He Wasn't Even A Boy! - Chapter 13

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Disclaimer: All characters depicted in this story are 18 years of age or older at the time of the events described. This work is intended for a mature audience and complies with all applicable content guidelines regarding age-appropriate material. It is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only. The content is not meant to promote or endorse any real-life actions. Reader discretion is advised. Enjoy responsibly within the context of fantasy.

Note - This story is a work of fiction. All characters, names, and events are purely imaginary and bear no relation to real people, living or dead. Any resemblance is purely coincidental.

Although the boys' performance does not count for the girls' team, and vice-versa, there's a tremendous camaraderie between both genders. We train side by side, ride the same bus, and wear similar (though obviously not identical!) uniforms. In a way that's unique among high school sports, track bonds boys and girls together. Field hockey, football, and so forth aren't the same. So Becky and I cheered wildly for the guys as well as the girls.

I wandered over to the throwing ring, where Mark Williams was methodically destroying the discus competition as always. As a two-time defending section champion, he was nearly invincible.

In between tosses, I offered him encouragement (not that he needed it). He did the same for me. I also connected briefly with Hal, who was preparing for the two-mile.

I was still a little nervous around him, particularly since I found myself enjoying watching him stretch. The boys' mile finished an Oxton runner won in a time of 4:29. I watched wistfully, knowing last week I could have beaten him by 30 seconds. I realized, sadly, how much I had lost.

Then it was our turn. The first call for the girls' mile was announced. Becky and I stripped off our sweats.

God, I felt so exposed in the racing briefs! Every eye seemed to turn to me, even though I knew I looked perfectly normal for a girl. Despite that, I felt like I was walking around in my panties. And to think I'd considered a skirt risqué! Our smooth crotches were tightly outlined by our snug uniforms.

It was uncanny to see my body appear so similar to Becky's in the feminine outfit as I nervously approached the line. Coach Bradford gave Becky and me some last-minute tips. Oxton had an excellent girl miler, Melody McCarthy. She was one of the fastest girls in the state, and Becky had never beaten her. We took our place with the rest; a total of six runners were competing today.

My race strategy was simple: run hard, put in a good-faith effort, go through the motions. Let's face it, I wasn't really motivated for this. Once I was done, I'd head back to the locker room and take off these silly (albeit sexy) running shorts for the last time. The gun went off,

And it was like a switch flipping in my head. Suddenly, I was no longer a 'girl' miler. I didn't care about the breasts bouncing on my chest or the ultra-cute uniform or the fact that I was racing against females. Instead, just like when I was a boy, all I cared about was the competition.

I was an athlete, running against other athletes. Nothing else mattered. I simply wanted to WIN! Melody took the early lead, while I hung a stride back.

I was still uncertain about the pace I should set. I ignored the times called out by Coach Bradford as we finished the first lap. I had no standard from previous races to match. I just focused on the girl in front of me.

She was a strong runner, and she surged ahead several times, trying to shake me, but I hung on, getting more comfortable as we moved deeper into the race. Mid-race surges are a common strategy for good distance athletes; they can wreak psychological havoc on the competition.

And that's what distance running is all about. Speed is crucial, yes, but races are often won by tactics, by choosing the right moment to convince your opponent you're stronger than he, or she is - that you've mastered your pain.

Once a competitor believes that, she's finished. Melody saw I wasn't going anywhere, so she just maintained her swift pace, while I continued to draft off of her. I knew she was a little confused; she'd dominated our local athletic district for years. As a senior, her only real competition came at the state level.

She was probably expecting an easy time of it. Not today, sister! Becky and the rest had fallen well back as we began the bell lap. Melody had a cute butt (she was wearing the same style shorts I was), but I was getting tired of looking at it. She tried to accelerate further, but she had no higher gear to shift to.

I did, though. On the backstretch, I blasted past her with a surge of my own, quickly moving ahead and cutting to the rail at the first legal opportunity. She never knew what hit her as she faded behind me.

I felt very strong as I kicked all the way down the homestretch to break the tape. The crowd cheered and whistled their appreciation. I'd just won the race! I felt all the same elation and satisfaction I had as a boy. No difference. And that fascinated me.

There was no sense of male distaste at a hollow victory, beating a bunch of girls. It was a race, and I'd won it, fair and square. Cool!

I turned and cheered the remaining runners as they crossed the line. Becky finished third, and I quickly went over to her. She was still gasping as the Coach passed on her time: 5:08, her fastest mile ever. He was about to tell me my time when I was literally swept off my feet by Hal, who hugged me tightly. He'd never done that when I was a guy! I felt a tingly sensation all over as my breasts plumped against his chest. Whether I was ready or not, my body was clearly enjoying the close contact with a male. Reflexively, I held him tightly.

Then - not so reflexively - I kept on holding him. Nice. A bit embarrassed, we broke contact as Melody came up to me. I shook hands with her as she congratulated me. "Who are you?" the tall brunette asked. "Stephanie. Stephanie Lind." "Are you related to Jack? I didn't see him here today."

"Actually, I am, was Jack. GB." A look of astonishment appeared on her face. "You mean, you're a boy?" "Not anymore," I replied, gesturing at my breasts. The tight racing briefs also demonstrated my gender in an obvious way. "But, but," Melody paused. "But what?" I prompted. "But, it's not fair. You ran in the girls' race!" "So?" I said, growing a bit exasperated. "I AM a girl!" "Well, yeah, I guess," she acknowledged reluctantly. "Look, Melody, should we head over to the locker room so I can prove it to you?" 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 around." 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 did 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 1970s. 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 several 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 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 girls' 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, and 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 growing up. We hardly got phone calls, let alone child support. To be honest, I was never all that upset about it. If that's the kind of man he was, then I didn't need him in my life. Mom continued.

"My biggest mistake was not finishing my degree and having a professional career to build on. I've made a little progress at the office, but I'm basically a glorified assistant.

No matter how competent you are, no one takes you seriously unless you can check the right blocks on the proverbial forms. So I don't make a lot of money," "I've never complained about that, Mom. I know how hard you work." "But it does limit things nonetheless.

We've never taken a vacation. Your college fund will scarcely cover your textbooks. The new wardrobe I bought you was the biggest splurge we've done in years."

"Mom, I can cut back. Forget the fancy lingerie - 'Jockey for Girls' will do just fine." She smiled. "No, Stephanie, I can't begin to tell you how thrilled I am that you are starting to enjoy being a young woman.

I want to indulge your femininity; it's good for both of us. You'll understand if you ever have a daughter someday." I pondered that while she continued. If I did have a daughter, I'd be the one giving birth to her!

"But what I'm saying, Stephanie, is that everyone needs to be able to stand on their own feet. That means a good education, which means a good college, which means good grades. Every parent wants their child to learn from their experience, not to repeat bad patterns. So that's why I always harped on school and so forth. And now that you're female,"

"Why should that matter?"

"Stephanie, as I said, watching you turn into such a lovely girl has been almost a dream come true for me. No, that doesn't mean I wished it upon you; I know you're struggling with all this in ways I'll never understand. I'd change you back into Jack in an instant, if that was what you wanted."

Amazingly, I wondered for a moment if it really was.

"Nevertheless, I'm so excited about the new life you have, and about the woman you're going to be. But you're more vulnerable, too." "Yeah, I know, rape and all that."

"Not just physically, Stephanie. There's another danger. It's all too easy for a woman to submerge her identity with a man. To support him at the cost of. To sacrifice for him and to lose her future in the doing. Even in the 21st century, society still implies that role for women.

Especially in a rural town like this. Now that you're a girl too, you could get caught in that same trap." "Do you feel trapped because of me, Mom?"

"Good heavens, no! I wouldn't have missed having you for the world. I just wish I'd had more options, I wish I hadn't given up all my choices. We could have had a much better time of it," I thought about what she said.

Though she'd never admit it, I could tell she regretted how her life turned out, and I was a big part of that. I didn't doubt her love for me, but I could see she was unhappy in other ways. And what would happen when I did leave for college? What would be left for her?

No husband, a dead-end job, and an empty bedroom where her son, daughter used to live. I felt a surge of emotion for her, and I got up to give her a huge hug.

"Mom, I love you so much. Never think I don't appreciate everything you've done for me. You will always be the this sounds so maudlin, but you will always be the guiding light of my life."