bad influence 》h.g.

Thirty Two || Granite Grey

Friday, June 10th 2017

I decided I wasn't going to dress how I was expected to for this party. Nah, instead I was gonna do me. I was gonna go in clothes that I would normally wear, not a glamorous dress and heels. Don't get me wrong, it's all fun and games playing dress up, and I can't deny I feel pretty good about myself when I wear sexy dresses and platform heels, but they weren't me. It was all part of a facade to maintain the reputation that deemed me as an acceptable girlfriend for the Jack Gilinksy. Tonight, at Shawn's party I was gonna be comfortable, confident and, most importantly, me.

So, that's why I decided to go to the mall straight after school, and have my hair chopped to just above my shoulder blades. I didn't care what anyone thought, I was going to look the way I had always wanted to, not the way my preppy boyfriend wanted me to. I chose to be extra spontaneous and bought a little $4 tub of granite grey hair dye on my way home. Only God knew how it would turn out but I felt fearless, empowered. I would make whatever the outcome would be work. I'd make it my own.

I got home at 5:30p.m. (ish) and ran up the stairs, yelling a "hello" to my mom, too excited to embrace my true identity to greet her properly. I grabbed a bunch of black towels and laid them across all the surfaces of the bathroom that I would be murdered for if I got dye on them. I changed into an old, scruffy tee, rubbed Vaseline all around my neck and ears to prevent staining, then sectioned my hair into different layers. I combined the ingredients of the dye and stared at the dark grey mixture, letting out a deep breath before putting on the gloves, grabbing a section of the remaining blonde in my hair and lathering on the concoction before I had time to think twice.

I'd been so reserved and restrained from doing all the things I'd truly wanted to my whole life, that I couldn't help but let out a joyous laugh fuelled from sheer exhilaration. My hair was my canvas and I painted to my heart's content, smiling the whole time. I didn't give a fuck if my hair turn bright green, I was just doing something so independent for once in my life and it felt amazing.

I finished coating my hair in the graphite-coloured dye and secured it all atop of my head with a crocodile clip. While I waited for it to develop, I tidied away the towels and inspected every white surface for even the slightest speck of dye that my mother would instantly notice. To my surprise, I found nothing. I threw the empty box and used gloves into the bin and headed into my room to pick out my outfit. I already knew what I wanted to wear, but finding all the components of the fit in tact was the challenge. I rummaged through my underwear drawer and found my black fishnet tights, and chunky black belt with the thick gold buckle. I threw them onto my bed while I searched through my closet for my sunshine yellow, long-sleeved crop top. It had a slightly raised collar, like a turtleneck but half the length. Then, way at the back of the top shelf of my wardrobe, I located my blue mom jeans which had a little rip in one of the knees. I laid my outfit out on my bed before returning to the bathroom to hop into the shower.

I watched as the grey water streamed from my hair and puddled around my toes and bit my lip anxiously. Please go right, please don't fuck up.

I refrained from looking in the mirror when I stepped out of the shower and simply wrapped my soaking, possibly annihilated new hair in a towel turban. I decided I would wait until after I'd finished my makeup to look at the result.

I kept my makeup fairly simple: light contour, defined brows, eyeliner and delicate false lashes just for a little extra volume. After all, tonight was about me being me- but a little bomb blending wouldn't hurt, right?

By 7:15, all I had left to do was style my hair. With a deep breath, I whipped off the towel and my hair fell around my face. The moisture made it darker and so I couldn't tell how well the colour had developed. I sighed and combed through it with my fingers, detangling it before I blowdried it. I didn't look at my reflection the whole time I did it, and I was glad I didn't. It would've totally killed the surprise. It looked fucking awesome. The colour was so different, and for the first time, I felt like I was really looking back at me, not Ava Rose the mommy's girl, or Ava Rose the hottest jock in school's girlfriend. It was about 7:45 by the time I'd finished drying my hair and so I needed to think quickly about how I was gonna style it. Then, the perfect idea came to me.

I grabbed my curling wand and very lightly curled the lengths, creating soft, beachy waves. Then, I twisted the top section into a loose, delicate bun at the back of my head and secured it in place with about 512 bobby pins.

I hairsprayed the shit out of my new weave and then carefully got dressed, taking extra care not to mess up my hair while simultaneously preventing foundation from getting on my bright yellow shirt. I went all out "indie" and it worked. After rolling up the bottoms of my jeans, I slipped on a pair of white skate socks, with two black stripes at the ankle, over my tights, just for comfort. Finally, I pulled on my black Converse high tops, finishing the look by wrapping the laces around my ankles once before tying them.

Eventually, by 8:30p.m. I was completely ready, and had a whole hour and a half to wait for Hayes to pick me up. I really needed to learn good timing, my hair would probably be flat and my makeup sweating off before he even pulled up. I decided to use my spare time to go find my mom who I hadn't heard from since I'd gotten home. I called out for her but there was no response and I figured maybe she'd gone out. Sienna and Cam both left on Wednesday to return to work so I knew she wasn't with them. I was about to go plop down onto the sofa to watch some TV when I found her there, laying peacefully on the couch, sound asleep. She still had her reading glasses on, a book laid across her chest, with the pages slightly crumpled as they rested at an awkward angle. I sighed and quietly tiptoed over, gently taking off her glasses and putting her book on the coffee table. I grabbed the throw from the back of the sofa and tenderly placed it over her to make sure she wouldn't get cold. Then, I kissed her forehead and left the room.

I went and sat in the kitchen, and flicked through my phone for something interesting to read or watch, finding nothing. Then, bright lights lit up the room through the front window and I saw a car pull up in my driveway, with a familiar face sat in the driver's seat.

But it wasn't Hayes.