My sister had to wear a balloon on her wrist in eighth grade when she turned 13, marking her transition into adolescence. Here I was, a sixteen-year-old used to being a boy. One of the worst parts was boys and girls alike snuck kisses throughout the day. They did it with threats against making PDA, personal displays of affection. After the first two kisses from boys, I was leery of them. Expecting girls to protect me caused me to let down my guard by 10 a.m. I was going crazy wondering who I could trust. It was Jenn who told me, “Relax, it’s a compliment about how popular you’ve become.”

I fired back, “If you remember, I’ve always been shy; popularity wasn’t one of my fantasies!”

After lunch, I was called to the school office and warned, ‘If I didn’t stop flirting and causing the displays of public affection, I would receive demerits for the day and be sent home.’

Yes, I decided to come today as Caryn. Someone surmised that I was looking for this. Come the last two classes, I was given the option of modeling with my balloon for an art class or going home early. I went to the art class thinking it was a joke. Seven girls and three boys sketched me. It turned out to be fun.

Come that evening, my parents had a party for me with friends and family; I received several drawings of me and my balloon as gifts. I received two gift certificates to V.S., one was for a bra fitting. I was angry that someone would give me such a gift. Mom assured me that she didn’t as a gag gift or to embarrass me.

I received a long plaid skirt, of the Miller Plaid, presumably to keep me warm and looking sharp when I traveled to Sarai’s college for a visit. Gary got some clothes, and Dad was giving him the choice of getting a used car. But where we lived, he won’t be able to drive it until he’s taken driver’s education and gotten his license. He wouldn’t get to do that until spring, more likely in April or May.

Sarai and I stepped out of sight of others to have one birthday kiss away from the view of others.

I was packing recklessly as I would be flying out the next evening. It took Katie coming into my room and getting upset with me. “Just because it’s your birthday, it doesn’t give you an excuse to make a mess of packing! How many nights are you going to be gone? ...Three, so at least five pairs of panties and two, no three bras. One day, the temperature got warm up to 50 degrees; two days, the high hardly got to freezing. One large suitcase and your carry-on should be packed well…”

She has knee-high boots next to my bed. I ask, “Whose are those?”

“Thanks to me, you got a nice birthday. Present from Grandmother and Grandfather Miller. You have two pairs of long socks to go with them. Since you’re not used to wearing skirts in the cold weather, everyone thought these might help. They will work nicely with long or mid-length skirts.”

I flopped down on my bed and wanted to cry. Family and friends were being too nice to me. I wanted to try the boots. “You know I should have tried these on; what if they don’t fit?”

Katie gave me a half-hug that I tried to shake off. “Remember the boots you tried on at Macy’s? These are the same boots, but they’re not plain like the ones you tried.” I didn’t have the long socks, but the boots fitted beautifully… They might get too warm on your plane rides, but wearing them saves room and weight.” Mom had looked in, asking how I liked my boots. I don’t think she was surprised that I was wearing them. She also reminded me I owed my grandmother and grandfather a well-written thank you.

It was after midnight by the time I was packed, ready for bed, and had my school work done that I absolutely needed to be handed in.

Our friends were doting on Sarai before her trip. We didn’t tell many, but they joke about me getting to sleep with her. Sarai assured Ashley and Brenda that I was wearing a gaffe glued in place.

I thought the news that I had to sit and wipe was TMI. Once school was over, Katie rushed me home. I had a quick shower, changed into my long plaid skirt along with my new fashion boots. Then I was picked up by the Duvalls.

Mrs. Duvall had checked us through; the biggest time taker was me, having to take off and on my boots, as well as them taking time to check my purse. Mr. Duvall used his flight advantage plan to secure us in business class; the seats were a few inches wider with better foot space. We flew into the Twin Cities and caught a flight to Sioux Falls, South Dakota. We arrived there and were met by the CC Coach from the University. Going out to the university van was cold, very cold, even with the boots and long skirt. We had landed around ten in the evening and were at the university before eleven. Two cross-country members were soon there to greet us and help with luggage. There were four more women by the time we had everything into our dorm suite. Sarai’s Mom and Dad had their own bedroom, as did Sarai and me. There was a common living area and kitchenette as well as nice bathrooms.

One team member, Debora, befriended me, saying she was a sophomore and she’d be a junior when Sarai came; she’d still be a senior if I followed Sarai as a student the following year. Tracy, a junior, said to Sarai. “I hear you technically have enough classes to graduate at the end of this semester. You would be more than welcome to come and begin in January for our second semester.”

Sarai looked to me, and I’m sure I was stunned to hear it. Sarai, in October, confided she might not go out for track in the spring. Now it came flashing back to me. I quickly sat down and quieted myself. Sarai weakly said, “No, I had not thought about that.”

Tracy apologized, hoping she had not upset us. “It’s just starting cross-country during your first semester is a taxing change for many students.”

She looked at me, and for some reason, I spoke up, saying, “I could see that. She is a good student, but we've heard it can still be a hard adjustment.” Inside, I was crying, ‘Keep your hands off her, I want her. September is already too soon.’

The others were filing out, and there was talk about running together tomorrow and/or Saturday. They handed Sarai University workout sweats for her to keep and a clean pair for me to borrow. Most hugged Sarai, and Debora hugged me and said goodnight.

Once they were gone, Sarai apologized to me. “They weren’t supposed to say anything about the spring semester. I’ve barely given it any consideration. It doesn’t take away how precious you are to me.” I could see that Sarai was now tearing up, too. We hugged and cried together.”

We slept until 8:00, but needed to get up and get breakfast. Mrs. Duvall could tell I had cried; I was sure she even knew why. But she put on a stoic face and recited the day’s schedule of touring the campus, meeting with the Admissions people, and a meeting with the Coach and the University President. I was invited to the evening dinner with Coach Deavers and President Hansen. Saturday, there were some informal meetings and more sightseeing. We’d eat with the team and staff. There was a women’s basketball game in the afternoon, and their choir and orchestra had a holiday concert in the evening. We were told they had a fantastic music program.

While many of the buildings were old, there were as many that were not. All of the buildings had state-of-the-art facilities inside. I hadn’t been to too many campuses, but I was impressed by this one. There was modernistic artwork, like some I had seen in New York City. When I commented about that. Someone said, “Nina Abney graduated from here, and she has a studio somewhere in New York. The person commented that she was a black artist. Then I was fairly sure I saw her art in the Hell’s Kitchen area of Manhattan.

I wanted to dislike the university and Sarai going here. But I was liking what I saw. I had not seen the vast fields or barren area of South Dakota; Sioux Falls was a large oasis in light of what I heard.

When the Duvalls went to visit with the Admissions people, I went off with Deb. We got salad for lunch and did a lot of talking. Deb said, “I can tell you are hot for Sarai; would you mind if I asked some sensitive questions?” I agreed.

“I’m correct in assuming you’re still biologically a boy. I’m a biology major, and I was wondering if you had thought of having some of your sperm harvested and frozen for later use. If you’d marry Sarai or another woman, that would allow you to have children as a couple.” She said.

She and I then got into a deeper discussion. I wondered if it was actually plausible. She said it was, but that I should check with my own medical people. I would need to have parental and medical approval. She did say that if I wanted, they could collect some sperm and test it for its viability. I mentioned the glued gaff. With a sinister smile, she said, “We could take care of that, get our sample, and glue back before others knew.”

It was 1:00 p.m., and the Duvalls would be tied up until 2:30. Everything was off the record when pristine Caryn showed her devilish side. It would be good to get off my testosterone blocker, to build an ample supply of those wiggly swimmers. But the swimmers and no other evidence were kept.

Debora and I, and two lab people, had brighter smiles than we did when we did not talk about it to others. I would go back home and approach Dr. Watts about having a proper test taken there.

Sarai and the Duvalls liked the tour of the Campus and the student areas she was interested in. Sarai jumped with enthusiasm, trying to tell me the President and Dean of the University were expected tonight at dinner or tomorrow before the concert to offer her the President’s Scholar award. That, with her sports scholarship, would cover almost everything other than books and supplies.

She was surprised by my change when I jumped and gave her a hug and a kiss. She knew something had changed on my part, but we did not pursue it at that point. I had a dressy blue dress that looked good on me. It wasn’t much, but Mrs. Duvall took me back, saying, “I think it would help you to add a little more color for the evening.” That included makeup, a bracelet, and a necklace.

I was coming to realize there’s more to Sarai, she’s different away from high school, a more sophisticated young woman here. She was able to converse with the other students as well as be comfortable in meeting with the Dean and President of the University.

The evening started informally, the meal was excellent, and the discussion was very warm and affirming of Sarai. And yes, she has been offered the University’s President's Scholarship. Seemingly, they had previously talked with sensitivity to me. “Sarai and I are sensitive to the milestones of a young woman in finishing her high school career. The Spring semester here would end ahead of her graduation ceremony from high school and just in time for her to be able to make her prom.”

I asked about her return at spring break, and the Dean implied that her participation in a spring sport required them to use the break to take part in venues in warmer areas of the country. I turned to Sarai, “It looks like I am losing you earlier than I expected.”

Sarai responded, “Yes, I’ve committed myself to here, but I have not made any decision about coming here next semester. It tears at me to be away from you. I want you to know where I’ll be and some of the people when I come to the university. Mom’s not happy that I’ll be so far away. I feel like I can contribute as well as receive more here than elsewhere.”

We became aware that everyone else became quiet on our account. I look up and around. “I don’t want to lose Sarai, but I can see that she fits here. We’ve talked before about what’s important for her. It now seems a question of whether I lose her next month or in August. I can understand why next month could be important. I’m afraid of a long-distance relationship... Maybe I’m even wrong in thinking we’d remain together.”

The President’s wife said, “We appreciate the friendship you two have. You being here speaks volumes of the friendship both ways.”

I asked, “Would you be upset with Sarai having a relationship with a T-woman?”

“We already have community members of various lifestyles and differing degrees of acceptance within the AU community. One thing we will not tolerate is abuse or bullying within our University, and the Sioux Falls community is very healthy. We’ve taken the initiative to make this a welcoming campus.”

The next day was relaxing; Sarai and I went running with other members of the cross-country team. It was a four-mile run in sub-thirty-degree weather. We had spent fifteen minutes just warming up and stretching. The run was not competitive, and I was encouraged to run with the group. I liked the pace; two of the women changed the pace as we ran around the campus and over to the outdoor athletic fields.

Debbie had a pair of leggings for me to change into and a long, knit sweater-like dress when we were done. She reminded me that since I had on a gaff that I didn’t need to worry about my extra bits. The biggest thing wasn’t what I had, but the hips and rump that were smaller than most girls. She pointed out what I already knew: many runners don’t have bigger hips.

Sarai excused us from the others and went walking. We had a quiet talk in one of the lounges and had a quiet, affectionate time in our room. I became clingy. I was glad Sarai didn’t get angry with me. She, too, was more affectionate while we were alone. Sarai, in private, was as passionate as I felt. I knew she was serious about making our relationship work; I just wasn’t sure she could adhere to it. “Sarai, apart from me, you like regular guys. I can’t help but think some of these guys are going to be attractive to you.”

We ate at an oriental restaurant for dinner. We were dressed for the concert and chose to sit among the college students. Her parents sat in a special box for dignitaries. The coaching staff was with them. The singers and orchestra were exceptional. The Duvalls later said it was of extraordinary quality. They enjoyed being around a university community.

Being around the university, themes of justice and peace were evident along with education. Its Lutheran connection was evident, but seen with more progressive lenses.

Back in our suite for the night, the Duvalls wanted to know how I was feeling. But how could I tell them my heart ached? Mrs. Duvall said, “We were going to talk later about the possibility of Sarai coming to the university early. We’re sorry you heard it first from others.”

Sarai grabs and hugs me; she is in tears, “I am so sorry. I know it hurt when you heard it. The precious friend you are, you were strong and quiet for my sake.” My arms and hands came around her, and I felt her tearful body shaking in my arms. I kissed her forehead, and we both began to cry. It was good that she knew I was hurt, but for now, it brought little solace.

All the joy from the concert was washed away for me. When Sarai and I were in our room and ready for bed. Sarai said, “You are so precious to me that I wanted to propose to you and ask you to marry me. But we’re too young and you need more time to find yourself. We need more time together.” I pulled back my sheets and welcomed Sarai into my bed.

We passionately kissed at times, and were just quiet and hugging at other times. Our bonds were warm and strong, but I felt shaky and unsure inside. I wanted to go to sleep and awake to find out today was all a bad dream…

To be continued…