After I hung up, Dad asked me if I wanted to stop to eat on the way home. I said yes.

We picked up my pain medicine at the pharmacy, and I took a dose right away; then we went to the Steak and Shake for supper. After we placed our orders, I called Latisha and Will back and told them what the doctor had said. Dad and I didn't talk much more until after we'd eaten most of our food.

"Have you thought any more about what you want to do?" he said. "I mean, about the bathrooms and showers at school... If the school administration wants you to use the girls' rooms -- the nurse could be exceeding her authority, so maybe nothing will come of that, but if it does, you know your mother and I will back you up if you want to fight it."

"Thanks," I said. "I don't know yet. It would be creepy and embarrassing either way. It might depend on how the guys, and the girls, in my P.E. class treat me when I see them again... but that might depend on which of them I'm changing with before class."

"Have you --" he started to say, and then, looking around: "Let's talk more later."

In the car on the way home, he said: "Jeffrey... have you felt any sexual attraction since your change? For anybody, of either sex?"

I felt hot, and suspected I was probably blushing bright red enough to stop traffic. "No," I said. "Not really. I still have a, I guess you'd call it a sense of beauty. I can tell pretty from ugly, and beautiful from pretty. But it's not any more acute, or more visceral, looking at people than at animals or trees or abstract art."

"Well," he said, "think about how that affects your decision. I think you would be justified either way."

"I guess."

When we got home, I went to my room and did homework and school reading until I was too tired to focus on it. I kept my IM client open, but nobody I knew well came online. I went to bed, lying on my stomach because of all the bruises on my back, and fell asleep pretty early, before Mom came home from work.

When I got up, Mom was already up, cooking whole-wheat pancakes. She'd been experimenting and talking to other centaurs at work and at church about stuff they could eat, and had figured out a recipe that tasted a little weird at first, but was tasty enough to suit me as well, at least with a lot of butter and syrup.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Pretty okay," I said, "just sore."

"You can take some of the pain medicine if you want. No more dizziness?"

"Yeah, I guess I will. No, I haven't been dizzy since we left the hospital."

"Good. I'll make an appointment for you Monday with Dr. Borenstein. We should have done that sooner, really, as soon as you came home from Athens..."

Oh, no. Well, I guess it had to be done eventually.

"All right," I said. "Where's Dad?" I got out plates and silverware.

"He's running some errands," she said. "He should be back in an hour or two."

We sat down to eat, and once we'd taken the edge off our hunger, she said: "Your father told me what the nurse said. About --"

"She wants me to use the girls' locker room and bathrooms. Yeah. Dad said not to worry about it until somebody with more authority than her says so."

"Not to worry about it, sure, but you should think about it. Do you think you should, now that your secret's out?"

"No. Losing my penis didn't make me a girl."

"But the boys might think of you as a girl... I don't know. We'll support you, whatever you decide."

I frowned. She'd said "the boys," where Dad had said "the other boys." Did that mean she really thought me as a girl now? Or was it just a slip of the tongue? She had been casual enough about me seeing her naked, the first few days when she needed help in the bathroom a lot, as though we were the same sex... I didn't ask her what she meant; I was afraid of what she'd say.

"I've got a lot of homework to finish," I said when I finished eating. I went to my room, but I didn't start working on homework right away. I looked at my IM client. Nobody local I knew was online, but I chatted with a couple of guys I knew from DeviantART for a while, and scanned and uploaded a few of my best recent drawings, before I settled down to read some excruciatingly dull stuff by Ernest Hemingway for American Literature.

I didn't leave the house that day, barely left my room except for meals. I was getting tired easily, my body using a lot of energy to heal from those bruises I guess, and I took a nap after lunch. Dad still wasn't back from his errands when Mom and I ate lunch, and Mom didn't seem very concerned about it. She asked me again if I'd decided about showering with the boys or the girls when I went back to school, and I said I was still thinking about it.

Later that evening Latisha was online, and we chatted for a little while.

obsidian14: feeling any better?

scribbler371: still really sore. no more dizziness thank god.

obsidian14: good. i guess.

scribbler371: did i tell you what the nurse said?

obsidian14: no. didn't you see a doctor too?

scribbler371: yeah, at the hospital. i mean the school nurse, ms. turner. she said i should use the girls' showers and bathrooms.

obsidian14: oh. that's going to be weird. it sort of makes sense, but not really.

scribbler371: i'm glad you think it doesn't make sense. anyway, i'm going to fight it and my parents say they'll back me up.

obsidian14: good luck

scribbler371: hey, what about your brother? does everybody know about him?

obsidian14: yeah... that's weird. he hasn't talked much since we went back to school, he never talks as much as me, but it still seems weird i haven't heard him say anything about p.e.

scribbler371: do you know if they're making him use the girls' showers and bathrooms and stuff?

obsidian14: no. i assumed not, because i thought i would have heard if they had, but i don't really know. i don't see him much at school and he doesn't talk much at home. stays in his room most of the time, the last month or so.

Our school's classrooms were arranged so that junior and seniors generally had their classes at the far end of the building from the freshmen and sophomores.

obsidian14: i'll go ask him

scribbler371: wait. if he hasn't said anything about it he might have a good reason...

But she didn't reply for over fifteen minutes. I'd gone back to doing algebra homework when the IM client plinked again.

obsidian14: they did! he's been showering with the girls and using the girls bathrooms for three weeks and didn't say anything about it! i asked him if he protested and he said no, what would be the point?

scribbler371: man

obsidian14: i told you he'd been depressed, i didn't realize how bad. before the changes he would have fought about that, like you're doing.

scribbler371: what did the girls say about it?

obsidian14: i couldn't get a clear answer out of him. i think they didn't like it at first but they got used to it, or the teachers told them to shut up about it, or something. so many weird things are going on after the changes that a sort-of guy showering with the girls maybe isn't weird enough to fuss about.

scribbler371: well, i'm going to make a fuss about it.

-----

Sunday, we went only to morning church, and only to the worship service, not Sunday School. Several of the kids my age had apparently heard about me from friends at school; I could see them staring at me all through the service, though only a couple of them talked to me after the service while Mom and Dad were chatting with friends.

"Hey," Abraham Mitter said, "I heard some guys at school talking about you -- they were saying weird things, like you changed into a girl on Valentine's Day, and I said no way, I know Jeffrey from church, but --"

"It's not true, but I know why people are saying it," I said. "Did they say anything about me falling and hitting my head?"

"No... what does that have to do with...?"

"I slipped and fell in the shower after P.E. Several guys saw my crotch while I was knocked out for a few seconds, which I'd managed to keep them from seeing since V-Day; I look sort of like a girl, but I'm not really."

"Were you in Athens?" Tom Porter asked. "I thought you said you were in Huntsville..."

"Yeah, I kind of lied about that." Tom nodded understandingly; Abraham looked shocked.

"Why would you lie about it?"

"Dude, think about it. Have you ever lied to keep people from finding out something embarrassing? If not, go ahead and throw stones at me." I turned around and walked over to where Dad was talking to Mr. Barnes.

Mr. Barnes said I should probably take a few days off from helping with the homebound ministry, to recover from my injuries. I said I was already a lot better, but I'd probably better rest after school for two or three days anyway, and maybe I could help out again toward the end of the week.

That afternoon, after lunch, I called Will's house and asked his mom if it suited for me to come over. Mom heard me and asked if I felt recovered enough to go over there; she suggested I invite Will to come see me instead. I felt a lot less sore than I did Saturday, but I humored Mom and did as she suggested.

Will arrived about twenty minutes later. He chatted with my Mom for a minute, and then we went to my room.

"Dude, I'm sorry," he said. "People were talking about you at the Saunders' party -- nobody'd seen you, but it seemed like everybody knew somebody who had."

"Did you tell them about me like I asked?"

"Yeah, some people listened when I told them I knew you and what really happened. But they weren't very interested in hearing about how you just had bruises and no concussion, they wanted to know about your junk. Sorry."

"It was all centaurs, right?"

"Yeah. Keith and Tara wanted to dance, and they didn't want any two-legs around making fun of us while we were figuring out what dance steps work for us now."

"I guess that makes sense." It was logical, but it didn't make me feel any less left out. Of course, as bad as I was hurt, I wouldn't have enjoyed a party much anyway, but still.

He told me about the party, but it was an awkward subject; he asked me again how I was feeling, and I told him the bruises were better and I still hadn't had any more concussion symptoms. Then we started playing *Labyrinth of Knossos* and were much more comfortable with each other as long as the game lasted.

-----

Monday was as bad as I'd feared, or worse. Dad was sleeping late before going to work in the afternoon; Mom had the day off. She hesitated about letting me go back to school so soon, but I said I felt fine; my bruises were mostly better. That was an exaggeration; it still hurt a little to sit normally -- but I figured the sooner I went back to school, the sooner I could start correcting the rumors about me before they had too much time to spread and mutate.

"I'll call Dr. Borenstein's office to make an appointment as soon as they open," she said just before I went out to catch the bus. "If she can squeeze you in today, I'll call the school and tell them to pull you out of class and I'll come pick you up."

"I'd rather have a whole day at school," I said; "I want to talk to people, tell them I'm not actually a girl whatever they might have heard, stuff like that."

"Don't push yourself too hard. Remember how tired you got Saturday... They'd better excuse you from P.E., but if your regular classes are wearing you out too much, have them call me and I'll pick you up."

"Bye," I said.

As soon as I walked into homeroom, Mrs. Jessup said: "Jeffrey? Are you feeling all right?"

"Lots better," I said. I could feel everybody staring at me.

"Ms. Turner sent me a note saying you might be out sick, but if you did show up, to send you to her clinic first thing."

"I'm really okay," I said, but I went to the clinic. So I didn't have a chance to talk to anybody in homeroom, and I wouldn't see Arnie again that day unless we happened to run into each other in the halls. I hoped he'd contradict any false rumors about me he heard, as I'd asked him to, but I wasn't sure.

The nurse, Ms. Turner, looked surprised to see me.

"Did your father take you to the emergency room Friday afternoon as I recommended?"

"Yeah," I said. "It was like you thought, lots of bruises but no broken bones or concussion. Thanks for taking care of me," I made myself add, though I was starting to dislike her.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," she said. "I can excuse you from P.E. for as long as necessary... do you have any paperwork from the emergency room or your doctor?"

"Um, no. I can ask my mom or dad for it and bring it in tomorrow."

"Thank you. I'll send Coach Renfrew a note -- let's say you'll be out of P.E. through Wednesday at least, and longer if your doctor says you need to."

"Okay. Thanks." I turned to go, hoping I could talk to Arnie and other people in homeroom for a few minutes before first period.

"Wait," she said, "there's something else. In view of your change, I think it's appropriate that you use the girls' locker rooms and showers when you return to P.E., and the girls' bathrooms at other times."

I hesitated, trying to find the most polite way to say "No way in hell," and came up with, "I don't think that would be appropriate, ma'am, and my parents agree."

"Do you have a note from them to that effect?"

"No. I can get one tomorrow if you want."

She pursed her lips, maybe wondering how far to push it. "I've spoken with the principal," she said, "and he agrees with me. There's precedent -- we have another boy, former boy I should say, who was in the same change-region as yourself -- she's a senior, and the principal and her P.E. teacher ruled that she should use the girls' locker rooms and bathrooms."

That was probably Latisha's brother. "That's interesting," I said carefully. "Did the girls put up a fight about having a guy shower with them, or letting him in their bathroom...?"

"Briefly," she said. "The girls in her P.E. class saw the need as soon as she changed clothes in front of them; I spoke with some other girls myself."

"Have you been talking to people about me that way?"

"Only the principal, Coach Renfrew, and your other teachers."

"Good. Because you don't have as many people to apologize to when you go back and tell them *I'm not actually a girl*."

Her eyes widened for a moment, then she bared her teeth, and said: "Come with me." I followed her, reluctantly, to the principal's office.

"Come in," the principal said absently, and looked up at us from the paperwork on his desk. He was a Smyrna wolf, and after seeing my Dad and the wolves at church wearing less and less formal clothes as more time passed since the changes, it was surprising to see him in a suit, though it was probably of a looser cut than the ones he used to wear before he grew fur.

"Nan," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"This is the boy I mentioned to you Friday afternoon. Jeffrey Sergeyev. He's an Athens neuter, but he was keeping the fact concealed until last Friday."

"Hmm," he said. "Yes, we have a couple of other Athens neuters among the student body. One was a girl, so there were no particular issues affecting her interaction with other students, but her older brother..." He turned from us to his computer and tapped several keys, probably switching windows to a student database, I figured.

"Hmm," he said. "Coach Watson and some of the other students in his P.E. class fussed about having him shower with the boys, and we decided he should shower with the girls. And use the girls' bathrooms, too, -- more for consistency than anything else."

"Exactly. I told Jeffrey that was the policy, but she doesn't accept it and says her parents disagree as well."

There she was, not only saying I should use the girls' bathrooms but calling me "she" and "her". Somehow, illogically, that made me madder than anything else.

"Sir," I said, trying to stay calm and respectful, "could you please ask Ms. Turner not to refer to me with female pronouns?"

"Well," he said, "we have to use some pronoun or other. Perhaps one of the English teachers can recommend a good gender-neutral pronoun."

"I still identify as male, sir, although I've lost my male parts. I certainly haven't gained any female parts, so there's no reason to consider me a girl."

"She has a vagina," Ms. Turner put in. "That makes it inappropriate for her to shower with the boys. She urinates sitting down; it makes more sense for her to use the girls' restrooms where there are more toilets."

"A pseudo-vagina, the doctors in Athens say. It's not a vagina because it doesn't connect to a womb, which I don't have, and there are other differences too." I was blushing bright enough as it was without going into details about those differences.

"It's a vulva, anyway," Ms. Turner corrected herself, scowling at being caught in a mistake. "It's the external anatomy that's relevant in this situation; in a case of Complete Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome, for instance, when someone has male genes and female external anatomy, they're always considered female for purposes of using showers and restrooms even though they have no womb or ovaries."

"Yes, exactly," the principal said. "Jeffrey, I'm sorry, but this is school policy and I don't see a good reason to make an exception. If your parents have an issue with it, I welcome a dialogue with them."

"I don't look like a girl at all, except with my pants down," I added desperately. "If I walk into a girls' restroom they'll scream and yell at me to get out, before I have a chance to duck into a stall or explain or anything."

"We had some incidents like that with the other student I mentioned, but they were transitory," he said. "Once the other girls learn your situation, they'll be sympathetic and understanding -- most of them, and the ones that don't will hear from me personally about it. I guarantee that. That is all."

I was so angry and frustrated that I didn't think of asking the principal, or Ms. Turner, for a note to explain why I was late to Algebra. I explained to Ms. Tang after class, and she just nodded. "I had a note from Ms. Turner saying she wanted to examine you before first period, and you might be late to class, if you weren't absent entirely due to your injuries. I'm glad you're well enough to return to school." She didn't say anything about me supposedly being a girl, and I was glad.

Latisha had waited in the hall for me while I was talking to Ms. Tang. I walked with her as far as Ms. Killian's biology class.

"The nurse wanted to see you again before school?" she asked.

"Yeah. Supposedly to examine me, but she didn't actually look at my bruises again -- she just laid down the law about me using the girls' restrooms and showers."

"Sorry. My parents just found out about the school making Lyndon use the girls' showers and bathrooms, and Dad said he should have put up a fight about it, but Lyndon said there's no point now. I guess he might be right, but that doesn't mean you can't fight it."

"I did, and the nurse dragged me into the principal's office and then he told me the same thing. They said Lyndon was a precedent, and also talked about somebody a few years ago, I'm not sure who, with some disease that makes you have a boy's genes and girl's body? Anyway, we argued about it and I lost."

We parted when I got to Biology and Latisha continued on to her second-period American Literature class. I had a minute to talk to Will before class started, but we didn't say much; I didn't have time to tell him about the business with the nurse and the principal. It was hard to concentrate on the lesson, as interesting as Ms. Killian always made it, when I could feel people staring at me and hear them whispering about me. Ms. Killian interrupted and reprimanded a couple of people, but the staring continued.

After class, Ms. Killian asked me to stay for a little while.

"Ms. Turner sent me a note," Ms. Killian said quietly when everyone else had gone. "She said you might be out of school a few days, from your injuries last Friday."

"They weren't as bad as we thought," I said. "I'm still sore, but I can walk around and stuff."

"She also said you were an Athens neuter."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry I lied to you about that. I didn't tell anyone; it wasn't just you."

"How can I trust you? You're doing this project on the Huntsville telepaths, and you lied about your relationship to them --"

"Not in the paper itself, ma'am. I just talk about what the people I interviewed said, and what the scientists studying the telepaths are saying. There's nothing in it about what happened to me."

"Hmm. Tell me about your study group -- how is that going? Latisha is researching the Athens neuters; are you helping her more than just suggesting ideas for research?"

"No, ma'am. I just pointed her to some things to read, and reviewed her list of interview questions, and suggested some people she might interview. She did a lot of the same things for me and Tyrone."

"Well... I'll be looking at both your reports very carefully. I'm disappointed in you, Jeffrey. Don't disappoint me again."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I won't. Is that all?"

"You may go."

The second bell for third period had rung by the time I left, and the halls were mostly deserted as I walked toward study hall. I needed to pee, and nobody was around to care which restroom I used; I did my business the boys' room, maybe for the last time.

At lunch, I got my tray and went to sit in my usual place; Tyrone and Lindsey were there, but not Latisha.

A minute or two later, Latisha came over, dragging her brother Lyndon by the hand.

"You two should talk," she said. "I told Lyndon how you're not giving in to them."

"Is it doing any good?" he asked. He and Latisha sat down.

"Not yet," I said. "But my parents said they'd support me -- I'll bring a note from them tomorrow, and one of them will probably go talk to the principal when they've got a day off work."

"Hmm," he said. "Good luck with that."

"Why didn't you fight over it?"

"There didn't seem to be any point. I mean, I knew the girls would act weird about me showering with them, but how was that different from how the guys were treating me?"

"Um. I don't know. I kept it secret until last Friday, from everyone but a couple of friends. And since it got out... I haven't seen most of the guys I have P.E. with. In my other classes, people are just staring at me and whispering about me so far, nobody's made fun of me out loud yet..."

The staring and whispering was going on even now; kids further up and down the table from us seemed to be listening with great interest to our conversation.

"Give it time," he said, and laughed, a sharp cynical bark. "We're not guys anymore, there's no use pretending."

"But we sure aren't girls," I argued.

"No, but everyone's going to treat us as one or the other. Nobody knows what to do with us otherwise. Probably things are different in Hartwell and Athens, but around here they want to put you in the pink box or the blue box, and once they've seen you naked they can't imagine putting you in the the blue box anymore."

He got up and left us. Latisha told me that was the most he'd said in her hearing about it since they went back to school. We talked a little more during lunch, but I was so uncomfortable feeling all the eyes on me and seeing people stare at me that I couldn't concentrate on what she was saying. Keisha and Wanda came by with their trays while Lyndon and I were talking, but they glanced at each other and kept walking, sitting down somewhere else with some other wolf girls. Tyrone and Lindsey didn't talk much; only when we were done, Tyrone said: "Keep your chin up, man," as he got up to take his and Lindsey's trays back to the kitchen, and Lindsey gave me a shy smile.

It was the same for the next couple of classes; people stared at me and whispered, and one or two of them asked me questions about what happened to me, but not many. I told the truth to anybody that asked, but I couldn't work up the nerve to break into people's whispered conversations and tell them they were full of shit.

Between fifth and sixth periods I needed to pee. I decided to press my luck, and went into the boys' room near my American History classroom. I was opening the door of a stall when a Smyrna wolf who'd been standing at one of the urinals zipped up and turned around. It was a sophomore, I think, nobody I knew.

"Hey!" he said, looking at me. I ignored him and started into the stall. He grabbed me by the shoulder, right on one of the bruised places, and I yelped.

"What are you doing in here, cunt?" he said. "I heard about you. You're really a girl."

Another couple of Smyrna wolves, both taller than me, were at the sink; one turned to look at us and the other looked at us in the mirror while he washed his hands.

"No, I'm not," I said. "Let me go."

"So why's a girl coming into the men's room?" he said. "You want some of this...?" He was still holding me by the shoulder; with his other hand he started to undo his zipper.

"Leave him alone, Carl," one of the guys at the sink said. "Long as he does his business in the stall, it don't matter what he's got or don't got."

"'Sides, she's not pretty enough for you, is she?" said the other, fastidiously drying his hands and looking at us in the mirror rather than directly. "All hairless and flat-chested. I heard she's hairless down there, too. Ugh!"

The guy who'd been holding me by the shoulder pushed me away. "Get out," he said, and growled.

Instead of leaving the restroom, I ducked into the stall, slammed the door and locked it. I didn't drop my pants yet, though; I crossed my legs and held it as long as I could, hearing the wolves arguing and laughing, wondering if the big guy would try to climb over or crawl under the wall. The voices finally faded as they left the room, and I could finally relieve my bladder.

I was late to American History; Mr. Meredith might have excused me if I'd said I'd run into some bullies -- I knew he was serious about that kind of thing -- but I'd have had to tell him I'd been in the boys' room against the principal's orders. I decided to keep quiet about it.

I told Will some of it on the bus on the way home; he commiserated with me, but seemed kind of distracted. The jouncing of the bus made my bruises hurt worse, and by the time I got home I was ready to lie down on my stomach for a while. Mom wanted to know how my day went, though.

"The school nurse wants a copy of the paperwork from the hospital," I said, figuring I'd start small. "And I need a note from you or Dad about using the boys' restrooms and showers and stuff."

"I can do that."

"It might also help if you go to the school and talk to the principal. He sounded like he'd made up his mind and wasn't going to pay any attention to a polite note, but he might listen if you threaten to go to the school board with it or something."

"Oh...? Did you talk to him, or just hear what he'd said?"

"The nurse wanted to see me as soon as I got to school. Then she took me to see the principal, and he told me it was school policy for guys like me to use the girls' restrooms and showers, and he wouldn't listen to anything I said, but he said you were welcome to come talk to him."

"Guys like you... Are there other boys at your school who were in Athens that day?"

"One other guy, a senior. I've met him a couple of times, but I don't really know him."

"Do you know if he and his parents objected to this policy?"

"He didn't put up a fight over it, or even tell his parents, apparently, until a couple of days ago."

"Really? How do you know that? I thought you said you didn't know him..."

"I know his sister; she's in my biology study group."

So then Mom wanted to know about Latisha, how well did I know her and when I'd met her -- she could tell she wasn't a casual acquaintance or she wouldn't have told me that about her brother.

"Are you interested in her?" she asked me.

"Well... not like that. We're friends, we're the only Athens neuters in our grade, but she's not, like, my girlfriend. That wouldn't make sense."

"How did she feel when she found out you'd been lying to her?"

"I wasn't -- not for very long. I told her just a few days after school started back."

"Hmm. So she's a closer friend than some of the guys you've known for years, it sounds like -- you didn't tell them until you had to, did you?"

"Just Will." I didn't remind her that Will had already known I was going to spend that weekend in Athens.

"Well, I'm glad you're making new friends in spite of all this trouble. How are other people treating you?"

I told her some about people staring at me and whispering, but I downplayed it, and I didn't say anything about the bullies in the restroom.

"They'll gossip about it for a few days, I expect, and then they'll move on to some other scandal. Be patient. I'll go talk to the principal tomorrow, probably, just before I pick you up for your appointment with Dr. Borenstein."

"When's that?"

"Tomorrow at two."