Spring
At the end of the month, Rain asked me out on a date. We ended up going on a couple, but while we had a good time, there was very little chemistry. It was too bad; they were my first dates in close to a year and I had fun. We decided just to be friends, and that was that.
My magic day was February 12, the day my cast finally came off. My lower leg looked awful, milk white, atrophied, some scarring on the ankle because of the extensive surgery and the muscles and all being so mangled, and embarrassingly furry. Fortunately, I'd worn the slacks I'd made in anticipation. I put on a sock and shoe for the first time in close to four months. It felt weird, and I had a sharp expectation of just how much PT was going to suck when the doctor gently rotated my foot. It hurt. A lot. A whole lot. I went home with a few preliminary exercises to work on, and I had to remember to wiggle my toes. I'd gotten into the habit of keeping them absolutely still during the healing period so that nothing would affect the ankle or its constituent parts. The cast had been lightweight and there was the anti-grav on it to boot, but it had still been extra mass to carry around and I noticed a difference with it gone. I wasn't out of the woods entirely yet, but I felt like the trees were getting thinner, at least. My PT place was open twelve hours a day because people were more likely to use the service if they could fit in their work easily, so it wasn't hard to schedule appointments before school, after school, and after work. And I was able to boost my hours at work again because I could manage sometimes with just one crutch. Yay! Finally.
I'd completed a couple of skirts under Uncle Steve's tutelage, and now we were looking at a suitcoat. We chose a nicely fitted pattern with a reasonable collar, hip length, with three buttons. I had a long waist, and this showed it off nicely. He also went to work on a couple of new blouses for me and I had to get my dress form remade, because all the sitting, a more lax diet, and giving up dancing meant that I'd developed some boobs. Nothing really eye-opening, just an A cup, but I was excited to finally have something going on up top, and I could finally wear a bra. A whole new world opened up to me; pretty little delicate bras. It was a small thing, but I felt more confident and feminine. Most of my tops were fine, but the silk blouses Mom had commissioned for me were too tight.
By the end of the month, I had graduated to a forearm crutch and was going full out at PT. It hurt a lot, but I was determined to regain mobility. My physical therapist warned me that I could set myself back a lot by pushing too fast, so I reluctantly cut back to the guidelines she gave me. My motivation was enhanced by the communication I'd gotten from the University of Arts London, informing me that I'd been accepted into the short summer programs I'd applied for.
The last day of the month, the TV show that had filmed in part at the store started to air, a new episode every week, and we sponsored a viewing party for the staff and any customers who wanted to join, with refreshments, and we had discounts for viewers of the program when they bought before or after the viewing party. It was kind of wild; the contestants were all very ambitious, and as we'd seen in our store, willing to play a little dirty when they thought they wouldn't get caught. They stabbed each other in the back as well as the front, they bullied... it all was extremely dysfunctional, a toxic workplace where I was glad that I didn't have to be, and to top it all off, they all had to room together for the duration of their time on the show. The host of the show, a mild-mannered, nattily-dressed man, had his hands full. Each week they received an assignment to make a certain type of garment and given restrictions, like the type of fabric, or the customer who would wear the clothes. They dressed women who were down on their luck, older women, children, employees from a delivery company who were looking for a new uniform. And the bitching and moaning! They all wanted just to dress models, whose thin bodies made the clothes hang the best. They didn't seem like very nice people, but having had decent interactions with the twitchy guy, I decided to root for him. He seemed like the least offensive of the bunch. We quickly developed a habit of going in for the party even when we weren't working, and we mostly helped get the store in order shortly before the program came on so that the ones who were working at night could see some of it too. We didn't have a lot of customers who were just there to buy at that time; they almost always sat down to watch the show with us before making their purchases.
I did a lot of activities with my friends, movies, a concert, coffee on the weekends, and they came out to the house frequently to play games or just hang out, and if Imogen never apologized, she did seem to gradually get back to normal as she settled in with her family. Aunt Barbara, when I saw her at the library, said that things were going better than she'd hoped, so that was a relief. And I did things with Rob and Rain too, not just the Red Cross club stuff or class. It was really nice to have friends, and sometimes Arch joined us too. I was catching on to pre-calc much better than I'd expected, and he talked me into joining the math lab as a tutor. That was totally surreal.
About midway through March, Rob asked me out. And while Rain and I had no chemistry, Rob and I had plenty. It felt weird, though; we had great chemistry, but not too much else in common. He didn't not like my friends, and vice versa, but he didn't really mix in. He kept to himself and I tended to too, not awesome, and sometimes conversation suffered. I don't think either of us really knew what to do about it, so we went on dates and had a good time when it was just us two, but we weren't really developing a relationship either. He sure was a good kisser, though.
My photography was coming along well. We were shooting people now, bit of a different kettle of fish from things and landscapes, and I seemed to have a knack for it. The yearbook committee always kept an eye on the photography classes and I was asked if they could use some of the candids I'd shot around school. I was flattered and agreed. The colored film we used in class we just sort of chucked into a machine that did the hard work and produced prints at the end; we did learn how to monitor the thing as it worked and add chemicals and paper and all. Far more fun was the black and white pictures; we learned how to print them from the negatives, developing the images on photography paper from start to finish, the photos dripping on a line. Deri was almost always willing to be a subject for me, and I usually used my digital camera, experimenting with filters and lenses and effects, but for Mom's birthday on the 22nd, I composed a formal portrait of Deri in one of the outfits she usually wore around Themyscira at the folly. It was a real labor of love for Deri; we were having a cold, wet spring and she was freezing. But I got several good shots and printed them at school, framing the best one and giving my sister a copy. Mom loved it. It might have been the best present I ever gave her. Dad asked me for a copy, so I made one for him. Then the relatives at the company saw it and wanted their own too, so I took advantage of the class policies to print them and paid my teacher for all the chemicals and paper I used in the school lab.
I woke up on the last Saturday of the month feeling really good. My bed curtains had been a smashing success this winter, keeping all the warmth in while I slept, making my nest cozy and inviting. I lay there, listening to the rain lash my windows, perfectly content. I'd had a great time on my date with Rob the night before, and I was starting to walk without my crutch. Mom was taking me to Uncle Steve's in the afternoon to be fitted for clothes from his new collection: a skirt, two blouses, slacks, a pretty green wool spring coat with black embroidery, and due to some weddings the family had been invited to in the coming year, two beautiful couture formal dresses. One was strapless, lavender silk taffeta under white organza that was heavily embroidered with sprays of flowers, tea length. The second was a real evening gown, heavy cobalt silk charmeuse, floor length; the skirt was full but not worn over a fluffy petticoat so it hung in beautiful rich folds, a beautifully fitted bodice with a graceful neckline, and a drape that went around my shoulders and gathered over the bust. It was elegant, beautiful, but not too much for a teenager. I'd had silk shoes dyed to match the blue dress, and had silver sandals for the lavender one. The hems were adjusted meticulously. There was a complimentary silk shawl for the shorter embroidered dress, and the long dress had a long matching velvet evening cape, heavily embroidered in gold and silver, with a collar, that I would be able to wear for years. Well, the dresses too, they had a timeless sort of look that Uncle Steve specialized in. Deri was getting dresses for the weddings as well, but she would go separately so that we both had the full fun experience.
I felt like lazing around for a good while longer, but there were things to do. First was my workout; it was important to build strength as well as flexibility in my ankle, so I hauled myself down to the fitness room, where I lifted weights in an efficient circuit, then hit the pool for cardio in a way that was most supportive for the ankle. I wasn't kicking very vigorously, but part of that was an excess of caution on my part--I knew that the bone was fine, I'd seen enough x-rays, but shaking the habit of protection was something I hadn't considered--and some was just that the leg wasn't very strong yet. Then I showered and primped; I'd had another appointment with the really good stylist and she'd increased the white in my hair to streaks, made the blues and purples light to medium, and added green for a pretty spring effect. I went down for lunch and looked through the library for books on the twenty-first century for history class; I had to pick up an important event and analyze it for my term paper. I was leaning toward the first Kree-Skrull war and incorporating eyewitness accounts from Aunt Emma and Uncles Tony, Steve, and Bucky, but first I had to ask them. Nobody needed another rote account of the invasion attempt, but the only account by the supers who had fought appeared in Colin James' book, and that was limited by space. It would be nice to maybe get a fresh slant on it, or at least a couple of new stories to inject some life into a well-known historical event. There was a ton of information in the Justice League archive and the Avengers' after-action accounts, but nobody outside got access to those and I wasn't going to even try. I shot the four of them an email that specified that the interview would be about the very first battle and the fallout; I didn't want to look at the later ones, especially the one where Uncle Steve was killed. That had to be traumatic to remember, even after all this time.
Then it was off to the fitting. Uncle Steve was really pleased for me that I was going to get to study abroad a little this summer and interested in what I was going to study. "Pattern cutting is interesting and good to know from a technical standpoint, but I think draping is more useful for someone who is creating custom looks on a small scale. When you get back, I'll show you the basics and we can compare the two methods." Finally he was done with the fitting for my clothes, explaining why small adjustments provided such good results, and with a final hug, we left. Then we went upstairs, where Mom was prepared to buy me a strand of pearls to wear with the special occasion dresses, recognizing that the pearls from Themyscira weren't really...right. I didn't really want a strand of pearls; I associated them with my Grandma Alex, so we compromised on a single large, beautiful Tahitian pearl, icy white, set on a platinum bail that came with a dainty chain, and smaller matching earrings.
Afterward, we went for hot chocolate to warm us up in the cold rain, and then home. I was doing some stretches when I got a call from Iris, excited because her apartment application had been approved. She'd be moving during the summer, and wanted me to help her decorate. I agreed, of course, and asked for a drawing of the layout so we could think of fun things to do. And maybe I'd learn things in my class that would be helpful. I also told her to see if she could line up Grandpa Henry for any carpentry work we might need, and hung up feeling happy and useful.
That night I got a call from Rob, asking if I'd like to go to our sophomore prom in three weeks. I accepted, of course; it would be the first school dance for which I'd have a date. And prom! I texted Justine asking what kind of dress would be appropriate. At my old high school, the dresses were designer, but HKHS had a different vibe. She said that formals were worn, but nothing high-end, which was good to know, and offered to go shopping with me.