Tony
Summer Jones, with her long blonde waves, was a picture of youthful exuberance, her laughter carrying on the warm summer breeze as she lounged next to the pool in the backyard. She had a way of making the world seem like a lazy summer day, her eyes sparkling with the promise of a bright and carefree day. She had not a care in the world today. And in a week she’d be off to college to major in something or another.
That was her plan until her mother, Silvia, disapproving and annoyed with her daughter’s blatant disregard for preparing for college or anything to be honest, decided that since her daughter wanted to act like an entitled child whom expected her parents to handle everything for her journey to college, that she’d treat her like so.
Come up behind Summer, Silvia made a noise to gain her daughter’s attention. “Summer dear we need to head out and get some more things for you for college.” Silvia told Summer sternly.
Summer sighed heavily, lifting her sunglasses to look at her mother. “But mom, I’ve got everything,” she protested, her voice thick with disinterest.
“You need more dresses and winter related clothes. Since your father and I won’t be home for your winter break. You’ll have to stay at your dorm this year.” Siliva reminded her daughter, holding on to the last of her patience with the girl.
Summer rolled her eyes, sliding her sunglasses back onto her nose. “Fine, but can’t we just order it online?” she asked, hoping to avoid the dreaded shopping trip.
“Absolutely not. I want to make sure they fit right and we get exactly what you need. So let’s go. Times a wasting.” Silvia told her, nudging her out of the pool chair.
Summer groaned as she stood up, the coldness of the concrete poolside seeping into the bottoms of her feet. She looked down at her bikini-clad body, already feeling self-conscious about the shopping trip. Her mother had always had high standards when it came to appearance, something Summer had never quite understood.
“Come on, put some clothes on,” Silvia urged, already dressed in her pristine white sundress, her makeup perfectly applied.
Summer reluctantly slipped into her flip flops and made her way into the house, the chilly air-conditioning a stark contrast to the outside heat. She threw on a pair of her boyfriend’s basketball shorts and a loose white shirt over her bikini. She knew her mother would disapprove of the outfit. But Summer knew she’d be in clothing stores most of the day and wanted to feel comfortable.
In the car, the tension was palpable. Silvia’s eyes darted between the road and her daughter’s outfit, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel. “You know, Summer, you really need to start thinking about how you present yourself. You’re going to college soon, and you want to make a good impression,” she said, her voice tight.
Summer rolled her eyes again, leaning her head against the window. “I’ll be fine, Mom. I’m just going to be me,” she replied, the cool glass muffling the sound of her words.
As the made it into town, Silvia turned onto Main Street instead of continuing on the highway to the more upscale clothing stores they normally visited.
When Summer noticed the change of direction, she looked out the window shield in confusion. “Where are we going mom? The stores are on the highway.”
Silvia’s mouth thinned into a line as she pulled into a parking spot infront of Indomitable Clippers, the city’s lone barbershop. She parked and turned off the car, before getting out. “Come along Summer. This is our first stop of errands today.”
Summer sat in the car, bewildered. “But mom, this is a barbershop…”
“I know what it is, Summer. Now get out, we’re going in,” Silvia said, her voice leaving no room for argument.
Summer stepped out of the car, the sun beating down on her. She took in the barbershop’s exterior, the red, white, and blue barber pole spinning lazily outside the door. The thought of her mother taking her to get a haircut at such a place was ludicrous. She had always gotten her hair done at the fancy salon down the street from their house, the one with the gold letters and the plush seats. But she followed her mother inside, the coolness of the barbershop a welcome reprieve from the heat.
Once Summer had made her enterance, Silvia, whom was already sitting in the waiting area, told her to grab a number slip and sit down.
Summer took a number slip from the dispenser and sit next to her mother. Her gaze looked around the barber ship, taking in the photos of men with various short haircuts, posters of sport teams, and even some military inspired posters. There was only one barber today. A man a few yesrs older than Summer, the man had a no nonsense aura about him. In his chair was a guy around Silvia’s age getting what little hair he had left buzzed into a sharp and level high and tight flattop.
Summer felt out of place, surrounded by the faint scent of aftershave and the hum of electric clippers. The barber caught her eye and nodded a greeting before returning his attention to his current client.
“Mom, what’s going on?” she whispered, leaning towards Silvia.
Silvia’s expression was unyielding. “We’re here to get you a sensible haircut, Summer. Something that says ‘I’m ready for college’.”
Summer’s jaw dropped. “What? No way. I’m not cutting my hair!” Her protest echoed in the small space, the buzz of the clippers momentarily pausing.
Silvia’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to college looking like you just rolled out of bed. You need a mature, respectable look. And that starts with a haircut,” she said firmly.
Summer’s hand flew to her hair, her heart racing. “But, Mom, it’s my hair!” she exclaimed, her voice carrying the panic that was now bubbling inside her. “And I like it the length it is” she added sourly.
Silvia’s eyes met hers, unyielding. “You’re not going to college looking like a beach bum,” she said. “You need to start acting like the young lady we raised you to be.”
Summer felt the color drain from her face as the barber finished up the man’s haircut and called for the next number. Her number was called, and she knew what was coming. She didn’t move. Silvia stood up, her eyes still on Summer. “We’re here to get you ready for the real world,” she said. “This is a small part of that. Now come on.” Her mother added sternly.
With a deep breath, Summer approached the chair, her flip flops slapping against the floor. The barber looked up, his eyes taking in her disheveled beach look. “What’ll it be, Miss?” he asked, sweeping the last of the previous customers hair into the trash bin.
As Summer sat down in the chair, Silvia was eyeballing the various photos and posters on the wall. “My daughter is heading to college in a week and is in need of a respectful and mature haircut.” Silvia told the barber as her eyes landed on a photo of a man in military clothing sporting a sharp abd level high and tight flattop.
The barber nodded, understanding the unspoken request in Silvia’s gaze. “Alright, what do you have in mind for her?” He asked throwing the cape around Summer and securing it around her neck tightly.
Silvia pointed to the photo she was staring at. “This will do nicely. Since she seems to want to dress like a boy at time. Might as well have her hair resemble one.”
Summer’s eyes went wide with horror as she looked in the mirror. “Mom, no! That’s not what I want!” she protested, trying to stand up. But the barber’s firm grip on the chair kept her in place.
Silvia’s voice was calm but firm. “Summer, sit down. You need to understand that sometimes, we make sacrifices for the greater good. And this is one of those times,” she said, her hand on Summer’s shoulder pushing her back into the chair.
The barber, sensing the tension, offered a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Miss. It’ll just be a good change,” he said, hoping to ease the situation. But Summer was having none of it.
“Mom, I can’t go to college with a boy’s haircut!” she protested, her eyes brimming with tears.
Silvia’s grip tightened. “You’re going to sit there and get the haircut I chose for you, young lady,” she said, her voice like steel. “Now, tell him what you want,” Silvia told Summer sternly.
Summer gulped, looking up at the barber. “I want the hairstyle in that photo please sir,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.
The barber nodded and turned to get the right clippers for the job. Summer could feel her mother’s eyes on her, a mix of disapproval and determination. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. She felt the coldness of the clippers against the back of her neck and heard the buzzing as he began to shave off her long locks. The sound grew louder with every pass he made, and she felt the weight of her hair getting lighter and lighter.
Summer’s eyes filled with tears, and she could feel them trickling down her cheeks. The sensation was strange and uncomfortable, as if she were losing a part of herself. The barber worked quickly and methodically, not saying a word, and she wondered if he was used to giving such extreme makeovers to unwilling customers. With each lock of hair that fell to the floor, she felt more and more exposed, like her mother was stripping away her identity along with her hair.
Silvia sat in the chair next to her, her eyes never leaving the mirror. She had a look of satisfaction on her face that only grew as Summer’s hair got shorter and shorter. The buzz of the clippers was the only sound in the barbershop. They had gone from a mother-daughter shopping trip to a battleground, and Summer could feel the tension in every snip.
When the barber finally stepped back, Summer opened her eyes to see a stranger staring back at her. Her once flowing blonde hair was now a mere shadow of its former self, buzzed short on top of her head to look like a flat surface and shaved close to her head high at the back abd sides. It was a style that was unmistakably masculine. She looked like she’d just enlisted in the military. She didn’t recognize herself.
The barber stepped aside, and Silvia took his place, her gaze scrutinizing. “Much better,” she said with a nod, the tension in the air thickening. Summer could feel the heat of her mother’s disapproval, but she was too stunned to speak. Her hands shot up to her head, feeling the short hair that was left. It was like touching a stranger’s head.
Summer’s eyes filled with tears as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. “Mom, I hate it,” she whispered. But Silvia just took out her credit card and paid for the haircut without a word.
As they left the barbershop, Summer felt the sting of betrayal. She had never felt more embarrassed in her life. The eyes of passersby lingered on her, and she couldn’t help but feel like a spectacle. Silvia, however, walked with a renewed sense of purpose, her head held high as if she had just conquered something significant.
The rest of their trip went by smoothly in Dilvia’s opinion. Summer got new dresses and winter wear, all of which showcased her new high and tight flattop quite nicely.
When they reached home, Summer took her new clothes to her room and locked her door behind her. The first thing she did was video call her boyfriend, Sam.
“Oh my god, Summer, what happened to your hair?” Sam’s voice was filled with shock and a look of something seemed to flash across his face that Summer could identify.
Summer felt a fresh wave of humiliation wash over her as she stared into the camera. “My mom took me to get it cut,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sam’s expression softened, his eyes filled with concern. “It looks… different,” he said, trying to be supportive. But Summer could hear the unspoken question in his voice: “What happened?”
“Different isn’t the word,” she muttered, turning the camera to show the severe cut from various angles. “My mom decided I needed to look more ‘mature’ for college,” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm.
Sam’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s… intense,” he said, trying to find the right words.
There’s was a brief silence between them, before Sam scratched the back of her head. “Hey you called me at a bad time. I have to go help my mom with some things.”
Summer nodded, feeling a knot in her stomach. “It’s okay,” she said, trying to keep the sadness out of her voice. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, definitely,” Sam said quickly before hanging up. Summer set her phone down on her bed, staring at the wall. Her hand reached up to feel her hair again, the short bristles prickling her fingertips. She felt like an imposter in her own skin, and the betrayal of her mother’s actions stung deeper with every passing minute.
She stayed like that for a few hours, before her phone started lighting up with notifications. When she looked at them, she was shocked to see they were from a photo post. The photo was a before and after photo taken outside a barbershop, aimed at the customer in the chair. As Summer zoomed in out the person, she was shocked to see it was her. It showed her sitting in the chair with her long wavy hair and her in the chair with her new flattop.
The comments were flooding in, mostly from people she didn’t know, praising her new look and calling her brave. But amidst the strangers, she saw one from a old classmate of her’s. “Oh my god! Is that Summer Jones?”
Summer felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. She had never been one to seek out the spotlight, especially not like this. She quickly reported the post and turned off her phone, unable to bear the weight of the attention. She threw herself on her bed, the softness of her pillow doing nothing to soothe the ache in her heart.
Her thoughts swirled around in a tornado of anger and despair. Why had her mother done this to her? Was she really that disappointed in her? Summer had always felt like she was never enough for Silvia. Her grades weren’t perfect, she didn’t have a clear-cut career path, and she certainly didn’t look the part of the poised college student Silvia had always dreamed of. But this felt like a declaration of something.
Summer fell asleep due to emotional exhaustion. When she woke, she turned on her phone and saw more and more people had commented on the post. Her close friends had said that she probably done something to deserve it. Even Sam commented that whatever she did, he wanted no part of it.
That lead her to checking her messages and finding a message from Sam breaking up with her. “I’m sorry to gave to do this like this. But I can’t be with some dyke chick. I hope you understand. You was very beautiful…when you had hair.” Was what the message said, which made Summer feel like someone had stabbed a white-hot poker through her heart.
Summer’s world spun as she read the message over and over, trying to make sense of the words. Her eyes blurred with tears as she realized that her mother’s humiliating gesture had cost her the person she loved most. The betrayal was too much to handle. She felt like screaming, but the sound was trapped in her throat, a silent scream echoing through the emptiness of her room.
As the week passed, Summer rarely was seen out of her room. Then on the day before she was to leave for college, Silvia busted through her door and entered her room. “Enough is enough young lady. This toddler act needs to stop. You are a grown woman. You need to learn that not ever relationship will last and that fine. Now come on. You have an appointment today.”
Summer looked up from her bed, her eyes red from crying. “What appointment?”
“Never mind what it’s about. Get up, get dressed, and get a move on it.” Silvia told her with a tone of authority.
Summer felt a storm of emotions brewing inside her, but she knew arguing with her mother in this state was futile. She slowly got dressed in one of her new outfits, feeling the fabric of the dress brush against her now stubbly neck, a constant reminder of her new reality.
The car ride was silent as Summer pondered what the appointment was. Silvia once again turned onto Main Street abd parked infront of Indomitable Clippers. “Come along dear.” She told Summer sternly, getting out of the car abd walking into the shop.
Summer’s heart sank. She couldn’t handle another haircut. The last one had been bad enough. But she followed her mother inside, the familiar scent of aftershave greeting her. The same barber was there, and when he saw her, he grinned. “Brought her back for a tidying up?” He asked Silvia, whom just nodded and sat down in the waiting area. “Okay girlie come on back.” The barber told Summer, with a wide grin.
Summer took a deep breath, trying to ignore the whispers from the other customers, and followed him. He sat her down in the chair, the coldness of the leather sending shivers down her spine. “What’s your mother have in store for you today?” He asked, his voice jovial despite the tension in the room.
“I’m thinking you should just take it all down to the wood as they say.” Silvia’s voice came from the waiting area. Everyone heard her looked at Summer in shock. The barber just nodded and grabbed his balding clippers from the hook. “One cueball special coming up.” He said snapping on the clippers and running them straight down the middle of Summer’s head, peeling away the small growth on top of her head to reveal the white scalp below it all its glory.
Summer sat frozen, too stunned to protest. The buzz grew louder as the barber worked his way around her head, reducing her hair to a uniform stubble. She could feel the heat of the room, the judgmental eyes on her, and the cold metal of the clippers against her skin. Her eyes watered from the shock and pain of the situation, not the actual cut.
When all the hair on her head was a fine stubble. The barber lathered up her whole head abd using a straight razor, proceeded to shave that away, leaving Summer with a bald smooth head.
Summer couldn’t believe what she was seeing in the mirror. She felt naked, exposed, and utterly destroyed. She wanted to scream, to run out of the barbershop and never look back. But instead, she remained still, her eyes locked on the unfamiliar reflection.
“It’ll be okay, Miss,” the barber said, mistaking her silence for fear. He patted her shoulder reassuringly. “You’ll get used to it. It’s a clean look. Very Mr. Clean if i say so myself.” He joked as he removed the cape from around her.
After her mother paid and they left, Summer swore she would never let anyone have control of her hair or her life ever again.
She departed to college, full of angry and resentment. But even that didn’t last the months that followed and the growth of her hair, even as small as it was.
By the time winter break came around her hair had grown out to a fine 2inches long. Though she was happy with the growth, she was not happy with the fact she couldn’t get it to do anything she wanted it to do.
