Women's Studies Ch. 15

"Speaking of fun," Audrey said, bumping my shoulder with her own. "did anything happen on this date?"

"No!" I told her. "You said to play hard to get."

"Hard to get, not impossible," Audrey said. "You could have at least given him something."

"We didn't exactly have that kind of privacy," I blushed. "We did kiss though."

"Oh no, alert the fourth grade! You kissed!" Audrey gasped.

"And he told me he loved me," I added.

"What?" Audrey exclaimed rolling over to face me.

"It sort of just popped out, but he said it," I smiled.

"And what did you say?"

"I told him I loved him too," I sighed. "It feels so weird. I mean, we barely know each other, right? But at the same time, it feels like he knows me better than anyone. And every time I'm near him I just..." I trailed off, unable to find the right words.

"Little Lexi is in love," she smiled warmly down at me. "I'm happy for you."

"You don't think it's too fast?"

"Real love happens in the blink of an eye," she said. "Sure, you can train yourself to love someone over time, but the real stuff sweeps you away before you know what's happening." The way she spoke about it, I had the feeling she was speaking from her own past experience, but I didn't pry.

Worn out from my day, I settled into bed and Audrey joined me shortly after, stripping down to just a yellow thong before cuddling up to me with her head resting on my bosom. As I lay on my back with Audrey draped across me, I felt a little awkward, like I was doing something wrong. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was my sister, I'd gotten over that long ago. It was the feelings of arousal stirring inside that now felt strange. I couldn't help but wonder what this would all mean. Trevor and I had officially been on a date, and confessed that we were in love. What did that mean for Audrey and I, or for Kennedy and Abigail? I loved them as well. I loved their bodies, and the things they did to me. I loved the sweet kisses and the hungry passion. Was I going to have to give all that up? Did I want to? And what did all of this mean with Trevor? He told me he loved me, but he was in school at The University of Arizona, in Tucson. It wasn't far from Phoenix, but it was far enough to make things complicated. Were we going out now, or were we just in a holding pattern? It was strange feeling so good about the day I'd had, and so confused about my future.

Sleep came with difficulty, and the morning came all too quickly. Showing a stunning amount of solidarity, Audrey pulled herself out of bed before I woke and made a coffee run, allowing me to wake to the scent of Italian roast and French vanilla. After my first cup, I took my time in the shower, letting the warm water wake me up before going to work with a razor to make sure everything was silky smooth. Patricia had made a point to send me a message about the importance of my appearance today. My impression was going to mean as much as our defense. I had to look every inch the woman I was for the cameras and the courtroom.

A garment bag was delivered to our room while I was in the shower, containing my outfit for today. It was more formal than anything I had worn before. Sure, that red dress Abigail had given me was pretty formal, but this was of a different kind. It was an expensive skirt suit, much like the ones that Patricia wore. Inside the bag were also undergarments, and a printed out set of instructions about details I should pay attention to.

Following her instructions, I dressed. I found it odd that she made notes about how much of my stocking tops should show when I crossed my legs, or how to adjust my white blouse so that I could accidentally show my cleavage, as well as a hint of my black lace demi-cup bra. The black pumps she sent me were adequate, but I opted for my own heels. Louboutin open-toe pumps beat the other pair, hands down. It didn't matter how stylish they were.

I felt like it was a lie, but Audrey convinced me to keep the hair extensions for now. As she put it, it wasn't anything any other woman hadn't done before, much like acrylic nails, or false eyelashes. And besides, my hair looked incredible with it flowing out and around my shoulders like that.

Audrey's attire was a lot more plain in comparison. She was wearing a borrowed gray dress, and a pair of flats that had been buried in the bottom of one of her bags. It felt strange to outshine my sister for once. She had always been beautiful, and even after becoming Lexi, I had always found myself wishing I could be as pretty as her.

At 9:30am sharp, a town car arrived to pick up Audrey and I to take us to the courthouse. It was a surprise to see the entrance to the hotel clear of reporters. I had steeled myself for the onslaught, but they were gone. Even Audrey commented on the strangeness as we climbed into the car.

The courthouse was only ten minutes away, and when we arrived, it was clear that every reporter working my story was there. It wasn't just reporters waiting either, there must have been hundreds of people outside, crowding the courthouse steps and the surrounding lawn. Some were holding signs and others chanting. The noise was audible even through the town car's soundproofing.

"I think I might be sick," I announced, feeling a wave of anxiety induced nausea sweep over me. This was a thousand times worse than the mob that had begun forming outside the hotel the other day.

"Deep breaths, Sweetie," Audrey squeezed my hand as she scowled out the window.

I was beginning to wonder why the hell I wore heels today. If these people turned ugly, they could tear me apart before I could stagger two feet in these things. The car stopped, and I realized it was too late to change anything. To be fair, it was too late the moment I had decided to stand up to Decker. Everything had been leading to this moment, at this place. The only thing that could have stopped it would have been me, submitting to a life on my knees for a piece of scum, and I was too strong for that. I am too strong for that! I thought, feeling some small amount of fight returning as I remembered why this all was happening. I was here to stand up for myself, and to make sure a cruel man was punished.

I clenched and unclenched my fists, psyching myself up for the battle to come. I wouldn't let these people intimidate me. I wouldn't. I would hold my head high, and march right past them like the confident, powerful woman that I was.

I opened the door, and carefully stepped out. The moment I was in sight, I was struck by a massive cheer of voices. I nearly staggered back, falling into the side of the car. Those voices weren't angry. The signs they were holding weren't filled with hate. Happy voices shouted my name, and people held signs with messages of love and support. #JusticeForLexi, All Women are Women, We Support Lexi, #LGBTRights, and so many more.

Sure, there were a few people that were shouting hate, or holding signs with hurtful messages, but they were overwhelmed by the supporters. There were hundreds of strangers, but some of the faces I recognized. All of my professors stood together, flanked by girls from school. Some I knew in passing, and others I only knew by sight, but they came to support me. Right out in front, stood Trevor in black slacks and a button up shirt, right next to Patricia Shaw and her assistant Ryan.

I didn't know what to do. I stood there with mouth agape, and hand clutching my aching heart. I didn't know something this amazing could hurt so much, but my chest tightened so hard I thought it might tear. I couldn't even prevent the tears from streaming down my face. It was everything I could do to keep myself from breaking down completely into sobs.

Trevor quickly ran to me and swept me up into his arms, holding me to him and rocking me gently back and forth. I didn't know how long it took me to pull it together. The sound of happy voices washed over me as I held onto him, crying into his white dress shirt. When I finally composed myself enough to stand on my own and dry my eyes, Patricia and my sister were standing beside us.

"I hope you approve of my strategy," Patricia said, speaking loud enough to be heard over the crowd.

"How?" I asked.

"Very easily, actually," she replied. "I just posted online that one of our own needed a little support. Your story, and your character did all the rest. Now, if you're ready, it's time to go to work," Patricia smiled confidently.

With Trevor on one side holding my hand, and my sister on the other, we followed Patricia up the courthouse steps. The cheering crowd parted easily before us, creating a bubble of space that quickly closed back around us as soon as we moved forward. When the doors closed behind us, the sound from outside was only muted to a distant rumbling.

The courtroom was nothing like what I expected it to be. It wasn't like television where everything is impressive, made out of fancifully carved dark wood, and there is a huge gallery for people to watch. It was actually quite plain. Nothing at all like Law & Order. There were two plain desks on either side and a slightly raised area for the judge. The gallery was only three rows deep, and the whole room was lit by harsh florescent lights.

The hearing went as Patricia had expected. Since I was born a man, and did not disclose that fact to the school, there were questions of legality, especially since I had signed documents agreeing to the student bylaws and charter that heavily mentioned that Mayweather was an all-girls school, not to mention the expectation of privacy of the other students that the prosecution was leaning heavily on. I was, as they had claimed very vocally, a pervert. There was going to be a trial.

"Don't let that get to you," Patricia said as she gathered her documents. "We expected this, remember. They haven't proven that you've done anything wrong, only that you were born different. We're still in good shape."

"But you didn't even say anything," Audrey said, storming up now that the proceedings were over. "You just sat there why they said all of those awful things!"

"Audrey!" I exclaimed, feeling uncomfortable. I did agree that Patricia should have said something, but I didn't want Audrey to drive her off. She was doing all of this for free after all.

"Nothing I said here would have changed what happened," Patricia explained. "If I would have argued here and defended Lexi, we would still be going to court, and the prosecution would have a good idea of our defense strategy. As it stands, we can still blindside them, and if we do it right, prevent this from even going to trial."

"The judge just set the trial date," Audrey protested. "How are you going to stop it?"

"By making the prosecution drop the charges," she said simply. "We just have to weaken their case enough, and make them look like they're persecuting a victim because of their gender identity. By the time we're done, they will be standing on our side, ready to throw the book at Mayweather, and Decker."

"You seem pretty sure of yourself," Audrey observed.

"This is what I do," she smiled, snapping her briefcase shut.

I watched her as she slipped past Audrey and I, and walked out of the courtroom. As I was casting my eyes back to Audrey, they snapped back to a group sitting in the far back row by the door. Four people were smiling back at me, and I felt a wave of surprise for the second time that day. It was Abigail, Kennedy, and Skylar, accompanied by a slightly worn looking George Lockwood. He was alive!

I couldn't even find words as I ran to them. They jumped up as I neared and ran to me. Abigail, Kennedy and I crashed into a stumbling three-way hug.

"You look amazing!" Kennedy said, touching my longer hair.

"You're dad's alive!" I exclaimed.

"We came to help you," Abigail said, each of us talking over one another.

As we gabbed like girls, Trevor, Audrey and Mr. Lockwood joined around us.

"Hey Kiddo," Mr. Lockwood said, giving me a one-armed hug. "I've heard you've been having a tough go of it lately."

"I heard the same about you," I said. "I'm glad you're okay."

"It'll take more than that to keep George down," Skylar smiled. "Sorry we weren't here for you sooner, but this one had to crash in the worst possible place on a mountain."

There was something between Skylar and Mr. Lockwood, but I didn't have time to place it because we were interrupted. Warren Jones, the Dean of Mayweather came over.

"I only just saw the news on my way over here!" he said excitedly, holding his hand out to Mr. Lockwood. "I'm so glad you're okay. About this whole...situation-," he began before George cut him off, staring pointedly at the outstretched hand for a moment.

"That's exactly why I'm here," he said, nodding to me. "I came to support a family friend."

The Dean's eyes flickered towards me, and the color seemed to drain from his face. It appeared that he had failed to read the situation before he rushed over to rub shoulders with the Lockwood's.

"If you don't mind, our conversation will have to wait until later," George said in a clear dismissal. "There are several things happening at your school that disturb me...and my friends."

The mention of George's friends, whoever they were, seemed to strike the Dean as much as his own disapproval. With a worried look and a nod of deference, he backed away and disappeared through the doors.

I left the courthouse feeling much better than I had when I arrived. The crowd of people showing their support were still waiting outside, and even more news vans than I remembered coming in. That was quickly explained once we pressed through the initial crowd though. It seemed that with the return of Mr. Lockwood, my fifteen minutes of fame had taken a hit. I wasn't upset in the slightest.

Audrey and I caught a ride back to our hotel in the Lockwood motorcade. Four SUV's and at least a dozen or so private security personnel seemed excessive, but then again, it made sense. Nearly everyone in the world had their eyes turned toward George right now. That kind of attention could bring trouble.

I wasn't surprised when I learned that they were staying at the hotel with us, or even that George had booked the sprawling penthouse suite for he and his daughters, as well as an entire floor for his security staff.

Abigail tried to insist that we move up into the suite with them, but I declined. I would have felt awkward intruding on a delicate situation. Their father just went through a lot, and it had to be a little awkward adjusting to a new sister, and daughter. But the real reason, the reason I avoided, was that I didn't know where any of us stood any longer. They knew they were sisters now, and I was in love. I still loved them, and I always would, but Trevor filled a part of me that I hadn't known was missing until he showed me. And what about them? Abigail had very strong views on incest, and her tolerance of my own indiscretions was a far cry from indulging in her own. It was much simpler to stay where I was.

We had barely made it into the elevator when Patricia called me. With the headway we had gained from our public opinion swing at the courthouse, she had decided to press the schoolboard for a meeting, sooner rather than later. Surprisingly they agreed to meet right away. So, after Audrey got off on our floor, I found myself riding back down to the second floor so I could take the bridge to the parking structure.

With the drive, and finding downtown parking, I arrived at the law offices on the 18^th floor only moments before the school board. I was able to catch a glimpse of them stepping off the elevator as Ryan led me into a conference room much larger than we had used before. Patricia was already seated in the center of the long end that faced the doorway; her expression could be called nothing but beaming.

"Five minutes?" Ryan asked.

"Better make it ten," Patricia told him. "Make them sweat a little."

As Ryan left, Patricia pulled out the chair next to her and gestured for me to sit with her.

"You seem like you're in a good mood," I said hopefully.

"You never told me that you were friends with George Lockwood," Patricia smiled.

"I told you that I was friends with Abigail, and that I'd spent time with them on Thanksgiving," I replied.

"Being his daughter's friend and spending one holiday together doesn't usually make you a family friend of someone like George Lockwood," Patricia explained. "Has he always known about you?"

"I never told him, and I couldn't imagine Abigail telling him either," I said honestly.

"However it happened, it's put them off balance," she explained. "In a few minutes, Ryan will bring them in. Try to let me do all the talking."

After several minutes of waiting in silence, Ryan led in a long line of people. Seven men and two women filled all but one seat on their end of the table. I found it strange that there were only two women on the board of an all-girls college. It was a little overwhelming, so many of them on one side, and only Patricia and I on the other, but when I looked over to her, she was still wearing that self-assured smile.

"I'm glad that you decided to meet with us," Patricia said welcoming them warmly, as if they were close friends.

"We could hardly decline," an older gentleman directly across from us spoke. "One of the school's biggest contributors threatened to remove his support if we refused."

"Whatever your reasons, I'm still glad that we could have this time to discuss the situation as it stands," she continued. "You have filed charges against my client for fraud and voyeurism because, as you have very vocally told everyone, she is a man." Patricia paused for a moment, slipping a sheet from the folder in front of her. "Have you read your bylaws, or your charter?" she asked curiously. "Because I have. Do you know how many times the sex of a student is mentioned? Zero. Sure, it mentions girls and women, and uses pronouns like she and her, but it doesn't mention the sex of students once!"

"Now hold on, Mayweather was established as an all-girls school," one man said, with sounds of agreement coming from all along their side of the table. "It is clearly stated."

"You're confusing gender for sex," she countered. "The definition of gender, by Merriam Webster: the behavioral, cultural, or psychological traits typically associated with one sex," Patricia read. "Not the sex of a person, but their traits. Now if you try to say that she doesn't have those traits, just remember, she was an enrolled student, and accepted by her teachers and peers for the better part of a year before anybody noticed a thing."

"Gender is how we identify ourselves, whereas sex describes the physical characteristics we are born with. While my client might have been born male, she clearly identifies as female," Patricia argued. "Here is a signed testimony from a licensed therapist, affirming Lexi's identity. There is also the surgery. No simple pervert would go so far just to spy on girls," she added. "What this is beginning to look like is gender discrimination. So, exactly what side of this does Mayweather want to fall on? Your school was, after all, founded to empower a group of individuals who were disenfranchised during the time period. Will you be turning your back on that sentiment now?"

Before they had a chance to react, Patricia stood up and collected her folder, tucking back in a loose sheet of paper. "We will give you a moment to discuss," she said.

Following Patricia's lead, we left the room while they discussed it amongst themselves. I was amazed, Patricia had been like a bulldozer, rolling right over them. Her argument was brilliant too. One of the only things I knew about laws was that the wording meant more than the intent the framers had when they wrote them. If Patricia was right, and their bylaws and charter never mentioned a student's sex...it was almost too much to hope for.