For a Girl by J.T. D'Arelli (classic literature books TXT) 📕

I was getting more than a little irritated with her. If I needed to repeat my gym class performance from yesterday, I'd gladly put her in her place. I'd already noted my chest was much more substantial than hers. Meeeooowww!

"No... I'll... I'll see you 'round." She headed off to her coach and they began a spirited conversation.

Meanwhile, Coach Bradford came over to me. He was smiling broadly. "Well, Stephanie — how did it feel?"

"It was great!" I exclaimed. "Once the race started, something came over me. I just... went for it!"

"So it felt like the old days, eh?"

"Well, except for this freaking bra, but yes... wait a minute. You knew I'd react like this," I said accusingly.

"I had no doubt. Look, Stephanie — you're a competitor — you've got the fire, the determination to win. It doesn't matter one damn bit what your gender is. You want to be the best — whether as a boy or as a girl."

I stopped to consider that. He was right — I just hadn't expected to be... satisfied with winning a girl's race. But I was. And I was hungry for more. A lot more.

"Are you ready for your time?" he asked.

"Yeah — give it to me," I said reluctantly.

"4:49 — you finished 7 seconds ahead of McCarthy."

Last week I'd done a 3:59. I'd lost fifty seconds from my best. Even though I was expecting it, it was still depressing. I sighed. "I guess Jim Ryun's record is out of the picture, Coach. No way I'm ever going to get 3:55 in this body."

"Yes, Stephanie — his record is safe from you. But there's one record you can go for."

"What's that?"

"Mary Decker."

Now that got me thinking. If there was one female distance runner who'd captured my attention before GB, it was Mary Decker. She'd utterly dominated all high-school and college competition across the country during the 1970's. At one point, she'd held every national record from 800 meters all the way through 3000. She was so good she even beat the drugged-up East German and Russian 'women' during the 1983 World Cup.

Unfortunately, the Olympics had not been kind to her. She missed out on the 1980 Moscow games because of the Carter boycott — due to the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. And in the 1984 LA games, she had that infamous collision with Zola Budd halfway through the finals of the 3000 meters. I remembered her husband carrying her off the field, while she was in tears at the end of her Olympic dream.

Still, she was nearly as much of an American track legend as Ryun. "Coach, what is her high school record for the mile, anyway?"

"4:42 — it's stood for a number of years." Hmmm. Seven seconds faster than the time I'd run today. I began to wonder if I could reach it. I'd finished today's race with a lot left — maybe...

"There's something else, Stephanie. Your 4:49 today is the fastest any girl has run in the state in two years. It's one of the three fastest in the entire country so far this season. There's no doubt about it — proportionally, you're as good as a girl as you were a boy."

"So there might be some..."

"There will be some scholarships. The colleges will be salivating over you. And not just because of how you look in those shorts."

I blushed and... giggled. Giggled? The coach continued. "Sorry, Stephanie, I couldn't resist. So how about it? Are you going to finish the season?"

For the first time since I'd gotten the news about GB, I felt my dream was alive again. "Yes, Coach, I will."

"Good girl. I'll see you tomorrow at practice." And with that, he turned his attention back to the rest of the meet.

I spent the remainder of the competition in the bleachers with Becky, cheering on our team. Hal won the two-mile. I had to restrain myself from embracing him — my body was almost commanding me to give him another big hug — but I resisted. Barely.

Oddly, I noticed that Becky stayed in the bleachers while I was congratulating Hal. What was up with that?

We had several other good performances — but the final results were a mixed-bag. The Oxton boys beat our guys, but the Milford girls won — my victory over Melody had proved decisive in the team scoring. I got a lot of pats from the girls as we headed back to the locker room.

I noticed Becky was strangely silent, almost distant. And while it was still novel and fun to see the pretty, dark- haired girl in her underwear, I was worried. Once we were back into street clothes (hard to believe that meant me in a flowered pink dress!) — I pulled her aside.

"Becky, are you alright?"

She paused, looked at me with an uncertain expression, then nodded.

"What is it then?" I prodded.

"Look, Stephanie, I'm trying to be accepting of all this — but it's hard."

"What is, Becky?"

"This is going to sound so petty... but... last week I was the best girl miler Milford ever had. No, I couldn't beat Melody, but I was still pretty good. You got nearly all the attention as Jack, I mean, you are... were the fastest boy in America. But I had my... niche and I liked it."

I saw where she was going with this. "Then I got GB and rained all over your parade."

"More like a cloudburst. Jesus, Stephanie, you just broke my school record by 25 seconds! I've been running track for years — but nobody's going to remember me now. No scholarships are coming my way. And I feel so ridiculous complaining about it! I know you never wanted to get GB. You're just trying to do the best you can — and you've been doing so well! But... oh God, I feel like such a selfish bitch..."

"No, Becky, you're not being fair to yourself! I'm so sorry this all happened. I didn't mean to..."

"Turn into a girl?" she said sardonically.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I never wanted to steal your thunder, Becky. It's just that... running is a part of me, boy or girl."

"I know, Stephanie. And if you offer to quit, I'll smack you one. You were born to do this — I don't want you to stop at all. I was just being silly, that's all."

"No, Becky, you were being human. But what's up with you and Hal?"

She looked away for a moment. "I guess you haven't been female long enough to see what's in front of you."

"What do you mean?"

"Hal's falling for a girl, all right — but it's not me."

Did she mean... oh no! "Becky, don't tell me I wrecked you and..."

She looked surprised for a moment. Then she smiled. "No, no. You didn't break us up. I wasn't sure about Hal even before you got back from GRS. But I still had a little hope for us — until I saw his face when he met the new you."

"I'm not following..."

"Stephanie, for somebody who used to be one, you've sure got a lot to learn about boys. Hal's already got a crush on you! It shouldn't be a surprise — you two were best friends for years. And then you turn into this cute girl. You guys had already bonded emotionally, but now there's an even better reason for you to get a little... closer."

Was she right? Did Hal really want me — as a girl? And did I... encourage it? "Becky... I swear I wasn't thinking like that."

She laughed. "I know you weren't, Stephanie. It's not your style to begin with and you've hardly had the time to learn feminine wiles."

"So let's see. I break your record, take all your well- deserved attention, and capture your boyfriend's... interest."

"Yeah... that about sums it up."

"And you're still speaking to me?"

She took a deep breath. "What I'm doing, Stephanie, is out of respect for Jack. He... you were always a class act. The fact that you had Sue as your girlfriend proved it — she's the sweetest person I've ever known."

"Well I think you're neck-and-neck with her."

Her eyes softened. "Anyway, I know you didn't ask for any of this — it just worked out that way. So I'm on your side — even now."

I felt my heart melt. I wrapped my arms around her and whispered my thanks.

After a few moments, she pulled back and looked into my eyes. "Crying, are we?"

"If you tell anyone, I'll say it's allergies."

She smiled... though a bit of sadness remained. "Let's get out of here." We headed home.

As you know, teenagers occupy a solipsistic universe. With the possible exception of toddlers, few people are more self-centered. But with the right friends and families, kids can get past that egocentric stage. Ever since GB, though, I'd been slipping. Up to now, I'd only focused on how becoming a girl affected ME. I hadn't really considered the emotional impact on Mom, Sue, Becky and... Hal.

Now I can cut myself a little slack here. Changing sex is a damn good reason to concentrate on one's own situation. But even so, I had to remember there were other special people out there — whose feelings I needed to keep in mind. I resolved to do better.

That resolve was really tested with my Mom, though. During dinner, she asked me about my day. We talked about my dress, classes, how I felt about wearing a dress, teachers, how pretty I was in my dress, friends, and what dress I was going to wear tomorrow. The weird part was, I actually enjoyed spending all that time discussing clothes. As a boy, clothing was utilitarian — as a girl, clothing was an end in itself.

Then we got to track.

"So you ran against, what was it... Oxton?"

"Yes. It was great! I beat Melody McCarthy — she's one of the best in the state. And Coach Bradford says I did the third fastest girl's mile in the country this year. He even thinks I can break Mary Decker's national record!" I was bubbling with enthusiasm.

"Are you going to finish the season?"

"Absolutely. We got the divisional meet coming up Friday — the first step on the way to the state championships!"

Mom didn't reply. Instead, she pushed her plate back and sighed.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I'd hoped that after... GB, you might... reassess your priorities."

"Are you saying..."

"Stephanie... I'm just a little disappointed that you're pressing on with all this track foolishness. Especially now that you're a..."

"Because I'm a girl? Are you saying girls shouldn't be athletic?" I replied disbelievingly.

"No, no... there's nothing wrong with a girl who's into sports. What I'm saying is that you need to concentrate on the things that matter. Now, more than ever."

"Mom, I can't believe this. You still don't get it, do you? Track is not something I do, it's what I AM! But you never see that! You just think it's some hobby that keeps me away from the books. You're so damned obsessed with grades and transcripts. I get good marks — I'm going to get into college. Why isn't that enough for you? Why?!" My voice rose in tone and volume during my diatribe, reaching a very womanly shriek.

"Stephanie, it's hard to explain — but try to listen to me. Your father and I married when we were very young. I dropped out of college to be with him... because that's what I was raised to do. I was expected to find a nice man, and start a family. I barely even considered any other options — I'd been so brainwashed by the 'feminine mystique'. But your father and I were far too young and immature to make it work. The only good to come out of that marriage was you."

"So when he left, I was a single mom with no education. I was lucky to get the job I did at the factory — at least I was an office worker. Your father... well, you know the history there."

I did. 'Dad' barely put in an appearance while I was