Violet Reimagined (FIRST DRAFT)

Curly Hair

I felt her hands going through my hair, combing it with her fingers, giving me goosebumps. My hair hadn't been touched by anyone in a long time, let alone braided, but still I entertained Jacqueline's interest in my hair.

"Do you get a lot of compliments on your hair?" she asked, separating my hair in equal parts (or at least that's what it felt like).

"Not really," I told her. "I do get some from a few teachers or my parents' friends, but not from anyone my age. I actually used to be teased with the 'gingers have no souls' thing. It never bothered me much anyway, but what can you do?"

"That's awful. I wish I had hair like yours; so straight and long and vibrant. My hair looked like a super-permed poodle had it's fur blown out." I stifled a laugh. It kind of did look like that. Good thing she laughed too, otherwise I would have felt evil for laughing.

"But I like your hair better,' I told her. "You have texture. People would kill to have naturally curly hair."

"It's not as nice as it looks, trust me. This mess takes several hours to complete. I wish it was easier to manage." We sat in silence as she braided my hair, but she spoke once again soon after. "I like your eye color, too. Green; it's so rare and pretty. I have poopy-colored eyes."

"Don't say that," I told her, turning around to look up at her. "I think your eyes are very pretty.They're warm, you know?" This conversation was getting weirder and weirder. Jacqueline Bailey, one of the most beautiful girls--nay, the most beautiful girl--at Hesperian High, was envious of my hair? Of my eyes? It was hard to believe that someone who was so attractive and so confident couldn't see her own beauty.

"Thank you, Val. If I can call you Val," she said. I nodded gently, making sure not to mess up her braid work.

She finished the braid and tied it off with an elastic. Part of me felt disappointed that it was over. It was nice to feel someone playing with my hair and talk together. "Do you want... me to braid your hair?" I asked her.

"You don't have to," she said with a giggle. "My mane is too hard to put in a bun, let alone a braid. But thanks for the offer."

"Can I... can I touch it?" She laughed, but nodded, allowing me access. I turned around and sat cross-legged in front of her, and she knelt forward to let me touch her hair. I grabbed a little handful of curls and gave them a squeeze.

Her hair was soft, and each curl sprung back into place once I'd let it go. I couldn't notice it from far away, but her hair shimmered as if it was golden, like it was a lighter brown color than it had seemed. It was pretty long -- her hair reached the middle of her back normally -- but I bet it'd be a lot longer if it was straight. But why would she straighten it? Her curls were flawless, looking effortlessly perfect.

"You don't perm or anything?" I asked her, giving her hair another stroke.

"Nope, all natural. And I promise you're not the first person to play with my hair. Most don't even ask before they touch," she giggled. I know I'd flip out if anyone just started messing with my hair if they didn't ask first. But at the same time, I could see why people would have the urge to touch it, why I had the urge to touch it. It was irresistible.

Just then I heard a car pull into the driveway. "It's my mom," I told Jacqueline, climbing off my bed and leading her out of my room to the family room. My mom would kill me if she found me alone with a girl in my bedroom.

"Guys, I'm home," my mother called into the house, as she walked in, carrying her shoes. It wasn't until she closed the door behind herself that she noticed that Jacqueline. "Oh, I didn't know we had a guest today, Valerie."

"Mom," I started, "this is Jacqueline Bailey, one of my friends from school. Jacqueline, my mother, Victoria Stevens." Jacqueline lit up the house with her smile and reached her hand toward my mother's.

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Stevens," Jacqueline said, shaking my mom's hand. "You have a beautiful home."

"Thank you, Jacqueline. How sweet of you," my mother responded, giving a slight, polite smile, but I was able to sense her lack of authenticity.

"Well, I should get going. It's my turn to cook at home tonight." Jacqueline gathered her things (including her can of Dr. Pepper) and turned to face me. "Thanks for having me over , Val. I had a good time." With that, she walked past my mother, shaking her hand again, and walked out the front door. Wordlessly, my mom turned toward me.

"You've never mentioned a 'Jacqueline' before," she said, setting down her purse.

"She's a new friend," I informed her. "She needed some help in her English class, so I'm tutoring her."

"And braiding your hair is part of your tutoring process?" she asked, sweeping her hand up and down, indicating my hairstyle. "You haven't worn braids in years." I touched my braid; I'd forgotten that my hair was still braided, but I hadn't forgotten the feel of Jacqueline's hands through my hair.

"She offered. She said she liked my hair, and her own hair was too curly."

"I could see that," she said, walking past me to set her jacket on a kitchen chair. "I hope you weren't in your room alone with this girl."

"I wasn't."

"Are we going to see more of this Jacqueline?" she asked. I wanted to say "yes," because I was happy to have a distraction at home, especially a cute and bubbly distraction like Jacqueline Bailey.

"Maybe, if we decide to study here," I finally answered. My mother put her shoes away in the hall closet and proceeded down the hallway.

"I'm going to soak. It's been a rough day." I breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't hard to lie to my parents when it came to girls in my bedroom, but I never liked doing it.

With everyone else in the house being in their own rooms and their own little worlds, I decided to plop on the couch in the family room and escape into the little world of Charmed while playing with my braid.