I Am NOT a Catgirl! Ch. 4: The Basics (Patreon)

Unfortunately, I didn’t have Augie to help me in the next class. Embroidery.

That’s, uh, sewing fabric together, right? I just need to make a dress?

But when I walked into the room, girls had busied themselves with wooden hoops clamped around small squares of fabric. They weren’t stitching pieces of anything together.

I tried to act natural and do a precursory sweep of the room before the instructor saw me. In the centers of the squares were intricate pictures of different subjects. One brown-haired catgirl poked her needle through a red rose. A blue-haired catgirl pulled a string down over a blue butterfly.

How were they doing that? Just poking strings over the fabric?

“Madeline? I am Ms. Gertrude.” An older catgirl with silver hair and a bit of a bend to her back shuffled to meet me. “Are you well-versed in embroidery?”

Please be a nice granny. Please be a nice granny. “Not really, unfortunately.” I sorted through the venom spat at me about Sorentina and picked an excuse. “I was raised with a sword instead of a needle.”

“Ah. Yes. Sorentina.” Gertrude chuckled, but it didn’t sound like it was at my expense. That was a good start. “Surely they taught you basic satin stitches? Chain stitches?”

I flushed. The only ‘stitches’ I’d ever endured were in my leg when I was seven. She may as well have been speaking Greek. “No, ma’am.”

Gertrude’s smile disappeared, and she shook her head. “Goodness. What is this island coming to?” she grumbled.

I didn’t have a good reply ready.

She shuffled to the far corner of the room and bent over a wooden chest. After shifting around a few compartments, she lifted a rectangular package wrapped in paper and sealed with twine. She returned to me and passed me the package.

“This is a kit I’ve assembled for embroidery meant for the kittens of our prestigious school. I will guide you through it.”

While I didn’t sense the same malevolent disdain as my last two instructors, I still blushed. Being told that I’d have to start at the child level of anything was a little insulting. “T-thank you, Miss Gertrude.”

“It is no problem at all, Madeline. We will send you back to Sorentina a true lady.”

God, I hope not. “Mhm,” was all I managed. I found an empty chair and unwrapped the package. Inside was a hoop, a square of fabric, a needle, and at least a dozen colored threads of varying lengths.

I looked around the room, and it suddenly hit me. My mom had loved to watch old movies and television shows, and I remembered a lot of them having a bunch of women sitting in a circle with hoops like these. Was this what they were doing?

Gertrude looked at me expectantly. Did she think I knew how to set this up? Christ. I picked up the hoop and studied it. There was a metal screw at the top that connected two squares of wood. I slowly twisted the screw, and the tension between the squares relaxed. Okay, but what’s this going to do? I kept unscrewing.

A second hoop that I hadn’t realized was separate from the first hoop dropped down into my lap.

“Oh! There’s two!” I said before I could stop myself.

The blue-haired girl next to me glanced my way and hid her giggle behind a cough.

“Saoirse bless the girls of Sorentina.” Gertrude sighed as she made her way to my side.

There’s that name again. Saoirse had to be a goddess or a queen.

“Madeline, dear, lay the fabric over the inner hoop. That’s the one that fell into your lap. Good. Now center it as best you can.”

 “Alright. Now what?”

“Take the outer hoop and stretch it over the fabric, then over the inner hoop. It will pull your fabric taut and keep it in place.”

This part was easier said than done. The hoop kept slipping too far from the fabric, or one of the edges wouldn’t match up, or the damn fabric kept moving on me. I had to reset it and try three times until it snapped into place. “Ah ha. There we go.”

The girl beside me didn’t hide her giggle this time.

“Destiny. Focus,” Gertrude chided gently.

“Yes, Ms. Gertrude.” She was still smiling as she returned to her butterfly.

“Next, Madeline, tighten the screw. Not too tight, or you will break the hoop. Yes, that’s good. You can tug the edges of the fabric to remove any more wrinkles or folds. Like that, yes. Now you’re ready to begin.”

“What am I making?” The colors of the threads didn’t exactly give it away.

“A stem of lule misres.”

Destiny’s ears flicked in our direction at the term.

“Where do I start?” I had no idea what lule misres were, but I hoped ‘stem’ meant ‘flower.’

“With the green thread. Once you thread your needle, I will show you a basic chain stitch.”

Threading the needle was another enormous challenge after putting the hoop together. I didn’t think poking string through the eye of a needle would require capped dexterity, but here we were. I could tell Gertrude’s frustration mounted the longer I took. But we both shared the unfortunate understanding that if I didn’t do it myself, I wasn’t going to learn.

And then there was the stitch itself. I was supposed to keep one hand on the back for the needle and then poke it back through with the same hand. The one I couldn’t see. Watching Destiny, it was like she understood where exactly the needle was going in and where it was coming out every single time. I had a hard enough time patting my head and rubbing my stomach simultaneously.

So I jabbed that damn needle into my forefinger. Then into my thumb. Then back into my forefinger. All so that my first chain stitch could look like a knot.

“Your thread is knotted,” Gertrude said flatly.

Oh. Little pricks of blood appeared on the fabric around the green thread, and I shook my head. “How do I unknot it?”

“With your needle. Or cut it.” She retrieved a pair of scissors. “In the interest of time, let us cut it.”

She trimmed the knot, I pulled the thread through, and we were back at the beginning. How the hell did Destiny have a butterfly that looked like it could fly off of her fabric when I couldn’t get a single stitch down?

Etiquette is suffering.

By the time class was over, I’d made a total of three chain stitches. Well, more like two and a half, but one more poke, and it would have been three. My fingers stung from multiple self-inflicted stab wounds, and I still wasn’t any closer to understanding what a lule misre looked like.

The final class in my day was sewing.

Isn’t that the same as embroidery?! Just how many needles were these girls going to stick in my hands?

The sewing room was parallel to the embroidery room, and the girls filtering in moved to stand next to dress-wearing mannequins.

Okay, now I’m making a dress?

“Good afternoon, students.” This instructor didn’t look much older than me. Her vibrant green ears and tail reminded me of a lime. “Miss Madeline, welcome to the Venicia School of Etiquette! I am Miss Ariel.”

I collected my scabbing fingers to my navel and curtsied. “Thank you, Miss Ariel.”

“Ah, very graceful. Well done.”

I’ll hold onto that compliment for my entire life. “Where shall I go?” Oh, God. I’m starting to talk like them.

“Right this way, if you please.” Ariel led me past Veronica the Witch, Kaycee, and a handful of unfamiliar faces to an empty mannequin beside Destiny. “I took the opportunity to ready your dress form and kit for you. Are you familiar with sewing?”

If only there were something that I was ‘familiar’ with in this school. “No. My apologies, Miss Ariel.” I bowed. Why did I automatically bow?!

“Oh, please do not fear! I will teach you, and you will have your peers to guide you!” She gestured to Destiny. “Destiny is an excellent seamstress. I placed you beside her just in case.”

“Y-you are too kind, Miss Ariel.” Destiny blushed and curtsied. The maid dress on her mannequin looked like something I’d find at a high-end costume store. There were so many ruffles and buttons that it was hard to imagine her sewing each one on by hand.

Ariel turned back to me. “First, we will drape the fabric of your choosing.”

I froze. Drape? Like curtains? Over what?

“Miss Ariel! I would love you to look over my work when you have a moment!” Veronica called from across the room. “Your invaluable opinion matters to so many of us.”

“Oh, of course, Miss Veronica.” When Ariel looked back at me, I caught Veronica flashing me a wicked smile. I wanted to slap it off her face.

“Miss Ariel, I can get Madeline started,” Destiny offered. “It’s no trouble.”

“That’s very kind of you, Destiny. Thank you. I leave Madeline in your capable hands.” Ariel bowed and made her way to Veronica.

Ariel seemed to act and address us more like a fellow student than a teacher. While it was refreshing not to feel like an ant beneath a microscope, I’d wager that it lost her some credibility with girls like Veronica.

“I’m sorry for laughing in embroidery class,” Destiny murmured. “You reminded me of how my first day was. I struggled with it a lot at first, too.”

“Seriously? Your butterfly looked like you conjured it from magic and not thread.”

She smiled and averted her gaze. “T-thank you. That’s really kind of you to say.”

I shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

“Are, um, your fingers okay?” Destiny winced. “I saw you stab them a few times.”

“They’re fine. I’ll live.” I touched the shoulder of the—what had Ariel called it? Oh. Right. The dress form. It was soft and stuffed with padding. I kept my voice low, afraid to give Veronica more bullets for her gun, and asked, “What did she mean by ‘drape’?”

“I’ll show you. Come this way.”

I followed Destiny to an enormous wardrobe where she opened the doors to reveal long, folded rectangles of at least a dozen fabrics, individually wrapped around a wooden plank.

“First, choose a bolt of fabric that you like,” she instructed.

I frowned. I’d always been a jeans-and-T-shirt kind of guy. Maybe a polo for interviews. I didn’t know the difference between each fabric outside of the colors. Well, I liked red. I’d kept the red streak in my hair at least, and maybe I could make something that matched.

No. Stop thinking like that. You won’t be here long enough to sew a dress to match your hair. Get it together, Kelmer.

I shook my head and snatched the only bolt of red fabric anyway.

Destiny’s eyes widened, and her smile returned. “Oh, my. Red satin. That’s brave.”

“I like red.” The fabric felt smooth and cool to the touch. “And I like how this one feels.”

“Then that’s the one we’ll use. Now we go back to your station.”

Behind my designated dress form was a toolbox filled with scissors, pins, needles—great, more needles—narrow strips of fabric that Destiny called ‘bias tape,’ and four spools of thread.

She took the scissors from the box and pointed to the bolt. “Hold the fabric up so I can reach the edge.”

I adjusted it so my hands were on either side of the wood, putting the bolt parallel to the floor. Destiny took the fabric and flipped it around the bolt four times, until the edge dusted the ground. She cut straight across the opposite end, giving us a large piece to work with.

“You can set the bolt aside.” Destiny held up the fabric and unfolded it. “This is about how much you’ll need any time you start draping a new dress.”

I tried to eyeball it, then reminded myself for the second time that I didn’t want to be there long enough to complete a dress. “Alright.”

“This is the part where you decide how you want your dress to look.” Destiny situated the satin so that half of it folded over the front, and the other half rested down the back. “You don’t have to make it in Shi Island’s style if you don’t want to.” She rolled to the balls of her feet, looked toward Ariel and Veronica, then lowered her voice. “Though I recommend not copying San Island’s styles at all. Miss Ariel doesn’t like that.”

I had no idea what San Island’s styles looked like. So that should be easy enough. “Roger that.”

“What?”

“Oh. Um. Right. Yes, thank you.” I went to rub the back of my neck, heard Gwendolyn’s voice snap in the back of my head, and dropped my hands to my abdomen. “No San Island styles. We can do anything else.”

“Exactly.” Destiny nodded. “I’ve tried a few different drapes that I really like. Here, I can show you.”

I’m sure Destiny would have made more than a few fashion designers foam at the mouth with how quickly and efficiently she worked. As she pinned and folded the fabric into a dozen different designs, she dropped words like ‘pleats,’ ‘layers,’ ‘lining,’ ‘crosswise,’ ‘form-fitting.’ I watched in awe, amazed by how she quickly created shapes I never knew fabric could make.

A lot of her terms flew right over my head, but I did my best to pay attention. She showed me how to use the pins and avoid more finger wounds. She was kind enough to let me choose the designs I liked best, despite me knowing so little about fashion, and then showed me how to replicate them on the other side.

I was very, very slow, and had to redo my attempts multiple times. But by the end of class, I had grasped what ‘pleats’ and ‘gathering’ were, so I called that a win. Maybe my newfound knowledge would help me impress a girl later. Destiny and Ariel both had only compliments, despite my ‘brave’ color choice.

I couldn’t believe how exhausted I felt after just four classes. And I was starving. I went looking for Augie in our room, hoping we could head to the dining hall together. But she wasn’t there. In fact, no one was in the hallway or lingering outside of their dorm rooms.

It didn’t matter. I couldn’t wait. I wandered to the kitchen at the end of our hallway and started sifting through the cold boxes. Now that I’d seen magic in action, I wondered what kind of spell they cast on these to keep them at such a perfect temperature without any ice.

I found a wooden box with Veronica’s name on it. Honestly, it could have been poison crafted for her science fair project, and I still would have eaten it. Anything to make her day a little harder.

“Oh, hey. I didn’t expect to find anyone here.”

I started, slammed the cold box closed, straightened, and whipped Veronica’s box around my back to hide the label. “T-Tristan. You’re out of your room?”

“Yeah. I thought I would grab a snack while classes are still going.” He ran a hand through his hair and chuckled. “I forgot that new students have a shorter schedule. We haven’t had one in a while.”

I’m supposed to have more classes? For a moment, I forgot all about my need to talk to Tristan. Instead, I imagined having even one more class on top of my current workload, and I wanted to melt into the floor. How did the girls handle all of it? I shook my head and cleared my throat. “You can’t call for food?”

“No, I can. It’s just…nice to get out and walk around a bit.” He shrugged, and then his face brightened. “You’re the one who knows a lot about Earth, right?”

The thought of classes vanished, and my goal reappeared. “Yes! I heard you talking about San Francisco!” I looked around. Who knew how many eyes and ears Celestia had in this place? “Look, I need to see you. Alone. As soon as possible.”

Tristan smiled, and I didn’t like it. I knew that smile. I was doing this wrong. He closed the distance between us. “Madeline, right?”

“Y-yes, but—”

“It’d be nice to see someone who knows where I’m from.” He reached around my back, and I only had a second to wonder what he was doing before I felt a brand new sensation that made me freeze. “There’s a lot we could share.”

Experienced fingers stroked my tail from base to tip, plying the limb in a way that made goosebumps rise on every inch of my skin. I gasped, then clapped a hand over my mouth.

How the hell was it that sensitive? What was this sudden heat rushing to my stomach?

“Oh? Is this new for you?” His movements grew more urgent, and my knees grew weak.

“Mhm…” I whimpered and rested my forehead on his shoulder. I didn’t want him to stop. I couldn’t think about anything else.

“I’ll keep an eye out for your name,” he whispered in my ear, then released my tail.

A tremor ran from the tips of my ears to my toes as I watched him grab a yellow fruit from a cold box, shoot me one last smile, then vanish into the hallway.

I crumpled to the floor. There were so many things wrong in my head, chest, and stomach.

First, another dude had just turned me into a fucking puddle, and I’d let him. But I was as straight as a board. I wasn’t into dudes. At all.

Second, my tail was now a known nuclear weapon to be used against me. I abandoned Veronica’s box and touched my tail. It was a lot like touching my own arm—nothing happened. But my hammering heart and the tension between my legs suggested otherwise.

Third, which voice was begging me to feel it again? Matt or Madeline?

I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing.

How the hell was I going to get it across to him that I was just another guy who needed help? Especially if he could disable me in under five seconds?

I’d have to be fast. And stay at least ten feet away from him at all times. I just needed the right words to say.

I grabbed Veronica’s box and ripped off the top. Tiny cuts of meat, vegetables, and what appeared to be slices of cheese were arranged in separate compartments. I ate it all cold. It was delicious, because of course it was.

One tiny victory for the day would have to be enough.