Notes Of A Precious One (Volume A1)

CHAPTER 7

"How about this one"?

"With that many frills? No, thank you".

"Geez, girl, relax and try to wear a dress for once"! Stephanie threw up her hands in mock exasperation as Amalia slipped the frilly dress back on its hanger and gave it back to the attendant with them. "Or would you prefer something a bit more"-

"Practical"? Amalia asked, then crossed her legs and looked away. "By all means, go ahead".

The girls were at a clothing outlet somewhere at the mall, partly because Stephanie had firmly decided (after going through and commenting loudly on the lack of fashionable wear in Amalia's closet) that her friend needed a new party dress and partly because the girl in question wanted to window shop after they were done. Amalia had merely tagged along, with Azura trailing beside her. Amalia had readied herself in case the Mini-Con freaked out at the mall, packing a few Energon treats to bring with her, but so far Azura was at ease with the noisy atmosphere and had even made a friend out of two of the outlet's attendants, who were letting her try on some outfits made specially for pets.

Amalia was just...confused, at the moment.

"Look, Steph, I appreciate the help and all, but I'd rather you just enjoy the party, alright"? Amalia tried to cajole her. "I can just stay in the background...do the music or something".

"Then you'll be right at home with Ryder there"! Stephanie implored. "He's the DJ for the party! You can add your bit alongside his"!

"Then why do I need a new dress"? Amalia asked, casting the ebony-coloured dress Stephanie was holding a wary look.

"Because - and I put this the way I'd explain it to my youngest cousin at 2 years old - my family NEVER lets anyone look shoddy at their parties, so yes, you are gonna go looking like"-

"Like what? A blasted plastic doll"? Amalia snapped, two of the veins near her voicebox glowing from tension. "Stephanie, look. I appreciate the effort, but unless the dress you're picking is something I can wear many times, then I'd rather just be a wallflower and do my own thing, alright"?

"Also, I wouldn't wanna embarrass you at the party. Like, you're pretty, you know? And me"? Amalia gestured to herself. "I look like I'd need a couple rounds of plastic surgery before I look presentable", she sighed, then pulled her hood up. "Or maybe a thick cover of makeup".

Amalia looked at the floor, avoiding eye contact with her reflection even. What she had uttered earlier wasn't a white lie, or a desperate attempt to back out of their venture. A good chunk of her childhood had been ruined by kids who thought it funny to loudly proclaim how weird she looked with her glowing veined neck and buffer figure, and a few adults had partaken in that mocking as well. Her father, ever the pacifist, had once slapped a younger man hard enough to knock him out cold on the pavement when he had tried to take a jab at how 'ugly' his daughter looked, but that show of aggression hadn't stopped anyone else from trying.

That was why she wore the hoodie, a cropped piece of cobalt-blue fabric with scalloped half-sleeves and pointy wolf ears on the hood given to her by her aunt, Lola, on her 11th birthday. She had taken to wearing it whenever she was out of the house or out of the Autobot base in general, but eventually she begin to wear it everywhere, even to school and during sports. None of her teachers had asked her to remove it, but her P.E. teacher had asked her why she wore it and she had only given a vague answer. None of their assurances of 'don't judge a book by its cover' could account for the fact that people just wouldn't stop pointing out that one trait from her hybrid parentage, and so the hoodie had become her armour. Her second skin, like a snake, except she could remove and put on this 'skin' at will.