Date: Sat, 01 Apr 2023 21:44:01 +0000
From: ChristyDancer <Christydancer@proton.me>
Subject: Christy's Diary - Chapter 17

Saturday, September 28


Note to self:  written Sunday morning


OMG!  Today was the school dance!  I woke up in my regularly scheduled
panic, because even though I'd been `out' as a girl a school for a
couple of days, and apparently everyone was treating my coming out as a
non-event, the dance was completely different.  Everyone was dressing to
impress.  I had a really perfect dress Brie had gifted me and matching
shoes, but needed a purse and plans for makeup and damn my hair looked
like shit.  Plus, I'd been basically ignoring my nails, growing them out
but coating with clear strengthener rather than actual polish.  I was
still stuck with ear studs, and the high-collar dress didn't really lend
itself to much jewelry, but still, I needed SOMETHING.


I grabbed my robe and headed down to the kitchen for breakfast.  Aunt
Lilly was over (had she spent the night?) and she and Mom were deep in
conversation.  Aunt Lilly was the first to notice me coming in the
room.  "Christy!  How's our little girl doing today?"


"Not a little girl, Aunt Lilly, and a nervous wreck, if you must
know.  Do we have coffee?"


Mom pointed to the pot, and I grabbed a cup from the rack.  Mom spoke
first.  "Dance tonite?"


"Yes, mother," my go-to response when I really didn't want to talk
about something.


"May I make a suggestion?"


"And I could stop you... how?"


Mom just laughed.  "Let's go to the salon today.  Let them do something
with your hair and nails.  Do you need anything else to accessorize?"


I thought for a minute, and realized I was playing the bitch card.  "I
probably need a purse to match my shoes and dress.  And yes, I need
something done with my nails.  My biggest fear right now is falling on my
ass.  I haven't had nearly enough time to practice walking in heels, and
I'm afraid these are going to kill me."


Mom and Lilly both just smiled.  "You will definitely NOT be the only
high school girl there struggling with high heels.  That's a right of
passage.  Practice a little bit this morning, then set them aside.  By
the way,  it's starting to turn cool outside.  Are you planning to wear
hose?"


"Mom, I am a complete newbie to this.  What would you suggest?"


Mom and Lilly started talking over the top of one another and it was hard
to keep track of who was saying what.


"You'll need pantyhose."


"and a small cute sweater."


"White"


"Yes, white, definitely, and just a shortie sweater to match the cut of
the dress."


"And the neckline is too high for a necklace, so you'll need a
bracelet."


Through all of that, I vaguely heard something about going to a
spa.  "Hair?  Nails?"


"Well, yes," Mom clarified.  "Lilly has a great place she recommends,
and.... Let's see, what time does the dance start tonite?"


"Six".


"OK, let's plan to go out about noon.  We can start by shopping for a
little purse, and get you some nude hose, and maybe a nice bracelet to go
on your right arm, and then let's make an appointment about 2pm.  That
way, you can be back here, and shower, do your makeup, and be ready by
6pm.  Sound like a plan?"


I just nodded.  What I was hearing -- and I kinda already knew this --
was that going out as a girl was considerably more complicated than going
out as a boy.


After breakfast (I'm trying to remember what I ate), I went up to my
bedroom and practiced walking in the heels that matched my dress.  I'd
already practice in the wedge heels, so my legs were accustomed to the
angle, but the stiletto heel took a bit more balancing.  After about a
hundred trips across my room and back, I thought I might have it down
pat.  I then tried to climb down our main staircase, and figured out
pretty quickly I'd have to do that on the balls of my feet.  I turned to
climb back up, and ditto.


By that point, I was glad I probably wouldn't be actually `dancing' at
this dance.  More, I'd make an appearance, grab some punch, stand in the
corner, and marvel at how beautiful everyone else looked.  For now, that
sounded like a plan.  A good plan.  Maybe, if I was lucky, I could sit.


 Noon came quickly enough.  I grabbed some pink workout shorts and a crop
t-shirt emblazoned, for no particular reason, with Babar the elephant.  I
was in such a rush, I nearly forgot to switch the silicon gel inserts
from the bra I'd worn to school Friday (actually a lace bralette) to the
simpler t-shirt bra I was going to wear to go shopping.  I slapped on
some lipstick, and ran out the door.


Mom was waiting in the car.  "My, don't you look lovely," she said,
with her most sarcastic voice.


"Hey, I'm a total beginner at this.  Call me when I'm in my 20's."


Mom just smiled and shook her head.  I realized how lucky I was to have
her, but there was no way I was going to say that.


Yeah, one day I'll regret that.


We drove to a different mall than we usually shopped at.  This one,
apparently, had the spa that Aunt Lilly recommended.  We started by
shopping at a couple of random department stores, and couldn't find a
purse that exactly matted the shade of my shoes. However, we found a
really nice bejeweled purse with a strap that would go well, and I
figured 9th grade girls weren't' going to be held to absolute red
carpet standards, anyway.  Then we went to a little teen boutique that
sorta looked like an off-brand Claires, and I found a nice bracelet that
kinda matched my ear studs and watch.


Finally, it was about 2pm, and we headed to the spa, which was really
just an overblown hair and nail salon.  They checked me in, and the first
step was picking out nail polish.  I showed them my favorite lipgloss
from my purse, which I was going to wear that night, and the woman behind
the counter suggested something just a little bit darker for me.  Mom
nodded, so I agreed to the new lip gloss and matching nail polish.


Then, they took me in back for a shampoo.  I told them I didn't want my
hair any shorter, and the woman nodded (an Asian woman, and for the life
of me I never quite got her name straight) but said that they'd just
touch up what I had and blow it out.  I accepted their professional
judgement, even though I wasn't sure too much about it.


Then they wrapped my hair in towels, and led me to this big chair with a
warm foot bath.  I explained that I'd be wearing closed-toe shoes, but
Mom said, "don't complain, you're in for the whole treatment, and
anyway, it will make you feel wonderful."


The next fifteen or twenty or thirty minutes (I loved it, and lost track)
were delightful.  I wanted to be rich enough to do this every week.  A
woman cleaned and massaged and scrubbed and de-calloused my feet, and put
them in a warm massaging bath.  Then she dried my feet, and carefully
worked out my cuticles and cut my toenails.  I was listening to music in
my earbuds and halfway asleep, enjoying the attention.  Before long, she
said get up, and I had wonderfully manicured and painted toenails.


Then she led me over to another desk, where she did much the same
treatment to my fingers.  I'd been growing out my fingernails for a few
weeks, but with her cuticle treatment, my nails actually looked LONGER
than when I'd walked in.  She then painted those, and then led me over
to the hair chair.  By this point, my hair was almost dry, and the
stylist began to blow it out.


"Your hair looks pretty good.  I'm going to snip a bit, just to take
care of a few loose ends, but I promise it won't look any shorter when
I'm done.  In fact, it will have more volume and look longer."


Sure enough, in about 30 minutes, when she spun me around, I hardly
recognized the girl in the mirror.  She'd taken the old `sometimes boy
sometimes girl' cut and made it into a decidedly girlish do.  I really
thought I was going to cry.


As we checked out, the woman behind the counter suggested some eye shadow
to correspond with my new nail and lip color, and Mom quickly agreed.


On the ride home, I couldn't quit looking at my hair in the vanity
mirror.  It was absolutely wonderful.  "How am I supposed to keep this
look and take a shower?"


Mom said, "I'll give you a shower cap and you can get cleaned up as
soon as we get home.  Then we'll work on your makeup and re-blow your
hair.  You'll be ready by six."


I sighed.  I'd been in full-tilt girl mode for a couple of weeks now,
but this was the first time I'd come to grips with feeling `glamorous'
girl.  I know I'm only 14, and not nearly ready for `glamor'.  Then
again, there are girls my age who are runway models.


Everything else passed in a daze.


I showered.


Mom helped me with my makeup.


Mom showed me how to blow out my hair.


I dressed.  I packed my purse.  I practiced walking in heels one more
time.


I threw up.


I looked at myself in the full-length mirror, and I liked what I
saw.  The dress fit me snug, but not too snug.  The hem was about eight
inches above my knee, and the nude pantyhose were so very nude that you
could barely tell I was wearing them.  None the less, and this was my
very first time wearing pantyhose, they felt wonderful.  They were warm
but not too warm, and really changed the feel of my legs.  I was becoming
addicted to the idea of wearing pantyhose.  Underneath, I had the
strapless bra, with padding and the two-way wardrobe tape, and the thong
that Martha had provided with the little plastic insert that made my
crotch, for all the world, look like I had a camel toe.  Of course, no
one was going to see that, but it gave me a whole lot of confidence just
in case.


Then, at 5:45, we left for school. Mom said she'd pick me up at 8,
unless I called with some other time.  I had an uncontrollable urge to
pee.


The party was in the gym, so Mom dropped me off and I had to climb a
couple of outside staircases and walk across the `quad' (again, why do
they call it that?).  I could hear the DJ, who was already playing, and
took a deep breath.  Thank goodness, everything was kinda dark inside,
and I wasn't going to have to run too much of a gauntlet.


I showed my student ID, and Mr. Petrie was at the door.  He commented,
"Christy, I would hardly have recognized you.  We need to get you a new
student ID picture."  Yeah.  That's my BIGGEST FUCKING PROBLEM right
now.


"Thank you, Mr. Petrie."


"Your friends are over there," and he pointed to the corner of the gym
nearest the girls locker room entrance."


"Thank you, sir.  I'll head over there."


The sister wives basically looked like slut city.  I absolutely wonder
how they get out of their houses dressed like that.  Budding little
bosoms were on display, and Maddy was clearly just wearing a corset and a
miniskirt.  I was wondering if a local strip joint was having
tryouts.  Emma--Brunette was hanging all over Eric, clearly planing to
breed later tonite, and everyone said hi, including Eric.


Eric uncoupled from Emma, leaving her to re-arrange her boobs, and said,
"Christy, you look phenomenal.  Seriously.  I've got someone I want you
to meet.  Hang on for a minute."


With that he walked away, and I turned to the sister wives.  Brie was the
next to speak, "Yep, sister, you look great.  You're doing that dress
more than I did, you know.  If you weren't my best friend, I'd be
hitting on you.  Maddy and Emma-red joined in, and it was compliment-city
for a couple of minutes.


Just then, Eric came up to the crowd with a guy I swear I'd seen at
drama club.  "Christy, this is Carlos.  I told him about you, and he was
anxious to meet you."


The sister wives all let out a collective `woooo', that Eric, Carlos,
and I all tried to ignore.


Carlos spoke first, "Christy, I saw you in drama club yesterday, and
meant to say hi."  Yeah... that's where I knew him from.


"You're in the play, right?"


"Yeah.  I'm Bassanio, so Eric and I are reading a lot of lines
together."


"So, you're like a sophomore?


"Junior."


"Huh... ahhh... you know..."


"Yeah.  I'm cool with that."


Eric spoke up, "I told you how I was like the only straight guy in
drama? Well, Carlos here defies all the rules.  He pitches for a
different team every day, and it all depends on his mood when he wakes up
in the morning."


Carlos laughed, a very sexy, creative laugh.  "That may not be the best
way to put it, but lemme just say that I'm very cool with what you're
going thru."


I was suddenly relaxing a whole lot.  "But, like, it's a small school,
and, well, you aren't worried about...."


"I could give a shit.  It's my super power."


Wow.  I do mean wow.  Here was a reasonably handsome, somewhat charming
guy, who wanted to talk to me, Christy, the resident trans-girl, and
could give a shit who knew.  "Wow... well, I mean, I don't want to sound
like a total geek, but this is all really, really new to me.


Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Brie, Maddy, and Emma-red all
staring with their mouths open.  Emma-brunette just seemed to be mildly
pissed that my social life was interfering with hers.


Finally, Carlos said, "I'm gonna go get a drink.  Want something?"


"Yeah, like whatever.  Diet Coke.  Something like that."


"Gotcha, be back in a minute."


Eric went over and kissed Emma-B on the cheek, and whispered something to
her.  He headed after Carlos to get drinks.


Brie and Maddy attacked me all at once.  Brie went first.  "Shit,
girl.  I mean, I've been a `girl' for almost 15 years and never been
hit on by a guy like Carlos.  You've been a girl for what, two weeks,
and here you are with a record setting love life already?"


"It's not a `love life', sister Brie.  The guy is obviously addled in
some way,  perhaps mad and perhaps a threat to society.  I'll try to
keep him distracted until the authorities arrive, that's all."


Carlos came over with a Diet Coke (No roofie.  Go figure.) and we chatted
about the play and school and how I was fitting in and he was amazingly
charming and I totally wondered if I was being put up to this.


I forgot to sit.  I didn't notice my shoes were supposed to be killing
me.  I simply didn't notice.


Carlos asked me to dance.  That was an eventuality I'd not thought
about.  Even as a boy-child, I had very little practice dancing.  Dancing
was simply something 8th grade boys didn't do, and now I was a 9th grade
girl, and totally out of water, but I followed him onto the dance floor
and tried to copy what everyone else was doing.  I didn't fall down,
which I considered to be Nobel-prize--worthy.  Then there was a slow
song.  I had absolutely no idea where to put my hands and arms, but he
just smiled and said, `follow my lead'.  He took my hands and showed me
where to put them (on his shoulders) and put his arms around my waist,
and pulled me in close.  He was about a half-head taller than me, and
before I knew it, I was laying my head on his shoulder.


I was hoping to die right then and there.


When the dance was over, I remembered I'd had to pee for like an hour
now, and  headed to the girls locker room.  Brie, Maddy, and Emma-R all
followed me.  Maddy went first, "You know he's gay, right?  Or at least
something bi-sexual, which I absolutely do not understand.  Right?"


I said, while searching for an empty stall, "You realize I'm a pre-op
transexual, right?"


That kinda stopped Maddy in her tracks.  "I hadn't really thought of
that.  You really look too much like a girl.  I'm gonna hafta think that
thru," and she walked off, with a look on her face like she couldn't
quite figure out a plumbing problem.


Brie was just cackling.  "Girl, you're scoring left, right, and
sideways.  This guy is hitting on you big time."


I said, "Yeah, but why me?  He's good looking, he's charming, and
he's not a half-bad dancer.  Why me?"


Brie said, "Well, first, sister, maybe you're setting your standards a
wee bit too high?" And then she laughed at an inside joke I simply
didn't get.  "Look at it from the outside.  He's bisexual.  He's
pretty open about that.  But, most girls want to date a straight guy, and
most gay guys want to hook up with another totally gay guy.  Being `bi'
may look good in theory, but not so much in practice.  You, on the other
hand, check all the boxes.  I'm surprised he hasn't dragged you out to
the parking lot yet to explore what's in your panties."


"Yech.  Quit that.  Seriously."


"C'mon.  Tell me you haven't had some amorous thoughts out there on
the dance floor."


"Ok, yeah, he's hot, and yeah, I could see him again, but he's what,
16?  Has he even `done it' yet?"


"Rumor has it, yes.  Casual observation suggests you're next."


"Wait, what time is it?"


"7:30.  You've got a watch, Christy."


"Yeah, I'm kinda totally confused.  Lemme go pee, and call my Mom."


I sat in the stall and fumbled for my cell phone.  "Mom?"


"Yes, Christy, ready for me to come get you?"


"No, actually just the opposite.  Is it OK if I stay a while longer?"


"Sure.  Lilly is over here, and we're just watching TV.  Call whenever
you're ready.  When does the dance end?"


"Ahhh... I dunno.  Maybe like 11?"


"OK.  If I don't hear from you I'll pick you up at 11."


"Thanks."


I found that pulling up a thong and rearranging pantyhose wasn't as
simple as I'd thought.  I finally rearranged everything, checked myself
in the mirror, and headed back out for the dance floor.  Carlos was
there, and said, "I was worried you'd left.  Is everything OK?"


"No, I just needed to freshen up.  I'm great."


"Want to dance some more?"


"I'd like nothing better."


We danced for the rest of the night.  Something like 5 hours from 6pm
until 11.  He even offered me a ride home, but I told him my Mom was
picking me up.  He walked me out to the parking lot, and about half--way
there, he turned me toward him and pulled close.  "Christy, I've had a
really great time.  You're more girl than you realize.  The girl I saw
on the sofa in drama club yesterday was a shy little kitten.  Tonite,
you're staring to come out of your shell.  Keep it up.  It's great."


I tried to respond, but he pulled me into himself and before I knew it, I
was kissing him.  Not just a peck on the cheek, but a slow, warm, long
kiss like out of the movies.  He put his hand on the back of my head, and
ran his fingers thru my hair.   I touched his hair, and ran my
fingernails across his cheek.  He pulled back, and said, "Good nite.
I'll see you Monday," and then turned and walked away.


I was in a stupor, and as I turned to walk to the parking lot, I saw Brie
standing there.  She said, "Ahhh... our little girl grows up."


"Brie..."


"Don't say a word.  If I was you, and if I was attracted to guys, I'd
be in a stupor right now."


And she was right.


The ride home was uneventful.  Mom asked me if I had a good time, and I
told her I did, and smiled, and sighed.


When we got home, Aunt Lilly was there.  Mom said, "I hope you don't
mind, but Lilly's going to spend the night."


I just nodded and said `hi' to her.  Then I said, "I'm tired, I'm
headed off to bed, unless you need anything from me."


Mom said, "No, that's fine.  I'll expect a full report tomorrow,
though."


I nodded, and headed upstairs to my room.  I hung up my dress, pulled off
my undies, and pulled on a pair of comfie panties and a t-shirt for
sleep. I went to the bathroom to remove my makeup and brush my teeth.
While brushing my teeth, I couldn't help but think about Carlos kissing
my mouth.  It sent me off into a daze.


I fumbled thru my undies drawer for the new `penis' I'd bought at
Martha's.  I arranged the pillow just so, and climbed on top of it.


Except this time, I imagined it was Carlos I was 69'ing....


Sigh....