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We parked outside the tailor store

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We parked outside the tailor store. Now I was getting nervous, hoping that they wouldn't ask me to remove my clothes.

"You know, if you don't like something about your uniform, you can get it changed. As long as the color and Logo is on, it is fine."

Fernando said, making me relax a bit.

"If they do say something, you better come to us because dad ain't paying so much money for nothing."

"What's the name of the school?" I asked because I had no clue if the school even is known like that.

"Redcrest High." Fernando said.

"As it's already in the name of the school, the color of the uniform is crimson red and blue," Lorenzo added with a smirk, as if he had insider knowledge of the institution's secrets.

I've never heard of that school, but it sure as hell sounds like I don't belong there; probably filled with all those rich snobs who think they're better than the rest of us. The very thought made me feel bad.

Walking into the tailor store, the bell above the door chimed a cheerful welcome, though the atmosphere inside felt anything but welcoming. We were greeted by a woman who greedily eyed my brothers, her gaze lingering a bit too long for comfort.

"How can I help you today, Mr. Ramírez?" she purred, batting her eyes at them, completely oblivious to me standing beside them like an invisible specter.

"We are here to get a uniform tailored for our sister, and I suggest you stop eye fucking my brother and me in front of our sister before I have you fired." Lorenzo retorted sharply, his voice dripping with barely concealed annoyance.

I couldn't help but be taken aback. You'd think those words came out of Fernando's mouth, but they came from Lorenzo's, a side of him I didn't expect to see.

Lorenzo, usually the laid-back one who cracks a joke to ease tension, now stood with a steely resolve, demanding respect in his own way.

"My apologies, please follow me," the woman stammered, quickly shifting her attention to the task at hand.

"What kind of uniform would you like?" she asked, trying to regain her composure.

"A skirt, pants, or an overall?" she continued, her voice now tinged with a hint of apprehension.

"How many do I have to get?" I quietly asked Fernando, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the prospect of multiple uniforms.

"Well, I'd say you'll need one for every day and two for gym class," Fernando replied, his tone more reassuring now.

"No, she'll have to get more," Lorenzo interjected, his voice firm and decisive.

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