"Well, hello!" said Mr. G. I had made an appointment with him on Thursday of the first week of school. "What can I do for you?"
"Well, um, some people have been calling me a gay shemale." I said, "and I wonder if that's what I really am?"
"Hey, I would be aq bit surprised!" he said with a grin. "You've got the looks for a top-notch one, that's for sure!"
Thank you," I said. I was wearing a tight peach-colored to with a neckline a tiny bit lower than I really thought ladylike, with a plain tan skirt that didn't quite reach my knees. My bra was stuffed with hankies as always, but I figured Mr. G didn't need to know that.
"So have you known you were gay for a long time?" he asked.
"Well no, I said. "But since I've been wearing girls' clothes in public, I've noticed it gets me, um, very excited when, you know, boys are attracted to me."
"I bet a lot of boys are!" he said. Even supposedly straight buys. You know a lot of them go crazy when a cute gay shemale comes along." He grinned. "Of course we knew the age of consent is 176m so of course you're not going to go all the way with any boys until then." He winked at me, as if he knew it wasn't true, but actually it was true. I wasn't ready to "go all the way" with a boy, and I didn't know if I would be even when I was 16.
"But before that, a terrific way to discover whether you're a gay shemale would be to dance with some guys at the GLBT dance tomorrow night. Are you going to go?"
Uhm, yes."
Excellent!"