Ten of Me ✓

Twelve

ERIN

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I went to all of my classes, even though Morgan followed me down the hallways during breaks insisting that I skip with her. I even began to feel a little guilty for skipping English class--and even though Noah had forgiven me, for overreacting about Kayla. It had almost been such a perfect evening until I'd gone and ruined it just because he'd gotten a text. For all I knew, it could have been a desperate plea for him to hang out with her that he hadn't even been planning on responding to.

After school, I took the car to Mom's beauty salon and sat in one of the chairs at the side of the room while I watched her work her magic on a middle-aged woman who was going brunette. Mom definitely looked in her element; her eyes were sparkling as she worked a curling iron through the woman's slick-straight and newly dark hair.

"This is my daughter, Nicole," she said, gesturing towards me with the hand holding the hairbrush. The woman acknowledged me with a smile that made her skin crinkle, and Mom continued to curl her hair. "You feel like me giving you a makeover next, honey?" she asked.

I thought about how happy I had been that day and how Noah had been so nice to me, and how amazing I had felt last night just being myself. But transforming into someone else could bring along other prospects; not new, just different. I could always go back to Nicole's improving life later.

"Sure," I said, smiling. The middle-aged woman in the chair nodded approvingly, and then she and Mom went back to discussing their neighborhood politics. I crossed and uncrossed my legs over and over again, my eyes trailing around the beauty salon as I listened to the quiet chatter. Everything was so peaceful.

About fifteen minutes later, Mom had finished the woman's hair and removed the cape, and I slid out of my cardigan to go take a seat at the sink. I tipped my head back, feeling the cold metal against my neck, and closed my eyes. Somehow, transforming into someone else seemed different today; I almost felt reluctant.

Mom's hands massaged my scalp, her fingers consistent and peaceful, and my breathing began to slow until it almost felt methodical. I didn't know what Mom was planning on changing me into today, but I knew she would do what was best. And then I could go and be someone else for a few hours, and went I returned and washed out the dye, maybe I could go back over to Noah's house and we could pick up exactly where we'd left off the previous night, before I'd had my unnecessary meltdown.

It didn't take Mom very long to complete my transformation, but she spent an extra-long time on my makeup, curling my eyelashes and working to achieve a look I knew she had captured in her mind's eye. When she finally let me look in the mirror, I saw a cute, flirty girl with long wavy black hair, lightly tanned skin, and, true to my mother's word, perfect makeup.

"If I can suggest a name," Mom said as she began cleaning up, "I would say you look like an Erin to me. Also, I don't recommend putting in any color contacts today. Your eyes look beautiful with your new face."

I--Erin--continued to stare in the mirror, my fingers running absentmindedly up and down my curls. I was getting used to looking like someone else, but it was always a shock to look in the mirror and see a completely new face.

"But my eyes," I said, once I'd finally stopped looking in the mirror and had hopped down from the seat. My heeled wedges connected with the floor harder than I'd intended. "Someone will recognize me if I don't change my eye color."

Mom shook out my cape and then hung it on a hook next to one of the mirrors. "No they won't," she said. "You look completely different, anyway. Go put on a pink shirt and a hair bow and then get out and socialize some."