A Boy's Room No More

Upon arriving home, it took Victoria three trips to carry all of her bags of new clothes and books in from the car. It was a nice start, she mused, but she knew that girls were expected to own alot more different outfits than boys were. Perhaps a bit unfair, but Victoria wasn't complaining; she viewed each outfit she wore as a new way to express the darkness and femininity of her new gothic soul.
The only problem was that she didn't have anywhere to put her new clothes. But that was a problem that was easily rectified.
Obtaining a large, black garbage bag from the kitchen, Victoria tore through Jon's dresser and closet (she didn't even see herself as being the same person as him anymore), dumping all of his male clothes unceremoniously inside. Victoria would have been content to pile them up in the backyard and burn them while dancing in triumph, but her mother wisely counseled her against it, and instead talked her into donating them to charity (all except the underwear, which they threw out). This left more than enough room for her clothes (which, after all, were alot less bulky than his had been), while removing yet another unwelcome reminder that she had ever been anything but a girl. But that wasn't the end of it; Victoria also took the liberty of tearing down all of Jon's posters of sucky bands and sports teams, removing his drapes and dragging away his CD collection, with plans to trade them for albums from artists she actually liked.
Victoria looked around, pleased with what she had accomplished; she didn't really have anything with which to redecorate (yet), although she was satisfied that the room, bare as it now was, had been purged of all trace of masculinity; soon it would be as Gothic and as feminine as she was.
As she began filling Jon's old underwear drawer with her new bras and pairs of panties, she stumbled across the reciept upon which Liliane, the flirty shop girl at the lingerie store, had written her cel number.
Victoria smiled; it was time to make a call.