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CHAPTER 6
Dean needs to like me less. Hell, I need to like him less. The way he watches me makes me squirm in that good way where you want to squeeze your legs together to ease some of the pressure. And the way he’s so damned sure I’m going to end up with him, makes me all hot and bothered, it pisses me off.
I don’t like someone having that much control over my senses. I like it even less that it makes me feel weak during a time where I need to feel strong. My legs shake the entire car as I chew on my bottom lip, thinking of all sorts of solutions.
From the corner of my eye, I catch my reflection in the rearview mirror. A few blonde strands fall over my crystal blue eyes, and just like that the idea pops into my head.
So, he likes my blonde hair, does he? We’ll just have to do something about that. Feeling slightly evil, I drive to the nearest drugstore. There are too many hair dyes for me to read through, and frankly the thought bores me. Instead, I grab the first dark one I come across and check out.
The instructions are simple: open, cut, mix, put it on for thirty minutes. I do that, leaving it on for an extra thirty, just to be sure it gets as dark as it can.
Blue pours off me in the shower, and that’s when the first red flag appears. I see the second warning sign when I step out of the shower and stand in front of the mirror, noticing the inky blue that has stained my forehead and shoulders. Shit, I should have put on some petroleum jelly or something.
The full impact of my grave error comes when I remove the towel from my head. Surely it’s only that black because it’s wet. Right?
My heart in my throat now, I grab the color box out of the trashcan and confirm what I feared. There, clear as day, or night I should say, are the words that would have saved me from this faux pas had I bothered to read them. Midnight Blue Black.
“Well color me blue,” I say to my reflection.
Hoping it’s not as bad as it seems, I blow dry my hair. There is no effect. The dark blue strands stare right back at me. Now, it’s not that I have anything against dark hair. I love it, in fact. But on me…
I look like a damned vampire. Or maybe more of a demon, given my tan skin. Yeah, definitely something possessed. The unnaturally black hair makes my eyes stand out, also unnaturally. While I embraced the gothic look as a kid, it’s not who I am now. I can’t look like this!
Yanking off my towel, I jump into the shower again. Four times I scrub my hair, once with body wash. Each time blue runs down my body, giving me hope.
It’s a huge disappointment when I look at myself in the mirror again, only to find that my hair has in fact, remained exactly the same. My shoulders slump as I grimace. I bend over the sink, pressing my forehead onto the white porcelain.
“Why, why did you do this? Stupid. So stupid.”
I hear the front door slam shut a moment before Reese’s voice calls to me. “Mom, where are you?”
“In the bathroom. I’ll be right out.” Throwing on the first pair of sweats and shirt, I go out to the living room. “So, I think I fucked up.”
Reese, who’d been standing, typing into her cell phone, looks up. A blood curdling scream bubbles out of her and she falls back, tripping on the coffee table. Sheer terror like I’d never felt before fills me and I literally climb the curtain behind me.
Tears spring from my eyes as I cry, “What?”
Reese looks at me with confusion as she fumbles to stand. “Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“Oh my God. What did you do to yourself?” she screams, then starts laughing hysterically, doubling over. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I scared the shit out of YOU? Fuck, kid. I thought you’d seen a fucking ghost behind me. Or worse, a mosquito!” I’m still shaking.
“Sorry. You shocked me with your new… look.” She walks up to me and takes a chunk of my hair in her hand. “It’s a bit darker than I’m used to.”
“Well, it’s a lot darker than I wanted. Kid, you gotta help me. I dyed it out of impulse, but I can’t. I just can’t! Now I have no idea how to get rid of it. And it’s everywhere!” I say, pointing to my forehead, neck and shoulders.
“So, you don’t want to look like that?” she asks.
“No! I want my hair back.”
“Why did you dye it in the first place?”
My lids close and I shake my head. “You don’t want to know.”
“Okay. I’ll call for help.”
