I skipped in the next morning as if it were actually going to be a normal day at a normal job. Everyone has days like those, usually the majority of their days, so why should I be any different? After all, by the time Kendra and I had finished our game of phone tag in a conversation of authentic communication all ability to tell my best friend of what, exactly, my new job entailed had disappeared. I had made up some crap about prissy office dwellers desperate for a good look; she could understand that. Then we had cut to the meat of the discussion: Michael's return. Kendra, at least could understand me; only a pig in a man's body could actually attempt to rescue our relationship over something as pathetic as an iPod.

And of course I had brought up Mr. Maser's son. What sort of girl would I be if I failed to do such a thing? One manner of contemporary womanhood that continually drove me crazy was the increasing need for independence and freedom from a healthy relationship with a good male. Let's face it, folks, junior high gossip shall never leave us, alone with the fourth-grade habit of passing love notes. Priceless. Kendra didn't even mind that my conversation with the boy had not lasted longer than thirty seconds.

"Tansy, you're hot, you're sexy, and you finally have a career. Of course you are scaring them into silence."

Besides, why wouldn't Mr. Maser's son hang around the office a little more than he was? It was mean not to spend time with one's father. Certainly the boy had more manners than that.

Then again, maybe it was me. I hadn't come out as high school royalty for nothing, and small-town glory didn't hold much to that. But it had been as real as anything Green Trail could produce. It wasn't my fault or the high school's that everyone listened to a British brat demonstrate what we should not wear.

I couldn't believe my own thoughts. Not the thoughts that ran through one's head as one sang Madonna oldies under her breath while dashing into work. What was I thinking, though? I was Tansy Bryner, and I had managed my way through plenty of boyfriends. Mr. Maser's son could easily be my next conquest. Unless his stuffed shirt father had some policy against his fairy godmothers dating his son.

But I didn't care. That new determination pushed itself out as a smile as I flung open the door, ready for another day of fairy godmother labor.

Mary just hung up the phone as I walked in. The Bic pen in her hand wobbled as she jotted down whatever information had just been revealed to her. To my surprise, she had actually attempted something of a hippy-girl braid down the side of her head. Cute, quite honestly.

"Hello, dearest!" I sang.

If that didn't get Mary staring at me. "Hi, Tansy. Um, I… " She lifted two stacks of papers, eyes peering through the edges of her desk. "I had a message from Mr. Maser. You're doing the whole thing today, though Linda should be keeping an eye on you. If you have your appointment book…"

I froze at the corner, just in front of a pretty framed picture of a stone well. "Appointment book? No one has made any appointments with me… unless they make them all through you…" It wasn't until I finished speaking that I remembered exactly what business I was now in.

"Did you leave it in the Salon?"

Probably. Maybe. Hopefully. I flashed another smile. "Yes, that's where it is."

Mary's smile was that of the saved sacrifice. "Good! Well, good luck!"

"Thanks!" I waved to her, and ran at full speed toward the Salon.

Four girls, including Linda, were already in place, chatting wildly to each other and their clients. The clients were hardly the sorts of girls you would see wandering the streets. Unless, of course, there was a theatre or a LARPing group around. For a moment all I could do was stare. Besides the dresses, there was a quality about the girls that I just couldn't put my finger on. A quality that just screamed "I am a storybook princess!"

And here I was, right in the middle of it, accepting it. A little laugh burst silently through me. I had a secret. I had a super-cool secret.

It was then I decided that not even Kendra was going to know about this.

"Tansy!" Linda called. She was bent over a red-haired girl and wielded both her magic wand and a teasing comb. "You returned once more!"

I shrugged. "Hey, I'm being paid for this, aren't I? Why not come?"

Linda and the other… fairy godmothers laughed. Great. I just might be one of the crowd.

"Out of curiosity," I said, leaning against the wall. "What would happen if I failed to show up?"

An Asian-American fairy godmother with the most adorable curls I had ever seen shrugged. She was waxing the eyebrows of her princess. "I think Mr. Maser erases your memory or something."

Well, that wouldn't be a complete loss, would it?

"I'm Alexis," she continued. "I'm doing this to get my husband through med school, but it's totally fun so I'll probably stay at it for awhile. You left your appointment book here yesterday, so Jennifer stuck it by your station. She's not here, but that's Veronica and that's Brittany." She gestured at an empty chair that was already occupied by a lovely princess. "Your first appointment, Princess Mayblossom, forgot her appointment was in five ten minutes and unluckily showed up an hour ago."

I felt a twinge of embarrassment that I quickly forced away with the reality that it wasn't my fault. I had been here on time.

"Good luck," Linda called.

Then, for some reason, everyone laughed.

Unsure of what the joke was, I turned, beaming, to Princess Mayblossom. Mayblossom. What sort of name was that? But the girl was pretty, awfully pretty. Cute and small, with the perfect, flowing, golden-blonde hair and these big brown eyes… yeah, she was a princess all right. She smiled back at me, rather shyly, and daintily curled her fingers over the arm rest.

There was a snap, and the cushion fell to the floor.

"Oops," she murmured.

Great. Apparently I had been given the bad station. I kept up the smile, scooped up the cushion, and shoved it back on the arm rest.

"Sorry about that," Mayblossom said softly.

"Hey, honey, it's not your fault. Just dumpy material here. Anywho, I'm Tansy, and I guess I'll be your fairy godmother today." Man, but that was fun to say! This wouldn't be too bad at all!

"Princess Mayblossom," she said, then leaned out to shake my hand—only to scream as her hair tangled in the back metal bars of the chair.

I had been given the really, really bad station. I quickly fled to free her from the random knot. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "Yes, yes, I'll be fine. Don't worry, this happens all the time, and it's not your lovely chair."

Aw… one of the poor girls with no self-confidence. And she was too pretty for that. "It's not your fault!"

"Well, maybe it isn't. But it still happens, so don't worry."

Okay… "All right, I'll just prevent you from dying if that danger occurs. What am I doing for you today?"

She paused to think. "My sixteenth birthday is today…"

Yay! "Happy birthday!" I exclaimed. "Oh, now I have to make this super-special…"

Mayblossom laughed, the tinkling laugh I would have expected of a princess. "Thank-you, that would be wonderful! I just want to look nice for the celebration."

"And you will, dear. And you will. I haven't done a birthday makeover in so many months. We'll just start with a shampoo…" I proceeded to pull out the necessary shampoo and conditioner bottles, then lean back Mayblossom's chair to the sink. Then I turned on the water, made sure it was the right temperature and…

The water shot out at the oddest angle only a crazy plumber could create, hitting Mayblossom square in the eyes. This time I screamed, quickly shutting off the water.

Linda almost choked with laughter.

And that's when it hit me. This was not my fault, nor Mayblossom's, nor the equipment. This was an evil prank against me.

For crying out loud, I was being initiated. I was being hazed.

I quickly found a towel for Mayblossom, who protested the whole while that she was fine. And I kept up the charade for the other girls.

And I decided that Mayblossom was going to walk out of here looking more gorgeous than she had ever looked in her pretty little life. I didn't care how entertaining it would be for the rest of them.

The second time, the water came out fine, as water should come from a magical tap (I assumed it was somewhat magical). I soaked Mayblossom's hair, and I squeezed the shampoo onto my hand. I had never heard of the brand before in all my schooling, but it smelt professional! Any layman can smell the difference between store shampoo and the kind that requires a license, and this did require a license! I lathered it into her hair and began the scrubbing. Use the fingertips, get the scalp.

I didn't get very far. About thirty seconds in, Mayblossom's hair turned purple.

But it was shampoo! I checked the bottle, heart pounding against my ribs. Shampoo! It could be nothing but shampoo!

I gritted my teeth and kept going. She was going to pull off the purple hair, darn it!

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

I couldn't lie to a princess. "Um, my shampoo just turned purple."

She gave a sound that was a cross between a sigh and a laugh. "Oh, of course. I forgot to warn you. One of your fairy godmothers once figured out that there are about two dozen…keema-kells, I think you call them, that my hair cannot handle. But that's okay. I've had purple hair before, and I like it. It goes away in a few months."

"Good, because I think this shade will look fantastic on you."

Alexis' princess doubled over away from the curling iron.

Even the princesses were in on this.

I was afraid to turn on the hairdryer. I didn't want to electrocute the girl. Her hair tangled around my thinning scissors.

But, by some miracle of heaven and hair products, two hours, a broken brush, and many bruises on Mayblossom's part lead to one hot chick. Her purple hair was volumized and textured and her make-up was on. I stared at her, smiling inwardly and out, feeling like a mother hen or the guy who painted that church ceiling in Europe. She looked fantastic.

She laughed and clapped her hands when she saw herself in the mirror. I relished that. It was the sort of victorious moment of Miss Congeniality make-over of which every beautician dreamed. I could have wept. She wept for me, though—apparently the mascara was getting in her eyes somehow. "I love it, Tansy! This is the finest shade of purple I have yet had! I feel… wild."

Purple hair tends to create that wild feeling. "So, Birthday Girl, are you going to do anything with this?"

She giggled, properly putting her hand to her mouth as she did so—frankly, the tea party stuff was getting on my nerves, but hey. "Well, the prince whom my parents wish me to marry is sending over his very handsome ambassador for the celebration tonight…"

Ah, a conflict of romantic interest. I couldn't help but smile. "Mayblossom, are you really going to do as your parents tell me?"

"Probably not."

"Well, then, if you like this ambassador more than the prince, go for him." Was I allowed to give out advice? As a beautician, I could. And certainly the fairy godmother thing required me to do more to get a princess her prince… or ambassador. "If the prince can't show his own face, he's probably ugly."

"I thought of that, too." She giggled again, stood up, and promptly fell back into the chair as her foot caught on the lever. "Ouch."

She only slipped once on her way back to her door, and I was going to consider that a success. It was my first real appointment, by myself, and I had succeeded! I turned to the other girls, smiling proudly.

Brittany immediately set into applause while Veronica and Alexis screamed "You did it!" Their princesses were too busy laughing.

I forced my grin to slide back into something a little more demure and fixed the butterfly barrette that was securing my left pigtail. "Like I don't see an initiation when it's in front of me. Come on, that was all too obvious."

"Told you she was a quick one," said Linda dryly as she yanked the curlers from her princess' hair. "Great job, Tansy."

"And she was such a good actress, too." I made my way back to my station to start cleaning up. Even the cleaners smelled nice. This was my kind of place.

"Actress?" Veronica echoed.

I didn't think she sounded fake. I paused mid-wipe. "Huh?"

And that was when they all busted up laughing.

"Tansy," Linda finally said as breath reached her—not attractive, her pretty brown waves were stuck in her lip gloss. "Tansy, you were right. We gave you Princess Mayblossom on purpose. But she wasn't acting."

"When Princess Mayblossom was born," Brittany said matter-of-factly, "A wicked witch cursed her with unluckiness."

"She's a walking disaster," chimed in Linda's princess. "My entire kingdom knows about her."

"By the way," Linda said, "Wrong advice you gave her. Most wrong advice."

No. I didn't want to give the wrong advice! Guilt and anger hit me. "I did?"

"It's all right," Alexis said. "There was nothing you could do. Hint, the unluckiness. We won't say anymore."

This was excellent. I had been given Princess Bad Luck and had told her to do something stupid. I suddenly felt like crying. I quickly turned away and opened my appointment book. That would cover the red eyes, and hopefully the tears wouldn't really come.

Thank goodness the shock of my next appointment took those away.

With a gasp I slammed the book shut, certainly crumpling a few papers, just as the door Mr. Maser had taken me through opened.

There was Snow White, dressed in a stunning yellow gown and a scowl over her face.

I will always swear a chill descended over the room.

"My hair isn't soft enough," she spouted, dragging her trailing gown over to the chair. "Mr. Maser said I could make an appointment whenever I want to. I'm here. It is wonderful to see you again… Tansy." She didn't sound happy to see me.

Yeah, well, she was probably in a bad mood. I thought of her story, being forced out into the woods by her evil stepmother. I would have hated that as well. So I slammed on a smile. "So you just want a deep conditioning?"

"If that is what you call it. And you should hurry, because those dwarves left that house a mess."

I had never liked moody people. I quickly fetched the conditioning supplies. Ooh, apple. How appropriate. Well, twenty minutes, tops, and I she would be gone.

I smoothed the conditioner into her hair. Her hair wasn't soft enough, my butt. The girl had the hair of a commercial. But if she wanted it, she would get it. That was my job. She closed her eyes as I wringed the conditioner through, her lashes like tufts of black grass against her pale skin. The fairest in the land. "So, Snow White, how have you been?"

"Please don't talk to me."

Mayblossom had at least given me some chatter. I had never had a client that refused to talk. Linda caught my eye and made a gagging face. I chuckled.

Snow White opened one eye. "Are you laughing at me?"

"No." Touchy. "Why would I make fun of you?"

She closed her eyes, but her plan to not speak changed. "People who aren't beautiful like to mock those who are."

She had not just insulted me! "Huh?"

"How did you become a fairy godmother, Tansy? You aren't beautiful."

Automatically I glanced at the mirror. There I was, as cute as a button. She had to be kidding me. It took all I had to not reply. I think that pleased her, because her perfect red lips slid into a smile.

Twenty minutes later, as I had planned, Snow White was ready to go. I finished combing her hair into place and smiled. "There. Look at you, Miss Beauty."

She sighed. "Tansy?"

"Yes?" I maintained the smile, though there was a sudden desire to reach for a poisoned comb.

"I have had fairy godmothers try to befriend me before. I don't like it. Don't try it."

I was very happy to see her go.

"Ignore her," Brittany said once Snow White's door was closed. "That's all you can do. Obey her snotty wishes, then ignore her."

"Thank-you." I leaned against the counter, staring into the mirror, deciding I did not like Snow White one bit. What kind of creep said such things? What had happened to the pretty girl that hung out with the woodland creatures? Not that I like them myself… I flipped my book back open. It was… empty.

"I'm done?" I asked, looking up. That was pretty hard to believe.

Linda shook her head just enough to keep her in focus with the pencil weave she was doing. "Uh-huh. Maser's taking you out on something."

"Exactly."

I hadn't heard the door open, and apparently neither had the other girls. But there was Mr. Maser, standing there, smiling. Today he had opted for a more casual look, pathetically casual—jeans and an orange plaid shirt. I think he was going for the average, rural man. It wasn't half-bad.

"You see, Tansy," he continued, stepping toward me. "A great deal of our service takes us outside of the Salon. Think of it as field work."

Was this supposed to be new? "Like what I did with Snow White and Pearl?"

The smile vanished. "Yes, like that."

Well, his smile was gone, so I made my own. "Which princess is it this time?"

"A good, basic princess. A Cinderella."