Evan Daniels sat at the foot of his bed, sulking. "You mess up one time, and they smash you!" The thirteen year old complained.

Ping!

Evan's head jerked around, looking for the source of the sound, but finding nothing, went back to sulking.

"I mean, how was I supposed to remember not to skateboard in the house?"

Ping!

"New skateboard, long hallway, I just wanted to try it out!"

Ping!

"And you can't really see the skid mark if you keep the light off…"

Ping!

"Argh!" Evan stormed over to the window and jerked it out, just in time to get hit in the face with a rock. "Ow! What is your problem!"

"Shh!" hissed the white haired young boy standing under Evans window. "It's not my fault you didn't warn me you were gonna open it."

"Why are you here Pietro? I'm grounded!"

Pietro spread his hands, as if to imply he was God's gift to mankind— which he probably thought he was. "I'm here to keep you company! Can I come up?"

Evan glanced nervously at the door. "I guess so. But if we get caught, I'm saying you forced your way into my room."

"Wow dude, way to throw me under the bus, and make me sound like a creeper!" Pietro said as he climbed up onto the porch railing, then onto the roof and through Evans window. "So why'ya grounded?"

"Got caught skateboarding in the house," Evan admitted.

"Didn't you get yelled at for doing that yesterday?"

"Well yeah, but it was a new board, and I just wanted to try it out…"

"You know there's a sidewalk right in front of your house, right? We walk on it every day."

"Shut up! You're worse than my mom." Evan complained, walking over to sit on his bed. Pietro followed, setting his backpack down with a metallic clang.

"Dude, whatcha got in there? Silverware?" asked Evan.

"No, it's a haircutting kit. I picked it up from the store for my neighbor. You know, the lady with pink hair? It's a bunch of different scissors, and a razor and stuff." Pietro replied, dumping the object onto Evans bed.

"Wow, what does she need all this for?"

"She's going to hair cutting school."

"You need to go to go to school to learn how to cut hair?" Evan said, rubbing a hand across his own head of blond hair. "That's stupid! I could cut hair!"

"No you couldn't! It's a lot harder than it looks!"

"Oh yeah? I bet I could do a better job of it than you could, Pietro!"

"Ooh, sounds like a challenge." Pietro said, picking up a pair of scissors. "Snip snip."

"I'm going first." Insisted Evan, grabbing the scissors. "Sit in this chair."

"Okay. But don't mess up! My hair one of my best features…"

Evan rolled his eyes, and got to work.

Ten minutes later, he was ready to retract his statement that cutting hair was easy. But he wasn't really sure how to fix what he'd don't, and every snip just seemed to make things worse. Plus, Pietro wouldn't stay still, which was making things even harder.

"Are you done yet?"

"I guess so…"

"You guess so? What do you mean you guess so?" Pietro stood up and walked over to Evan's mirror.

"AUGH! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Pietro shrieked, actually sounding like he was in pain.

"Well, you wouldn't stop moving!

"This is horrible! I can't go out like this! People will laugh and point! They'll say: There goes Pietro! They white hared badly trimmed freak! I'll be ostracized! My family will disown me!"

"You have a family?"

"I can feel my self esteem vanishing-"

"That might be a good thing..."

"I CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS!"

"Whoa, calm down, Pietro!" Evan said. He hadn't seen Pietro this hysterical since the day someone convinced him his white hair meant he was going to die prematurely. And that was bad. He'd had to duct tape him to a chair and convince him to calm down, which was a complicated, stressful process he never wanted to go through gain.

"How about I let you try with my hair?" Evan offered. He regretted it the moment it came out his mouth. Pietro turned towards him, looking completely calm, exept for that almost hidden gleam of evil crazy genius in his eye.

"Okay. Sit in the chair." Pietro said as if the last minute or so hadn't happened.

Evan sat, nervously. Pietro grabbed the razor off the bed flipped it on, and ran it across the back of Evan's head.

"Dude! What did you do that for?" Evan protested, staring at the bald line running through his hair.

"You messed up my hai- Wait, this could work! I'll just even out this…" Pietro grabbed a scissor, and set to work trimming the 'wings' Evan had cut into his hair to be even.

"What am I gonna do? I'm not shaving my head!" Evan said.

"Here, just cut right here." Pietro picked up the razor again, and cut the bottom strip of hair so it was pointy on the sides. "See? Now it looks like you meant to do this!"

"Huh, not too bad…" Evan said, examining his new haircut.

"Evan! Dinner!" a voice called from downstairs.

"Hey, you staying for dinner?" Evan invited.

Pietro frowned. "Aren't I not supposed to be here?"

"My mom won't mind. I'm pretty sure she thinks you live under our porch you're here so often anyways."

"Maybe I do, Evan, maybe I do. Race you to the table!"