Term rolled on and the second-semester exams loomed. But their arrival also signalled the end of the academic year, which meant the long (and hopefull... hot) summer holidays. I’d be staying in my new Westmouth home rather than go back to Vicky’s for the summer. Imogen was going home for a couple of weeks to see her family, then coming back because Will had agreed to not only give me some work experience at his firm but Imogen as well. Mark was also sticking around because he’d found a summer job. I am Hira. From my youngest memories I knew that something was wrong with me. I did not wish to play with little boys, preferring instead to play with girls. As I grew I did not yearn for the robes of my father, instead I desired the beautiful dresses my mother made. I did not wish to be a farmer, I wanted to be a weaver like my mother. I was always at odds with what others, especially my parents, wanted of me, but I could not seem to change how I felt. I don't remember when it was I figured. She was wearing a tank top with a cotton jacket. There was a stole or scarf dangling from her neck. Dark blue jeans hugged her legs.She had an elegant figure. Not petite and not voluptuous. Just right. Better than right, perfect. It was then I realized the guy next to me was gawking at her. Every guy was gawking at her.The first time we spoke was when we were named lab partners in a chemistry lab. As soon as I heard that there were butterflies in my stomach. See the thing is I am an introvert.. Hiscoordination was so bad by this time that a proportion of each ran downhis chin and was scooped up from his bib with the spoon to re-feed himwith it. When he made attempts to stop her feeding him, even sevenyear old Carol was able to hold his hand back out of the way withoutdifficulty as she was now stronger than him.Once his meal was over his mother lifted him out of the high chair,only to find that he couldn't even stand up on his own, he simplycollapsed down onto his nappy padded bottom..
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