Page 136 of Terms Of Un-Endearment
My palms, however, have the same purple hue as the water that’s drained away. I scan the shower, searching for the source of the color, then grab my shampoo and dump it into my palm. It comes out so dark purple, it’s almost black.
I run from the shower to the mirror and wipe away the steam. As my face appears, so does my worst nightmare. I’m not a ginger anymore. I’m Barney the Dinosaur.
“Piper!”
I scrub my hand through my hair and a rivulet of lavender water runs down my cheek.
“Piper!” I grab a towel and start squeezing water out of my hair while also rubbing it so hard I leave behind a beach ball-size purple stain on the gray towel.
“Piper!” I scream this time.
A few seconds later, I hear her on the other side of the door. “Everything okay in there, Archie?”
I wrap the towel around my waist and throw open the door. “You know it’s not! How do I get this color out of my hair?”
Piper’s eyes dart from my chest to my head, and she bites her lip. Then she laughs.
Uncontrollably.
So hard, in fact, she can’t talk.
“You think this is funny? Turning my hair purple?”
She nods. “It’s even…funnier with your…red face.” The words come out between gasps for breath and end in a volcano of laughter.
I slam the door in her face, then study myself in the mirror again. My face turns a darker shade of maroon when I realize she’s right about how funny I look.
“This is war, Piper!” I open a cabinet and grab a bottle ofrealshampoo.
“It’s a temporary dye. It will wash out in a couple weeks,” she says through the door, still laughing. “Unless you keepaccidentallydying it.”
I swing open the door, clutching the shampoo and my towel. “Did you sabotage all my shampoo?”
Her smile disappears and her face turns to stone. “We can end this right now. Sign the papers, and you’ll never have to worry about it happening again. You can stay for the two weeks you need, and I’ll know that Malcolm’s not leaving Mom empty-handed.”
We lock eyes in a silent standoff before I ease the door shut.
After verifying my new bottle of shampoo is dye-free, I wash my hair three times, but in the minutes I wasted having Piper laugh in my face, the color seems to have set. It’s not coming out.
When I finally leave the bathroom, not only is my hair the shade of a Lakers jersey, but my hands and temples are too. Which wouldn’t be so bad if it were playoff season. I enjoy going to Lakers' games and cheering them on. But there’s a fine line between being a superfan who dyes his hair for the playoffs and being a weirdo superfan who dyes his hair in the off-season.
I come out of the bathroom wearing only a towel. I don’t want purple dye staining my clothes, too. Piper is on the far side of the kitchen table sketching. She looks at me, then steals a second glance. I don’t miss the smile she tries to hide. It’s the same one she had the last time she saw me in a towel, and it’s got nothing to do with what she’s done to my hair.
As cheesed off as I am about my hair, I can’t resist readjusting my towel a bit lower on my hips. I’ve worked hardfor these abs. They deserve some admiration, even if it’s from my nemesis.
“I put together one of those dinners in the fridge if you want some.” She pushes up from the table and walks to the oven, where she pulls out a plate. “I kept it warm for you.”
She sets it on the table in front of me and smiles up at me.
We’re close enough to touch. My stomach growls. At least, I think it’s my stomach. Every part of me is hungry right now.
“As if I’d trust you.” I force the words out and lick my lips.
“It’s a peace offering.” Piper’s hand darts to my cheek, where she brushes away a drop of water with the tip of her thumb.
My breath hitches with her touch. Her eyes widen as though she’s suddenly realized what she’s done, and with a deep blush she steps back.
I wipe my knuckle across my cheek where I still feel the softness of her skin. I take a deep breath to steady my skittering pulse.
