Red(6)

Nothing was out of the ordinary until she entered the school and noticed that everyone was staring at her and whispering. It got worse as she walked down the hall; some people gasped in horror, and others laughed at her outright. Even the littlest freshmen, the ones who would never dare to speak to her in real life, were giggling. Had she remembered to put on her clothes? Yes, she seemed to be fully dressed. Was there something on her face? Was the back of her skirt tucked into her underwear?

With mounting panic, Felicity raced to the bathroom. And there in the mirror, she saw … roots. A whole inch of shining, platinum-blond roots, lacking even the slightest hint of strawberry. There was no way to hide them. Everyone had already seen her. Everyone in the whole school knew she was a big artie fake.

She usually woke herself up when she screamed.

Felicity switched on her bedside lamp and rushed to her mirror with a pounding heart. Her fingers scrabbled through her hair, parting it over and over. But there were no roots. She had gotten a touch-up at the salon only eight days ago. She breathed slowly in and out, willing the adrenaline to stop pumping through her body. It was only a dream. Her secret was safe.

Felicity climbed back into bed. It was four in the morning, but she couldn’t relax enough to fall back asleep. The feeling was distressingly familiar—sleep had often eluded her in the weeks leading up to Scarlet Sunday. Sometimes she had tossed and turned all night, worrying about how her mom would react if she was rejected from the pageant. But everything was okay now. She was officially a Miss Scarlet contestant, a status symbol that could only lend credibility to her red hair.

But every time Felicity closed her eyes, all she could see were the icy stares of her brunette classmates. Had one of them discovered her secret? It seemed impossible. Sure, Gabby’s mom owned Rouge-o-Rama, but Rose kept security tight. She had once told Felicity that her own family didn’t even know where the salon was. And even if Gabby and her friends had stumbled on Rose’s appointment book, all the listings were under code names. There was no way for anyone but the stylist herself to know who Raspberry Ripple was.

Felicity decided she was being paranoid. The brunettes were probably just jealous of her. And who wouldn’t be? She was in an enviable position, one coveted by every girl in town.

When her alarm went off a few hours later—for real this time—Felicity felt as if she had been up all night. Her mom took one look as Felicity slumped into her chair at the breakfast table and asked, “Baby, do you feel okay? You look awful.”

“Thanks, Mom. You know how much I love hearing that.”

“You’re not sick, are you?” Ginger felt her forehead, then combed her fingers through her daughter’s hair. It felt like an affectionate gesture, but Felicity knew her mom was probably just checking her dye job.

“I’m not sick. I didn’t sleep well.” Felicity squirmed out of her mom’s reach. “Could you hand me the phone? I want to make an appointment at the salon for later today.”

“But you’re already scheduled for Thursday.”

“I had The Dream again last night, Mom. It would really make me feel better to go today instead. Please?”

“Okay, baby. You just eat your breakfast and I’ll call for you.” Ginger kissed Felicity on the top of the head, then yelled, “Boys! Breakfast!”

Andy and Tyler barreled in from the den, carrying action figures they had mummified in tinfoil. They both had pumpkin-orange hair—the hair Felicity should have had. The twins were the result of the short fling her mother had had with a redheaded pageant judge from out of town when Felicity was in fourth grade.

“Hey, Lissy, which is awesomer, Captain Spacepants or Captain Rocketpants?” Andy scrambled into his chair and placed his spaceman neatly in the center of his eggs.

“I like Captain Rocketpants.” Felicity winked at Tyler, who beamed. His adult front teeth were much larger than his baby teeth, which gave him a rabbity look.

Andy pouted. “Nooooo, Captain Spacepants is way awesomer!”

“Andy, eat your toast-pants,” said Ginger, sending both boys into gales of laughter. These days, they both thought adding “pants” to the ends of words was the funniest thing in the world.

Felicity tried to keep her brothers quiet while her mom phoned Rouge-o-Rama. For maximum discretion, the salon had an 800 number that showed up on the caller ID as a tech support hotline. “Hi, Rose. Do you have any appointments open this afternoon?” Felicity crossed her fingers. “Oh, that’s perfect. She’ll take the four o’clock. Raspberry Ripple.” Ginger wrote down a four-digit code on a Post-it note. “Four-seven-two-three. Got it. Thanks so much.”

Ginger hung up and stuck the Post-it to Felicity’s arm. “That’s the code for the door today. Four o’clock. Will you pick up the boys from day care on your way home?”

“Sure. Thanks, Mom.” Felicity gulped down the last of her orange juice, kissed Ginger’s cheek, and grabbed her backpack. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay. Chin up, baby. Even if you’re not feeling your best, you’ve got to make everyone else believe that you are. It’s the face you present to the world that matters, not how you feel inside.”

Felicity nodded. She’d heard that advice from her mom countless times.

“That’s my winner. Have a good day. Boys, say bye to your sister.”