I was heading home until I walked past a barbershop. At first, I just walked by, but then I backed up and looked at myself in the window.
My reflection stared back, and I had to wince. My hair was a mess. No style, no direction. It was the kind of haircut you get when your only hairstylist is gravity and a pillow. True loner behavior.
'Wow,' I thought, my brief moment of confidence from the call with Nina evaporating. 'I look like a mess.'
For years, I hadn't cared. Why would I? Who was going to see it? But now, someone was. Someone was waiting for me at the corner every morning. Someone was going to be sitting with me in the most boring club in school.
'Well,' I thought, a new, weird feeling taking root in my gut. 'I guess it's time to try a little.'
The decision felt both terrifying and ridiculously small. It was just a haircut. But it felt like a bigger deal. I took a deep breath, shoved my shaky hands in my pockets, and walked into the shop.
