Overcast | ✓

Dragonflies & Spiders

Faye Edgell has met my parents on multiple occasions and they like her just fine. In fact, my father often asks me when my "bookish friend" would be coming over again. I don't find it strange that I have never so much as spoken to Faye's parents because it simply isn't my business whether or not she wants me to meet them. Today, she is over for the third time so we can get ready for the meet up, which is honestly a pretty stupid idea. It isn't a party. What do you even wear to something like this? What reads as "I don't actually want to be here because these protests are violent and idiotic, but my insane friend is dragging me along to participate in some nonsensical investigation"? I settled for jeans and a sweater.

Faye almost cannot help herself from picking up items around my room. She shakes a snow globe on my dresser, she sorts my pens in rainbow order, she opens my closet to find a jacket, but stops at a bin on the floor.

"What's this," Faye asks, plucking a bottle of blue-green hair dye from inside. "Have you colored your hair turquoise before?"

"No. That's one of Maeve's old ones. You know, before she switched to pink."

"I can't imagine Maeve with anything but pink hair."

"Yeah, it wasn't really her color," I smile. "It would fit you, though." And she gives me this look that really can only mean one thing. So, approximately 2 hours before the meetup in which an anonymous protester would be delivering a speech, I dyed Faye Edgell's hair turquoise.

"This isn't going to look stupid, is it?" I am standing behind her as she sits in a chair, both of us staring at my bathroom mirror.

"I hope not."

"Okay, you're not exactly making me feel more confident in your hairdressing abilities."

"It's too late to back out now," I said, pulling the pair of plastic gloves off and throwing them into the trash bin. "Just wait fifteen minutes and try not to get hair dye on the countertops. My mother will murder both of us."

Faye sits cross legged and grins widely at me in the mirror. "Thank you, Sunny," she coos and I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah."

Once the dye was rinsed out, I realized Faye was sort of built to sport this color. She looks like the kind of character you see in films, the "manic pixie dream girl". Emphasis on manic. She is extremely excited about the new look, even if it's just the tips of her hair that looks any different.

"Can't you smile," she teases, extending her phone out to take a picture of us.

"The muscles in my face are actually too weak. I'm physically unable to smile."

"That's bullshit."

She snaps the photo anyway, and it is horrible. Her eyes are reduced to thin slits as she smiles wider than I believed humanly possible and mine are stuck on her. It is blurry and poorly lit and possibly the most unflattering thing I have ever seen, but I think it would look nice framed beside my bed. I stare at it for a very long time as Faye toys with her hair in the mirror.

"Is Elio coming to the meetup?"

"Definitely not," I say. "He hates crowds, just like me."

Faye looks over at me with a knowing smile. "This might be fun, you know. Investigating. Won't you feel happier if all of this ended because we found the culprit?"

I don't reply, but part of me is screaming yes. I want to connect evidence in a way that brings about some huge revelation. I want to stop all of this and prevent it from going any further. I want this stupid protest to dissolve.

"How was your date with Ruby Thompson?"

"It wasn't a date," I reply. "But, it went fine. Sort of awkward."