Tug of War 15

The next morning, as soon as they entered the kitchen, Susan gave Timothy the pills she had talked about the night before. 

"Are you sure this is safe?" the boy asked, looking hesitantly at the pink pill in his hand.

"Of course, Timmy. I'd never put your safety at risk."

"But what exactly is this going to do?"

"I told you before, silly! It’ll help you lose weight. Nothing extreme, though. Just enough to fool your father. Now trust me and take the pill. You know we don't have much time" she finished, handing the boy a glass of water. 

Timothy was still unsure about that, but he concluded that I single diet pill wouldn't kill him. If he felt anything strange throughout the day, he'd simply stop taking them. 

"Good girl" Susan said, patting his head and ignoring his angry expression. "It wasn't so difficult, was it? Now we have to hurry. Remember that breakfast must be ready when your father wakes up."

Then, like the day before, Timothy started preparing breakfast under Susan's guidance. It was still difficult, but Timothy had to admit he was slowly getting the hang of it. This fact didn't go unnoticed by his stepmother, who praised the boy as she proudly watched him making coffee, scrambled eggs, pancakes, toast and bacon like a perfect little housewife. 

Things got much harder a little later, though... At the table, Timothy was forced to watch his father eating all the delicious dishes he had made, while the boy had to settle for just half an orange and a glass of detox green juice without sugar, which certainly was the worst thing he had ever tasted. To try to cheer him up, Susan told him that the juice would not only help him lose weight, but would also do wonders for his skin and hair. 

How fabulous, Timothy thought annoyed, as he held his breath to take another sip of that disgusting thing... 

-----

At school, everything was going reasonably well, but the boy knew it wouldn't last long. He had basketball practice that afternoon, after all, and it would be impossible for him to skip it again. At least he had removed the nail polish from his nails before leaving home, so it wouldn't be a problem again. 

But there was something else, as he knew very well... 

As soon as he entered the locker room, Timothy sidled to a far corner, trying not to draw attention. It didn't work as planned, though. His weird demeanor caught the eyes of Adam, the biggest jerk on the team, who looked at Timothy in a peculiar way.

Adam then nudged another guy and whispered something pointing to Timothy. It didn't take long until everyone was looking at the poor boy, who was now desperately trying to put his uniform on as quickly as possible. 

"So, Timmy" Adam said, with an evil grin. "Did you borrow your Mommy's razor or have you gone to the salon to get your body waxed?" 

Upon hearing that, all the boys but Martin burst into laughter. Timothy didn't know what to do. He wanted to respond in kind, but he just couldn't think of anything to say.

"Everybody has been awake that you are a sissy for a very long time, but I see that you decided to make it official now, right, Timmy?" said another boy, while Timothy was still there, holding his shorts with his hairless, smooth legs completely on display. 

"Guys, leave him alone" Martin said, looking unusually serious. 

"Oh, look, the sissy boy has a boyfriend! How sweet!" Adam said, and the guys laughed even harder as they left the locker room… 

Not surprisingly, Timothy's performance in the training was disgraceful – Not only because he was emotionally shaken by what had just happened, but also due to the fact that he was so hungry that he could barely remain standing. At one point, when someone passed the ball to him, he lost his balance and fell to the ground. A little later, he tried to pass the ball to a teammate, but his pass was so weak and clumsy that the ball barely traveled two feet. 

Needless to say, Coach Smith was very disappointed with the boy's performance. "Foster, what the hell is wrong with you?" he shouted, furious. "I think a five-year-old girl would do a better job than you!" 

"I... I'm sorry, sir." 

"I want results not excuses, Foster… And I want now!"

The scolding only made matters worse. Feeling even more distressed, it was like Timothy had never played basketball in his entire life. Near to the end of the training, his team was more than thirty points behind since they were virtually playing with one player less. 

With only two minutes to go, he advanced with the ball again, determined to pass the ball correctly at least once. However, Adam, who was playing in the other team, approached him, and Timothy lost confidence again. 

"Give me the ball, sissy boy!" he said, just before hitting Timothy's face with his elbow, knocking the boy down. Adam then advanced freely to score two more points. 

"That was foul, Couch!" Martin yelled, angry. 

"I didn't see anything wrong" Coach Smith said, barely able to hide his joy. 

"Oh, man, he hit you in the eye!" Martin knelt beside his friend. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine" Timothy said, although it wasn't exactly true. 

"I'll take you to the nurse's office."

Martin then helped Timothy to get up and they left the court, as the other guys laughed and mocked the "new couple"… 

----------

Nurse Grant was very concerned when she saw Timothy's black eye. "Oh, poor little thing" she said, caressing his face. "I don't think someone as delicate as you should take part in those violent sports, my dear. You should look for some activity that suits you better. Have you ever thought about trying..."

"I'm not delicate, Ma'am!" Timothy cried out. 

"Calm down, sweetie. I promise you everything is going to be okay. Now, about you" she said, looking at Martin, "Thank you for bringing him here. You can leave now." 

When Martin got out, she started treating Timothy's eye, using something that burned like hell. "This could have been much worse, but still your eye will take some time to heal completely" she commented. 

"Really? Oh, man, I can’t believe Adam, that son of a…" 

"Watch your tongue, young man. I don't want to see you cursing in my office. Try to keep an ice pack on your eye whenever possible. Also... Oh, wait a minute… I just had a great idea!" she stated, with her eyes shining. "I know how I can mask your black eye!"

"How, Ma’am?"

"Just close your eyes for me, my dear. This will only take a moment."

Timothy did as requested, not so sure it was a good idea. The woman was looking at him in a way that didn't please the boy... Not long after, he felt something soft touching his face, like a brush or something. It wasn’t so bad, he thought. However, it got weird when Mrs. Grant started working not only around his eye, but all over his face. 

"What are you doing, Ma'am?" 

"Shhh... Don't talk now, sweetie. It's almost done" despite her words, it took about five more minutes before Mrs. Grant was finally satisfied. She then handed a small mirror to the boy. 

"So, what you think?" she asked, smiling broadly.

"Wow, my eye looks fine, Ma’am!" Timothy exclaimed, impressed. "It's like it hadn't been hit at all!"

But looking closely at his reflection, Timothy noticed something else… the little acne marks he had on his face were also gone! His face looked flawless, true, but maybe a little too flawless, since it had a softer and less masculine aspect than before, somehow. 

"Mrs. Grant, what did you put on my face?" he asked, while a scary idea took form in his mind. 

"Just something to help you, sweetie. Don't you think you look much better now? Wait, don’t touch your face! You’re going to ruin it!" 

The boy then took a deep breath and asked, " it’s makeup, isn't it?"

"Fine, it’s makeup! This is not a big deal, though. I just used a little bit of foundation and concealer. This is barely noticeable." 

"Mrs. Grant, you shouldn't have done that!" 

"Why not, my dear?" 

 "Because I'm a guy! I can't use makeup!" Timothy claimed, having a hard time to understand how that woman could be so clueless. 

"Well, from what I remember, you weren’t so worried about your 'guy status' two days ago when you came here with your toenails polished pink. Also, I see that now you decided to get rid of your body hair…" she pointed out, and Timothy looked down, blushing deeply.

"This is not like that, Ma’am. The thing is…"

"That’s okay, sweetie. I’m not judging you. Now listen to me. A lot of men use makeup, including famous actors and rock stars..."

"Even so, I can't just walk around school wearing makeup! If someone finds out..."

"Stop being such a baby, honey. I assure you no one will notice it. Now, you better get going or you'll be late for your next class" Before Timothy could say anything else, the woman started pushing him out of her office. "Have a nice day, sweetie" she added, closing the door on his face.

Timothy got paralyzed by fear. There he was, in the middle of a hallway full of students, with makeup on his face. He then forced himself – with an immense effort – to calm down a little bit so that he would be able to think straight again. When he finally managed to do so, he concluded that his best option would be to go to the bathroom and wash his face right away. 

With this plan in mind, he started moving, but he didn't go far before he heard someone calling his name…