”“Great, two parties, you’ll have a fabulous time, when are they?” I asked her.“One is next week, the other, at the end of the month, but I ...on’t be going. Coffee?” She asked, changing the subject.“Why? You never go out, I don’t get it?” I said.Why didn’t I? I’d asked myself that question more times than I cared to remember. I was thirty eight. The truth. I was scared. I was stuck in a rut. I hadn’t changed my hair style in more than a decade. My clothes belonged to the previous century. I. "Look at you, she sneered, you're such a cry-baby."I knew she was right as she always dominated our play together. I alwayshad to play the girl in our pretend games. This was the first time shehad demanded I actually dress as one though."What will our parents say if they catch us?" I was pleading for anescape from her demands. I so wanted to don that pretty dress but therepercussions held me back."Then they will know that I am truly the boy and you are the girl." Shesaid this through gritted. More

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