▸ Bleached Beginnings: Chapter 14

In the serene nook of the schoolyard, everything remained just as Ivy had left it—draped in the gentle shadows of the surrounding trees, a peaceful refuge from the bustling main area. The vibrant sounds of laughter and chatter from the school gate felt like a distant echo, muffled by the thick canopy of leaves overhead. She leaned against the robust trunk of the largest tree, its rough bark brushing against her back, providing a sense of comfort and stability. Her hands were buried deep in her jacket pockets, fingers curling around the soft fabric as she bided her time, lost in her thoughts.

The cool air pricked at her cheeks, a delightful reminder of the changing seasons, as she searched her surroundings with a hint of impatience. She exhaled slowly, watching her breath create little clouds in the chilly atmosphere. She had instructed Violet to meet her here; where could she possibly be?

Just as she was about to pull out her phone to check the time again, the soft patter of footsteps caught her ear. Ivy's heart lifted slightly, and she turned her head, her eyes brightening at the sight of her friend. Violet appeared before her, her oversized hoodie slightly askew, the fabric swallowing her petite frame. That unmistakable grin lit up her face, a beacon of warmth that contrasted with the coolness of the day.

Violet playfully remarked, "Kept you waiting, huh?" as she stood beside Ivy.

"Yeah, yeah," Ivy muttered, but her lips twitched into a faint smirk. "Ready to head home?"

Violet bounced eagerly, her excitement bubbling over as she exclaimed, "Lead the way, fearless guide!"

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The journey home was uneventful but pleasant, the steady beat of their footsteps on the sidewalk harmonizing with their lively chatter. Violet was more talkative than before, sharing little snippets from her day spent outside the school. She described the pigeons that had caught her eye, the snacks she nibbled on, and the students she had quietly observed. Ivy primarily listened, interjecting with brief remarks now and then.

Eventually, their discussion meandered to the topic of Violet's hair.

"Those roots really catch the eye... was it intentionally done like that?" Ivy remarked, casting a sideways glance at Violet's short, curly pixie cut. The stark contrast between the deep black roots and the vibrant bleached blonde made for a striking look. 

Violet tugged at a curl, her grin faltering slightly. "Yeah, I know. It's been a while since I touched it up." 

"Why bleach it in the first place?" Ivy asked, her tone more curious than judgmental. "If you were homeless and struggling, why waste money on stuff like hair dye or bleach?"

Violet was quiet for a moment, her gaze fixed on the pavement ahead. Then, she glanced at Ivy with a small, wistful smile.

"It was the only thing I could control," she said simply. "When I… came back, I saw it as a chance to start over. Bleaching my hair was the first step. Phase one of the whole 'new me' plan."

"New you?"

"Yeah." Violet paused, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face before she continued, "I changed my name too. I used to be called Vincent." A soft laugh escaped her lips, tinged with a trace of anxiety. "It just didn't resonate with me anymore, you know? But Violet? That feels like me." 

Ivy nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. "Makes sense," she murmured. "I get it."

Violet tilted her head, curious. "What about you? Ever thought about changing your look?"

Ivy hesitated, her silence hanging in the air like a tightly pulled string. At last, she shrugged, her fingers clutching the fabric of her jacket pockets. "Sometimes," she admitted quietly. "I look too much like my mom." 

Violet blinked, taken aback by the sudden display of vulnerability. "Your mom?" 

"Yeah...," Ivy responded, her voice steady yet tinged with emotion. "And I don't know. Seeing myself in the mirror just… it hurts sometimes."

Violet's demeanour shifted, her gaze warm and inviting. She leaned in slightly, offering Ivy's shoulder a gentle pat. "Hey, you could totally change it up if you wanted to. Dye your hair, cut it, whatever. It's your canvas." 

Ivy let out a humourless chuckle, her fingers absently toying with the ends of her hair. "I wouldn't even know what colour to pick. It feels like such a big decision."

"What's your favourite colour?" Violet asked, her tone encouraging, as if she were coaxing a shy flower to bloom. 

"Purple," Ivy replied. 

A playful grin spread across Violet's face, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I can totally see you rocking purple! Imagine it—deep, rich violet cascading down your shoulders, or maybe a vibrant lavender that dances in the sunlight. You'd look so pretty!"

Ivy sighed dramatically, but the slight smile tugging at her lips revealed her hidden delight. "It sounds nice in theory, but what if it looks terrible? What if I end up looking like a grape?"

Violet laughed, the sound bright and infectious. "Oh, come on! You won't know until you try. Besides, even if it doesn't turn out exactly as you imagined, it's just hair! It grows back. Think of it as an adventure, a chance to express yourself. You could even add some fun highlights or go for an ombre effect!"

Ivy's brow furrowed in thought, the wheels in her mind turning. "You really think I could pull it off?" "Absolutely! You have the perfect face for it. And if you don't like it, we can always dye it back. But I have a feeling you'll love it. Just picture it—every time you catch a glimpse of yourself, you'll feel like a new person. Empowered, vibrant, and full of life!" 

Ivy couldn't help but laugh at Violet's enthusiasm as the duo continued to walk alongside each other. 

⋯ 

Their conversation carried them all the way to a larger grocery store. As they stepped inside, the gentle hum of fluorescent lights enveloped them, and the enticing aroma of freshly baked bread mingled with the lemony scent of cleaning supplies, greeting them like an old friend.

"Only browsing, no grabbing," Violet said with a playful smile, fully aware that the allure of spontaneous purchases would be a tough challenge to overcome.

They meandered through the store, eventually landing in the hair dye aisle. The lights flickered overhead, casting a bright glow on the colourful array of products lining the shelves. Violet's gaze swept across the shelves, her excitement bubbling over when she spotted a bleach kit. With a triumphant grin, she snatched it up and turned to Ivy. "This'll solve my root dilemma!" she declared with confidence. 

Ivy's attention was drawn to a box of purple dye nestled just a few shelves down. She picked it up, examining it closely, envisioning how vibrant the colour could be against her dirty blonde hair. The deep, rich hue seemed to call to her, promising a transformation that would make her feel bold and beautiful. She could almost see herself with the striking colour, turning heads and feeling empowered. But then, the harsh truth hit her like a cold splash of water. She glanced at the price tags, her heart sinking as reality set in. The bleach kit was already a stretch, and the purple dye was just as pricey. They couldn't possibly afford both options, not with their tight budget. 

Ivy let out a frustrated sigh as she returned the purple dye to its place on the shelf. "Let's just go for the bleach kit. It's meant for you anyway." 

But before she could reach for it, Violet swiftly snatched it from her grasp. "Nope. Not happening!" Violet exclaimed, placing the bleach kit back and seizing the purple dye instead. "This one's for you."

"What? No way. You need the bleach for your roots," Ivy protested.

"I'll survive with roots for a little longer," Violet said firmly. "This is way more important."

"Violet—" "Ivy," Violet cut in, her voice taking on a rare seriousness. "You mentioned wanting to change your look. This is your moment. Do something new. Trust me, it'll feel good."

Ivy stared at her, uncertain. She glanced at the purple dye again, her fingers twitching. It wasn't practical. It wasn't necessary. But… maybe it was something she needed.

"Fine," she muttered, snatching the box from Violet's hands. "But if it looks bad, I'm blaming you."

"Deal," Violet said with a triumphant grin.

The walk back to Ivy's terraced house was filled with more laughter than before. Violet couldn't stop teasing Ivy about her soon-to-be new look, while Ivy tried to act indifferent, though her small smile gave her away.

By the time they reached Ivy's house, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting the streets in a warm, golden glow. Ivy unlocked the door, and the two stepped inside, ready to start the next phase of Ivy's transformation.