“That’s so…. Exciting Kait, good for you,” Jennifer says in an unimpressed and uninterested tone. We’d been best friends since before high school, but now that we’ve gone our separate ways in the wake of college, I’ve seen how unsupportive she really is. I had just finished telling her about the tickets I’d bought to Melanie Nguyen’s show, which is much later tonight. Fancy recitals had never been Jennifer’s “thing”—as she often so eloquently put it—and so I nearly always had to go alone, no matter who was playing or singing. I put my hand over the microphone in my cell and let out a quiet little sigh of disappointment,
“Yea, I know that Melanie Nguyen isn’t your favorite artist. Do you ...view middle of the document...
I study the somewhat-tan, heart-shaped face looking back at me; my slightly almond-shaped eyes are a dark hazel color with little flecks of gold, and my wavy strawberry blonde hair falls in a frizzy knot upon my shoulders. I try to twist it up in a bun at the nape of my neck, but that doesn’t work. So with keys in hand, I walk to my car and hope that someone can fix this mess.
The small bell above the door rings as I grudgingly enter the salon. My regular hair dresser, Marissa, greets me with a bright smile,
“How may I help you—” she asked, but before she even finished her sentence she sees my atrocious hair and smiles knowingly, “Well, that’s nothing a little conditioner can’t fix!” I smile shyly and walk over to Marissa’s station.
As she works the aromatic conditioner through my wet hair, Marissa asks, “So, how would you like me to style your hair? Do you need to impress anyone?”
“No,” I say, even as Xavier enters my mind, “I think I’d just like some soft romantic curls, nothing special.” I smile ever so slightly.
I imagine her face as I say this, probably a little frown, since Marissa doesn’t like doing “nothing special.” As we walk from the sink to the chair my sopping wet hair clings to my face, and as soon as I sit down she begins to work, drying, cutting and styling.
An hour later I’m sitting in my bedroom again, soft golden curls falling around my shoulders. I have my dress laid out on my bed along with its accessories. It’s a lovely cream color with a lightly jeweled v-neckline and I have the shoes to match. Surprisingly enough I decided to wear contacts instead of my nerdy glasses. I don’t normally wear contacts, especially colored ones, but I’m going to a Melanie Nguyen recital, how could I not? Wearing red contacts is Melanie’s look, and even though she’s in the classical genre, it works for her.
I take out my cell to check the time and I get the sudden urge to call Xavier. I roll my eyes at myself, for surely he wouldn’t want to go. I dial his number anyway.
“Hello?” comes a soft but strong voice from the other end.
“Hey, Xavier, it’s Kait,” I say, a little shyly.
“Hey, Kait,” He sounds happy to hear from me, “what’s up?”
“Oh, I was just wondering if you’d like to go to a recital with me, Melanie Nguyen’s playing. I bought two tickets, but Jennifer can’t come…” I ask hesitantly.
“Kait,” he says after a pause, “I’d really like to but I can’t. Maybe next time, sorry.”
“It’s alright, I understand. I’ll see you at school then, bye.”
“Bye, Kait.” Click.
I look at my phone for a minute before setting it on my bedside table. That was sure a let-down. Oh well, I guess that’s what I expected.
I fiddle with the end of one of my curls as I switch on the television that’s at the foot of my bed, I still have quite a lot of time to kill before I should start getting ready.
Five hours later I’m almost to the Recital Hall, alone as usual. I pull into the annoyingly small parking lot in the back of the Hall and walk...