"You've got a call," my dad answered obviously as my cell phone rang in the distance, probably stuffed in some kind of chaotic mess in my room. My fork dropped out of my hand and almost fell off the table, so I caught it in the air quite impressively and rushed to the sound, fork still in hand.

"Hey!" It was Hannah, of course.
Ever since we had actually decided we should exchange numbers if we were to hang out, I had been happy to know that I was now included in the friend zone. The friend zone was dreaded, of course, but any excuse to hang out with her worked fine with me.

"Hey!" I answered simply, but she had already begun talking.

"So, there's this thing I need help with today-my birthday party actually,"

"How can I help?" I answered. I felt bad for not knowing her birthday, but I mean, it's not like we ever really got to talk about it.

"Well, it's going to be a fairy garden type thing- lights and stuff! I'm so excited! Anyways, pick you up in five!"

"Wait-" I said. How was I going to have time to get her a present? It had to be an extremely well thought through gift.

"Okay! Great!"

Hannah hung up, and I was left, stunned. I changed out of my pajamas into something a bit nicer; khaki jeans, a red flannel, and a plain white pocket t. It was practically the only halfway-fashionable outfit I had, along with the one pair of black high top converse I had from Christmas two years ago. The rest of my shoes were either sandals or a pair for "Sunday best only."

Once I had slipped on shoes hurriedly, I tried to get a comb through my hair. It was pretty short, and extremely curly. The comb didn't work all that well. I heard the sound of a long doorbell my dad had insisted on getting and knew that Hannah was here already. I dropped the comb. It wasn't like I would have much luck anyways.

I heard excited voices from the hallway, one I recognized as Hannah and the other as my mom. I smiled as I appeared, and Hannah waved politely. My mom was glowing, complimenting Hannah's pant overalls and flower shirt, saying how absolutely adorable it was.

"Don't you think so, Leo?" my mom asked, one arm around Hannah. She was marveling at the sight of not one but two girls actually acknowledging me. Another girl stood quietly in the corner, dark, gorgeous skin, long black hair, and the outfit of a model type; distressed jeans and a long shirt that had some kind of band label on it. Of course, this girl was someone I would expect as Hannah's friend, and I felt greatly underachieved.

After a quick explanation and some goodbyes, we hurried out to a car, one that I didn't recognize.
"This is Valerie. Valerie, this is Leo."

I tried to smile confidently, but it was more of an awkward wave. How was I supposed to be chatty around her friends when it even took time for me to be able to talk comfortably with Hannah?

"Anyways-" Hannah broke away from her brief introduction with an amused look. She tousled my hair around her finger. "You are in desperate need of a haircut,"

I nodded. I hadn't actually planned to go any time soon, but I knew it was getting pretty trashy looking.

"We can do something about that. My mom is partially a cosmetologist. She should be able to do something about it," she thought.

Partially didn't sound trustworthy.

"Or we could just go straight to a barber shop. I go there all the time,"

"That's not necessary-"

"Of course it is! Let this be your early birthday present from me. You might like it,"

"And I might not," I offered.

But at that point the him of the engine sounded and Hannah whispered "He would look just like a little Troye Sivan if we did something like that to his hair," and she pointed to an image. Valerie smiled and they both giggled.

I sat, scared. What were they going to do to my hair? Could we not just get a normal haircut?

Hannah turned on Valerie's stereo, blasting my eardrums off with it. She switched radio stations twenty times before settling on one. And, of course, I had no idea what the song was.

We pulled into a small gravel path, walking up together towards it. Valerie seemed nice, but it seemed she suspected that she was the mature and older sibling type of the group. I didn't have a problem with it, but I could sense that she had that about her as soon as she had introduced herself. We had a wait of thirty minutes before I was finally sat in a chair, first going through the painful process of breaking my neck on a sink that washed my hair. Valerie stood up and showed the barber a picture, and he nodded. I heard the hum of a razor blade. He was going to shave off some of my hair?

I grew more and more nervous, but I told myself it was for Hannah. She wouldn't give me a terrible hairstyle, I reminded myself doubtfully. I felt hair fall onto the floor, clutching the arms of my seat tightly. I didn't like this. I knew it would be different than a regular cut, and I didn't know how that would end up with me.

After extra long awkward conversations with the barber that stretched on, I was told to "hop up" and take a look. I did, and was genuinely surprised. It looked good. I wasn't going to lie. It was shaved, but not completely, on the sides and in the back, leaving a smooth blend of hair at the top that curled and made me look like I knew about what was trendy these days.

Valerie covered her mouth over-dramatically and let out a loud "Awe!" which made me feel more like a little kindergartener they swooned over.

"See? I know what I'm doing!" Hannah said proudly, hands on her hips. I just continued to run my hands through now a much smaller amount of hair. It felt strange and satisfying at the same time.

"Time to pick up the other friends. We might be a bit squished," and off we went, after Hannah stopped to check with the barber and slip some money in  his hands. She had promised to pay for it, but I knew I would still pay her back, even if she refused to accept it.