Puppets in Uniform ~~ An Apply Fic

𝔸𝕟𝕕𝕪

The office was white. I glared back at the wall, brightness shining in the room. Diagrams of hearts were all over the room, Dr. Rickman. That sounded like a dumbass name in my opinion.

"Miss Martinez?" The woman asked, peeking into the room. Her hair was up in a sleek pony and studs were in her ears. I nodded, observing her as she came through the door. "I'm Dr. Rickman, I'll be checking you out for any abnormalities in your heart you may have gotten from your mother. If I find any, we'll continue with some tests to learn if you inherited your mothers. If not, you'll be okay to leave and hopefully not have to come back again. Okay?" She asked, grabbing a clipboard.

"Okay." I replied, preparing myself as best as I could. Mentally or emotionally, I don't know which one would be better. Either way this will happen, I just have to man up.

—-
I glared at the test, my pride flaring at the idea of being told my heart was "weak". I doubt it would though. She looked at me a happy expression, however.

"It appears that your mother's cardiomyopathy didn't pass onto you. But I do suggest should you chose to have a child, get them an appointment to be checked out." Dr. Rickman suggested, leading me out of the room and to the front desk. I nodded, pulling at the strands of my hair. It had been getting longer lately... I don't know if I like it though.

"Alright, thank you." I muttered, signing some documents and dialing my dad. The phone rang once. Hang up. He's busy. Twice. You're being too needy. Third time and I clicked end. Lilian may call me back later. She tended to do that; it was out of step-motherly support.

Lilian is a lovely woman. She teaches for 8th graders specifically and speaks of them like a proud mother would. She's been married to my dad for four years. They dated for two years. They started to a year after my dad moved us to San Francisco...

I almost regret it now; how much animosity I had towards Lilian. I had been so cruel to her, even though I think it was mostly my dad's fault. Lilian even though she is my stepmom, is more of a stepsister. Which is silly, I'm sixteen and she's twenty-eight, I think?

Throughout my mindless thoughts I had ended up back in downtown. It was rampant with tourists for winter holiday. I hate tourists. I don't even live here. Tourists are just annoying.

Calling a taxi filled my mind, but I wasn't quite ready. My gaze was filled of a hair salon and my shitty looking hair. The purple was dirty by now, very faded and could definitely need a re-doing. I tried to do it myself... I may have dyed one of the towels purples?...

The ladies greeted me warmly, offering me a hot chocolate and told me about the service for a dying and cut.

—-
When I left the shop, an hour or so later thankfully. My hair went from purple to pink. But I was grateful for a professional to do it without damaging my hair.

The dorm room opened with a squeal, and I walked in with a happy grin. The girls all smiled at me, and happy banter flowed easily between us now.

Unfortunately. We left to go dress shopping. I wanted to lay in my bed and be a moody teenager with an angsty past for an hour. At least.

We all walked down this time but agreed to taxi back up to the school. The snow crunched underneath my boots, I chewed on my lip, somewhat anxious. What if that sketchy man starts following us? He's not, he's going into a store. I'm being irrational.

The first boutique we went into was very pretty. All the display were using pine tree branches to hold them. Jewelry glittered in a center display, while long gowns hung from racks.

"This one is pretty." Zaynab whispered, pulling over a large green one. It was very pretty. The halter top look would be amazing on her.

Anya came up with a large matching green hijab, smiling widely.
"Look at what I found!" She cheered, putting it up with the dress. The two smiled happily, and Zaynab went to try it on.

"I think I may actually take my hijab off for this event." She explained, looking at a hair accessory. I tilted my head at her.

"Is that okay? For you to do I mean?" I asked, looking at a purple dress. Zaynab nodded, a small blush on her face.

"Hijabs are encouraged but not required in Islam. The meaning behind is much more important that the problems it may cause." She explained, walking off with a sheepish smile.

—-
Dress hunting versus my feet. My feet were losing. It had become increasingly obvious that this was difficult. Maybe I'd get myself a suit or a romper instead of a dress? It certainly would relieve the stress of my skirt possibly flying up.

"Andy, did you find anything you like?" Valerie asked, her hands full of the other's bags. I shook my head, tugging on a strand of pink hair. That felt weird to think about.

"No... everything is a little too.... Feminine? I guess..." I tried to explain but it was embarrassing! I am biologically a girl... but I don't always feel like one...

Valerie smiled, grabbing my hand to tug me to a different section. There were dress shirts and silky pants. This was certainly different.

"Try over here. You could get some pants and then a nice tank top if you don't like what the dresses have to offer you." She smiled, walking away. It was nice to be supported instead of attacked.

—-
Mom smiled down at me, a dress in her hand for my first middle school dance. The flowers were a little obnoxious...
"How about this one honey?" She asked, hanging against me to see how it might fit. I shook my head, hair itching at my back.

"No mama... I don't want to look like a..." I trailed off, not wanting to say it. She would love me regardless, right? She's, my mom! She's supposed to love me regardless of anything.

Mom peered at me with an inquisitive look. Then she took me over to a different section. The sign above it said "everything-in-between!" Whatever that meant I liked this section.

"This should make you more comfortable?" Mom asked, holding up a nice pair of jeans. And then a silky top. I nodded, happiness filling inside of me.