Paige’s Mix

I had choir with Simon. He was the tall guy, funny and private with his feelings. We rarely spoke to one another until one day he gave me a mix cd, and all of the songs on it were romantic. I thought it meant that he liked me or something, so I took my time deciding how to respond. He was a senior and I was a sophomore.

No older guy had ever been interested in me before, and I still didn’t feel as if I’d ever developed much of my own identity for a guy to be interested in. My healthy red hair hung down to my waist. Never once had I thought of changing my style. This was how my mom liked it, and I did like having pretty hair. I never stepped out in the style department, except for the time I got my ears pierced, just last year, long after all of my peers had gotten theirs done.

So I thought about Simon all week, nothing but Simon. Flattered by his interest, I was eager to see how far it could reach. In the cafeteria, I watched him from a distance. His group respected him and Tanya seemed to have her eye on him, but he made a mix for me… and we hadn’t spoken since. I chalked it up to shyness.

I decided to ask him out, and talked to my parents about it. They agreed to allow me to date a boy, but they would have to meet him first. Simon was bound to see the short leash they had me on… With that in mind, I felt as if everything I’d ever done was to please my parents. They didn’t force me to get good grades and dress modestly, but I knew they wanted me to.

The next day in choir I asked Simon if he wanted to hang out sometime, maybe play a game at my house… with my family. He said maybe sometime and I gave him my number. He said he’d call me. And there it was. The ball was in his court. If he wanted anything to do with me, he could call me. Otherwise I would never have to worry about it again. But what kind of guy would really want to spend the night hanging out with my parents?

That night I washed my hair and experimented with my make-up, trying to look more grown-up. Simon didn’t call and all week he had lunch with Tanya. Tanya’s parents let her wear whatever she wanted. She also had the longest hair in school. I thought maybe if I grew my hair longer, Simon would like me more.

The next day, Tanya came to school with her hair cut radically short, like a pixie cut but mostly buzzed. She had the shortest hair in school now, and Simon wouldn’t stop looking at her. To everything she said and did, it looked like Simon thought it was the greatest thing ever. Then he touched the fuzz on the back of her head, where her scalp shown through. I saw the pleasure in his touch. It was the short hair that turned him on. And I now had the longest hair in school.

And he could have been mine, if only my parents hadn’t been so controlling. That night I walked past the living room where they were watching CNN with their feet on the tweed ottoman, and I couldn’t even look into their stupid faces without a betraying a shade of hatred. And I hated myself too. I should have gotten Simon’s number. Then I could have asked him earlier whether or not he actually liked me as much as he made me think he did. Why else would he make me a mix? Was it because maybe later in life, he might be interested in me, once I was more influenced by his emo taste in music?

I locked the door of my room and put on his mix, wanting to die. Never again would I leave this room. Not until something changed, even if that change meant me being dead. Death would be such an appropriate punishment for being so stupid and letting him go to Tanya instead of me. But it wasn’t my fault. It was my parents. But they didn’t own me. We didn’t even have to be friends. They couldn’t stop me from sneaking out or emaciating myself. They couldn’t force me not to date a man if I truly wanted to. But it wasn’t just my parents. It was Tanya’s hair that put the nail in my coffin.

But who was to say I couldn’t have short hair? Tanya had the longest hair in school and now she has the shortest. Just like I now had the longest hair in school, I could return with hair shorter than Tanya’s.

I crept back into the living room and sat next to my mom. She was build like me, but not quite as skinny. Her red hair was excessively long just like mine.

“What’s going on, Paige?” she asked. Usually I was in bed by now.

“Well, Mom…” I said, feeling weak in the gently inquiring glare of my parents. But I couldn’t chicken out. “Well, Mom. I want to get my hair cut. Short.”

“Oh no.” She frowned. “You’re still my little girl. Can’t you just wait until you move out? You’re not going to be my little girl forever. Can’t you please just keep your hair long while you live with me and Dad? You know, Grandma likes your hair long.”

I gaped at her ridiculous rationale and countered, “Mom. You can’t stop me from cutting my hair.”

She lifted her chin and answered, “You’re right. I can’t. But I’m not going to take you to get it done and I’m not going to pay for it.”

“Dad!” I whined, failing to sound appealing as I begged him to back me up, “You won’t let me get a job and you won’t let me ride my bike around town by myself. It’s not fair.”

Dad testily put down his newspaper and explained with smug confidence, “Paige, dear. A big haircut can take a long time to grow out. Why don’t you find a way to make some money. By then, you’ll have had some time to think about whether or not you really want to do it.”

“And then what? You always side with Mom.” I accused.

“Well, we’ll have to talk about it.” Dad reasoned, “First, we should know. How short do you want to cut your hair?”

He had me there. If I was going to be the girl with the shortest hair in school, I was going to need some kind of a buzz cut, at nowhere longer than a half inch. My parents would never go for something so extreme, but then it occurred to me. I could just shave my head with a razor at home, then it would grow out into a buzz cut. That would be free, and I could do it at home, and nobody could stop me.

“You know, Dad. I’ll have to think about it. I guess you’re right. A big haircut is a big decision. Sorry for being such a brat.”

“It’s okay, honey.” He said.

“Goodnight. I love you.” I said to my parents and gave them each a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Again, I locked my door. Sitting in my personal bathroom, I draped a towel over my shoulders and let my long hair fall forward, onto my lap.

I opened a fresh pack of the Gilette shavers I used on me legs, and sat them on the counter. Quickly, I put my hair into a ponytail, and pulled out a big pair of scissors. Holding the scissors, I looked at myself in the mirror. It occurred to me that I was just throwing a fit. I didn’t have to do this.

It didn’t matter if Simon wanted me or not. Mom and Dad could dictate my life forever. How bad would that be? But if I did go through with this… I would be a bad ass. Mom and Dad would never tell me how to dress or wear my hair again. And Simon… He wasn’t in an official thing with Tanya. And I didn’t need my hair. It’s not like I was using it for anything. All I had to do was get rid of it and Simon would be mine.

I loosened the ponytail at the back of my head and held my huge scissors between my head and the hair tie, which I would not be needing for a long time. I still wore the make-up I’d had at school, just enough to keep me from looking like a child. But I wasn’t a child. Mom and Dad couldn’t control me. And to prove it, I sliced through my ponytail.

It took several cuts to get through it, but I did it and lost my breathe as my shortened mess of hair sprung free. Ninety percent of my hair was gone and it looked terrible. But I’d made my point and I’d made a big change. My instincts tried to coax me into stopping where I was. With this terrible cut, Mom would have to take me to the salon to fix it, but it would never be short enough. I had to get to shaving.

Quickly, I chopped away my remaining hair, as short as the scissors would go. I leaned forward so most of the clippings fell on the floor. My beautiful red locks covered the floor and piled about my ankles. Within minutes I’d chopped my hair so short it didn’t hang over my ears and forehead. It just stuck up wherever it wanted and in some spots it was shorter than a buzz cut. In the mirror, I looked so small with so much of me gone. I blew a few scattered clippings from my nose and set my teeth. No turning back. There would be nothing about this haircut that wasn’t extreme. Everyone will think I went crazy. But what’s wrong with being a little crazy sometimes? They were the ones who were crazy. I didn’t need my hair. It didn’t bear thinking about.

I put a squirt of vanilla shaving gel on my hand and rubbed it into the side of my head. Then I popped the guard of my shaver and gently scraped away at my scalp, and wiped chunks of short, wet hair onto my towel. The shaved spot of my head was so cold. It tickled when I touched it, a sensation I’d never known before. Most girls would never know. I wondered why it was that everyone didn’t shave their heads at least one time. I had five shavers in total, so I tried to get a quarter of the way through my head before switching to a fresh one.

My scalp surprised me with its softness, so white it made my hair look dark. Careful not to lacerate myself, I worked for nearly an hour before shaving the top of my head. The sides and back of my head were bald and white and, god, sensational. I looked at myself in the mirror and imagined the bald sex I might have, filling my head with the sounds of Simon’s pleasure as he rammed his cock into me. How I wanted to give him pleasure. I massaged the scruff of my bush, wishing someone would lust for me. I stuck a finger into my wet cunt. Stifling a whimper, I resolved to wait until I was done with the task at hand. It would all be better once I was shaved.

Starting at the crown of my head, I worked my way forward until all I had left was a little tuft, tipping what would have been my widow’s peak. So without further event, as if nothing could stop me now that I was going, I scraped off the last tuft. But my blade still had some life in it. I had spent almost two hours shaving my head and I was in shaving mode. Nothing else made sense but to pull off my panties and shave my pubes. They came off so easily.

I stood naked before the mirror, totally hairless, admiring the shape of my eyes and the shape of my ears which Simon would be nibbling at, and the shape of my jaw which Simon would gently brush with his lips. But I still had so much hair. On my eyebrows. So I shaved them and stared at myself and it felt as if I had finally killed myself. If there was any sort of lashing out that needed to be done in my adolescence, I had done it. For the rest of my years in this little town, I would either be a freak or a hero. And hopefully, maybe still have a chance with Simon.

I rinsed myself in the shower and nuzzled my bed spread. Digging my baldness into the down pillows, I touched myself until the sun peaked over the neighborhood. And I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to quicken the pace with which I would come to confront my mom… or the world. They would know I wasn’t such a boring, obedient girl and that overnight I became a total freak.

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