4 | Milly

                                    

                                          

Part Five:
A Little Transformation
Taking one long, hard look at myself in the mirror of the hair salon I cringed. Instantly I wanted to book it the hell out of there and hide myself from the entire world, especially Trevor. He had dropped me off at the local salon before leaving me to my own devices, pushing me forward and skipping off without so much as saying goodbye. 
He hadn't told me what they were doing to my hair, only that it would take about an hour to complete. I was still in my school uniform and to be honest, my bare legs were pretty freaking cold right about now. 
I chanced another glance at my strikingly lit face, the reflection I was seeing not one I'd wish upon any poor bystander. My features were catastrophically plain, my eyes the dullest of grey and my skin a plain old pale. I wasn't blessed with olive skin like Trevor, and to this day I curse my unfortunate genes. My jet black hair was wet from being washed under the basin, leaving it flat to my skull and slicked back from my face. 
I was suddenly wondering if I should pluck my eyebrows more often. 
As the hairdresser returned with nothing but a blow dry and flat iron, I began to feel relief as it coursed through my veins, finally calming my raging heart. The moment she had pulled out a pot of hair colour and a brush a mere thirty minutes ago, I had almost gone into cardiac arrest. Never once had I coloured my hair, never once had I thought about it.
But here I was. Sitting in the uncomfortable salon chair as I waited for this woman to finally dry my locks and return my face to its usual, average appearance. I was honestly relieved that Trevor had left to go God knows where. I would have hated for him to have to experience my face in such a horrifying way. It's better for everyone that my current appearance stays between myself and the woman with the blow dryer. 
I hummed blissfully at the sudden warmth the styling tool offered, closing my eyes to enjoy just a moment of relaxation before remembering the reason why I was in this chair, and snapping them back open again. 
Feeling a little lost, I recalled how I had literally no idea what Trevor had planned for my hair. I hope they didn't cut it. I quite liked the length it already was. It was long and hardly tameable, sure, but it was comforting—safe. 
A full further half an hour later, after being told to close my eyes so I couldn't see what was happening for the duration of my appointment, I was finally turned back towards my reflection, though, the hair dresser was still covering my face with the back-side of a hand-hell mirror. I couldn't see a thing, however, I could most certainly hear, and the moment the obnoxiously loud exclamation of: "Hey, pretty lady!" drifted through my ears, I knew my haircut companion was back.
He crouched down by my side, a cheeky grin plastered on his lips and a large takeaway coffee cup in his hand. I could have almost swooned at the sight of him with his lip between his teeth like that, his Bauer Hockey cap backwards on his head, but I quickly recovered with the knowledge that the boy beside me was Trevor Zegras and to be quite frank, a total twerp. 
"Coffee?" he asked sweetly, his voice barely a husky whisper as I glanced to my left to face him. "Also, why is there a towel on your head?"
I furrowed my brows, scrunching my nose up in a way that had Trevor's eyes skimming to my middle facial feature with curiosity. "A what?" I asked, reaching for my head. "I don't have a—oh."
He chuckled lightly, reaching out to hand me the paper cup before stretching his legs and standing up at his full height once more. 
"So?" he asked, looking right at the hairdresser, who was waiting impatiently behind the two of us, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. "You gonna show us the final product?"