Mark Lansing never wanted to stand out. He was perfectly happy disappearing into a football huddle with the rest of the team until one play made him the talk of the town. Thrust into a spotlight he never wanted, every choice can reshape his future, and every decision could transform him in ways he never believed possible. Mark’s destiny will be determined on the field … assuming he can figure out how to dress the part.

Chapter 1

Ten sets of eyes stared at the quarterback as he made the call. "Pro set. 32 Dive. X52 Sluggo on 1."

Surprise echoed through the huddle when he finished. Mark wanted to say something but knew it would only make things worse. At least his friend sounded confident.

Jeffrey flashed an arrogant grin, "We got this. Everyone ready?"

They did their best to mirror their quarterback’s enthusiasm. Each member of the team placed their right hand in the middle of the huddle, one on top of the other, "Ready."

Jeffrey looked at each face, then gave Mark a wink as he placed his hand on top.

"Ready. Break."

The team ran out of the huddle. A roar rose from the home crowd.

Mark had been in thousands of team huddles over the years but never one like this. Stanton High had won every game so far and a win tonight would clinch the school’s first conference championship in six years. He jogged towards his spot on the right hash. The sideline marker showed 4th and 2.

The defender said something as Mark lined up but he wasn’t listening. The guy had been a cocky little shit all game, but aggression could be a weakness. Mark glanced towards the center of the field, making sure he wasn’t lined up offsides. In the distance, he could see thousands of fans standing on the bleachers shouting their encouragement. Every teacher, every neighbor, every student Mark knew watched as both teams went through their pre-snap reads. Jeffrey didn’t dare return Mark’s look. Surprise was the key. They’d practiced this a thousand times.

Jeffrey shouted the signals, "Red 32. Red 32. Set. Hut."

Both teams exploded out of their stances at the snap. Mark did the same. Everyone in the stadium expected a run. On Mark’s third step, he knew Jeffrey would be planting the ruse, carefully pressing the football against the running back’s stomach.

Mark faked a block against the cornerback before darting towards the middle of the field, seeing the sudden fear in the defender’s eyes as Jeffrey pulled the ball away from the running back’s grasp.

Mark made a clean cut. All three linebackers had charged the line to tackle the running back leaving a massive opening in the middle of the field.

A throw now, a simple pass and catch, and they’d have an easy first down. But the coach hadn’t called a Slant. He’d called a Sluggo.

A Sluggo route, short for Slant and Go, was all about timing, and it only worked when quarterback and receiver were in complete sync. Mark didn’t bother looking at Jeffrey. His eyes were on the defender, waiting for his hips to turn to the inside.

The defender turned. Mark planted his left foot, grinning slightly when he saw the defender fall as he tried to reverse course. A look back showed Jeffrey had already thrown the ball, a lob pass, the easiest kind to catch.

Kids grow up dreaming about moments like this. Every second seemed like an eternity as the ball floated towards Mark’s hands. It should have been an easy catch. He’d made a half-dozen harder catches already tonight.

His hands slapped together like two slabs of granite. The ball hit careened high into the air.

Mark watched helplessly as his team’s dreams fell with it. He leaped in desperation, hoping to stave off his error, but could only watch as the ball hit the ground a few yards away. Mark hit the turf a second later, his entire body gone limp at the enormity of what happened. A loud groan rose from the hometown bleachers then the stadium grew eerily quiet.

A game official confirmed the play’s result. "Turnover on downs. First Down. Rockford."

Mark lay frozen, praying the turf might swallow him whole. By the time his legs found the strength to stand, he saw his teammates had already vacated the field. He tried to jog to join them, but the hard landing forced a walk allowing the entire town to vent their anger at the would-be hero turned goat.

One heckler’s voice stood out over the others. "Curse you #13. Next game, you’ll be wearing a dress."

Chapter 2

The walk to the locker room felt endless. Mark didn’t see his Dad as he passed the mass of hometown fans. He heard their shouts but his ears were in no mood to listen.

Everything went quiet when the locker room door closed. Too quiet. Mark stood in a corner and waited as the coaches filed in. No need to call attention to himself.

"This was a tough one but keep your heads up. We win as a team, and we lose as a team and we can still win the championship with a victory next week. Now hit the showers."

Mark was thankful Coach Denny kept his post game speech short. He was more thankful the man didn’t single him out. The looks from his teammates told a different story. He waited in the hall as the others finished their showers.

"Can you believe Lansing dropped that ball? It hit him right in the hands."

"That dude sucks. He wouldn’t be starting if he wasn’t sucking Simmons’ dick."

"Speaking of dicks. Are you seeing Betsy tonight?"

"You know it. She’s out in the hallway right now dreaming about my cock."

"Ha. Ha. Betsy should dream about bigger things."

"Screw you Miller."

Showers after a game rarely last very long. If the running commentary was to be believed, most of them had girls outside, all eager to suck their dicks. It didn’t matter how any of the conversations started, they always drifted to blowjobs.

Mark waited for the shower to clear before entering. Only when the stream of warm water hit him, did Mark allow himself a chance to vent. “Arrrrrrgggghh!”

"Everything okay in here?"

Mark almost fell when he saw his best friend standing in the doorway. "Geeze, Jeffrey. You scared me half to death. I thought you left."

Jeffrey said, "Nah. Coach wanted me to talk to a recruiter from State College."

"State College? That’s big time." Mark looked down. At one point in his football career, he’d dreamed of being recruited by a major school, but those were just dreams. "How’d it go?"

Jeffrey shrugged. "They said they’re waiting until the end of the season before they make a final decision. I think they want to take another look at that QB from Lewiston."

"Shit." Jeffrey had been the top quarterback prospect in the area since their sophomore year. "I’m sorry."

"About what?"

"Dropping that pass. It didn’t help your chances."

Jeffrey smiled, "You need to stop. You caught seven passes tonight."

Mark shrugged, "And no one will remember anything except the one I dropped."

Jeffrey smacked Mark’s backside with a dry towel. "You’re the best receiver on the team. You’ll catch the next one."

Mark jumped as he felt the welt forming on his backside. "Shouldn’t you be getting ready? I heard the Homecoming court is doing last minute prep work tonight. I doubt they can get anything done without their king."

Jeffrey said, "You know I don’t like getting involved in that stuff."

Mark nodded, "Yeah, but Gina does."

Jeffrey looked up at the clock on the wall. "Shit. I wish you hadn’t reminded me."

Mark turned around as his friend began to spread body wash all over his naked body. Most of the girls in the school would pay good money to trade places with him. Jeffrey was a great athlete, very good-looking, an honor roll student, and a nice guy to boot. Mark often wondered why they were still friends.

Jeffery said, "You and Emily should come. Gina would love to have help."

Mark said, "Nah. You know Emily isn’t into that sort of thing."

"Too bad." Jeffrey smiled. "You think you’ll get lucky tonight?"

"Shut up." They both knew that wasn’t going to happen.

"Then come join us. I need you man." Jeffrey gave his most pathetic look. "Don’t abandon me to Gina’s friends. Those girls are going to want to talk about cheerleading shit all night."

"Emily won’t want to listen to that either. She’s not into that girly rah-rah shit."

"Yeah. I know." Jeffrey sighed. "Have I mentioned your girlfriend is a bit of a prude?"

Things like that were easy for Jeffrey to say. If he broke up with a girl, another would appear like magic. Mark on the other hand was happy to find someone willing to go steady. "You’ve mentioned it a couple of times."

"Heh. Heh." Jeffrey said, enjoying the playful banter between two old friends as he dried himself off. Mark tried not to look at his friend who had in recent years had grown from a lanky pre-teen to resemble every bit of a Greek god. Jeffrey added, "For what it is worth, I put in a good word for you with the recruiter. He said if I get a scholarship, he says he’s sure you can get in as a preferred walk-on. We could be roommates and everything."

Jeffrey’s wasn’t being subtle. Bro’s covered each other’s backs. "I’ll try to make it, dude, but you know Emily."

Jeffrey shouted back as he ran down the hall. "I’m counting on you, bro."

Mark looked down and wished it were possible.

Mark checked his phone after he got out of the shower. The posts weren’t unexpected – five new voice mails, two dozen text messages, and over a hundred mentions on social media.

Given some of the comments, Mark expected to find an angry mob when exited the locker room, but only one person remained.

"Everything okay? You were in there for a long time."

Emily stood in the gym hallway next to the weight room door. She didn’t jump into his arms like his teammates claimed happened with their girlfriends. Emily leaned forward and gave him a post-game hug and perfunctory kiss.

Mark said, "Sorry for making you wait."

Their hug lasted longer than normal. The warmth of Emily’s body felt nice in the cold October wind. Mark especially liked feeling her tiny boobs pressing against his chest.

Emily said, "It’s fine."

A look down the hall showed a shadowy figure standing at the other end. Mark said, "We should get out of here before the haters get their pitchforks and torches. Have you seen my mentions on social media?"

"I saw." Emily took his arm and pulled him towards the door. Mark noticed she gripped her purse tighter as they walked to the parking lot. Mark pulled her tight. She smiled back.

It still didn’t seem real that he and Emily were dating. He’d known her almost as long as he'd known Jeffrey. They'd been close as kids when differences between boys and girls didn't matter so much. She'd spent days with them running around the park and nights on the computer grinding levels in Wizards of Lore.

Then puberty hit, and they drifted apart, the way that happens with kids. She started sitting with a different crowd at lunch, and Mark stopped noticing she wasn't around.

So it surprised him when she showed up at his 18th birthday party. It surprised him more when she was still there after everyone else had gone home. The two of them sat on the back porch steps, picking up their friendship like they’d never stopped speaking.

That was over a month ago. They'd been dating ever since, but every time Mark felt them standing at the edge of something new, an old gravity pulled them back toward the friendship they knew by heart.

"I can’t believe I dropped that pass. It was so easy." Mark stared at his hands. "I had the ball right here. We should have won the game."

"Yeah." Emily slipped her arm around Mark’s waist. "I had something similar happen at today’s field hockey game. Yolanda made a perfect pass on a cross and I totally muffed it."

Mark laughed. "Really, Em? That’s not the same thing."

Emily stopped walking. "What do you mean it’s not the same?"

Mark tried to explain. "There was a scout from State College at the game tonight. He spoke to Jeffrey after the game. If I caught that pass, he might have noticed me and…"

Emily's smile disappeared, "We have scouts at our games too. Our field hockey team is good this year. You’d know that if you came to one of our games."

Mark tried again. "It’s not the same Emily. The whole town watched me drop the ball. How many people watched you? A couple dozen?"

Emily’s face darkened, "This town needs to stop putting football players on pedestals."

"It’s not my fault no one wants to watch field hockey." Mark knew he shouldn’t have said the words as soon as they left his mouth.

Emily’s voice rose an octave, "Is that why you don’t come to my games?"

Oh god. Not this again. "I’m sorry. You know Coach keeps us late for football practice."

Emily grew red. "So you’ve said."

They’d had this discussed many times before. Mark tried to change the subject. "Jeffrey wants us to help set up the Homecoming Dance."

"That’s not happening." Emily didn’t look happy as she started poking him in the chest to emphasize each word. "You think you’re going to dump me off for a couple of hours and force me to talk to Gina and her bitchy friends?"

Mark held up his hands to block the blows. "Jeffrey needs me."

"Then maybe you should date him." Emily started to poke Mark again, and he again tried to block it. Emily’s finger came in at full force this time, a solid contact that knocked him back several feet.

Mark rubbed his chest. "Damn it, Emily. That really hurt."

"Yeah, right." Emily crossed her arms. "The whole town knows it isn’t possible for a weak little girl to hurt a big, strong football player."

"Trust me, it hurts." Mark tried to get a read on Emily’s face but her features were hidden in the darkness of the hall. "You know how sore I get after games. You’re not being fair."

"You’re right. I’m sorry." Emily drew closer, her face softening some, "We lost today, I’m pissed, and I’m taking it out on you. Now I’ve got a headache."

Mark wanted to say something but held his tongue. Emily always had a headache. "Do you want me to drive?"

"No." Emily’s fire returned, "No one drives my car but me."

Chapter 3

The phone rang a minute after 8 AM. Mark let it ring and go to voice mail. A few seconds later his phone rang again.

"Dammit." Every muscle in his body hurt, but that wasn’t unusual the morning after a game.

"What do you want?" Mark didn’t need to ask who it was. Only one person would call him this early on a Saturday.

Jeffrey sounded way too chipper. "I’m getting in my car right now. Be ready when I get there." The line went dead a second later.

Mark did quick math in his head. It would take his friend at least eight minutes to get there, and he could get ready in five minutes so that meant he had three minutes of shuteye. Mark laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. The horn seemed to sound a second later.

** HONK HONK HONK **

Mark jumped out of bed grabbing underwear, a pair of shorts, socks, and a sweatshirt. He didn’t have time for a shower, so Mark put on his clothes as he ran down the steps then shouted towards the kitchen.

He yelled, "I’m going to the park with Jeffrey."

His Mom shouted from the kitchen, "Don’t you want breakfast?"

Jeffrey stood at the front door holding a cup of coffee and a doughnut.

Mark shouted to the kitchen. "I’m good, Mom. Jeffrey brought breakfast." The two hurried out the door before Mark’s Mom had a chance to respond.

Jeffrey jogged to his car. "Did you fall asleep after you hung up?"

Mark yawned as he took a sip of coffee. "I’m exhausted."

"Late night with Emily?" Jeffrey’s voice sounded almost hopeful, "I mean, that’s the only reason I can think of why you’d abandon your best friend to an evening with a bunch of whiny cheerleaders."

Mark didn’t have the heart to tell him Emily had brought him straight home after the game. "Yeah. That’s it. I banged Emily all night."

Jeffrey’s smile showed he didn’t believe a word. "I know that’s a lie."

It looked like half the town decided to come to the park this morning. Mark couldn’t blame them. An autumn chill clipped the air, but it didn’t matter. In a month it’d be a wintry freeze and they’d dream of days like this. He smiled at the group of kids who’d started a pickup football game near the picnic tables. Six years ago he and Jeffrey had done the same every Saturday morning with kids from the neighborhood. Now it was just the two of them.

Jeffrey said, "Sluggo?"

Mark saw his friend’s smile. "That’s mean."

Jeff said, "Practice makes perfect."

Mark shook his head. "Alright."

Jeffrey set up behind an invisible center. "Blue 42. Blue 42. Set. Hut."

Mark sprinted from the line. Three drive steps … transition to the slant … break for the Go route and then look back. Jeffrey had thrown the ball with a little extra juice this morning, but Mark snatched it easily in stride. It was so easy. If only…

Jeffrey shouted, "And that’s six points for the Beavers." Mark watched his friend jumping up and down as he pretended to be an announcer. Mark listened for a mocking tone, but didn’t hear one.

The first pass had caught the attention of the nearby pickup game. A couple of the younger kids stood and watched Mark and his friend run a few more routes. It was one of the smaller kids who worked up the courage to speak. "Are you Jeffrey Simmons?"

Jeffrey grinned, "Last time I checked."

Another kid kicked at the dirt. "I heard you guys lost last night."

"Yeah." Jeffrey nodded, "We’ll get them next week."

An older boy spoke up. "My Dad said you would have won if your stupid receiver hadn’t dropped a pass."

Jeffrey laughed, "You hear that, Mark?"

Mark smiled at the boy, but the boy didn’t get the joke.

That was one thing he’d always liked about football – football players wore helmets so unless a player got their picture in the paper, you were anonymous. Of course, that wasn’t true of the quarterback. Quarterbacks always got their pictures taken.

Mark couldn’t blame anyone for not realizing he was on the football team. He didn’t have the looks. He wasn’t especially tall. He wasn’t muscular. All he had was his speed and a usually dependable set of hands.

Jeffrey said, "Another Sluggo?"

"Sure." Mark toed the line.

"Blue 42. Blue 42. Set. Hut."

Mark sprinted from the line. Three drive steps … transition to the slant … break for the go route. A look back. The ball was in the air. This one was a floater over his right shoulder, a tough catch, but one they’d practiced hundreds of times. Mark snagged it with ease.

Jeffrey said, "Nice catch #13."

Mark tossed the ball back and saw the kid looked a little embarrassed. Had he figured it out?

Jeffrey said, "Practice the tree?"

Mark nodded. "Yeah. Sure"

Jeffrey would never admit it, but he loved the attention. His friend always played better when people were watching and decided to give the boys a show. "Power Left. 594 Pro. Set. Hut."

Jeffrey loved to try to trick Mark. Power Left 594 Pro. Each word of the playcall was designated to note a slight variation for every player on the field. For Mark, this call meant he had to run a curl route. It took Mark two steps before he’d confirmed the call in his brain. Calling out plays on the line and running them a second later gave the players little time to think. It was Coach Denny’s philosophy that they all know the playbook like a second language. No thinking, only action.

Eight steps then a quick turn inside. The ball left Jeffrey’s hand early so it was there when Mark turned. He tried to get his hands up, but the ball bounced hard off his chest.

The ball hit so hard, it bent back two of his fingers. "Goddammit Jeffrey." Now both his hands and his chest hurt.
Mark could hear the kids snickering in the distance.

Jeffrey asked, "You okay?"

"Just a bit sore from the game." Mark rubbed his chest. It had been sore when he woke and Jeffrey hit the same spot where Emily had punched him.

Jeffrey said, "Yeah, I’m a bit sore too. That linebacker got me real good in the 3rd quarter. I was in the shower for a half hour this morning to work out the pain. Too bad Doc Glenn doesn’t work weekends."

Mark looked beneath his shirt. His chest looked swollen and puffy. He massaged his fingers around the sore spot. Touching it felt good.

"Owww."

Jeffrey laughed. "Come on you wimp. The ball didn't hit you that hard."

Mark shook his head. "I’m not sore from the game. I’m sore from Emily." He continued to press his hands against his chest.

Jeffrey smiled, "Emily made you sore? Nice. Maybe I was too hasty with my earlier comment."

Mark said, "Nah. It wasn’t like that. She punched me."

"Emily punched you?"

"Yeah." Mark picked up the ball and threw it back to his friend, "I told her field hockey wasn’t a real sport."

"Heh, heh." Jeffrey gripped the ball tight. "Rookie mistake, Lansing. Now I know you didn’t get any pussy last night."

A round of snickers echoed from the nearby boys. Jeffrey turned to face them. "Listen boys. Please don’t repeat what I just said to your parents, okay?"

The boys all shook their heads. "No sir."

Jeffrey winked to Mark. "In return, maybe I can get a few volunteers to catch some passes from me? Butterfingers #13 is injured."
All the boys raised their hands.

"That’s a lot of volunteers. You’re going to need to form a line." The boys all hustled to the spot where Mark had stood.

Jeffrey looked at the first kid. Ten yards. Down and out. You ready?" The boy returned an overly serious nod.

"Set. Hut."

The boy ran well past ten yards and turned around. Jeffrey tossed a slow ball that hit the boy's hands, and he caught on the second bobble. He wore a broad smile when he tossed the ball back to Jeffrey.

Jeffrey called out. "Next. You know how to run a buttonhook route?"

The next boy in line nodded.

"Set. Hut."

Mark watched from a distance as Jeffrey continued to instruct the boys in the finer points of pass catching. He couldn’t stop rubbing the spot where the football hit.

Chapter 4

A woman’s voice shouted up the stairs, "Emily’s here."

Mark called back. "Thanks Mom."

The long shower didn’t work and neither did a cold compress. Mark pulled on his tight-fitting compression shirt, hoping it might ease the pain.
The weird part was it didn’t hurt. It was more like a nagging ache.

"Ouch."

He hadn’t even realized he’d touched himself. If anything the compression shirt made things worse, but with Emily downstairs he couldn’t change now.

Mark pulled on his dress shirt and tied his tie. A quick look in the mirror showed two years later he looked essentially the same as he did in his sophomore year. 5’10", short brown hair parted on the left, dull brown eyes, and weighing a wispy 160 lbs. despite four years in the weight room.

No one would ever mistake him for Jeffrey, but he’d accepted that fact a long time ago. Jeffrey had tried to set him up with one of Gina’s friends but none of them seemed interested. Emily on the other hand had sought him out.

"You decent?"

"Yeah." Mark turned around to see his girlfriend standing in the doorway.

Mark struggled to find the right words. "You look … different."

Emily smiled, "You too."

Mark said, "I mean, you’re wearing a dress."

She laughed, "I’ve worn dresses before."

"I’ve never seen you in one."

"That’s probably true." She took his hand. "Tonight’s a special night."

"Is it?" Maybe tonight was the night he’d finally get lucky.

Emily bent at the knee, mocking a formal curtsy. "It’s the Homecoming Dance. Isn’t it every girl’s dream to have a big, strong football player take her?"

"Oh god." Mark forced a smile. "Are you still pissed about the thing I said about field hockey?"

She patted his cheek. "My boyfriend is both smart and sexy. How can a simple woman like me expect to withstand the feminine passions you arouse in my loins?"

"Are you going to be like this all night?"

"Haven’t decided yet." She dangled her keys. "Are you going to buy me dinner?"

Mark took a last look in the mirror. Something looked off, though Emily hadn’t said anything. "Yeah. I’m ready."

Mark felt the icy chill as soon as they walked inside the dance. Heads turned and others stopped talking as he passed. Emily held his hand the whole time, squeezing from time to time in a show of support.

Mark had to admit Gina and the Homecoming committee had done a great job. Streamers hung from the rafters with balloons and banners covering every wall. If he hadn’t been inside the room hundreds of times, he might not recognize it as their gymnasium.

Emily pointed, "Let’s sit with the team."

Mark glanced across the room towards the football team and their dates, but he knew Emily meant a different team. She pulled him across the room to a table where the field hockey team sat with their dates. Along the way, Mark saw Jeffrey sitting with a table full of cheerleaders. He looked as miserable as Mark felt.

"Everyone, this is Mark." Emily announced, "Mark this is everyone."

The whole group of field hockey players spoke at once, but Gwen Smathers spoke the loudest, "Ahh… the mysterious boyfriend. We were starting to wonder if you were made up."

"Seriously, Gwen? We’ve known each other since 5th grade and we’re in the same Physics class."

Gwen said, "Touchy, touchy, Marky. I’m surprised a big, strong football player would know one of us peasants."

Shit. Mark looked at Emily. "You told them?"

"I might have sent out a few texts. I was really mad."

The couple of the other girls at the table nodded. "She was really mad."

"She told all of you?" Smiles circled the table causing Mark’s face to turn red. He recognized a few of the other guys at the table, but none of them played football.

His panic rose. He turned to Emily, "Want something to drink?"

She curtsied. "Why, of course, sir. A proper girl should never fetch her own drink."

The table burst out laughing, the warmth on Mark’s face grew hot then moved to his chest, causing a twinge of pain so sharp he might have fallen if not for the help of a nearby chair. He exited the area as quickly as he could. A look back at the girls showed they already moved on to other subjects.

Jeffrey waved from the refreshment table. "How’s it going?"

"Emily is still pissed."

"Yeah, I bet. First you insult an entire team of girls, then you get stuck sitting with them. Bad planning, bro." Jeffrey flashed his trademark grin. "If it helps, Gina's friends are way more annoying."

"It doesn’t help." Mark glanced over at Emily, groping for something to say and coming up empty. "Girls."

"Yeah." Jeffrey looked over at Gina and sighed, "Girls."

"You’re sure they’re worth the trouble?"

Jeffrey grinned, "Oh yeah."

Mark scooped some of the pink looking concoction from the bowl and poured it into a red cup. "Want some?"

"Nah. Save that fruity shit for the girls."

Mark took a sip. "It’s not half bad."

Jeffrey turned his nose. "Too sweet for me, but Gina likes it." Jeffrey filled a cup for her then sniffed it. "You’d think someone would have had the decency to spike it."

"Yeah. Too bad." Mark nodded, filling a cup for Emily. It would have been nice if someone had spiked it. Alcohol might dull his pain.

Voices called from the other side of the gym. "Come on, Jeffy! We're dancing!" Gina and her friends were already headed for the dance floor.

"Guess I'm dancing," Jeffrey said.

"I can see that, Jeffy."

"Don't look so smug. Emily's gonna drag your ass out there, bro. Can't wait to see that."

"No way. Not happening."

Mark watched his friend go, sipping his punch as Jeffrey slid into the crowd with his usual flair.

Emily was alone at the table by the time Mark got back.

"Where'd everyone go?"

"Where do you think?" She looked out at the mass of people in the middle of the room dancing to the music. "It’s a dance."

"I don't think your friends like me."

"They like you fine. Don't you haze the new guys on the football team?"

"Only if they deserve it."

"Exactly the point." She smiled and took a sip of her punch, then held out her hand. "Care to join me on the dance floor?"

"I can't dance."

"Can't, or won't?"

"You know I've never even been to a dance before."

"Then tonight's the night you find out." Emily’s voice carried, loud and proud. "Don't worry, little Marky. I'll protect you." She held out her other hand. "Besides, you owe me."

"Fine." Mark stood. How long was he going to keep paying for one stupid comment?

Mark hadn’t dated much. Technically, Emily was only his third girlfriend, though his first two ‘relationships’ lasted a total of one evening after being set up by his Mom’s friends. He wasn’t even sure Emily counted since she approached him.

Emily pulled him towards the dance floor, with Mark complaining at every step.

"I’m warning you." He shouted, "I’m a terrible dancer."

"Relax." Emily said, "I’ll show you how to lead."

Mark said, "I’m so clueless I’m not even sure what leading means."

"You’ll figure it out in two minutes."

Mark wished he felt as confident as Emily sounded.

Confidence was one thing Emily had in abundance. It’s why Mark felt bad when he didn’t stick up for her when guys in the locker room made comments when they thought he wasn’t listening.

Plain.
Too skinny.
Tiny tits.

Mark never bothered arguing with them. Not because he agreed but because he only cared how beautiful Emily was on the inside. Standing here now, he realized he was as blind as all the others.

At school, Emily always dressed for comfort usually wearing a Stanton Field Hockey sweatshirt, baggy pants, and hair tied back in braids.

Tonight was different.

For once, she'd put on makeup, subtle enough that he couldn't tell exactly what she'd changed, yet dramatic enough that she seemed to glow beneath the dance hall lights. Dark, smoky eyes framed by impossibly long lashes. Deep red lipstick drew his attention every time she smiled.

She looked… beautiful … and it wasn’t because she'd transformed into someone else but because she’d turned herself into something Mark never realized had been there all along.

Emily caught him staring again. "Will you stop staring at my boobs?"

"I wasn’t."

A mischievous grin spread across her face. "Liar."

His ears burned. "I was just..." Mark shrugged helplessly. "Have I told you? … you look... wow."

"Thanks." Emily blushed.

Music pulsed around them as Emily rested her hands on his shoulders. Mark’s eyes again found their way to his girlfriend’s chest.

"Eyes up," she teased.

Mark immediately looked down at his feet.

She laughed. "Up is the other direction."

"I'm trying not to step on you."

"You're thinking too much." She leaned closer, lowering her voice as she whispered in his ear. "Relax."

The cheerleaders claimed the spotlight near the center of the dance floor, performing years of rehearsed routines, showing off so all could see. Their dates struggled to keep pace, though a few embraced the chaos. As usual, Jeffrey barreled through the choreography as a running back might, weaving his way through the crowd of girls, doing his best to avoid contact as if they were would-be tacklers. The moves were clumsy, ridiculous, and earned roaring cheers from the football players gathered along the edge of the floor.

Mark caught several of his teammates glancing back in his direction. Or more accurately… at Emily. For the first time all night, he didn't mind the attention. They were seeing what he was seeing. Emily was incredible and she had chosen him.

She leaned forward, speaking in a soft whisper only he could hear. "You can pull me closer."

Mark’s heart skipped a beat. "You sure?"

Emily pulled Mark close, her 4-inch heels reversing his normal height advantage. He stared up into her eyes as their bodies touched, his face warming as they danced body-to-body and cheek-to-cheek.

Mark couldn’t remember feeling happier. All his pain disappeared, as did his insecurities, replaced by a warm feeling rushing to his extremities.

"Get a room, Lansing." Mark didn’t need to look to know Jeffrey’s voice, but he had more important things on his mind.

Mark had no idea how long they danced as he lost himself as his girlfriend’s body rubbed against his own. When he regained his senses, Emily’s face looked white as a ghost. Only when Mark released her, did Emily’s color return.

Emily said, "Wow."

"Are you okay?" Mark asked.

Emily repeated, "Wow."

It took all Mark’s willpower not to kiss her. His entire body yearned for something. He'd watched couples in hallways making out like no one else existed, and he’d seen them in parks and in movie theaters. Now he found himself a part of that world, a deep feeling of desire welling up from within and not caring who saw. The ball of energy grew and grew until he could barely stand it.

Then the feeling shifted.

The tingling sensation bloomed across his chest, subtle at first, like pins and needles just beneath his skin. Mark tried to ignore it, at first assuming it was the press of Emily's body but then the tingling intensified, spreading out from his sternum in waves. His heart began to race, not from excitement, but from something else. Something wrong as Mark's stomach lurched.

He pulled back slightly, searching Emily's face for answers as the tingling became a burn, radiating through his chest as his vision blurred at the edges. The nausea hit like a sledgehammer, and Mark bent at his knees as a wave of sickness crashed through his body.

"Are you okay?" Emily said.

Mark shook his head, "I’m not sure."

Emily asked, "Can I help?"

Bile welled in the pits of Mark’s stomach as he ran in the general direction of the bathroom. The pain on his chest returned with growing intensity as he bounced off people in the crowd.

"Dude? Watch it." Mark recognized the sophomore from the football team, but pushed past, nearly knocking his date to the ground in the process.

"Asshole."

Mark didn’t stop. He didn’t look back. His action drew the attention of everyone nearby, the group of onlookers forming a wall between him and his destination. Only one thing could get them to move.

"I’m gonna get sick…"

As soon as Mark said the magic words, the crowd parted like the Red Sea. Waves of laughter followed him all the way to the bathroom. Bile climbed his throat as he opened the stall door.

"Shit. Shit. Shit."

He’d barely locked the door when red liquid began spewing from his mouth, missing the toilet by a foot. Waves of cold started next, cascading from head to toe freezing Mark in place as it climbed his body, stopping at his chest.

The feeling disappeared as soon as it started, quiet returning too. Soon, the only sound in the bathroom was the drip-drip-drips from the faucets.

"No way."

Mark pinched himself. This had to be a dream. No, it had to be a nightmare. He wanted to scream but didn’t dare draw attention. He could think of only one person to call. They picked up on the first ring.

"Where’d you go? Come back to the dance floor."

Mark didn’t have time to explain. "Something happened. Meet me by the nature trail."

Mark stretched his arms. The cold October wind felt good against his chest.

A voice called in the darkness. "Mark?" Emily’s voice sounded shrill in the night air.

"I’m over here."

Dozens of couples lined the trail of the woods, all in various states of undress. He’d nearly tripped over a few but thankfully, most were either too drunk or too preoccupied to get a good look at his half naked body.

Emily asked, "Why are we out here?"

Mark took a deep breath, pressing the compression shirt against his chest.

Emily said, "Aren’t you cold?"

Mark shook his head. "I’m burning up." He held out a hand and took Emily’s hands in his own.

Emily said, "You are warm."

Mark guided Emily’s hand to the warmth under his compression shirt. As soon as she touched his chest the feeling grew more intense.

"What’s wrong?"

Mark tried to answer. He wanted to say more but found the world growing faint. A second later he looked down as the ground got closer and closer.

A gentle hand slapped him on the cheek. "Are you okay?"

Mark’s eyes blinked open. A girl stood over him. Thoughts moved rapidly. Football… Emily… Dance… Bathroom… Mark rolled to his knees to hold off getting sick again.

Emily asked, "Are you okay?"

Mark looked down. "Where’s my shirt?"

"I found it on the ground." She pointed to a branch on a nearby tree where both his dress shirt and compression shirt hung.

"I …" Mark looked down. "Do you see my chest?"

"Well … yeah." Emily said, looking embarrassed.

"What do you think?" Mark wasn’t sure how to explain.

Emily nodded her head, "I’ve seen your chest before."

“I mean…” Mark shook his head, then lowered his voice, "Look at my nipples. They’re sticking out."

Emily said, "It’s cold."

Mark shook his head, not quite believing his words. "I think I’m growing boobs."

“Ha.” Emily laughed then realized Mark wasn’t joking, "Did someone spike the punch?" She pulled down her dress enough to reveal a bra propping up two perky mounds of flesh. "These are boobs."

Mark walked beside her. "Feel me."

Mark nearly fell as soon as Emily’s cold hands touched the area. "You have distended nipples. Lots of guys have them. It’s not a big deal."

Mark pressed his hands down, receiving a rush of pain for his effort,"Not a big deal?" Mark couldn’t believe anyone would think this wasn’t a big deal.

Emily’s teeth chattered as she spoke. "Can’t we go somewhere warmer? Whatever game you’re playing is too much. You don’t need to do this if you really want to mess around."

Mark wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but it didn’t feel funny. Touching a girl’s chest was something he’d dreamed about since Middle School. Jeffrey had teased him for most of the last month because of his inability to get to second base with Emily.

"Are you serious?"

Emily fought off a shiver, "We can stay here if you want. You’re clearly not the only member of the student body who had this idea." Moans from the nearby woods reinforced her point.

Mark didn’t hesitate. He put one hand on his chest and the other on Emily’s bra. It surprised him when she didn’t swat him away.

Emily asked, "Is it everything you expected?"

Mark touched himself and then touched Emily’s bra. "It’s different."

Emily laughed, "I know you don’t have much experience with girls but the things on your chest and the things on mine are a lot different."

"I know." Mark said, taking Emily’s hand and placing it on his nipple. "Can’t you feel that?"

"That’s not a breast." Emily pulled her hand away. "Have you ever heard of gynecomastia?"

Mark said, "Guy-nah-what?"

"Man boobs." Emily smiled when Mark didn’t respond, "It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s not uncommon for guys. The area’s probably been growing for years, and you never noticed."

"No way." Mark shook his head as his voice rose an octave. "I would have noticed. And if I didn’t the guys in the locker room would have said something." Mark shook his head as thoughts raced through his brain. Nothing made sense. "The area started hurting last night after you hit me. I thought it was a bruise but the more I touched it, the more it hurt. Then Jeffrey hit me there with a ball this morning and something happened on the dance floor…" Thoughts came rushing back. "Do you remember our slow dance?"

"Sure." Emily gave a shy smile, "I remember dancing. I remember pulling you tight."

Mark nodded, "The pain in my chest went away when I touched you."

"Okay." Emily laughed. “Are you saying I have magic tits?”

Mark said, "It took every ounce of strength to let go…"

"That’s because you’re horny."

"… and as soon as I did, I started to feel sick. I ran to the bathroom and that’s when I felt the change happen to my chest."

Emily stared. "I don’t see a change."

Mark looked down at his nipples pointing out like two headlights in the cold. "Let’s do a test."

"A test?"

"Let me touch your breasts … under the bra."

"Nice try." Emily scowled, "If you want to touch my breasts, there are more romantic ways to ask. I already told you we could mess around if you played your cards right. To be clear, making me stand in the woods on a cold night is not playing your cards right."

"You were going to let me…" Mark shook his head. He had more pressing matters to address.

"Too late.” Emily interjection, “What’s your plan, perv?"

Mark reached out. His fingers had a mind of their own, snaking under Emily’s bra and moving higher.

"Damn Mark. Your hands are cold."

"Sorry."

Mark had one hand on his chest and stared into his girlfriend's eyes as he reached under the cloth of her bra. He might be screwing everything up but he needed to know. Emily's eyes grew dim as Mark's hands grew warm. It was nice to feel a breast.

He’d barely finished the thought when a shiver traveled the length of his body. It didn’t hurt, it felt more like when the blood supply is cut off to an arm for too long and a thousand pins and needles poke you all at once. Every place it moved froze his body solid, finally centering on his chest before disappearing.

Emily’s eyes retained a glassy look. "Em?"

Emily smiled and adjusted her bra, "Your hand felt nice…"

Mark blushed. "That’s all you felt?"

Emily took a moment to catch her breath before answering. "… I felt something else too. It’s hard to describe."

Mark asked, "Can you try?"

Emily yawned, "Can we please go somewhere warm?"

Mark shook his head. He pressed a hand against his right breast. "It happened again."

“You’re being ridicul…” Emily placed her hand on Mark’s chest. "That feels like a breast bud." She reached with her other hand. “That one too.”

“Do you believe me now?”

Emily let her fingers trace a circle around Mark’s nipples. “That’s so weird.”

Mark pulled away. "Can we go somewhere else?"

Emily gave a cross look, “I’ve been asking for ten minutes. Wanna go back to the dance?”

Mark shook his head. “I want to go to some place more private.”

“Uh huh…” Emily returned a wry smile. "We can’t go to my place. My Mom would freak out if she caught me with a boy in my room."

Mark returned a look of innocence he’d practiced all week, "You could come to my house. It’s parent’s weekend at my sister’s college. Mom and Dad won’t be back until tomorrow."

“Ha … ha…” Emily smirked, "If I didn’t know you better, I’d think this whole night was a set up.”

Mark shrugged. "I’d be lying if I hadn’t hoped … but I promise, no tricks. You can sleep in Missy’s room, if you want to stay the night."

“I trust you Mark.” Emily gave him a peck on the cheek. "I’ll call Mom and tell her I’m spending the night with a girlfriend from the team."

Mark pulled at his shirt. "Awesome."

It took them five minutes to backtrack through the woods to get to the parking lot. Emily didn’t say a word as they drove to his house. Every so often, she did give him a look as Mark swirled his fingers around his nipples. The area felt better every time he did it.

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