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

None of that. I wasn't really surprised. By now, I'd learned that most boys' assumptions about girls were no more accurate than medieval Europeans' assumptions about a flat earth. Fact is, a girls' slumber party wasn't really all that different from a guys' 'bull session'. We talked about boys, teachers, boys, homework, boys, graduation, boys, sports, boys, clothes and for a little variety — boys. Once again, I was learning that girls were people, too. Sure, they... we dressed a little different (just look at the ruffles on the seat of my panties!), and we communicated differently — but girls and guys really have similar aspirations. Good friendships, success in school, sports, getting into the right college and romance.

There was a lot of gossip about who was going out with whom, and I took more than a little ribbing about Hal. But I knew the girls were just having fun, so I went along with the laughter and had a good time.

Then things got a little more serious. The girls finally broached the hidden topic — my ambiguous gender. I knew they were curious. After all, how often does a girl get a chance to ask another girl what it's like being a boy?

"I heard about that whole injunction thing," Sue said. "Are you really going to court?"

"Yep. I have to get a ruling about my legal status if I want to compete as a female."

Karen, one of Sue's cheerleading buddies asked, "But won't that be embarrassing — having to testify about your body and all?"

"Maybe. But if I back down, that will just give more ammo to all those who feel GB girls aren't really women. I've got to face this now, or I'll be dealing with it the rest of my life."

"That's so brave."

"I wouldn't go that far. Let's just say it needs to be done, and I'm going to do it."

"So you really see yourself as a girl," Becky said.

"Yes," I said. "I'd better, considering how I'm dressed." There were some chuckles at that.

Karen spoke again. "So what do you like or not like about a girl's body?"

I thought for a moment. "I guess I could sum it up this way - I like panties, but I don't care for bras." Puzzled looks from the others. "Okay. I mean, I like how a girl is built... down below. It's... nicer than being a boy. And panties are soft and pretty and fun." A few nods at that. "But I'm having more trouble with my... chest and the bras that go with it. It's awkward. And it makes me self- conscious."

"I think I understand. And with your chest, you've got more to worry about," Karen replied jealously.

I blushed. "Maybe — but it's a tradeoff. I guess that's the story of life. You get positives and negatives either way."

"But overall, do you like it — as a girl?" Arleen, quiet up to now, spoke.

I paused. Then, "Yeah — I... I really do. I mean, there are a lot of things I miss about being a guy, but..." I paused again, thinking. "But there's something special about being a girl. I can't really put my finger on it, but it's cool in its own way. I've still got a lot to figure out though."

"Do you like it — better?" Arleen spoke again.

I really thought hard before answering. "I don't know. But I'm beginning to think it's possible. I can't believe I'm saying this... but I think a day might come when I'll like being a girl enough that I wouldn't want to go back."

There were smiles all around. Then Sue stepped out for a moment. The other girls seemed to be waiting for something — there was anticipation in the air. Then Sue returned, carrying a box.

"I've talked this over with the others, and we all agree. We want you to have this." And she handed the box to me. Tentatively, I took it from her and opened it.

Inside was a cheerleading uniform.

Astonished, I felt my jaw drop. I looked at Sue and her teammates in shock. They smiled back at me, along with Becky and Arleen (who were not on the squad, but were clearly enjoying the moment).

"You... you want me to be a..."

"Yes. You can say it, Stephanie. We want you to be a cheerleader with us."

I picked up the gold top with the dark-blue pleated skirt in amazement. "I... I don't know what to say..." I stammered.

"Say you'll join us, silly," Karen responded.

I felt a surge of emotion run through me. I couldn't believe how thoughtful, how accepting they were!

Sue sensed my confusion. "I think I can speak for all of us when I say how much we liked you as Jack. And not just in the romantic way," she said with a wistful look. "You were one of the good guys. And we were all worried about how you'd handle becoming a girl. So many guys act as if girls are second-class citizens. But you've been great. You didn't sit around moping about how being female was a shameful thing. You didn't act like you'd been demoted by your new gender. Instead, you threw yourself into it like it was some... some track meet. One week as a girl and you're wearing bikinis and baby-dolls, running races, hanging out with your girlfriends and falling for a great guy. But even more than that, you're treating your femininity with respect — and that reflects well on us all."

The rest of the girls nodded in affirmation as my eyes grew watery. My god, they were so sweet! I felt so, so lucky to have these friends. I'd never experienced anything like this as a boy. Remember when I said I could imagine a point where I'd prefer to stay this way? At that moment, I was nearly there.

I knew Sue was taking a risk here. She'd been captain of the cheerleaders for the last two years — so she'd shaped the team in her image. You know how in some schools, cheerleaders are emotional terrorists — wielding their popularity as a weapon to dominate less fortunate girls and boys alike. Sue, of course, was different. Her team did volunteer work in the community and helped out younger kids with counseling. Yeah, the girls were human, so there was some sense of 'specialness' about them — but they really tried hard to avoid looking down on those not so well placed in the social order.

Inviting me onto the squad was chancy for Sue. She'd probably take some heat from parents and students — those who agreed with the Oxton assessment that I wasn't a real girl. But it was symbolic as well. The football and basketball seasons were long since over — there were only a few weeks to graduation. Just naming me to the squad carried a message. Nothing conveyed the image of the 'All- American Girl' more than a high-school cheerleader.

Karen spoke up then. "Bottom line, Stephanie — we're proud of you. And wait 'till they learn in court you're on the squad! That'll show those Oxton twits." She said that with such determination, I felt my heart leap.

Oprah time. I nodded my acceptance and burst into happy tears. Then there were group hugs, sniffles and lots of pats. I was truly touched by their gesture.

I can't really say that girls have closer friendships with each other than guys do with their own gender. But I can say girls express it far more readily, and that made me feel very supported by them — which in turn led to my tears. I felt ever so grateful to have these young women in my life.

After I got under control, Karen said to Sue, "Is she going to go through the..."

"Initiation? No, I think that's a bit much to expect of her," Sue replied.

Nervousness again. "What's the initiation?" I asked.

"Well... as you know, we wear the uniforms once a week. There's a tradition we have for a new cheerleader." She hesitated, and actually blushed.

Karen picked it up. "When a new girl wears her uniform to school for the first time, she puts on the skirt, the blouse and the vest. But she doesn't put on the..."

"What?" I asked, growing a little exasperated.

"Her tights!" all four of the cheerleaders laughed at once.

"Wait a minute..."

Arleen chuckled. "You know, I'd wondered about that," she said.

Sue spoke up again, noting my confusion. "I keep forgetting you used to be a boy — so you probably aren't up on all the details. You see, Stephanie, cheerleaders wear matching tights under their skirts — they're really special panties that go over the girl's underwear. It gives her a little modesty, which we all need considering how short these skirts are. Years ago, a ritual got started among the Milford cheerleaders (don't ask me how) — when a new girl was welcomed onto the squad, she had to spend one day at school, in the uniform, without tights."

"But that would mean..." I said, almost horrified.

"Yep. Everyone would see her panties. Her everyday panties. There's no way for a girl to keep them from peeking out when she's dressed like that. And you know how boys are..."

I had to laugh. "Yeah, I think I do."

"But we don't expect you to carry on like that. We know you're kind of a special case." Sue tried to reassure me.

I thought I'd caught a glimpse or two of underwear beneath a cheerleader's skirt over the years. But as a boy, I had no awareness of feminine apparel, so I just enjoyed the view. Now, though, it would be my turn. They were offering me an out — should I take it?

"Did all of you go through this?" I asked. They nodded. "Then I will too. Just promise not to laugh, Okay?" The whole squad applauded me. "That's our girl!" one commented.

"And the tradition goes on," Sue said. "Needless to say, you'd better wear your prettiest undies — because every guy in the school will be seeing them."

I shuddered. What had I gotten into? Oh, well. Besides, there was a naughty part of me that liked the idea of teasing the boys.

After that, we turned to other topics. More conversation, snacks, music and so on. It was a lot of fun. And of course, no slumber party would be complete without the interruption by the annoying little brother. His name was Chuck, about 13 or so — Becky caught him on the stairs, spying on us.

Several of us squealed, pretending to be shy. I just stood, frozen in place as the young boy studied my appearance, open-mouthed. Jesus, I'd thrown footballs around with this kid and now he was seeing me in frilly baby-doll pajamas! I blushed.

"Cute panties!" he said admiringly to me as Sue ordered him back upstairs. I ruefully shook my head — that was just a taste of what I would go through when I wore my cheerleading suit to school. God help me. And yet, I wasn't entirely unhappy.

Later, Arleen and I got a quiet moment. She eyed me up and down — I could tell she was very pleased with my outfit.

"I just wanted to thank you for inviting me, Stephanie. You know I don't get out much and you know why. But tonight's been a lot of fun," she smiled at me.

"I'm really glad, Arleen. It meant a lot to me to have you here."

"And I'm so happy for you with joining the squad and all. I mean — I usually look upon cheerleading as a construct of the patriarchy intended to indoctrinate young girls for a life of being sex objects..."

I laughed at the classic clichÈd analysis. "I take it you've already audited a women's studies course over at the university."

She laughed too. "Well, maybe it's not that bad. But in your case, it's just right. It's the camaraderie, being accepted for what you've become. You're a classy dame, Stephanie."

"So are you, Arleen."

We exchanged a hug and rejoined the others. As my mom