Another Jan Brady (Patreon)

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Riding down the street on her bicycle, Jan Brady was very excited. She quickly pedaled her blue girl's style bike down the sidewalk towards her house. Although her hair was tied with a red ribbon, it was blowing in the wind over her shoulders and down her back. She wore a red jumper over a blue three-quarter sleeve blouse with white accents. The jumper descended passed her thighs, but wasn't anywhere near her knees.

She turned into the driveway where Greg was heading out. Greg was wearing a light blue shirt with blue accents, jeans, and a belt.

Jan stopped her bike at the edge of the driveway and dismounted. She placed it on the grass adjacent to the driveway.

“What's the hurry,” Greg called.

“I have to practice.”

“For what?”

“I'm going to be a POM-POM girl. Tryouts are in a few days. I saw the poster.”

“Oh,” Greg replied. He had also seen the poster at the high school they both attended. Greg didn't have any interest in that sort of thing. He had more important concerns. He wanted to buy a car. He was heading to the bank to withdraw his money. He wanted to use it as a down payment on a car in which he saw at a dealership. Mom and dad told him he could buy a car if he used his own money. He had saved several hundred dollars to this end.

“This is so exciting. I'm going to be a POM-POM girl,” Jan reiterated.

Greg didn't want to rain on Jan's parade, by telling her his own exciting news.

Jan was a freshman. She was just making her way at Westdale High School, Greg was a senior. He was at the top of the high school's social scene. Marcia had been more popular at the school, but she is a girl, so that didn't count, not to Greg.

Jan left her bike on the floor and ran into the house. Greg exited to do his own errands.

Greg was in more of a cloud than Jan was. He was going to buy a car of his very own. He wouldn't have to drive the Brady station wagon on his dates. His dad wouldn't let Greg drive his sedan under any circumstances.

Returning home a short time later, Greg hadn't decided whether he wanted a coupe or a sedan for his first car. Both had their positive aspects. The sedan was larger, but the coupe was more stylish. Greg couldn't make up his mind.

Seeing a basketball on the grass that surrounded the driveway, Greg decided to let luck determine which to choose.

“If I make the basket (from a three-point distance) then I'll choose the sedan.”

Greg picked up the basketball and then backs up. He retreated step after step. He didn't want the shot to be too easy. He wanted the shot to be difficult, but not impossible. This would be the test.

Without looking where he was stepping, Greg's back foot hit Jan's abandoned bicycle. He tripped over the wheel and fell backward hitting his head on the curve.

Cindy was the first to hear the scream and ran outside. Cindy saw Greg lying on the grass. He seemed dazed but not unconscious.

“Hey, Greg...Greg...Greg, are you alright? Greg, Hey Greg Are you OK, Greg?”

“I'm fine. I must have fallen.” Greg looked down at the bike and was confused. “But, why did you call me Greg?”

“Why did I call you Greg?”

“Yeah.”

“Your not Greg?”

“Cindy, are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.”

“Well, don't you recognize me? I'm Jan!”

“You're Jan?”

“Of course, I'm Jan.”

“You wait right here. Don't get up. I'm getting Mom!”

Act 1:

At the hospital, Mike and Carol met with the Doctor Katherine Porter.

“Well, there is no evidence of a concussion. Everything seems to be perfectly normal,” Doctor Porter told Greg

“Why shouldn't it? I feel fine.”

“Well good. Then you won't mind completing the examination.”

“But what's it for?”

“Just humor me.”

“Alright.”

Mom and dad were watching from the door-well.

“Who am I?”

“Doctor Porter.”

“He's fine,” Mike said from the doorway.

“Who are they?”

“Mom and dad.”

“He's OK.” Mike continued.

“And of course, you know who you are?”

“I'm Jan. Jan Brady.”

“He's sick!” Carol stated.

“Wait right here, I'm going to talk with your parents.”

“Doctor, before you go? What happened to my hair?”

“We had to cut it to patch you up.”

Greg frowned. The long beautiful blond hair he thought he possessed was gone.

The doctor exited the room. She wanted to talk to Mike, Carol, and especially Jan. The entire Brady clan was in a conference room.

“...but, Greg isn't wishing. He thinks that he is me!” Jan told them after the doctor explained what she thought happened.

“Well, the blow to his head caused him to lose his identity and then when he saw your bike, he started to believe he is you. He thinks he crashed his bike.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“It's a lucky thing he didn't trip over Tiger's doghouse,” Bobby joked.

“But he can't be me...because I'm me,” Jan told them.

“She's right. She is Jan!” Bobby spoke again.

“Bobby, will you be quiet?” Mike admonished.

“What can we do to help him?” Carol inquired.

“Until I can come up with a psychiatric approach to the problem, we are going to have to go along with his fantasy.”

“You mean we are still going to have to pretend that Greg is Jan?”

“Exactly. I mean as Jan, Greg will expect to see a Greg among us.”

“Well, where are we going to find a Greg?”

“One of us will have to be Greg.”

“Oh, no. I'm not going to be Greg.” Cindy whined. “I'm not tall enough!”

“Jan is the obvious one to be Greg.”

“Me?”

“Of course, in a suitable wig and costume, why not?”

Carol drove Jan home. They went into the boys' room and found some of the clothes that Greg owned. Carol and Alice had to cuff up the legs and sleeves of the shirts as well as hide her hair under a brown wig which was combed to have a part down the right side.

“I feel silly!” Jan complained.

“We have to help Greg. You heard what the doctor said. If we force him to confront who he is, the shock could destroy his entire personality.”

“But what about me? I'll have to go to Greg's class and do the things that Greg does.”

“Just stay around the house and spend time with your brothers. You'll be fine.”

“Where will I sleep?”

“You'll pretend to sleep in the boys' room. But I'll set up the guest room.”

“And he'll be sleeping with the girls?”

“Yeah, but he'll think he is a girl like they are. It won't make a difference. It'll be worse for Marcia and Cindy than for you.”

“But what about the POM-POM girls?”

“I'm sorry. But you're a freshman, next year will be better.”

“I guess.”

Carol and Alice set up the house the best they could for Greg to take over Jan's position in the household. They carried some of Greg's shirts and jeans and put them in Jan's drawers. They hoped that these unisex items would be sufficient for Greg. The underwear was a different matter. They didn't know how Greg would react if there were male briefs among Jan's panties.

“Let's leave a couple of pairs. Maybe he'll just put them on naturally,” Alice suggested.

“We can just fill up the entire drawer with his underwear and let Jan have hers,” Carol countered.

“He'll expect some panties. Besides boys' briefs aren't too different than girls' cotton panties.”

“We'll put two pairs of Greg's old briefs right on top and see if he puts them on. Alice draped the briefs unfolded over the neat rows of multicolored panties that belonged to Jan. We'll see which he chooses tomorrow morning. If he chooses his briefs we'll add more.”

“Good plan!”

They closed the drawer.

Jan would wear her usual underwear and the modified outerwear of Greg.

Mike drove the rest of the family, including Greg home in the station wagon Greg sat in the front seat. He believed he was was Jan. He pulled down the visor on the windshield to look at himself in the mirror. He saw the face he thought was Jan, but he was disappointed when he saw his hair.

“Why did they have to cut my hair all the way off,” Greg sulked. “How long will it take to grow it back?”

“Don't worry. It'll grow. You just have to get better,” Mike told him.

“I feel fine.”

“I know you do. But, you should just rest. That's what the doctor said.”

“I feel fine. I'm going to school tomorrow.”

“I don't think that is a good idea.”

“I want to go. I feel fine!”

“Aren't you forgetting something?”

“What?”

“It's Friday. There isn't any school tomorrow.”

“I guess you're right. But I don't want to spend the whole day at home.”

“Everyone will be with you.”

“I'll help you through this,” Marcia tried to sympathize.

“You don't understand. They never chopped off all your hair.”

“I'll help you style it.”

“You can't. It's too SHORT!”

“Short hair can be cute,” Marcia tried to encourage him.

“You never had hair this short.”

Marcia knew Greg was right. We'll do something. I promise.”

“I'll help!” Cindy exclaimed.

“Us too,” Bobby and Peter told Greg.

“You're boys. You wouldn't understand!”

“We will too!” Bobby mocked fluffing his hair. Peter joined in.

“Stop it, boys!” Mike warned.

Greg ran out of the car to the girls' room. He ran through the room and to the bathroom and stared at his short hair. “WHY, why did they do this to me? The bump on my head isn't that big. They didn't have to cut off all my hair!!!” Greg started to cry.

Finally, Greg pulled himself together. He returned to the girl's room. The way he felt now, he didn't want to go out. He was done for the day. It was getting late anyway. He looked into Jan's drawers for a pair of pajamas as well as some underwear for the night. He saw the boys' briefs right on top. He brushed them aside. He didn't know why they were in his drawer. Alice must have made a mistake,” he thought. He found a pair of pastel purple cotton panties. They were decidedly female panties. They didn't have a fly and the material was slightly thinner than male briefs.

In a lower drawer, Greg picked out a pair of high blue pajamas. The bodice of the pajamas was button-down with peach accents on the sleeves and collar. It had puff sleeves and was very loose fitting. The bottoms were in the same pattern and accents. It had an elastic waist and didn't have any fly opening at all.

Marcia and Cindy watched as Greg selected his nightwear

Greg put the outfit on his bed and then pulled his shirt over his head.

“Hey, aren't you going to change in the bathroom?” Marcia asked.

“No, why should I.”

“Then I think we had better leave.”

“Why?”

“I just think we should. Come, Cindy.”Naked from the waist up, Greg unfastened his jeans and started to yank them down.

Marcia and Cindy ran out.

“Wait a minute girls. Where's the fire?” Carol asked as the girls ran out of the room.

“Back there in Jan-greg, Greg-jan, whatever his name is.”

“Not so fast. Jan isn't ready yet so I want you to march back there and keep an eye on Greg.”

“What's Jan doing?”

“She is calling all her friends. She is telling them what is going on. You know just in case Greg tries to phone them. What's happening with Greg?”

“Greg is changing.”

“He sure is,” Cindy agreed.

“Oh, no, he wanted to change clothes. You know right in front of us. I didn't want Cindy to see a naked you know.”

“See what?”

“Never mind”

“When he is done, you have to go back and watch him. Greg isn't himself.”

“You're telling me?” Marcia said.

“Yeah, he's Jan,” Cindy continued

“If we want him to get well, we've to help him out, Right?”

“We all got to help him out...You help him.”

“OK, but come back in ten minutes. You understand me!”

“Yes, mom.”

Meanwhile, before stripping off his pants, Greg reached into the pocket and found the hundreds of dollars he withdrew from the bank to buy a car. He took the money. Before removing his pants, Greg hid the money in the back of Jan's lingerie drawer.

When Carol arrived, the money was put away and he was in his underwear.

“He selected the male briefs!” Carol thought.

But a moment later, he pulled down his underwear exposing his penis to his mother. He didn't seem the care. Greg was almost as well endowed as his father. Carol ignored that. Totally naked, Greg reached for the panties on the bed and stepped into them. He pulled them into place and then stepped into the pajama bottoms and the top. The pajamas didn't fit right. They were made for a girl whose body was a few inches shorter than Greg's, but he could get into the apparel. Regardless, Carol could see the outline of Greg's penis under the pajama pants. They were more taught than they were supposed to be.

“Oh, hi mom,” Greg said cheerfully.

“I just want to see how you're feeling.”

“I feel fine.”

“I see that.”

Carol closed the distance between herself and Greg. Then she kissed him on the forehead and left the room.

“Girls you can come back. 'Jan' is decent,” she reported. “He's wearing Jan's pajamas.”

“OK, but I'm not changing in front of him,” Marcia informed Carol

“Me neither!” Cindy confirmed.

“You don't have to. Just keep an eye on him. Girls he is wearing Jan's stuff tonight. I left him some of his regular clothes for tomorrow. He'll have to wear those.”

Greg got into Jan's bed and under the covers. Marcia and Cindy entered and retrieved their nighttime apparel. Cindy decided to wear pajamas tonight, just as Greg had. Cindy's pajamas were pink with vertical ruffles and also pink on both the top and solid pink bottom. Marcia found a long yellow robe with a hem around her ankles and paired it with a matching robe she would wear over it. Both girls entered the bathroom to change clothes. They didn't want Greg to see them in their underwear or worse.

“J-J-Jan, how are you feeling?” Marcia asked as she got into bed.

“I feel fine. I just fell down. It's no big deal. I don't know why everyone is asking me so much.”

“It's because you are different,” Cindy said.

“Different.”

“I mean, you seem different?”

“How?”

“Cindy doesn't know what she's talking about,” Marcia piped in.

“Well, I'm the same Jan Brady I always was. I'm going to school on Monday.”

“If mom says so.”

“I have to, I have to get an application for the POM-POM girls.”

“You're trying out for POM-POM girl?”

“Yeah, I saw the brochure today.”

“I don't know if you should.”

“Marcia, I'll do what I want to. You can't stop me. You're always holding me back.”

“I'm not. It's just.”

“You're jealous. You know I'll be a better POM-POM girl than you were.”

“I'm not jealous. I just think that until you are feeling better...”

“I feel fine!” Greg cut Marcia off.

“But the accident.”

“I SAID, I FEEL FINE!” Greg folded his arms over his chest.

“I'm sure you will make a lovely POM-POM girl.”

“I will!”

“You will certainly be the tallest one!” Cindy remarked.

“What?”

“Hush Cindy!”

“Don't listen to Cindy. She is just having one of those days.”

“I am not.”

“Yeah, You Are!” Marcia stared at Cindy.

“Yeah, right. One of those days.”

“Let's go to sleep.”

Marcia got out of bed and closed the light.

After a few minutes, Greg spoke up. “Marcia?”

“Yes.”

“Can you help me fix my hair? I hate it this short.”

“Tomorrow. I'll see what I can do tomorrow. Go to sleep.

Act 2:

Greg woke up earlier than anyone. It was Saturday, the kids usually slept late.

Greg looked for something to wear. The clothes weren't only very tight, but they also seemed too short for him. The Jumper that he remembered wearing the day before, the one that he rode home on his bike, seemed so short that his panties could clearly be seen. Especially, when he sat down. He couldn't wear that. His bra was also very tight across his chest. It wasn't much more than a training bra to begin with. But as it was too tight, even the cups were stretched flat against his torso. He couldn't wear any pants that were fastened with a button. The button simply wouldn't reach its hole. Greg felt like he was trying to fit into Cindy's clothes. He didn't know what was wrong

Greg looked in Marcia's drawer. He had to wear a bra. He didn't feel right without one. Her bras were bigger for obvious reasons. Greg found a nice 'stretchy' one. He put it on and tried to fasten the hooks in the back. These hooks could reach where his own bras were hopeless. It did take him almost two minutes to fasten the hooks correctly. Even though, with effort, Marcia's bra fit his torso, Greg didn't have the boobs to fill out the front. He took some tissues and use those to make his boobs look bigger. He thought they would help when he auditioned for POM-POM girl.

Marcia woke up when Greg was dressed only in her bra and some panties. He was looking in Marcia's drawer for something to wear. His back was turned on her.

“What are you doing?”

Greg turned to face Marcia. The outline of his dick could clearly be seen. Marcia ignored what she was seeing.

“Getting dressed,” Greg said as he turned around.

“Why are you in my drawers.?”

“My clothes don't fit. I must have had a growth spurt.”

“Well, you can't wear my clothes.”

“Why not?”

“Because they're mine. I don't want you to stretch them.”

“I'm your sister. You are supposed to let me borrow your things.”

“No.”

“You have before.”

“Not this time!”

“But, I want to wear something nice. You have such pretty things and mine don't fit.”

“Mom said there is a pair of jeans and a shirt that you can wear.”

“I don't want to wear them. They're just so plain.”

“Well, you can't wear my stuff.”

“Fine, I've got plenty of clothes. I'm sure I'll find something.”

Greg knew he couldn't wear pants or shirts. They were too small. But a long dress would be OK. They were made out of a stretchier material and could be any length he would just have to see which would fit. He knew he would have to buy some new stuff. It was like he grew overnight.

“You get dressed, not in my clothes, and I'm going to breakfast.”

“I'll be down later.

“You come with me, Cindy I don't want you to see.”

“See what?”

“Never mind,” Marcia told Cindy as she dragged her out of the room.

“But I want to see.”

“No, you don't!”

Greg didn't know what got into Marcia. One thing was sure, he wasn't going to ask her to help him with his hair. He would go to a salon instead. They could artificially lengthen it and color it too. It looked darker than it should be. Greg didn't know why.

Since Greg couldn't wear Marcia's clothes, he had to make do with what he did have. He was going to wear a dress, something knee-length. What was below the knee length on Jan would be above the knee length on Greg. Also, the torso wouldn't sit right. There was little he could do about it. He would have to use the money he had to buy a whole new wardrobe. He would do it right after fixing his hair.

Greg looked through his apparel. Almost everything was too short or too tight or both. It frustrated him greatly.

Greg didn't like tops with U or V-necks. He was self-conscious that his boobs were too small. He didn't know how he had worn these types of things before. He found a dress with horizontal stripes which would hide this problem. He put it on. But the skirt was too short. He was constantly trying to pull it down. He believed everyone would see his panties.

There was another print dress with a knee-length skirt. It fell to his lower thigh, but it was too tight in the hem. It was tough to walk in these without them riding up higher. He found the solution, he got a scissor and cut a slit up the left side. This would allow him to walk.

He looked at himself and liked what he saw. He didn't have boobs as large as Marcia's. He didn't have many curves at all, but his legs were long. They were longer than Marcia's. He determined they were his best feature. He would have to shave his legs though when he took a shower.

Inside the bathroom, he turned on the hot water and disrobed. He discovered not only would he have to shave his legs, but also his chest, underarms, and arms. He couldn't remember the last time he had shaved. It must have been a while he realized. He washed his body off first. He sat on the edge of the tub and shaved his legs. He put his right leg over his left and then put the razor to his ankle and carefully pulled the blade from his ankle up toward his knee. He was as diligent with his second stroke as he was with his first. He took his time as every last hair on his leg was removed. He did nick himself occasionally and blood would flow, but he didn't stop until the job was done.

Greg determined to shave more often. He felt horrified that he had let it get this bad.

Greg didn't bother washing his hair. He would let the salon do it when they lengthened and tinted his hair. He wanted it to be as blond and as long as he remembered it.

Once his shower was concluded, Greg noticed his nails. They weren't painted. He would get them professionally done at the salon too. Price wasn't any object, he had lots of money. He wasn't quite sure where the cash came from, but he was sure this was his money to do with as he pleased. He would spend it on a day of beauty treatments and a whole new wardrobe.

Greg felt the smoothness of his legs with his hand. He enjoyed the feel. They felt so silky. They would look even better if he wore some hose. He didn't usually wear hose that often. His style had been knee-high socks, but that was the old Jan Brady, he was going to make himself into the 'New Jan Brady'. Greg never realized how ironic that thought was.

Returning to the girl's room, Greg put on Marcia's bra despite her protest. He didn't care. He'd buy a new one later. She was being mean not to let him wear her bra. He couldn't go out in public without a bra. He was a young lady.

The second time fastening the hooks of the bra was easier than the first. Greg filled the cups with some tissue to give a hint of cleavage. He was sure true boobs would follow soon. He had sprouted up, soon he'll be sprouting out too.

Greg picked up the dress and pulled it over his head and into place. He liked the slit on the side. Then he remembered the pantyhose. He fetched some and sat down to put them on. Greg didn't know why he was so clumsy when trying to put them on, but with some perseverance, he got them up his legs and into place at his waist. He had to pull the dress back down when he was done. The final garment he wore was a pair of black slip-on sling-back shoes with low heels. He had to release the back strap to its farthest hook before getting his feet into them. They felt tight, but not too uncomfortable. Greg added shoes to the list of things he would have to buy.

Greg was contented with his look, although he knew he would look much better once he got his hair fixed and had apparel that fit him properly.

Act 3:

Greg put all his money into a black purse. He didn't enter the dining area where the family was eating. He ducked into the kitchen, grabbed a yogurt, and then exited the house. He got on Jan's bike which was still where he fell over it and rode off.

“I'll always put my bike away,” he promised himself. He didn't want to have his hair cut so short again.

Greg could feel the breeze up his dress as he rode his bike to the salon. Despite this being the first time, he had ever experienced such a thing, he didn't think anything of it. He simply rode his bike down the street. Some onlookers saw him, others pointed, and others ignored the entire situation. Greg was oblivious to anything being amiss.

Greg stopped his bike in front of the salon. He put it in a safe place and entered.

“Can I help you?” one of the people who worked there asked. Receptionist was too formal a word for her job title. She had never seen a boy in a dress before, except maybe on television.

“Hello, I want my hair lengthened and tinted blond.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don't want to go into it. But the doctor cut it off yesterday. I hate it short.”

“Aren't you Greg Brady?” one of the beauticians asked. She knew the family.

“Greg? Are you crazy? I'm Jan Brady.”

“Jan?'”

“Yes.”

“Jan Brady?”

“That's right.”

“I think maybe I should call your mother.”

“I'm paying for this with my own money. You don't have to call her.”

“I think I should anyway.”

“OK, but can you do my hair today?”

“Not me, I have a client. Someone else can, I guess. Let me call your mother.”

Greg didn't know why they had to. He thought he was Jan at this moment. He justified the call thinking that since he was only thirteen, they might need approval.

“OK, call. Do you have the number?”

“Yeah, I have it.”

“Fine,” Greg smiled.

The beautician phoned and got through to Carol.

“Your boy is here. I think his name is Greg. He says he's Jan though. He wants us to do his hair. Did I forget to tell you, he's wearing a dress.”

“He is?”

“Yes. What should I do?”

“One second.” Carol muffled the phone to talk. Then she returned to the conversation.

“He had an accident. He hit his head. I don't want to go into it, but he thinks he's Jan now. You had better humor him. Give him what he wants.”

“But he wants us to lengthen his hair and make him a blond.”

“It's just hair. It can be fixed. Better to just do what he asks.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Treat him like the real Jan. but if he does anything like Greg would, let us know.”

“Is that really what you want?”

“Yeah.”

“OK. Do you want to come down here?”

“I don't think I should. Can you put the charge on my bill?”

“Not a problem.”

“Can you call when he's done?”

“I surely will.”

“Your mom says it's OK. Hazel will be your stylist today.”

“Thank you,” Greg said as he smiled a second time.

“take a seat.”

Greg sat down.”

“How long do you want it?”

“Down to here.” Greg used his hand to indicate the small of his back.

“That long?”

“That's how long it used to be.”

“I see.”

“You want it blond?”

“Yes.”

“What color?”

“Color? I said blond.”

“Yeah, there are many shades of blonds. There is ash blond, strawberry blond, platinum blond.”

“Umm, I don't know. Can I see the differences?”

After looking at some swatches, Greg guessed his hair should be a shade called champaign blond.

“Are you sure this is the color you want?”

“Yes, please.”

“And down to here?”

“Right.”

“OK, we'll add the extensions first and then do the tinting. We'll start with a wash.”

“Great.”

“Come to the sink.”

Greg sat with his back to the sink with his head back. The stylists wet his hair with warm water. Then she put some shampoo in her hand. She rubbed her hands together to get them all sudsy and then started to wash Greg's hair.”

“Have you ever been here before?” Hazel asked.

“Of course, I have. Lots of times.”

“I see.”

“I just never needed extensions. My hair used to be so long and beautiful. It was the best hair in my entire family. It was better than Marcia.”

“Your sister?”

“Yes.”

“Marcia is really nice.”

“Would you mind if we didn't talk about her? We just had a fight.”

“You did?”

“She wouldn't let me borrow her clothes. I don't know what got into her.”

“But you are wearing a nice dress.”

“THIS IS MINE!” Greg said in a defensive manner. “Marcia was being really mean to me. I don't know why.”

“Sisters can be like that.”

During the conversation, Greg subconsciously let his legs drift apart. Anyone could see up his dress to the crotch of his pantyhose. He didn't realize the faux pas.

After his hair was washed, the stylist dried it and then started the procedure to attach faux hair to his own. The stylist asked if he wanted to use real hair or artificial. Since Greg had lots of cash, he decided upon the real hair.

Greg watched as the stylist was adding the extensions. He smiled. He was feeling so much better now that his hair would look as long and pretty as before. His smile grew as each section of hair was added to his scalp.

Tinting was the next step once his faux hair was attached. Tinting took relatively no time as compared with the addition of the extensions.

The stylist wanted to ask more questions but decided to hold her tongue.

“Would you like it styled?”

Greg knew Jan's hair was long and straight. “I don't know, I like it straight.”

“It'll look so much better with a little bit of body.”

“Do you think so?”

“Yeah, hair can frame your face. Right now it's just hanging there.”

“I think I would like my face framed...add some body.”

“What do you want?”

“You decide, just make sure it's mostly straight. Cindy is the one in curls in our family.”

“Ahh, I see.”

“But, what I do want is to get my nails painted. My fingers look so plain.” As Greg looked down at his hand, he saw his dress had ridden up. He pulled it down and brought his legs together when he realized what had happened.

“We can do that. What color?”

“How about something that's a pale pink? I want my nails nice, but not too noticeable.”

“I understand.”

“I'll get our manicurist to see you after I'm done. What about your toenails?”

“Sure, them too. Wait, I'm wearing pantyhose. Maybe I shouldn't bother.”

“Women come here like that all the time. You can change in the back if you are embarrassed. But you will have to wait a while for the polish to dry before you can put the hose back on.”

“No, it's not that.”

“Let's do the toes another time.”

“If that is what you want.”

Act 4:

Greg felt wonderful with his hair (as he thought of it) reinstated to its former glory. He loved that his hair was as long and as blond as ever. His hair fell over his shoulders and then down his back to almost his waist. It felt heavy on his head, but he didn't care.

His bike was exactly where he left it. He got onto the bike and started to pedal to a department store. He had an entirely new wardrobe to buy.

Looking at his hands as he held onto the handlebars, Greg loved the polish applied to it. He also liked that his nails had been shaped into gorgeous feminine arcs.

Greg noticed the people looking at him. He smiled at them because he knew he looked wonderful. But he would look better when he bought some clothes which fit his body as well as his style. The department store wasn't very far from the salon. He arrived there within minutes.

Greg entered the store and walked straight to the juniors' department. He had several outfits in mind.

Greg knew that his long legs were his best feature, therefore he wanted to buy mini-dresses and mini-skirts that would show them off. Greg started to regret not getting a pedicure. But he knew he would have to remove his hose for that and he didn't want to wait for the polish to dry to redress in his pantyhose.

Greg fantasized looking through the racks of clothes. Money wasn't any object, he had plenty. He didn't even have to pay for the salon visit. The stylist told him his mother was treating him.

The first thing that Greg would look for was a black and white checkered A-line mini-skirt. It would need belt loops at the top and fasten in the back. He knew he would have to look at home for a black belt to go with it or buy one here.

He decided he would contrast the black and white of the mini-skirt with a bright orange mock-neck ribbed sweater with long sleeves. He loved the contrast.

The next outfit he would look for was a suede button dark brown mini-skirt. It should be about the same length as the other one. He would pair this mini-skirt with round-neck shells in pastel hues. He liked to contrast not only the color but the length of the sleeves with the length of the mini-skirt. He was subconsciously adopting the style of Marcia who wore such outfits.

He also wanted some shirts with short sleeves or no sleeves at all. Maybe something button-down with a point color in rust or maybe light brown color. It would need some pockets on the breast, it could be worn with either of the two skirts or maybe a high-waist women's slacks. Greg didn't like wearing slacks anymore, but he couldn't wear dresses and skirts all the time. It had to rain or be cool sometimes.

Greg was looking at a floral patterned mini-dress when a woman came over. She thought it was odd to see a boy wearing a dress with extremely long hair shopping in the juniors department. It took her a few moments to talk to him as she wasn't a hundred percent sure he was a man, his hair obscured his face somewhat. The woman believed he didn't have a feminine figure despite the apparel he was wearing.

“Are you feeling alright, sir?”

“Why do people keep asking me that?” Greg was very annoyed at the question.

“It's just that.”

“And do I look like a sir?”

“You look. I mean. Umm, what's your name?”

“Jan Brady.”

“Jim Brady?”

“No Jan. I may be young, but you shouldn't treat me like this. I have money. I'm going to pay for all of this.”

Greg opened his purse and showed them the money inside.

“It's not that.”

“Is there a problem?” the manager asked.

“No, I don't think so. I was just doing a little shopping.”

“I can see that.”

“I may be only thirteen, but I have the same rights as anyone else.”

Greg didn't look 13. He looked 17. Not to mention, he looked like a boy.

“What's your name?”

“Jan Brady.”

“That's what he told me too.”

“Stop calling me a he!”

“Jan, I think you should come with me. Let's call your parents.”

“I wasn't going to steal anything.”

“We know that. But let's call your parents.”

Greg was led to the manager's office. He was directed to a chair and sat down. He kept his legs together and his hands in his lap.”

“What's your number?”

“You had better wait in the outer office,” the manager told Greg.

The manager called the number. Carol was still home.

“Hello, this is Mr. Cransaw from ____ department store. Do you know a Jan Brady?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Is that your, umm, son?”

“Yes, but he isn't acting like himself.”

“I can see that.” Then Mr. Cransaw whispered, “You know he is wearing a dress?”

“I know.”

“He was in the juniors department looking at apparel. He was making the other shoppers uncomfortable.”

“He didn't hurt anyone, did he?”

“No, but it's quite unusual for a boy to be wearing a dress in public.”

Carol explained what happened and said she would be right over. Greg waited for Carol to arrive. He didn't understand what was going on. The best he could come up with was that his dress didn't fit right. That was his whole reason for being here. He needed a new wardrobe.

“Honey, let's go home,” Carol told Greg.

“But I want to get a few things. I don't have anything to wear. Even this doesn't fit right.”

“It's OK. When we get home, we'll figure something out. Maybe you can wear something of mine?”

“I don't want to figure something out. I don't want to wear my mom's clothes. I want to buy something new. I have the money! You see?”

“You're making a scene.”

“It's not fair. I should be able to buy my own clothes.”

“It's not that?”

“Then what is it?”

Carol couldn't tell him what was really going on.

“You're just a little sick. You'll be OK soon.”

“I feel fine. All I want to do is to buy something nice for school Monday.”

“You're not going to school on Monday!”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“I'm fine. I want to go to school. I have to go and put my application in. I have to do it Monday! I'm not leaving until I get something nice for school. I have to go some time, even if it's not Monday. I saw this really cute dress. It's a sleeveless floral print mini-dress. It has there cute flowers all over it. The flowers are all about two inches in diameter. I just love it.”

“OK, if we get you a dress, then you'll go home.”

“OK.”

“Do you know which dress, umm Jan means?” Carol asked the manager.

“No, I'm not familiar with the stuff in the juniors' department.”

“I know where it is.”

“OK, we'll pick up the dress and then leave.”

“Fine.”

“I think I had better go with you,” Mr. Cransaw stated.

“Sure.”

They walked to the juniors' department. Greg led the way. Carol was embarrassed for both herself and her son. Greg found the dress on the rack.

“Is this it?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, we'll buy it.”

“It's yours. Pay for it later. Just please leave the store.”

“Thank you.”

Greg carried the dress with him out of the store. He thought the dress would look great with his long hair and long legs.

Carol looked at her son as they walked to the car. His hair was long and tinted blond. He had his eyebrows arched and was wearing a mini-dress with pantyhose. Carol never expected to see Greg like this.

“Mom, what happened?”

Greg couldn't understand why buying a dress caused so much fuss.

Carol ignored the question. “It'll be OK.”

During the car ride, Greg asked, “Mom”

“Yes, Honey.”

“I really want to go to school on Monday.”

“I don't think it's a good idea.”

“But I feel fine.”

“The doctor...”

“I tell you I feel fine.”

“I don't think you should.”

“But I have to.”

“I know. If I ask Marcia to pick up the application for you, would you mind missing school for a few days?”

“I guess not.”

“I'll tell her.”

“OK, I'll stay home.”

Act 5:

Greg realized then he could spend the entire day practicing. He could practice all day Sunday and all day Monday too.

All the kids were on their best behavior around Greg. The real Jan did her impersonation of Greg. As long as Jan wore her wig and Greg's oversized apparel, Greg didn't think anything was wrong.

On Sunday, Greg got dressed to practice his POM-POM routine. He looked through his apparel and selected an oversized light-purple T-shirt with a crew neck and one horizontal white stripe across his chest and royal blue gym shorts with white accents on the legs. The shorts were very tight on Greg, but as long as he could get them up and over his hips, he was happy. Looking at himself, Greg decided to add blue tights to his outfit and white socks over them.

Greg found a newspaper and cut it into strips to use as POM-POMs.

Greg skipped outside into the backyard. He started with a few stretching exercises. He touched his toes and then put his hands on his hips and stretched his back side to side and front to back

Greg didn't know what he was doing, he jumped around and threw out his arms with the POM-POMs in what he thought was a coordinated way. To onlookers, his routine looked pretty random. He was enjoying himself regardless.

Jan saw Greg through the sliding glass doors.

“That's pretty good,” Jan told Greg. “But, I've been watching the POM-POM girls for a long time. I can show you how it's done.”

“You are going to show me how to be a POM-POM girl,” Greg asked incredulously.

“I have some moves.”

“Greg, what do you know about being a POM-POM girl?” Greg giggled.

“Let me show you.”

“I'd like to see you try.”

Jan takes the POM-POMs from Greg, she stands in the middle of the lawn. She is dressed in Greg's jeans and t-shirt. The jeans have been cuffed so they aren't too long. She used a belt to keep the jeans from sliding down her waist.

Jan started with her legs together and her hands holding the POM-POMs at her hips. She starts by hopping from one leg to the other while her hands fling the POM-POMs to the left and right opposite whichever foot happened to be on the floor. Then she danced into a half turn to the left, then danced back to the center pausing before continuing to the right and then back to the center. She throws her hands up and her legs apart like a jumping jack. She is much more coordinated than Greg had been. She rolls the POM-POMs around each other. The routine lasts about thirty seconds until she throws the POM-POMs in the air as she does the splits.

“What do you think?” Jan asked while breathing heavily.

“It's OK, for a BOY, I guess,” Greg tells her.

“You try it!”

“OK, I will! How does it go again?”

Jan redid her routine. Greg took note of what Jan was doing.

Greg started as Jan had with his feet together and his hands at his hips. He tried to do the same routine as Jan, but he didn't have the coordination that she had. It looked awkward. Finally, he got to the end of the routine. He jumped up, threw the POM-POMs into the air, and tried to do a split. Being a boy and wearing very tight shorts that maneuver was impossible. He cried in pain as his shorts split, his legs buckled and he fell backward hitting his head.

The whole gang who had been watching ran to Greg, “Are you alright, Jan?” Cindy asked.

“Cindy, I'm not Jan, I'm Greg. Why am I holding these POM-POMs?”

“Did you hear that,” Mike said with a big smile, “Greg wants to know why he's holding POM-POMs.”

Carol agreed, “That's wonderful, I could kiss him. And I think I will.”

Bobby asked Peter, “Is that the old Greg who wants to know what the new Jan was doing, or the new Jan who wants to know what the old Greg was doing?”

“I think we are back to the old Greg and old Jan.”

“Awe, I was just getting used to it the other way.”

“Mom,” Greg whispers.

“What dear?”

“Look at Jan? Something must be the matter with her. She's wearing my clothes. She must think she is me!”

Everyone laughs.

End