Tomboy

Continued from Previous Page

Copyright 2010 Rachael Ross all rights reserved
Codes: m/tg, Romance, Oral, Anal, Angst, Etc.

Note: This is a work in progress...I'm kind of into soap operas these days - rr

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Tomboy
by T.S.Severe

Chapter One

 

"Where have you been?" Stephanie wondered. My sister sat on the floor of her bedroom, still unpacking and looking frustrated. That’s why I just left everything in the boxes until I needed it.

"Sight seeing," I replied, stepping around the mess to reach her closet. 

"What are you doing?"

She’d just turned sixteen and aside from being the same age, we were about the same size too. That came in pretty handy and people said we looked a lot alike, but we were different in a lot of ways. Like our taste in clothes, for example.

"I need to borrow a dress," I said, frowning as I looked through her closet. "Did you unpack all your clothes already?"

"Borrow a dress? For what?" Steph pushed herself up with a sigh. "You’ve got a boyfriend already?"

"Yeah!" I giggled over my shoulder at her. "It was easy."

"That's sick." She scowled and I hated that because I loved her a lot. Maybe she was only my step-sister, but Steph was my best friend in the whole world as well. My only friend sometimes.

"What?" I asked, striking a wide-eyed, innocent pose.

"You’ve got a boyfriend in like two days and I don't know anybody!"

"You just gotta go outside and…" I started smiling.

"And you’re not even a girl!" She shook her head, leaning against the wall next to her closet. "How does that work?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, refusing to feel guilty about it. "I just said hi to him."

"Did you tell him you're a boy?" Steph asked and I rolled my eyes. "He's gonna kick your butt, Ash."

"No, he won't." I scrunched up my nose. "He's pretty sweet."

"We aren't in New York any more, in case you haven’t noticed," she said. My sister crossed her arms and stared at me.

“Well…” 

"This is like Rodeoville,” she continued. “They beat people up for being different around here."

"Rodeoville?" I grinned at that. "Nah, he's cool. I mean, you can tell, you know? I'll tell him tonight."

"Mom and Dad figured you'd like snap out of it," Steph sighed. "Like moving to a new place, you know?"

"I know," I said. "There’s nothing to snap out of though. I'm just me. They're used to it anyway."

"Yeah," she agreed. "But that doesn't mean they like it."

"I know." I turned around because I didn't want to talk about that stuff anymore. "Where's that blue dress at? The one with the lace and stuff."

"Right in front of you." Steph laughed, reaching past me to grab the hanger. At least she relaxed a bit; my sister could stress just fine without the joy of unpacking, believe me. 

Thankfully, she couldn't ever stay unhappy for too long either. Steph would get her own boyfriend quickly enough anyway, if she wasn't too shy. She looked about as pretty as me, everybody said so, and I think it bothered her sometimes. Being compared to her brother couldn’t be easy, but even Steph had to agree I was a lot better at being a girl than a boy. That wasn't completely true though. I was best at being a tomboy, kind of a girl with some boy in me, you know? It sounds silly, but it's true.

If I tried to be all boy, I was hopeless. If I tried to be all girl, it just didn't work because I wasn't. But if I was a girl with boy parts, I felt right at home in myself then. It's why I was so good at being a tomboy and like that day, on my motorcycle messing with Butch and his friends, I felt like nobody could hurt me. Like I was bulletproof, you know? I could say anything or do anything and nobody could stop me. Nobody could hurt me or beat me up or call me names. It’s the best feeling in the world.

The tomboy me was the real me. Sometimes I forgot that.

"Hi Daddy!" I came downstairs for dinner wearing my sister's dress. 

I had my own dresses, but none that would really fit in with Rodeoville, as Steph had called it and she was right about that. We were in the sticks compared to New York City, and we were both a little miffed about moving.

"Hey Ashley." Daddy smiled when he saw me, even though I knew he wanted a son. "Wow, look at you! All dressed up."

"Yeah." I smiled happily. "Do I look okay?"

I posed playfully for him, turning around so he could see me. I had a very slight build with narrow hips and slender shoulders. I had small breasts thanks to some pills I got from the doctors, estrogen mostly. My tits were growing though and the female hormones were great for my complexion. I kept telling Steph she should get on birth control or something since every little pimple was like the end of the world for her. She worried that people would think her a slut if she took the pill though. It was always something with her, but our parents probably would have freaked out anyway.

My brown hair was loose now, long and falling in waves around my freshly scrubbed face. I hated brown hair, it seemed totally boring and I wanted to color it raven black. I thought that would be more me, you know? I definitely wasn’t a blonde or a redhead. I’d put on a little make-up, but not too much. The dress was thin, one of those cotton summer dresses that buttoned up the back with a white sash tied around my waist. It had white lace around the short sleeves, neck, and hemline. It looked nice, but kind of old fashioned, I thought. Underneath I wore one of my bras, the soft one, not the hard one, and a pair of plain white panties.

I wouldn’t say I felt uncomfortable in a dress, but it didn’t make me feel anymore feminine than some leather hipsters and a halter top would. Have you ever tried riding a motorcycle in a dress? Still, if I wanted a boyfriend, I’d have to look like a real girlfriend sometimes, like on the first date especially. So I wanted to look…

"Very pretty," Daddy told me and he hid his disappointment pretty well. "What's the occasion?"

"Oh, I’ve got a date," I told him. "I'm going to pick him up at seven."

"I…see…" he blinked at that news. ”That was quick."

"Well, he said hi and I said hi, and next thing you know…" I stuck the tip of my tongue out and giggled. “It’s okay, right? You said I could go out.”

“I thought maybe you and Steph would…”

“She’s still unpacking.” I rolled my eyes. We both knew she my sister wouldn’t stop until she’d finished, probably at 3am or something.

"I bet she is," Daddy chuckled. "You’d better be careful on that bike. Don't hit a cow or something."

"I survived Manhattan, remember?” We shared a grin, but he probably had a point.

"Hey! There you are. Dinner's ready," Mom said, sticking her head out the kitchen doorway. "Ashley, get your sister…Get her, don't yell…"

"Kay Mom,” I replied, letting out the deep breath I’d taken. Steph’s bedroom was right above us, I didn’t see any problem with yelling.

"And why are you all dressed up?" She stared at me.

"She's got a date," Dad said. "With a boy."

"Hmmm…" Mom pursed her lips and she and dad shared a look, but I’d grown used to their concerns a long time ago. I wasn't gonna change.

Sometimes it seemed like they just expected me to wake up one day and be a full-fledged, red-blooded American boy. I’d get a haircut, wear boy clothes, and find a girlfriend to try and knock up. Heck, maybe I’d even grow a mustache and join the football team. Right! I’d started wearing Steph’s clothes when I’d been six years old. By the time I turned ten, I dressed always and everywhere, even going to school as a girl. People wondered and gave my parents all kinds of suggestions, mostly bad ones, but to their credit they decided to let me be me and hope for the best.

I got seriously lucky when fate was handing out parents!

"Does this boy have a name?" Dad asked over dinner.

"His name’s Butch," I said. "He's a senior, like me."

"Butch?" Steph laughed and had to cover her mouth before she made a real mess.

"Stephanie!" Mom frowned at her.

"Sorry." My sister swallowed hard and drank a little water. "You're kidding right? His name isn't really Butch, is it?"

"Yeah," I giggled. "It really is."

"What's wrong with Butch?" Mom wondered and she was like from another planet sometimes. “That’s a nice name.”

"I don't know," Dad said, but he was chuckling softly.

“He looks like a Butch anyway,” I shrugged. “He’s kind of big.”

“He is?” Steph narrowed her eyes. “What’s he look like?”

“I dunno. He looks like a farmboy, I guess,” I told her. “Kinda hot, actually.”

“Hot?” she and Mom said at the same time, but in very different ways. I decided to drink some of my own water.

“Maybe I should talk to this boy,” Dad suggested and I ignored that idea. I mean, Butch didn’t even know I was a boy yet, so it might have been sorta weird for both of them.

"Hey!" I looked at my sister. "He's got a friend named Seth, pretty cute. He's got an old Challenger too."

"An old who?" Steph asked and she could be pretty hopeless with anything outside home economics.

"What year?" Dad asked, being an amateur motorhead. He’d taught me a lot and liked that much about me anyway, except I didn't really apply myself to anything but my Triumph.

"A ’71 it looked like," I shrugged. "Pretty stock too, you'd like it."

"What's he look like?" Steph wondered, picking at her mashed potatoes.

"It's red." I smiled at her.

"Not the car!" She rolled her eyes. "The boy!"

"Oh, Seth? He's cute. Black hair, kinda brown eyes," I said. "He's big too. Another one of those strappin' country boys!"

"Strappin!" Steph laughed and Mom frowned. Daddy gave us a hard look because Steph had just turned sixteen and unlike me, she had her cherry to worry about.

"You wanna go with me?" I asked her. "You can meet Butch, go with us to wherever we're going and maybe meet that Seth guy."

"Seth?" She pursed her lips. "Steph and Seth…That sounds bad."

"Where are you going, by the way?" Dad wondered.

"You pick your boyfriends by how your names sound together?" I laughed at her.

"Well…" She frowned.

"Ashley?" Dad held out his hand, expecting an answer.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "There ain't anything around here anyway except the Dairy Queen."

"Well Stephanie can stay home tonight," Mom decided. My sister frowned, but she was sorta shy anyway, which was her whole problem, I thought.

“I gotta finish unpacking anyway,” she sighed.

"I'll tell him about you," I promised, and then leaned close enough to whisper in her ear. "I bet he's got a big dick too!"

"Oh!" Stephanie gasped and turned like five kinds of red all at once. She looked almost comical and like I said, my little sister was a total virgin.

"What are you two whispering about?" Mom wondered and I just gave her my innocent face.

"Nothing Mom," we replied in unison and we were pretty good at that.

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The trick to riding a motorcycle in a dress is to make sure it has a long skirt, first of all. Second, you pull it tight around the thighs and sit on it. Third, and this is important, you ride like a bat out of hell to get where you're going before it gets so wrinkled you have to turn around and go home in shame.

There's another way though, much simpler and I generally prefer it…Just don't care. Riding fast is still heartily recommended, however, because that way most people will wonder if they really did see your panties or not. Also, now that I’m thinking about it, the wind really feels good!

"Hi!" I said, combing my fingers through my hair and wondering why I hadn't put it in a ponytail before leaving the house.

"Hello." An older man smiled at me, an older version of Butch, big and healthy with a buzz cut all his own.

"Can Butch come out and play?" I asked him with a nervous giggle. My heart was going pitter-patter because I'm awful with parents.

"Excuse me?" The man blinked.

"Sorry, uh…" I cleared my throat. "I'm Ashley. Is Butch home?"

"Yeah, he’s here," the man agreed. For a second there I thought he intended to close the door and make me wait outside.

Ever notice how everyone else's family always seems a little weird, but your own family seems normal? Except our own families are the worst, usually, and we know it in the back of our minds. It's why we always apologize instinctively the first time someone meets our relatives. 

"Come on in," he decided after a long second's hesitation. "Butch! You've got company!" he yelled and I winced. "Butch will be down in a second."

"Thanks." I smiled at the man.

"I'm Butch's dad," he said, standing there awkwardly. It didn’t seem like he was used to having company.

"Great," I nodded. "It’s nice to meet you. I'm Butch's girlfriend."

"Oh?" He scratched his head. "I thought he was dating Linda?"

"He was," I sighed airily. "But Linda came down with a rabid case of syphilis, so…"

"Excuse me?" The man blinked hard.

"Well, that's what I heard." I bit my lip. "Or was it gonorrhea? I can never remember."

"Uh…." He looked around, wanting to see anything but me just then. "Butch!"

"I'm here, Pops. Geez!" Butch walked into the room, which I guess you’d call a front parlor…or something. It looked like a living room, but without a television..

“About time,” his dad grumbled. I wasn’t sure, but I started thinking that I hadn’t made much of a first impression.

"Hi Ashley." Butch smiled at me and at least he looked friendly.

"Hi!" I smiled back at the boy and he looked nice, kinda dressed up in jeans and flannel shirt. "Are we going to a rodeo?"

"What?" He gave me a confused look and I'd sorta forgotten I wasn't a tomboy, as you can tell. 

"What's this about Linda getting sick?" his dad demanded.

"What?" Butch really looked confused then..

"Come on! I'm double parked!" I said with a giggle, grabbing his hand. "Nice meeting you Butch's dad!"

"Uh…Bye Pops!" Butch didn't seem to mind being dragged out of the house, but his father wasn’t smiling.

"You're dad's really nice." I said, holding Butch's hand as we walked towards my motorcycle, but I didn't mean a word of it.

"He's kinda weird," he shrugged. "Sorry about that. Ever since him and my mom split up…"

"Yeah, everybody's dad is weird," I told him. "Don't worry about it."

"I thought you said he was nice." Butch grinned like he'd caught me in a lie.

"I lied," I said. "Don't worry, I lie all the time, but I'll always tell you when I'm doing it, okay?"

"Yeah, I guess so." He laughed. "You're the strangest person I’ve ever met, Ashley."

"You don't know half of it yet, boyfriend." I giggled. "Did you break up with Linda yet?"

"How do you know about her?"

"Me and your dad talked all about her," I said, straddling my motorcycle. "He heard she had syphilis or something."

"What?"

"I dunno, that's just what he heard." I frowned at my dress and decided not to tuck it under my butt. I felt sort of self-conscious with Butch watching. "Are you coming?"

"Where did he hear that from?" he wondered, getting on behind me.

"Ummm…I think I told him," I admitted with a laugh. "Anyway, you gotta hold my skirt down, okay? But no feeling around down there, I don't wanna freak you out."

"Freak me out?" Butch asked. "What's that mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," I said. "Hands on my thighs. I won't drive too fast, just keep my skirt from pulling a Marilyn, okay?"

"A Marilyn? Yeah, um, okay," he nodded. "Where are we going?"

"The Dairy Queen!" I grinned at him. "Where else would we go on our first date?"

"I dunno." Butch laughed. "There's a party out at Madison's"

"Who's Madison?" I cranked my baby up and gave her some throttle.

"Donnie Madison. The quarterback." 

"Oh. That guy," I nodded. "All the football players gonna be there?"

"Probably."

"Cheerleaders too, huh?"

"I guess so," he shrugged. “Why?”

"Linda's a cheerleader, isn't she?" I bit my bottom lip.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Lucky guess," I sighed. "Let's go meet her. Where's this place at?"

"That way." Butch pointed and off we went.

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"So, where are you from?" a guy asked me from beneath his big black cowboy hat. We were at a real country kegger and I'd heard of those, but never seen one before.

"New York," I replied. "The Village."

"The village huh?" another guy spoke up, and I think half the high school must have been there. "Where's that?"

"In New York," I said, wondering if we were speaking a different language. "Anyway, it's nice out here. I saw a cow today."

"Oh." The two boys smiled and probably wondered if they were supposed to laugh or not.

I looked across the living room to see Butch talking with Linda, or being talked to, more or less. He didn't look very happy and she kept shooting me dirty looks like you wouldn't believe. I was already the talk of the town, I guess. The girl who stole Linda's boyfriend like twenty minutes after moving in. I kinda wished I'd worn something sexier than a long blue summer dress, because most of the girls were wearing their cheerleader outfits. You know, short pleated skirts and tight knit tops, all red and gold. At least they left their pom-poms at home, but it still made me feel unspecial.

I decided I had to fix that.

"Hey boyfriend." I slid right up to Butch, putting my arm around his waist and rubbing his shoulder with my cheek while I smiled at Linda.

"You can have him!” she spat. "Bitch."

"That went better than I thought it would," I said, giggling as the other girl walked out of the party. Linda looked a little embarrassed and a lot pissed off.

"She hates me," Butch sighed.

"Me too," I sighed, doing a fair imitation of his. "Hey, I know what'll cheer us up!"

"What?" Butch looked pretty depressed and I almost felt bad, wondering if he hadn't loved that girl or something.

"You ever had a blowjob?" I asked him conversationally. About a half-dozen kids gasped and then a few of them smiled at me.

"No." He swallowed hard.

"No?" I giggled. "God! I did you a favor, Butch. Come on."

"Where?”

"The bathroom," I shrugged. "Unless you want me to do it right here."

"No." He shook his head quickly.

"Then let's go to the bathroom," I told him. "I'll kiss it and make you feel all better."

"Ashley…" Butch followed me, but only because I was holding his hand tight. "This is crazy!"

"I'm a little crazy," I breathed, looking down a hallway. "Is it that way?"

"We can't…I just met you!" he protested. “I don’t even know your last name.”

"You're a virgin, huh?" I said, teasing him with another giggle. "I think it’s this way."

"Ash! No…Please!" Butch wasn't gonna do it and he suffered from being too normal. "Look, I just want to know you first, okay?"

"What?" I stared at him. "You want to know what I read and what music I like, and if I want to be a nurse or a teacher when I grow up?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "I guess."

"Hmmm…" I took a deep breath and frowned. "Fine, whatever."

"Don't be mad, Ashley." Butch frowned too.

"I'm not mad," I lied.

"Yeah you are." He shook his head. "You go like a hundred miles an hour all the time, just…Slow down, okay?"

"What do you want to do?" I asked, feeling like a jerk suddenly.

The boy was right and I really had to calm down. What was I trying to impress those people for anyway? Because that’s all it had been; just me showing off because I wasn’t a stupid cheerleader. I think it was a stress thing, moving and being different and…I dunno. I wasn't happy, I knew that. I'd been playing tomboy in my sister's pretty dress and that never worked.

"Let's go outside. We can go for a ride," Butch suggested. "We can just sit someplace for awhile. I don't even know you yet."

"Yeah." I looked down at my hands as they played with the sash around my tummy. Girl hands, small and delicate with my nails freshly painted red.

"You don't know me either, right?" Butch reached for my hips and we stood there in the hallway just looking at each other. "Maybe you won't even like me."

"You don't like me, huh?" I felt like crying.

"I like you, Ash. I do," he said softly. "I just…This ain't the big city, you know? People around here move slow. Girls on motorcycles…Heh."

I giggled at that and put my arms around his neck and he seemed so much bigger and stronger than me. I pulled myself close and he hugged me the way I needed. Our eyes had met and I knew I’d been right about him too. I had to be or I wouldn’t have felt so warm inside, almost electric with the tingling and the goosebumps.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "You're right."

"Let's just be alone for awhile," Butch suggested, bending his head to find my ear with his lips. "That'll be nice."

"Alright," I agreed, barely getting the words out. “I want to be with you.” 

It was there, one of those moments that come out of nowhere, when you're close and touching and looking at someone special. I wanted him to kiss me right then, our first kiss, and he wanted it too. The unspoken desire hung between us and I felt Butch's hands tighten around my waist, giving me a small squeeze. I curled my fingers and scratched lightly at his neck like a little brown mouse. My nipples were hard and trying to grow, and my cock was small but stiff now, tenting my panties as I pressed myself against the boy.

Maybe Butch could feel me there, maybe not. His own cock had become a noticeable lump against my tummy and I didn't mind that at all. Probably we stood there ten seconds like that, which is an eternity really. Everything else moves faster, all your thoughts and emotions go so fast that time seems to drag on forever. I had a hundred things in my head, a hundred problems to solve, and one good kiss from Butch seemed like the perfect solution to all of them. I closed my eyes and waited for it, knowing he felt it too, and then…He let me go.

"Uh…" Butch offered me an apologetic smile. "We should go maybe."

"Yeah, I guess." I blinked and let go of his neck, wondering what I’d done wrong this time. "Sorry."

"For what?" He shook his head and we had to walk through the party with everyone talking about us. I was burning my bridges before I even got to them.

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"Guffy's Pond, huh?" I smiled and looked around. We were sitting on an old picnic table with our feet on the bench and there weren’t any lights, but the moon was almost full anyway. We could see each other.

"Yeah, this is it," Butch shrugged.

"You got your initials on this table someplace?" I wondered, feeling the graffiti under my fingers.

"Yeah," he admitted. "Somewheres. Me and Linda."

"Huh," I said and I did feel kind of bad about breaking them up. "Were you guys going together a long time?"

"About a year."

"And you broke up just cause I said so?" 

"Well," he cleared his throat. "I didn't really break up with her; she kinda broke up with me."

"Oh," I sighed. "Are you gonna marry her?"

"No!" Butch laughed. "I wasn't ever gonna do that."

"Why not?"

"I dunno," he shrugged. "I like her a lot, but I don't love her like that. I never lied to her or anything about it."

“Yeah?”

“We were just going out, that’s all.”

"It’s kind of a small town though. Who else are you gonna marry?" I wondered, laying my head on my knees sideways and looking at him.

"I don't want to stay here," Butch said, leaning back on stiff arms and meeting my gaze. "I figured I'd join the Marines maybe. That's what my dad did before."

"Not gonna go to college or anything?"

"I'm not smart enough for that," he said. "I barely get through twelfth grade. That stuff costs money anyway."

"Yeah."

"What are you gonna do when you graduate?"

"Go back to New York," I said. "Find a job doing something, I don't know. Go to school, like City College or something. I haven't figured out what I like yet."

"You like that place though, huh?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "I love it there. I was pretty happy."

"Is that why you act so funny?" Butch grinned at me. "Because you don't like it here?"

"Nah," I giggled. "I always act funny, believe me. I'm trying to tone it down some."

"Well, you come on like a tornado, you know that?" he said. "Like dropping houses on people."

"Heh." I smiled and stuck my tongue out at him. "I just figure a good offense is a good defense or whatever. You know?"

"Yeah maybe."

"You like it?" I asked him. "The way I am?"

"Kinda," Butch shrugged. "I dunno. I like some of it. I mean, you're pretty funny sometimes. You're cool too, but like the blowjob thing…"

"What?" I laughed as he looked away from me for a second. "I'd have done it!"

"I believe you," he said quickly, bringing his eyes back to mine. "I just…It's kinda bad. Nobody talks about that stuff around here, not like that."

"I'm kind of a bad girl," I sighed. "My friends before, where I used to hang out in the Village and stuff? They liked it."

“They did?” A small frown pulled the corners of his mouth downward. “Did you, um…I mean, have you done that…a lot?”

“I’m not gonna tell you!” I said with another laugh and he had to smile again.

"Well, that's where you oughta be, I guess," Butch told me. "Not around here."

"You're kind of a good guy, huh?" I looked at him, sitting back up.

"Me?" he shrugged. "I try to be. I dunno."

"Yeah, you are." I'd figured that out the moment I met him. "You wanna meet my sister?"

"What?"

"Stephanie. She's my sister. I bet you'd like her a lot," I said. "She'd like you."

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, smiling as he didn’t realize I wasn’t teasing. Talking about New York had changed my mind, that and my feelings; I didn’t want to hurt him.

"I'm, uh…" I sucked my lips and thought about it for a second, but he had to know the truth. "I'm not really a girl, Butch."

"What?" He laughed.

"I'm a boy," I told him. "I mean, everybody's gonna know on Monday when I go to school, so…" I shrugged. "I wanted to make you like me before then."

"You're a boy?" his voice was soft and he sounded hurt.

"Some of me," I said. "Not the important parts, but…I guess they're important to other people."

"What does that mean?" Butch asked. "I don't get it, Ashley."

"I’ve got a dick," I giggled, feeling nervous and relieved at the same time. "I'm a girl, but I’ve got a dick, you know? It's stupid."

"Oh."

"You mad?" I bit my lip. "Are you mad at me, Butch? I'm sorry, okay?"

"You're a fag." He was mad.

"Yeah," I replied with a hard swallow. "I'm a fag and a cocksucker and sissy and a homo and…"

"Yeah, shut-up," he said unhappily. "I didn't say all that."

"You said fag," I shrugged. "It's true anyway, so…I don't care. It doesn't hurt me."

"And you figured I'd be your boyfriend and then everybody would find out and then…" Butch was talking to himself mostly, "…everybody would think I was a fag too. So I'd have to be your boyfriend then cause everybody would hate me anyway."

"No." I looked down. "I didn't think about it like that."

"What?" He stared at me. "You thought I'd love you or something so it wouldn't matter?"

"Maybe." I felt my eyes getting wet.

"You're a liar, huh?" Butch said and my tears were falling all the way down to the ground.

"Yeah," I whispered.

He let me cry for awhile and I felt empty inside, as if I'd thrown-up for an hour and there wasn't anything left. All my feelings just puked out so I was dead and that hurt more than anything. I rocked a little, wishing it would go away, all that hurting. I wished he would say something, or hit me, or yell. I wanted Butch to do anything but sit there and watch me cry. That seemed like the worst thing he could do to me and I hated him for it, except I didn't. I didn't have any hate in me, except maybe for myself.

"All right…" he said gently, and I felt his hand on my back.

"Don't touch me." I jerked away, but not very far and his fingers didn't leave my dress.

"Stop crying. Come on, Ash," he said. "That's enough."

I just shook my head, all hunched over and shaking, with my nose runny and my eyes sore.

"I'm sorry I got mad." Butch said, moving closer and reaching around me. "I didn't mean to call you a fag. It just sorta…slipped out."

"I'm not crying cause of that," I said, squeezing my eyes shut and wishing he’d leave me alone. But not really.

"I know. Those words don't hurt you, right?"

"They don't." 

"I know. Yeah," he agreed. "So you ain't gotta cry, okay? I don't like it."

"What do you care?" I sniffed. "I told you I was sorry. I am. I'm sorry, okay?"

"Me too," he said, rubbing my back with his arm, stroking my side with his hand. "I never met anybody like you before."

"Never will again." I laughed bitterly and wiped at my eyes, but I couldn’t look at him. Even when I felt his fingers sliding along the side of my breast and back down to my waist, I kept my head down.

"I mean, you said you're a boy, but…I can't tell," Butch said slowly, struggling to find the right words. "You cry like a girl."

"Heh!" I laughed at that and even glanced at him, just for a second.

"I don't know," he sighed. "Near as I can tell, you think like a girl too, Ashley."

"How's that?" I wondered softly.

"Like everything's gotta be your way all the time," he explained. "Maybe not, but I'm saying it seems like it. You just make up your mind and don't let anybody argue or whatever."

"I've been argued with my whole life," I told at him, regretting the bitter edge to my voice, but I couldn’t help it. "Everybody’s been telling me I was boy ever since I could remember."

Butch didn't say anything, so I kept talking.

"I knew I wasn't, see? They thought I was crazy, you know?" I shrugged and sorta ran out of steam. "For awhile I almost thought everybody was right and I was wrong."

"What changed your mind?"

"Nothing," I sighed. "I just didn't let them argue with me anymore."

"Yeah. See?" He grinned at me. "I saw you today on that motorcycle and I thought you were the coolest girl in the world."

"Sorry." I wiped my nose and frowned. "Big disappointment, huh?"

"No." Butch shook his head. "Not anymore."

"What's that mean?" I wondered as his hand tightened on my waist. He pulled me upward, turning and hugging me, and I didn't understand why.

"If you were just a girl, like a crazy one…" he said, holding me so close that my arm went over his thighs. My breasts were against his chest and my face went to his neck.

"What?" I whispered. My lips moved against his bare skin and I could feel his breath in my hair.

"…that would be disappointing," he said gently. "But you aren't crazy, Ashley."

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, closing my arms around him.

"Because I don't want to spend the rest of my life thinking I shoulda done it," Butch answered. "Ain't that reason enough?"

"Yeah." I licked my lips, turning my face upward, and then he kissed me.

 

To Be Continued