It was 1.30pm before I met up with Charlotte in the clothes store around the corner from June’s office. We were picking out our outfits for tonight, Charlotte had won the argument of her buying my clothes as another birthday present, because apparently the new camera wasn’t enough.
Charlotte decided on some leather shorts and a silk, black and white stripe shirt and a cropped leather jacket. Her roller skates were completely black, even the lace so they’d go with anything.
I decided to get a short dress, it had a pink floral pattern and was strapless. My gift from one of my other friends was to get my hair done and she’d pay for it, so next we were off to the hair dressers. I had the hairdresser perm my hair. But not one of those crazy 80’s perms, my hair was long enough, and heavy enough, to make the tight curls drop and leave them hanging in a permanent neat wave. I also had it dyed dark blonde so it looked more natural.
“What now? We have the clothes, we’ve got skates, we’ve got the hair.” Charlotte said counting the things off on her fingers.
“We’re sorted. Now we can go back to my apartment and chill before we need to start getting ready.” I said hitting the button for the traffic lights.
“Let me look at your hands.” She said and before I could even start to protest she’d grabbed my hand and was examining my nails.
“Jesus! What the hell?” I asked and snatched my hand back before storming across the road.
She followed and quickly caught up. “I just want to make sure that you look amazing on the first day of your last year as a teenager. I know you made sure I was, remember my 80’s party last year you were the one that did my hair and make up and actually took a course on it just so it’d look really good.” She said, Charlotte was six months older than me so she was already getting old but not any less childish.
“Well, that’s because I don’t even know what I want yet, I mean I moved here three years ago, I’ve took pretty much every course at that college just so I’m prepared for when we leave in a month, and I still don’t know what I want to do.” I said and fished my keys out my pocket to unlock my front door.
“I think you should be a singer, you’re really good.” She said joyfully.
“Thanks, but no thanks. I like the idea but I don’t like the stage fright. I was thinking something that’s creative but serious, sorta. Like, I’d really love to own a salon but first I have to start hairdressing properly and then I have to get higher up. And then I’d have to buy a place, get staff and it’d just cost a lot of money.” I said glumly as I walked into my apartment and dumped my bags on the counter.
“Well, what if I loaned you some money?” She asked placing her bags on the chair in the corner.
“No, no way. It’s not as if I don’t have the money because trust me from the amount I’ve been working I do, my fridge is practically empty because I just haven’t had time to go shopping so I have all this money saved up.” I explained and put my phone on the counter near my shopping.
“Fine then, why don’t you start hairdressing? If it’s something you really want to do Grace, you have to stick to it, I’ll help you. I’ll come with you when you’re searching for buildings and stuff, ‘kay?” She said animatedly. And then she burst into laughter.
“What? What’s so funny?” I asked looking around.
“It’s just,” she clutched her stomach as another fit of laughter hit her, “you’re trying to look so serious, and then you have those dye stains on your face and foil in your hair. It’s hilarious.” Her laughter had become silent now and she was bent over grasping her stomach.
