Present Day
“They want natural hair color?” I muttered to myself sarcastically, staring down at the box of hair dye in my hand. “I’ll give them natural hair color.”
Opening the top, I studied the contents inside and took out the plastic gloves.
Gah. This looked like it could get messy.
I’d recently been browsing Pinterest and came across a beautiful woman with voluminous pink locks. The simple step-by-step instructions had seemed super easy.
Never mind the fact that I was the posterchild for anything Pinterest-gone-wrong.
I shrugged. “How hard can dyeing my hair be?”
Through the second-story bathroom window, I could see the sun peeking above the horizon behind the house across the street, which meant I needed to hurry. I’d gotten up extra early just for this—my last hurrah, leaving my high school days behind me in a blaze of pink glory.
“I can’t wait to see the look on their faces…”
A knock sounded at the bathroom door, followed by my dad’s slightly amused voice. “Talking to yourself in there, Kay Kay?”
“Yes,” I answered through gritted teeth and didn’t bother asking him not to call me that ridiculous nickname. He never listened anyway.
“If you have something to talk about, I’m all ears. But I have to give my two cents before you make a big mistake—once you chemically alter your hair, it’s never the same.” He began tapping out an upbeat rhythm on the wood separating us, and I heaved out a sigh.
He was like a relentless bloodhound, only his senses were all focused on me. More specifically, when something was wrong. Sometimes I loved the connection we had. Other times, like now, it was a little annoying.
Swinging the door open, I was greeted by his knowing smile and I huffed. “How do you always know everything? It’s creepy.”
Smug, he waved a slip of paper through the air. “You left the Walmart receipt on the kitchen counter last night. If you’re going to be sneaky, you should try being better at it.”
Having two dads who were lawyers would probably come in handy someday but, unfortunately for me, their interrogation tactics were top-notch. There was no point in lying. Besides, it’s not like they wouldn’t notice when I came down for breakfast with cotton-candy hair.
“I’m not hiding anything,” I stated, holding up the box. “This is happening.”
Squinting, he studied it. “Fuchsia sunrise? Goodness, this is going to wreak havoc on your ends.”
Doubt crept in. “I think it’s pretty. And the tutorial seemed legit…”
His brown eyes widened with excitement behind his gray-framed glasses. “Is this going to be another epic Pinterest fail? Do I need to get my camera ready?”
“Ugh!” I threw my hands up and set the dye down.
My inability to be crafty was a running joke in my family. Last year for Christmas, my parents had given me a photo album with the words “Nailed It” on the front. Guess what was inside? Yep. Every project I’d ever attempted—attempted being the operative word.
He gave an indifferent shrug. “Well, if you’re looking to turn some heads, this’ll do it.”
“I’m not looking to turn heads. I’m just… mad.”
He frowned. “Is the A-squad giving you trouble again?”
“Aren’t they always?”
The A-squad consisted of Abby one, Abby two, and Anne. And all of them were assholes with a capital A. They were the quintessential mean girls and they’d given me a hard time since day one in this town. AJ had been dating Abby two for the past year, so he was part of it now.
Yesterday Anne made fun of my hair again, and I decided that was the last straw. I always tried to tame my unruly locks. If I used enough anti-frizz product and a straightener, I could get it to appear somewhat normal.
But I’d gotten caught in the rain on my way back from lunch. All it took was a minute of light sprinkling, and poof. My natural curls popped up, along with Anne’s irritating questions.
Can I touch it?
Did you get a perm?
Are you sure that’s your natural hair color?
She knew the answer to all of those. No. No. And, for the love of God, yes.
All the while, the rest of them had a good laugh at my expense. That is, until Gavin showed up and made them scurry away with one badass look.
“You can’t use Gavin as a crutch forever,” my dad said, as if he could read my mind.
“I know that.”
“What are you going to do with him moving away?”
“Cry every day?” I answered honestly.
Although everyone in town probably thought Gavin was my soulmate, they were only fifty percent right about that. Gavin was my other half, but not in the romantic sense. He was my protector, my hero, and my very good-looking, very gay best friend.
From the second we met, we were inseparable. Like me, he was into sci-fi movies, reading, and shopping. After we’d been hanging out for a couple months, he trusted me enough to confess his darkest secret. It’d happened during a weekend when his parents were away and we were having a Lord of the Rings marathon. In between movies he’d blurted it out, then broke down right before my eyes. I’d held my gentle giant as he wept, softly telling him he wasn’t wrong or weird or bad.
I gave him something he desperately needed—my unconditional love and the promise to never tell a soul.
No one outside of my family knew his sexual orientation. My parents had been able to tell right away, but they never called him out. They just had an unspoken understanding and made him feel accepted without ever saying a word.
That’s why Gavin felt so comfortable at my house. This was the only place where he didn’t have to put on an act.
“I’ll miss him, but he needs to get away from here,” I said sadly. “He’ll be able to start over in California where he can just be who he is.”
“And what about you?” My dad reached out and affectionately touched my stick-straight strands. “Are you going to be able to be who you are?”
“I don’t know.”
Being a chameleon had become second-nature to me. It only took one day for me to realize how odd I was compared to everyone else, so I adapted to my surroundings. I conformed, all in the name of acceptance.
If I said the right things, wore the popular clothing, and straightened my hair, I could blend in.
I overcompensated by being involved in student activities and excelling in all the right areas—academics, art club, Spanish club, student council, year book committee. I was even nominated for homecoming queen. I didn’t win, but I was just happy to see my name up there.
I drew the line at cheerleading. I’d thought about trying out, but that would’ve meant spending an enormous amount of time with the A-squad, and that was just going too far.
However, I did attend all of Gavin’s football games, cheering him on from the sidelines while proudly wearing his jersey.
Rob—my other dad—appeared next to John in the hallway, tapping his bearded chin. “Do you have anything important going on next week, say, between Tuesday and Friday?”
Was it odd that I called my parents by their first names? In a family with heterosexual parents, I might’ve said yes. But John and Rob had decided it early on because calling two people ‘Dad’ could’ve gotten confusing for us.
My eyebrows furrowed as I thought about my plans between the last day of school and the graduation ceremony. “Probably catching up on the rest of that alien series. I’m on book nine and there was a major plot twist.”
“You mean the ones with those hunky blue men on the cover? Isn’t that romance?” John pursed his lips, turning toward Rob. “Don’t those books have sex in them?”
Rob gave him a chiding nudge, siding with me. He was definitely the more lenient of the two. “I think it’s sci-fi romance. Does that make you feel better?”
Rolling my eyes, I fought a smile. “I’m eighteen. Nothing you can do about it.”
“Well, how would you feel about reading them on a plane?” Rob asked.
Now I was confused. “What are you talking about?”
Hopping with excitement, Rob handed me an envelope and I opened it.
“Disney World?” Three tickets were inside. “You’re taking me there?”
They both nodded, grinning from ear to ear.
Squealing, I jumped up and down like a little kid. I’d never been there before and I didn’t even care that I was an adult now. It was going to be awesome. “I can’t fucking believe this!”
Another odd thing about my parents—they’d never cared much if I said traditional swear words. Growing up I’d been taught not to say the real bad words. Ugly. Retarded. Fag. Hate. When used as weapons, those were the ones that hurt, leaving invisible scars on hearts forever. And there was no reason for them to be directed at myself or anyone else. Ever.
Sure, the F-word lacked class, but every now and then the situation called for it. Like right now.
I lunged forward, wrapping them both in a hug.
“It’s a graduation present,” John wheezed out, because I was squeezing so hard. I couldn’t help it. I was so dang excited. “And there’s one more thing.”
I untangled myself from them, because more presents!
John handed me a small box. It took me a few seconds to figure out what it was, but after connecting the words ‘ancestry’ and ‘DNA’, I gasped. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Yep.” John’s expression was soft when he said, “We should’ve done this a long time ago. We know how important it is to you to find out your heritage. All you have to do is spit into the little container, send it off, and in about six weeks you should have the answers you’re looking for.”
Did he say spit? Gross. But still, this was amazing. “You guys are the best.”
I set it down on the counter next to the hair dye.
“What is that?” Rob asked, horrified, pointing at the other box in the room.
I sighed before tossing it into the garbage can. “A lapse in judgment.”
Having pink hair wasn’t going to fix my problems. I just had to make it until graduation, then I’d be free of this place.