Fictober Prompt 5: "I'm not saying I told you so..."
Psychic Scouts Shouldn't Apply Hair Dye Unsupervised
"I'm not saying I told you so…."
"Cram it, Norma."
Lizzie ignored her sister's snickering. She pulled the ends of her hair and glared at her reflection. She muffled her grumbling behind her pursed lips, wishing she had a psychic ability to turn back time.
In the lodge bathroom, Lizzie Natividad was dealing with a catastrophe. The sink was caked in wet handprints and soapy suds. Hair dye smeared the mirror and the sides of the faucet. The air smelled of cheap toxins circling their heads as Lizzie had insisted on keeping the door locked. The last thing Lizzie needed was Chef Cruller or Coach Oleander barging inside and seeing their latest antics that would have wounded them up in the GPC.
Norma clicked her tongue and folded her arms. "Lizzie, didn't I say this would happen?" she asked, chuckling.
"And didn't I say cram it five seconds ago? Pretty sure I did. Better clean the wax out of your ears," Lizzie hissed through her teeth.
She ignored Norma's sigh and focused on her hair. What should have been a simple DIY hair dye job turned into a nightmare. She had underestimated the amount of hair dye left in the bottle. Because of her miscalculation, she had smeared an unsightly circle of clumpy, scarlet liquid settling on the top of her head. It stunk like a spray from a skunk. When she had tried washing out the dye, it hardened to her strands, forcing her to scrub and scrub until her scalp felt raw.
Frustration swelled within her. She wanted to freeze the dye, but that would have been a one-way ticket to Milla cutting off chunks of her hair at the worst angle. She would have looked like a middle-aged bald man when she was only eleven! Lizzie groaned, low and droning, and she pressed her soaked fingers to her cheeks, drumming bits and flecks of dye on her face like new freckles.
"I'm gonna kill myself," she mumbled, shaking her head.
Norma rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't be ridiculous. You shouldn't want to kill yourself over a bad hair day, especially after I told you this was an even worse idea."
"Look me dead in the eyes, and tell me that when I still have this gunk stuck to my head."
Norma grabbed Lizzie's shoulder and turned her around. Looking her squarely in her eyes, she said, "Lizzie, don't be ridiculous. You shouldn't want to kill yourself over a bad hair day, especially after I told you this was an even worse idea."
Lizzie pressed her tongue against the side of her mouth. She slowly shook her head as Norma's grin twisted upward into her cheeks. Pivoting back to the sink, she examined the mess she had made for herself. She poked her finger into the hardened mire, wincing when it dug against her like a sharp jut of stone.
Norma hummed and stood on her tiptoes to look. "If you ask me, the best option would be to hide it until you're able to take a shower tonight." She fanned her hand in front of her nostrils. "Also, I highly recommend you spritzing some of that perfume Mom bought for you on your hair as soon as possible."
Lizzie huffed, slapping her hands against her hips. "Think I don't know that, genius? How am I gonna hide this sludge embedded in my hair follicles? It's not like I have my invisibility badge."
"Which I do," Norma interjected, smiling.
"Which I'm gonna pry from your backpack tonight and shove into your eye socket and pin it right on your frontal lobe."
"Oh, don't be testy when I-!"
Norma suddenly shifted her gaze at the door. Lizzie bit her tongue, a cool sweat dampening her brow. They listened to the footsteps pass on the wooden floor outside. Voices of a few campers faded to where they believed was the game room.
She breathed out a sigh. "Well, I'll have you know that I have an extremely simple solution," Norma chirped, and she slipped her wool beret off her head and placed it in Lizzie's hand. "It's big enough to hide your ooze crown. Anyway, I need to let my hair breathe. It's feeling frizzy from this heat."
Lizzie tugged the hat between her fingers. The checkerboard fabric stretched far enough for her liking, and with a grunt, she forced it on her head. She smothered the crusted hairs underneath the beret, feeling like a watermelon with too many elastics wrapped around it.
Norma stepped behind Lizzie and gathered the hairs that poked out. Lizzie held down the hat, and Norma shoved the locks underneath the beret. A few hairs stuck out like coarse strands of straw, but Lizzie pulled her collar up her neck to hide them.
"Isn't that better?" Norma asked with saccharine delight. She tossed the bottle of hair dye into the plastic trash can next to the sink. She yanked off a long roll of toilet paper and covered the bottle. "Well, I think I've done what I can here. I'll let you clean up the rest. Remember not to mention my name if any counselor comes knocking."
Lizzie scoffed, but she couldn't hide the tiny grin tugging at her lips. She supposed she could have obliged Norma. Her sister had done the bare minimum of hiding the evidence underneath Lizzie's hat and in the trash. With a sigh, she thanked Norma, promising to take good care of her hat in the most sardonic manner possible.
"I'll be sure to leave only a few clumps of dye in it for you to find," she vowed, crossing her finger over her heart.
Norma laughed and left the bathroom. As the door clicked behind her, Lizzie sighed and faced the mirror. She adjusted the beret for it to cover the tips of her ears. Although she disliked how unflatteringly big her head now seemed, she shrugged and decided it was better than nothing before resigning herself to clean the bathroom.