Archive of Our Own ^beta

He didn't tell the Poets, of course. Just because they were all "Carpe Diem, seize the day, be who you are" and accepted that he wasn’t a boy didn't mean anything. There was a difference between not being a boy and not dressing like one. He knew for a fact Neil had worn lipstick — he'd seen it on Todd — and eyeliner, but that was just for performance stuff so it actually looked like he had a mouth and eyes — though how exactly someone wouldn't be able to see Neil's dark voids of eyes from a mile away was a mystery. That wasn't the same. 

Charlie hadn't even confronted his boyfriends about his thoughts. Well, he hadn't told any of his partners about it. As they had all agreed, Charlie was a pivotal part of their "polycule", as Steven Meeks, that genius, had dubbed it — no, he was not going to fix the fact that the word combined Greek and Latin roots, he'd stayed up late coming up with it — and he couldn't stand the thought of losing any of them because of this weird desire. If it kept them together, he was willing to do — or not do — anything. If he could push it down for seventeen years, a few million more couldn't hurt... right?

That wasn't to say he wouldn't lie awake sometimes and try to plan out outfits he'd wear one day. Outfits that even Ginny, who never cared much about what she wore, wouldn't be caught dead in, they were so ugly and tackily excessive. Thinking about the swishy skirts and pretty high heels and the sparkly jewelry and the lacy things — even the things he'd seen on centerfold models looked moderately interesting, even if it was very little — all combined on one person, him. Or her. Or them.

He wasn't even sure what he wanted with pronouns. Sometimes in his mental monologue, he'd swap the pronouns around for fun, and some days... she actually sounded good. Like it fit. Sometimes when he was bored in class and felt like it, he'd try to draw himself with a different body, a girl's body — as in, he was the girl. He didn't mind his own body, he just thought it might be fun some days to not be built like a god, and more like a goddess. He'd gotten pretty good at drawing lately, copying the pictures out of magazines and movie posters — his favorite was a toss-up between Jayne Mansfield and Marilyn Monroe — and he could almost see himself looking like that. Almost. 

Of course, these outfits or drawings would never be seen by anyone except himself, in his own head. How could he explain himself if he was caught? None of it made any sense to him, how could it make sense to anyone else? 

"Good morning, Mr. Dalton!" Mr. Keating greeted him one morning. He had a stack of papers in his hand, and everyone figured it was last week's essay. 

Charlie propped his head up on his hand. "Morning, Captain," he yawned.

"Looks like someone had a late night," Mr. Keating teased good-naturedly, "I hope it was something good."

"I was... reading," Charlie offered as an explanation. If only he wasn't so tired, then he could come up with a more believable reason for him to be tired...

"Yeah, a women's clothing catalogue," Cameron snorted, "That would put me to sleep."

"Now, now, we all have different interests in reading material," Mr. Keating said, just the slightest bit defensively, "We all know this by now. You might like Shakespeare, while your friend may like the lyrical Homer, while another friend may prefer the prose of Sears Roebuck."

Charlie laughed, grateful that the teacher was willing to stand up for him in his moment of vulnerability and exhaustion. "Thanks, Keating."

"Anytime, Dalton," Mr. Keating said warmly, then turned his attention to the papers in his hands. "Now that everyone has found their chairs, or an appropriate equivalent—" Stick was sitting on their desk "—I have some very important news from the front office of Hell." The class groaned. "Hey, I haven't even given you the news yet!"

"It's the front office, what bathroom got flooded this time?" Knox grumbled. 

"No bathroom, though you all may be finding those in a bit more of a sparsity next semester," Mr. Keating said, "At least ones that are intended for your use." 

"What do you mean, Da— Mr. Keating?" Neil asked. Mr. Keating looked at him with a knowing grin. Sometimes, the teacher and student would have a cup of tea together in Mr. Keating's office, and Neil would vent to him about his actual father and other sources of stress in his life, and Mr. Keating would try his best to offer his advice, or at least the listening ear and open arms for a tight, paternal embrace that Neil so desperately needed and almost never got from his actual father. Mr. Keating didn't mind Neil calling him something other than "Mr. Keating" or "Captain" or even "John." Despite being against the societal pressures for children to get in into heterosexual marriages and restock the offspring, and being undoubtedly Achillean, Mr. Keating wished he could've had a son like Neil, and was more than happy to steal him from the dreaded Tom Perry, or as Neil often would refer to him, "Tom." 

"Well, Neil, the administration received word of a very interesting article in the school paper a few weeks ago, penned by our very own Charles Nuwanda Dalton, on the front of having female students attend Welton," Mr. Keating explained, and Charlie sat up curiously. He hadn't been told that his article had been sent to the administration. "They read over the article, and decided that he made some very good points."

He made good points? He'd mostly meant it as a joke.

"Given that, the school has decided that next semester, they will be offering some of the ladies at neighboring schools the chance to attend Welton Academy, as an experiment." The room exploded into side conversations, as well as some very loud self-stimulating activities from those who were very excited — namely, Neil, Knox, and Meeks. 

"Todd! You might finally get to meet Ginny!" Neil said, reaching over and squeezing his partner's hand and grinning. He'd been wanting to introduce his theater friend to his roommate for almost five months now. 

"You really think she'll want to meet me?" Todd asked, quietly rubbing his hands. "I'm not that exciting, and you guys sound really exciting—"

"Trust me, I've told her all about you, and how adorable and sweet you are," Neil assured him. Todd smiled shyly. "I also mentioned that you wrote poetry, and she's been begging me to bring some to practice, but I don't want to do that without your permission or anything, especially since most of the stuff you've given me is a little more personal than I think you'd want her reading." There wasn't anything crazily explicit in the poems, Todd just happened to get very, very sappy and very, very romantic when writing for Neil. He didn't even know he had it in him to do that, but sometimes one had a surprise for themself. 

Knox's shoulders looked tense from behind, but if anyone looked at his face — or knew him at all — they would know he was grinning from ear to ear. "I need to call Chris after class!" 

"I feel like I've been dating her by proxy for forever..." Meeks sighed, "I hope she likes me back..."

"Oh, she will," Knox said eagerly, "She thinks you're so cool, Meeks, trust me."

"Now, Mr. Nolan's biggest concern about this change is that you boys won't behave," Mr. Keating continued, causing most of the side conversation to stop, "I was asked to remind you all to behave as perfect gentlemen when the new students arrive, and I have no doubt in my mind that you will be." He smiled. "For the comfort of these new students, the teachers who were planning to retire at Welton will be replaced with a few of the lady teachers from the other schools. Mr. Nolan also wanted me to emphasise that you have to respect them as well — I'm just reading off the page at this point, I think most of this you'll have no problem doing. Let's see here..." Mr. Keating squinted at his packet. "Well, a few floors of one of the dorm buildings will be converted to house the ladies, and some other spaces for changing rooms and bathrooms."

"Okay, whose room are we calling the girls from this afternoon?" Pitts asked. He and Meeks may have been too shy to actually talk to Ginny or Chris on the phone — even after being assured several times that they weren't scary at all — but they liked being in the room to cuddle while everyone else fought for dominance over the one receiver. 

"I've got the phone, Pittsie," Charlie called, "You guys meet up in my room and we'll dial up Chris. Hopefully Ginny will be over."

"Great," Cameron grumbled, rolling his eyes. He was frequently shoved out of his room so the polycule could meet up around the room, and when he got back, the blankets on his bed were generally messed up from the boys sitting, and his books would be moved an inch away from where they had been when he left. 

"Well, you can call your girlfriends later," Mr. Keating said, "Though I'd love to give some time to spread the news. Now, I, unfortunately, have to discuss your midterms."

About a month later, Neil pulled the dorm room door open, noisily making his excitement known and causing Meeks to mumble something about 'Neil, we've been over this, not before six'. "Today's the day!"

"What?" Charlie sat up, patting Meeks' unruly red fluff of hair. They'd had a sleepover the previous night, and Cameron hated it. 

"Today's the day the girls are coming for their tours!" Neil exclaimed, pacing around the small dorm room and wiggling his hands around aggressively. He let out a weird little chirp, then covered his mouth instinctively. Mr. Keating had encouraged him to stop covering them up, and it did feel a lot better, but it was taking a while to shake off the nagging hand of his father swatting him to get him to shut up at family gatherings. 

Meeks rolled over, grabbing his glasses. "Neil, you know we love you, but what time is it?"

"Sorry," Todd gasped, stumbling into the room and looking very dizzy, "I tried to hold him off, but there's only so long until kisses stop distracting a person..." He peeked at his watch. "It's six-oh-five."

Meeks rolled his eyes with a grin. "Well, thank you for keeping him distracted for five minutes." He sat up properly, rubbing his eyes. Neil was shaking an annoyed Cameron awake, and Cameron nearly smacked him with the pillow to get him to stop. 

Charlie tossed a pillow to Neil as a weapon, and the room soon exploded into a pillow fight. Pitts, Knox, and Stick wandered into the room, trying to figure out what student was getting murdered. 

"Me! I'm getting murdered!" Cameron shouted as he smacked Charlie upside the head and knocked him off the bed. "You hit like a girl!"

Charlie froze in her spot, lying on her back on the hardwood floor. It was a common enough phrase, they'd probably still use it for decades to come, but... Why was being a girl a bad thing? She'd seen Ginny fighting with her brother from afar, and she definitely didn't want to be on the receiving end of what Chet was getting. She'd heard that phrase so many times before, why did it hurt more than the contact with the floor did now?

"Might not want to get used to using that phrase, Cameron!" Meeks shoved Neil backwards and bapped Cameron in the chest. Neil toppled into Todd, who caught him under the arms with a laugh, then stumbled backwards into Stick and Knox. 

The hall monitor was heard before he was seen, waving his flashlight in the air, shouting, "Do you boys want a demerit the day we have guests?"

The room went silent, and everyone got off the beds. Charlie pouted as Meeks crawled away. He was always so warm and comforting when they were sleeping... Charlie almost felt sometimes like she could wake Meeks up and tell him everything she was feeling — about the gender thing, about the dresses, about just how much she loved him. She couldn't do it last night, of course, Cameron was five feet away from them, but... Meeks understood things that even Charlie didn't — even beyond Latin. And Trigonometry. And how the universe worked, and why people fell in love, and why people felt things that didn't make sense. 

"You boys ought to be ashamed of yourselves..." the hall monitor muttered, and Stick and Charlie looked at each other with a look like they had an inside joke. Maybe the boys could feel ashamed of themselves, but they were guilt-free. It was funny how the world worked in one's favor. "Everyone get dressed and get to breakfast. This place had better be straightened up—" Now it was time for all of the Poets to smirk "—before seven. The guests will be here at nine."

Charlie was trying to tie her tie straight in the bathroom mirror after having Mr. Nolan turn her around and tell her to fix it. She'd tied it more like a bow today. 

Meeks came in to wash his hands, and he smirked. "Nolan didn't like your fashion choice, did he?"

"When doesn't he?" Charlie laughed, then turned her attention back to the mirror. 

Meeks wiped his hands on the towel, watching her. "You seemed stressed during the pillow war this morning. Is everything okay?"

"What? I wasn't stressed," Charlie said, far more defensively than intended. "Sorry, Stevie. I'm... I'm..." For a moment, she locked eyes with Meeks and thought she was going to tell him. "I don't know."

"You sure? You know you can tell me anything." Meeks stood up on his tiptoes and gave her forehead a kiss. He stood for a minute, holding her face in his hands and looking in her eyes fondly. "I'll love you no matter what."

"What if I killed the president?" Charlie asked, hating to be the one to ruin a tender moment, but also hating to be the one to pass up on a joke. 

Meeks's nose wrinkled as he laughed. "Did you?" 

"If I did, you'd never know," Charlie teased. 

Meeks tugged on her tie, grinning. "Are you sure about that?"

"I... Yes?" Charlie said, every bit of courageous flirtation drained out of her expression, leaving a completely blank expression.  

Meeks smirked, poking her nose. "I'm sure I could figure out a way to weasel it out of you." He let go and headed out of the bathroom, leaving Charlie speechless. How one of Welton's biggest nerds could also be a Honors-level flirt was beyond her. 

Charlie returned to her task, but something in her mind didn't want to move it from where Meeks had left it. It was by no definition on straight. She shrugged at herself, then left the bathroom. 

"Danbury, Virginia." 

"It's Ginny," Neil and Todd whispered together. Todd hadn't ever heard Ginny say it, but he knew she said it to anyone who called her by her full first name. The brown-haired girl stood up, and everyone clapped. They could all see the Danburys gesturing for her to smile, but she only further pouted annoyedly. 

Pitts's eyes were huge, and he nudged Neil aggressively. "That's my girlfriend?"

"Is that a problem?" Neil asked, not being able to read his surprised expression. Was Pitts happy about the fact that Ginny was in the polycule, or disappointed?

"She's so cute!" Pitts almost stood up, but Knox grabbed his fist to stop him. "When was anyone going to tell me she was so cute? She's adorable! Who is she attached by? Can they introduce me? Please?"

"I think she's attached by Chris and Knox," Charlie explained, frowning in deep thought, "But I'm not sure. I might also have her. Stevie, do I have Ginny?"

"Don't ask me, I barely know who I have," Meeks said with a shrug. 

Todd whispered to Neil, "They don't even know who's dating who. I don't think we need to keep drawing that map."

"You guys have a map?" Knox asked, leaning over Stick's lap, "Can you share it with us? I don't know who I have."

Stick signed that they'd make one themself later, once they got back to their dorm in the afternoon, and Knox thanked him, peeking over at the headmaster then giving them a quick kiss on the cheek. 

Charlie had her shoes on so her heel was standing on the back of the shoe, giving the illusion of walking on her toes. It felt funny, and sometimes it hurt a little by the end of the day, but for now, it was fun. "How long are they going to be introducing people?"

"I don't think it'll be long, there were only twenty-four girls who were able to participate," Meeks answered, looking at his watch. 

"Noelle, Christine."

"Chris!" Knox shouted suddenly, and it was Pitts who grabbed him by both shoulders and yanked him back into his seat. Chris turned around to look at them, and she was clearly amused. 

Meeks's whole face turned red, and he buried his face in Charlie's shoulder. "She's so pretty, Charlie..." 

"I know," Knox said, eyes wide and sparkling. "I love her so much..."

"Well, you better," Todd muttered to himself, "You spent two months bothering her, you better make that worth it."

Neil smirked. Todd was painfully shy sometimes, but the few times when he actually spoke on his own volition, he was one of the most sarcastic people Neil had ever met. 

Finally, the welcome ceremony was over, and the Poets were allowed to go meet up with their friends. Ginny saw Neil immediately, and ran over to hug him. "Hey, Puck!"

"Hey, Hermia!" Neil answered, swinging his friend around — Ginny was very small and reveled in her tall friend's ability to pick her up, since her brother wouldn't do it anymore because he was 'too cool' — and setting her down again. "I can't believe we're going to school together!" 

"Yeah!" Ginny said, bouncing up and down excitedly, "We've got to compare schedules later!" 

Todd stood awkwardly next to Neil, rubbing his hands and awaiting his doom. "Oh, Ginny, this is my... roommate, Todd." Here it was. 

"Oh, hi! Neil's told me all about you!" Ginny said, her bright smile now for Todd. Todd nodded in acknowledgement, still looking at the floor. Luckily, Ginny didn't demand him to look at her. "He was right! You are adorable!"

Todd's ears turned red, and Neil smiled. Sometimes he'd hoped Ginny would bring something like that up just so Todd would blush.

She leaned over to Neil and whispered, "Do you know the really, really tall guy you were sitting near?" 

"That would be Mr. Gerard Pitts," Neil said, not even needing to look over his friends to know who it was she meant. 

"That's Pittsie?" Ginny exclaimed, mouth dropping open, "That's my boyfriend?" 

"I-is that a p-problem?" Todd mumbled, repeating what Neil had said earlier, and Neil smirked knowingly at him. 

"No! Look at him! Why would that be a problem? Who's he attached by? Someone needs to introduce me." Ginny seemed to be already completely enamored by the tall Welton boy. 

"Chris!" Knox shouted excitedly, and Chris ran over, then paused questioningly. "I will catch you this time, I promise. I've been practicing with Stick." For comedy's sake, Stick rubbed their back as if something hurt. Fortunately, Knox executed the catch flawlessly. 

"Hello, handsome," Chris said cheerfully, giving him a kiss, and Knox seemed to almost melt. Todd's hope was fulfilled. Knox was very aware of how lucky he was. The cheerleader leaned over to where Charlie was standing next to Knox and tapped her shoulder. "Hello, other handsome."

"'Other handsome'?" Charlie said incredulously, but let her give her a kiss. "You haven't met the true handsome yet." 

"Did you spontaneously grow another personality since the last time I saw you?" Chris joked. 

"No, this is the True Handsome." Charlie wrapped her arm around Meeks and pulled him forward where Chris could see him. "Steven Meeks, this is Chris Noelle. And... cue the flabbergasted expression of love at first sight."

"You spend far too much time with me," Meeks muttered, giving Charlie a loving side-eye, then returned his attention to Chris. "Hi." 

"I don't spend too much time with you, I spend too much time with literally anyone who meets Chris for the first time," Charlie corrected him, giving him a kiss on the side of the head. 

"Ah, the creator of our term. Hi, Steven," Chris said, with the poise and grace of a queen meeting a guest she'd been looking forward to, "Charlie's right. I think Knox has got competition for the true handsome."

"Hey..." Knox pouted at her, but she pinched his cheek playfully. 

"You know I'm kidding, darling," Chris said, smiling. She turned back to Meeks as Knox wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly and burying his face in her shoulder. "So, Steven, these boys tell me you made a radio?"

"Well, it's a little one, and it doesn't get all the stations, but yeah," Meeks answered bashfully, adjusting his glasses. "Knox tells me you're really good at chemistry?"

"I'm not that good at chemistry—" Chris answered shyly, but Knox spoke up, muffled by her sweater. 

"You're better than me and Charlie combined," he said, "I think you're really good. Besides, didn't you say you wanted to be a bioengineer or something?"

"Biochemist," Chris corrected him, "I want to study genetic material. My cousin's got some kind of disorder that's genetic, and I want to know how I can help her better. I don't know how successful I'll be getting into the colleges, but I want to try it." 

"Oh, that's really cool!" Meeks said genuinely, and Charlie smiled fondly at him. Meeks was very much in love. 

"Besides, I like the goggles and white coat," Chris added, making them all laugh. Her tone turned a bit more serious as she sighed, "Though I might only end up selling people white coats in a shopping mall. Who knows?"

"I think you'll get the degree," Knox assured her, "And even if you can't do it, I'll still make a cake for you that says, 'Best Biochemist Ever'." 

Chris smiled at him. "I love you, Knox, but I don't know if I trust your cooking." 

"Well, if you're going to be the biochemist, someone has to do the stuff at home, right?" Knox said. "I mean, we've got the whole polycule to help, too. We'll all help you."

"Thanks, Knox," Chris said, as if she wasn't expecting so much support, "I haven't gotten so much support for my future plans from anyone other than you." She looked back at everyone else. "So, where's everything?"

To Mr. Nolan's surprise, the girls at Welton mixed very well with the other students. The students and the teachers all got on splendidly, and Mr. Keating quickly gathered a circle of friends in his new colleagues.

Ginny and Todd ended up getting along, even though she tended to get loud and he was anything but, and Neil had apparently described Todd in extreme detail to her, so she went into the friendship as if she'd known him forever, and Todd was still recovering from the initial meeting. 

Ginny and Pitts had it bad for each other, but were having a bit of difficulty getting around to actually telling each other.

Meeks, on the other hand, was an absolute sweetheart, and quickly had Chris helping him with his biology work, even though he really didn't need the assistance —  he just liked being around her. Charlie thought he was going to explode from the amount of love and affection he was feeling towards everyone, and was consistently fighting the urge to catch anyone in the polycule in the hall and give them a fully-inappropriate-to-give-in-public kiss, an emotion that was best said by Stick —  waving their hands around randomly, having no words to speak and no sign to convey what they actually wanted to say. 

The more time he spent with everyone, the more he questioned if they'd actually mind if he was curious. He knew Cameron would definitely care, but really, who actually cared what Cameron thought? And Knox really had no right to judge him on being feminine, after basically offering to be Chris's wife... 

One afternoon, he found himself on a free period wandering the hallway he wasn't supposed to technically be in —  the girls' hallway. He'd walked down this hallway routinely when boys lived there, but these days it wasn't allowed. He looked around. There wasn't any hall monitor right now, since most people were out on the green, or they were in class. He'd never been to Chris and Ginny's room, and this was an opportunity to just peek. 

When he found the room, he could tell they were the occupants, Ginny's side a mismatched patchwork of interests, a stack of Shakespeare plays and Sappho poems — she'd asked Mr. Keating if they could read something by her, and he quickly became her favorite teacher — some funny little sculpture of a dog, a football helmet for Ridgeway High, and some random laundry, and Chris's being a neat, traditionally feminine setup, with floral wallpaper on her book covers and a poem — the first poem Knox had ever written her and read in school; that had been an embarrassing story for Knox, but that showed he was growing, according to Meeks — tacked on the wall, alongside the bouquet of wildflowers he'd brought. It was a pretty room, and Charlie could hardly tell a pair of teenage boys had lived there only a month before. 

He noticed something hanging off Ginny's desk chair. It was some blouse and a skirt, with a pair of rolled-up socks sitting on the chair. Charlie stared at them for a few minutes, knowing good and well that if anyone walked in right now he'd get either suspended or expelled, knowing they wouldn't understand what he was doing, or what he was feeling. They wouldn't understand that he wasn't trying to be a pervert, he was trying to imagine how it would feel to dress in any fashion that he wanted. That they wanted. That she wanted. Charlie squeezed her eyes shut, trying to blot out the tears in her eyes. This was as close as she'd ever get to being herself. He could be himself anytime, and they... well, they were still figuring themself out. They couldn't seem to figure out what neutral was, so most of those days were spent passing masculinely and appropriating some innocent culture that didn't deserve that brash treatment. They knew it was wrong and inexcusable, but... they didn't have anywhere else to go. They wished more than anything that their culture had a middle ground, just so they didn't have to travel to far away lands for somewhere to belong. Wasn't that what everyone wanted? 

"Ah!" Charlie whipped around to face Ginny, who had backed out of the room in surprise. "What are you doing here, Charlie?"

"I was— I... Well... I have no idea," Charlie admitted, face flushing in mortification. 

"Why were you staring at my clothes? I'll start there," Ginny said, trying to get over her surprise. She closed the door and flopped on her bed. Charlie was caught. There wasn't anywhere she could go to hide from this. "I'm not going to tell anybody if it's not creepy."

"It's not," Charlie said quickly, "I swear, Dead Poets Honor, I'm not being creepy." Ginny was looking at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. "Look, it... it doesn't make sense. It doesn't even make sense to me." 

"It's not that weird if you're a girl, you know," Ginny said, and Charlie doubled back. How did she get so close to what Charlie was trying to say?

"Look, it's not all the time," Charlie blurted out, "It's just some days, I like being a guy, it's great, and other days I could swear if I looked down I was supposed to have a huge rack and I don't, and other days I don't even know what I am, I just sort of exist, in this body, and my body doesn't match that, but I don't know what I want it to be, and I get that this is weird and crazy, and if you want to tell everyone else and have them vote me out of the polycule like we did Cameron. I get it."

She was shaking, and tears were running down her face, but she was still trying to not start sobbing. As if the polycule was the worst that could happen... But it was. Even if she got locked up for this, she could still have them in her mind, maybe call them, maybe they could visit if she was good, but... losing them, that was the family she never knew she needed in her life. It was like Mr. Keating to Neil. It was everything. So much love that didn't care that she acted goofy sometimes and would feed into the god complex with compliments and would help with homework and would crawl into a giant cuddle pile even when only one had a bad day... Charlie couldn't lose that. 

Ginny was staring at her wide-eyed. "Does anyone else know about this?" She asked slowly. She clearly had no idea of where to go from here. Charlie honestly didn't either. 

"No, I haven't told anyone else," Charlie answered shakily, "I didn't want them to... I didn't want to lose..."

"I get it," Ginny answered. She was surprisingly calm. "Chris told me about some people she'd read about who feel like that. I mean, they usually feel one way all the time, but I guess it could change too, right? You can be sad one day and happy the next, why not a boy one day and a girl the next?" She got up, looking at Charlie. "You don't have very good taste in clothes, though."

"What do you mean?" Charlie said incredulously. First she accidentally outed herself, now she was getting attacked for her fashion sense? Unbelievable. 

"This skirt and shirt barely go together," Ginny said, going to the dresser, "I bet that's not what you want to wear." Charlie was about to say that she didn't really care if it was an actual skirt or just a blanket around her waist at this point when Ginny opened a drawer and pulled out a mass of red satin, which unfolded to be the most gorgeous dress Charlie had ever seen in her life. The skirt was huge and fluffy, and the top was in that shape that Charlie couldn't remember what it was called, because she was just so enamored. Ginny seemed to catch her expression and grinned. "Much more your style, isn't it?"

"How... how did you know?" Charlie asked, reaching out shyly to touch the skirt. It was just as soft as she'd imagined. 

"Well, Stevie said you liked red because it was a sensual color, as he called it — does he not know any words?" Charlie shook her head. "And I hardly ever wear this thing. I think it looks pretty bad with my hair, and when do you even wear something like this? We don't have dances very often... I wish we had dances." She offered the mass of beauty to Charlie. "You want to try it on? I think we're about the same size."

"Really?" Charlie took the dress in her arms like it was something made of glass, or a cloud that would vanish if it was handled wrong. "Are you sure?" Ginny nodded, digging through the drawers again and getting out a pair of panty hose and a mystery box. 

"Start off by putting these on, you won't get around that skirt," Ginny said, tossing the thin, peach-colored stockings at Charlie, "Then we'll get the petticoats squared away, then we can get the dress on, and if you want to play with some jewelry or makeup or something—"

"Jewelry?" Charlie was not expecting Ginny to dive headfirst into this. Ginny nodded. Charlie set the dress carefully on the bed, hugging Ginny tightly. "I love you so much," she said, actively crying now. 

"I know, baby, I know," Ginny said, smirking and patting Charlie's cheek, "Now come on, we've got to get this done before you get caught in here and we all get thrown out." 

It didn't take Charlie long to get dressed, and Ginny did her best to get the lipstick and mascara on straight— "Chris is much better at this, but this is a secret operation, so I guess I'll have to do" — and soon Charlie was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room in two-inch pumps, staring at herself in the mirror on the inside of Ginny's wardrobe door. "I look hot."

"You really do," Ginny said, looking pleasantly surprised and impressed, then her gaze shifted to Charlie's discarded Welton uniform. "Hey, Charlie?"

"Yeah?" Charlie asked distractedly, shamelessly staring straight down the top of the dress. 

"Would... would you mind if I tried your uniform on? Ours is cut a little too tight, and the skirts are just unnecessary." 

"Sure, go for it," Charlie answered, twirling the skirt around. 

"Oh, well now I'm wondering what my gender's doing," Ginny said, staring at herself, then got out the mascara again and gently brushed it on her upper lip like a mustache. "I swear, if this school wasn't guarded like a prison, we could sneak out to some club or something and go dancing. We look great. Wait— " Ginny turned around and reached under her bed, pulling out a record player and a stack of records. "What songs do you like?"

"Wiggle around just a little bit, that's what you gotta do, yeah, oh, babe, whole lotta shakin' goin' on, now let's go one time—'

Fifteen minutes and three records later, Charlie and Ginny were trying to jive together, neither one having real experience swing dancing but they were both more than willing to try. 

"Dancing in heels is harder than I thought," Charlie panted. 

"These pants are so warm," Ginny answered, swinging Charlie under her arm. 

"Ginny, what's going—" Chris stopped in the doorway, and the record scratched. Ginny and Charlie looked at each other. "Ginny, what's on your face?"

"Mascara," Ginny answered without thinking. 

Chris squinted at Charlie. "Charlie? What are you doing here? You know you'll get expelled if they find you here," she said softly, suddenly closing the door. She smiled. "No matter how pretty you look." Charlie sighed in relief. So she didn't look that bad. "So, are you two playing some kind of dress-up game or something?"

"Yeah," Ginny said, "It's called 'What Is Gender?' We found out the answer is no." She looked at Charlie to see if she approved. 

"Well," Chris said, smiling at both of them shyly, "You both look beautiful. Handsome. Attractive. I don't know what to call you." She set her books on the desk. "You know who would also think you look good?"

"Chris, I don't think that's—"

"Sure," Charlie interrupted her. "Everyone's having a study group up there, and there's a back staircase, no one will have to know." 

"Are you sure, Charlie?" Ginny asked her as Charlie strutted awkwardly to the door. 

"Sure," Charlie answered, "I might as well tell them the truth, and... and if they don't like it, I'll... I'll know who's worth it in the end." She wanted to ride this burst of confidence — and feeling of feminine urge — until it fizzled out. "Come on." 

Ginny followed behind her, peeking down the opposite way nervously. "I hope this works out..."

"Hey, Charlie, what's— what are you wearing?" Neil looked at him up and down confusedly. Todd was curled up next to him, trying to process a long day. 

"It's— it's a cocktail dress, what does it look like?" Charlie stammered, already feeling like she had to crawl upstairs and turn back into the Charlie they all knew. She hated that these were her friends, some of them had known him since forever, and she couldn't feel like herself around them. "I... You know how I'm not a boy?" The group of Poets nodded slowly in near-perfect — and confused — unison. "I... I wanted to try wearing more feminine things. I tried this out today and... I-I think I'm going to do this more often. I really liked it."

Todd nodded sleepily at her. "You do you, buddy..." he said softly, pulling his sleeves over his hands and snuggling against Neil's sweatered shoulder. 

"So, I'm guessing your pronouns are changing by the day?" Neil asked. Charlie shrugged, then nodded. That was probably right. "I'll try to remember to ask. You look good, by the way."

Stick nodded in agreement. They made a gesture in front of their face, meaning you look beautiful. Charlie smiled shyly. 

Knox was staring at both Ginny and Charlie in their outfits, looking like he'd just received a gift that he'd been wanting for years. He got up and hugged Charlie tightly, then gave her a kiss. "You look lovely."

"Thank you," Charlie said. 

"Can't you just pick a pronoun?" Cameron grumbled to himself. 

"Can you just pick a class to fail?" Knox snapped annoyedly. Neil was desperately trying to hold the friend group together, but Cameron's betrayal wasn't going unanswered from anyone. 

"Excuse me for a moment..." Meeks promptly got up and slipped out of the room. Charlie felt her face go cold. The one person who understood everything... didn't understand this. She wiggled out of Knox's embrace and took off down the hall after him. 

"Stevie— Stevie please just let me explain—" The dorm room door was shut. Charlie wasn't sure if an invitation was needed. In any other situation, he'd be allowed to barge in and attack Meeks with kisses, but could she do that now? "Stevie... I'm sorry." The words stuck in her throat. She'd never apologized for how she was, not to anyone — not her parents, not Mr. Nolan, and most certainly not Meeks. And she'd never wanted to. 

"Charlie, wait—" the door swung open, and Meeks was standing in the doorway, looking frightened, as if he worried Charlie wouldn't be there when he opened the door. "Don't apologize, please, please don't apologize. I'm sorry... I didn't mean to walk out like that. I know you needed me to say something, and I... and I just left without saying a word to you." He swallowed, looking at Charlie's dress. She really did look good in red. "I just... I was not expecting that, and... I guess just leaving to gather my thoughts wasn't the best idea. You... you look amazing, Charlie." He suddenly looked like he'd realized something. "Are you still Charlie, or should I call you something else, or—"

"I mean, I'm still kind of going by Charlie," Charlie explained, "And still sometimes Nuwanda, but less than before. I'm trying to find a name that's more..."

"You?" Meeks offered.

"I was going to say white, but I guess that's probably a better way to say it," Charlie laughed, and Meeks laughed too. "So... you're not mad about this?"

"No! Why would I be mad?" Meeks exclaimed, "You look pretty!" He raked a hand through his hair. "Okay, so your pronouns change by the day, you're going to try to wear more feminine stuff—"

"In private, since it's not in the dress code—"

"And I'm calling you Mine." Meeks smiled shyly. "'Mine' is neutral."

Charlie blinked. Well then. That was pretty smooth. "I mean... I don't mind if you call me that. Well, you have to share with everybody else—" Meeks gave her a swooning kiss "—but I guess some forms of sharing involve taking turns..." 

"So can I call you mine for the moment?"

Charlie smiled. "Yeah, you can call me that."