“Pan! That is so adorable!”
Pan blushed, turning to look at herself in the three mirrors behind her.
She had to admit, she looked pretty, but not pretty enough for…
She shook her head. No, that wouldn’t get to her, not here, not in public, not in anywhere but the safety of her own house where she could hide in her father’s arms, hide from the rest of the world, and pretend that nothing had happened, nothing at all.
Right now, she just had to tell herself that her tattered dignity was on the line…to at least wait until she was back in the car with Bra, where she could sulk outside of the limelight.
“Pan, what do you think?” Bra asked her, jumping up onto the platform next to her, shooing the woman fitting the dress away.
Pan studied herself.
Bra had gone all out today—pedicure, manicure, a new hair-style, a little bit of make-up, not enough to notice, really, just enough to make her shimmer. She already had about two other dresses, 4 pairs of shoes, 3 pairs of jeans, and 7 shirts and blouses sitting in Bra’s trunk, all courtesy of probably her only remaining best friend in the world, next to her uncle.
Her hair was still as simple as it’d been when she’d been picked up, but it was layered now, her bangs even. The make-up on her cheeks was pale, glittering, her lashes glissed by mascara, but not noticeable. The lip gloss allowed the shimmer to spread evenly across her face. Bra said that when she finally figured out what to do, when all of this was as over as it was going to get, the twinkling would spread to her eyes, when the spark that was Pan came back.
Pan looked at the dress again. Bra wanted her to wear it to her birthday party next week…since it was still warm out (of course, Bra wouldn’t have it any other way!), it would go perfectly. Navy-blue-bordering-on-black, it came to just above her knees, hugging her body like a dream. An orange embroidered dragon flew along the bottom hem, very reminiscent of the mighty Shen-Long. An orange cord tied in the back, coming under her breasts, tightening the sundress to show that Son Pan, the infamous tom-boy, had boobs. Even tied, the ends of the cords hung down her back to her rear. Two navy blue spaghetti straps held the dress up.
Pan loved the dress, there was no way she couldn’t.
Bra knew it too.
She set her hands on Pan’s shoulders.
“What’d we’d do, is we’d just up half your hair, and tie it back with an orange ribbon the same color as the cords…or we could find you an orange headband. I have an orange cardigan at home that you can have, I’ve never looked too good in the color, it was a present from my grandfather—color blind old coot,” she laughed affectionately. “For shoes, well, those blue-ish black pair of strappy sandals with the inch and a half heal would work perfectly.”
Pan smiled at her reflection.
“Bra?”
“Um hmm?”
“You had this dress ordered in advance, specially made, didn’t you.”
Bra grinned at the statement, giving her friend a squeeze.
“Guilty as charged! I was hoping I could con you into shopping a few nights ago, so that you could wear it to your belated-welcome back party…but after what happened, I’m kinda glad that I couldn’t get you out here.”
Pan nodded, turning to look at her side.
Was she really this thin? Was she really this petite? Did she really have a figure?!
Bra grinned at her friend’s shaken expression.
“Well, Pan, think I can get you into it next week?”
“It’s the same colors as my old gi…only reversed,” Pan mused, her fingers flitting slowly over the hem and embroidered dragon. “Like…like Daddy’s had been for a while….”
“My mom has a picture of Goku in a blue gi with a orange shirt, something like that, I know that the majority of it was blue anyways—anyway, she has a picture of him in his normal colors gone bassackwards from when they were kids hunting for the dragonballs.”
Pan smiled, her eyes lighting just a little, misting just a little. Quickly, she drew her fingers under her lashes before the mascara could run. Her lips parted in an almost genuine Son smile. With a quick gasp, she turned and caught Bra in a hug.
“I take it you like the dress.”
Pan nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“Nice to know I got you happy for at least five minutes of today.”
Pan stepped back, looking down at the dress.
“Who’d have ever thought that I’d actually want wear an honest to Dende dress?” she laughed, twirling around like a child.
If only Gohan and Videl could see you, Pan…then maybe they won’t be so worried…well, worried about you wearing a dress, yeah, but not about recovering from what my—
“Bra, come on,” Pan said, snapping her fingers in front of her face. “It’s nearly six o-clock, and I promised my parents I’d be home for dinner.”
“You’re actually going to eat?”
“Bra, I haven’t been sick for a few hours, and have honestly been starving since lunchtime. The only thing I want right now is my Grandma ChiChi’s steamed rice and anything else she deems to cook.”