What a Doll! (2 page)

Emmy was still stammering. “P-Plenty of grown-ups have long
hair,” she pointed out.

Lizzy frowned. “Oh, never mind,” she said. “You're
hopeless.”

“I'm sorry,” Emmy said, making sure her voice
didn't crack. She was on the verge of tears. Things had been so much better in the
last few minutes, and now Lizzy was disappointed. She was giving up on Emmy.

“Whatever,” Lizzy said like she really didn't care.
“I was just trying to help you. Forget it. Let's just go watch TV
again.”

Emmy's heart sank deeper into her stomach. Her mind raced. Was there
some way to salvage this sleepover? Yes, there was.

“How about if you just trim it?” Emmy asked. “I
don't mind having it cut a little bit. It might be . . .
cool,” she added.

Lizzy smiled. “Excellent,” she said. “It
will
be cool. I promise. First let me wash it in the sink, like
at a real hair salon.”

They went into the bathroom, where Lizzy gently sudsed up Emmy's
hair and carefully rinsed it. Then she even added conditioner. Emmy loved the feeling of
Lizzy's hands massaging her scalp. Lizzy was right. It was just like being at the
salon. All the while, Lizzy was humming happily. It was just like old times. She helped
Emmy stand up, wrapped one towel around her head and one around her shoulders, and led
her back into her bedroom, where she combed out her hair and turned Emmy away from the
mirror. Emmy felt like she was at a fancy spa.

“Here, sit on this towel,” Lizzy said, “so we
don't get hair all over the floor.” Emmy moved onto the towel.

Just as Lizzy started cutting, her cell phone rang. She put down the
scissors and grabbed the phone.

“Hey, Cadence!” she said happily. “What's up? No,
I'm not doing anything.”

Yes you are,
Emmy thought sadly.

But Lizzy continued the conversation for a few more minutes before hanging
up. Then she continued cutting. Emmy was faced away from the mirror, but it felt to her
like Lizzy was cutting off quite a lot.

“I think you're cutting too much,” she said to Lizzy.
“Let me just see in the mirror.”

Lizzy put the scissors down and put her hands on her hips. “Do you
trust me or not?” she said.

“I trust you,” Emmy lied.

Lizzy continued snipping away, stopping twice to check text messages,
which she smiled at but did not say anything about.

More snipping. A lot more snipping, actually.

“Okay, you can look now,” Lizzy said proudly. And for the next
few moments, everything went in slow motion for Emmy.

She turned around slowly and looked in the mirror. It was a bit dark in
Lizzy's room, but what Emmy saw was plenty. And her reflection made her
scream.

CHAPTER 2

“What, you don't like it?” Lizzy asked blankly, standing next to her in the mirror and looking on. “I think it looks cool.”

Emmy held her hands to her mouth in horror. She was silent but still screaming inside. She barely recognized herself in her reflection.

Her hair was short.
Short
short. It barely touched her shoulders. And there were
bangs
, which she'd never wanted, and had never had.

She could barely speak. “I thought you were just going to trim it,” she croaked.

“Well, you did need a little more than a trim, Em,” Lizzy said calmly.

Emmy could only repeat herself. “I thought you were just going to trim it. I thought you were just going to trim it,” she kept saying, never taking her eyes off her reflection.

“Here, get up,” was all Lizzy said. “Let me clean up all these clumps of old hair.” She brought the towel, now piled with Emmy's hair, into the bathroom, where she shook it into the garbage as if it was something as ordinary and unimportant as kitchen scraps.

Between then and the time they went to bed, time passed in a strange way. Emmy felt totally vulnerable without all her hair. And every time she passed the mirror, she had a horrible feeling inside, like her stomach was melting.

They went downstairs for a snack and to say good night to Lizzy's parents.

“Oh my!” was Marilyn's response. She couldn't keep the shock off her face.

“It looks great, right?” Lizzy said casually, calmly slicing a banana into the blender for a smoothie. “I did it,” she added proudly.

“Well, yes, it's very nice,” Marilyn said. “What do
you
think, Emmy?”

Emmy said nothing as she felt her eyes well up with tears.
I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry,
she told herself. Marilyn must have noticed, though, because she put her hand on Emmy's shoulder and squeezed it. Then she tried to catch Lizzy's eye, but Lizzy was busy with the smoothie.

“You want a purple cow, right?” Lizzy asked Emmy. It was their name for their favorite smoothie, which was made with bananas, frozen blueberries, and soy milk. It was named after the poem they had chanted in first grade:

I never saw a purple cow

I never hope to see one.

But I can tell you anyhow

I'd rather see than
be
one.

They'd loved that poem, and when they first made up the smoothie and admired its purple color, they knew right away what it had to be called. But Lizzy saying “purple cow” now just made Emmy sad. First grade had been so much fun. They had been in the same class and won a jump rope championship. It was all so simple. Both of them had matching long hair then. And they were, as they used to say, “bestest friends.”

Emmy tried to smile. “Sure,” she said as Lizzy got out two glasses and bendy straws. Lizzy turned on the blender and, for a minute, the noise distracted Emmy from her sad thoughts. Lizzy poured some purple cow into each cup and handed Emmy one. They stood at the kitchen counter with Marilyn looking carefully at them both, trying to figure out what to say.

Emmy didn't sleep much that night. She was painfully aware that her hair wasn't spread out across her pillow as usual. Her head felt so funny without the weight of her hair on it. She replayed the haircut scene over and over again in her head. How could Lizzy have cut off so much hair? What had she been thinking? Was she secretly mad at Emmy and trying to do something mean? Emmy tried to think of reasons why Lizzy would be mad at her, but couldn't think of any.

She finally fell asleep and had a terrible dream about giant scissors chasing her around her empty school.

When she woke up in the morning, still half asleep, she remembered the dream. It was interesting that the school had been empty in the dream, because that's sort of how school felt to Emmy these days. Empty of fun, empty of laughter, empty of friends. The other girls she used to be friends with seemed to be less interested in hanging out with her than with Lizzy. And Lizzy was adjusting to her new popularity very naturally.

Lizzy was already downstairs. Emmy was alone, with an odd feeling that she'd missed half the day. The room was filled with late-morning light. For a few wonderful seconds Emmy did not remember the haircut. It was only when she sat up and didn't feel her long hair on her shoulders that she remembered. The thought was like a big
thud
.

She sat up and crawled over to the mirror, where it all came rushing back. It had really happened. It was as real as real could be. She looked like a different person! She started down the stairs slowly, and as she reached the bottom she saw Lizzy heading out the front door.

“Hey,” she said, a little confused. Where was Lizzy going? Weren't they about to have breakfast together?

Lizzy turned around. “Oh, hey,” she said. “I thought I'd let you sleep, sleepyhead. My mom called your mom and told her you'd come home when you got up.”

“Where are you going?” Emmy asked.

“I didn't tell you?” Lizzy asked, distracted.

Emmy saw there was a car outside waiting, but she couldn't tell who was in it. “Tell me what?”

“Cadence and her parents are taking me and Sophie to Manhattan today!” Lizzy squealed. “We're going to go shopping and then see a Broadway show tonight! But first we're going to pick some fresh strawberries at a real farm nearby. They're going to be so delicious.”

“Oh,” Emmy said. She didn't know what else to say. She stood there in her pajamas and short hair, feeling totally idiotic. “Well, have fun.”

“Okay, thanks! Bye!” As Lizzy walked out to the car, Emmy noticed Cadence in the front seat and Sophie in the back. Lizzy shut the car door and did not wave to Emmy.

Emmy went back upstairs to get dressed as quickly as she could. She tried to avoid the mirror this time. What would her mother say? Well, she'd find out soon enough.

On her way out, Emmy passed Lizzy's parents in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Emmy,” Marilyn said when she saw her. “It's too bad Liz had to leave so early, but why don't you sit down and have some breakfast?”

“Thanks,” Emmy mumbled. “But I've gotta get home. Busy day today.” She suddenly couldn't wait to get out of there.

Marilyn gave Emmy a look. “Are you okay, honey?” she asked, her face wrinkled up with concern and sympathy.

“Yeah, thanks,” Emmy said quickly. Marilyn had to know that Emmy was seriously hurt by Lizzy's behavior, but Emmy didn't want to start crying in front of Lizzy's parents. That would be embarrassing. And her new “haircut” was embarrassing enough.

Emmy walked to her house next door. As soon as she let herself in and sat on the couch in the living room, her mom came out of the kitchen and gasped. Emmy put her head in her hands.

“What on earth have you done?” her mother said slowly and quietly, the way she sounded when she was absolutely furious. “What have you done to your beautiful hair? If you wanted a change, why didn't you say anything about it?”

“She said she was just going to trim it!” Emmy cried, and this time she didn't hold back her tears.

Her mom softened and joined Emmy on the couch, taking her into a big warm hug. As Emmy cried and cried, her mom just kept saying “Oh, honey.”

When Emmy finally stopped crying, she rested her head on her mom's shoulder, exhausted.

“Honey, I know those tears can't be just about your hair,” her mom said. “Did something else happen at Lizzy's?”

Again the tears came. Emmy managed to choke out the whole story: how Lizzy wanted to be called Liz and wanted to call her Em or Emma, how she wanted to “update” Emmy's look, how she took off in the morning with her cool new friends with barely a good-bye and definitely didn't want her to join them. Her mom sighed.

“Honey, I'm afraid this is all normal,” she said to Emmy. “You two are at an age where you're growing and changing at different paces and in different ways.”

“You mean Lizzy's more
mature
than me,” Emmy said, and cried even harder.

“No, she's just exploring different interests,” her mom said gently.

“Right,” said Emmy. “Except that she's more mature than me and I'm just a big loser.”

Just then Emmy's seven-year-old brother, Sam, came downstairs in his soccer uniform, stopping short when he saw Emmy's hair. No matter that Emmy was clearly upset and being comforted by their mom, Sam burst into hysterical laughter and pointed to Emmy's hair.

“Really, Sam.” Emmy's mom sighed. “Please. Emmy is obviously upset about this.”

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“Lizzy cut it,” Emmy told him. “She said she was just going to trim it.”

“Oh,” Sam said. He really was trying to be good. He turned and went quietly up the stairs, leaving Emmy and her mom alone again.

Emmy turned to her mom. “You and Marilyn have been best friends forever,” Emmy said. “And I thought Lizzy and I would be best friends forever too. I don't know what's going on. It's like I'm just not cool enough for her anymore.”