Chapter 24 (post two)

Pre-note: Here is the next section. The sun and warmth inspired me to write another piece of New Wings today. 

Chapter twenty-four, section two:

The name “Soleres” seemed to fit the city. Walking through the clean streets to Sunshine with Chantel, Cara and Amy, in our matching skinny jeans, the latest catalogue in our hands, colour coded and puppy-eared, the sun shining through our hair, it fit: Soleres – sun and light and warmth.

There was never a mention of what had happened last week at the dance, or of the last month for that matter; instead, we talked about the boy that Chantel had met and the way 68 had danced with Amy all night long. Then there was lots of giggling and stereotypical squealing when Amy got a text from 68 as we wandered through the new sundresses – and all he asked her was what she was doing that night.

After we had checked out our purchases (matching sundresses, blue clutches and over-sized button cardigans), Amy turned to me as we left the store.

“New Wings, we’ve decided to make this official.”

“What?”

She took my arm and started leading me up the street, the opposite way from where the car was parked.

“What? Where are we going?” I kept asking, laughing along as they smiled and giggled, shaking their heads.

“You’ll see!”

“Hint please?” I laughed, my arms now joined with theirs.

They all shook their heads so their bangs bounced and forth, then Cara laughed, “That was still a hint you guys!”

They all burst out laughing, and I just smiled, totally confused.  

We rounded a corner and they pulled me into a store before I could read the sign in the window. We immerged into – a hair dressers. I looked around at the large mirrors and row of black chairs, the decor was modern and expensive looking.

“What’s going on?” I asked, still smiling.

“Wait, you’ll find out soon,” Care insisted as Amy started talking to the little blonde receptionist in a low voice. The reception nodded and motioned a woman over.

The next thing I knew, I was in a chair and the woman was holding scissors. I closed my eyes and felt the cold touch of metal against my forehead, the almost silent snip of hair under blades, the bristles of a soft brush over my face, then the motion of the chair as the hair dresser spun me around.

I opened my eyes and saw my reflection in the mirror – my reflection with my wheat-blonde hair, and the reflection of Cara, Chantel and Amy with smiles ear to ear, now all with the same messy, side-swept bangs.

“This calls for a picture!” Chantel announced, pulling her cell phone from her purse. There was a click and then the moment was frozen in time: Care, Chantel, Amy and me, my grin even wider than theirs.