16-year-old Shane was a rebel, he stole and vandalized whatever he wanted.
His parents couldn’t do anything about his behavior and had given up trying to talk some sense into him.
Right now, Shane raced down the street, adrenaline coursing through his veins as the sound of motorcycles revved behind him.
He had taken a couple of pictures with a nice-looking motorcycle, only to push it over by accident.
He knew there was no way he could outrun them.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the hulking figures of the bikers gain on him.
Desperate, he searched the street frantically for a place to hide, and that’s when he spotted a open gate to a private girls’ school.
Without thinking, he slipped in, and quickly snagged a uniform that hung on a clothes line.
Realizing he needed a better disguise, he quickly removed his hair tie, twisted his waist-length hair into a bun, and hoped he wouldn’t be noticed.
He was wrong.
Suddenly, a teacher approached him, thinking he was a student, and harshly reprimanded him for not following the school rules.
He tried to argue and talk his way out, but she did not give him a chance to explain himself and instead dragged him behind her.
The building she was dragging him to had a sign reading “Campus Cuts”.
The teacher shoved Shane into the chair, and the hairdresser, a middle-aged woman with a tight bun, put a cape around him.
The hairdresser took out the hair tie, let down his bun, and was astonished by the amount of hair.
After brushing the massive amount of hair, she gathered it into a thick ponytail at the base of his neck and secured it again with his hair tie.
Shane’s eyes were drawn to the shiny steel scissors that glinted in the hairdresser’s fingers. He swallowed and looked away.
He felt the cold scissors at the base of his nape, followed by the sickening crunching sound of the scissors, and short stands of hair started to brush against his cheeks.
Shane sat there, scared and confused, while the hairdresser snipped away at his hair, severing his ponytail with each squeeze of the scissors.
Once the last strand was severed and his ponytail was freed, he slowly opened his eyes again.
The hairdresser held his ponytail high, like a trophy, and then dropped it into a nearby waste bin.
The scissors clipped and sliced through his remaining hair, shortening it more and more.
Shane’s heart clenched as he saw his hair slowly disappear with each snip.
The hair in the front ended at the corner of his mouth and was angled upwards to the back of his head.
The hairdresser set down the scissors and picked up a pair of clippers, flicked them on, tilted his head forward, until his chin touched his chest, and pushed the vibrating machine up the back of his head.
She repeated this until the entire back was nice and short and barely any hair remained. She switched the clippers off after she was satisfied.
The hairdresser tilted Shane’s head back up, brushed a portion of his hair over his face, and picked the scissors back up again.
His heart pounded almost in his throat as he felt the scissors on his forehead and saw the falling hairs drifting down onto the cape.
As the hairdresser was finished and removed the cape, Shave’s legs felt like pudding, and he could barely stand up.
In not even one hour, his entire appearance had changed, from a long-haired rebel to a total feminine-looking student sporting an A-line bob with straight bangs and a shaved undercut.
His eyes wandered from his mirror image to the hairdresser, who was sweeping up the last remains of his once long hair.
The teacher thanked the hairdresser and grabbed Shane’s arm again, dragging him behind her in the direction of the main building.
Up some stairs and down a corridor, they stopped. The teacher knocked and announced that she had found a straggler from this class, and she shoved Shane into the classroom.
Shane looked up and saw rows of fourteen-year-old girls, all with the same haircut as him.
The students greeted him happily, and Shane needed to come up with a fake name on the spot.
He introduced himself as Sarah and fabricated a story why he was late.
Maybe he would be able to make it through the school day without being found out, but even if he did, he still had to look for a way to get out of school.
