Back To School I stood in the line. There were students in front of me as well as behind me. I was dressed like the rest of them. I am wearing a white button-down shirt with tan slacks and a blue tie. Over that, I'm wearing my jacket with the school's crest emblazoned: The Mary Lewis Academy. It's a middle school for students grades six to eight. I'm wearing black socks, (I have a choice of black or navy socks) with black Oxford shoes. I am wearing the same as every other boy in line. Girls wear pretty much the same thing; except they wear skirts and tights instead of slacks and socks. What I am wearing that is different from the rest of the boys is that I am wearing a bra and plain white panties. No one can see my bra under my shirt, tie, and jacket. But I need to wear the bra, my breasts are at least a C-cup, maybe even a D. It would be torturous to walk around all day with my breasts unsupported. I suppose I could wear boys' briefs instead of panties, but if no one can tell, then I prefer the panties. They aren't a necessity like the bra. My ID is hanging from my lanyard like the rest of the students. It has a picture of me, my name Allison Field, and my grade, seven. My picture and my name are correct, but my gender and grade are inaccurate. I shouldn't be a student at a middle school. I shouldn't be a student at any public school. I am a woman in my forties. Yet, somehow, I am thought of as an eleven-year-old boy attending a middle school. I try not to look around at all the other kids. I know they see me as just another student. There isn't anything I can do about it. I slowly make my way to the front entrance as the security checks the identifications of all the students who enter. In this day and age, everyone has to be checked before entering the school, even middle school students. I get to the entrance and lift my ID on its lanyard. It was hanging between my breasts. The guard looks at it quickly as well as my face. He allows me to pass. I am in the school. This is the first time I've been in a middle school for thirty years. I don't want to talk to anyone, the rest of the students are just little kids. The staff and teachers think I'm a student. They wouldn't believe me if I told them who I was. I walk quickly down the hall. The halls are brightly lit, but I don't pay any attention. I walk past the notices, and decorations on the wall. I have to be in the first period before the bell rings. I don't want to be tardy on my first day. I don't want to be tardy on any day. I don't want to stand out in any way. That would only mean more trouble. I walk past my teacher who is standing in the doorway. She greets me. "Good morning, Allison." I simply nod my head as I walk enter the room. The teacher greets the next student to enter. The whole situation is bizarre. Nothing about me has changed. I am still the same woman physically that I was before. Not even my name has changed. I'm still Allison Field. Yet, I am a boy in middle school. I take my seat and remove my knapsack from my back. I pull out my notebook, open it to an empty page, and take down my homework. Then I started on the assignment. I hadn't studied this work for thirty years. That doesn't matter, I do my best. Whether the answer is right or wrong doesn't matter. This is a school, the teacher will teach her lesson, and tomorrow I will understand the work. After a few days, I'll be caught up with everyone. I am going to be a good student until I figure this entire thing out and get back to normal. Until that happens, no need to stand out negatively. I casually look around to see if anyone is looking at me. When I determine that no one is, I stealthily reach my hand into my jacket and readjust my bra strap. "I wonder how many of the girls are wearing bras at this age," I wonder. I don't dare look around to find out. "If I'm going to be in middle school, how come I can't at least be a girl," I thought with a sigh. I knew it was a ridiculous question. It didn't matter. None of this made any sense. Being thought of as a girl wouldn't make my circumstances any different. I proceeded from one class to the next. I didn't talk to anyone. No one attempted to talk to me either. Despite the change in subject, each class felt the same. The fourth period was lunch. I walked to the cafeteria with the rest of my class. I was entitled to free lunch, I picked up a tray and filled it with the same meal as everyone else. I had a sandwich, applesauce, milk, and a couple of cookies. I wasn't worried about my diet at this time. I had more to worry about than gaining a few pounds. I looked around and picked a mostly empty table. I didn't know if I should ask to sit down or just sit without asking. I sat at the table as far away from the next student as I could. The kids were spaced out at this table. "God, could I use some coffee and scones right now," I heard one of the kid's whisper. I looked up and saw a boy dressed in the school uniform the same as I was. "What did you say?" I asked. "Oh, nothing." I moved my seat closer to the boy. "Did you say you wanted coffee and scones?" I asked quietly. "No." "Can I ask you a question?" "Umm," the boy said noncommittally. "Are you actually an adult?" The boy nodded. "Me too. You're a man?" "No, I'm a woman." "A woman? You look like a little boy to me." "So, you look like a little boy to me too. I take it you're a man." "No, I'm a woman just like you." "I'm glad I'm not the only adult here." "Me too." "How long have you been here?" "This is my first day." "I've been here since last month." "Do you know what..." Another boy at the table came over. "What are you guys talking about." "It's private!" I didn't want to talk in front of another student, but I wanted to talk to this woman more. "Let's go over there," I pointed to an empty corner. "Okay." "By the way, I'm Allison." "I'm Diana." "I really can't believe it, you look like a boy to me." "I'm not. But you look the same way to me. If you hadn't told me, I would think you are just some boys." "Are there any other adults here?" "I don't think so." "Do you know why this happened?"
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