Jerk of Hearts, Queen of Spades

________________________________Chapter 3

Reggie was in his car, driving home before he realized what was happening; vague memories of Midge chasing after him a few steps and the ignition turning floated through his head, but he couldn't focus. Red lights blared in his eyes from the intersections as he flashed by - was he running them? He couldn't remember. Finally, he saw a stop sign and, scrambling, found the brake pedal. He sat there, idling behind the stop for minutes; by this time, the traffic was almost nonexistant, so no one came along to disturb him.

Midge was not a woman. Or she was, mostly, but there was one very important area that was still male. What did any of it mean? As long as he could remember, the rule had been if you had one, you were a guy. But now, this "girl" was asking him to change all that, to rewrite history somehow and let her be an exception to that rule. Why should he? The Mantles make the rules!

But it's not as if he could ignore the rest. He- SHE was very feminine. Not just because she wore a bra and played softball instead of baseball, but because she talked and smelled and laughed and cried like a girl. As much as he tried to dig through the past and find some instance in which she had given herself away, when she had scratched herself or hocked a loogie or watched a football game or some traditional macho tripe, he knew he wouldn't find much. If it was some kind of act, she was really good at it. And if it wasn't...

She had been born in the wrong body. That didn't happen, though! He'd always known he was a guy, and he had a feeling most of the other girls at school were really girls. But then along comes Midge, saying she was supposed to be a girl but somebody screwed it up. But she HAD been a boy up until a certain age, right? Then she had started wearing dresses, and the other boys had made fun of her- HIM. But they beat him up, broke his arm. If she was really a he, just playing dress-up, that would have been enough to force him back into short pants and ball caps. Only somebody who really believed they were meant to grow into a woman would keep wearing skirts and saddle shoes in the face of bodily injury like that. So either Midge was certifiable, or...

That couldn't be it, either. She wasn't crazy; he could tell by the way she talked to him. Perfectly normal - except for one body part mix-up. So yes, Midge was a dame who had been born with faulty equipment.

It really was the logical conclusion to all this. Even so, Reggie couldn't accept it, couldn't just shrug off his feelings and let bygones be bygones. There really was only one way to say 'I grabbed a girl's penis', and no matter how one said it, it sounded terrible and false. And thinking about the kiss... somehow, at the same time, he knew it wasn't so bad, knew he had really enjoyed it - which brought back the nausea. What he'd known and hadn't known was irrelevant, because in the end he had kissed a boy and LIKED it. That made him feel confused enough to get out of the car right where it was and lean against the door, face buried in his hands.

Minutes passed. Eventually, he wiped his mind clean of all thought; he didn't have the energy to keep mulling it over, anyway. Then he jumped back into his convertible, drove home, managed to greet his folks before refusing supper and going up to his room, and flopped down on the bed.

An hour went by. Reggie was still staring out onto the floor, trying not to think of anything at all. But it kept creeping in through the corners of his mind, kept invading his consciousness and trying to force him to deal with it. He dragged himself into the bathroom and found his father's sleeping pills; he had never taken one in his life, but he thought now he might try one out, see if they worked. He swallowed one down with the rinse cup, then stared at his reflection.

He looked somehow gaunt, tired. An attempt to smile failed miserably. How could he face anybody like this? They'd be able to tell immediately that something was very wrong, any idiot could. He splashed some water onto his face, scrubbed it clean, brushed his teeth. Then he returned to his room, hit the lights and climbed into bed for the second time.

Staring at the ceiling helped make him feel tired. But, when he tried to close his eyes and drift off, he saw Midge crying, felt the phantom sensation of her beneath his hand, and his eyes opened again. Finally, after these visions tortured him for well over half an hour, the medicine in his system forced him to slumber.

________________________________TUE

The next morning was a new day for Reggie. He woke up as usual, refreshed and relaxed - though there was a slight grogginess that he couldn't shake. It seemed more difficult than usual to get his morning wood to point toward the toilet, but a few more tries and he managed it. He dressed in the latest designer clothes from the mall, combed his hair a few minutes more than necessary, and joined his parents at the breakfast table. His mother was talking about some neighborhood bake sale. His father was focused on work - all the news that's fit to print, and so forth. He was asked about the wrestling team and their meet, and he bragged that it would be an easy victory. Secretly, he hated that the meet was during school instead of after because it cut into his class time, which he usually had to make up at home. It was no big deal, just annoying.

He arrived at school with a sunshine and rainbows dancing in his soul. Then, just as he was about to turn off the ignition, go inside and see what the gang was up to, Midge hopped into his passenger's seat.

"Drive," she commanded in a low voice.

"What?" he asked. "Are you crazy? Class starts in a few min-"

"Just drive!"

As Reggie peeled out of the parking lot, everything came crashing down on his head: Midge's unique condition, the moments they had shared. His breakfast rallied a protest inside his stomach as his heart began racing. There was a parking lot at the old abandoned post office across the street from the school, and he pulled into that. "Okay, Midge. We're away."

"Not very far away," she grumbled, glancing over her shoulder at the school. "I kind of wanted to drive right out of Riverdale and never come back."

"Well, I don't!" he exclaimed. "I like it here! So excuse me for not adhering to your escape plan!"

"I just need you to promise me you'll... you'll stay quiet, for now."

Frowning hard, Reggie reached over and felt through the crotch her jeans; it was flat. "St... stay quiet about what? Where'd it go?"

"Here." With jerky, annoyed motions, she reached into the top of her own jeans. A second later, when she pressed his hand against the fabric again, there was most definitely something there. "Happy now?"

"Urgh," he moaned helplessly as he leaned over the door of his convertible. A few ragged breaths kept his Western omelet from coming back for an encore. "Did you have to- to... couldn't you have just SAID you had it put away?"

"Couldn't you have just asked if it was still there?!" she blasted back at him in scathing tones. "God, you know that's abuse, don't you? Want to see it, maybe play with it a little?!"

"NO, I- n-no." Reggie took several more deep breaths, hand over his mouth to fight down the fresh wave of nausea. "Sorry, Midge, but... I thought maybe it never happened, that it was only a nightmare."

"It is a nightmare. Every single day, I live this nightmare. All I want from you is a promise you won't make it worse."

He rounded on her, half-shouting into her beautiful face - his more chivalrous instincts cried out against this, but he did it anyway. "Why shouldn't I?! It is the truth, and there's no reason everybody else shouldn't know who you really are!"

"They know that already! Reggie, come on," she continued wetly, trying not to truly break down. "Stop talking to me like I'm an alien from outer space, I'm just Midge! What are you trying to prove?!"

"Nothing," he growled, turning the ignition again. He noticed her futzing with her pants out of the corner of his eye, and stopped himself from looking over in earnest. "What are you doing, now?"

"Tucking it back again," she sobbed. "Living the lie as long as I can, okay?"

Reggie nodded, and for some reason he took his sweet time checking the mirrors and shifting gears as he waited for her to finish. Then he returned to the student parking lot and parked. As they disembarked, the warning bell rang.

"Great," he exploded. "Now I'm going to be late for Algebra because of this. Thanks a bunch!"

"You're a pig," she shot back as they walked into school side by side. But once they were just in the door, she leaned over to him and hissed, "Please, please don't out me! Not today... just not today."

He stared down at her. On the drive back, she had tried her best to mop up the tears she'd shed, but the bloodshot eyes remained. The betrayal in his heart railed against this, but he muttered "Fine" before moving off to his locker.

________________________________

Algebra and the following class dragged on for millenia as he struggled to concentrate. Archie and Dilton both kicked him a few times to help him stumble through an answer to the teacher's question, but his heart wasn't in it.

At lunch, he ate light in preparation for the meet. Midge was at a table with just Ethel, looking thoroughly down in the dumps. He knew there was more to it than her split with Moose, now. But sympathy was hard to come by for him when she had tried to get him to... no. It was a mistake to dwell on that. Much more important to finish his lunch and move on to the rest of the day.

The meet began; Greendale High was there, and they weren't half bad. Both he and Archie were warming up on the sidelines, stretching, when Archie asked, "What do you think about Midge?"

"Huh?!" He fell back onto his glutes, hard. "Ow... what the heck did you do that for?!"

"Sorry," Archie said sheepishly. "Only asking a simple question."

Reggie fought for composure. "It's fine. What about Midge?"

"Her and Moose," he went on, adjusting his shoes. "It's... really kind of sad, but I dunno. Some of the gang are saying it's a healthy break for them, give them some distance to really look at things. What do you say?"

"GET OVER HERE, MANTLE!" the coach barked. Shrugging, he made his way onto the mat.

The match was going well; Reggie took effortless control of his opponent, a scrawny kid with shaggy brown hair, several times. He was leading in points going into the second period. To his glee, he executed a spectacular takedown - a throw of grand amplitude that he was sure would win him the match...

And then, somehow, the other wrestler's junk was in his face. Normally, this didn't bother him in the least; it was part of the game, nothing good or bad about it whatsoever. But today, feeling the soft squish of private parts was too much. As Reggie fought against his fragile psyche, the opponent pulled off the easiest reversal of his career. He lost more points for exposure. When he was thrown after a long struggle, the second period ended up going to the other guy, and ultimately he lost the match after all, though he technically had accumulated more points. It was disheartening.

Later, in the locker room, he slammed his fist into the shower wall as he peeled off his singlet and turned on the water. This couldn't go on. If he contracted some horrifying phobia of male parts, wrestling would be useless. Football, baseball and hockey, sure, those would be fine. But this was too close quarters. He had to get over it.

"Good try in there, Reg," Frankie Valdez told him as he joined him in the shower.

"Yeah," he gusted, averting his eyes from his compatriot. Now he was even uncomfortable in the shower. These were guys he'd washed up with hundreds of times, with no ill effects or troubling thoughts ever before, and now he was all weirded out. And all because of Midge. "Well, I'll have to try harder, I guess."

A few uneventful minutes later, Reggie forced himself to glance at Frankie, to take in his soapy, muscled body. Nothing. He honestly felt no different than he did the last time he hit the showers. But the idea was still awkward. Why?

While toweling off, the realization hit him: it was Midge. Not just what she was, but the idea of what life might be like if he blabbed. She'd probably be forced to shower with the boys - or, at the very least, use their locker room. How well would that work out? Not well at all, he guessed. If it had been bad when they were elementary school kids, beating her up, it would be worse at this age - harassment, jeering... molestation. No matter how much she had lied, that wasn't right. And what about sports? Boys' sports only, because she was a boy. That could easily have been her body he was pinning on the gym floor, sweaty and tensed and-

Reggie noticed he was letting the thought of Midge's body get to him, and it was showing. He glanced up and down the row of lockers and benches, but Archie had just left and Frankie was still showering. The rest of the team was changing down another row. Breathing deeply, relaxing his mind, he forced his hardness to soften as he slowly dressed. Mentally debating this issue was going to be dangerous in front of others.

He spent the rest of the day being congratulated on a "nice try" in his match. They had lost, all right. The saddest part was that if Reggie had just kept his head in the game and won that second period, they might have been able to come out on top...

After school, she was waiting by his car. Of course she was. She had to check up on him, make sure he hadn't printed a story in the Blue & Gold already. Looking at her was enough to make him ill... but somehow he was more offended that she was only hanging around him more frequently to make sure he kept her secret.

"What now?" he opened with.

"Don't be like that," she sighed dismally. "I... I wanted to thank you for not saying anything yet."

He folded his arms. "Who says I haven't, and it just hasn't got back to your ears yet?"

"Because we're in high school, genius; anything gossipworthy makes its way through the school in a matter of minutes."

"Fine," he admitted. "No, I haven't told anybody. YET. Happy?"

"Of course not." She ran a hand through her short raven locks and stared at the blacktop. "Look, Reggie, I apologize for getting you involved. I mean, I'm not sorry I am who I am, but... if I had just kept you at arm's length, not given in because the breakup had left me a puddle of goo, you'd never have found out. And then you wouldn't have to worry about any of it."

"Well, I get it," he said, opting to be less antagonistic than he felt like being. "Not everything, but the part about keeping it under wraps. You know you cost me the wrestling match today, right?"

"Huh? I... don't see how I could have."

Reggie told her, and she alternated between frowning and trying not to laugh. Finally, he barked, "It's NOT FUNNY!"

"No, of course not," she snickered. "I'm just trying to picture the great Reggie Mantle all fearful of his opponent's balls."

"It's because I found out someone I've been making out with has them," he countered. "Because I assure you, I've never had this problem before. Ever! I don't like guys!"

"Oh, I believe you. Though might I point out that the more you say that, the less genuine it sounds." She walked over to him and placed a hand on his forearm, but when he tensed she let go, backing up a step as she frowned. "Allright, Reggie, I get it. You don't want anything to do with me anymore. If you promise not to tell, I promise to leave you alone. I won't even look at you or talk to you. You have my word."

Very business-like, she held out her hand. In spite of his mixed-up jumble of feelings, Reggie cracked a smile. "Is this two men shaking on it?"

"If that's how you want to look at it," she sighed.

He took her hand and shook. At the end of it, though, he found he couldn't let go. His thumb traced around her palm, and he gazed down at it, at the nimble, delicate shape of her fingers. His eyes roved up her arm and to her perky chest, then up to her petite, doe-eyed face. She blinked a few times, then whispered, "What is it?"

"Are you sure you're not just playing some really terrible joke on me?"

"I wish," she told him bitterly. "Why do you ask?"

"Because... you're still really pretty." The gravity of what he'd just said struck home and he let go of her hand, clutching at his scalp. "Geez, this is such a trip."

"Reggie, I'm not doing any of this to be mean," she said pleadingly. "It's how my life is. And this is why I kept a lid on it; like you said, I'd have to start showering with the boys, and using the men's room. I have a feeling the faculty would get onto me for wearing skirts and high heels, and I'd have to start dressing more 'masculine'... which would look like a bizarre fashion statement on my feminine frame. The whole school wouldn't feel comfortable until I graduated."

"Yeah," he gusted, turning from her and gripping the top of the car door; it was hard to keep thinking about this while looking at her. "The thing is, I can't help but keep thinking it's a joke, even though I've felt it, and it's real. You're SO womanly - how could you ever have been a guy at all? That seems... illegal, or something!"

"Totally. Let me ask you something," she continued, walking up beside him but making no move to get any closer. "How would you feel if you woke up tomorrow, and found out you had a vagina?"

Instantly, his mind was plunged into a black hole of horrifying ideas. "Ugh... holy crapola, I... did you have to do that?! I have no idea what I'd do, that's a heavy notion!"

"Exactly - you'd start hating your new body. Then, you'd either kill yourself, or start trying to find ways to either hide it or fix it. Right?"

He could see where she was going with this. Nevertheless, it was a solid argument. "Okay, okay, I get it; you felt like that ever since nursery school. But... man, you really don't have the cash to just take care of it?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her shrugging. "We've blown most of our excess income on the minor surgeries and the meds, doctor's visits. One day I'll be able to go through with it, and I will, ay-sap."

"Minor surgeries," he repeated, turning back to her at last. "Can I... I mean, what-"

"I'd rather not tell you," she said in a quiet voice.

"But parts of you are fake," he insisted indignantly. "You've been lying so much to me, how can I even trust you anymore?"

Her eyes were watery, and he had to fight to make himself keep looking at her, goading her to give in. Finally she hugged him to her, stroking his back gently, and spoke into his ear so low that he had to strain to catch it even with her mouth inches away. "My cheekbones, and my trachea. Just that, I swear, that's all I've ever had done. The rest is natural - or natural when encouraged by extra hormones, anyway." Then she stepped back and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear; Reggie shivered. The unexpected closeness had made him feel so off he almost couldn't remember what she'd told him. "There's a very light scar here, where they went in for my cheeks. The one on my throat never scarred. It's amazing what they can do."

Reggie stared at her throat, and eventually she swallowed nervously - and it looked totally natural. He supposed her larynx would have been more prominent if she hadn't had it "modified". Numbly, he reached up and traced a finger down her throat, and she held her breath; then he dropped back and she sucked in oxygen. "Amazing is right, I don't see any difference."

"It was quick and painless." She bit her lip for a moment. "I, uh, need to go now, I need to get home. I've only got two hours until my shift at Burger World, and a ton of homework to d-"

"Let me drive you," he suddenly volunteered, not sure why. "'Cuz, um... it's a long walk, and you probably just missed your bus."

She regarded him warily. "I dunno... you really want a freak like me riding in your shiny convertible?"

A valid point; it was odd to think there would be a girl with guy parts looking so pretty next to him, but being so offensive to his romantic side. Even so, he found himself saying, "Whatever."

Nodding, but still looking at him with a cocked eyebrow, she slowly worked around the trunk and got in the passenger's door. Reggie pulled out his sunglasses and donned them as he hopped his door, then started the car and drove off.

"Maybe it's none of my business," she told him in a slightly louder voice to compensate for road noise as he turned onto Riverdale's main drag, "but... I don't think you're gay or anything."

Reggie nearly ran a red light, then whirled to look at her. "Why would you even SAY something like that?!"

"Because you're taking it so well," she said with a flat note of irony in her voice. Then she softened. "Seriously. If you were gay, but extremely far back in the closet, I'm sure you'd be beating me to a bloody pulp right now, or else outing me to all your friends so you can have a good laugh at my expense - thereby covering up your own feelings. But you're still being sort of nice, trying - TRYING to understand a little. On the other hand, if you were gay and NOT closeted, you'd be asking me to have a slumber party while we talk about all the boys we like. So yeah, your reaction pretty much says 'straight guy who's had no contact with the queer community before'. Just my opinion."

"The 'queer community', huh?" he sighed. "Who comes up with these phrases? The Rainbow League Of Flamboyance?"

To his surprise, she laughed - and a real laugh, not just to release the tension. Reggie himself smiled, and for a brief instant, felt totally at ease. The next moment, however, he remembered the situation, and had to clear his throat and pretend to concentrate on the road. Midge did notice, sighed in a would-be pleasant manner, and leaned farther out the window, letting the wind ripple through her raven locks. Try as he might, Reggie couldn't stop watching her out of the corner of his eye, enjoying how carefree and striking her profile was. What a goddess.

It's not as if Reggie was the only man she'd fooled. Moose had been dating her forever - and sure, he wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, but he wasn't a complete amoeba. Then there were all the other boys who'd hit on her, gone out on a date or two. Reggie had only found out because she had thrown caution to the wind and allowed him to push her buttons until her true gender had presented itself in such a way that he could not ignore it. In retrospect, their recent encounter in the bushes had been a clue; he'd just had no real reason to investigate further.

There she was next to him, beautiful, shapely, amazing. But now that he actually had a chance to get closer to her, a very real obstacle presented itself. Could he ever be with a woman who had been a man? Worse yet, she was still a man in the most important way. He could never, ever see himself going beyond second base with her until that was taken care of... which wouldn't be for years, long after they'd moved beyond Riverdale High. Would she take some time off between then and college to recover from her surgery? Or would she do it while she was attending a university, somehow convince everybody that she had been in a car accient or something? None of that mattered to him, it wasn't his business... but he was still curious. Maybe, a part of him was even concerned.

The thought of looking inside - FEELING inside her panties still disgusted him. What an abomination of nature. But he couldn't deny that being in her place would be pure agony. Even if she was just a man trying to be something she wasn't, doing it every day for your entire life would be so tiring that most people would just give up. But that was exactly what she was doing. And as he'd decided before, nobody would do that if they weren't totally convinced that it was the right thing - that they were justified in their choice. So even if he disagreed, as far as Midge was concerned, she really was a woman, through and through. There was just this pesky thing to take care of when she could whip up a few thousand dollars that would make her right once and for all.

Now he felt sad. Disgusted, and sad. And it was a shame, because Midge was so lovely and pleasing to the eye. At the moment, she could have a horrible debate crashing through her head like he did, but outwardly she was serene and content, exuding a languid comeliness that tugged at his heartstrings. Without the knowledge of what was in her pants, he knew he'd be trying to pull over and kiss her again, to move his hands all over her body...

"Reggie, don't- you're going to drive past my house!"

He slammed on the brakes, stopping dead in the middle of the street. Both of them gasped for air and breathed in lungfulls of burnt rubber, trying to calm their pounding hearts, and Reggie laughed. "Sorry, I, uh... that was dumb. I'm a blockhead. Here you go."

"Thanks," she snorted, opening the door and stepping out. He watched her hips sway as she rounded the front of his car, observed how she walked and moved. Nothing about it was forced, or an act; Betty and Veronica had similar walks. When she reached his door, she leaned in, and he caught the tiniest flash of cleavage - real, soft, present cleavage - before her face was blocking his view. "And... thank you, really."

She kissed his cheek, then drew back, giving him a lopsided, apologetic smile. "Sorry if you, um, didn't want that."

"No, I... it's fine," he mumbled. "Hey, Midge..."

"What?"

"Nothing, it's... nevermind. I'll see you at school tomorrow, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. But you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, remember?"

He cleared his throat again, adjusting his seat belt. "Well, uh, that's... I don't see any reason we have to be SO distant... we can chat it up as much as anybody else, there's no reason-"

"Okay, tiger," she giggled, then smiled warmly and kissed him on the forehead this time, her lips lingering a little longer. They were so soft... "Chat it up with you then."

Squinting from behind his shades, he watched her beautiful backside as she walked up to the house. It was very round, very firm. Try as he might, he couldn't locate what she "tucked back"; it simply didn't show. Any guy who looked her up and down would think nothing beyond her being a hot little number who was worth dinner and a movie.

Despite the amount of thinking he'd done, Reggie was more confused than ever.

________________________________To Be Continued...