Chase McClusky is following her around like she’s a dog in heat. Barf!
Still the same,
Gabriel
I leafed through the photo album until I found my second-grade picture. My hair hung just past my shoulders, my freckles were scattered across my nose like pepper on a fried egg, my smile was just a little crooked. I stood in front of the mirror. Jenny was wrong. I
had
changed since second grade. My hair now fell down my back, and my adult teeth had filled in those gaping holes where my baby teeth had once been.
But I could be more stylish. Who couldn’t? I taped a photograph from
Vogue
to the mirror. Now, that’s chic, I thought, evaluating the model’s sleek makeup and flirty haircut. With a pair of scissors in my hand, I snipped at my hair and combed through it with my fingers. I snipped again, glancing at the picture. I wanted to look like that girl from the magazine. She was glamorous and mysterious. I cut some hair away from my face and pushed it back. It fell forward again. I slapped some gel into it and spiked it up. It wilted. I cut some of the length from the back. Now one side was longer than the other, just like in the picture. It looked fabulous on the model, but I simply looked bedraggled. It just needed to be evened up a bit. I hacked away.
The floor was littered with hair. My hair! And when I looked in the mirror, that pitiful girl staring back at me looked like a newly-hatched baby bird. I sat on the edge of the bathtub and wept.
“Jane?” I heard my father’s voice. I stuffed a washcloth into my mouth to muffle my sobs. “Janie? I’m coming in, okay?” The doorknob turned. “What happened?” he asked, astonished at my tearstained face and my tattered hair.
“Oh Daddy,” I cried, and threw my arms around his neck.
He held me there for a long time, stroking my back. Then he quietly said, “Want to go to the hairdresser?”
“People will see me,” I moaned.
“Hang on.” He came back with a ball cap, which he placed on my head. “Let’s go.”
The hairdresser did the best she could to fix the mess I’d made, and my new do actually looked rather flirty. It wasn’t what I’d had in mind, or what I truly wanted, but it was passable. I decided to fake it out. “It’s just the look I was after,” I announced at dinner, and Dad winked at me from across the table. He was truly my hero that day.
Dear Bubba,
Remember when I asked you to hook me up with some visibility cream? Well, forget that. I don’t need it anymore. Send vanishing cream instead. I really need to disappear.
Insincerely,
Harriet Hairdresser
(Alias Gabriel)
Sharp and Jazz were standing on the porch when I opened the door. “Hi, Jane,” said Sharp. He was looking quizzically at my hair but had the grace not to comment.
I wish I could say the same thing for Jazz.
“What happened to you?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Where’d your hair go?”
I resisted the urge to touch my head and chose not to respond. Instead, I smiled at Sharp. “How’s everything?”
“Why’d you cut your hair?” Jazz persisted. “It’s wild. Really wild.”
“Shut up, Jazz,” said Sharp. “Did Zander tell you that Peggy’s taking us to the courthouse Friday so we can see how the legal system works? Chord’s ditching his classes to go with us. Peggy said you can come, too, if it’s okay with your parents.”
Anything was better than a boring day at school, even joining the homeschool brigade. “Mom’s at the grocery store. I’ll let you know when she gets home.”
Jazz was still looking at me wide-eyed. “You look way different,” he said. “Way different.”
“Unfortunately for you, you look the same as always,” I snarled, and then I slammed the door.
“Peggy
needs
me to go to court with them Friday,” I told Mom, running my fingers through my very short hair. “Course, that means I’ll have to miss school,” I added in an offhand manner.
“Oh, how tragic!” said Mom. “We all know
Still the same,
Gabriel
I leafed through the photo album until I found my second-grade picture. My hair hung just past my shoulders, my freckles were scattered across my nose like pepper on a fried egg, my smile was just a little crooked. I stood in front of the mirror. Jenny was wrong. I
had
changed since second grade. My hair now fell down my back, and my adult teeth had filled in those gaping holes where my baby teeth had once been.
But I could be more stylish. Who couldn’t? I taped a photograph from
Vogue
to the mirror. Now, that’s chic, I thought, evaluating the model’s sleek makeup and flirty haircut. With a pair of scissors in my hand, I snipped at my hair and combed through it with my fingers. I snipped again, glancing at the picture. I wanted to look like that girl from the magazine. She was glamorous and mysterious. I cut some hair away from my face and pushed it back. It fell forward again. I slapped some gel into it and spiked it up. It wilted. I cut some of the length from the back. Now one side was longer than the other, just like in the picture. It looked fabulous on the model, but I simply looked bedraggled. It just needed to be evened up a bit. I hacked away.
The floor was littered with hair. My hair! And when I looked in the mirror, that pitiful girl staring back at me looked like a newly-hatched baby bird. I sat on the edge of the bathtub and wept.
“Jane?” I heard my father’s voice. I stuffed a washcloth into my mouth to muffle my sobs. “Janie? I’m coming in, okay?” The doorknob turned. “What happened?” he asked, astonished at my tearstained face and my tattered hair.
“Oh Daddy,” I cried, and threw my arms around his neck.
He held me there for a long time, stroking my back. Then he quietly said, “Want to go to the hairdresser?”
“People will see me,” I moaned.
“Hang on.” He came back with a ball cap, which he placed on my head. “Let’s go.”
The hairdresser did the best she could to fix the mess I’d made, and my new do actually looked rather flirty. It wasn’t what I’d had in mind, or what I truly wanted, but it was passable. I decided to fake it out. “It’s just the look I was after,” I announced at dinner, and Dad winked at me from across the table. He was truly my hero that day.
Dear Bubba,
Remember when I asked you to hook me up with some visibility cream? Well, forget that. I don’t need it anymore. Send vanishing cream instead. I really need to disappear.
Insincerely,
Harriet Hairdresser
(Alias Gabriel)
Sharp and Jazz were standing on the porch when I opened the door. “Hi, Jane,” said Sharp. He was looking quizzically at my hair but had the grace not to comment.
I wish I could say the same thing for Jazz.
“What happened to you?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Where’d your hair go?”
I resisted the urge to touch my head and chose not to respond. Instead, I smiled at Sharp. “How’s everything?”
“Why’d you cut your hair?” Jazz persisted. “It’s wild. Really wild.”
“Shut up, Jazz,” said Sharp. “Did Zander tell you that Peggy’s taking us to the courthouse Friday so we can see how the legal system works? Chord’s ditching his classes to go with us. Peggy said you can come, too, if it’s okay with your parents.”
Anything was better than a boring day at school, even joining the homeschool brigade. “Mom’s at the grocery store. I’ll let you know when she gets home.”
Jazz was still looking at me wide-eyed. “You look way different,” he said. “Way different.”
“Unfortunately for you, you look the same as always,” I snarled, and then I slammed the door.
“Peggy
needs
me to go to court with them Friday,” I told Mom, running my fingers through my very short hair. “Course, that means I’ll have to miss school,” I added in an offhand manner.
“Oh, how tragic!” said Mom. “We all know
Similar Books
