Chapter 10 - Hey It's Just Hair Dye
“Nice work.” Paul laid my exam down in front of me on the lab table that Gus and I shared. Beaming, I looked up to see if I could glean any more information from him but he was already down the next aisle.

“Ooh, a compliment!” Gus said in obvious awe. “Paul never gives those. What did you get?”

I smiled, still not turning my exam over, savoring the moment. Obviously I’d gotten an A. I know he said he doesn’t give them but Paul and I have really turned the corner, you know? He comes off all tough, and I understand that – you have to be that way with the slackers, but now that we understand each other and he sees how dedicated I am, well, it turns out he’s not so bad. Not that I’m saying he’s easy on me or anything. Of course I earned this grade. I totally studied my butt off but it was all worth it, just to see this big, red…C?!? I got a C on this test?

“What the - ?” I gasped, turning my paper around and around in my hands. It can’t be true. Unfortunately a C is one of those letters that isn’t easily mistaken for something else. It looks equally awful from every angle.

Gus looked over my shoulder, “Wow, a C+! That’s great! I’ve never seen one of those in this class before…”

“This has to be a mistake,” I cut him off. “I’ve never got a C on anything in my whole life, much less a test.”

“It’s a C plus,” Gus pointed out helpfully. “Seriously, that’s really good.”

“No, Gus,” I tried to say calmly, “An ‘A’ is really good. A ‘B’ is good. A ‘C’ is average. Mediocre. Just passing.” I was getting bitterer with every word. What’s the point of even trying if I’m just going to be normal? Maybe I should drop this class after all.

“Turn in your lab workbooks in the box by the door before you leave. That’s all.” Paul dismissed us without so much as a “have a good weekend,” which frankly is the least we deserve after he just ruined it for all of us by handing back our tests on a Friday. I can’t believe I ever trusted him.

Gus was still smiling as he shoved his test haphazardly into his bag. “What are you so happy about?” I grumbled.

“It’s Friday. The weekend,” he said as if that should be enough. “Besides, I did a lot better this time. I think studying with you really helped.”

“What’d you get?” I asked. If Gus got a better grade than I did, so help me…

“A solid D.” He grinned, rolling the sound of it around in his mouth. How can he look so proud of a D?

“Wow, what did you get last time?”

“An F,” he said placidly as we walked to the door, his thick plastic safety glasses still dangling around his neck.

“I hate to break it you but a D is still solidly in the Cosmetology range.” It irks me he’s so complacent. He studied just as hard as I did and therefore he should feel just as bad as I do. It’s only right.

“I know,” he said, his mouth twisting up into a funny half smile.

We were to the door now where Paul stood collecting the lab books out the box. Seriously, he can’t even wait 10 seconds for everyone to actually exit the room - it might waste some of his precious research time. I glared at him but he didn’t look up as we dropped our books on the pile.

I had only made it a few steps down the hall when I stopped Gus. “Wait a sec., I’ll be right back.” I jogged back to the lab.

“No.” He said it without even turning around as he locked the lab door with one hand and juggled our books in his free arm.

“But I - ”

“Your grade stands.”

“I just want to know - ”

“Grade inflation.”

“What?”

“Just because you always got A’s in high school doesn’t mean you’re some kind of prodigy.”

“Excuse me, but I think - ”

“I don’t care what you think.” With that he was off down the hall, quickly increasing the distance between us. Our conversation is over and I didn’t even get to complete a sentence! It isn’t fair! He could totally ruin my chances to get into a good med school, which would ruin me for neurology. I mean, they’re not going to let someone who gets C’s stick their hands into other people’s brains, for pete’s sake!

Paul stopped at the base of the stairs and then turned around, calling out to me, “I meant what I said. You do nice work. Especially your answer to the second essay question. You nailed anticodons.”

“But,” I started but he was already gone, bounding up the stairs two at a time.

“Aaaagh!” I screamed in frustration, my voice ricocheting off the empty halls, still painted that nauseating ‘50’s shade of drab green that all biology buildings seem to be painted in.

Gus put his arm around me sympathetically, “You know what you need?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “Highlights.” Lifting my muddy strands with a practiced hand he continued, “A little color is just what you need to lift your spirits!”

“Thank you Miss Clairol,” I growled.

“No, really,” he said sucking in a deep breath and pooching out his cheeks as he eyed my hair critically. “Come here,” he dragged me down the hall and out the front door mumbling to himself about natural light and base tones. Once out in the bright sunlight of the afternoon, he planted me firmly in the middle of the cement courtyard and then proceeded to walk slowly around me, examining my hair from every angle. After several self-conscious minutes he finally decreed, “Good length but needs trimming. Natural wave could do with a little silicon smoother. And,” he paused dramatically, “Red.”

“What?” Did he think I was one of those big, plastic Barbie heads he could just make over at will?

“Red highlights will do just the trick. Really make your eyes pop.” He made a little popping gesture with his hands and smiled hopefully at me. I shook my head slowly as his smiled disappeared. “Please? Just let me do this. It’ll look really good, I promise.”

“I don’t know Gus…” The only highlights I’ve ever tried were the lemon-juice and sunlight variety that Maura and I did every summer as we laid out on her trampoline.

“Why not? Give me one good reason.” He waited as I failed to come up with anything besides the fact I’m just in a grouchy mood. “What are your plans tonight?”

“I’m working.” Which really is a good thing since I’m out of grocery money and it’s my best chance to eat something not resembling an MRE.

“Tomorrow then?”

“Uh,” my mind went blank.

“Perfect!” Smiling again, he clapped his hands giddily. “I’ll bring everything, just tell me where you live.”

………

Gus arrived punctually at two p.m., dragging Jac out of bed to answer the door since I was in Trinity’s room discussing George’s breakdown at work last night and didn’t hear him over the pounding music.

When I found them, Gus was apologizing profusely to the lump of blanket that was Jac, getting only a snore as a response.

“Hey Gus,” I smiled, actually glad to see him. Now that I’d had some time to think it over I was feeling better about the whole idea. That’s how I am though. I hate surprises.

“Oh, hi, I think I woke up your roommate here and um,” he gestured at Jac who lay where she fell by the front door.

“She’s fine. She’s tired since she had soccer practice at dawn this morning. They just got back from a game.”

“Should we, um…?” He stepped carefully around Jac.

“It’s okay. Just leave her there.” I’m so used to Jac’s narcoleptic tendencies now that I barely even notice her anymore. Really, it’s quite a talent when you think about it. I wish I had the ability to fall asleep anytime, anywhere. “Come on in the bathroom,” I led him to the bathroom I shared with Trinity since I had just cleaned it this morning. “Do you want anything? Water? Toast points with caviar?”

“Really?” he said, his eyes widening child-like.

“Well we really have water,” I shrugged.

“Oh,” he looked disappointed. “No thanks, I’m fine right now.” Glancing around the bathroom, he pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Let’s see…we’ll need a chair, an old towel, a plastic bowl and, of course, tunes.”

“Tunes?” Trinity stuck her head in the door and saw the hair dye. “Oooh! Can I help?”

Gus took one look at her and grinned. “Now there’s a girl that obviously knows her way around a bottle of dye. You can be my assistant!”

Trinity clapped her hands with joy, “I love being the assistant! Just a minute.” When she returned she had exchanged her black plaid t-shirt and skully suspenders for a lime-green smock with a lacy front pocket. Her hair was tied up in a matching kerchief with a pink rosebud attached. After she set up her I-Pod and speakers, cranking up The Shins, she snapped on some plastic gloves and presented herself to Gus.

“Bravo!” he exclaimed. “And you even have your own latex gloves! I love you!”

“I have my own stash,” she said humbly. “Now sit, Chickie,” she commanded. “And let the boy do his magic!”

I sat obediently in the chair as they clipped a towel around my neck, conferring in hushed tones with each other as they clinked various bottles together. I couldn’t hear much over the music but I did catch the words “ginger flower,” “dramatic,” and the phrase, “it’s about time,” repeated several times.

After an hour of yanking and painting and fumes and loud music and bright lights, Gus declared me finally ready for my rinse and reveal. They scrubbed my head, Trinity digging her long nails into my scalp, as I watched the water run a bloody red in the bathtub. Eventually it tapered off and I sat up.

“Now, we will just blow dry,” Gus said professionally, “and you will see the finished product! Prepare to stare!” The roar of blow dryer eclipsed the music as they tweaked and brushed and tugged. Before, Trinity and Gus had kept up a steady stream of chatter but now they were mostly silent. I craned my neck nervously to try and see in the mirror but I was sitting too low. The only thing I heard after Gus snapped the dryer off was a low gasp. It could have been from either one. Or both.

And stare I did. Then I screamed. The girl in the mirror had dark red hair with - are you ready for this? – neon pink streaks from crown to tip. Neon pink!

“It’s very Manga,” Trinity said, eyeing it as if it were a work of art.

“Yes, that’s very cutting edge right now,” Gus replied, neither of them bothering to meet my eyes.

“It’s PINK!” I shrieked.

“All the rage in Tokyo,” Trinity said seriously.

“And you know Tokyo sets the trends,” Gus commented, still not looking at me.

“Hello!” I yelled. “Why aren’t you listening to me! It’s pink!”

“Really Gus, you are an artiste!”

“Pink like bubble gum!”

“Why thank you, you are a lovely assistant. Truly.”

“Pink like grandma lipstick!”

“Next time I color my hair, I’m calling you first.”

“Pink like the Pink Panther!” With that I burst into loud tears and collapsed on the edge of the tub.

“Oh, Chickie,” Trinity rubbed my shoulder. “You just need a few days to get used to it, that’s all.”

“I will never get used to this,” I wailed, grabbing two huge clumps of hair and yanking. “You said red highlights,” I glared at Gus. “You never said anything about fuchsia!”

“I know, I know,” he hung his head sadly. “I’m sorry. It’s just, well, I guess you had some existing highlights in your hair or something and where your hair was already bleached out it took the dye really strongly.”

“What are you talking about?” I sniffled. “I’ve never dyed my hair before.”

“You had to have something put in there for it to do that,” he said lifting a particularly shocking strand. “Are you sure you’ve never streaked it or lightened it with, say…”

“Lemon juice?” I gasped. “But that wouldn’t count, it’s totally natural.”

“That totally counts,” he exclaimed, brightening. “And it is natural - a natural bleach.”

“Oh, no!” I moaned. “I used lemon juice all summer! Now what am I going to do?”

“I vote you leave it. It’s rockin’,” Trinity said. “In fact, I’d like pink highlights next time I think.”

“Well your only option at this point,” Gus said to me, “is to go darker. And all one color. It won’t completely get rid of the red but it should tone it down.”

“How dark?” I used the towel to wipe my eyes.

“Um, black.” Noting my shocked face and tearing eyes he corrected himself, “We’ll just do a very dark brown then.” Grabbing the appropriate bottles, he started mixing again. “Very very dark.”

By the time he finished a couple of hours later, it was indeed a very very dark brown. But next to the pink, anything looked better to me and after I got over the initial shock, I was pretty happy with what I saw. It looked dramatic with my pale skin, my summer freckles almost completely faded away.

“Wow, I never noticed before that you have gray eyes,” Trinity said thoughtfully as she examined my reflection closely next to hers. We could almost be sisters now.

“I don’t, they’re muddy brown,” I started but then peered into the mirror. She was right, my eyes looked a dark steely gray next to my new hair color and the bangs that Gus had cut really framed them and made them stand out.

“That’s very cool,” Gus started. “In Tokyo…”

“No more Tokyo!” I yelled. Trinity and I took one look at Gus’ serious face and burst out laughing. “Okay, we have got to get out of this bathroom! I think the fumes are going to our heads!”

……….

There’s nothing lonelier than sitting in a college apartment alone on a Saturday night. Okay, so I’m not technically alone. I’ve got Jac oozing bitterness all over the couch next to me because Jill’s on a date with, yes, Nathan. Brooklyn was already gone on her date with Evan (good-looking, some attitude – I give him a week, max) when Nathan showed up at our doorstep with flowers. Jac stayed silently on the couch as Jill left, the only sign of her smoldering was the increasingly frenetic level of channel changing culminating with her throwing the remote at the door. Luckily our remote is not all fancy like Kyle’s so all I had to do was put the batteries back in and we were back in business.

In case you are wondering where the rest of them are, Trinity is surprisingly on a date too. I know, rub salt in the proverbial wound, eh? Apparently she met him at the Kafé. It was your typical love story: girl serves guy, guy eats, girl gets decent tip, guy gets real phone number. When she left, she even packed her fake ID so I know she was excited. As for Andie, if you work for a major credit card company then she has moved permanently to Cuba, and I have no forwarding address. If you don’t, well, aside from a case of black licorice that was left on our table bearing her initials and the generous offer to share, I haven’t seen hide nor hair of the girl.

“Man, every time I see you out of the corner of my eye, I have a heart attack,” Jac grumbled. She’s having a hard time getting used to the new ‘do. Jill hadn’t liked it much either when she finally saw it. All I can say is it’s better than pink! Actually, it’s kind of growing on me. Plus, I’ll fit in at Neo’s that much better! Even if I can’t wait tables like a real waitress yet at least I can look the part, right?

“You know if you want Gus’ number, you can just ask.”

She opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by a huge crash from C301 that obviously signaled the beginning of hockey night.

After the cacophony ended, I asked Jac, “So you ever wonder what they’re really doing up there every Saturday night?”

“It’s hockey night,” she replied tersely.

“I know but how do they play hockey in their living room, anyways?”

“I don’t know. It probably involves long wooden sticks, a puck of some sort and a basic disrespect of other people’s property.” We both stared at the action on the TV but we couldn’t hear anything over the pounding above our heads.

I waited for a pause, chewing my lip. “So you want to see?”

“How?” she started and then stopped, following my gaze to the balcony. “You aren’t suggesting…?”

I grinned and nodded. “Come on, we’ve already done it once. We know we can get up there.”

“Jill has not been a good influence on you,” she shook her head but she was smiling.

I stood up, amazed at my own daring, “Don’t tell me you’re not curious.”

Clicking off the TV, she turned to me, “What do we say if they catch us?”

“First off, it’s light in there and dark outside so they probably won’t even know we’re there. And if we do somehow get caught we can just say we were, um, cleaning down here and were shaking our rugs over the balcony and we got a little overenthusiastic and one got stuck on their deck. Or we can just say we were bored. Whatever, your choice.”

She stared at the blank TV for a minute then stood up, slapping her legs. “Let’s do it.”

“Really?” My new hair color is making me adventurous. I can do anything – I’m already incognito!

Not waiting for another boring minute to go by, she slid our back door open and stood, shivering on the balcony. “You coming?”

The climbing, lifting and pulling went more smoothly this time as we scaled the brick and then their deck. In under a minute we were crouching on edge of their balcony, the wind whipping our hair around our faces as we peered in their window. “I think this might be illegal,” I yelled to Jac over the wind as we angled to get a better look. Nice of me to think of that now, right?

“Probably,” she said but she was already engrossed in the action inside. It was definitely better than the sitcom we’d been watching downstairs. There were two vaguely defined teams with Kyle and Roy on one and Tex and Darrel on the other. Each player held a broom and an oven mitt. The broom was obviously for hitting the puck, a plastic gorilla the size of an Oscar trophy, but the oven mitt was a mystery. The object of the game was apparently to knock the gorilla through any of the various doors, each having a certain point value.

Just as I leaned in to get a closer look the gorilla came flying at my face. Forgetting I was safely behind a pane of glass, I ducked and screamed. So much for not getting caught. The effect was immediate and a little eerie, as if the actors in a television show suddenly realize they’re being watched and start to come through the screen at you.

Roy, being the closest to us, opened the door tentatively. “What are you doing out here?”

“Um,” I stammered, all thoughts of wayward rugs gone from my mind.

“They’re spies!” Kyle bellowed. “Don’t let them get away!” Despite the fact neither one of us made any move to leave, Roy and Darrel raced to the deck and dragged us inside.

“How did you get up here?” Darrel paused to ask wonderingly, glancing over his shoulder down to the parking lot.

“Actually, we - ” Jac started.

“Silence!” Kyle yelled. “Don’t move!” Again, we weren’t. But whatever.

Darrel and Roy stood guard over us as Kyle paced back and forth, holding Ur protectively, which he’d grabbed first thing during the confusion. Tex stood holding his broom, watching me with a bemused expression on his face. Kyle, apparently having come to some conclusion, stopped pacing and said to Roy and Darrel, “Search them.”

“What?” I screeched. Both Jac and I are wearing plain sweats, no pockets, and t-shirts.

Jac put her hands on her hips and growled, “First boy to lay a hand on me loses teeth.” Standing at her full height, hands in fists, I believed her.

Apparently Kyle was willing to give it a go though, or maybe he just liked a challenge because he came right up to her, standing eye to eye. “Well you trespassed on my deck!”

Before either one could twitch and start World War III, Tex intervened, “Yeah, yeah and we broke into y’all’s apartment.” He put a hand on Kyle’s massive shoulder, “Hey man, relax. I don’t think they mean us any harm.”

“Right,” I piped up at Kyle’s elbow. “Sorry about Ur. It was my idea to return him.”

He didn’t even break eye contact as he barked, “And you?”

“It was my idea to not steal him in the first place,” Jac said, amazingly calm. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she is actually enjoying this.

“So what were you guys doing out there then?” It was obvious Kyle would accept nothing less than the honest truth so I bit the bullet.

“We were bored downstairs and it sounded like you were having fun up here. We just wanted to see.” I took advantage of my childish voice and tried to look innocent.

Finally looking at me, Kyle squinted and barked, “Who are you anyhow?”

Jac snorted and then laughed, Tex joining her. “It’s just hair dye,” I mumbled indignantly.

“Okay…” he muttered, obviously not quite convinced but willing to go with it.

“So, you guys wanna play?” Roy asked.

“We’ve got extra brooms,” Tex added, handing me a short one with straw fibers and a yellow handle.

“Fine,” Kyle said realizing he was outnumbered, “but this one’s on my team.” He handed Jac an industrial grade janitorial broom with a metal handle.

“Round three!” Darrel announced, standing on a chair in the kitchen and holding a large, chipped, ceramic plate over his head. “Go!” he yelled as he threw it down and watched it smash into a million pieces. Well I guess that explains all the noise. And maybe the oven mitts?

I shot Tex a curious look to which he just shrugged and answered, “It’s not hockey if nothing gets broke.” Then grinning, he winged the gorilla my way and yelled, “Keep your elbows up, missy, and your head down! Coat closet’s ten points!”

………

Several exhausting hours later we finally gave up indoor hockey. Kyle and the gang decided that midnight was the perfect time to go for a stroll down to the gas station and get ice cream but I was too tired to join them.

“Sorry guys,” I called weakly from my spot on the couch. “If I’m going to make it to church tomorrow, I’ve got to go to bed.”

“Door’s open,” Jac called to me as she followed Kyle out into the cool evening, the moon casting her shadow in stark relief on the door.

Tex stood over me offering me his hand, “Come on, I’ll make sure you get home all right.” I couldn’t help but smile. I live downstairs but he wants to make sure I get home all right.

I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet. “You’re such a gentleman,” I laughed.

“Nah,” he said, tipping his hat brim down. “Just want to make sure you can recognize a front door seeing as there was some confusion about proper entry points earlier this evening.”

“Oh, right,” I blushed and followed him down the stairs.

“Now, missy, this is what we call a front door. It’s where the normal people enter and exit.” He tapped lightly on my door.

“Thanks,” I smiled. “Should I be writing this down?”

“Nope,” he grinned back at me. “I’ve seen what you do with your notes.” We both laughed a little more and then it hit me. We’re having a moment. Yeah! I’m officially having my first doorstep scene! As soon as it hit, the elation was gone and the nerves set in. He’s not going away but what am I supposed to do? Does he want me to kiss him? We haven’t even been out on an official date yet. Isn’t that supposed to come first? Ack! He’s moving in! What do I do? Do I even want to kiss him? I don’t know! I don’t even know how to do it. Can this be any more awkward? Ok, he just put his arms around me. Ewww! I’m all sweaty! Now what? Why didn’t we ever have a Young Women’s lesson on this? That would have been useful! Ok, he’s moving closer. And he’s wearing a hat! What am I supposed to do with that? Is there some protocol for hat kissing? Now he’s…hugging me. Oh, ok. We’re just hugging. I can do that. Now he’s saying good night and he thinks my hair looks really nice.

“Good night, Tex,” I whisper but the night swallows the sound and he’s already gone. I walk inside and shut the door, leaning heavily against it and sliding to the floor. I just got my first real hug! I cover my burning face with my hands. I am such a nerd.

………

Hey there,
How’s your weekend going? I just got back from the bonfire after the football game. We lost but whatever. Who cares when you get to chant around a big fire, right? You would have laughed so hard tonight. The cheer squad got their signals crossed and launched into this weird cheer about when you’re down, you’ve already lost or something. I think it was meant to demoralize the other team when they’re losing except that we were like 30 points behind so instead it just made our team want to jump off the nearest overpass. The principal actually ran out there to make them stop, lol! Shoulda been there…It would have cheered you up from that awful biology grade.
Luv ya!
Maura
- posted by Charlotte @ 2:10 PM