The Good Hair Family Sitcom

S4 E11.3: Perspective

Hazel's POV

I've never used air-dry clay before but it's fairly easy. The grey stretches as I drag my fingers along it, moulding it into the shape of a hand with its palm open. I didn't really have an inspiration for this. I just needed to make something, and this is the first thing I thought of. I couldn't do much thinking anyway with Linny beside me. Her eyes flutter as she watches me shape my sculpture, her hair laced through a series of butterfly clips and my pearl barrette to keep it out of her face.

"You might need a bit more water," she suddenly says.

She dips her fingers into the bowl of water and transfers the droplets onto my sculpture, letting her fingertips glide against mine on the clay. Startled, I look up at her, our eyes connecting like magnets. After a second, we manage to divide our gazes, and she pulls her hand back to herself.

"Sorry," she utters.

"For what?"

"I feel like I'm taking over your art project."

With a smile, I shake my head. "Don't worry about that. You aren't."

"Good." She remains quiet for an extra moment, observing my work, before adding, "Then might I suggest, when it's dry of course..." She selects a tube of pearly white paint and brings it over for me to see.

"I expected you to go for, like, the lilac or another pastel," I respond.

"Those are fine, but this would make it look like a renaissance marble masterpiece that'd you'd see in a museum."

I smile, my attention slowly shifting from my artwork to my friend as I say, "So how did you get into that stuff? Like, renaissance, medeival, all that."

"I don't remember an exact moment," she replies. "I do remember loving princess stories when I was little. And when I found out princesses were real, unlike fairies or dragons, I was ecstatic." She giggles a little as she reminisces. "I used to wear a hennin to school every day in elementary, and I'd get upset when the teachers asked me to take it off. Eventually, they let me wear it, but I had to sit at the back of the class, because it blocked the other kids' view of the front."

"Sounds like a wonderful fashion choice. I would adore it," I say with a grin. "I wish I had the confidence to do that when I was little. But I already stood out enough."

"I suppose we have that in common," her delicate voice speaks.

"I assume it was tough for you," I say.

"Tough, yes. And confusing. I didn't really understand why people didn't like me."

"Because they were stupid," I mutter, which makes Linny look up at me, her shimmering eyes making my chest flitter. "Any smart person would be able to see that you're absolutely...iridescent."

She raises an eyebrow at that. "Are you sure you're using that word correctly?

"Yes."

My certainty causes her to smile, and she looks down at her hands before returning her eyes to me and wonders, "Did you ever feel out of place?" Right when I'm about to speak, she cuts in, muttering, "That's a dumb question. Of course you did."

"Yeah, I did," I answer anyway. "And I knew who I was, but nobody else did. But I found my friends and stuck with them."

"Same. Before Brayden and Kelsey, I didn't really have any friends, because honestly most neurotypical people overcomplicate everything beyond what it needs to be."

I let out a laugh. "Can't argue with you there. There are a lot of norms that don't really make sense. Like gender norms."

"Ugh. Don't get me started about those."