Francine & Earl

Quit

Today was the day.

Phase one of the plan had begun, which only involved Francine putting on a dress. A dress that seemed to be staring at her ever since she woke up. The light blue fabric was too out of place in her closet full of faded jeans and sweatshirts, the sight of it leaving an uneasy feeling in her chest. She couldn't remember the last time she wore a dress willingly.

Sighing, she grabbed the garment off the hanger, already feeling the dread build. As soon as she stepped foot into school, eyes would be on her. There would be whispers of behind hands and blatant stares at her new appearance. Most people thought of her as a man, and it would be a shock to see her wearing something usually associated with being feminine. She felt as though she was putting on a costume and hoped that it was good enough to fool the school's population.

Francine glanced at herself in the mirror after putting on the dress. It hit just above the knee, thankfully hiding what needed to be hidden, and she didn't look half bad. Quickly glancing around her cluttered room, she made sure nothing was watching when she did a quick spin. The skirt flew out around her, and she laughed at the feeling. 

"Francine?"

The girl in question looked up to find her mother leaning against her doorjamb, a smile twisting her lips. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight bun, and Francine knew where she was going once she spotted the suit jacket draped on her shoulder. Her mother was a practicing defense attorney, working for a law firm a few towns over. From the time Francine could punt a football, her mother was in the office working cases. And, as far as she knew, Lillian Waters never lost.

Smoothing down the skirt of her dress, Francine picked at the fabric and waited for her mother to speak. Maybe her mother would think that she finally got through to her, even though the real person who did was tiny boy who was too adorable for his own good. Or, she would disapprove of what she wore. Just one poorly hidden disappointed look would shatter the confidence she had been slowly building up ever since the plan had begun.

The scent of lavender filled her nose and she felt her mother wrap her arms around her waist in a hug. Looking up at her, her mother wiped a tear from her mascara coated lashes.

"You look so beautiful, Francine. I'm glad that you're finally becoming a proper young woman. Come on, let me do your makeup."

Those words hurt her more than any look she could have gotten.

* * *

Stepping down from the last flight of stairs, Francine hesitantly touched her face. She was almost afraid that the concealer that was put there would stain her fingers. Her mother's lesson on make-up mostly went over her head, but she could say with confidence that she would not be able to do this everyday.

After being fully inspected, she was allowed to leave her room for breakfast, only because her mother's case was in fifteen minutes. She was grateful for that because she didn't feel like arguing about the fact she was wearing converse instead of flats. Or worse, heels.

Sighing, Francine walked into the kitchen, not wanting to think about that possible outcome only to let out a scream when she saw two figures at the table. Jonathon was sitting across from her father, who was happily munching on a Poptart. Her best friend, on the other hand, looked as if he saw a ghost.

"Dad? When did you get back?" she asked, rushing over to give him a hug. Her dad gave her a wide smile, showcasing the sprinkles lodged in his teeth while Jonathon just stared at the table.

"About twenty minutes ago, princess. I got the details for expansion all settled, and besides, there's more urgent business here that I have to take care of," he said, then gestured his half-eaten Poptart in Jonathon's direction.