a ‘cute’ cut for the cute girl

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I got up just for another school day: washed my teeth, ate my breakfast and packed my stuff. I went to school by car which was quite normal for me, but most of my classmates didn’t have that opportunity, going to school by foot. First fact: Money. The idea of having a car automatically gives an idea of money, and that attracts too many guys.

“Hey girl” said my dad while he was driving me to school. “I’ve seen your notes, an ‘A’ is incredible, congrats”.

Second fact: Intelligence. Being sorta smart was nice for me, I handed my assignments very well-done and fast.

Third fact: Popularity. Handing everything in a good way gave me a lot of popularity, always being asked for help with homework and else.


That are three variables that built my life. I was known by everybody and boys loved me, but I liked a boy specialy: Luke. I always had the fantasy of him pulling my long hair on a hard and hot kiss, I guess that’s why I’m growing my hair so compulsively.


“See ya!” my dad said when we got to school.


I left the car sleepy and also tired, that night I had been thinking about my hair for hours. The hair was a precious object that I cared a lot, waiting for THAT moment.


The first class I had to take it was History, with Professor Michaels. But she wasn’t reaching school. It was fifteen minutes after the class had to start when Head Lopez came into the salon. But I didn’t know it, I was sleeping silently and pleasantly.


I woke up suddenly with Luke watching me, in front of me, sitting on next chair. I automatically shooked my head to my sides but nobody was there. Just me and him.

“Hahaha.” I said carefully “I think I should go”

I tried to move but my hands and feet were strictly tied to the chair.

“Oh, dear. You’re not going anywhere.”


He started looking for something at his backpack, he looked very determinated as he was searching it with such hard desire.

“I guess you can imagine what goes next.” I didn’t. A clipper sound scared me. “Now you know, just a cute cut for the cute girl”

Cute cut.


He started cutting the sides at one inch. The locks this morning were lucious now looked like little pointy things. I started to freak out.

“Shut up.”

I did.


My eyes started hurting since I tried not to cry: I had been growing my hair for at least three years without haircuts and it was taken from me all of a suden.


“No.” he whispered “Since you didn’t shut up, your hair is shorter.”


I jumped in my chair when I hear the heavy buzz of the clippers and that clearly meant buzzcut.

“It was obvious, I said a crew cut, you heared cute cut? Ha!”


My tears starting rolling by my cheeks, falling to my lap and wetting all my hair. The clippers touched my scalp and I held my breath. A seconds later, after shaving all my sides and back till my ear, he touched my head, that had my scalp fully clean. Shaved at zero, leaving my scalp alone, just 1/8. My head had almost no hair but I knew this wasn’t all: if all hair (or all nothing) was zero, there must be something shorter in marine crew cuts.


He took a gillette kind razor and started.

Scrub, scrub, scrub.


“You are free, shortest crew cut ever.”
I didn’t want to trust him, but shit it was.



I was completely humillated: never slept in class again. Since he put oil on my scalp, hair never grew again.

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