One of the Boys

That afternoon felt like the height of summer in the south of France. The cloudless sky let the strong UV rays blind us as we ran around the football pitch and forced our eyes into slits as we squinted to see each other in the blinding light. The air was dry, it hadn't rained in weeks and the farmers were panicking all over the country cursing global warming and what not. I, however was laughing, hooting and cheering non-stop as my team pounded the cracked soil chasing like hounds after a football. Cameroon was my back up and as we sprinted past the halfway line together time and time again. I came to the conclusion, that Cameron must become, whatever the cost my PE partner. I wasn't nearly as good as quite a few of the boys in my class, which was saturated with boys from the schools actual football and rugby team, but I was new and small and they all seemed reluctant to confront me in any way. I was running on a high, my heart was beating so fast it filled my ears with the "lub dub" noise of a heartbeat, I was sweating so much that I felt the salt sting my eyes and dry my lips further, and I was having so much fun playing with guys once more like when I was eleven, that I forgot I wasn't one of them.

"Luc! Over here! PASS!" my head spun to my left, I could see Cameron racing up towards me, the exhilarated smiles that we had shared every time we had crossed eyes, silly little grins full of exhaustion and pride, were no longer there. I grew confused and whiplashed my face back to the direction I was heading, only to realize the goal post was no longer in view, but the big hulking frame of Craig Miller had replaced it. I had finally heard his first name when the PE teacher, Mr Salvage, A.K.A Mr. Savage according to Cameron, had done the roll call.

Between the time I had turned to look at Cameron to now, Miller had placed himself in my path and was charging towards me at full speed. I presume he had realised that me being new wouldn't stop me from daring to scoring goals, and back down from a challenge.

I panicked and reoriented myself to pass the ball to the hollering Cameron with a great big slide to the ground, however it all went horribly wrong as I saw Miller's leg raise and move towards me at full speed aiming at where the ball once was but after my drop pass, my chest was instead. Next thing I knew the sun had set and I was seeing stars, and the pounding in my chest seemed to stop as my ears filled with my own moans and screams of pain. Miller's kick to my chest had thrown me back a couple of meters, and from the burning feeling on my lower back and but, I could feel that I had skidded a good few inches after that.

"MILLER!" the coach screamed from the other end of the field. "What the hell have you done now boy?" I forced myself to open my eyes and feared for a second that the fall had blinded me, but after furious blinking, my eyes were able to adjust to the bright sunlight that hung above me as the orange sun slowly slipped beyond the horizon.

Above me a huddle of boys were bent down over me, pack and tight. Searching for Cameron I caught the sight of a worried frown transform into the normal smirk which he accompanied by a playful shake of the head. “You loser,” he mouth playful.

"I did not do anything Sir!" Miller whined looking over his shoulders. "I definitively did not kill him, Sir!" he crouched down and waved his hand over my eyes sporadically "Hey, new boy! Lu? Luther? Shit no, Lucas! LUCAS! CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

"Of course I can, your face is right in mine," I grumbled. I raised a hand and lightly slapped his away.

"Miller, I told you boy, no rough play this year on my field. You keep that for the rugby!" Mr. Salvage had now joined the group of boys and was peering down at me quizzically, then he spat at the grass behind him as he said in disgust, "You look downright horrible, your nose, mouth and whole rest of you are bleeding like some vampire caused genocide."

I tried to pull myself up but struggled realising every time I tried to take a breath my lungs felt compressed. I explained this to the coach, my mouth spitting out all the blood I was refusing to swallow, the sight made a few boys blanch and look away in discuss.

"Ah, well Miller here kicked you hard into the chest and then his foot travelled to your jaw you see."

"It isn't my fault . I didn't know she was going down, my foot should have hit the ball or the air!"

"Quiet Miller, you are already shedding blood on my field and it’s only the bloody first day back. Lucas Johns is it? Well you are lucky you aren't a girl now aren't you. A kick like that would leave some seriouse bruising, a tender female flesh," when I didn't even smile in relief at his inappropriate joke he peered at me bizarrely and turned round to spit on the grass again. I bet he momentarily wondered if I possibly was.

"Why don't you go back to your room Johns? You'll see you'll feel much better on a bed than this rock hard soil."

Grimly I agreed with a nod of the head and struggled to push myself up. Miller awkwardly gave me his open palm which I clung to and heaved myself up. I withheld a gasp as I realised my binding had dangerously loosened. "Yes. Bed sound great. I- I need to clean myself off." I’d have to nip of and rebind myself when I got some privacy later on.

"I'll take him coach," Cameron said. Not waiting for anyone's approval he ran to the side of the field, pick up both of my satchel and his backpack and raced back to me.

"It's hard to breath," I told him, I had been palpating my chest where I imagined my lungs to be, trying to breath past the compression feeling.

"Don't worry, short stuff, I got all my ice packs in my mini fridge, I use them all the time for training. But for now let's get you looking more presentable than an extra from Dawn of the Dead or something." Cameron whipped of his white cotton t-shirt that had been clinging to his defined body since half time, revealing underneath an abdomen and biceps sculpted by Greek artists. I nearly swooned; luckily in this case I could have blamed it on the heat or blood loss. Instead I stumbled slightly and he caught me with his free arm and with the other he whipped my bloody face with his t-shirt.

"Ugh!" I cried pulling my face away, "It stinks,"

"So do you," he chuckled merrily leaning my frame against his. "Blood and sweat, oh!, and let's not forget tears, make -"

"I didn't cry," I never cry from such things, my martial art's training drilled it out of me. "Cry in you bed at night, but not on the battlefield" is what my instructor always told me. "I never cry."

"A sorry must have been my imagination," he teased as we trotted along to our dorm. «But the way you flew, actually flew, makes me think someone of your size would have definitively cried."

Before I could retort back an answer we heard Miller cry out "BUT IT WASN'T MY FAULT SIR!"

"MILLER, GROW SOME BALLS, AND DO 15 LAPS AROUND THE FIELD. NOW!"

Cameron chuckled some more and shook his wet hair out of his face. I'd have to remember not to piss off the coach. He looked about sixty, but obviously he still had some energy left in him.

"You know, he did mean to do it." I looked up at Cameron who had swung both our bags on his other shoulder and had his bloody shirt tucked a bit into his shorts. My head reached him just below his armpits, I felt so small next to him.

"What?"

"Miller, he knew you were going to pass be the ball by diving down, he's smart when it comes to knowing the other players' game play. Coach knows that too well. "

"The bastard. I've got a split lip because of him."

"I don't think he knew you'd weigh so little. You must weigh less than Theodore,"

"Hey, not talking about my size or weight, I have a quite a bit of complex about it. Any way I make up the size where most of you big tall guys lose it."

"Oh!" laughed Cameroon looking down at me, "You want to go there, do you, because I can promise you, you are way too small in size to carry a package worth to be reckoned with. Holderness boys are known for their, endowments. It's part of the application requirement."

I knew for a fact it wasn't, but I laughed along with his joke anyway. The boys' egos were the biggest thing any of them had. "I got in didn't I?"

He peered at me funnily and smirked, " So you did. So you did."

Cameron and I reached my room quickly enough, and he lay me down on Teddy's bed, as I didn't think I could manage the steep loft steps to mine. I was surprised with the gentleness of Cameron's movement and he placed me on the bed.

"I'll be back in a bit with the ice packs. I have tennis training soon so I'll ask Marcus to take care of you; he's in the kitchen getting you a drink."

"I don't need taking care, of, I'm just a bit battered. That's all"

"Yeah mate, as battered as fish and chips,” he leaned on the door frame, one hand stratching the back of his head as though contemplating something. He still hadn't put a shirt back on. Reality check Lucy, why should he, it's a boy's school. I stared at those packs some more, I should be called a men's school.

"You were really good out at football, you know for someone who's so short. You've got speed. You should consider joining the school's team, Rugby and Football. Try outs are this coming weekend."

"Who do I know that's on the team?"

"Me, of course, Miller, Leo...some of the time."

"I'll think about it." but my silly smile told him that I had already decided that I would.

"Great, look forward to running with you again. You've got skills." He left me trying to control my bleeding nose with a handkerchief that he had pulled out of his pockets on the way in. Only real gentlemen carried handkerchiefs now a days. And by real, I mean ones that are imaginary characters in stories.

My head was starting to really pound and I was trying not to fall asleep out of exhaustion and pain. Marcus crept in and handed me a glass of water pitifully.

"Your chest is bleeding through you shirt, Miller's boot's must have hit cut you quite badly. Lucky you’re not a girl, like I though right?" I barely nodded gulping down the glass of water in greed globs. It had a strong taste of blood."I'll go to the nurse in a bit," I managed to reply.

"Cameron gave me these packs," Marcus continued, but his voice sounded fuzzy and distant. "And I wanted to say sorry about this morning. I didn't mean you any offence. No harm no foul?"

I vaguely recall nodding and smiling at his sweet demeanour. From my half closed eyes I could see him knelt at my bedside watching over me. I think he said something else but I can’t remember of what. I dozed off, relieved to feel the pain subsiding as I lost touch with the real world.

SLAM!

I jump out of my skin, to weak and groggy from sleep to scream this time. I soon was aware that the pain on my chest was still very predominant. Searching for the source of the noise I saw Marcus at our room's doorway, he had obviously just shut it and was striding towards me with a look ready to kill.

"What's going on?" I was panicked, I won't lie. The black cat was perched on his shoulder his or her tail wrapped around his neck, looking at me with big eyes that seemed to say, "You've done it now!"

"That's fucking what I would like to know." His voice was hushed as if he realized that slamming the door shut would attract attention, instead of privacy he obviously was wanting.

"I was looking for a fresh shirt for you, and I found these," Dangling from his little finger were two bras of mine, a plain bust enhancing black one, and a lacy baby pink Victoria secrete one. I think I died at that moment. "I...I...I'm a cross dresser," I fibbed, searching for any sort of explanation except the truth. "It turns me on. You should try it sometimes?"

Why did I bring those bras with me, why? I asked myself over and over again. The answer which I knew very well wasn't comforting, I had been hoping to escape on some weekends and return to being a girl about town. So the cross dressing thing wasn't a lie. I just cross dressed into a boy.

"Nice try, but that's what I thought too. Each to their own kinky business right? So as I was taking you shirt off because I wanted to put the ice pack directly on your chest and stop you from dirtying Teddy's bed but then I found those." His voice was still low and controlled, still serious and deadly.

I followed his pointing finger and found them pointing at my chest, which was unbound, with my two breasts hanging out pertly relived to no longer be compressed and were sticking out like a sour thumbs. I took little notice to the fact that there was a big gash down the side of my right one, because at that moment I was sure I was dying of shock.

"I,I,I..." I trembled, covering myself of right way. My legs on top of the bed sheets were shacking something terrible.

"What? Those are implant? I know real from fake, a quick grope and I could tell instantly that those were real. No boob job ever fools me."

"You groped me?" I gawked, "In my sleep? That's like boob rape,"

He ignored me and continued on his rant, his eyes refusing to travel anywhere but bellow my lips. "And then I thought, I might just be wrong. I said 'Fuck this madness, I'll check', so I did. And you know what?"

I gulped noisily.

"You're definitively a girl."

"I'm not jackass. Why would I be, how could I be?" This was the extent of my feeble attempt to salvage the situation. "Why do you care anyhow?”

"What the hell are you doing in a boy's boarding school? If you were a boy and this was a girl’s school, I'd call you pervert, but I don't know what the hell to call you in this case."

I groaned in frustration, unable to worm my way out of this. "You're making a mistake, I am not a girl. How would I have gotten in?"

"Do not lie to me; you know how wrong this is? I know you're a girl.

I couldn't believe that he was trying to claim that this had upset him somehow. Then a bigger concern hit me.

"You know? You said you’ve checked? How?"

"I looked down your pants of course. And you definitively have girl's sex organ."

And that’s when I died of shock.