I Am NOT a Catgirl! Ch. 6: The Barrage (Patreon)

The next day, my thoughts warred between doing a half-decent job in my classes, building a plan with Augie on infiltrating Tristan’s schedule, and just what the hell I could say to Tristan that would make him believe me.

Cooking once again set the tone for the day. This time, Sergeant Glaze wanted us to cook and baste a rack of ‘rotusk’ ribs. I realized I’d never seen uncooked ribs before, and these squishy pink masses were the length of my arm. I made a mental note to steer clear of rotusks after I left the school.

Kaycee sliced hers into perfectly-sized sections, while some of mine were close to the bare bones they began on, and others were enormous hunks of meat. They cooked unevenly, and Ms. Glaze was not impressed that I included the empty bones while they baked. I’d hoped there would still be something to nibble on in the end, but whatever meat they’d struggled to cling to with my inconsistent slicing turned to ash. Everything seemed to roast so damn fast when magic was involved that it made it impossible to keep tabs on.

The sauce was its own problem. I scored a malicious glower while I crushed the garlic wedges with the handle of my knife. Apparently, there was a correct way to crush garlic. I called bullshit as I watched Kaycee chop a wedge into fine pieces and then press down on them with the flat of her blade. That wasn’t crushing at all.

“You’re as apt and graceful as a newborn man,” Ms. Glaze grumbled as she watched me spill the dark sauce I’d made all over my apron.

If only you knew.

While the other girls ate their delicious-looking meals, Ms. Glaze dumped mine into the garbage and made an angry comment about another day of poor marks. Whatever. It wasn’t like I’d be in the school much longer anyway.

I went to presentation class with brown splotches on my dress that had seeped through the apron and bits of rib meat trapped beneath my fingernails. I flicked a few remaining crumbs of garlic from my sleeve, and my thoughts wandered to Augie.

The easiest way to make it seem like she wasn’t an accomplice in my taking her scheduled slot would be to occupy her. Inconveniently. She couldn’t be sitting in our dorm room waiting in case Celestia showed up, but she couldn’t be somewhere like the kitchen or the library. If another girl saw her focusing on something else while she was supposed to be with Tristan, Celestia would find out about it.

A sharp, knobby elbow dug itself into my side, knocking the wind out of me. I instinctively wrapped my arms around my stomach and stepped to the right, meeting Veronica’s furious ice-blue eyes. Her black hair flowed behind her, whipping around her back with her tail as she turned. God, she’d be so much hotter if she wasn’t a bitch.

“I know it was you,” she hissed through perfect white teeth. “First my dinner, then my breakfast?”

I raised a hand. “Hey, I only ate one—”

“Filthy liar!” she snapped and raised a hand. “[Steal]!”

“Wait, what—?”

I thought she was going to slap me. Instead, a necklace that had been with me since I first arrived disappeared from my throat and reappeared in her fist. I didn’t have an emotional connection to it, but it was unnerving to know that Veronica could snatch anything away from me with a single word. Like a damn JRPG.

“[To Dust],” she snarled. The chain and pendant crumbled into a thousand grains of sand and trickled to the ground between her fingers. She uncurled her hand and blew what remained into my face.

“Nice party trick,” I murmured.

“My mother is a famed [Assassin], you detestable little roach. Consider this your single warning. Take something of mine again, and you’ll find yourself deep in the ground where you belong.”

I wanted to laugh at her, but I swallowed the sound in my throat. I suddenly had an idea. “Have you met Tristan yet, Veronica?”

The rage in her eyes shifted to uncomfortable uncertainty. “What does he have to do with you stealing my things?” 

“You haven’t.” I let the smile curl my lips. “With how the teachers fawn over you, I’m surprised that Augustine gets to see him first.”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a split second, I really did think she’d slit my throat. “Another lie, Madeline?”

“No. She’s on his schedule in two days.” Hoping to bait Veronica and get her riled enough to do something about it was the most petty shit I’d ever been involved in. But desperate times and all that.

She leaned back and crossed her arms, then waited for a small group of catgirls to pass us. “It doesn’t matter. Good for her.”

“You’re not going to do anything about it?”

She cocked her head and studied my face. “What in Saoirse’s blessed name do you believe I would do?”

Stop her? Lock her up? Help me figure out this damn plan? It seemed Veronica wasn’t as devious as I’d hoped. “Go in her place?”

“You’re an idiot,” she spat. “Madame Celestia should lock you in the Room until you rot. Don’t ever touch my things again.” She spun on her heel and strutted to presentation class alone.

The Room? Did she mean my dorm room? Whatever.

My dreams of Veronica hauling Augie into a dark classroom and locking her inside evaporated with the last grains of sand in the air. I toed the tiny pile on the carpet that was my necklace just moments before.

Why couldn’t you lock Augie in a classroom, Kelmer? The shreds of logic I had left hit me like a truck. I was going to get expelled anyway. What did it matter if Augie placed the blame on Veronica or on me?

Maybe because I really, really wanted to get Veronica in trouble. But she seemed untouchable. Beyond humiliating me in the classroom in front of our peers, she hadn’t done anything to earn a boot from the school. Which was unfortunate.

I waltzed—literally, because that was the lesson today—through presentation with the threads of a plan beginning to form. I could ‘trap’ Augie in a classroom on her way to Tristan’s room. After a time, another girl would hear her, release her, and she could blame it on me.

But then, who would find her? How loud would she need to scream for another girl to hear her? Were the walls soundproof? If no one heard her, that would put us right back in the same place. Tristan would know about Anyona and the Defiled, confront Celestia if he had any kind of spine, and Augie would be the obvious one to blame.

Damn it.

Ms. Gertrude’s expectations for me sank even lower during embroidery. Every five minutes, she’d heave one of those sighs of disappointment that encompassed her entire body, slacking her chin, shoulders, and back. But I managed seven new chain stitches and, if I squinted, it looked a bit like the stem of a flower. So I called it a win.

The lime-tinted Ms. Ariel was once again the only teacher I had during the day who treated me like a person rather than a splinter in their ass. Destiny patiently helped me work on the red dress, which, to my shock, was already looking like a dress.

“We need to have you try it on so we can make adjustments,” Destiny said as she helped me whip-stitch a hem down in the back. I still wasn’t entirely sure what ‘whip-stitching’ meant, but it was fun to say.

“Wait, I’m actually going to wear this?”

She snickered. “What did you think we’d do with it, silly?”

Not finish it in time, for starters. I nodded, feeling a blush rising in my cheeks. “Well, I guess I’m trying it on then.”

“Ms. Ariel, may we please use the dressing room?” Destiny called to our teacher, who was, unsurprisingly, admiring Veronica’s work.

“Of course. Go right ahead.” She shooed us away without taking her eyes away from Veronica’s dress.

Destiny grabbed her toolkit and led me through a separate doorway of the classroom and turned the knob on an oil lamp before closing the door. The lamp’s warm glow fell on a small room that reminded me a lot of a dressing room in department stores. Two white rectangular ottomans were propped against the side walls with three hooks above each. Three tall mirrors angled next to each other to get multiple views framed a short white cylinder that Destiny pointed to.

“Change into your dress and then step up there.”

She didn’t turn around. I looked at her and the red fabric in my arms. “Uh. A little privacy, if you don’t mind?”

Destiny blinked and hummed. “Oh. As you wish.” She turned her back to me and crossed her arms. Her blue tail swayed behind her, and her ears flicked forward. I’d started to pick up the different poses for catgirl body language over the last few days—she was confused.

Augie was insisting I change in front of other girls, too. How weird. I quickly stripped down to my underwear, then shuffled into the dress. “Okay. I’m good.”

Destiny turned to face me and furrowed her brow. “The hooks are to hang up your clothes.” She lifted my maid uniform and gingerly hooked it to the wall.

“A-ah. Of course.”

“And you need to remove your bra so we can see how the fabric lies on your chest.”

The bra hooks were a problem. I’d only managed to put the terrible contraption on and off by hooking it at the front and spinning it around to my back. But now I wouldn’t be able to unhook it without taking off the dress again first. “Could you, er, help me with that?”

“Of course.” Destiny unhooked the strap as quickly and easily as breathing. I envied her for that.

Once it was added to the hook, I lifted the dress’s skirt and stepped up onto the platform. The chest felt…breezy, and once I looked into the mirror, even the flattering lighting couldn’t hide the brilliant red on my face. The center plunged lower than the Titanic, ending just below my belly button. There was so much sideboob showing between the thin strips of fabric that led up and around my neck that it was a wonder anything was covered. I felt my long hair tickling my lower back, and the goosebumps raised on my arms from the chill in the air.

“You look lovely, Madeline,” Destiny said, and clearly meant it. “It matches the highlight in your hair.”

I couldn’t speak. There was so much skin. It was a dress I would have loved to see another catgirl in. Any other catgirl. Even Veronica. But me? I covered my face with both hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s too sexy,” I grumbled behind my palms.

“You didn’t realize that while we were draping it?” Amusement touched her words.

“I’ve never been great at futurizing.”

She giggled. “Well, put your hands down so I can show you how to pin and fit it for alterations.”

“Can I add a poncho?”

“A what?”

I sighed and slowly let my hands return to my sides. “Nothing.”

Destiny shook her head. “You should be proud of trying something different.” She lowered her voice as she opened her kit and retrieved a pin cushion. “This school and its girls are too set in their ways. They don’t know how to break a mold.”

Her thoughts sounded a lot like Augie’s. Not all was paradise in the Venicia School of Etiquette, it seemed. “Destiny… What’s the Room?”

“W-what?” Her face lost all traces of color, and she dropped her pincushion. “Did Madame Celestia threaten you?”

I mean, beyond expulsion? “No.” I didn’t want to tell her about my conversation with Veronica. “I heard someone mention it in passing.”

“O-oh…” Destiny knelt, picked up the pin cushion, but stayed squatting down. Her eyes searched for something on the floor. “It’s awful,” she whispered. “Madeline, you do not want to earn yourself time in the Room.”

I shivered despite still not knowing what this dreaded Room held. But the sweat beading on Destiny’s forehead and seeing her tail tucked between her legs made me stop asking. It wasn’t worth her panic. “I’m sorry that I asked.”

At last, she stood and shook her head. “It’s alright. You didn’t know.” With trembling hands, she removed a pin from the cushion and pinched a section of my dress at the waist. “Anyway, we need to take it in here first.”

I struggled to pay attention and found it impossible to come up with a new conversation. Between the ridiculous dress, Destiny’s palpable fear, and dozens of tiny, needle-sharp implements being stabbed through fabric just centimeters from my skin, I was at a loss.

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time she told me to put my normal clothes back on.

Normal. Fuck. When did I start thinking of a maid uniform as normal?

Destiny helped me put the red dress back on the dress form, and we started ‘tacking’ down her changes. ‘Tacking’ felt a lot like ‘whip-stitching,’ but I didn’t argue the semantics.

“We’ll be able to line the top tomorrow, and it’ll be finished,” she said brightly. I hoped she wasn’t faking it.

“I didn’t know you could make a dress in three days.”

“If we didn’t have other classes, it would be possible to finish it in one.” She smiled. “You just have to know what you’re doing.”

“Ah, there’s the secret. I don’t know if I’ll ever reach that point.”

She reached over and touched my hand. “You will, Madeline. We all will.”

It felt like she was talking about a lot more than the dress.

I’m not even a little bit ashamed to admit that I went back to my dorm room and fell asleep. I was exhausted. I was more stressed over two days of etiquette classes than I’d ever been in my entire life. Even with a military father barking orders at me every chance he got. So damn it, I’d earned a nap.

A delicate hand shaking my shoulder woke me up. I blinked away sleep and wiped the drool from my chin before I realized it was Augie. Her pink eyes were wide, and her lips pulled into a thin, serious line.

“Madeline, tomorrow is my day of rest,” she said, “and I have a plan.”