"Could you please, just once? Please?" he would ask."Could you please knock it off?" I would reply. But ask and ask againhe did. He kept asking. And a...king and asking. I was getting at mywit's end.After, hmm, I'd say about three months of his nagging, but it mighthave been four and, yes, it was in fact nagging (don't tell me that mencan't nag too), I finally flared: "Why do you want me to do this?" Myvoice was loud. My exasperation was plain. My contempt was visible."It'll make me feel good.. "We love you and don't wanna see you get hurt."My Year of the Girl. It started at that moment. Not at that shitty NewYear's party, or the moment the snowball left my hand and could never berecalled. It happened with Michelle's arm around me and I knew we weresisters inside. A few years ago, I'd been a guy. Then someone got a madon about me and presto-change-o biological nightmare. Whatever maturityI'd gained up to that point was taken away and what was left was what anykid would have. I. More

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