Something Great - One Direction
My hair was flat. No matter how many times I had relaxed my hair in the past I never did get used to it's' flatness. It always surprised me and it still does.
The wound was still fresh so I didn't touch it to avoid infection, but my curiosity got the better of me and I touched it with my pinkie. It didn't hurt, it just stung.
Eventually the lady apologised, but I didn't care, the damage had been done and it didn't feel like her apology was sincere.
I called Terence to fetch me. My parents wouldn't have been able to fetch me anyways. They wanted me to take the bus more often, but I was over the bus. It was overpriced and overcrowded. I liked it when Terence fetched me. We didn't attend the same school so I always made the effort to see him, even if it were only for a minute, literally.
He'd just gotten his license anyway, he turned eighteen about a month ago and booked his driving test on his birthday, he wanted to be able to drive as soon as possible, in his opinion, and we should start driving at sixteen, not eighteen. I don't know how it works in America, but I don't know how you can feel comfortable being sixteen and driving, or fifteen? It befuddled me. I'm sixteen now and the thought of driving terrifies me.
Unlike my parents, Terence never fetched me late, he was always on time.
He'd never seen me with relaxed hair and I hoped he liked it. If he didn't there was nothing he could do about it, I only hoped that for his sake, I was pretty used to it, but then again I wouldn't have to look at it as much as he would.
He pulled in quietly and I said goodbye to everyone and left. I can't tell you what kind of car he had because I'm rubbish with car models, but it was a white BMW. I don't know which model, but it was an old one. I adored his car almost as much as he did. I bounced into his car and the car moved a little. He wasn't mad though, he just smiled.
"Hi!" I exclaimed stretching out the word, to emphasize that I was happy. Happy to leave, but happiness is happiness.
"Hello there." He said softly. He always spoke softly. He then leaned over and tried to kiss me on the forehead, but I moved a little and he missed my forehead and kissed one of my wounds. Once he felt it he turned right around to look at me or the wound rather.
"What is that? Get into a fight about who's going to use the dryer first?" he joked. I smiled a little. I had no intention of telling him what had happened. I knew that I would eventually have to, but I didn't want to.
"Something like that." He had no idea.
"Tell me, I want to know. Should we put a plaster on it?"
I shook my head. I didn't use plasters. My parents had always been against it. They said it was healthier for you to let the cut breathe. Personally I thought that we were just too poor to buy plasters. They're not expense, but back when, I regularly needed plasters, we didn't have a lot of money and we had other things to worry about besides plasters.
"No thank you, I don't put plasters on my face or to close to my hair."
"Just checking. What happened though, seriously?" he was focused on the road. It wasn't busy, but he liked to be careful.
"Flat iron out of control." I said trying to laugh it off. I didn't want to tell him how dangerous relaxer can be, he'd insist that I stop using it and that wasn't an option.
"Cut the Crap Kelly, tell me the truth."
"Uhm, who's Kelly?" I joked still trying to change the subject.
