Hair Care (This is for Starry Nights. Yeah, I love all of you, but her and I were discussing this. So this is for you!)
Waiting for the curling iron to heat up, Susan thinks about other things. As she parts her hair into sections and pins them up, she always thinks about the same things. How when she told her friends what she was doing to her hair, how they hadn't understood. On some level, Susan gets that. When they talk about some things about their hair, she doesn't always get why that's so important. Or the whole sunblock thing. (Theoretically, Susan knows she should probably use it too, but she doesn't much see the point. She doesn't burn, after all.)
As she starts methodically curling her hair, she thinks about the real issue. Once again, her and her parents had the same arguement. *"When are you going to come to your senses and stop dating a boy that's younger/ less experienced/ less potiential than you?"* Of course, they never say anything about race, but she can hear it in everything they say. *"We just think your worlds are too different."*
As usual, Susan had brushed off their concern, saying that she knew what she was doing. Inside, she burns with the unfairness of it. Out of all her siblings, she's the one that knows exactly what she wants to do with her life. She's the one who never rebelled when her parents wanted her to do something. The first time she had ever disagreed with them was when she decided not to be a pediatrician, but a pediatric nurse.
Susan finishes her hair and glances in the mirror, satisfied. She turns off the curling iron and heads out the bathroom, ready to slip into her dress and knock Chuck out of his socks. And not think about anything tonight.