The next day was Saturday — the start of our weekend with Dad.

When I climbed out of bed, I suddenly felt nervous. What would Dad say when he saw my hair? What would Felicity say?

I bit my lip, staring into my wardrobe and trying to decide what to wear. Finally, I decided not to worry. I put on my favourite pair of black jeans and a T-shirt. At least I would be comfortable.

When Dad and Felicity arrived, Hannah was in front of me. Dad hugged her first.

‘Hey, Cassie-girl!’ Felicity said and patted my hair.‘Look at you!’

By then, Dad had seen me.

‘Cassie!’ Dad said and gave me a hug. ‘My beautiful little girl,’ he said. But he was frowning over my head at Mum.

‘Surprise!’ I said meekly. My face was burning.

‘Why did you let her do that?’ Dad asked Mum angrily.

Mum shrugged.‘Ask the girls,’ she said, half-smiling.

Dad looked at me. I gulped.

Dad looked around like he was deciding who to yell at.

But before he could say anything, Felicity said, ‘Let’s go. I’m hungry.’

Thank goodness for Felicity.

Felicity talked the whole way in the car about how she had shaved her head when Surprise! she was eighteen. I tried to imagine what Felicity would have looked like, but it was pretty hard. These days she has fluffy brown hair that floats around her shoulders.

I could see Dad frowning while Felicity talked. He hated my hair. But I didn’t feel sad like I thought I would. I felt annoyed. Why did I have to look like Dad wanted me to? Why couldn’t I have really short hair if I wanted? Short hair didn’t hurt anyone.

Hannah was scowling out the window, just like Dad.

I could see where she got it from.

When we sat down for yum cha, Felicity was still talking and Dad was still frowning.

I had just chosen a plate of pork buns from the trolley when Dad finally said something.

‘Did your mother let you cut your hair like that, Cassie?’ Dad said. He said it like Mum had let me jump off a cliff.

I glanced at Hannah and bit into the soft, sweet bun. She looked white.

‘Nope,’ I said with my mouth full. Then I swallowed. ‘The hairdresser said it would suit me.’That was true in a way.

‘The hairdresser!’ Dad looked around like he wanted to go and yell at the hairdresser.

Hannah was watching me with her mouth open. She still looked pale.

‘But you’re only nine years old!’ Dad said, a little too loudly for a restaurant.

‘So?’ I yelled back.‘I’m not a little girl anymore, Dad.’ I had heard those words somewhere before, but I couldn’t think where.

Hannah was watching me closely now, half-smiling.

Dad was turning red. But he didn’t know what to say. My hair was already short, so what could he do? He took a gulp of tea.

Felicity saved the day.‘Go, Cassie!’ she said.‘Fight for your rights, girl.’

I like Felicity.