“Copper frost for the skin?”
Brittany pursed her lips at her twin’s question. “Only if we go dirrrrrrty blond on top.”
That’s the way she said it, too. Like it was from some idiotic Christina Aguilera song that was cool when we were younger.
“If we go blond, we may need to change the eyes, too.”
“Crystal clear?”
“Here’s an idea,” I said from my seat between them. “How ’bout we leave my hair, skin tone, and eyes the same?”
“Brown, taupe, and brown? Puh-lease.”
“My skin’s not taupe.”
Brittany and Tiffany remained suspiciously quiet.
“Hyperdye for the hair,” Brittany said suddenly. “It’s totally brill. Like who’s gonna believe that she became Hollywood blond overnight? Nobody. But if we hyperdye her, and she changes her hair color like all the time …”
“People will think she’s just releasing her inner cool,” Tiffany completed her twin’s thought. “People are so dumb.”
“Hyperdye?” I asked, trying not to let them push me past the breaking point.
“It’s this totally cool stuff Chloe made for us,” Tiff said. “It like changes colors when you do this thing to it with another one of Chloe’s gadgetmathingies.”
I groaned inwardly, because obviously that incomprehensible (not to mention ungrammatical) sentence cleared everything up. Like, totally.
“So my hair could be blue one day and red the next?” If I was going to have to dye my hair anyway, a punk look was the most I could hope for.
“Blue?”
“Red?”
The twins spoke with identical, horrified tones.
“Toby, you’re a cheerleader. Cheerleaders do not have blue hair.”
“You hyperdye it. I’ll pick the colors.” I wasn’t entirely sure how hyperdye worked, but it seemed like a good compromise to me.
“Maybe hyperdye isn’t such a great idea,” Brittany said slowly, still twitching in horror at the idea of a varsity cheerleader sporting bright blue hair. “Chloe gets kind of mad when we use it recreationally.”
A six-syllable word. Impressive from a twin.
“Can’t we just leave my hair brown?” I asked. “It’s either that or bright red. Your choice.”
For a moment, the twins stared at me, homicide in their little cheerleader eyes, but then, the twin on the left perked up a bit.
“Chocolate brown?” she suggested.
“Or maybe mahogany?”
“Honeysuckle!”
“Ohhh … or we could do mahogany with honeysuckle highlights.”
“Perfect,” they both said at once.
I tried to follow their conversation. “So we’re going with brown, then?”
