It's Just A Skirt

by Matthew Potter

  It’s Just a Skirt

  By Matthew Potter

  Text Copyright © 2017 Matthew Potter

  All Rights Reserved

  1.

  “C’mon dude it’s just a skirt”

  Famous last words.

  Not mine of course but they sure felt like it.

  “That is not just a skirt” I replied, well more of a whine than anything.

  The four of them loomed around me, a towering forest of upper classmen. Me, the shortest and currently youngest one in the Common room at the moment. I was doing all I could do not to run away. Not that I would have gotten very fair, after all, they had me circled in. Not in a menacing away of course but still it was as it was. I did agree to this, though. Albeit a little reluctantly but I still told them I’d do it. Now though I was definitely having second thoughts.

  “C’mon Georgie, it’s only going to be for a couple of hours,” said Frank, trying to use that smooth talking he was so proud of.

  It was all his scheme.

  Ok, not really scheme.

  Heist.

  You see it all actually started a couple of days ago. It was only the first week of the new semester, like usual I was completely ignored by my peers. Not by choice mind you. I was the short, little freshman that no one seemed to want to be friends with. I didn’t really want to be friends with any of them anyway. Most of my fellow dorm mates were of the wild variety. All into sports and FPS video games. I was more of the read books and RPG kind of guy. That’s how these four found me actually. I was sitting by the fire in one of those large comfy chairs, trying to be ignored while losing myself in the latest Marco Riley---you know that famous sci-fi writer.

  It was Frank who approached.

  Frank Curtis, big man on campus. In more ways than one. Frank reminded me a lot of my brothers. He was tall, good looking and thrust himself about like he owned the place. It didn’t help that his family actually did. Well, not the whole place but this building had their name on it. Curtis Hall, named after one of his grandfathers’s I think. It must have been nice to be rich enough to have a building named after you. I guess that didn’t really mean that he owned it but Frank seemed to think it did. I heard some of the girls call him charming but it wasn’t charm that Frank used.

  It was manipulation.

  He approached me and called me Georgie. Georgie, oh god I hated that.

  It made me sound like I was five.

  Not that people called me that when I was five but you get the drift. I knew why he had called me it, though. It was because I was so short. Everyone always thought I was younger than I was because of my size. Ok so I’d only been thirteen for a couple of weeks but that didn’t mean I was any less of a man because of it. It did bother me somewhat, though. My birthday was at the end of July, school usually started in the second week of August. So I was always a little younger than the kids in my grade level. I know what you're thinking, yes thirteen is young for a freshman but at this school, it was the norm.

  My condition didn’t help either.

  I think Frank knew something even if he didn’t openly say it. He used it to his advantage, though. He got me to go over to the sectional in front of the TV where his friends were waiting. The other three who were currently standing around me. That’s where they laid out their little dilemma and how I was currently standing here with them. Frank had a bit of a problem. He’d been dating this girl Cheryl for a couple of years now. Cheryl Flynn actually. I knew her but only by reputation. She was a pretty red head, had a smattering of freckles on her cheeks. I’d seen her around here and there, mostly with Frank.

  Well used to be with Frank.

  They’d had a messy break up over the summer apparently.

  Not that I cared.

  Frank did, though.

  Well, more importantly, he cared about the rather expensive necklace he’d given to her. It was a family heirloom. He told me that Cherry---her friends called her that---was supposed to be the one. She never got the memo though and dumped him after returning from vacation. Rumor is she actually got a little bi-curious with a girl in Cabo, it was quite the scandal. Anyway, long story short, he needed the necklace back. Cherry had refused to give it to him and he was up the creek as they say. That’s where I came in.

  Frank and his buddies had devised this great plan.

  They knew of only two times that girls were not allowed to wear jewelry. One was when they were in gym class and the other was during service.

  Yes, this was a Catholic boarding school.

  We had morning and evening services.

  During service, the girls were asked to refrain from wearing any kind of jewelry. I’m not really sure why. I didn’t really care. It didn’t concern me after all. It concerned Frank, though. Because it was all part of their elaborate “heist”. They needed someone to get into the girl’s common room, make their way into the upper girl’s dorm and retrieve said piece of jewelry for them. That someone was going to be me apparently. I thought it was because I was so small and easily missed. That’s what Frank said when he pitched the idea to me. I didn’t actually agree to it until he flashed the cash. I’m not exactly broke---my dad was a lawyer---but we didn’t have Frank’s money. I didn’t need the cash either, I got a decent allowance. I just didn’t want to do something for nothing when it didn’t really concern me.

  I NEVER agreed to the uniform, though.

  That brings us back to the present.

  “Couple of hours” I snorted. “Well then why don’t you wear it for those hours and tell me how it is”

  Two of his friends let out a laugh, the other smirked.

  Frank glared.

  I don’t think he got told “No” very often.

  He shoved the uniform he was holding at one of his friends and bent down so we were eye to eye. He was going to try intimidating me. It probably would have worked if I was actually scared of him. Well ok, so I was scared but only because there were four of them. I wasn’t however scared of him per se. Like I said I had older brothers, two of them in fact. Both of whom were taller, bigger and a lot scarier than Frank. Not that I got beat up at home or anything. I did from time to time cross one of them and that caused problems.

  If you have brothers than you know what I mean.

  Anyway, Frank was not my brothers.

  “Listen Georgie,” he said, putting what he thought was a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You’d be doing me a real big favor. Look you’re the only one who can do it. The uniform belongs to my sister, you’re the only one in this whole dorm small enough to fit in it”

  That was sadly true.

  Here at St. Andrew’s, the grade levels were split into different dorms.

  The real young ones like first through fourth grade were in one dorm, the fifth through seventh graders in another. Eighth through twelve were in the last block. Last year I wouldn’t have had a problem because I was about the same size of most of my peers. Sadly, puberty had not been kind. In fact, it was never going to be kind to me. Whereas most of my friends grew taller and started taking on manlier bodies, I was still stuck as shrimpy little George. I was only five foot three and weighed about one hundred and ten pounds according to my physical last week. It wasn’t going to get much better either. I’d had the whole summer to accept that. I had my whole life before that to get used to it actually.

  I was used to it now.

  What I wasn’t fond of though was people trying to take advantage of it.

  "This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

  I was crossing my arms now, trying to look pissed and intimidating but I knew it wasn’t working. Frank’s smirk confirmed that. It also told me the answer before he spoke.

  “I’d be lying if I sai
d it wasn’t,” he said then chose his next words carefully. “You being the size you are, you’re the only one who can do it.”

  "You said that already”

  His hand was still on my shoulder and I felt his grip tighten.

  “You’d be doing me a real big favor,” he said through gritted teeth.

  Frank wasn’t stupid, though. I could see he was getting angry now. Not only from his facial tics but his body language told me that much. Not only was he tightening his grip on my shoulder but his other fist was clenched at his side. His body was tense too. He was preparing to lose his temper. He was holding it in real well, though. Like I said, he wasn’t stupid. He knew he’d lose his only advantage---me---if he took a swing.

  I couldn’t help but smile at that.

  “The way I see it,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Is that you need me”

  “Yes,” he said, still gritting.

  I didn’t want to wear the uniform, in fact, I was scared to wear it. I did, however, need the cash. I said I had an allowance, emphasis on the “had” part. You see I have a bit of a computer gaming/book problem. I like my RPGs a little too much sadly and what money I had after the usual expenses was all but gone. Frank was already agreeing to give me fifty bucks for this whole ordeal which would last the rest of the week. Dad, however, was teaching me a lesson in responsibility and wasn’t going to send me any more cash until next month so I still needed more money.

  Call it extortion if you like but what they were trying to do to me was a lot worse.

  “So,” I said, relaxing my shoulders a bit. “What’s in it for me?”

  “I’m already giving you fifty bucks” snapped Frank, not holding back the restraint anymore.

  “Yeah that was for larceny,” I said quickly “this is not only larceny but a whole lot more. You have any idea what will happen if I’m caught?”

  “Its only larceny if the item belongs to her,” he said quickly. “It wasn’t hers, its mine”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “I mean my family’s” he corrected quickly then added. “and you’re not going to get caught, all of the girls will be at Mass”

  “He does have a bit of a point,” said Frank’s friend Henry.

  He and the others had been pretty quiet on the whole thing.

  Henry was an ok guy. They were all pretty ok actually, save Frank of course. At least they were when they weren’t together but you know how it is. When guys get together they seemed to be their worse selves. It was like that with my brothers, especially when they got together with their friends.

  “A hundred then” snapped Frank.

  I shook my head. “Make it two hundred and I want it all up front”

  Frank clenched both his fists, the other hand having left my shoulder after his little anger spurt a few minutes ago.

  “I think that’s fair,” said Henry, getting a glare from Frank.

  “Half now,” said Frank “and half on delivery”

  I held out my hand, palm up.

  Frank pulled out a wad of cash, held together by one of those fancy clips.

  Two crisp fifties were slapped into my palm a second later.

  A second after that, I was also holding the hanger with the uniform on it.

  The Common Room was all but deserted save the five of us but I wasn’t going to get dressed here. I made my excuses and rushed off to my room, cursing the whole time.

  The things I get myself into all because I can’t budget my cash properly.

  **************

  “You gotta be kidding”

  Everything was laid out on my bed and I couldn’t help but groan. Thankfully my father managed to get me a single room this year or else I would have a lot of explaining to do. I would have had a lot of it anyway. There was a reason I was so short and why puberty was hiding from me. There was only one way to get a single at St. Andrew’s and that was for medical reasons. Anyone who saw me without any clothes could see my medical reason or lack thereof.

  It happened over four years ago.

  The accident.

  Mom and I were alone in the car. I’m a bit of a sci-fi geek, I’m sure you gathered as much what with reading Marco Riley. I guess you could say I used to be more than a bit. Every year mom and I used to take the car a few towns over to this big sci-fi convention. We usually got a hotel room, stayed a few days but not that year. Mom had a big meeting the next day and wanted to cancel. I begged and pleaded with her to take me. In the end, she relented but told me we would have a long drive home that night. I was so happy to go that it never really occurred me what that meant. I was only eight at the time after all.

  I never did read the official police report but no one was blamed.

  Both Mom and the trucker were tired.

  It was, unfortunately, the trucker who fell asleep at the wheel. Our car flipped over a total of four times. Fortunately, for me, I only remember the first impact. According to the doctors, I more than likely lost consciousness after the first flip. The next thing I remembered was waking up in the hospital a week or so later. Both my legs were broken, my shoulder was dislocated and I had been in a coma they weren’t sure I would wake from. Thankfully there was no internal bleeding. I was lucky to be alive they told me.

  Mom was not.

  After the fourth flip, the car slammed sideways into the guardrail. It crushed the passenger side door into me. They had to get me out with the Jaws of Life. After several very extensive surgeries, my testicles ultimately had to be removed, they were barely able to save my penis. I was in the hospital for over a month, in a wheelchair for another month after that and crutches that followed. After grieving everything, I went into counseling. All my options were discussed. I saw a battery of doctors, medical and psychological. I even saw one who discussed hormone options with me.

  It was eventually confirmed my body would never truly be male.

  Sure with hormone treatment, I might start to develop a male physique but my voice would always be high and my bone structure very small. I would probably get taller but I’d never get any facial hair either. I would never have any sex drive either. At least not a normal one. I didn’t really think about it, what the doctors said I mean. Not until this summer. Eleven and twelve are usually around the time that girls started to hit puberty. I know I said puberty was a stranger to me but that’s not exactly true. The Puberty I wanted was a stranger.

  I was currently standing in front of the mirror in my room.

  It was one of those tall dressing mirrors. You know the kind. “Mirror, mirror on the wall”, that type of thing. It wasn’t as fancy as all that though but every room here had them. I don’t think most guys even bothered with them. In fact, I knew a lot of them that got permission to have them removed. It didn’t really bother me, either way, to be honest. A mirror is a mirror after all. I said it “didn’t” bother me, at least not last year anyway. What I saw now in the mirror---what was starting to happen---it bothered me a great deal.

  A banging on the door interrupted my “vanity”

  “Dude, c’mon, we don’t have all day!”

  Frank. Ever the impatient one.

  “Give me a minute!” I shouted back.

  I mean it’s not every day that a guy puts on girls clothes. Ok so maybe it is with some guys. I knew some actually. After the accident, I ended up going to a lot of different support groups. My father was the kind of man who liked to explore every option available. Some of the groups I went to were for people like me, either those unfortunate enough to lose their man parts do to an accident or other means. Normal everyday guys. I was usually the youngest there. Then there were other groups. More than one were for guys who either wanted to be girls or who had no choice in the matter. The people in those groups were of all ages. Many of my doctors thought it might be a good idea---for my mental health---if I listened to what some of them had to say.

  Gender is a funny thing.

  I was raised to be very open minded about thi
ngs. My father was a Civil Rights attorney after all. Mom was a community manager I guess they called it. She used to work with a lot of non-profit organizations, help them manage their time and things like that. Many of those groups were in the LGBT community. My little sister, Kelly, and I spent a lot of time flitting from one rally to another with her. So long before my support groups, I knew the community well.

  So I don’t have a problem with boys wanting to be girls or girls wanting to be boys.

  The whole concept of being a girl or boy didn’t mean much to me either.

  I had two older brothers---Mike and Charlie---we did what might be considered “boy” things together. Play video games, shoot hoops, work on the car. That kind of thing. But they never ever excluded Kelly from those activities. I did things with Kelly too. She was only two years younger after all. Whereas I’m a bit of a loner, she was a social butterfly. I don’t really have a lot of friends besides her . So growing up, there was nothing wrong with say playing dolls or house. It was all just a part of my life. Even more so, after Mom died. Dad sorta checked out a bit after that. That’s how I ended up in St. Andrew’s. Dad buried himself in his work and felt we might be better off in an environment with our peers. So all four of us ended here. Charlie was now in his first year of college. Mike was a Junior, Kelly was in seventh grade now.

  The banging came again, louder.

  Turning back to the mirror, I looked at what I had to work with.

  It was already starting to happen.

  There was no breast growth as of yet but I could see the fat starting to form there. I still looked mostly like a boy of course but my skin was already starting to feel different, my hair was softer and there was a definite curve to my hips beginning. I could already start to feel the itch in my chest region too. I knew all the signs, of course, I knew what was going to happen. I also knew what I should be doing. I say should be but I wasn’t sure if it was what I wanted. Even before the accident, I never really felt like a boy. I didn’t feel like a girl either for that matter to be honest.