look, a clever title.

Chapter 5:

“Hilary! Colbey and Fielding are here, down stairs, talking to Janice! You need to be ready before they run away in fear of their lives and we have to walk!” Holly yells at me through the bathroom door.

She’d been telling me to come out for at least 10 minutes but I could not get over the fact that my hair looked horrible. It used to be long and pretty; I used to be able to do things with it. And then about a year ago I had a dream that I’d never had before. It was about something that happened right after my dad died, but so many horrible things happened that year that I had forgotten about it.

Paul had promised Tristan that he wouldn’t hit me and for almost two years he kept that promise. He never hit me but that didn’t mean that he didn’t get mad at me. All the promise meant was that he had to think of different ways to punish me. One night he decided that my hair was a privilege that I didn’t deserve anymore. When I woke up I could still smell the smoke coming off my hair, still hear Paul telling me how this was something he could never do to Tristan, because his hair was only an inch long. I cut all of my hair off that night.

I still haven’t been able to let it grow past my chin and that really sucked when I was having a hair day like this. It looked like it was cemented to my head and all my efforts had done was to weigh it down with hairspray and make random pieces stand up stupidly. It was the kind of day where you pull it back and hope for the best. To bad I couldn’t pull it back.

“I need your help with my hair.” I yell back, unlocking the door and letting her in.

“How do you ever have a bad hair day? You hardly have hair for heaven’s sake!” She comes in the bathroom and runs her fingers through my hair to mess it up, and of course everything changes the second she touches it. It changes from a blob of gross to golden brown silk. My eyes, which were lifeless 2 seconds ago, shine brilliant green. And suddenly the describing word for my skin isn’t sickly it is stunning, the paleness of it setting off the shadows perfectly.

“How do you do that?” I ask her stunned that she could always fix my hair, and in the process make everything else look better.

“I’ve showed you a thousand times. Now come on, we have to go,” she pulls me from the bathroom and down the stairs, only pausing to let me grab my backpack.

Chapter 6:

Every morning was the same. Colbey and Fielding showed up at exactly 7:30 and I wouldn’t be ready because no matter how hard I tried I was always too ugly to go anywhere. At least until Holly came and fixed me. Then I would be pretty, and we would go down stairs to save them from who ever they were talking to. Then we would get into Fielding’s car, Holly in the passengers seat, me behind her, with Colbey sitting behind Fielding, always sure to put his backpack between us.

Holly would be hanging on Fielding’s arm, regaling him with some exaggerated story. Fielding would be paying to much attention to her, and not enough to the road. Colbey plugged in his headphones and tuned out the world, looking serious like he was facing one of Janice’s imaginary armies. And I would sit there, feeling claustrophobic and lonely, while I thought of Tristan.

Then when we got to school, never late despite me holding us up, and Holly would leave. And with her she would take what ever it was that made me pretty enough to leave the house. And then I would be standing there, fat and ugly, all alone in a crowd of people. It was always the same.