Boring Girls(28)

The hair dye smelled awful and it sort of burned my scalp. It was also really messy. We were really paranoid of getting it on the bathroom walls or the rug, but we were as neat as possible. When I looked in the mirror after Fern had finished applying the dye, my head looked like it’d been dipped in grape jam. We waited the allotted time, and then I jumped in the shower to rinse it off. I scrubbed at my head and watched dark purple water splattering in the bathtub and running down the drain. Vampy, Fern’s mother had said. I couldn’t wait.

Fern blow-dried my hair, not letting me look in the mirror yet. “Ooooh, it looks really, really good,” she cooed, and when I finally looked in the mirror, my mouth dropped open.

It was shiny and black. It made my skin look even paler and my blue eyes jumped right out. I could not believe the difference. My hair had always been mousy and brown, and my eyes and skin tone bland. Now I looked pretty. I couldn’t believe it. I felt beautiful.

Mom was going to kill me.

“Let’s do your makeup,” Fern said, excited.

I sat down at her vanity and she hovered over me. Again, I wasn’t allowed to look in the mirror. I’d never had anyone do my makeup before, and it was awkward. When she was putting on the eyeliner and mascara I kept blinking and squeezing my eyes shut and smudging her work. My eyes started running at one point, and Fern had to dab away the smeared makeup. After a few minutes she stepped back. “You put on the lipstick,” she said. I unwrapped the dark red colour I’d chosen and stroked it onto my lips as accurately as I could without the aid of a mirror.

“Done,” Fern said. “Check it out.”

Once again I gasped at my reflection. I barely looked like myself. I looked like a wonderful, beautiful version of me. She’d powdered my skin, making it even paler, and used a dark grey eyeshadow and tons of black liner on my eyes. There was a hint of pink blush on my cheekbones, which prevented me from looking too washed-out pale, and my lips looked gorgeous with the lipstick. I looked amazing.

As we’d been doing makeup, the smell of cooking from the kitchen had begun to permeate the bedroom. I knew it was time for me to head home. I hated to wash the makeup off, but there was no way I could go home done up like that. It was going to be hard enough with my new black hair. Sadly, I wiped off the lipstick and scrubbed my face with soap and water.

I said goodbye to Fern’s mother and brother, stupidly trying to pay close attention to their interaction for traces of incest. Finding none, I kicked myself. Fern and I walked outside onto the front porch. The sun had gone down, but it was still early enough in the evening that my parents shouldn’t freak out too bad that I’d stayed out after school.

“You look amazing,” Fern said. “I’ll call you Friday and I’ll let you know what time we’ll come by on Saturday to pick you up. And we’ll figure out what to wear too,” she grinned. “I swear that red dress will look awesome with your new hair.”

I clutched my shopping bags and smiled. “Thanks for today, Fern.”

“Thank you,” she said. “You know, I’m really glad we met.”

“Me too.”





ELEVEN


When I got home, my parents and Melissa were eating dinner at the kitchen table. I walked in and immediately my mother’s fork clattered to her plate.

“Rachel, what have you done?”

“I dyed my hair,” I said, raising my chin confidently.

Mom, Dad, and Melissa all stared at me. I fearlessly made eye contact with all of them.

“I think it looks pretty,” Melissa said.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling at her.

“What was wrong with your nice brown hair?” Mom asked unhappily. “You looked so pretty before.”

“I think I look pretty now,” I retorted.

“Okay, all right,” my dad stumbled. “I work with kids your age. There are goth kids in some of the classes I teach —”

“It’s not goth!” I interrupted. “You don’t get it.”

I went to my room and slammed the door. I threw my shopping bags on my ugly bed and sat down at my desk. Stupid bedroom. I looked at myself in my mirror. My hair looked awesome. And here I was, in my stupid room, with my stupid family who didn’t understand. I thought of Fern, with her nice mother and her cool bedroom, and felt tears of jealousy prickle my eyes. I lay down on my bed next to the shopping bags and pressed my face into the stupid flowered pillowcase.