“What’s with the bandana?” Cole asked, swinging himself easily over the fence.
I shrugged as Preston joined us. I pulled the thin piece of material wrapped around my head down over the ear on the side Cole was standing on, making sure not to allow him to see the back of my head where my orange hair was visible. “Just trying out a new look,” I answered, attempting to keep the nervousness out of my voice.
“Hmm,” Cole said, seeming to consider it, “well, it’s kinda dumb. You look better without it.” He reached up and pulled the bandana off my head. I let out a little yelp, lifting my hands to my head in an effort to grab it back, but was too late. I heard both boys suck in a breath.
My eyes moved slowly from the flimsy piece of material in Cole’s hand to his face to see a look of wide-eyed shock. Humiliation climbed up my neck and settled hotly in my cheeks.
He simply gaped for a minute before he pointed at my hair. “That’s . . . what happened to you?” I narrowed my eyes and looked over at Preston who was still gawking at me, his eyes fixed on my hair.
I felt tears burning the backs of my eyes, and before I started crying in front of them, I grabbed the bandana out of Cole’s hand and stomped away through the crunchy, brown grass.
“Annalia,” Preston said. He grabbed my arm and I turned toward him, ready to tell him to leave me alone. “Wait.”
I tried to conjure up some anger, but the concerned look on Preston’s face caused a huge lump to move from my chest to my throat and I choked slightly, a small hiccup giving me away. The tears I’d attempted to hold at bay sprung to my eyes and I turned quickly, walking away again. “Hey, hey, wait,” Preston said again, catching up to me. “How’d that happen?”
I stopped. “I did it, okay?” I threw my arms up in the air and let them fall. “I tried,” I glanced at Cole who was walking toward us, “I tried to go blonde and it didn’t work, all right?”
Cole snorted softly and Preston shot him a nasty look before turning his eyes back to me. “Why would you want to be blonde, Lia?” He looked so completely baffled, and it made me feel stupid and even more alone. They would never understand what it felt like to wish they were someone else. They had everything—a huge, beautiful house, two parents who loved them and didn’t pray every day that they’d never been born. They loved going home as much as I loved leaving mine. The truth was, I spent more time outside my house than in it because I could hardly bear to be there at all.
I sighed and shrugged. I didn’t have the words to explain it to Preston and even if I did, I wouldn’t have used them. “I don’t know.”
He sighed, too, and then stared at me for a few long moments. “You like it?”
“No.”
He nodded once, chewing at his bottom lip, his braces glinting in the sun, and then took my hand in his, pulling me along behind him. “What—?”
“Just come on. We’ve gotta fix that.”
“Hey, where are you guys going?” Cole called.
“We’re gonna fix Lia’s hair,” Preston said back. I stumbled over a rock on the ground and Preston’s hand tightened, gripping me so I didn’t fall.
“Why? We could put some clown makeup on you and go scare some people.”
I shot Cole a glare over my shoulder and then turned back quickly.
“Aw, Annalia, I was just kidding around,” he shouted. “Preston, we’re supposed to help Dad.”
“Cover for me,” Preston called. He picked up his pace, causing me to have to jog beside him, his expression determined. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Cole had hopped back over the fence and was jogging in the opposite direction, off to do whatever they were supposed to be doing for their dad.
“What are you gonna do?” I asked Preston.
“Wait here,” he said, letting go of my hand and leaving me near the side of his house by a pretty row of lilac bushes that filled the air with sweetness. He ran toward the back door, going inside and closing the screen quietly behind him. I tied the bandana on, tucking my hair inside once again. A few minutes later he was back out and he nodded his head again for me to follow him.
“Where are we going?”
“Into town. My mom’s hairdresser, Deirdre, works right on Main Street.”
“I don’t have any money.”
“I do.” He patted his pocket.
“I’m not going to let you pay to fix my hair, Preston Sawyer.” The very idea filled me with shame.
He picked up his bike and nodded his head at the handlebars. “It’s not really for you. It’s a selfless gift to the residents of Linmoor.” His lip quirked up slightly and his eyes squinted.
Despite myself, I laughed a small laugh.
His eyes moved to my upturned lips and his grin widened. I was so unaccustomed to seeing Preston grin that way that for a moment it stunned me and made me forget what we’d been talking about. “Hop on,” he repeated softly, swinging his leg over the bike.
I looked suspiciously at the bike wondering where he wanted me to sit. He patted the space between the handlebars and though I hesitated, I trusted Preston. I finally climbed up, squeezing my butt into place. I’d never ridden a bike by myself, much less balanced on one as someone else pedaled. Preston teetered a little as we started off, and I let out an alarmed laugh, but then he picked up some speed and began pedaling quickly.
We turned out of his driveway onto the dirt road that led to the main road, the dry, hot wind blowing in my face. I felt like I was flying. I leaned my head back and laughed up at the wide blue sky. My bandana flew off and I let out a yell as I looked behind Preston’s bike, watching it blow down the road and off to the side. I sighed, turning back around and tipping my head up again, this time feeling my orange hair streaming behind me.
Preston left his bike leaning against a tree outside the hair salon on Main Street and I followed him into the shop. A small bell jangled over the door and the smell of chemicals and various hair products wafted in the air. A woman in a pink smock was sweeping hair into a dustpan and looked up when she heard us enter. I stood slightly behind Preston.
“Well, hi there.”
“Ma’am.”
She smiled at Preston as she straightened up. “You can call me Deirdre, honey. And tell me which one you are. I never can tell you handsome Sawyer boys apart.”
“Preston.”
“Well, hi there, Preston. What can I help you with?” she asked with another wide smile.
“This is Annalia.” He pushed me in front of him and her eyes grew wide when she saw my hair.
She walked toward me and picked up a frizzy strand. “Well, child, what have you done to yourself?”
“I tried to go blonde.”
“Huh. Honey, you didn’t even get in the ballpark of blonde.”
I looked down, biting my lip in embarrassment.
“What’s the real color of your hair?”
“Black.”