Patrick Wiley, a "tomgirl" boy on spring break with the girls [MidbossMan]

Unfamiliar locations passed by in darkness on either side of the bus, reminding Patrick of how, truly, everything in his life was unfamiliar now, to such an extent that it sometimes felt dizzying. As a suburban kid, he'd had few chances to go to the beach in his life; when he did, they'd always been with his family. This time would be completely different; he was older now and his friends were sure to be less interested in building sandcastles or playing tag in the water and more concerned with getting their freak on in the party scene. Feeling nostalgic as the beach grew ever closer just down from the winding, hill-side road the rented bus navigated, Patrick couldn't help but feel nostalgic for those times.

Did he want those innocent days back? Maybe, though he'd never admit that to himself. Was it so strange that he'd pine for them? As a kid, Patrick had lived wild, skirting by in Marsha Lynne High School with grades just sufficient for graduation and rebelling against his parents at every chance. He was the cool guy that hung out with the girls; his presence was welcome and nobody batted an eye seeing him do the kinds of things they did, whether it meant hanging around to play games, biking out at odd hours, or playing the occasional hilarious pranks on one of the gals. Part of him had feared that once those school days ended, his merry group would go their separate ways and he'd be to reinvent himself...

For now, he'd managed to stall that concern. A few of his gals had ended up in the same college as him and while they weren't as close as they were back in the old days, they still found plenty of time to meet up, reminisce about the trouble they used to get themselves into, and make some new memories. By all accounts, as long as he managed to avoid getting too caught up in the party life, he'd skirt through college just the same as he had high school: as a rebellious guy, more concerned with living it up moment to moment than their long-term prospects.

"Yo, Patty! Check out the abs on this guy!" one of the girls, a dark-skinned athletic type with hair in a tight fro cut, encouraged him; she drew his attention by roughly throwing one arm over the back of his chair. This one was Shauna. In occasions like this, she was abrasive and inconsiderate, but she'd been a great friend throughout his whole life, always treating him as one of the girls... Even if sometimes she did so a little too thoroughly. One of her favorite games was trying to hook Patrick up with other guys, because, in her words, "what girl doesn't fantasize about watching two guys fuck?"

Patrick tried to laugh and joke back, something about how the guy had abs like Shauna's, but it felt even weirder doing it now than it had back in the old days. The situation was awkward for Patrick because he never wanted to be thought of that way, the way that the girls viewed other guys: like conquests and fap material. For as long as Patrick could remember, he'd been what the girls referred to as a "tomgirl." Act like a girl, talk like a girl, dress like a girl (jeans, loose tops, no makeup). He'd even cut his hair in a butch way to try to blend in once, but it never really worked. For starters, his hair was red and springy with a tendency to hang over his eyes when he got lazy and let it grow out. He'd been an unattractive guy as a kid, with dense freckles and always in glasses... but apparently, those same traits weren't unappealing on an adult. He'd heard the gals call a nearly identical guy on TV "a fine-ass redhead," which told him that those factors no longer worked against him. Primarily, it was his body that made him different; changing the way he dressed or cut his hair wouldn't change that.

In the far, far past, it was easy for Patrick to see himself as the same as them, and likewise for his friends. Roughhousing and making trouble came natural to him and in those days, the differences in their bodies had been practically non-existent. The older they got, the more intense the differences became. The turning point for Patrick was at a sleep-in one time, when his gals had all been goofing off, comparing their bodies. None of them had any shame being naked around each other... but when the time turned to talk about him, the atmosphere turned somehow tense. Erotic, even. They'd all wanted to know how big it was...

When they said "it," they of course meant his penis. He wondered if they knew how it made him feel, being asked to show his dick like that. He'd laughed his way out of it at the time, but from then on, there'd been unspoken rules... a gal-code, if you will.

"Patrick is one of the girls."

"No girl makes a move on Patrick."

Could they possibly keep to such rules? Of course not! He spotted the cracks in their discipline all the time: one of the girls would try to get a look down the legs of his pants whenever he wore loose shorts. One of the girls would ask if he was going to get a girlfriend any time soon. One of them would flirt, telling him he was good-looking enough that he'd get by even if he flunked out of high school. Lots of situations popped up where one girl or another would try to get alone time with him and just... see if it went anywhere.

In short, being told he was off the table just made him a bigger prize for all of the girls. The sexual tension was always so thick these days, Patrick found it suffocating. Hanging out with the girls-- acting like a girl-- was all he knew, but that lifestyle was slowly slipping further and further away.

This trip would be the nail in the coffin of that ideal life of his. The beach meant partying, swimsuits, and romance. A few of the girls had brought guy friends, but most of them were on the hunt. All the girls would be looking for sweet meet-ups with pretty guys on the beach, but quite a few of them would also be thinking, "This is it, right? This is my chance to make a move on Patty before someone else does."

Patrick was shaken back into the moment as Shauna snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Earth to Patty! Hey, if you're sleepy, you should get some sleep. I'll make sure nobody sticks their vag on your face while you're catchin' some shuteye," Shauna encouraged her friend, holding one arm around the boy's shoulders and bringing him close in, so that his lanky form rubbed against her impressive, lean musculature. They were both pressed in light t-shirts, leaving very little to his or her imagination in the proximity of that close embrace.

He wasn't exactly happy with his body in adulthood; he'd pictured himself developing into the same kind of handsome person that his girl friends had, but they'd had all the right tools to do so. They all played sports and hit the gym, so they had great bodies. Even with his own attempts to match them, he had the height advantage over most of them, but not the tone or, frankly, the and reflexes. A sports scholarship never would have been in the cards for him, but a couple of his friends might have made it. This common situation, wrestling with one of the girls, never failed to remind him that he was just a guy in a circle full of strong girls.

The boy tried to ignore the feeling of her breasts against his arm, then gave his best tomgirl grin while pushing his displaced glasses up upon the bridge of his nose. "Ha! Shauna, you're the first one that'd try something like that! Grow up already," he joked, rough-housing with her by punching his knuckles to one of her bare, toned biceps.

Without flinching, she gave an ear to ear grin, then her response: "Heh! Don't kid yourself. If it were me, I'd get a look at that dick!"

Patrick continued laughing, although he felt his heart hammering. His tone-deaf friend had no idea how worried he was about that very prospect... It wasn't that he feared sex or any of the girls he'd grown up with. Hell, he'd spent many a guilty night fantasizing about what it would be like to be so involved with one (or more) of the guys. No, it was that he feared losing that status quo... The moment he got it on with one of the girls, his group dynamic would change completely. Nobody would see him as one of them any more... What would life even be like after that? Dating? Sex? Marriage? Kids?

Some of his anxiety must have shown on his face. Shauna switched to a more earnestly sympathetic smile. "Gal, you shook? I'm just messin' with ya! Look: if one of these asshole girls makes a move on you, or anybody on the beach, I'll be there to lay 'em out. We all know you're cool, Patty; you always have been. I know it feels weird, bein' like... the only guy here with no boyfriend. But you're my gal, gal! This is gonna be fun. Trust me." The girl pulled back into her seat and waved her boy magazine one more time, encouraging Patrick to take a look with her. "Once we get you hooked up with a couple of beers, you'll forget all about whatever's worryin' you. Maybe we'll find you a gal to hook up with too, unless, you know, you're doin' the guy/guy thing."

The young man smiled back, trying to push that feeling out of his mind. It was the kind of feeling any boy would experience in this situation: that he was a trophy to be won over the course of this 10-day spring break. Ultimately, he followed her advice, closing his eyes and beginning to drift off... At least, in his dreams, he could continue to procrastinate on his way to manhood for a little while longer...