dos and Don'ts

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dos and Don'ts Page 5

by Taylor Morris


  “Girls,” Ms. Carter said from across the room. She’d been roaming around answering questions, helping students out, and forcing them to focus when they tried to go on sports or celebrity Web sites for fun. “Stay at your own stations, please.”

  Kristen and Lizbeth came back to our station, plopping into their chairs.

  “How perfect is that?” Kristen asked. “Maybe we could have a hairstyle and then say something like, ‘For the perfect outfit to go with this style, see the Fashion Fixin’ blog for ideas.’”

  “Fashion Fixin’?” I asked.

  “Like fashion victim, but a play on that,” Lizbeth said. “You know, like fixing the victim’s style.”

  “Yeah, I get it,” I said. Maybe partnering with someone else’s site was a good idea. Mom once told me how important it was to surround yourself with talented people. But would it be worth it to partner with Cara just to further my own project? I couldn’t stop thinking about the things she’d said earlier about Hello Gorgeous!. Did she and her mom really want nothing to do with my mom’s salon? If so, then why was she was open to linking her project to mine? My head was spinning and it was only first period. No wonder Mom got so stressed all the time—being a businesswoman was tough.

  By the time homeroom was over, DIY Do’s had officially launched. Glitter graphics rained down the side of the site, colors flashed, and soon style would reign. As the other students filed out of the classroom, I sat back for a moment thinking, This just might be the start of my beautiful career.

  CHAPTER 8

  Later, Kyle found me in the hall after the last bell. “Mind if I walk with you?”

  “Nope,” I said. Any extra moments with Kyle were good ones. I wondered if he’d try to kiss me again. Or if I’d just go ahead and kiss him myself. “I’m on my way to work. That okay?”

  “Sure,” he said. “You’re worth the extra mile out of my way.”

  “Awww,” I teased, but I tried to hide my blush.

  “Here, let me carry your books,” he said.

  “Wait, what century is this?”

  He smiled, keeping his eyes down. A curl fell across his forehead—it was time for a cut. Or maybe not. A little bit long and his hair looked perfect. Feeling bold, I reached up and pushed it back off his face. “Growing it out?”

  “Maybe,” he said. “Now give me your bag.”

  I handed over my backpack and he hitched it up on his shoulder.

  “Looked like you guys were really into your project,” he said as we walked out of school.

  “So into it,” I said. “I can’t wait to get to work and maybe brainstorm with the stylists. What are you and Jonah doing, anyway?”

  “Some skateboarding thing,” he said. There was a clear lack of enthusiasm in his voice.

  “Why do you say it like that?” I asked. “You love skateboarding.”

  “Yes, I love skateboarding,” he said. “But not online. I’m not sure what we’re going to do, even.”

  “Do what we did. Go to skateboarding Web sites and see how it’s done. Then you’ll start getting your own ideas.”

  “Hmm, that might work,” he said. “I’d still rather be skating and trying new moves than surfing online, though.”

  “Maybe you should think about trying to work in a skate shop, like a short-term intern or something,” I said. “Then you could get ideas from the guys in the shop like I do when I work at the salon. It’s so helpful to be, like, fully immersed in the thing you love.”

  “Humph,” he said. “I guess.”

  I had even more ideas for him, but one look at his face told me school was the last thing he wanted to talk about.

  We were nearing Camden Way, the main street in town and where Hello, Gorgeous! is located along with lots of other high-end shops.

  Kyle reached over and took my hand in his. I always tried to act cool when this happened and to not let my face spring into blushing, giddy smiles. It was hard, though, because I liked it soooo much. I gently squeezed his hand back.

  When we got to the salon I started to think about that kiss again, the one I wondered if he would give me, or I would give him. Then I hoped he didn’t try to kiss me because I suddenly realized everyone could see through the front windows of the salon.

  “Thanks for walking me,” I said as we paused just outside the door.

  He handed my bag over to me. “Thanks for letting me. I’ll be at Jonah’s later working on the project if you want to stop by.”

  “Okay,” I said, hoping he’d still be there when I got home.

  He tilted his head slightly, his green eyes looking from mine to my lips. He gave me a little smile, then said, in almost a whisper, “See you later.”

  “Bye,” I said. I watched him turn down the sidewalk back the way we’d come. Then I pushed open the door, ready to get to work.

  As soon as I was inside, I saw Megan leaning on the reception desk, chin in her hand, in what could only be described as a very comfortable-looking position with a front-row view of the the street outside.

  “Hi there, Mickey,” she said.

  “Hi, Megan,” I said as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

  “How are you, Mickey?” she said with that same smile on her face. Megan wasn’t one to tease, but I guess in this instance I was an easy target. I was starting to think she’d been around Giancarlo too long. Teasing was his gig. I needed to divert her attention, and fast.

  “Could you look something up for me?” I asked. “Could you tell me if Mrs. Fredericks has an appointment with Violet coming up anytime soon?” Cara’s comment from earlier was still bothering me, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it.

  “Let me check,” Megan said, typing on the computer. “Nope. Don’t see anything. Why? Did you see her or something?”

  “No. It was just something Cara said. Never mind,” I said. “Is my mom around?”

  “In her office.”

  I walked back toward Mom’s office, waving hello to Giancarlo as I passed. He was cutting a woman’s hair but the only thing I noticed about her was her five-inch black heels with spiky silver studs on the heels. Yikes!

  “Nice walk from school?” he asked, pushing his new red glasses up on his nose.

  Ugh. See what I mean? I politely ignored him, which only egged him on more. “Thought so,” he said, smiling. I tried not to think of who else had been watching me and Kyle say good-bye outside the door. Thank goodness Kyle hadn’t gone in for the kiss!

  I stuck my head into Mom’s office.

  “And don’t forget to confirm with Scott. He’s that student videographer from the college that I’m always worried is going to forget to show,” Mom was saying to Violet.

  “You got it,” Violet said. She saw me in the doorway and waved hello.

  “Hi,” I said.

  Mom barely glanced up. “Hello, Mickey. Did you get that new shampoo I asked about?”

  “Um, I…,” I began, trying to remember her asking me such a question.

  “Yes, I got it,” Violet answered. “It’s all stocked on the shelves in the back.”

  “Just make sure to keep an eye on the levels. We don’t want to run out and have to use the old brand.”

  “You got it,” Violet said again, writing it down on the notepad she held.

  I hung around waiting for a break in their conversation so I could talk to Mom about my project some more. Here I had this great mind before me, full of information about how to market hairstyles and be the best, and I needed to crack into it. Finally, she turned to me and said, “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding my head. “I was just, um, going to tell you about school. And the project. We’ve got some great ideas.”

  “I’m sorry, Mickey—can we do that tonight at dinner?” she asked. “I just have a lot going on here.”

  “Yeah, sure. We’ll talk tonight.”

  I backed out of her office slowly just in case she wanted to stop me and talk after all. She didn’t. Instead
she said, “Mickey, tell Giancarlo that I had Megan book Christine Willis with him next week while I’m out of town. We rescheduled Shannon Adams to accommodate her. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said, and sighed. Mom being too busy to talk style (or school) was a first. I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

  As I tied on my Hello, Gorgeous! apron, a text pinged through from Kyle.

  Thanks for the idea of looking at other skate sites. We’re rollin’ now.

  I loved knowing I’d been helpful. As I walked back to the front I texted him back. Then I put my phone on vibrate, dropped it in my apron pocket, and grabbed the broom.

  “Giancarlo,” I said, stepping over to his station, where he was still styling the woman with the spiky heels. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “Never a problem,” he said, not stopping his work for a second.

  “Mom wanted me to tell you that she booked Christine Willis with you and rescheduled Shannon Adams.”

  Giancarlo sighed loudly. “That mother of yours is on a rampage getting ready to leave for her trip. I swear,” he said, “you’d think she doesn’t trust us here without her, she’s going over every detail so carefully.”

  “That’s how Mom is,” I said. “Overly cautious with the salon. But in a good way,” I added quickly, worried that I was making her sound bad in front of a client.

  For the rest of the evening Mom rushed from her office to her station, working on clients, securing deliveries, and making sure all the stylists were properly scheduled. My phone buzzed in my pocket as Kyle and I texted back and forth. For once I was a little anxious to leave work and get home—both to get Mom’s undivided attention and to see if Kyle was still at Jonah’s.

  Dad picked me up from the salon on his way home from work—Mom said she needed just a couple of extra minutes at the salon before coming home. “You go on with Dad and get started on your homework,” she said. “I’ll be home for dinner.”

  “Well I was wondering if you could sort of help me with my homework,” I said to her. Weren’t those words music to any parent’s ears?

  Mom was back at her station working on a client, and I could tell she was trying not to dart her eyes at the clock, no doubt seeing how much time she had left to get all the things she needed to do done.

  “I’m sure Dad would love to help you,” she said. “Pam, do you want to go a little shorter with your bangs this time?”

  I tried not to feel ignored as I went to the back to put away my apron and get my bag. It wasn’t fair to try to get her attention at work. Still, she was always getting on me about trying harder at school and doing better on projects, so why was she choosing now to ignore me, when I was asking for her help? Couldn’t she see how excited I was?

  CHAPTER 9

  At home, I stood at my bedroom window with my light off, looking across the backyard into Jonah’s house. I saw him and Kyle in Jonah’s family room. Kyle was writing in a notebook while I fully and completely stalked him.

  Are you sure you want to write that?

  I watched as he kept writing while Jonah clicked through the laptop he had set up on the ottoman. When Kyle turned his attention to his phone, I knew he got my text.

  He smiled as he read it, looking out the window toward my house.

  Come over.

  “Mickey!” Dad called from downstairs. “Dinner!”

  Dinner. TTYL.

  Lame.

  “I still have two whole pages of things to do,” Mom said as I walked into the kitchen. Dad was at the stove stirring a sauce. I leaned over the kitchen island to get a better look—penne pasta and Dad’s own tomato sauce. Yum! “I’m not really sure the benefits of going on this trip will outweigh my leaving the salon.” She dropped her head in her hands. “Maybe I should cancel.”

  “It’s going to be fine,” Dad told her as he spooned pasta onto a plate, then topped it with sauce. He handed it to me across the island and nodded for me to pass it to Mom. When I set the plate in front of her, she just stared at it. I picked up a spoon and doled out some fresh Parmigiano-Reggiano on the top.

  “Yeah, Mom,” I said. “You’ll see.”

  “Maybe,” she said, barely looking up.

  Dad ushered us over to the table and set a plate of pasta in front of me. When he sat down, he turned to me and said, “How’s that project you mentioned going? Got a whole Web site yet with a million followers?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “But we’ve worked out the concepts and stuff and officially have the site set up. Did I tell you the name? It’s Do It Yourself Do’s!” Dad nodded and took a bite of pasta. Mom absently moved her fork to her mouth while staring at the list beside her. A piece of penne fell onto the table before it reached her mouth, but she didn’t notice. “You, like, do it yourself,” I continued, “since we’re doing easy styles that anyone can do.”

  “That’s great, Mickey!” Dad said. “And since you work with the east coast’s biggest experts, there’s no way you can fail.”

  I loved Dad’s enthusiasm, but Mom clearly wasn’t joining in on the conversation. She was totally and completely distracted—at least from dinner and me and Dad. She was so focused on her list, she even tried to write something on it with her fork before realizing and reaching for a pen.

  “Can I show you what it looks like?” I asked. “We’ve got it all set up and everything.”

  “Sure,” Dad said. “We’d love to see it.”

  I ran to Mom’s office and got the laptop, then quickly brought up our page as I set the computer on the table. Mom finally turned her attention to it.

  “So this is what it looks like,” I said, feeling nervous about what they’d say—especially Mom. “We don’t have a lot so far because we’re just getting started, working out the kinks and stuff. And these are just some of the sections we have so far.” I pointed to the side of the Web page. “So, Lizbeth is creating some really cool and easy do-it-yourself hair accessories. I’m helping to solve hair problems and Eve is posting easy styles you can wear to school. We’re still working out some other stuff, too,” I added, thinking about Kristen and what she would do. “What do you think?”

  “I think it looks fantastic,” Dad said. Even though I expected him to say something like that, it still made me feel proud. Then I turned to Mom. She was still looking at the blog, and closely.

  “Well,” she finally said. “Mickey, it looks pretty good. Very energetic. It looks like you have lots of good content there—or you will, once it’s all filled out. It takes time, though, to build up some copy. Great start.”

  “Thanks,” I said, absolutely bursting with pride. “If you have any ideas for other stuff we can add, just let me know, okay? Any other advice or anything.”

  She winked at me. “You got it.” Still, I could see the weariness in her eyes, which immediately turned back down to her to-do list.

  “Is there anything at the salon I can help with?” I asked her. “Like, anything with inventory, scheduling, or something?” I didn’t exactly work on high-level stuff there (hello, floor!) but if there was something I could do to ease her stress I wanted to help.

  “No. Thanks, though,” she said, letting out a deep sigh and taking another small bite of her dinner.

  “So what else about this blog?” Dad said. “It looks great, but what’s going to make it the absolute best in your class, aside from it being run by an expert? Chloe, how about showing Mick some of your secrets to success and how to get started?”

  I knew what he was doing. He could see how distracted Mom was and how much I wanted her attention, so he was trying to make up for it. I appreciated that, but the truth was I didn’t want to bother Mom with it—even if she wasn’t paying attention.

  “No, it’s okay,” I said when Mom glanced up and looked blankly at us. “Um, our teacher said we should really do it on our own. I mean, I’ll still get the okay from stylists on any advice we give,” I assured Mom. “But the rest we should do on our own. I want to do it on my own.”

  �
�Smart girl,” Mom said. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in business, it’s that if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

  I managed a smile. She was right. I could figure it out myself—with the help of my teammates, that is.

  Upstairs in my room after dinner—after peeking out my window to see if the boys were still next door, which they weren’t—I checked the e-mail connected to DIY Do’s to see if we had any visitors. My breath caught when I saw that we did.

  Our first question!

  I got out my phone to call the girls. Even though I planned to conference all three of them in, I paused briefly, wondering who I should call first. I decided on Lizbeth.

  “Did you see?” was how she answered after the first ring.

  “I know! That’s why I’m calling! We have to get Kristen and Eve on the line, too. We should all answer the first question together.”

  “Absolutely,” Lizbeth said.

  Once we were all on the line, I read the question out loud, even though everyone was on the computer, too.

  “Okay, here it is. Our very first question,” I said. “‘My bangs were getting kind of long but my mom said I couldn’t go to the salon until next month so I decided to do a little trim on them myself. Big mistake. I cut them on my own and now they’re lopsided. Help! Should I keep cutting, maybe using a ruler or something, to even them out? What should I do? Thanks, DIY girls! See you at school!’ Okay, guys, any ideas? I think she should definitely stop cutting.”

  “Agreed,” Lizbeth said. “Step away from the scissors, girl.”

  “Totally,” Kristen said. “She’ll only make it worse.”

  “So she stops cutting,” Eve said, “but how does she fix them until they grow out?”

  “Good question,” Lizbeth said.

  We thought on it for a minute. I’d never had bangs—my hair was too wild and curly for them—so I wasn’t sure what the girl could do. I pretended like I was a professional stylist and this girl was sitting in my salon chair. How would I help her?

 

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