Right. So, I know from experience you don’t want to cross Amber when she’s mad. And, oh, is she MAD. When I walked into the school this morning, I was NOT ready for Amber’s anger. Echoing slamming of locker doors, incoherent jumbled mumbling, scowling at everything, like if she could, she WOULD stab it. Yeah, not on a Monday morning, thanks. She’s not facing me, so I have about five minutes before her furious glare spots me and I am officially screwed.

So, of course I just stand there like an idiot, trying to figure out what exactly has ticked her off this time. Amber shoves students out of her way as she passes down the hall, and now I have to play facilitator.

“Amber? Hey, Amber!” I call, running after her, giving each person she’s pushed an apologetic look.

She whips around, snarling, “What?!”

“Yeah, so…Kay. What, uh, happened?” I ask, caught off guard by her…um, new hairstyle.

See, normally, Amber’s long hair cascades down her face, like a waterfall. Lots of people admire it, straight, light brown, and, somehow, almost shiny. Today, however, anyone can clearly see it’s been chopped off, as if a five-year old had been given a LITTLE too much power over the scissors.

“God, what did they DO to you?”

“Hello to you too, Luis!” She retorts.

“Bold style choice, huh?”

“Shut up, or you get punched in the face.”

“Not if I call the principal.”

“Not if I kick you in the stomach AND punch you in the mouth.”

“Not if…Wait! Sidetracked! Explain?”

She relents, pausing in her path of molten carnage, terrified students scurrying away like mice.

“SOMEONE thought it’d be SO NICE if I CHANGED UP MY HAIRSTYLE!” Her patience lasted maybe thirty seconds before she started screaming, “So SOMEONE grabbed some scissors and HAD AT IT, LIKE MY HAIR WAS AN ART PROJECT!”

I wince, “Stella?”

“I AM MURDERING HER AND A KNIFE WILL BE INVOLVED!” She screeches, earning concerned and horrified looks from the student body.

“Ah, maybe not the wisest of choices?” I suggest, timid, as I know I’m next if I misstep.

“Maybe, but the other option is to convince my parents to get rid of her, and that’s too much work, since Stella, apparently, CAN DO NO WRONG!” Amber says, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Stella is Amber’s younger sister. That’s…kind of all that’s needed to be said.

“You should take this opportunity to dye it.” I offer helpfully.

And then she DOES punch me.