I adjusted the towel on my head and frowned at the outfit I’d just laid out on my bed. Which is safer? I wondered. Jeans or leggings?
I decided to go with the jeans and a plain red shirt, no logo. Don’t give the Princesses anything to pick on, I thought.
I pulled on my “safe” outfit and found a pair of plain brown socks. I slipped my feet into a pair of low black boots. Then it was time to dry my hair.
No braids, I thought. No gel. Just plain. I took the towel off my head.
“Rafe!” I screamed, practically flying down the stairs and into the kitchen. “That’s it! That’s IT!”
Rafe cracked up. Mom stepped between us, which was lucky—for Rafe.
“Oh, green hair!” Grandma Dotty said cheerfully. “Very daring, Georgia! I love punk rock!”
“Rafe, are you responsible for this?” Mom asked.
“Absolutely,” Rafe said between snickers.
“I’m going to shove that cereal spoon up your nose and into your brain!” I screeched at my brother. My wet, scraggly green hair dripped into my eyes.
“Worth it!” Rafe crowed. “You look like you’ve got seaweed on your head!”
“Why would you do something like this?” Mom demanded.
“Georgia knows why,” Rafe snapped. He flashed me an evil, triumphant grin.
“This is very serious, Rafe,” Mom said.
A flash of guilt passed across my brother’s face. He doesn’t like disappointing her either. “It’ll wash out…” he said. “After a while.”
“How long?” I demanded.
“A week?”
“Mom!” I screamed.
“Rafe, I don’t have time to deal with you this morning. But you will be punished for this.” She turned to me and put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Georgia, maybe you can wear a hat or something.”
“How about a paper bag over her head?” Rafe suggested.
Mom glared at him, and he clamped his mouth shut.
No hats, I thought grimly. “I’ll just suffer.”
“Rock the Casbah!” Grandma Dotty shouted.
I had no idea what that “casbah” thing was about, but somehow I got the message. Mission: Blend In was terminated. I needed to buck up and steel myself for whatever was next.
Rock on!
