The Sleepover – by J
We were pubescent girls, embarking upon a world of makeup and boys. Hormones and emotions ran wild in our group of thirteen-year-old girls. The very sight of any guy could make our hearts beat faster, and you can imagine what an attractive guy would do for us. It was probably these crazy emotions that possessed myself and two of my best friends to go to the sleepover party of a girl who had a certain personality to her character we despised and a certain unbearable stench of body odor. I shall explain: her brother was a 16-year-old god with hair of gold and a muscular physique. I was in love, or lust as I discovered later, and what else can a thirteen-year-old do but pursue in all ignorance?
I spent two hours deciding on my clothes before leaving for the party. Not to mention another hour washing, conditioning and brushing my long auburn hair. It was my pride and joy, and I was truly thankful that puberty had not brought greasiness with it. I knew I had a distinct advantage over my friends in the war for William (who was the object of our affections). My body had matured more rapidly than theirs and I have seen more than a few guys eyeing my chest, their eyes wandering from the perky, upthrust breasts to the shimmering auburn locks that cascade around them down to my slender waist.
At the house, I eyed my friends’ appearances. Not bad, I thought to myself, but not quite as good as mine. I could see from their clothes that they too had sweet Billy on their minds. The night was unspectacular, with Billy coming and going once in a while. Every time he entered the rec room, we were elated, but most of the rest of the time was simply boredom.
By 7 o’clock, we were getting desperate. But by a stroke of genius, someone suggested magic makeovers. Now this would be fun, after all I love makeup! We began with our host for the evening, Kelly. Now Kelly was a bitch, as bitchy (and slutty) as they come. But she lived in Toorak, had an endless supply of cash and would spend it instantly. She was also a classic dumb blonde like you wouldn’t believe it. Now, I was never one to believe in such stereotypes, but with Kelly it was undeniable, despite her not being a natural blonde. Her dry hair reached just past her heavy-set shoulders and she was far from the goddess status. It was often presumed that her brother Billy had taken the brains and the looks. In 20 minutes, we had created the look that suited her most. Her hair was twisted into two pigtails on either side of her head, her lips a sultry rose colour and her eyes covered with green eye shadow.
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Fee (or Fatso Fee as she was sometimes called at school) was next. Fee was a friend and thus I gave her quite a lot of credit. But even to put it nicely, Fee needed some time with Jenny Craig. Without the bulk, she could have been really pretty, but she never did anything about it. Together, the three of us worked on her chin-length hair, weaving her mousy brown hair into tiny plaits that covered her nicely rounded head. Then, we applied glitter dust on her eyes and a musky lipstick as well. She looked ready to party!
Phoebe volunteered and we began. Unlike Fee and Kelly, Phoebe was rather attractive. She was a little short, but pleasant features and shiny brown shoulder-length hair complemented her well. An elegant French chignon was in order and subtle makeup applied. She truly looked dignified and beautiful.
Finally, it was my turn. I didn’t really have any reservations because I had seen the fabulous results on the other girls. I sat down in the chair and awaited my new look with anticipation.
“Emily,” Kelly asked, “What look would you like?”
“I don’t mind,” I replied, as I knew I had the features to carry off practically anything.
A little foundation was applied to my smooth face. A brush of crimson on my cheeks, a wipe of violet on my eyes. Then a delightful lip gloss, the shade of bubblegum, was smeared onto my lips. I looked in the mirror, perfect I thought! Now all that was left was the hairstyle.
“Settle back, Em,” said Fee “We want this to be a really cool surprise.” Boy was that the understatement of the millennium.
I closed my eyes and let my mind drift away with the tunes wafting from the speakers. But I felt an itch on my hand and lifted my other hand to scratch it. To my amazement, my two hands and feet were bound to the chair. Suddenly, masking tape was slapped onto my mouth and my eyes stared at my ‘friends’, petrified. I looked up to Phoebe, and her eyes were downcast as she mouthed, “Sorry, Em.” On the other hand, Fee and Kelly looked as if they were in heaven! The two of them moved my chair in front of Kelly’s full-length mirror, positioning me to see my own transformation.
Kelly’s mother ran a successful hairdressing salon near our school and it seemed that Kelly had saved something for our party.
“Well, you were really patient adding texture to Fee’s hair, so it’s only fair we do the same.” They withdrew a 1-litre bucket, filled with tiny curlers that were the smallest I’ve ever seen.
“Before I knew it, curlers were rolled into my once beautiful locks. I realized that image of my crowning glory was one that I should cherish. The smell of peroxide burned inside my nose and made my eyes water continuously. Even the other girls had to step outside for fresh air. It was extra strong stuff.
When they removed the curlers, my hair wasn’t the same. But it was also not as terrible as they had hoped. From their murmurs, I could tell they had anticipated a dodgy Afro. But it was not to be as my hair had simply settled into shiny ringlets. It was in such good condition, the damage wasn’t even apparent. I knew that something like that would have burned of the already dry, brittle hair of peroxide-Kelly.
“Aw, Em,” Kelly said sarcastically. “It looks like you have some split ends. I guess our little beauty service will be glad to take care of that for you.” I knew this was a lie. I could still see the shimmer in their curls, but there was nothing I could do but open my eyes wider with fear.
Each girl approached with long scissors. I knew what was coming. I was angry at being stripped of my rights, but at the same time I was incredibly turned on. I had never experienced such feelings before, and I was amazed that they would come over hair rather than a male. My hair was grasped in ponytails three clammy hands as close to my head as they could muster. Then, the hacking began. It was thick hair, and I could hear the sounds of the scissors shrieking as they battled my hair. Then I saw a single lock fall from my head and land on my lap. After that, more followed and as they did, tears flowed freely from my eyes.
Fee reached into the box and pulled out electric clippers. I nearly pissed in my pants in anticipation of what would happen. Tossing them between her hands, Fee spoke. “I bet you’re wondering why. In one word: jealousy. We can never be as good as you, in looks, academically, in sports, even in bloody music! And not to mention any hope of us getting guys with you around! We’ve had enough. And we’re going to make you inferior in one aspect, finally!” She was bitter, and I knew it.
Then the door swung open.
“Damn, I should have locked it,” stated Kelly. But in walked Billy.
“Want some desser…” His words ceased to form as his eyes caught sight of me. When he finally regained composure, he walked over to his sister and slapped her.
“You sadistic bitch.” He then took off my bondage and helped me up from the chair. He gently took me out of the room by the hand and I felt the warmth of his hand against mine. We sat on the couch in his room, but there was nothing that I could do to prevent myself from sobbing. There he sat, quietly observing me. Then he put an arm around me and gave me a warm, consoling embrace. I felt the firm muscles of his chest against my body and my heart began to pulsate rapidly.
“I look horrible,” I lamented
“You don’t. You’d look fantastic regardless of what hairstyle you wear.”
“Yeah, but what guy isn’t going to run away in fear from me?” I questioned..
“I wouldn’t. In fact, I’d go out with you in a second.”
I smiled at his kindness and gazed into the depth of his oceanic eyes. Am I hallucinating? I asked myself. Is he serious?
Then he tenderly moved my face in line with his and gave me the softest and sweetest kiss. I returned it, uncertainly at first, then with passion and lust.
“You’re perfect, although you might need a little help with your hair,” Billy said. Hah, that was definitely true. And I remembered the feelings that I had felt within me when the haircut took place. I decided what I wanted.
“Would you be able to fix it for me?”
With his father’s hair clippers, he made passes over my head and yet more tufts of hair tumbled down. But this time, there was no fear. Gentle hands passed over my head, massaging it whilst the clippers moved. As they took their final pass, I noticed my breathing was fast and out of the corner of my eye I saw a bulge in Billy’s pants.
Courageously, I took the clippers out of his hand and pushed him onto his double bed. He looked at me questioningly.
“I know what I want,” he started, “but are you absolutely sure?”
“Yes,” was the only word I said and we made sweet but passionate love under his covers.
That was the day that lust progressed into love and I’ll never forget it. Neither shall I forget Billy, but I don’t have to worry about that. Six years later and we’re still together, brought together by a spiteful plan of vengeance gone wrong.