Today was one of those rare days that I was happy to own a convertible in the wonderful city of Denver, Colorado. Even in August, the temperature only managed to hit the low eighties, and those are the hot days. Right now the climate was perfect, about seventy-five degrees, a small scattering of clouds, and a warm breeze.
Look at me, I should be a weather woman.
Good evening Denver, this is Rebecca White coming to you live from the channel 9 news station, this just in, perfect weather all week long!
But, unfortunately the weather people don't make weather, they just predict it. That's actually a good thing because if there's perfectly, perfect weather all year long we'd never get snow days. I feel bad for the kids in Florida, but then again they probably get days off for bad storms and hurricanes.
Anyway... Time to get back on track.
I had returned everything to their rightful stores, except the look of choice, minus the wig, and had purchased a few more outfits for the new me. I was now heading to a hair salon to get my hair all done up.
A hysterical giggle left my lips at the though of my friends face when they see me, or rather my alter-ego, tonight at Marcie's. I texted each of them to meet me there at seven-thirty tonight. They'll never see it coming. They'll be so shocked. Not by the fact that I'd changed my look, but the fact that I had actually taken Mason's advice. Their facial expressions shall be utterly flabbergasted.
I pulled up infront of the hair salon, and practically ran through the glass double doors of Veda. The most award winning hair salon in all of Denver.
" Hello, darling. Welcome to Veda! How may I assist you?" A trendy looking thirty-something year old, with a light pink, spiky pixie-bob, greeted me.
" Um, I have an appointment for four-fifteen." I said unable to keep my eyes of her magnificent hair.
" Rebecca White?" She asked burying her teeny upturned nose into a black leather book.
" Yes, that's me." I said, pleased with how professional I sounded.
She slammed the book closed and looked at me with a smile, " Just in time. Right this way Miss White."
She lead me toward the back of the salon, and into a plush leather spinny-chair. I sank in comfortably and took in the rest of the salon. It was in the style of what you would call "modern chic with sleek black furniture, geometric wallpaper and flat screen t.v.s. Mirrors lined the walls, and women in the chairs look completely relaxed, and confident in their hair stylists' abilities.
"Are you Rebecca?" a voice with a heavy french said from behind me. I jumped in my seat and spun around to meet the face of a woman with wavy black hair and chocolate brown eyes. Her french features were prominent within her beige skin, and high cheek bones.
" Yes." I said, though I was tempted to say oui.
" I am Natasha." She introduced herself.
" Nice to meet you." I said. She smiled.
" Okay petit amour, how do you want me to help you?" She said spinning me to face the mirror so she could speak to my reflection.
" I would like my hair straighted and-"
" Quoi! But your curls are si belle! " She said in a shocked tone. I knew enough french, to understand most of what she was saying.
" Merci, but you see. I want a new, more mature look, and frankly these curls aren't helping." I explained pulling at one of my curls.
" Je vois." She nodded. " Well, I can help you there. Just sit back and let me work my magic."
YOU ARE READING
Little Miss Not So Perfect
أدب المراهقينBecca White is your average prepatory school girl, straight A's and tidy neatness. Until her father decides to move into the city. Now having to attend a public school she decides it's the perfect time to reinvent herself, create someone new, an alt...
