Blowout

by Taylor Morris

  Jonah! He stood right next to Eve. Had they come together? I’d try to get to the bottom of that later, but in the meantime I was just so happy that my friends were there for me on my big day.

  Devon smiled as I sat down—facing away from the mirror—and whispered to me, “Don’t worry, kid. It’s going to be great.”

  I looked nervously at all the faces staring back at me. Lizbeth and Kristen, who smiled and waved looking faboosh with their country-club styles: Lizbeth’s honey-colored hair in long, loose curls and Kristen in a double-plaited braid lying over her shoulder. Eve smiled and waved, too. And of course Jonah, who just shrugged like he wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there.

  Megan greeted a girl at reception. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she wore a fitted plaid button-down and worn-in jeans and, most importantly, a camera around her neck. Megan showed her over to Devon’s station. I started to panic.

  I motioned to Megan to come over to me.

  “Who is that?” I whispered to her.

  “A photographer from the Rockland Register. Isn’t that amazing? They didn’t send a reporter, but hopefully this girl will snap a few good pictures for the paper. We’ve never had press like this. Oh, look,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “Here comes your mom. I guess it’s time!”

  When Mom saw me at Devon’s station, she did a double take. “What?” I asked, my mind racing at what Devon might have done. She hadn’t given me a mullet—I could tell that much—but the way Mom looked at me made me wonder.

  “We’re not letting her see until it’s all over,” Devon told Mom.

  “Ah,” she said. “Smart move, Devon. You two ready to get this started?”

  No.

  “Yes,” we both said.

  Mom turned to the gathered crowd and said, “Hello there! Thanks for joining us for our first in what we hope will be a series here at Hello, Gorgeous! I’m Chloe, owner of the salon, and we’re happy to have this first demonstration of Be Gorgeous given by Devon, who is the newest member of our salon family. So, without further ado, I hand it over to you, Devon.”

  The crowd of ten thousand applauded, and I felt myself start to sweat. I didn’t think so many people would actually show up, plus a news photographer, plus—were those cookies from CJ’s that Megan was passing around? This had become a much bigger deal than I thought it would.

  “Hi, everyone. I’m Devon, and I’m so happy you’ve joined us. If you like what you see here today and you want to come back and have me do your hair, just mention my demonstration and we’ll give you ten percent off, okay? Now, this here is my model, Mickey,” she said, clapping her hands on my shoulders, rather forcibly if I’m being honest. “We’ve already done the cut and have talked extensively about the styling problems she’s having and what she’d like to be able to do with her hair. The solution I’ve come up with is simple.” She opened one of her drawers and turned to face me with an electric razor. She flipped the switch and let it buzz and said, “Off with it!”

  The crowd laughed; I did not.

  “Just kidding,” she said. She fanned my hair out over my shoulders and said, “Now, I have a theory that Mickey’s hair is not unique. I bet there are many other heads of hair just like hers hiding under hats and scarves all over town, just begging for a way to look more glamorous and gorgeous. Today, I’m going to show you how to tame your frizzies with the best styling possible.”

  There, I thought. She’d said it, loud and without apology in front of the entire town—Mickey has frizzy hair! The worst kind of hair possible! Hearing someone finally admit to what I’d known all along made me somehow feel accepted, like my hair was just a different kind of normal.

  “Most people don’t think there’s much you can do with this kind of hair,” she continued. “But I’m going to show you some tricks to help tame it. And the first thing? Don’t wash it every day.”

  I have to say, as someone whose mom owns a salon and sells a lot of product, that was a shocking thing to hear. Plus it seemed so dirty. What if my hair smelled?

  “You don’t want too much product on this kind of hair. Don’t over-condition it, either. A little bit of relaxer is fine, but not too much.”

  Soon, Devon got to styling. I could feel that my hair had been trimmed, but it still hung long down my back. She mentioned that normally, split ends can also cause hair to frizz and that we should make sure we get a cut—at least a little trim—every six weeks to prevent split ends.

  “Heat is its enemy, so it’s important to towel dry the hair as much as possible before turning on the dryer. And it helps to think of the dryer as an iron gliding over the brush, which is like the ironing board.”

  “Now if you’re asking me,” Devon said, fanning my hair over my shoulders, “nothing else is needed. Doesn’t she look gorgeous?” And to my surprise (and a little bit of embarrassment), everyone started clapping for me and my hair! Okay, they were probably clapping mostly for Devon’s apparent wizardry, but it still felt good.

  “If you want a little extra something,” Devon said to me—and the audience, “we can accessorize as well. This will look adorable, I think.” She took a pink, green, and white silk headband and tied it around my head. “You can fold thick headbands like this in half. That way, when you tie it at your neck it isn’t so bulky. Also, to really keep it in place, you can add some bobby pins on the top and slide them under the first fold so they can’t be seen. Voilà!”

  When she was finally done, she spun me around to face the mirror and I couldn’t believe what I saw: some girl with soft waves perfectly framing her face. My bangs lay gracefully across my forehead and made my eyes pop in a way I wouldn’t have thought imaginable, and the back had a little bit more bounce to it.

  I reached up to touch the hair to make sure it was really mine. It was. I couldn’t believe it.

  Mom stepped up to address the crowd and said, “Now I’m ashamed I never did this for my poor daughter myself. What’s that they say about the shoemaker’s children having holes in their shoes? Thank you, Devon!” Mom announced that Devon was currently taking new clients, and a rush of people went up to Megan’s desk to schedule appointments.

  “Mickey, your hair looks amazing!” Kristen said as she ran over to hug me.

  Lizbeth followed her. “You were always gorgeous, but now your hair is killer,” she said.

  “Thanks, guys.” I felt self-conscious about it, but still . . . I liked it. “Your hair looks really good, too. Both of you.”

  “Thanks,” Lizbeth said. “Piper did an amazing job. But now if she’s ever booked and I have a style emergency, I know I can go with Devon.”

  “You should,” I said. “She’s great. Obviously.”

  The photographer snapped a picture of me talking to the girls, and then she asked if she could get a shot of me and Devon. Once it was all done and the chairs had been put away, I finally had a chance to talk to Devon on my own. “Thanks, Devon. I love my hair. It looks amazing. And I’m so sorry for ever telling anyone you balded someone. Because you’re a great stylist.”

  She smiled. “Thanks, Mickey. Make sure you tell your Mom that, too, okay?”

  I put my smock back on, ready to finish out my day in the same old clothes but with gorgeous, flowing, bouncy hair. Mom was up front putting out some new products on the shelves—they’d sold a bunch when Devon made some recommendations. I stood next to her and said, “Well, what do you think?”

  She put her hands on both my shoulders, turning me so that I faced her squarely. “I think you look gorgeous. But I’ve always thought you looked gorgeous. Did you really think your hair was so bad?”

  I shrugged. “It’s just that, your hair is perfect and straight and Dad’s is perfect and wavy, and mine is this in-between mess that never looks right. I think it looks good today. And as soon as Devon sits me in front of a mirror and shows me how, I can probably make it look good tomorrow, too.”

  Mom smiled. And then, she did something she’s never do
ne in the salon before. She pulled me in for a hug. I wrapped my arms around her waist and she kissed my head. I didn’t even worry about being embarrassed in front of Lizbeth and Kristen.

  “Now get back to work,” she said, patting me on the head.

  Jonah and Eve stood in the lounge with Lizbeth and Kristen, who were about to leave with their moms. They both looked so beautiful all glammed up and ready for a great night at the country club.

  “Have fun tonight!” I said to Lizbeth and Kristen.

  “Thanks!” Kristen said. “And thanks for everything you did for us, Mickey.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said, even though I didn’t do anything but put things back the way they were supposed to be.

  “Hey, we’ll see you at school on Monday, right?” Lizbeth asked. “You’ll sit with us at lunch?”

  “Yeah,” Kristen said. “You totally should. You, too, Eve. I don’t know if you want to, Jonah, but you’re welcome.”

  Jonah muttered something—he was probably in shock from being around so many girls—so Eve said, “No, Monday it’s girls only. Maybe Tuesday. That cool, Goldman? Bring your friend Kyle.”

  Jonah’s face turned a shade of red I hadn’t seen since we had breath-holding contests as kids. He said something about “hanging with the boys” on Monday. “Well, have fun tonight,” I said to Lizbeth and Kristen. “I want details on Monday!”

  They laughed and said good-bye, and I hoped it meant we were all back on the road to becoming actual, real-life friends. “You really do look great, Mickey,” Eve said. “But I’ve always been jealous of your hair.”

  “What? My hair? I’d kill to have your hair!” I told her.

  “Mine? But it’s just stick straight and blah. I wish I had volume like you do.”

  “Eve, that’s probably the craziest thing I’ve heard all day,” I said, and she laughed.

  “Yeah, super crazy, Eve,” Jonah said. “You look great . . . You’re hot.”

  I had to replay that moment in my head before I could believe it actually happened. Did Jonah just say something nice to a girl? I could tell he had trouble believing it himself by the way he almost choked back that last word. Once everyone recovered from the shock he said, “Why don’t you two just dig the hair you have? You both look good, okay? Now can I go? I think I’m starting to get hives from being here so long.”

  I wanted to come back to him with a crack about calling Eve pretty, but I couldn’t do that when he had come there especially to see me.

  “Why did you come, anyway, Jonah?” I asked. “I mean, don’t get me wrong—I appreciate the support.”

  “She tricked me into it,” he said, pointing at Eve.

  “False,” Eve said. “He was already on his way here when I ran into him.”

  “Well, I’m glad you came, Jonah,” I said. “I know there’s a million things you’d rather be doing.”

  He shrugged. “No biggie.”

  Once everyone had gone, I thought about how glad I was about the way things were going. I was so happy to finally have some new friends, but I was also aware of how lucky I was to have Jonah. Maybe I wasn’t as into playing Warpath of Doom as I used to be, but he had always put up with my girly stuff, so I was happy to put up with his boy stuff.

  For now, the most important thing was to learn to keep my mouth shut, to resist the urge to steal anything no matter how tiny, and to feel gorgeous—inside and out.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Taylor Morris is the author of several books including Class Favorite and Total Knockout, and her short stories and articles have appeared in Girls’ Life magazine. She graduated from Emerson College in Boston, MA, and currently lives in New York City with her orchestra conductor husband. She does not get her hair cut in a fancy salon like Hello, Gorgeous! but she loves hearing from her readers about their latest hairstyles and favorite names for both real and imaginary nail polish colors. Visit her at www.taylormorris.com and tell her your favorites!