Full Disclosure, p.18

counselor for the seventh grade. There’s a bunch of stuff I had never heard of. It made my head all goofy. I didn’t know what to expect. I started getting the giggles. I looked down at my new clothes. I smiled. I couldn’t see past my breasts, that made me happy.

Mama let me wear one of my tank tops, if I kept my new lightweight gray hoodie on over it. The hoodie fit me snugly and it looked good with my jeans. The tank top was sexy. I washed and combed out my hair. It was getting longer now and it was on my neck. My hair was still light yellow and I still parted it in the middle and it was still frizzy. I still had blue eyes, and I still had a few freckles on my cheeks. I didn’t have money for makeup, and Mama wouldn’t have it at my age, she told me.

The secretary opened the door finally and called me in. The office was brightly lit. There was a high, L-shaped counter to the left as I came in the door and then a hallway around the counter to the left as I followed the secretary to an office door halfway down the hall. The door said “Principal.” We went in.

Mama was there, we smiled. The Principal was behind the desk, a short, thin, balding man in his fifties, smooth shaved with brown, close-set eyes. He hunched forward with his fingers interlaced. On the other side of Mama in the big office was a woman. She wore a brown pantsuit. Her gray hair was big and fluffy, and she had deep red lipstick. She smiled real big and held out her hand when the Principal introduced her as my new guidance counselor, Ms. Owens. She had my medical folder in her hands, the one Mama had brought with her to the school. She quickly scanned my body as she held my hand. That was not new to me.

“Have a seat, Ronni,” the Principal said. I didn’t catch his name, but his placard on his desk said Mr. Pzeshweski. I sat in a chair against the wall facing him. I noticed all the chairs faced his desk. That was a smart way to do it.

“First, Ronni, let tell you that what is discussed here will be held in the strictest of confidence. Law binds us to not discuss your situation with any outside party, so do not feel like we are violating your privacy. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir, Mr. She-shwes-ski.” I said, sounding out his name.

He laughed. “That is very good! No one pronounces my name the first time! Your foster Mother, your guidance counselor, and I have been discussing your delicate and rare medical condition. Our major concern is to provide you with a safe atmosphere for you to learn and grow here at Lafayette Middle School. We have discussed the topic of restroom usage and we feel that the most proper course of action for your safety is for you to use a separate facility in Ms. Owen’s office should the need arise between classes. Ms. Owens will keep her restroom open and available for you, if you find it locked, the just ask the secretary and she will open it for you. Do you have any questions about that?”

“No, not about the bathroom. I see why I should be isolated. But, others will ask questions if they find out I don’t use the regular girl’s bathroom.”

“You mean the boy’s bathroom,” he said.

I looked at Mama. She frowned. “I’m a girl. If you didn’t know anything about me and saw me walking down the hallway out here, which sex would you automatically think I am?”

“A girl,” Ms. Owens said. “Frank, we have to enroll her as a girl. Her outwards appearance is a girl. There is going to be too much controversy if we try to tell everybody she’s a boy. And, we’d be violating her medical privacy!”

I stood up and removed my hoodie and let him see my chest in just my tank top. I put my hands on my hips and turned around so he could see my butt. He got a good look at my woman’s form. “I’m a girl,” I repeated.

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