Chapter 7 - Okay, scratch that. His best quality is his enormous penis.

TAYLOR

“Did you see Eddie Parks tonight?”  Sandra asked, wiping the salt from her popcorn on a napkin.  “He looked so fat!”

“Someone’s been skipping his lessons with the personal trainer,” Uma sneered, laughing.  “Ew, he was mildly attractive for a while too.  It’s a shame when decent guys with money gain weight.”

“What’s with you and weight?”  I asked, trying to pull my long hair in a ponytail.  Her hair was much longer than mine had ever been and it was annoying the hell out of me.  Not only that but I was getting a weird stomachache.  I hate being a girl.  “You really need to get your priorities straight.”

“As do you,” she replied, narrowing her brown eyes at me.

“Whatever you guys,” Brooke commented, fingering Abby’s nightgown lovingly.  I could tell she absolutely adored it.  “But sorry Abby, I think I have to agree with the other girls for once.  There is so much pressure for girls to be skinny and big busted and perfect and guys can be fat pigs.  If we need to be perfect, why can’t they?  Personally, I like a man that takes care of himself.  If I need to work out and wear make up than he can watch what he eats and work out too.”  She smiled to herself.  “I think our critical eye on men is quite justified, thank you.”

“Bravo,” I replied, clapping.  “You make an excellent point.  I can’t deny it.  I definitely look for a girl who looks good in a bikini…” I trailed off as I noticed several skeptical glares coming in my direction.  I laughed awkwardly.  “Didn’t you love my asshole guy interpretation?”

Brooke smiled.  “Typical guy, not asshole.”  She stretched her long, perfect legs out in front of her.  “But I can’t deny that I dig a guy who’s really ripped.”

“Ooh, girl that’s nice,” Tiffany exclaimed, squealing.  “I like them built like L.L. Cool J.  When they have the washboard abs I melt like butter.  When I see a six-pack my legs just spread on their own!”  Everyone burst out laughing.  “I have no control over my actions once I see the six-pack!”

“Ha-ha, Tiff, you’ve never been able to control your actions!”  Brooke teased, dodging a pillow thrown at her head.  “Nor the spreading of your legs!”

“Well, I can’t help it,” Tiffany protested, in her own defense.  “When I see a man in need I just can’t say no.”  She paused and smiled wickedly.  “Especially when he has a red sports car or his own private jet or a really huge trust fund…”

“Or a really huge dick…” Sandra added.

“Oh yeah, that too,” Tiffany agreed.  This pretending to be a girl for a night was absolutely fabulous.  I was getting the inside scoop of what every teenage guy would give his eyeteeth to know.  I was actually partaking in the sacred ritual known as a slumber party.  The alcohol had long worn off for everybody involved in this festive occasion, thank God.  Abby had consumed way too much tonight and it just didn’t seem fair that I had to suffer because of it.

Brigitte, who had been unusually quiet, finally decided to speak up.  “You know who looked really good tonight?”  All attention was focused on her.  “Taylor Hanson.”

I could feel myself blushing.  I knew those leather pants were the way to go.

“Oh my God, his pants were fucking amazing,” Tiffany commented, admiring her acrylic fingernails.  See?  Those WERE righteous pants.  “I tried to dance with him the entire night.  I think he was totally into me.”

I snorted.  “He was not!  You whored yourself all over me, er, him!  He was doing his damndest to get the hell away from you for Pete’s sake!”  Everyone looked shocked at my outburst.  I suppose I’d been a little too harsh but with my luck Brooke would immediately assume Tiffany and I would date.

“Wow…” Brooke commented, clearing her throat a little to break the silence.  “Do you know him personally?”

“Well, kind of…” I babbled, hoping I wasn’t going to get caught.  I highly doubted they’d assume I was Taylor trapped in Abby’s body but the last thing I wanted while I was trapped in this body was to alienate myself from the one girl who completely enthralled me.

“Ugh, I don’t see what the big fascination is with those loser Hanson boys,” Uma interjected, rolling her eyes.  “Frankly, I think they are the epitome of everything vile.  I am completely baffled that any one of us would actually bring them into this conversation.  Need I remind you that we only talk about people who actually matter.”

“You cannot tell me that you don’t think the Hanson brothers matter!”  Brigitte exclaimed.  “Oh my God, they are like the only people in our school who ever were famous!  Other than Brookie of course!”  Brigitte gave Brooke a wink.

“I’m hardly famous,” she insisted.

“Whatever,” began Brigitte.  “But, I think Taylor Hanson is kind of handsome.  He’s fresh meat and that’s kind of exciting, you know?  Ooh, would I love to sink my teeth into that!”

“I heard he was really weird though,” Sandra commented, moving so that she was sitting behind Brooke.  She began running her fingers through Brooke’s shiny blonde hair and started putting it into funky hairstyles.  “He hangs out with those loser guys…um, I don’t know their names.  And, I heard he never talks to anyone.”

I did not like where this was going at all.

“He tried to talk to me once,” Brooke remarked, pointing a random finger.  It was as if she was trying to remember that glorious day when she told me off.  It’s a day I personally will never forget.  “He seemed like every other rich, successful blockhead on the planet.  I didn’t even give him the time of day.”

“Yeah, and why the hell not?”  I demanded, angrily. 

Brooke looked slightly taken aback and I immediately felt guilty.  “Well, um, he just seemed like this over-confident, pompous jerk.”

“Well, how would you know?”  I questioned, a little more gently.  “You didn’t even give him a chance!  He could have been the nicest, most decent guy in the world and you’ll never know.”

“I guess you’re right, Abby,” Brooke replied, swallowing hard.  “I guess it was my bad.  You must know him really well then?”

“Sure I do,” I continued, quickly.  Hell, I might as well make myself look as good as possible.  This was my one opportunity to make a good impression on Brooke without the pressures of actually having to impress her as a man.  “He’s a great guy.”

“Is he now?”  Tiffany exclaimed, twirling her hair.  Her head was tilted slightly to the side, which reminded me of a dog cocking its head to hear something.  “Tell me everything you know about him!”

Suddenly all eyes were centered on me.  I was basking in the attention, to tell you the truth.  It’s not everyday that one gets to build himself up to be a god in the eyes of women.  I was going to milk this to the fullest.

“He’s kind of a quiet guy,” I began, thoughtfully.  I wanted all of this to sound as believable as possible.  “He just doesn’t usually find people who stimulate his mind.  He’s very thoughtful and generous too.  And he loves children, he’s got six brothers and sisters.  He’s a ton of fun to hang around with.”

“He actually seems decent,” Brooke commented, as Sandra continued to play with her hair.  “You’ve never really mentioned him before.  You have a really high opinion of him though.  So, he must be a good guy.”

I grinned.  Brooke was so perfect.  I didn’t think it would be physically possible for a girl to actually live in complete perfection.  But here she was in living color.  Sigh, I guess dreams really do come true…

“He seems boring to me,” insisted Uma, yawning.  “Who really gives a shit whether or not he has a big family?  Big families are so blasé.  They are so entirely Leave It to Beaver.  I think the real reason he never speaks to people is because people don’t want to speak to him.”

“You know what I think?”  I snapped, angrily.  “I think you are a hungry, arrogant socialite that shoots her mouth off on things she has no idea on.  Maybe if you actually shut your mouth for once you might actually find yourself popular because people like you, not because of Daddy’s bank account.”

Uma narrowed her eyes at me.  “What the hell got into you?  It’s obvious that you’ve been hanging out with that gutter rat because it seems as though you’ve developed his same delusional attitude.  I don’t know who you think you are exactly…”

“Whoa guys, just stop it,” Brooke protested, coming in between our two flaring tempers.  Things were definitely heating up and I didn’t want to have to beat the snot out of anorexic Barbie.  This girl was so insufferable, how did any of these girls manage to call her a friend?

Uma shot up the bird and I just rolled my eyes off at her.  For someone who considered herself so far above everyone else, she certainly lacked class.  Okay, one… two… three… calm and collected.  I am calm and collected.

“Do you think he’s slept with a lot of women?”  Tiffany asked, out of the blue.  Oh great, the question I dreaded most.  “Because I totally wanted to fool around with him.  And you know what?  He avoided it completely.”

“Oh my God, do you think he’s gay?”  Brigitte asked, with a gasp.

“He is most definitely NOT gay!”  I exclaimed.  Hell, I was a man.  I needed to stick up for myself in times of dire necessity such as these.

“Have the two of you, you know, been involved?”  Sandra asked, with a giggle. 

“Oh, no!  We’re just good friends,” I insisted, quickly.

“Good thing because I know Tiff wants a piece of him,” she replied.  Tiffany nodded in complete agreement.  Ugh, I do NOT want a piece of that girl since she’s probably got at least fifteen different cases of venereal disease.

“What would you say is his best quality?”  Brigitte asked, excitedly.

I pretended to ponder.  “Gee, that’s a hard question.  He’s got so many admirable qualities that make it so hard to narrow it down to just one.”  So I like to toot my own horn a little.  So what?  “I would say it’s his dedication to people he cares about.”  The girls just kind of smiled, obviously not impressed with my answer.  I should have realized something as meaningful and virtuous as love of family and friends would have been lost on this bunch of socialites.  Okay, so I needed something less substantial and more impressive to the female mind.  “Okay, scratch that.  His best quality is his enormous penis.”  There, I actually said it.

Five mouths fell open in complete awe.

“No way!”

“Are you kidding?”

“Have you seen it?”

“How big are we talking exactly?”

I shouldn’t have been beaming with happiness.  I really shouldn’t have.  My penis is hardly enormous and all these girls firmly believed it was.  How pathetic am I to start my own rumor?  I suppose I should just go with the flow.  Nothing I can do to stop it now, right? 

“Ugh, what time is it?”  Brooke asked, standing up.  She stretched her legs out a little bit before she walked over to her alarm clock.  “6:38 in the morning.  We must have been talking for hours.”

“Well, I’m exhausted!”  Sandra exclaimed, lying down on her back.  “We have partied majorly hardcore and I think we need a little R&R.”  She moved only to reach her sleeping bag and silk pillows.

Within a half an hour, everyone was fast asleep with one exception.  Me.  For the life or me, I could not get myself to fall asleep.  It’s not that I’m not tired, believe me I am.  This stupid stomachache was unbearable to ignore.  With a grunt of discomfort, I stood up.  My hand immediately flew to my stomach, which continued to throb almost rhythmically. 

“Hey, are you all right?”  Brooke asked, opening an eye.  She sat up and smoothed her ruffled hair.  “You look like you’re going to vomit or something.”

I shrugged miserably.  “I just have a terrible stomachache.  It hurt a little before but now it’s like a bomb.  It exploded into this throbbing pain.”

Brooke stood up and pulled me out of her bedroom.  We silently made our way to her personal bathroom and she opened the medicine cabinet.  She promptly pulled out the Pepto Bismol and poured me the appropriate serving.  I took it willingly, hoping it would cease the stomachache from hell.  She smiled, took the plastic cup and rinsed it out at the sink.

“Hopefully you’ll feel better soon,” she commented, putting the Pepto Bismol back in the medicine cabinet. 

I nodded.  “How did you know I was awake?”

“I’m a light sleeper,” she replied, with a shrug.  She led me out of her bathroom and shut off the light.  “Want to sit outside for a while?  I know we missed sunrise but it should still be pretty out.”

“Sound’s great,” I answered, smiling.  This would be absolutely perfect setting to create the mood.  It was a shame I was a FUCKING GIRL!  Sometimes I really hate my life. 

We opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the porch, newly warmed by the soothing sun.  Her backyard was impressive, with an enormous lawn, in-ground swimming pool with three slides, a huge enclosed jacuzzi, and swing.  Who said money couldn’t buy happiness?  Lord only knows how much fun Isaac, Zac, and I could have had living in a place like this when we were children. 

“Wow, Brooke, your backyard is almost as impressive as your house!”  I exclaimed, taking everything in slowly.  Although I could never cry over lack of money, it didn’t seem probable that I had that kind of money.  I suppose my parents have decided to raise my siblings and I as normally as possible but it just didn’t feel as though I was as rich as this.  From our music career, we’re easy millionaires.  I wonder if Brooke could even surpass that… Maybe she’s a billionaire?  I decided to ignore my itching nose and let it be.  It wasn’t my business anyway.  

She laughed at my comment.  “It’s nice I guess.”

I raised an eyebrow.  “It’s nice?  Talk about an understatement.”

She smiled and sat down at the edge of her porch and I took the liberty of sitting down next to her.  We remained silent for a couple of minutes.  She had a certain look on her face.  It almost looked as though she was pondering something.  Just as I was about ready to ask her what was on her mind, she decided to speak.

“Do you think I’m a selfish princess?”

I was taken slightly aback.  “What do you mean?  Of course you’re not a selfish princess.  Why would you ask me something like that?”

She sighed heavily.  “Abby, you hardly know me.  I guess it was stupid to ask you.”  She leaned back on her hands and stretched her feet out in front of her.  “But at the same time, I suppose it’s probably best to ask you.  You know me the least and you’re the newest at Dayton.”

“You’re not selfish,” I repeated, firmly.  She gave me a pathetic smile.  “You’re not!  You’re friends are selfish.  Your friends are spoiled, egotistical, insufferable drama queens.  You are different.”

“Tell me how you really feel about my friends,” she teased, cracking a genuine smile.  “I know they’re not exactly poster children for humanitarian ethics but I’ve grown up with them.  They’ve been my friends for my entire life and I just don’t fit in with them anymore.  I used to be the worst of all of them too, believe it or not.  It’s like, two years ago when my parents divorced something inside me changed.  My mind went from shopping, boys, money, and diets to people, education, and awareness.  I hated it to.  I wanted to go back to being happy, even if it was only superficial happiness with superficial people.  It’s easier to go on in ignorance.  And for a while, I tried to talk to my friends about all the things going through my head and it only seemed to divide us more.  I slowly became more and more aware of how different I am from everyone I’m surrounded by and it’s so hard.  I’ve finally given up trying to be like them.  And now, now sometimes I just feel so lost…”

I put my arms around her as she let out an exhausted sigh.  I hardly knew what to say to her.  The once semi-tolerable guilt factor has now multiplied ten-fold.  Brooke thought she was opening herself up to Abby not Taylor Hanson.  This was none of my business and I didn’t think I was capable of handling such a situation.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry Abby!”  She exclaimed, separating herself from me.  “Look at me, I invite you over to have a good time and I end up dropping a bomb on you.  I’m really sorry about that.  I swear, I don’t usually bombard people with my feelings like that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I insisted, putting a reassuring hand on her knee.  “That’s what friends are for.  Besides, you must have been holding that in for a long time.  It’s good to get things like that out.  Don’t ever apologize for that, okay?”  Whew, nice job, Hanson.

Brooke stood up and extended her hand to help me up.  She gave me another warm hug and smiled.  “You know Abby, You’re an amazing friend.”

The name’s Taylor, and you’re welcome.

I nodded sheepishly.  If you REALLY want to thank me feel free to date me when I return to my normal body.  Suddenly a pang of sheer agony ripped into my stomach.  I grabbed my stomach and let out a wail of pain.  What was wrong with this girl?  If she was going to die and I was the one trapped in the corpse I would come back from the dead and kill her (or me rather) personally.

“Oh my God, Abby!”  Brooke shouted, running back towards me.  “What’s wrong?  What is it?  It is still your stomach?  The Pepto should have started helping by now!”  She quickly ushered me inside and I sat down at her kitchen table.  She got me a glass of water and worriedly handed it to me.

“I’ve never had a stomachache like this,” I whined, gulping down the water.  “Even when I ate twelve spicy mega-burritos with extra beans with Zac I didn’t feel this bad.”

“Is Zac a friend?”  Brooke asked.  I could tell she wanted to get my mind off of the searing pain using the small talk tactic.

“Yeah,” I replied, miserably.  “We’re really close.”  I stood up slowly and pushed in my chair.  “I have to use the restroom.  If I’m not dead by the time I come out, I’ll be right back.”  Brooke smiled stiffly.  I suppose with her being so worried about me the humor was lost on her.

I closed the bathroom door behind me and groaned.  I will not die, I will not die.  Standing in front of the toilet, I pulled down my pants.  Damn it!  I’m still a girl!  This was so disgusting.  Not that sitting on a toilet was so bad since guys do that anyway, but I refused to look at Abby’s, um, pee-pee.  Words cannot describe exactly how grotesque this truly is.  I closed my eyes and sat down on the toilet.  After I had finished, I wanted to kick myself yet again.  Maybe wiping was unnecessary for girls?  Maybe it was only something they did for fun?  Maybe it was a story men made up?  Still sitting on the porcelain prince, I pondered how long it would take to drip-dry.  Was it possible to air-dry a vagina?  Oh God, I thought the dreaded V-word.

Little did I know that at that point, that was the least of my problems.

“HOLY HELL!”

“Abby?  What’s wrong?”  Brooke called, from outside the door.  “Are you okay in there?”

I really AM going to die.  I cannot believe it.  Did Abby do this on purpose?  Did she purposely switch bodies with me because she knew she only had so long to live?  Why would she want to switch bodies with a boy even if she had plotted this body switching ordeal?  Was Abby gay?

“ABBY!  What is it already?”

“I’m bleeding!”  I cried, helplessly.

“Bleeding?”  She asked, less panicked.  “Where did you cut yourself?”

“I DIDN’T cut myself!”  I exclaimed, feeling as though the room was getting smaller.  Lord, I think I’m going to faint.  “Oh my God, it’s everywhere!”

“Well, where is it coming from?”  Brooke asked.  “Do you want me to come in there?”

“No!”

“Brooke?  What’s going on?”  Tiffany asked, with a yawn.  “I heard yelling and it woke me up.  Is Abby in the bathroom?”

Oh, great.  Now there’s an audience.  Could my life be any more unbearable?  Whilst my life is flashing before my eyes, people are watching my agony like it’s one of those sappy Lifetime movies. 

“Goodbye Mom.  Goodbye Dad.  Goodbye Isaac.  Goodbye Zac.  Goodbye…”

“Abby, please let me come in,” Brooke pleaded.  “I can help you!  We’ll stop the bleeding together.  Just unlock the door!”

“I can’t!  You don’t understand!”

“Is Abby, like, suicidal?”  Tiffany asked, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.  “Because if she is that would look really bad for your next party.”

“Abby, tell me why you can’t let me in!”

“Because the blood is coming from my insides!”  I screamed.  “It’s all in my underwear and everything!”

Brooke and Tiffany burst out laughing.  How dare they be laughing at something as horrible as this?  I was in the act of DYING and these two were yucking it up.  Tiffany I wasn’t surprised about, but Brooke?  I think I can hear my heart breaking.

“Go ahead and laugh at a dying man, er, person!”  I screamed, feeling the tears stream down my face. 

“Abby!”  Brooke began, trying to fight her laughter.  “You’re not dying.”

“I’m not?”  I asked.  “How do you know?”

Again laughter ensued.  “Because it’s only your period, stupid!”  Tiffany shouted, before laughing again.

My period.  Wait a minute, not MY period!  Abby’s period!  Oh my God, women bleed this much?  Now, I know that women bleed once a month, I’m not retarded.  I had no idea they could bleed an ocean.  I assumed it was like a couple drips or something, not that I suppose I ever really contemplated menstruation.

This is so GROSS!  How am I supposed to deal with this?  My underwear was completely ruined and I did not want to face the V-word.  My hands started shaking and once again the prospect of fainting seemed desirable. 

“Abby, how old are you?”  Brooke asked.

“Seventeen,” I mumbled.  Was this my punishment for sitting in on an all-girl slumber party?  Life just wasn’t fair.

“And you’re just getting you’re period now?”

“I guess I’m a late bloomer,” I replied, gritting my teeth.  “Now do you have Band-Aids in here?  I need to stop the bleeding somehow.”

Again with the laughter.

“Um, I only have tampons,” Brooke exclaimed.  “Do you have any pads, Tiff?”  There was silence so I assumed she shook her head no.  “Do you know how to put in a tampon?”

I think I turned pure white.  “NO!”

“Well, guess what?  You get to learn!”  Brooke exclaimed.  “Now, there’s a box of them underneath the sink.  Let me know when you found them.”

Whatever happened to the Band-Aid theory?  That seems like a much better idea.  I couldn’t TOUCH the V-word!  Abby would kill me and I would gladly kill myself.  Unfortunately, I found the plastic applicators and pulled one out of the pink box with trembling hands.  If Isaac or Zac EVER found out about this I would have to change my name and move to South Dakota.

“Found it,” I mumbled, weakly.  Maybe there was a way to put it in without actually touching the V-word. 

“What’s going on down here?”  Uma exclaimed, pulling her robe tightly around her.  “I’m trying to get my beauty sleep and it’s impossible with all this racket going on down here!  Now, what the hell are you all doing up at eight in the morning?”

“Abby got her period for the first time!”  Tiffany squealed.

“What?”  Sandra exclaimed, as she and Brigitte came down the staircase. 

Gee, why doesn’t everyone and their mom just come down and bask in my misfortune?

“Abby’s got her period and it’s like the world has stopped turning,” Uma supplied, rolling her eyes.  “Is this really such a big deal?”  

“It’s her first time,” Tiffany explained, shooting Uma a dirty look.  “It’s really entertaining because she knows about as much about periods as a twelve year old boy.”

“I heard that!”  I shouted, angrily.  I’ll bet she doesn’t know that I WAS a twelve year old boy not too long ago.

“Okay, now Abby just take it out of the plastic wrapper and put it in.  There are directions on the box if you get confused,” Brooke advised.

Uma snorted.  “What’s to be confused about?”

“I can’t do this!”  I shouted, pleading with God for mercy.  “I’m scared!”

“Don’t be scared!”  Brigitte shouted.  “You can do it!  Go for it!”  Gosh, I wonder who the cheerleader in this group is?

“What if I put it in the wrong hole?”  I exclaimed, setting the tampon far away from me.  I would have to find a new way to stop the bleeding.  Hmm, I wonder if Brooke had any corks lying around in her bathroom.

“If you put it in the wrong hole, you’ll know it,” Sandra explained, snickering.  “But I don’t think you need to worry about it.  You know what your vagina is, right?”

Yeah, I haven’t been born yesterday thank you.

“Just don’t think about it,” Brooke explained, biting her thumbnail.  “Do what the box tells you to do and then you’ll be all set.  I’ll go get your bag from my bedroom.  I’ll be right back, okay Abby?’

“Okay.”  Sure, just desert me in my time of need.  I took a hold of the box and inhaled deeply.  It was now or never.  I needed to stop that insufferable bleeding and if inserting some plastic applicator will end my suffering, I will just have to suck it up and be a man… I now see the error in that thought.

Ten minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom a broken man.

“Abby?  Are you all right?”  Brooke asked, biting her lip.  She handed me Abby’s bag as I just vacantly stared past her.  What I had just endured was inhumane.  I holed myself back into the bathroom and changed my underwear, throwing the ruined pair in the garbage.  I re-emerged and walked past the girls, avoiding their concerned and questioning glances. 

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Tiffany exclaimed, breaking the silence.  She put her hand on my shoulder and grinned.  “Just think, you’ll be a pro at it by tomorrow!  It’s just like riding a bike.”

I choked.  “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, in about four hours you’ll probably have to change it for another one,” Brooke explained, soothingly.  “Since it’s your first day of your period, it’ll be heavy for a while.  Are you on birth control?”

“I don’t know!”  I protested, throwing my hands in the air.  “I’m sorry, Brooke, but this was a huge ordeal for me and I think I’d just like to lie down and try to get some sleep.  No offence, it’s just that I need to deal.”

“Oh, okay,” she answered.  “That’s completely understandable.  Let’s all go and get some shut-eye.  I think we could all use some beauty sleep.”

Uma rolled her eyes.  “Speak for yourself.”  She turned to Sandra.  “You know, I never freaked out like this when I got my period.  She’s how old?  Seventeen?  She should have been expecting it for a long time.”

I completely ignored a perfectly good reason to lash out at Uma.  That in itself showed exactly how appalled I was at the entire experience as a whole.  When we got back to Brooke’s room, I curled up in Abby’s sleeping bag and lay awake in mental agony.  Tonight I have crossed a serious line between the sexes.  I have done what no man has done or should ever do before.  Tonight, I blossomed into a woman.