The New Girl in Smallville by Christopher Leeson Part 2

 

THE NEW GIRL IN SMALLVILLE

by Christopher Leeson

 

Part Two

After their return home, Clair spent the next three days allowing his foster mother to instruct her about how a girl walks, moves, and talks. The night before her debut in school, Mrs. Kent picked assembled an outfit for Claire to wear — a white blouse and a pink skirt. 

The next morning, Jonathan put a “closed” sign in the store window. Clark’s room redecoration for Claire required the pair’s full commitment. The girl had removed Clark’s things and hidden them in a dugout room in the tunnel system. The room had undergone a gender change by afternoon. The dresser and closet were full of different clothing and shoes. Martha’s childhood dressing table was moved from attic storage for Claire to use. Mrs. Kent cluttered it with combs, hairpins, brushes, and items of makeup. A Disney Princess rack was placed upon it to hold small objects. In the late afternoon, Claire came home angry. She told her mother about some of the awkward experiences she’d had during her first day at school. But the anger in her blood ran hotter than that. 

She seethed with indignation. She didn’t enjoy living this way! The ungrateful Shar-La had attacked Superboy maliciously and ruined his life! Superboy’s actions, she realized, led directly to her present-day problems.

After school, fate had subjected her to another indignity. Claire had flown to the county fair, where she had seen a girl performer in danger. After she intervened to save her from harm, a crowd gathered. She chose this as the moment to tell the town about her Superboy's sister. Impulsively, she assigned herself the name of “Super-Sister.” 

One fair-goer addressed her with a loud voice, asking whether she’d be able to handle all the trouble that Superboy was used to dealing with. 

“Why shouldn't I be able to handle it?” Super-Sister had replied. 

“You’re only a girl!” the man had answered.

In the privacy of the Kent home, Claire swore out loud. People will never admit that I measure up. I’ve finished about making trouble for myself by helping people!

Mrs. Kent could only hope that her new daughter’s declaration came from her anger, not from her heart.

#

The next morning, Claire Kent began her second day as a female senior. As she went along the hall, her super hearing heard all the surrounding whispers. 

They put her on edge. How picky people were about little things! They made her feel like she had to walk on eggs, to keep from saying or doing little things that her schoolmates might seize upon! She would have preferred living in a jungle in preference to Smallville.

As Claire approached the door to her first-period class, she continued to hear unwelcome comments. To her relief, most of them were chattering about the sudden appearance of Super-Sister at the fair. It was big news. Superboy had departed from Earth and had left his sister behind to fill his cape and boots. 

When class let out, the new girl spotted Lana Lang with female friends in the locker area. Lana waved her over. "Claire!” she called. 

"Hey, Lana," Claire said. "Morning, everyone.”

Lana hurriedly introduced her to the cluster of girls. Claire, needing to go to another class, departed with a smile and a nod. But the feeling that everyone was stealing glances at her had not yet abated.

Claire sat near them without saying very much. But one of the girls at the table mentioned how she always disliked Phy. Ed. class because of the group showers.

That reminded the girl from Krypton that she was going to attend her first girls’ gym class the next day, Tuesday! Shower with nude girls? The thought made her blood run cold.

#

One of those surreptitious onlookers was Pete Ross, a tall, athletic-looking senior with very fair hair. Leaning against the wall, he watched Claire interact with Lana and the others. 

The athletic-looking brunette looked edgy, but Pete supposed that meeting new people made her nervous. What impressed the Smallville boy more than that was Claire’s uncanny resemblance to his friend Clark Kent. 

Pete suddenly started seeing a pattern. The afternoon before, a super-powered girl calling herself Super-Sister had appeared at the county fair. A snapshot in the morning paper showed a black-haired girl who looked like a female version of Superboy. 

Her costume was the same as his, except that she wore a pair of red trunks instead of trousers like his. It was not surprising if Superboy’s sister looks like him, but why should Claire Kent look like Clark at the same time? The pair were not blood cousins. Clark had been an adopted child.  

Did Clark Kent have a Kryptonian sister who had just arrived on Earth to assume the identity of Claire Kent? Or was something else happening? Some funny business was afoot, and Pete wanted to know what it was all about.

After the next class period, Pete watched the halls for Claire and approached her swiftly when she came into view.
"Hi, Claire,” he called out. “I know your cousin Clark. Welcome to Smallville. How do you like it here so far?"

Claire glanced up at the boy, now much taller than she was. “Hi, Pete,” she replied in a controlled tone. “I haven’t seen all of Smallville so far."

Pete tried not to react visibly to her reply. How did she know his first name without him mentioning it? “Smallville's a great place,” he said. “Lots of interesting things happen around here. Superboy, especially, has always kept this town lively”.

“But I hear that he’s left the planet Earth,” he added. “I’m sorry you won’t get a chance to see him. Have you heard that he’s been replaced by a super girl, one who’s called Super-Sister. Pretty crazy, huh?”

“Yeah, crazy," she agreed."

Pete noted a slight tension in her jaw. She looked tense, on guard. “I heard about you last night,” he said. “They say you’re Clark Kent’s cousin. Clark and I are good friends. Do you know Clark very well?”

Claire's kept her composure. “I only know him from the letters and cards that his folks exchange with my dad. I never got to meet him in person.”

Pete smiled. “Well, I hope you can meet him soon. He’s a great guy. Where is he now? Clark never told me he was leaving town.”

“He’s working for my dad in Florida. Clark’ll attend school there until he can come home.”

“I guess all of us could use a job to help pay for college next year,” said Pete Ross.

Later on, after lunch break, Pete Ross returned to his locker, his mind racing. During the day, a crazy theory had popped into his mind. What if this girl were not a Kryptonian relative of Clark’s? What if Claire was actually Clark Kent himself in a female form? 

According to the fan news, had something occurred to change Clark into a girl? Or was it only that sudden sex-changes were normal for Kryptonian people?

If Claire was indeed Clark, and this change had come upon him involuntarily, what he was undergoing had to be horrifying. Pete wanted to help. And he wanted his friend to know that he had someone on hand willing to help him. But he wasn’t going to reveal his secret knowledge easily. That would be a last resort.

He hoped that his guess about Claire being Clark was wrong. The truth was out there, and he was determined to find it. 

#

The weekend came, and Claire continued her study on how to live as a girl. She had plenty of books that she read at super speed. These included The Girl’s Guide to Absolutely Everything. She didn’t feel like going patrolling as Super-Sister. No one appreciated it, so why should she?

The Monday morning school crowd buzzed with energy. Everything around her was familiar, but everything seemed strange, because she was herself not the same as she and been.

As Claire made her way to her first, she kept her eyes open. Her reading had encouraged her to pay more attention to the nuances of female behavior so she could imitate it.

She noticed that girls often huddled together, protecting one another, sharing secrets. Their world was solar systems away from the social conduct of boys. Boys would tell coarse jokes, roughhouse, and banter challengingly. Clark had once walked comfortably among boys, but Claire felt at sea both around boys and around girls. Each sex now related to her in ways that she wasn’t used to. Understanding how to be a girl was like exploring a jungle.

As the home economics teacher began her lesson, Claire tried to focus on the message, but her mind was a whirlwind. Clark had been missing from school for a week. She wondered if anyone missed him. Clark had cultivated a private life, wanting to keep himself aloof because his role as Superboy mattered above everything else. He never signed up for after-school activities, using the excuse that he had to help his dad at the store.

But what about now? She wasn't interested in launching a new career as Super-Sister. Instead, she felt uneasy about patrolling Smallville as a poor imitation of Superboy. How many people would be thinking, “She’s just a girl!” 

Clark missed Superboy. Without him, his life would have been empty. Clark had no close friends in town except Pete Ross. But Pete had laughed at her like she was ridiculous. Could she forgive that? It didn’t seem possible. Friendships between a boy and a girl were so different from the friendship between two boys. 

 

As the teacher talked on, Claire sighed. She couldn’t go back to her old life as long as this girl business lasted. Might it last forever? With Clark’s life gone, she faced building a new type of life. But what sort of life would that be? It would be a type of life that had to be built from the ground up. What a depressing thought!

#

At lunch, Claire noticed a girl’s arm waving. It was Lana, again seated with friends near the windows. Wanting company, she picked her way through the dinner crowd to join one of her very few good friends.

"Hey, Claire," Lana greeted her cheerfully. "How's your second week of school going?"

Claire forced a smile. "It's been...interesting," she replied. "I’m still getting used to everything."

Lana nodded sympathetically. “I can imagine. But don't worry. I hope you noticed everybody likes you! Smallville might seem small, but it's got a big heart. “Say, the homecoming dance is coming up soon. I know you don’t know many boys yet, so would you want me to help you find?”

“I—I never liked the idea of blind dating,” Claire replied. “It runs so against two people liking one another so much that they want to date.”

“Don’t say no too quickly,” cautioned Lana. “There are a lot of good guys in Smallville.”

Claire grimaced. “Even at the best of times, I’m nervous about meeting new people.”

“That may be, but if you start feeling better about the idea, just let me know!”

Later, in science class, Claire’s active mind continued to dread the looming event. The teacher, Mr. Harris, paced the room as he usually did. Today, he was going on about molecular structures. Clark had flashed through many science books and this basic material left Claire bored and restless.

"Claire," Mr. Harris called out, his voice stern. "Would you mind answering the question I asked?"

Claire looked up, blinking. "I'm s-sorry, Mr. Harris," she stammered. "What did you ask?"

The class tittered, and Claire felt her face flush warmly.  

Mr. Harris sighed. "I asked you to give me the chemical formula for table salt."

Claire nodded. “The formula is NaCl. Sodium chloride.”

“Yes,” said Harris. “That’s collect. But please try to look more attentive, especially when you’re being attentive.”

#

Back home that evening, Claire sat dejectedly on her bed, her knees drawn to her chest, staring out the window at the setting sun. The sun’s rays would have blinded a normal human, but Claire’s supervision could safely inspect the sunspots on the star’s surface. Recent events played over and over in her mind like a movie reel. Her emotions came at her in fast-forward—anger, frustration, fear, and a deep sense of loss.

As she sat there, lost in thought, the girl heard a soft knock at her door. She looked up as her mother, Martha Kent, poked her head in, smiling warmly.

"Claire, honey," Martha whispered, "I thought you might like some company."

Claire forced a small smile. "Thanks, Mom," she said, patting the bed beside her. "You’re right. At school, I’m surrounded by crowds, but I still feel alone."

“Is that why you look so glum?” Martha asked.

“It’s worse than that. I feel like I’ve lost the only friend I ever had,” said her daughter.

“Not Lana?”

“No, Pete Ross.”

“Why? What did he say to you?”

“He hardly said anything. Something feels wrong when I talk to him. It's not the same.”

Martha sat down next to her girl. "You know, sweetheart," she began, "life has a way of throwing us curveballs. That's part of living. But what we do with those curveballs decides which way our lives will turn." She leaned close and gave Claire a hug.

Claire relaxed into the embrace. “That’s what worries me–– how my life has changed,” she whispered.

“Where’s it going?” her mother asked.

“I wish I knew.” 

# 

A ringing alarm abruptly woke Claire the next morning. She lay in place for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, dreading the day ahead. Tuesday would deal her another body blow of mortification.

Once out of bed, she selected clothes for school. Dresses still felt wrong on her, but she was at least grateful that Ma Kent hadn’t bought her any miniskirts.

Downstairs, the smell of pancakes and bacon filled the air. Her parents greeted her from the table with encouraging smiles. Claire could have almost preferred that they looked as agitated as she felt. Weren't they feeling this disaster as deeply as she was?

"Good morning, Claire," Jonathan Kent said pleasantly. "Ma made your favorite—blueberry pancakes."

Claire smiled tightly. "Thanks, Dad. They smell delicious."

Despite the smiles, they spoke very little. The only thing Claire could think about was the shower awaiting her at school. Was this going to be her life now? One embarrassing moment after another?

From the table, Claire went directly to the street. Near the town’s center, Claire noticed an out-of-state car turn the wrong way on a one-way street and blundered into the path of an oncoming car going thirty. 

At super speed, Claire could have stopped the accident, except that an inner voice spoke up, saying, “It’s not your concern.” And then cars collided. 

Claire held her reactive grimace all the way to school. She kept trying to force her anger at the world to the front of her mind, so she could forget about the unnecessary collision she could have prevented.

“Damn it!” she asked herself. “Why should any of this be my responsibility?”

The girl drifted into the morning class, preoccupied. With her first step into the room, Claire felt a tug at her waist; a second step brought on disaster. With a loud rip, the skirt was torn from around her waist and Claire Kent was left standing in plain sight, bare below the waist. Everyone could see her bright red spanky and her bare legs. Her skirt had caught on an insufficiently driven nail on the door frame. 

Laughter irrupted. Claire stood frozen with every eye fixed upon her. She quickly grabbed the torn skirt from the exposed nail and wrapped it around her waist like a towel. Her glance fixed on Pete Ross across the room. He was laughing at her, too!

Claire darted out of the classroom and, with blurring speed, reached home in seconds. She felt the tickle of tears on her cheeks. Tears! 

She gritted her teeth. Tears were for girls!

And in no way in the world was she -- was he -- a girl!

 TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 3

The New Girl in Smallville by Christopher Leeson

 

 

THE NEW GIRL IN SMALLVILLE

by Christopher Leeson

 

Part One

Jonathan and Martha Kent cleaned up their basement on Sunday morning. No casual visitor would have noticed that a secret exit was concealed there. Their adopted son, Clark Kent, used a tunnel to enter and leave the family home unobserved.

The sudden pivot of the trapdoor and the familiar blur of a figure in red and blue scarcely surprised the elderly couple. Mrs. Kent called out over her shoulder, "Just in time to help, Superboy!" 

"Jehoshaphat!" Jonathan cried out. "That isn't our son!"

Martha swung about and gaped with alarm. An unknown girl, not their adopted son, had alighted in front of the Kents. She stated in a shaky voice, "Yes, Dad, it's still me! Mentally at least!" 

The old people barely grasped the meaning of the girl’s words and continued to stare uncomprehendingly. The girl had long black hair and stood with clenched fists. Her garment was a blue and red action outfit like Superboy’s, but the form-fitting fabric made her maidenly outline unmistakable. 

"You'd better explain yourself, young lady!" said Pa Kent.

And the unknown girl let loose with a hurried cascade of words that were hard to follow.

“It's me, Dad,. I'm Clark!" the stranger said. “Something’s happened!”

“Is something wrong with your mind?” Jonathan asked sternly. 

The unknown girl let loose a hurried cascade of words. She declared that she had been patrolling as Superboy near the foothills of Colorado when a small spacecraft broke through the afternoon cloud cover. His supervision revealed that the only occupant was a single female pilot who looked to be in distress. Her craft suddenly nosedived toward the rough country on its trajectory. 

When it came to saving lives, Superboy didn't discriminate against alien beings. He darted ahead to pulverize the rocks looming in the way of the small ship’s flight path.

Afterward, the pilot managed a shaky landing. This was the first female space pilot Superboy had ever encountered. How ironic it was that immediately after her arrival, she was living up to the stereotype of “a woman driver.” 

The exit hatch peeled open, and the pilot, looking remarkably human, came out. She wasn't limping and didn’t seem to be in pain. Her very short dress was, interestingly, in style with the times on Earth. She wore what was currently being called a “mini dress.” It was hardly becoming worn by a woman who looked to be about forty by Earth standards. 

Instead of being frightened by circumstances, the stranger looked angry. "My name is Shar-La,” she stated harshly. “I am an administrator of authority in the world where I come from. We are a telepathic race, and I have overheard your rude and demeaning thoughts. I demand an apology for your false and unwarranted opinions. 

Superboy briefly frowned, surprised and annoyed that she was mind-reading him. His intervention had saved her life, and all that mattered to her was her low opinion of her fashion taste? 

“Lady, please do not invade my mind. On this planet, such an action is considered discourteous.

"Another insult!" she declared! Your mind tells me that this is a barbarian world where men have usurped women’s right of primacy and dominance. Your culture offends me and I wish to depart from such a place as soon as as possible!"

“You shouldn't be calling people you don't know barbarians,” said Superboy. "In this world, we accept and respect other people's ways. We have many different cultures, and respecting one another allows our many cultures to live together peacefully!"

Apparently, the woman did not respect backtalk. She started shouting not with her mind but with her voice, using an unearthly language. Suddenly, Shar-La lifted her fist toward Superboy and projected light rays from a finger ring she wore. Clark, feeling nothing, stood his ground, unafraid of a mere beam of light. 

"If you’re attempting to injure me," he said, "it won’t work. I can only be injured by a mineral called Kryptonite. Now, I have to ask, are you all right? Will you need further assistance?”

"A woman needs no help from any man,” declared Shar-La. “It's men who need help from women, as you will soon be hoping from helf from me!"

Superboy sighed at her illogical statement. If women like her ruled a planet, he felt sorry for any men who lived there!

“You appear to be fine, ma’am,” the superhero stated. "If you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way. I have a good deal to do before darkness falls.

“Go then!" she declared. "And as we say on our world, ‘May you have an interesting life!’”

Clark Kent leaped into the air. Meetings with alien beings were often hostile, but always interesting. How strange it was that this alien had wanted to quarrel right out of the gate. He thought he had been right to break off the contact.

For several minutes Superboy soared west, surveying the ground for problems or people in danger. Suddenly, he saw his reflection below in a mountain lake....

Only it wasn’t his reflection.

The mountain reflected a flying girl wearing a super costume like his. Superboy descended for a better look, and it took only seconds before he realized that the reflection was his own! He gasped. Unless he had lost his mind, he his reflection was the image of a teenage girl in a suit like his, her long, black hair blowing behind her.

Superboy halted in mid flight. What he was seeing had to be an illusion produced by Shar-La’s telepathic ability! He touched his chest and was shocked. He touched elsewhere, too, and realized that his body had either physically changed, or else Shar-La had implanted into his mind the delusion that he looked like a girl!

He first tried to banish the illusion with the force of his will, but when that had no effect, he decided to fly back to Shar-La immediately and make her stop whatever she was doing!

Superboy's return consumed only seconds, but when he reached the pulverized hilltop, Shar-La and her ship were absent. Clark did a super-scan of the sky, but couldn’t see her craft within thousands of miles of the hilltop. Then he looked landward, for hundreds of miles in all directions, his view unobstructed by hills and mountains, but caught no sight of her! If the witch from space had already left Earth’s vicinity, how in thunder could he track her down?

 

He fought against panic. This had to be an illusion. And the best way to prove that was to speed home where he could find people he could trust to look at him with fresh eyes.

#

In the Kents’ basement, the girl ended her story, saying, “Please tell me that I don't see what I see when I look into a mirror!”

"I’m sorry, son," said Clark’s mother," but from what Pa and I see, it looks like we'll have to get used to having a daughter!"

"Mom!" Clark exclaimed. "If that's a joke, it's not a good one!"

“Don’t be upset, darling,” Martha urged. “Maybe the light that beastly person struck you with will wear off like Kryptonite. You have to remain confident that you'll be yourself by morning.”

“What if I'm not myself?”

“If that happens, we’ll all have to do some hard thinking.”

“I can't show myself to people looking this way!" Clark declared.

Martha thought for a moment. “That's true. If it persists and you have to go out, you’ll have to present yourself in a new assumed identity. You'll have to claim to be a young relative of ours who's come on a visit. You’ll need proper clothing, though, and work out a story to explain why you're here. But whatever happens, we don't dare panic. You must not do anything that will expose your secret identity.”

“Mom! This is something that has to be fixed, not just explained away!”

“Like I said, it might fix itself. But until that happens, you have to appear to be an ordinary girl. Especially at school.”

“Martha,” her startled husband finally joined in. “If Clark stays this way for very long, people will ask us what happened to Clark. If people become suspicious, the police might be called in. We have to be ready with appropriate answers.”

Mrs. Kent sighed. “I suppose we can say that Clark has gone east to visit one of your brothers, and that... this person is his daughter, who is visiting us in return.”

Jonathan Kent thought hard. "We can say that my brother is in need of a sturdy boy like Clark to help him do a man's job at his home. And we can say that the reason he's sent us his girl is so she can do Clark’s work at the store.”

“That makes sense. It should gain us some time,” said Martha.

"It will, but only a few weeks at best. If Clark doesn't return, people are going to start to wonder. We may  to leave Smallville then. It will mean breaking all local ties and setting up a new identity elsewhere, as a couple with a daughter, not a son."

"I don’t want this to turn our whole life upside down!" said Clark.

“Your father may be right,” said Martha. “What makes things even worse is that some people may get curious as to why Superboy has disappeared at the same time Clark has. The fallout might expose your super identity.” 

“This is a disaster,” declared the brunette teen.

#

“Okay, everyone must stay calm," suggested Mrs. Kent. "The best way to address a big problem is to take it one step at a time. If you have to impersonate a girl cousin, Clark, you have to start immediately. For one thing, we need to get you girl's clothing.”

“I don’t like the sound of this,” said Clark.

Martha went to a drawer and took out a measuring tape. Soon, provided with Clark’s new measurements, she went shopping. It was mid-afternoon before Martha returned with the start of Clark's new wardrobe.

Looking into the bags with super vision, the girl didn’t like what he saw.

“If you aren't yourself by morning," Clark’s mother explained, “we’ll have to register you with the school as a new student, just as a precaution. If it goes that far, you will have to wear dresses to school because of the dress code."

"I hope it doesn't come to that," said her daughter.

“But the way I came up with a new name for your new identity. Claire. You should pose as our niece, the daughter of your uncle Burt."

“Claire?” the girl echoed, wrinkling her nose. Then she shrugged. “Well, what does it matter? Names are the least of our problems.” Then Claire looked with special distaste at a flat box with a clear cellophane window. The sight of a white brassiere in it soured the girl’s expression. 

"It may take you a while to get used to wearing skirts and dresses, so you need to start getting used to them before you attend school.”

Claire could only give a woeful head-shake.

Matha led the gloomy girl upstairs to help her dress. Holding up on of the skirts, a pink one, Claire said, "I can't wear my super suit under a dress! The pants legs will show."

Martha crossed her arms, considering. "That’s true. Maybe I should alter your super suit by removing the pants legs. We really only need to keep the red trunks. Do you want me to get to work at the alteration?"

"Not yet! Maybe this—whatever it is—will soon be wearing off."

"Hopefully it will, but until it does, we can make do. You can wear a pair of bright red spanky pants. They will resemble your super trunks. Girl athletes wear them all the time. Just remember, they won't be indestructible so you'll need to be careful not to burn or tear them."

Claire's face contorted with misery.

“And we’ll have to get you a new pair of girl-style glasses,” Martha continued. “You don’t need prescription lenses, so any second-hand spectacles from the thrift-shop will serve. You'll just have to avoid projecting your heat vision through them. They won't be invulnerable like the lenses we made from your spaceship's windows.”

"I think I’m going to be too sick to attend school this fall," Claire grumbled.

#

When her girl's sartorial change was accomplished, Martha stood back to take in it overall effect. "I’m encouraged," she said. “You look very normal. If anyone looks at you twice, it will only be because you’re so pretty.”

“Mom! Please don’t talk like you’re enjoying this!”

“I’m not enjoying any part of this disaster. I’m just glad that it seems to be possible to set up a new identity for you. And if I'm not mistaken, Lana Lang could help us.”

“How?”

“We'll tell her you're our niece. She’ll be glad to introduce you to her friends at school, and that will make things easier for you.”

"Ma, I already know all the kids at school!" Claire protested.

“I know you do, honey. But Claire Kent has to act as if she's meeting them for the first time.”

“I suppose so,” Claire sighed.

Lana Lang arrived just a few minutes after Mrs. Kent phoned her, excited to meet the new girl in the neighborhood. After she and Lana spoke for a few minutes, the red-headed schoolgirl urged Claire come over to her house and see her things.

When Claire glanced uncertainly toward her mother, Martha encouraged her to go with Lana, but to be back by suppertime. She invited Lana to dine, too, but their neighbor declined. She still had some unfinished homework.

#

When Claire came back she was scowling. “When did Lana's conversation get so boring? Boys! Fashion! Singers. Dull LPs. If I'm condemned to listen to girl-talk for the rest of my life, I'll go crazy!” 

In reply, Mrs. Kent only sighed. As the family ate, Martha suggested a plan for the day ahead. "Tomorrow morning, we'll go over to the high school and get you registered for classes.
After that, we’ll hurry off to Metropolis. The selection is better there and you need plenty more clothing. On top of that, we need things for your room. We need to make it look like we weren't taken by surprise at having a girl visitor."

"Are you supposing that I'll look like this for a long time to come?"

"I hope you don't, Claire, but we can't leave anything to chance."

Okay,” Claire grumbled. “I'll hide my old stuff away in one of those rooms I added to the tunnel last year.”

#

Arriving at school at eight sharp. Martha introduced Claire to the principal and filled out the paperwork to enroll her as a student. The secretary estimated that Claire would be able to start school before the end of the week. 

Afterward, Martha drove Claire off to Metropolis, Missouri. The two of them shopped at a hectic pace. Mrs. Kent bought things both new and used. It would not look good if all of Claire's things looked like they were fresh from the store. Also, the thrift stores had many things that would look appropriate in a girl's room. As the busy day wore on, Martha noticed that Claire was gradually becoming less self-conscious about going about town wearing a white blouse and pink skirt. 

At a sports supply store, Martha bought Claire three pairs of bright red spankies. The boxes were decorated with images of cheerleaders. Claire sighed when the garments were placed on the checkout desk.

But Mrs. Kent had seen Claire react even more strongly whlen she picked up a basic makeup kit. The girl seemed to like lipstick even less than she did bras. But it couldn't be helped. Girls' Claire's age wore makeup, and the young Miss Kent would stand out if she didn't do as they did. 

On the drive back from the city, the mother and daughter worked out more details about Claire’s imaginary background.

Martha proposed a scenario in which Clark had gone to help his widowed uncle remodel his and Claire's home. Burt, being a retired former contractor, needed a helper stronger and more sturdy than his own daughter. Claire, in turn, would help Jonathan at the store. 

Claire suggested that she could publicly announce that she was Superboy’s sister, who had been raised on a different planet. She could claim that while she visited Earth, Superboy would stay on her own planet to protect it while she was absent.

“What will you call yourself?  Supergirl?” asked Martha.

Claire shook her head. “‘Supergirl’ sounds like a silly name. I need to think of something better.”

“Like what?" her mother inquired.

 "I'm not sure. I hate the idea of losing Superboy," the teen replied gloomily.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2

Eerie, Arizona, A song by Christopher Leeson

 

Posted 4-6-25

Revised 4-25-25

 NOTE: Several Eerie, Arizona stories are posted here at TFTGS; others will be found at Fictionmania and Big Closet.  Go to the bottom of this article for an extra feature.

 

EERIE, ARIZONA, A Song

By Christopher Leeson

 

 

Chorus: 

Gather 'round and hear a story

Of justice strange and statutory

In the southwest territory,

Eerie, Arizona!

 

 

 

What do they do with their owlhooters?

Some are killers, all are looters!

How do they handle rude freebooters,

Eerie, Arizona?

 

Turn them into gals with angel faces.

Put them in stays with whalebone braces;

Teach them to walk with lady's graces,

Eerie, Arizona! 

 

 

 

 

 

Chorus:

Dance, my pretty one, I do love thee,

More than all the stars above me.

You own my heart, so why not love me,

Eerie, Arizona?

 

 

 

 

 

How d'ya tame them? They're plum crazy!

How d'ya stop them being lazy? 

Or make them sweeter than a daisy?

Eerie, Arizona!  

Ride 'em like broncos till they're broken.

Stop their cussing, spitting, smoking!

Soap and scrub them till their soaken,

Eerie, Arizona!
 

 

 

Chorus:

A gal can change when she's love-bitten.

Wild cats become like kittens,

Warmer than a pair of mittens,

Eerie, Arizona!

 

 

 

 

 

 Jane's the one I find best looking;

Love her laughter, love her cooking!

 She's got stays that need unhooking,

 Eerie, Arizona! 

 

My Jane's soul is warm and tender.

When she's troubled, I defend her!

 She likes the place where I can send her,

Eerie, Arizona!

Chorus:

Speak of love, my fair-haired beauty.

Flash me smiles; don't be moody.

I need your lips, so fresh and fruity,

Eerie, Arizona! 

 

 

 

 

 

  

I'm for the one that they call Jessie;

 She makes trouble, things get messy.

 I adore her hair so tressy,

 Eerie, Arizona! 

 

 Jessie is Shamus' canary,

 But she's sly and so contrary.

 Bless the man she'll take to marry,

 Eerie, Arizona!  

 

 

Chorus:

Hey there, girlie, let's be wedded;

We'll change your name before you're bedded.

Our youngsters all will be towheaded,

Eerie, Arizona!

 At Shamus' place, Bridget's the dealer.

 She's been hurt, but love can heal her.

 Cuss the card sharks who would steal her,

 Eerie, Arizona!

 

Bridget knows the rules of Hoyle.

 As a friend, she's always loyal!

 For that gal I'd work and toil,

 Eerie, Arizona!

 

Chorus: 

Cuddle up, belle, and call me "dearest."

Speak your whims, even the merest.

Say dirty words, no one can hear us,

Eerie, Arizona! 

 

 Laura was the first gal married.

 When to bedroom she was carried,

 Her outlaw days were dead and buried,

 Eerie, Arizona!

  

 I like Laura's strength and stature;

 No one but me can ever match her.

 Where she itches, I can scratch her,

 Eerie, Arizona!

 

Chorus:

Love me true and I'll be faithful.

Let's not fight, or say things hateful.

Life is sweet; we should be grateful,

Eerie, Arizona!  

It's Maggie who most stirs my passion,

An icon dressed in Spanish fashion.

I love the way she cooks my ration.

Eerie, Arizona. 

 

Maggie's nature's soft as butter.

Once a pa, she's now a mother.

Her tender voice makes hard hearts flutter,

Eerie, Arizona.  

 

 Cat House Wilma, hot and purdy,

 Thrills men like a hurdy-gurdy.

 She breaks hearts, but mine is sturdy,

 Eerie, Arizona!

 Wilma wears what's scant and naughty;

 In men's arms she's always bawdy.

 Her promises aren't worth a zloty, 

 Eerie, Arizona!

Chorus:

Shamus' girls are like no others,

Nuggets like those found at Sutter's.

The way they love hard will make them mothers, 

Eerie, Arizona!

 

End

EXTRA FEATURE

 

The poem above was written before some new potion girls made their debut in our stories. Here we are presenting a picture of each, with a brief description:

 

 

Elmer O'Hanlan was a school boy injured by a runaway wagon. His wounds would have been fatal except that Shamus O'Toole saved him by mean of the magic potion. His mother called her new daughter Emma. Emma hated her fate, but as time went on, she started to feel her girlhood strongly. An excellent student, Emma graduated early and became a surveyor's helper.
 

Patrick O'Hanlan was Elmer's father.   When the boy refused to take the magic potion, his father pretended to take the potion with her. This ruse led to disaster when the strong medicine started Pat choking and he swallowed the dose. He took the form of a beautiful cigar box card model who had a man-hungry look. Pat received not only her appearance, but also the cigar girl's promiscuous ways.

Arnaldo Diaz was a sad sack of a boy damaged by his father's early death. He was heading for an empty life of idle drunkenness when he drank from a bottle of Shamus' magic potion, mistaking it for whiskey. He became the image of his favorite girl, the Virgin Mary. 

Arnoldo adopted the name of Annie. By some strange chemistry, his attitude toward life improved in girlhood, especially after meeting a handsome boy from a good family.

 

Forry Stafford was the spoiled son of a land baron of East Texas. In childhood, he became a bully who liked tormenting Will and Jesse Hanks. Jesse drifted away, but Forry made life hard for Will. When a threat arose from Eerie, Forry was sent West to deal with it. He ambushed the enemy, but was captured by the law. Forry and his accomplice were sentenced to take the magic potion. Forry became Flora and Shamus had both rascals trained to be cancan girls.

Leland Saunders was a poor Texas white doing dirty jobs for the sinister Staffords. He joined Forry's ambush plot, but was arrested and sentenced to receive the magic potion. But because Leland had an erotic fixation on black girls, his female form was black. Renamed "Lilah," she was trained to be a cancan dancer, one who developed a strong attraction for black men. 

Myron Caldwell was an Eerie area farm boy traumatized by the sudden death of his parents. Embittered, he became a delinquent who ran away at 16 to join an outlaw gang. He led the gang back to rob the Eerie stage, but was shot. Bleeding, he made his way to his aunt's house. She took him to the doctor, who saw that nothing could save the boy's life except the magic potion. Myron took the shape of the cancan girl he knew in Yuma. Myron's aunt gave her new niece the name of Myra.

 

THE DARK OF THE MOON: JOSETTE'S STORY, Part Five by Christopher Leeson

 

JOSETTE’S STORY, Chapter 5

By Christopher Leeson

Over the next three days, the Josette and Darrell were seen together around the school frequently. At each meeting, Darrell looked and sounded more relaxed. But Josette knew that other people—including Josie's friends—were watching them, too.

 When a couple of girls from the in-crowd cornered her, she had no choice but to talk to them politely, but they only chattered about what the “group” was doing. Being around people who knew Josie so well tied Josette into knots. In contrast, she felt at ease around Darrell.

#

On the fourth day, near the end of school, Josette saw Leah near her locker; Leah smiled oddly. The honey blonde came up wearing a short miniskirt and a sleeveless top. Josette pretended to admire her fashion while getting a good, long look at Leah’s shapely legs.

"Hey Jo, I've been wondering why you've come back from summer vacation as if you turned into a whole different person."

"I find it exhausting to fuss over fashion every day. Really, what’s so important about material things?"

"Who are you and what have you done with Josie?” Leah asked.

The question startled Josette. “What do you mean?”

“Why is fashion suddenly not important to you? Have you had a stroke or something?”

Josette eyed her coolly. “Leah, what specific topic requires discussion?”

Leah wrinkled her nose as if smelling something that she didn’t care for. "We need to talk seriously. You’ve been staying off by yourself lately unless you’re slumming with that nerd, Darrell. The entire school is wondering what’s with you."

“Groups such as ours must be careful to maintain impeccable reputations.”

Josette scowled. "Why can’t I be friends with anyone I want to?"

“Don’t you remember you gave your oath to the group to think and act just like them?”

That used to work; however, we’re maturing. Maybe we’re coming under different rules now.”

Leah looked like she’d been stung by a wasp. “Chill out, Josie! I’m giving you the advice you need to salvage your reputation! Maybe it’s not your fault. Maybe you had a heat stroke last summer! No error is worse than a social misstep. Don’t you see that hanging with the wrong people is going to turn into the wrong person yourself? Have you had a medical checkup lately? Like with a psychiatrist?”

“Leah, that remark is unkind. There’s nothing wrong with me, except I’ve tried to be a kid for too long. Global fashion, parties, and musical tastes don’t add up to much. With Darrell, I’m learning how to play strategic war games. I’m getting pretty good at it!”

Leah looked incredulous. “I hope you’re only going through a phase. If you don’t come up for air, you’re going to be voted out of your social circle, and people will freeze you out!”

“You’re talking about canceling me? Great! Cancellation would be better than dealing with all this bullying!”

Leah blinked in surprise. “You won’t make me angry, Josie. Even if you won’t admit it, I know something is bothering you. This isn’t the real you. I'm still holding out the hope that I’ll soon have my best friend back. When you decide you need help, just say you’re sorry and we can build back better.”

“I might do that,” said Josette, “but don’t rush me. I’m still on vacation.”

Leah, shaking her head, flounced away.

“Damn those snobs!” Josette muttered to herself. “They really are going to cancel me!”

While she didn’t exactly care for the idea of being rejected in scorn, if Josie’s old gang cut her out of the herd, she at least wouldn’t have to listen to their silliness.

Josette had promised to link up with Darrell after school for sodas. She found him waiting for her on the driveway at the parking lot.

Darrell peered at her through narrowed eyes. "Everything ok, Josie? “You have a funny expression.”

“I’m fine. It’s just that Leah said something mean to me.”

“Did she get catty about something?”

“No, but we don’t see eye to eye anymore. I’m almost eighteen, and my outlook is changing. It’s time for me to turn a page, and the gang doesn’t understand that.”

Darrell nodded sympathetically. "Do you still feel like grabbing that soda?"

Josette managed a smile. "Now more than ever!"

At the cafe, Darrell’s stream of jokes soon had her laughing again. Darrell seemed preoccupied. Finally, he asked her, “Maybe we can go to the movies together this weekend?”

Josette didn’t think twice before agreeing, as Loren and Darrell had been to the movies together many times. “Sure, I want us to relate to one another as friends.”

"So do I!" Darrell said quickly. Too quickly.

So they took a lunch downtown and then took in the seven o’clock showing. Unfortunately, the movie thumped and thudded. Neither of them liked woke movies. A newly graduated female officer, this film’s protagonist, demonstrated better skills and instincts than the station’s most seasoned officers. The film’s men were either creepy or inept. A series of unlikely events carried the viewers to credits, where the May Sue rookie found a man she could trust—a downtown troublemaker long under the watchful eye of the law.

They each bought candy before leaving the theater, needing to get the film’s bad taste out of their mouths. “One would think that a cop movie would be pretty based,” Darrell apologized.

“Don’t sweat it,” said Josette. “These days, only the classics are worth watching. You know what you’re getting in the older stuff. There are thousands of old films on Roku channels I haven’t watched yet.”

“Maybe we can watch a few together,” Darrell suggested.

“Yeah, maybe. But don’t push events too fast, Darrell. I’m not ready for anything serious.”

“I swear,” he promised without enthusiasm.

Days of classes and activities followed. She was no longer being approached by the group, and she supposed she’d been canceled. She learned of her social expulsion only through the gang’s silence. Even Leah, who had claimed to want to fix things, did not come near her.

Josette shrugged off her social problems. She only wished she had broken with them first. But with so much on her mind, she had stopped obsessing about the next dark moon. But the dark of the moon hadn’t forgotten about her. It slammed into her on the next evening after the movie trip. The next thing she knew, she lay on her mattress, looking at the ceiling.

Sitting up, Josette noticed that Loren’s posters of comic book heroes had returned to the walls. It took only seconds longer to realize that she wasn’t a she anymore. She—he—was Loren again!

Loren let his head fall back, and he exhaled a moan of relief. The spell really had been temporary. The whole time, he feared the instruction sheet was nonsense and lived in fear of being a girl for life.

That didn’t happen.

So, now, what—?


#

Loren fell asleep where he lay and awoke before sunup. He examined himself again, double-checking to see that his restored maleness hadn’t been a dream.

The youth lay there until the sun was almost up, thinking. His girl-experience was sharp in every detail; it was nothing like a dream. He had been hooked into something weird and crazy, but now it seemed to be over.

His life was once more on track.

He had come back from Crazy Land, and it felt good to be able to wear male clothes without looking silly in them. His mother didn’t so much as blink when he walked into the kitchen as a boy. But after a couple of days, Loren realized he was once more tracking through the mire of a very dull world.

At school, Darrell came over and said, “Hi, Loren,” and then continued down the hall. It soon became plain that absolutely no one remembered Josette. Nothing was left of her, except the memories that Loren carried with him.

But in talking to the few friends he had, he had been around as a boy for the whole of the last month. Weird! The next time he was together with Darrell, he asked leading questions, trying to find out whether his best bud remembered doing things with him as Loren over the past month.

He did. Like, they'd gone to that dumb cop movie, and neither of them had liked it.

Maybe he felt a little less bad about being a social failure. When given the chance to be one of the school’s social in-crowd, he had rejected the idea. He had found out that the friends he had in this life were also the friends he wanted in Josette’s life. But why was he a social failure in his life, and Josie had been a social butterfly in hers? He couldn’t think of any way that Josie was better than he was, except that she had an angel face and a killer body.

Maybe the major differences between him and Josie was that Loren knew that his life was empty, and Josie hadn’t figured that out about hers. Outwardly, she was full of life and fun, but Loren could see that her world was nothing but a pillowcase stuffed with feathers. Another difference between them was that Josie’s life was heading for a fall. In contrast, Loren felt like his life had already fallen.

Also, he wondered what Josette might be doing just then in her own world. He wondered what would have happened to him by now if he had stayed in Josette's pantyhose a little longer.

With the new moon drawing nigh, Loren entered a strange state of mind. He caught himself contemplating the fact that, according to the instruction sheet, he could become Josette again and pick up the adventure where it had left off.

But, no, that was crazy! Some mistake or some freak accident could trap him in Girl World forever. If so, what would his life become then?

He thought girls could have fun, like the old song said. But he didn’t like to think about the fate of livers doing the girl thing. It seemed like girls got the best things in life until they got to be about thirty. For a guy, he rarely had anything to boast about until he passed thirty.

But there was one thing that he didn't like about Josette's life. And that thing was the tenseness of her relationship with Darrell.

Loren knew very well that no normal guy could hang close to a hot girl and not think about sex. Even if Josette had liked boys, Darrell was off limits in that department. Romancing his close friend would have been like romancing one's brother! If Darrell pushed too hard, it could ruin their friendship. If Josette hadn't had Darrell, she'd have been up the creek and all alone. But Loren didn't blame his bud for getting hot and bothered around Josette. In Darrell’s shoes, Loren would have felt, and wanted, the same things he did.

But as the days rolled on and the new moon edged closer, Loren couldn’t get the magic oil out of his mind. He tried to fight off the silly—and dangerous—ideas he was having.

But when the hour of the new moon arrived, without making a certain decision to do so, he touched an oiled Q-Tip to his left arm.

#

Josette awoke the next morning. She got out of bed and could once more admire the sexy pajamas she was wearing. When Mrs. Melford called her down for breakfast, she ate breakfast in a semi-daze, saying little. Once at school, Josette’s attitudes and outlooks returned to her. Only, on this second time around, she felt a little more confident and daring.

But Josette had popped back into Josie's hide in the middle of the school week, and so she drove to Westbrook High wearing a short skirt and blouse. As she parked, she saw Darrel approaching. He waved and shouted, "Josette!”

“Hi,” she replied.

"I missed you!" said Darrell.

“Missed me? Did I disappear for a month or something?”

“What are you talking about?"

“When did we last see each other?”

“What’s with you? Don’t you remember giving me a ride home yesterday after school?”

“Oh, yeah! Sorry. You know how it is! Girls always get forgetful during their time of the month!”

“I never heard they did,” Darrell replied.

“We do, but we don’t like to talk about it.”

After school, they took malts together. Darrell kept suggesting things they could do together over the next few days.

Some things she agreed to do. And she did them. Now that she had actually chosen to be a girl for another month, Josette lost her uptight reluctance to show off her sumptuous skin. She started looking at her wardrobe as if she was a co-star on Unhappily Ever After, wearing things that were bright-colored, tight, and short.

But dressing that way made the boys more interested in her. A lot of them started acting squirrelly around her. They seemed to want to speak to her, but got so tongue-tied that she couldn’t understand what they were saying half the time. The worst boys were the pushy ones, always wanting her to take her places. This made her remember how some girls complained they didn't dare go anywhere alone because the boys would come at them like bees came at flowers. That was why girlfriends or a steady boy were a necessity for them.

Her solution was to hang steady with Darrell. That worked out fine, and it was on her suggestion that they went to the beach together on Saturday.

When they hit the sand, Josette attracted many a longing male glance. She was a bikini in public for the first time, though she had tried on every swimsuit Josie had in private. The one she took with her to the beach was a Rio-cut number decorated with a stained-glass-type pattern.

The other girls at the beach were less readable than the boys, and they didn’t smile her way. She was making them jealous, and that made her laugh inside. She especially liked making the hot chicks feel peeved because of the shabby way they had treated Loren!

"Doesn’t all this attention make you uncomfortable?" Darrell asked.

“Do you want me to show less?” she asked him.

“Oh, God, no! The sight of you drives me out of my mind! And I love the feeling!”

“That’s nice, Darrell, but don’t take that feeling to any place crazy. It might hurt our friendship.”

Darrell winced. "It’s hard not to be creepy around you, Josette. My temperature goes up every time I look at you."

Josette regarded him wryly. “I’m nothing special. Look around. Almost every female with sand on her feet is wearing a bikini. Some even have string bikinis on.”

“Since we’ve arrived, I haven’t looked at anybody but you.”

“Don’t get too intense, Darrell. Intensity makes me jumpy.”

“Say now! I’m getting a little confused about what our relationship is.”

“Whatever it is, do you like it?”

“I like parts of it.”

“Don't tell me about the parts that you don’t like. It might be embarrassing.”

“You’re a hard girl to understand.”

“That must be true.”

The two of them started talking about new war game releases under the shade of a beach umbrella, but the more they conversed, the more their unspoken tension mounted.

Just then, a mob of about a half dozen teen boys came over, their flesh darkened by twelve summer weeks out in the sun. Some of them looked buff.

“Say, babe,” one of them called. “Come out into the light and bloom. I’d like you to join our volleyball game?”

Josette looked his way. “Count me out! Me and my man are having a deep conversation here!”

“I bet nothing about his nerd goes deep except his conversation!” said a boy who had a deep tan, but who needed a haircut.

“Hey!” said Darrell, belatedly exerting himself. “If you need an interpreter, the lady has just said she doesn’t want to play volleyball with you!”

One volley ball player looked his way. “With girls, ‘no’ always means ‘maybe.’”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” said Josette.

One of the beach guys reached out for Josette. “We’ve got some gals on the team. You’ll fit right in. You’ll be our secret weapon. With the best players on the other side all looking at you and not the ball, we’ll waste them!” He reached out to help her stand up.

Josette slapped his hand away.

It was Darrell who got up so he could shove the pushy guy away from his girlfriend. “Why don’t you sand ticks take off?” he asked.

The guy smirked and gave Darrell a shove. He toppled backwards and struck and sand. When he got up, he started throwing punches. Josette had never seen Darrell start a fight before. And he wasn't very good as a brawler.

The teammates crowded up and formed a ring around Darrell. They pushed him back and forth between them. Josette leaped up and started punching, too. One volleyball guy grabbed Josette’s waist and hoisted her, belly down, over his shoulder.

Some others couldn’t resist touching her legs, her sides, and her bikini’d bottom. That’s when Darrell got serious about slugging. Unfortunately, the interlopers smuggled back. Darrell was soon beaten to his knees.

“Cut that rough stuff out!” shouted a mature male voice. “Put that girl down this minute, buddy!”

In answer, Josette was plopped down on her feet. She staggered a few steps and saw that the intervening tough guy was the lifeguard on duty.

“We were just asking her to play volleyball,” a teen said.

The guard looked her way. “Do you want to play volleyball with them, Miss?” the lifeguard asked.

“I told them I didn’t want to,” she answered back.

“That’s it, then,” said the guard. “Get back to your net before I have to boot the pack of you off the beach for the rest of the weekend!”

“Let’s go,” said one of the mob. “Don’t waste time with the little blonde. She’s stuck up!”

A half a minute later, Darrell and Josette were left standing alone. The male half of their duo didn’t look happy.

“Don’t wear such a long face,” Josette urged.

“All I managed to do was to get pushed around.”

“You did your best and that makes me think you’re pretty damned great!”

Darrell sighed. “I never had to defend a lady before.”

“I hope you learned something you can use the next time,” the girl said.

“Hey,” said Darrell, “instead of hanging with these sun-worshipers, why don’t we get together with my war-game group? We always try to meet on Saturday night. You mentioned before that you're interested in war gaming.”

“I am! Just thinking about doing Advanced Third Reich with five different generals makes me hot!”

“Maybe you can take one of the easy armies, like Italy or France?”

“Hell no! I want to driving panzers into Russia!”

“Okay then! Super!” exclaimed Darrell, his eyes brightening.

#

Loren already knew Darrell’s gamer buddies and prepared a treat for them. She knew every war gamer wished they could bring hot girls into their gaming circle. When she drove Darrell to the meeting place, she was wearing a tight tee with shorts that were even tighter.

The gamers welcomed Josette with eyes wide open, falling all over one another with gallantry. Unlike the beach posers, they were scrupulously polite and treated her like a princess. This was the right sort of crowd for Josette. They were all cut from the same cloth, sharing interests in fantasy movies and books. The boys continually stole glances at her chest and her legs, but Josette understood boys too well to be offended.

#

When she drove Darrell home, he wasn’t as usual good-natured self as he usually was after a gaming session. She avoided asking questions before dropping him off, but at the zoo the next day, Darell's frustrations spilled over. "I don’t think that you’re taking our relationship seriously," he blurted.

 

"What? Where is this coming from?"

 

"It's been bothering me for a while."

 

"I do take it seriously,” she defensively replied. “Why don’t you say I’m not?”

“Because you never let us talk about important things.”

“Like what?”

“Like, you never said what kind of guy you’d most like to marry?”

“Wow, that’s a subject that’s too heavy for me! I won't be eighteen before next month and I’m living with my mother. I’d like taking a swing at being on my own for a few years before tying myself down with a…a husband.” It was hard for Josette even to pretend to want a husband.

“So, where is our relationship going? Is it even an actual relationship?”

Josette shrugged. Aren’t you having a good time with us dating? But lately you've been looking sour when you should be smiling.”

“I've got a lot on my mind. If we break up, I’m pretty sure I’ll never meet your kind again.”

“’Whoa! Who's talking about breaking up? If we’re really friends, why do we have to break up?”

“If two people aren’t aimed at the same goal post, maybe their relationship doesn’t have a future.”

“I thought I understood guys, but I sure don't understand what you're saying now,” Josette said.

“I don’t think you get how strongly I feel about you, Josette. And the vibes you give off make me think you don’t have any powerful feelings about me.”

“Relationships are evolving things. Don’t you think it’s a little early to be breaking the speed limit? I have strong feelings about you, even if they aren’t romantic. You’re already talking about marriage, but marriage never puts a seal on a relationship. It seems like people can go together for years but suddenly want a divorce a year after they get married. Please, Darrell, don’t rush things.”

“We haven’t even kissed yet.”

“Darrell! What's the big deal about kissing? A kiss can be misunderstood, and misunderstandings can ruin everything.”

“I've been getting the feeling that you're putting me into the 'friend zone.' Girls never treat friend-zone guys seriously.”

“Don’t get mad! If you start hating on me, I’m there's not going to be much left to my life. Why isn’t being friends enough?”

“I’m awfully afraid that you and I don’t want the same thing. Maybe you think we aren’t right for each other.”

Josette gave him a hard look. “If I’m not right for you, who is it you like better?”

“I don’t know anyone else. But you knew that, and you shouldn’t have forced me to say it!”

“Listen to yourself! What do you want from me?”

“We can start with a goodnight kiss,” he suggested.

“That’s nothing! It won't mean anything!”

“It might if it's lips to lips.”

“I hope you’re not thinking of putting your tongue in my mouth.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Get off it! You've never put your tongue into any girl's mouth. Without practice, how do you know you’d be any good at it?”

Darrell reacted wrongly. He shifted and glared toward the monkey cage. “I’m only joking,” Josette said. “But think clearly! We’ve only known each other for less than three months. If you start in a desert, don't you figure it's going to be a long trip to the rain forest?”

Darrell glanced back. “So, what are you saying?”

"I’m not sure. Why are you so adamant about kissing me?”

“Do you seriously not know?” Darrell asked impatiently.

 

“Cross my heart, I don't,” she replied. 

“Stop that! You're making me feel like I’m bullying you.”

“I don't want to call you a bully. I’m just saying we shouldn't change our relationship so soon. A kiss is a big deal and it would change things. Changes are sometimes for the worse. Would you really break up with me over this?” Josette asked.

“Not yet. But I can only wait for so long.”

Frustrated, Josette felt like grabbing and shaking him. Why shouldn't he be satisfied having one of the cutest girls at Westbrook High for a girlfriend? Wasn't he enjoying the prestige that came from hanging with someone as hot as Josette Melford? Why was it that two guys could remain best friends for years, but yet the best guy-girl relationships in the world rarely extended beyond a few weeks?

“You've laid a lot on my platter. I need time to contemplate this," Josette said. "For now, can't we talk about something else? The way we’re going, one of us might say something wrong, and it could be hard to take back.”

“Maybe you’re right. But we need to have a serious discussion soon.”

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Josette. “I’ve got an inkling of an idea,” she said. “It might fix this gnarly little problem we're having. And tell you about it soon, I promise.”

“Whatever you have in store, it has to be big and important. Otherwise, I won't be able to feel that I'm big and important to you,” said Darrell.

“Don’t worry,” Josette replied. “It will be about the biggest thing that's ever happened to you.”

THE END

To continue with the adventures of Josette and Darrell, see “The Dark of the Moon,” already posted here at TFTGS.