I really do try and minimize my downtime after Dad leaves for work, but it isn’t easy. I don’t think I’m as drained by this treatment as the last one, but I’m still pretty much knocked out for about five more hours. The previous evening ending with a bout of awesome sex possibly contributes a little to my exhaustion as well.

I actually do make it out of bed by the middle of the afternoon and feel a lot better after a much-needed shower. I take a couple of hours to look over some documentation that Adam forwarded to me. When I start on Monday, Adam is going to go through it with me and it’ll be good to be familiar with it all.

There are hundreds of pages about welfare and safeguarding and mostly it all simply details things that I’ve never had to deal with in my life before. You just take for granted the fact that the teachers look after you and never put you in the way of harm, much less cause the harm themselves. I know that things can – and do – happen, but I’m just a little overwhelmed by the amount of detail that has to be covered.

In spite of these concerns, I’m really looking forward to the whole experience. With my treatments seemingly progressing well, I’m starting to feel like I genuinely can do this. I’m looking forward to spending more time studying the subject that I like best and even the thought of standing in front of a class of youngsters isn’t entirely terrifying anymore.

Adam also sent me a copy of the school’s dress code, as I mentioned to Dad when I saw him at breakfast. There’s nothing on the list that sounds like a problem, we don’t have to wear suits or a uniform or anything, but I can’t be as casual as I had been as a student. I really do need to buy some stuff and I know just the person to help.

It's early afternoon on Friday when Tasha and I get out of our cab at the north end of the main shopping street in Douglas. She has a keen eye for what is fashionable, yet is sensible enough to stick within the letter of the dress code I have to follow.

“So, Nick, do you have a list or something?”

“No, but I know what I need. Trousers, no denim. Dress shirts, button-ups with either long or short sleeves. I thought we’d get both. Pull-overs or a cardigan – well, obviously not a cardigan – and I can have a jacket or waistcoat if I really want.”

“That actually sounds really nice. Let’s look in here for shirts, a couple in that window look nice.”

“I don’t know, maybe with a less stand-out pattern. I don’t want to look like a kaleidoscope!”

“So, plain or a pinstripe then, not a rainbow flag?”

“Yes, that sounds good. How about with a contrast collar, some of them look really nice.”

“Oh, yes, Nick, that blue with the narrow white stripe and the white collar will look great on you.”

We continue from shop to shop, slowly getting more and more loaded down with clothing and accessories. Tasha reminds me that I will need more plain dark socks and I should get a pair of comfortable shoes, sneakers or sandals will just not work. She has a point; I don’t want to be the teacher with the sandals.

“I think we’re nearly done,” Tasha groans as we approach the end of the high street. “Can you think of anything else. Do you want a sports jacket?”

“Well, I’ve got one that fits if I need it. I did wonder about a waistcoat, but is it a bit too grown-up?”

“For you, maybe. For you as a teacher, probably not.”

“Is there really a difference between normal everyday me and teacher me?”

“Absolutely. The teacher version of you is more mature in every way.”

“Okay, then let’s have a look in here. Last shop, then I’ll buy you a pastry from that little café across the street.”

“And a hot chocolate?”

“Yes, and a hot chocolate. With marshmallows.”

“Fine, just this one last shop.”

We separate inside the door and wander around in different directions. I’m about to give up when I hear Tasha calling my name from the far side of the shop.

“What have you found?”

“This!” Tasha points to a mannequin that’s sporting a pale grey-blue waistcoat over a shirt like the blue one I bought earlier. The silky backing is a similar colour but it has an incredibly subtle paisley pattern woven into it that looks really smart.

Tasha calls over an assistant. “Are we able to get the waistcoat separately?”

“Oh yes, of course. To fit the gentleman?”

“Yes please. Nick what size might you need.”

“Well, I’m a 96cm for a jacket.”

“Just a moment Sir, I’ll find one for you to try.” She hurries off towards the stock room and returns a moment later with the waistcoat. I’m only wearing a t-shirt and don’t need to change, so I slip the waistcoat on and fasten the buttons.

“May I Sir,” the assistant asks, reaching for the cinch buckle at the base of my back and making slight adjustments.

I stand in front of a full-length mirror and twist from side to side to get a good view of myself. Somehow, I look older, not old, but a little more mature and I really like the look and the waistcoat.

“Phwoar!” Tasha exclaims. “You look so hot in that! With one of your new shirts, you’ll be a knockout.”

“I’ll tell your boyfriend you were drooling over me!”

“Okay, I’ll cool down a bit. But you have to let Peter see you wearing the shirt and waistcoat together. He’ll fall for you all over again.”

“Sorry,” I say, turning to the assistant. “I think I’ll take it please.”

“Yes, Sir,” She manages through her broad grin. “I think you might.”

“How is your hot chocolate?” I ask as we sit outside the little coffee shop and enjoy a pastry.

“Wonderful. You never have anything hot, do you?”

“No, I just don’t like anything milky and the smell of coffee is horrible. There’s no way I could drink it.”

“You will show Peter your new clothes, won’t you?”

“Yes, I’ll probably do a Nexima Vision swop with him tonight.”

“How are the two of you getting on. Everything still cool between you?”

“Well, not exactly cool Tash, more flaming hot really.”

“Now, you’ve got to tell me everything. You can’t drop a line like that and then leave me hanging.”

“I walked him home after he had dinner with my parents. We had a very good long talk about what we expected. About limits and physical stuff.”

“Okay, and are you on the same page?”

“Yes, it was a bit embarrassing, but we do understand where we both see things going in the future. Probably in the very near future.”

“In the near future?”

“Yeah. Dad said Peter could stay with me or I could stay at his place if I ever wanted to.”

“And you want to?”

“Yes, especially after…”

“After what exactly.”

“Well, after our talk, we may have moved things to the bedroom.”

“May have?”

“Okay, we went to his bedroom and did oral.”

“Both of you? At the same time? All the way?”

“Yes. Yes. And yes.”

“You really have changed in the last few weeks. I like new you better.”

“That’s what Peter told me, only he used a better word than like.”

“Erm… You know Jack and I did, er do oral, right?”

“Sorry, yes. He told me when I had that chat with him. He also told me that he embarrassed himself – his words.”

“Tastes weird, doesn’t it?”

“Yes Tasha, it does taste weird.” I turn to look her right in the eye. “But I really like it!”

“Fuck. You’re turning so gay. Who are you and what have you done with my best friend!”

“Tasha, Can I try and explain something to you?”

“As long as it’s not about gay sex!”

“No, it’s not. Well, not exactly.”

“Okay, this sounds deep.”

“For the longest time. Several years actually, ever since I realized that I was gay, I thought that none of this would ever happen to me. I was so anxious and then so disinterested in romance that I thought it would all pass me by.”

“Did that make you sad, Nick?”

“Yes, sometimes. No matter how often I told myself that it was fine. No matter how much I became convinced that my aromatic lack of interest would be permanent. Through it all I hoped that one day things would change.”

“And now?”

“Now? Well, things have changed. The therapy is working better than I ever thought possible and somehow, I’ve met the most wonderful person in the world. Even more shocking, he appears to love me at least as much as I love him. I really never thought this could happen to me. I know it’s a cliché, but it’s true.”

“Nick, I never knew you felt so sad sometimes. You should have spoken to me about it.”

“I know, but I did want to keep my sexuality to myself, for whatever weird reason, and it was all so confused and intertwined that I just couldn’t bring myself to talk about it to anyone.”

“You think too much about others Nick. Look at what you did for Jack and me. You were in the middle of your therapy, trying to come to terms with finding your first boyfriend and still found the time to intervene and save our relationship. You might just be the best friend in the world.”

“Right, this is getting too emotional for the middle of Douglas. Finish your chocolate and let’s get this stuff into a cab and get home.”

<Nexima, voice call Peter please.>

<Yes, Nick. Call connecting now.>

“Hi Honey, are we still on for our workout tomorrow.”

“Yes, Peter, as far as I know.”

“Wonderful. How was shopping. Did Tasha get you sorted out with a new wardrobe?”

“Yes, I want to show you something.”

“And it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“No.”

<Nexima, Start a vision share.>

I’m standing in front of my bedroom mirror and I’m wearing all new stuff. I’ve picked out that nice blue shirt with the white collar, a pair of dark grey, slim-fit trousers and the waistcoat. Keeping my eyes on the mirror, so Peter can see me clearly, I twist my hips and shoulders first one way then the other. Finally, I turn partly round and look at my reflection over my shoulder.

“Nick, there’s no way you can ever wear that to school.”

“What, why not. I really like it.”

“You’ll have a bunch of horny teens having orgasms in the classroom. Boys and girls alike.”

“So, you think it suits me then?”

“Hell yes. You look so… Well, really…”

“Goodnight Peter.”

<Nexima, end the call.>

I glance at myself in the mirror one more time, then start to take the new clothes off and put them away. I won’t need them for a few weeks, and, after that reaction, I’m a little uncertain about the waistcoat. I do look good in it though.

<Nick, message from Peter.>

<What does he say?>

<He says ‘You can be really evil sometimes.’>

<reply ‘Consider that payback for slapping me on the arse’>

<He says ‘Fair!’>