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The First Day

Those three chapters are probably going to be the shortest ones. Because now, chaos really starts.

From that day, Saturday, for the rest of summer, I had to be a boy. Wilma and Josie helped me with my voice, my actress pad I got used to, I could even sleep in my wig, and Dad helped me with my athleticism. I even felt like a boy. I would always use the stall in the boys' bathroom; who cares what people think? And I would wear actual underwear underneath.

Anyways, Dad was also the one who taught me about the sports and video game stuff. I was so glad, because I know that was what all guys talked about, pretty much. Except for girls. But I already knew enough; besides, I didn't want to know about girls or anything. Ugh.

On the first day of school, I was pretty anxious. I quickly got ready; I threw a dark green shirt, and black athletic shorts and adjusted my wig. It was so weird. I looked so much like a boy, and I could even respond to "Terrence." Weird. Creepy.

Cool.

I hopped down the stairs – boy style – and into the kitchen. As I expected, Wilma was in the kitchen, eating an omelet.

"Good morning," she greeted me. "My new little brother."

"Guess I'll have to get used to that," I grinned. "So, excited for the first day of school?"

"Tone down your voice a little," she said. "And yeah, I am. Aren't you nervous, though, since you're gonna need to pass for a boy?"

"No sweat," I said. I hopped onto the chair and said, "I seriously can't wait. Boys are supposed to have gargantuan appetites. No more bread sticks! I can't believe I ate them. I'm glad Dad starved me for two days to expand my appetite and keep my high metabolism."

"Now you're starting to talk like a guy," Wilma grinned. "I may believe that you even are one!"

"Yeah, right," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "I prefer to keep my feminine side at home, thank you. At school, you'll know me as a guy."

"I'll try," smiled Wilma. She got up and went to the stove. "Omelet?

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

I walked to the bus stop. I have to admit, I was kind of nervous, but I was excited too. I wonder how life will be, for a girl to be a boy. Well, I was going to find out.

I waited impatiently for my bus. Wilma was next to me, but she was too busy listening to her iPod. I was way too nervous and jittery now as I thought about my "new life." I bounced on the balls of my feet, observing the people at my bus stop. There was a girl with a miniskirt and a knitted sweater, looking popular, but bored. There was another girl, who just greeted her friend, and they were talking about random stuff. There was a boy who looked bored as well, looking down a street from the intersection of our bus stop, waiting impatiently for his friend who was walking down the path. The middle schoolers were endlessly jabbering on about their summers. I walked towards the boy.

"What time does the bus arrive?" I asked impatiently, but I wasn't complaining to him. Rule One to small talk: act casual and/or complain about an easily agreeable subject. (According to Wilma, at least.)

The boy looked at me, surprised. "Oh, at 6:50. Are you new? Were you the people who moved here in June?"

"Yeah," I replied. I put on my masculine smile (Dad taught me the difference). Awkwardly, I said, "I'm Terrence Nazereth."

"Norman Atern," he said. "Do you have, like, three sisters?"

"No, only two," I said. "Nice to meet you. How's Middy High?"

"Oh, it's a good school, but we're not really labeled," answered Norman casually. "How about your old school?"

"In Minnesota? We labeled way too much," I answered. To the relief of my steaming neck, which was burning under my wig, the bus came. Norman abandoned me for some of his friends, but I pretended not to mind. (Boys don't care, apparently). I heaved my backpack into an empty seat, and stared out the window boredly.

"Can I sit here?"

When I looked up, I saw a boy with wavy brown hair, bright green eyes and black iPod earphones. Yep, it was Drew. (Okay, I lied. The first words he said to me weren't "Yo, dude, you new here?" But that doesn't really count.)

I nodded and moved my backpack from next to me to on my lap. He put his backpack on his lap, did something on his iPod, and observed me, saying, "Yo, dude, you new here? Where did you come from?"

My feminine side already fell head-over-heels for him, but my masculine side took over and said, "Yeah, I'm new. I just moved from Minnesota." (Note to self: as a boy, say "dude" more often.)

"St. Paul?" asked Drew. I shook my head.

"No, Frocksen," I replied. "How did you know that I was new?"

"Well, all the dudes in sophomore here are in the same gym class. Never seen you," said Drew. He took off an iPod earphone and handed it to me. "You wanna listen?"

"Sure," I replied. I put it in. Misery Loves Its Company by The Red Jumpsuit was playing. He's a normal guy here in California, music taste.

"Do you like football?" asked Drew. "I mean, I've known some guys who don't."

"Heck yes," I replied. Then, realizing I used a somewhat feminine phrase, I passed it, by saying, "Seahawks are the best!" (My dad made me watch videos; yes, he's pretty obsessed with football himself.)

"No way!" said Drew enthusiastically. He looked like he had never met another dude (my masculine vocabulary word of the day) who liked football. "Eagles are so much better!"

Since even though talking about football is fun, telling about people talking about football is boring. Apparently, he and I were basically the only guys who really liked football. The rest of these dudes In our school have not been introduced to the amazingness of ball de foot. I am such a guy.

Once the bus moved into the high school grounds, Drew and I started to put our backpacks on. We started talking about video games. (Dad got me hooked.)

"Melee is the best game ever. Period," I said.

"Yeah," Drew agreed. "Though, you gotta admit that Mario Party and Guitar Hero are awesome."

"Yeah," I said, starting to get up as the bus pulled in and stopped. We clambered out of our seats, talking about sports and video games. As previously said, those are the only things really important in a guy's life.

"Hey, don't you have another sister in high school?" asked Drew, looking after Wilma. I glared at her retreating back. "Wilma?"

"No, she's like your age," said Drew, looking back at me. "I saw you guys move in when I was at my friend's house, though I didn't see you. She was pretty cute. Think you could hook me up with her?"

OH MY GOD!! HE JUST CALLED ME CUTE!!

"Erm, another sister, besides Josie, who's three?" I asked, confused. "Um, I don't think I have another sister."

"Oh," said Drew, faltering. Not succumbed by his change of mood, I marveled at Middy. "Whoa, this place is huge!"

"Well, actually, compared to other schools, this place is pretty tiny," said Drew. "We're in California, y'know. This part is pretty close to Malibu."

"Oh," I said. "But compared to the schools in Minnesota, this place is seriously tremendous."

"Wow," said Drew. We walked in through the front doors, and he showed me around.

"That's the library," he said, pointing to a bunch of lined up windows and a door. "It's also really big, actually, since this place is major with academics. On sports, we're okay. Those are the art classrooms," he added, as we made our way down the hall. "My locker's down here. What about yours?"

"Oh, er..."I hesitated. I had gotten my letter two weeks ago, with my locker number and combination, but now I forgot it. Drew just grinned and said, "Dude, Ill take you to the office, and we can ask."

"Thanks," I said, relieved. It's a girl's instinct to worry.

We walked a little more down the hallway and turned right. I saw a lot of girls looking my way and giggling. A little disturbing...but I think I can ignore it. Drew did, at least.

Once we arrived at the office, the lady behind the counter turned to us and asked, "How can I help you two boys?"

"Oh, er, I forgot my locker number," I said, embarrassed. It felt kind of weird being called a boy. The lady sighed. It looked like she had done this many times this morning. "Let's see," she said, turning to her computer. "What's your last name?"

"Nazereth," I said.

"Locker 457, Terrence," said the lady tiredly.

"Thanks," I said.

"Sweet! Your locker is right next to mine!" said Drew. I grinned at him, then turned back to the lady.

"Combination?"

"Oh, here," said the lady, writing it down on a slip of paper. 9-2-14. Easy enough. I tossed it in a trashcan, and the lady eyed me, annoyed.

We walked down the hallway, talking some more.

"So, who's everyone around here?" I asked, looking at a bunch of cliques of girls, boys, and girls and boys. Drew just smiled. "This should take a while."

We walked down the Art hallway, which I discovered to be the tenth grade hallway. Drew started to point people out.

"Jeffrey Ronzo, aka Jeff," said Drew, pointing out a really hot blond guy who looked like he was making out with someone under him against a wall. "Most popular dude. He's a jerk, but he can be nice. Oh, the girl under him is Marianne Walsh. Popular. Cheerleader. Slut," he added with distaste. I felt a pang. She would probably be my friend if I was a girl.

We walked down some more. "Barbara, Delilah, Christine and Erin," he pointed out. "More populars. More cheerleaders. More sluts. Elise, Henrietta, Ophelia, Gordon, Chris and Vane. Goths. Emos. Norman, Richard, Hank and Dallas. My friends."

"Hey Drew!" yelled Norman, whom I recognized to be the guy from my bus stop. "Dude, what's up?" They clapped each other on the backs.

"Nothin' much, dude," said Drew. "Guys, this is Terrence. He's new here."

"Hey, you're the dude who was at the bus stop!" said Norman, clapping me too. I did my best not to flinch, but grinned. "Oh yeah, you're the guy who said that this place ain't labeled!" (How's that for guy talk?)

"You said that, Norm?" said Drew, surprised. The other guys looked at him too in bewilderment.

"Oh, come on," said Norman, rolling his eyes. "We don't have delinquents, to we? And we don't have labels!"

"Nerds," said some random guy, walking past us, and looking at our direction.

"You're not helping, you know!" Norman called after him.

"Well, I'm Dallas," said the dark haired one. "Where'd you move from?"

"Minnesota," I answered, suddenly aware of my guy-likeness. I readjusted my backpack.

"Minnesota? Halfway across the country? What for?" asked the blond guy. "I'm Rick, by the way. Short for Richard."

"Oh, my dad had a job transfer," I said. "He's a lawyer."

"Bo-ring," said the last guy, whom I presumed to be Hank. I recognized him as the other guy from my street. "Let's talk about something else. Like, did you see how hot that new senior on the bus was? The blond?"

"Dude, I think you're talking about my sister!" I laughed. Drew grinned and said to me, looking at Hank, "He's a pervert."

"I resent that!" said Hank mock-offendedly. Dallas smirked.

"How can you resent something that's perfectly true?" he said.

"Well..." Hank hesitated, thinking, then said, "Whatever. Hey, Terrence, think you could hook me up with your sister?"

"Dude, no offense, but I don't really think she'd like you," I said, grinning. Hank did the "offended" look, and said, looking down at himself, "What would she not like about me?"

I grinned.

"Okay, well, number one, she doesn't like short guys," I said, observing his height, since Wilma only liked guys who were like a foot taller than her, not five inches. "Number two--gelled hair? Gotta go."

"Hey, I spent ten minutes on this!" said Hank. I rose my eyebrows.

"Okay, fine, gelled hair is fine," I admitted. "But either your hair is naturally messy, or you mess it up with gel and let it fall over your eyes. Number three, she likes jocks. Number four, she doesn't like glasses, and number five, she doesn't date sophomores."

"Okay, so all I have to do--" Hank started counting off his fingers "--is un-gel my hair, grow tall (aka drink milk), play sports, get contacts and skip two grades."

"Oh my God, you are so pathetic," said Norman, rolling his eyes. Hank rolled his. "Hello? Sarcasm!"

"They always get into arguments," amused Drew. I smiled. Just like girls.

"Oh, just to point something out," I said to Hank, cutting between his conversation with Norman, "milk doesn't help you grow tall. It just builds strong bones."

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

"Nazereth, Terrence?"

I took my nose out of my book. I decided to give On The Road a try. My Chemistry teacher, Mrs. Schafe, was taking attendance. My books were safely under my desk, as I was so absorbed in this book. I didn't even know what part of my was taking all this in, but as long as I was, I was fine. I think Wilma's gonna get me hooked.

"Er, here," I replied. Mrs. Schafe smiled at me. "Welcome to Middy." I smiled back sweetly, but managed to keep a masculine look, but instead of returning to my book, I decided to observe the people in the room.

Drew, Hank and Rick, who were in this class were with me, were talking about some books called Harry Potter, which I've heard of, but only seen the movies. (Actually, Hank was just staring at girls' cleavage.) Jeff, the hot popular boy, was leaning back in his desk, with his hands behind his back. Five other boys made the male population of this class, then the rest of the nine were girls. Two of them I recognized as "sluts" according to Drew. Three looked Gothic, and four of them were chatting quietly, quite normal-looking. I guess that puts them in the "nerd" category.

"Hey, Terrence, you read Harry Potter?" asked Rick, turning to me. I shrugged. "No, not really."

"You don't read Harry Potter?!" said Drew incredulously.

"Well, I watch the movies," I said timidly. Drew and Rick stared at me, wide-eyed, surprised at my failure at life.

"Here's the first," offered Rick, tossing me an almost-equally thick book as On The Road. I caught it, and read the back. Interesting.

I felt my stomach tighten suddenly. In the midst of Mrs. Schafe's attendance taking, I rose my hand. Mrs. Schafe looked at me. "Yes, Terrence?"

"Um, can I go to the bathroom?" I asked, in my best innocent boy voice.

"Sure," she answered.

I walked out of the classroom, and looked for a bathroom. Finally finding one at the end of the hallway, I walked in...

...and found myself face-to-face with a girl.

For a second, I relaxed, then realized I was a guy. I froze in horror. The girl shrieked when she saw me, and I said, "Oh, sorry, sorry!" I tried to put my hands on her mouth to shut her up, but she slapped me away and yelled, "GET AWAY FROM ME, PERVERT!!" and ran out. I looked after her.

"Okee, then," I muttered, sure that all the blood had gone to my face. I quickly walked out, found the guys' bathroom, went, and went back to my classroom. Drew and Rick stared at my bright red face as I walked in.

"Dude, what happened?" asked Drew, as I sat down. I sighed.

"It accidentally went in the girls' room," I answered. Drew and Rick exchanged looks of awe and disgust. I sighed. Then Drew and Rick burst out laughing.

"Waiting for that," I muttered to myself. Mrs. Schafe looked at the two hysterical guys.

"Boys in the back, please quiet down," she said forcibly. "Terrence, are you okay? Your face is awfully red."

"I'm fine," I muttered, sinking lower in my seat, as Rick and Drew laughed even harder.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Chemistry, Art, Computer Dynamics and Language Arts passed quickly. Lunch was at 10:50, thank God, like an hour earlier than at my old school. I quickly closed my locker, and sighing, leaning against it, patiently waiting for Drew. He looked at me funnily.

"What?" I asked.

"Are you waiting for me?" he asked, frowning. I then realized that girls waited for each other before lunch. I covered such femininity by saying, "Well, yes. I'm new, and I don't exactly want to look like a complete idiot walking down the catwalk."

"Good point," Drew agreed. "Okay, hold on." He shoved his literature textbook into his locker. "Stupid--damn--textbook." He shoved it in a gap between his coat and backpack, and shut his locker door quickly before anything threatened to fall out.

"So, how's this school's cafeteria food?" I grinned. Drew stuck his tongue out as a reply. I chuckled. Inside of me, I swallowed. Time to test out that bottomless pit of mine.

When we entered the room, many people stared at us. Drew was casual, but I was nervous. Guess it was called the "new kid" stare. I got my tray, uncomfortably wary of people staring at me. Honestly! Would they really rather stare at the "new kid" than eat?

Getting – and, oh God, if the girls back home see me eating this – lasagna, a cheese stick, a banana, iced tea (not diet!!), a cookie, and a bag of chips, I followed Drew to his table, where Norman and Rick were sitting and eating. Disgustingly.

"Hey man, what's up?" asked Rick, half-spitting all over the table. I tried not to stare.

"Nothin' much," I replied. Norman turned to us.

"Nice down the catwalk," he said, grinning. "And your first day, too! Last year, in October, there was this other kid, Frank Monanoes--" and he pointed to a kid sitting at the "geek" table "--and on his first day, he got so scared that he accidentally peed himself."

"But why does everyone stare at you when you get food?" I asked, frowning. "I mean, seriously. Who came up with it?"

"It's just everyone who has Lunch A," Rick said, grimacing. "The seniors love doing it to freshmen and new kids. Lucky Dallas; he has Lunch C."

I did my best to – ugh – ignore the disgustingness of the guys eating, though I was starved myself, and somehow managed to finish my lunch. Like, everything. It was so freaking ridiculous. I couldn't believe it. I mean, I"m Gwendolyn Nazereth! (aka Terrence) Since when could I finish an extremely cheesy lasagna, a whole bag of potato chips, a bottle of iced tea, a banana, an extremely cheesy cheese stick and a cookie? And all I used to have for lunch was diet iced tea and bread sticks!!

Ah, I love being a boy. (Kind of)

The rest of the day was über boring. I hung out with Dallas, Drew, Rick, Norman, Hank and a few other guys in their group I had never met this morning--Shawn (who moved from Maine and said he had a girlfriend up there named Georgia), Mario (who skipped a grade) and Alec. After school, which was also awfully boring, I, after many pleads to my parents, went to Norman's house with the guys where we got some neighborhood kids and played football.

Well, if this tells you anything, the only athletic thing I ever did was cheerleading. And tennis, but I only played it last year. Nice, huh?

After that, when I got home, my dad asked, "So, how was your first day of school?"

"Awesome," I replied, grinning from ear-to-ear.

Well, except for the part where I went to the girls' bathroom.