Probably should have watched the series again before attempting to write anything, but I've been having Afraid-of-Abandonment Perry feels and needed to write them out XD
This is ridiculous. This is completely ridiculous. I can't believe she's done it, I can't believe she's done it, and I can't believe she did it all behind my back by herself without telling me and without asking me and without consulting me on how this would all turn out, because if she had, she wouldn't be standing in front of me like this, with that—that smile like it was actually a good idea!
She's also waiting for an answer, like she doesn't know what it's going to be. "Of course I don't like it!" I tell her. "You had such beautiful lovely hair! And it took you so long to grow it all the way down to your back and now you've—"
"Um," she says, interrupting me. "Perry, I do actually still have hair." She runs her hands through all three full inches of it like it proves anything. "See? If you could just–"
"—You know what I mean, Susan!" I tell her, gesturing at…at… well, whatever that horrible short hairstyle is actually called. "I really don't think that–"
"'LaFontaine'," she corrects me.
It's all just completely ridiculous. I don't know how the idea got into her head, really. She was already absolutely perfect and wonderful the way she was and then she had to go get this crazy ideas in her head and, God, it was just so completely ridiculous! "Your grandmother would hate the fact that you've decided her name isn't good enough for you," I point out. "She was always so happy that her beautiful granddaughter had been named after her."
She flinches at 'granddaughter' and 'beautiful' and rolls her eyes like I'm the one who's gone completely insane here. "You didn't even like her," she reminds me, like that changes anything at all.
"I don't have to like someone to agree with them, Susan," I tell her. "I can very much dislike someone and still see that they had a point when it comes to—"
"Perry." She says it firmly enough to stop me. I take a breath, clutching the pendant at my throat for something to do with my hands. She notices, gives me that gorgeous wry half-smile, and then says, "Hey, isn't that the one I gave you for—"
"Don't change the subject. We were in the middle of a very important discussion about what on earth you think you're doing with yourself and why you think it's perfectly okay to completely change everything about yourself like it's no big deal and you—"
"They're not big changes!"
"Yes, they are!" I flicked my wrist towards her. "I mean, look at you. Look at you! We used to always be The Ginger Twins, and now you're… well, you've cut all your lovely hair off and you're wearing these clothes that look like they could have come straight off the back of a 1950s pipe-smoking, Buick-driving car salesman. What about that dress I made you last year, the daisy one? Are you going to throw it away? Are you going to—"
"Of course I'm not going to throw it away," she tells me.
I just—I just can't deal with her. I can't deal with her. I don't know what phase she's going through or what band she's listening to or who her new friends at Silas are and why suddenly she's changing herself.
I don't know why she doesn't want to be my Ginger Twin Susan anymore, and I don't know why she expects me to be happy about any of this. I always loved being her Ginger Twin Perry.
"Well, LaFontaine, it feels like it," I tell her firmly, leaning on her new flashy name and leave.