Life was wonderful. Matt and I were official secret lovers, I had engaged in sexual intercourse with him, and my dad was out of town again. With prom hovering at the end of the week, I invited Matt over to my place so that I could show him my guilty pleasures. I had been waiting too long for this kind of relationship with him, and now I just wanted to pour out my heart and reveal everything about myself. If I didn't, it would be just like lying to him, and I couldn't stand that thought. It was evil.

Besides, I wasn't sure how long I could continue with the constant charade. If I at least had him to confide in, then things would be okay. It would give me the strength to continue with the life I had been living because at least one person would know and still love me all the same. There was no fear that things might not work out between us; it was inconceivable to my mind. At school, we remained the ever constant outcasts and troublemakers, but in the shadows where even my bodyguards couldn't come, we were more than friends.

"Butch, are you and the guys planning on watching your fuckin' soap operas?" I asked as Matt struggled to get his laced-up combat boots off at the front door.

He lightly punched me in the arm and ruffled my hair in a mockery of affection. It was the closest I would get to some love around here. I guess that he was in a good mood since I decided to bring Matt over instead of once again risking a breach in security by going to his apartment. "Don't be a smart-ass," he replied as he headed to the kitchen for a snack.

"Don't be such a little bitch," I threw back at him teasingly. Good, I was doing a nice job of acting like one of the guys. "Are you done yet, Mattie?"

My lover gracefully toppled over as he struggled with the boot on his right foot. A smile curled on my lips and I was highly tempted to giggle; thankfully, I remembered that I was in a room full of my dad's men and they wouldn't be particularly happy to hear me giggling like a little girl. So I moved over to help my Matt with his boot. If he just wore regular sneakers then he wouldn't have this problem. After a few rough tugs, the boot slipped off his foot revealing a dirty sock. Still holding his foot, I carelessly took a chance and stroked it sensually, peeking at him from under the fringe of my bangs. There was a pale blush dancing across his cheekbones and he dipped his head down so that I wouldn't be able to see his eyes from behind those stupid goggles.

"Let's go," he suggested, pulling his foot away from my hands. I nodded and we made our way past the guards, the other underlings, and up the stairs.

Once we were both inside of the room, I made sure to lock the door. I didn't want anyone walking in on us as I showed off my beautiful treasures. I shuddered at the thought of my father finding out what I had been keeping hidden from him for the past few years. "You can sit on the bed," I suggested as I moved to the closet.

"So, what's this secret that you wanted to show me?" he asked as he fell back on my bed. He slid the goggles up on his head to rub at his tired eyes and I barely noticed the dark circles that had formed.

Turning my attention back to the closet, I dug around through all the garbage that I would most likely never touch again and pulled out my little black box. "Close your eyes. I want you to be surprised."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll be surprised," he chuckled darkly.

Looking up with a frown I couldn't help but think that if we weren't at school goofing off or making-out in any spot we could find, he would be acting weird. "Are you okay?"

He draped a stripe-clad arm over his eyes and sighed heavily. "I'm fine, Mello. Just hurry up with the surprise. I've got to cook dinner for the girls."

"I'll hurry. Just don't peek."

"Fine."

After staring at him for a few seconds to make sure that he wasn't peeking, I reached into the closet and pulled out my dress. It was wrinkled after having been subject to the cramped space between my old guitar case and some old gaming system that I never used. Shaking it out, I gave it a once over before deeming it good enough to wear without having to iron it. I slipped out of all my clothes, including the ugly boxers that would have made the bottom of the dress awkwardly bulgy. Completely naked, I shot Matt a nervous glance, but he wasn't paying any attention to me. True to his word, he wasn't peeking. When I wriggled into the dress, a quiet sigh of relief slipped past my lips. The soft material caressed my bare skin, and it felt as if I was putting on the right skin, as if the weight of my lies was lifted off my shoulders.

"Are you jerking off?" Matt asked with a smile curling on his lips. "You've gotten too quiet, and what's up with that happy little sigh?"

I giggled and made my way to his side. "Nope, I'm not touching myself." That's just gross.

"Then what's up with the happy-giddiness?"

Stroking his leg affectionately, I replied with confidence. "Open your eyes now."

His arm fell to the side and those gorgeous eyes took in my change in attire. For a moment, he didn't register anything different, and then I saw his eyes widen noticeably as he realized that I was wearing a dress. A bout of shyness struck me, and I blushed and looked down at my bare feet. For the first time, I became conscious of how the lacy edge barely hung at mid-thigh and how my perked nipples could be seen through the thin material.

"What's this?" he asked softly, as if I was a delicate china doll and speaking too loudly would shatter me into pieces.

"It's my secret, Mattie," I whispered back to him. There was no way that I could meet his eyes. Part of me wondered if this was such a good idea. What if he didn't accept this part or he thought it was too freaky? That thought alone made me want to run away screaming and crying. If Matt didn't want me, then who would?

His hand slipped into mine, its warmth instantly pushing those bad thoughts away. "You've got that look on your face, Mels. There's no reason to cry."

Haltingly, I looked up to see my reflection in those goggles. I really did look like I was about to burst into tears. "S-sorry, it's just…you don't hate me, do you?"

Scooting to the edge of the bed, he pulled me between his legs and rested his head against my stomach. "You look like an angel," he mumbled, the sound of his voice muffled by my flabby belly and the dress. "I'd never hate an angel."

My hands stroked his silken hair, and I held him close. If either of us was an angel, it was definitely Matt. I was a liar who had to hide my true self from others, and a needy clingy person who would die without my best friend, my lover. If I died, he could live. Matt could live and he could love again, and that's exactly what I would want him to do. I would want him to forget about me when my time ended and I would want him to be as happy as he possibly could.

Pulling back, I leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. He accepted it and stroked my neck tenderly. Wanting to explain things to him, I ended the kiss and pulled him to his feet so that he could come with me to my black box full of makeup. Once we were both seated, I showed him all my stolen goods.

"Are you freaked out yet?" I asked nervously.

Matt smiled and patted my cheek. "Nope." Somehow, those stupid goggles got back over his eyes. "But I wonder…why?"

I grabbed a tube of lipstick and fondled it in my hands. I knew exactly what he was asking. "Well…Matt, I'm just so tired of lying to you. I'm tired of having to hide who I am just because others can't accept it!"

"What are you talking about?" he tried to soothe.

"It's this body!" I hissed, trying to keep my volume down. The entire time I made sure to keep my eyes on the lipstick. "I hate being a guy, I really do." When he didn't say anything, I just rushed on, trying to explain everything. "Ever since I was a kid, I knew that I wasn't like other boys. I wanted to kiss boys, I wanted to wear dresses, and play with dolls. Dammit, I was confused with my body! I didn't know why I was the way I was and I found it repulsive! I hate being in this stupid ugly body, and I just want to be a girl, a fucking girl!"

By now, I was shouting and I didn't even care if anyone heard me. No one had the right to tell me how to live my life or to tell me that I was wrong and that I should be happy with being a boy. They didn't have a clue about what I was dealing with, so how dare they try to tell me what I could and could not be!

"Shhh, shhhh…" Matt pulled me up against his chest, muffling anything else that I might decide to scream out. "You don't want anyone to hear you say that," he reasoned. "It wouldn't fix anything."

"Damn it all, it should!" I protested, but he just shook his head and stared at the wall. I weakly hit his chest in frustration.

"So…you don't like being…a guy?"

"No, I hate it." With his goggles on, I couldn't see what he was thinking.

"I guess that's not too surprising," he finally replied, looking down at me. He ran his fingers through my hair and planted a kiss to my forehead.

"Do…do you still like me?"

He chuckled at my pitiful sounding question. "Yeah, I still like you."

Feeling a little better, I snuggled against his chest for a few more minutes. Then the temptation to get that makeup on my face proved to be too great. With a flair, I pulled away from his embrace and turned my attention to putting on my newest batch of cosmetics. As I applied each layer, I explained it all to Matt. The foundation needed to go first and it was to even out the skin tone. Make sure not to get a color too dark or your face and the rest of your body wouldn't match; that would just be tacky.

Matt sat next to me patiently, learning all there was to know about makeup. Occasionally, he would pull back a stray of hair that would be in my way and I would shoot him a grateful look. He was such a sweetheart, and it was amazing that he was taking everything so well. I had been expecting the worst, but my Mattie had been nothing but the perfect loving and understanding boyfriend.

"Hey, look over here," he commanded.

Looking up from applying my lipstick, I was shocked when a flash went off. Matt began laughing hysterically while holding my camera. "W-wha?"

"Your face!" he choked as he hugged his sides.

"Why'd you take a picture of me!" I growled, tackling him. "I bet I have this really stupid look on my face you jerk!" That laugh was too contagious and I ended up laughing along with him even as I struggled to get the camera from him. I was going to delete that stupid picture.

"Noooo!" he cried childishly as I managed to remove the expensive little machine from his hands. "You've got to keep that picture! The expression you had was priceless!"

Clicking a few buttons, I came face-to-face with my stupidly surprised face. My mouth was hanging open a little and my already wide eyes were extra wide in surprise. "No way! I look so ugly!"

"Aw, no you don't," he chuckled as he leaned against my shoulder to look at the picture. "You look cute like that."

I swatted him upside the head. "No I don't. Here, let's take a picture with the two of us, okay? It'll be better than my stupid expression." With him still leaning on my shoulder, I turned the camera and aimed it as best as I could. "Smile!"

CLICK!

Quickly, I flipped the camera around and checked the picture. Our smiling faces stared back at us and I nodded my approval. It was a little off center, but it still looked pretty good. I looked like a happy girl with her loving and perfect boyfriend.

"Do you like it?" he asked me.

"Yeah, that's much better." I deleted the other picture and set the camera down. "You're so photogenic," I whined, sprawling across his legs. "If I'm not posing, I look like a freakin' retard."

"I don't think so," he mumbled, one of his hands absentmindedly stroking the back of my thigh. "And quit putting yourself down so much. You look good no matter what."

Suddenly, his hand slipped up under the dress to stroke my bare rear end. I shuddered at the sensation, my body instinctively getting more sensitive and my heart picking up in pace. His slender fingers ran across the fatty flesh, raising goosebumps almost instantaneously. "Ohhhh," I whispered, clenching his jeans in my hands.

"Turned on already?" he teased, but he was a hypocrite. I could feel his arousal poking my side.

"You are too," I replied weakly, trying to glare at him. I just succeeded in giving him my best bedroom eyes ever.

"Where's the K-Y jelly?" he asked hoarsely.

"Are we gonna do it in my room?" I asked shyly. "I mean…there are guys downstairs."

"We'll be quiet," he reassured. Not completely convinced, I motioned towards my messenger bag. As he went through the bag to get the lube, I began to work the dress off. Warm hands wrapped around mine, stopping me from getting my clothes off. "Leave it on," Matt requested.

"O-okay."

Blushing, I followed the rest of his instructions. Resting on my elbows and knees, I felt pretty ridiculous with my ass up in the air, but he pushed the dress up to the small of my back and proceeded to lube me up. It was all that I could do not to just moan his name and push back on his slickened fingers. I resorted to biting my knuckles in an attempt to keep quiet.

"There, spread your legs a little."

I obeyed and I felt the fingers go in as far as they could. A shudder of anticipation coursed through my body as I waited for something much larger than his fingers to enter into me. The sound of his belt buckle being undone and his zipper opening was like torture, but it was all worth it when I felt his hot and eager cock pressed against my backside. I looked over my shoulder and moaned as I saw that he too wasn't completely undressed; his jeans were pulled down enough to allow him to comfortably have sex, but I also chuckled at the idea that he was probably getting a pretty nice breeze at his backside.

"Feeling a breeze?" I teased as he rubbed his member between my ass cheeks.

"Tch, like you don't with your ass up in the air like that?"

Patting my tailbone, he used his hand to guide his cock to my anus and pressed into it. At first, the muscles resisted the entry, but the constant pressure was too much and he slid into my body. My eyes clenched and my toes curled as he continued to slide in, until he reached the hilt. I could hear his panting from behind me and it only made me want to vocalize even more. If only those stupid bodyguards weren't around!

"Mmmmnph," I moaned into my knuckles as he pulled back a little and shoved back inside. The pain was still there, but it was nothing compared to the joy of Matt being the one inside of me. I was right; he was the one for me. He had accepted every part of me, he loved me, and he wanted me. It was the perfect combination and he was the most perfect being on this planet.

It didn't take long for him to pick up the pace. With each thrust, my knees were chafed against the carpet and the sounds tearing through my throat got louder and louder. He was sweating and panting harshly, both hands clenching at my hips as if they were a lifeline. In this position he was able to press more deeply into me and he had an easier time abusing the sweet spot inside. Tears were streaking down my face, ruining my makeup and I was sure that my knees and knuckles would be bloody, but all of that was just minor details. Nothing important.

We were making love. That's what was important.

His arms wrapped me in a safe cocoon, squeezing me tightly as a warning that he was going to reach his orgasm soon. Another sharp prod to my prostate sent me reeling and I barely felt the thick fluid spurting inside of me. My thighs were shaking from having to hold such an unfamiliar position, but those arms kept me up. Matt's head rested against the middle of my back as he tried to regain his senses and I just closed my eyes. Fuck the rest of the world, I could stay with him like this for the rest of my life, and I would be the happiest person alive.

~_~_~_~_~_

"So, vote for the person that you think deserves to be the Prom Bitch, I mean, Queen, and I'll collect them."

Mr. B sat down at his desk and waited for us students to obey his command. I stared at the paper in front of me, my mind a blank. Out of all the school sluts, who would I pick to be the one to receive the crown of glory? Carrie? No, too weird. Kathryn? Ugh, hell no. Brittani? No way, too stuck up.

I absolutely hated prom and I wanted to have no part in the whole thing. And why would I? I would never have the chance to wear a beautiful dress and go out with my date and do nothing but dance and drink spiked Kool-Aid. There would be no limousine for me and a group of friends, no corset given to me by the man of my dreams. Nope, Matt had to work and I had nothing to do. Feeling someone's eyes on me, I looked up to see Matt staring at me. I tried to give him a confident smile, but it came out more like a grimace. Stupid prom.

Seeing that Mr. B was starting to collect our votes, I quickly wrote down Linda's name and folded it up. The dark-haired man gave me a concerned look as he picked up my vote and I wondered if my misery was written all over my face. If it was, then I would have to fix that. After all, I had a reputation to keep. The son of the Russian mafia head couldn't be looking upset about not getting to go to prom his Senior year.

Once he finished collecting the folded pieces of notebook paper, Mr. B began to tally all the marks for the girls in our class. Even though we were a public school, the drop-out rate was pretty high which left our graduating classes pretty small. Only 36 students from the ghetto would be graduating in a few weeks. Pretty soon, the top three girls were listed up on the marker board. Stuck up slut, Brittani, daughter of the local Baptist preacher, Jackie, and the most likeable of them all, Linda. Brittani was probably going to win because she'd have all her boyfriends and their sports teams voting for her. How depressing. Sighing unhappily, I realized that I was doodling in my notebook again. I wasn't a particularly talented artist like Linda was, but I had gotten pretty good at making cute little curly-q things. Even bubble letters were in my secret arsenal of super-girly things that I had to keep hidden. Currently, Matt's name was written across the sheet with the fattest bubble letters I've ever drawn and little hearts around it. Dear lord, I was loosing it. If I didn't get rid of my slutty dollar romance novels I was going to do something far more embarrassing. Like, ask him to put his "hot man-meat into my hungry pussy" or something similar. I chuckled just trying to imagine his reaction to that. He probably wouldn't be able to get it up for weeks with that in his head.

"Keehl!" Mr. B barked out, dragging me back to reality.

"Hn?"

He ignored the other students packing up their bags and getting ready to move on to second period. "Stay after for a minute."

"Yes sir," I grumbled giving Matt an apologetic look. We wouldn't be able to make-out in the abandoned lavatory.

The bell rang a few seconds later and I just sat in my seat waiting for all the other kids to get out. Matt gathered his things and patted my head on his way out. Pasting my eternally bored expression on, I waited until Mr. B made his way to the desk across from me and sat on the profanity-etched surface. He bit at his jelly stained fingers for a minute before looking down at me.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked flatly.

The question took me off guard, and I felt as if he was being careful not to act too interested. "Uh, no?"

Irritation flashed through his eyes, but he kept his cool. "Listen, I'm not paid enough to care about you students, so if I take time out of my life to ask about how you're doing, then it means that I have a reason for doing so."

"A reason? Like what?"

"Tch, you're too smart for me to spell it out."

I rolled my eyes. "You can't mean that you actually like me."

"That's exactly what I mean," he replied with narrowed eyes.

Suddenly, I felt uncomfortable. Those eyes had always been intense, but now they seemed to be trying to read my soul, to see the filthiness. Mr. B may have been homicidal and a bit crazy, but I couldn't remember him ever uttering a lie to any of us students. If he was admitting to really care about me enough to be worried, than he was being completely honest. The idea of someone other than Matt caring for me made me scared even as it made me happy. Warm dancing butterflies were making their presence known in my stomach, but I still felt a wave of uneasiness. No one ever really cared about me before, so why would they start caring now?

"Why?"

Mr. B looked off to the side and snorted. "'Why' you ask? You're a lot stupider than I give you credit for."

"Just because I can't read your twisted mind doesn't mean that I'm stupid."

"I guess you're right there." He paused for a minute and brought his eyes back to me. His look wasn't quite so intense. "Hey, I've looked out for you ever since your skinny ass got here. I guess it's because you're not like everyone else, but does that really matter? If someone tells you that they care about you, is your first question really going to be 'why'? Should that be your first question?"

His candid response shocked me a little. It was kind of what Matt had told me, but in a different way. I was always berating myself and questioning how anyone could find redeemable qualities in me. Having never really been loved, it was understandable that I would question people's affections. If my own family couldn't love me, how could others? How could they see something that my own flesh and blood couldn't?

"I…I don't really know."

A sympathetic smile curled on his lips. "Well, it's alright. No big deal. I just wanted to make sure that you were doing okay."

"Uh, yeah." I nodded. "I'm fine."

"Hmm, how are you and Matt doing?" he slipped in casually.

"Fine," I squeaked. The question had completely caught me off guard and now I was blushing. I looked off to the side, hoping that he wouldn't notice, but I was still embarrassed. What in the world was wrong with me! He just asked how we were doing, as in friends. He had no reason to know that we were more than that, so why was I acting so suspiciously! "We're completely fine, just like always!" Ugh, that was a bit over the top.

A strange childish grin curled on his lips as he began biting on his nails again. "Oh, really?"

"Yup, completely normal. Like always."

"That's good."

We stared awkwardly at each other for a few minutes before I couldn't bear the burning of my blushing anymore. "Uh, I have to get to class."

"Sure thing," he replied, hopping off the desk top and making his way back to his desk. "Did you know that the newest movie theater is opening up on prom night? Tickets are supposed to be a dollar a show, I think."

My ears perked up at the news. "No, I didn't know that!"

"Yeah. I guess most kids'll be too busy getting wasted at prom, so no one will really be hanging around there."

"Okay, thanks Mr. B," I replied, hauling up my heavy bag. My mind was already drawing up plans. If I couldn't partake in prom, maybe I could convince Matt to take the night off so that he could come to the movies with me. "See you later."

"Take care," he mumbled, digging through his desk for a jar of homemade jelly.

~_~_~_~_~_

Matt had been too busy studying with his computer junkie friends at school, so I couldn't ask him about the movies, but I was sure that he would say yes. Practically bouncing my way into the house, I was happy to get out of my tight clothes and into my soft sweatpants and an old t-shirt. The spring air was still a bit too cold for my liking, so I slid on a pair of fuzzy socks and skidded my way to the kitchen. Most of the guys were in the living room again, watching their stupid movies. It was probably Soprano re-runs this time.

Yanking open the refrigerator, I scanned through the contents in search of something to eat. I didn't feel like eating leftover pizza or another revolting microwavable lunch. Definitely nothing fattening, I decided quickly; after all, if Matt was going to have to look at this repulsive body at least I could do him the courtesy of not being obese.

"Looking for something in particular?" came the familiar voice of my bodyguard, Butch.

Peeking over my shoulder I shrugged and then turned my attention back to the fridge. "Not really."

"How 'bout an old fashion peanut butter and jelly sandwich?" he suggested already moving to the cabinet.

The sound of gooey peanut butter goodness made my mouth water, so I nodded eagerly. "Yeah, make me one! Please?"

He chuckled and motioned for me to pull out the jelly while he worked on the peanut butter and bread. I quickly decided on the strawberry apple one and set it on the counter for him. With that accomplished, I took a seat on the bar stool and watched him prepare the simple and delectable snack. His hands were every bit as tough and beaten as my dad's but he still seemed to be able to use them for things other than hitting or killing. There were a few raised scars, and I knew that his left pinky and ring finger were numb from nerve damage.

"What're you thinking about?" he asked while smearing the peanut butter on the white bread. The bread began to tear as the peanut butter stuck to it, but he just added more to glue it together.

"Nothing."

"How about that friend of yours?" he chuckled.

Remembering my earlier conversation with Mr. B I almost felt myself blush. Why did everyone seem to notice that something between us changed? "I think he got a new game that he wants to teach me," I replied lamely. "He's crazy about games, you know."

"Yeah. I remember. You know, I like games too."

"Really? Like, video games?"

He chuckled and began to add the jelly on top. "No, I never played video games. I'm talking about adult games, like the stuff that your dad deals with."

"Oh," I muttered, my heart sinking again. He liked the complicated mind games that the bosses played with each other. It was like politics but on a far more deadly scale.

"It's all really interesting when you think about it," he continued. "Each person is just a piece of the game, moving wherever the puppet master says to, and yet, even the puppet masters have to answer to someone."

Looking at the almost complete snack, I wondered about what he was saying. It was pretty obvious to me that my dad was the puppet master of this group, but who would he have to answer to? God? That seemed unlikely. Some man? Even more unlikely. "But why play dangerous games like that? I mean, people die."

A smile crinkled the corners of his lips as he slapped the two pieces of bread together and handed it to me. "That's the best part. This is the real world, darlin' and there are consequences to every action. You take one wrong step and your people get killed. You might even get killed. It's much more exciting that way."

"What about if you die?" I added surly, not in the mood to eat anymore.

"That's fine. It just means that I'm too stupid to keep one step ahead."

I wrinkled my nose in disgust before remembering that I would have to take that position soon enough. As the heir to the "empire" I would have to take up the mantle once my father failed to keep ahead. Then it would be my turn to avoid death at every turn. "I guess that I'll have to learn quickly," I stated with a weak smile.

"Yup," he confirmed with a bite to his own sandwich.

To be continued...