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My face reddens as if she slapped me. I wish I could think of something wittier, but at times, the plain truth is good enough. “You really are a bitch. ”
“Stop it, Elisabeth,” says Scott. “And Allison, her grades are improving. ”
Well, screw me, Scott reprimanded the wench. Huh. Allison tears her eyes from the e-reader. I could bask in the glory of this moment, but I decided weeks ago that she’s not worth my time. I turn to Scott. Daydreaming is over. I have real problems. “I need black hair dye. ”
“For what?” Scott asks.
Is he blind? I shake my hair and lower my head so he can see my roots. My roots. The blond pokes out from my jet-black hair like annoying rays of sun. I flip my hair back over my shoulder. “Will you buy me some?”
If I buy anything with the cash Isaiah gave me, Scott would be all over me like flies to crap. I’m not ready to tip my hand that I have cash. Besides, he’s always wanting to do something for me—now he can.
“No,” he says.
Um…did I misunderstand him? “No?”
“No. ”
“I’m not going to be a blonde. ”
“It’s who you are. Why do you have to change something so beautiful?”
“So only blondes are beautiful?”
Scott closes his eyes. “I never said that. ”
“Then buy me the dye. ”
He reopens them and studies me during one of his patented long silences. “I’ll buy you something that will match your original hair color. ”
“I don’t want to be blond. ”
“Give me a good reason why not. ”
“I prefer black. ”
“Not good enough. ”
I purposefully gawk at Allison. “I hate blondes. ”
“Still not good enough. ”
I cross my arms over my chest and redirect my gaze to him. I can also do long silences.
“That’s it, Elisabeth? You want to have black hair. Just because. You have no reason. You want what you want. ”
“Yeah. ” I don’t like his tone or the way his blue eyes look right through me.
“When did you first dye it?” he asks.
“Eighth grade. ” My instincts yell at me to run.
“Why?”
My throat becomes tight and I glance away.
“Because. ”
“Because why, Elisabeth?”
