But wouldn’t you know my luck? Blythe is all too willing to pick up the slack, because she carries on with the Ali-bashing as she brushes the barest tips of her fingers over a section of my red locks. “The makeup isn’t terrible, but, sweetie, the hair color isn’t…natural.”
Derek actually laughs. “The last I checked, neither is yours. Unless you really did manage to scare the pigment back into your grays.”
If glares could kill…
Only the occupants of this house and our stepmom’s hairdresser are privy to the fact that she’s graying prematurely, and the fact Derek’s just made Maggie aware of this little tidbit doesnotbode well for anyone involved.
“She means the color doesn’tlooknatural,” Vanessa chides. “You can tell it’s dyed.”
Maggie gasps in mock horror. “Whaaaat? You mean peoplearen’tborn with black cherry hair with wine undertones?”
Technically, my sisterissmiling, but it looks more like she’s baring her teeth as she turns to address my roommate. “It screams that you want attention. Some people find that tacky.”
“And some people don’t have silver spoons shoved up their asses, so they don’t care,” Maggie says sweetly, even adding in an eyelash bat.
“I just wanted to try something new,” I say lamely, hoping against hope that it’ll defuse some of the tension.
As per usual, my voice has apparently fallen victim to an invisible MUTE button, because it’s as if no one hears me over my sister’s scoff.
“Well, at least we know now why Ali didn’t come home for winter break.”
It takes far too great an effort not to roll my eyes and bite out the words threatening to spill from my mouth.
No, Vanessa. I didn’t come ‘home’ this last Christmas, because I’d rather stab an ice pick into my ear, stick a paperclip into an electrical outlet, and be chased by a horde of ravenous cannibals than be trapped alone here in this hellhole with you bitching at me for an entire month!
My father went to London on business from late November to mid-January, and our stepmom accompanied him. So, with my brother on vacation with his girlfriend (now fiancée), it meant that Vanessa would be the only person home for the holidays. Well, that’s not quite accurate. She informed me that her new boyfriend would also be staying at the house. Blythe and Dad weren’t aware of the arrangement, and it was implied perfectly well that they would never find out…or else. Since I didn’t feel like spending four weeks wanting to strangle myself with Christmas lights while having to listen to Vanessa and her latest victim going at it all night long, I opted out and stayed with Maggie, all too happy to sleep on the living room couch.
“This is why I told you Alishould have joined a sorority. They keep you out of thiskind of trouble,” my sister oh-so-helpfully says to Blythe.
Maggie doesn’t even try to hold back her eye roll. “I’m sorry, but have youbeento a sorority party? A little makeup and some hair dye is the least of your ‘troubles,’ honey.”
Blythe ignores the remark—or rather continues ignoring Maggie altogether—and grabs my arms, looking them over as she scrolls through the contacts on her phone with her free hand. “Please don’t tell me you have any tattoos.”
“Not anywhere you can see,” Derek chuckles. He immediately throws up his hands to placate our stepmom, who is now piercing him with a less-than-amused glare. “I’m kidding.”
“What about the party?” Vanessa all but groans. “It starts in six hours. Youcannotlet her go looking like that.”
Can you sayouch?
Blythe scrolls through the contacts on her phone, and before another barb can be issued, she presses the cell to her ear. A beat later, we can all hear,“Georgio Angelair Salon, how can we help you?”
“Yes, this is Blythe Sharpe. I know it’s short notice, but I was wondering if you could squeeze me in this afternoon. Everett’s daughter is having a bit of a hair emergency—”
I instantly shrink back behind Derek as Maggie practically hugs my head in utter horror.
“Seriously?” Cutting her off mid-sentence, my brother plucks the cell right out of our stepmom’s hand and hangs up the call. “I think she looks great, and it’smyparty. If Ali shows up tonight with a hair color different than the one currently on her head, I’m leaving.”
“Derek—” Blythe doesn’t even get the chance to protest, because his answering smile says everything.
I dare you.
A whopping five seconds of relief settles over me…until I truly process my sister’s and brother’s last statements. “I’msorry, but I think I’m missing something here,” I whisper, as if that’ll cushion the blow. “When you say, ‘party,’ you’re talking about…?”
“Derek’sengagementparty,” Vanessa drawls slowly, like I’m an idiot.
Maybe I am, because the last I checked, that wasn’t supposed to be for another couple of weeks.
My face must say enough, because Derek’s smile morphs into something truly rare.
