TANGLED PLANS

8

When I get home from the hair salon, I feel like a new person. I also feel shy as I head over to the kitchen for dinner. My dad is plating up my food, but he knows I've made it home. "Hi, honey. Just take a seat, and I'll have your food ready," he says, and in a hurry, he turns to give me a smile.

Only he stops short when he notices me and does a double take. I feel my cheeks hurting from the smile I'm not letting out, and my dad says, "You look so beautiful, sweetie. The hair looks super good."

"What are you guys talking about?" I hear my brother say, and I look down to find him already eating. He looks up from his plate and also does a double take when he looks at me. His eyes widen, and then he says, "You look so different, Daisy."

"So pretty," my dad gushes and hands me a plate. I take it from him and smile at him for both the compliment and the food. Once I'm seated at the table, my dad joins us and starts to eat as well. I liked that my dad still found the time to eat meals with us; it made the situation so much better. The absence of our mother hits hard at times, but we never showed it. Meal times were ones that we kept to make sure all of us were okay.

I was okay today. I had a good day, and instead of that making me feel so bad, it made me feel better. My therapist had told me that was a very good realization to have. I used to go to theraphy, but I stopped after a while of it not working, but I still kept all that I'd learned from her close to my heart.

My dad meets my eyes and says, "So why the sudden interest in a makeover?"

I twirl my fork on the spaghetti and stop short. What did I truly say? "It's not much of a makeover," I say with a shrug. My dad gives me a look that reads even so. I sigh and say, "I just wanted to be able to feel pretty again."

"Well, you are pretty," my dad says, and I sigh again. Nobody knew how hard it was to be average-looking but not feel like it. Those were two different concepts.

"I just want to look better." I settle for the answer.

"Well, you now certainly do," my dad says with a huge smile. I thank him, and he takes a sip of his water. He puts his glass down and says, "I don't know how I feel about you looking prettier now, though."

"What do you mean?" I ask him with a frown. My dad gives me a light shrug and says, "Well, now how would the boys be able to stay away from you?"
I let out a loud laugh, and that prompts my brother to look up and frown. He meets my eyes and says, "Dad's right. I don't like that idea either."

"Well, I do," I quip, and I give them a large smile. "Let the boys come ask me out; I'm already sixteen!"

"Please, Dais. You don't need boys right now," Brayden says with a scoff, and I shake my head at him.

"Well, I'm sure Max thought you looked extra pretty today, Daisy," my dad says to break the ice between the sibling glaring contest. I turn to my dad with my cheeks flaming and try not to let it show how much those worses affected me. I was still crushing on Max, and I hoped that nobody else knew.

Max had told me I looked pretty once in the salon, and right before I left his car, he had yelled out, "The hair looks good, Dais." I took his compliments very close to heart. My heart was full of the warmth he provided, even though I had wanted to take attention away from him. I didn't want to like Max anymore.

Before I can contradict that statement, Brayden drops his fork and brings attention to him. "Max can't like you that way," he says with a frown. I don't say anything to that, and he continues, "That's just not a good thing." I don't dare ask him what that could mean because then it would bring attention to the fact that I maybe wanted Max to like me. So, I nod at my brother and then turn back to my food.