happy in everything."

"Mom, that's wonderful.  You're great.  But I don't know what I want".  

We hugged for a while longer, and then she decided it was probably best 
if we both just slept on it and dealt with it in the morning.  I kissed 
her goodnight and climbed the stairs.  I went to the bathroom and saw 
myself in the mirror again.  I still couldn't get over the difference in 
the way I looked.  I let down my hair, and was about to wash my face with 
some soap and water when my Mom appeared at the door.  "Use this" she 
said, handing me some cleansing cream.  I tissued it off, and began to 
brush out my hair.  That looked more like the old me, more of a mop.  But 
whatever Marcia had done earlier in the day, my hairstyle was still 
clearly a feminine one.  And she had thinned out my eyebrows much more 
than she'd claimed.  I was going to have to deal with all that tomorrow.  
I took out the earrings, painfully, and swabbed my earlobes with some 
antiseptic.  Then Mom came back with some small studs, that she pressed 
into my ears.  I looked at her quizzically.  "You can decide later if you 
want them to close up", she said with a sad smile.  She tousled my hair, 
and I walked off to my room.  There I carefully undressed, placing the 
lingerie and the dress carefully over a chair, and the funny fake breasts 
underneath the dress where they couldn't be seen.  I pulled on the 
oversize t-shirt I always slept in and was asleep almost as soon as I hit 
the bed.  The last thing I can remember thinking about was the way Paul's 
hands felt on me when we kissed.

***

Continued in Chapter 7.

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