Four Seasons by Jane Breskin Zalben

Author:Jane Breskin Zalben [Zalben, Jane Breskin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-375-89405-3
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2011-02-08T00:00:00+00:00

Right after dinner Emma and I got ready for movie night. I couldn’t help wondering if Opal had seen any good movies this summer with Brad.

“Should we ask Erik to be a page turner?” Emma called out as I showered.

“Will you be able to concentrate?” I teased her.

“Why not?” she replied as she applied silvery eye shadow.

“Should you do it or should I?” I coated my hair with Emma’s creamy lavender conditioner, then rinsed.

“Whatever. Maybe you should. You’re the pianist.”

“I thought you liked him.” I peered out of the shower stall.

“He’s okay.”

“Just okay? You could have fooled me. I can’t imagine what you’d do if you liked someone.”

“He’s not my type.”

“And what’s that?” I stepped out of the stall, wrapped in a towel.

“I’ll know when I see it. Someone less white-bread.” Preoccupied, she pulled at one of my wet curls, and it sprang back into place. “Let me cut your hair.”

“Have you done that before?”

“Hundreds of times.”

“Hundreds?” I questioned her. “You run a beauty salon on the side?”

“Okay, thirty, forty. My grandmother, aunts, little cousins. And myself.”

“Yourself?”

“And my neighbor’s dog.”

“What kind of dog?”

“A poodle.”

“You had me at yourself, but if you can do a poodle, I trust you with mine.”

As hair fell on the tiled floor around my bare feet, I glanced down, frightened. “Don’t look yet!” she insisted, clipping the ends, checking to see if they were even. Then she stood back, like Opal did at her easel, and snipped a stray hair. “Finis!”

I looked at myself in the mirror. “You took off more than three inches!”

“It’ll grow back.”

“Not this summer!” I felt kind of annoyed. My bangs were skimpy.

“Do you like it? You can see your big blue eyes now.”

“I’m used to shoulder length.” I glanced down at the scattered locks.

“You look sophisticated with it short.”

“I do?” I vamped. “Really?” I asked, the annoyance vanishing.

She turned on the blow dryer. “We could be almost the same age.”

“Almost?” I gave Emma a nudge.

At this moment, I felt unfaithful to Opal.

So I texted her before we left: I miss u. Your BFF.

I wanted to believe no text came back because her cell phone was off.

Emma polished my toenails, and I did hers in the pale peach color I had bought at the start of the summer. “It’s so Miami,” she said, admiring her feet. Then she put on short silky pants and a slinky black V-neck sweater with a tiny gold necklace. Both of us wore sandals so we could show off our pedicures.

Before we left, she dabbed jasmine essence behind my ears, and then applied a touch to hers. “We’re going to get eaten alive,” I said.

“By whom?” She looked over at me with a mischievous grin.

“Not by whom, by what—mosquitoes! We just became dinner and a movie.”

I grabbed bug spray just in case, throwing it in the pocket of my denim jacket.

It was twilight by the time we got to the lawn near the two tennis courts. No one noticed my hair. I was expecting a comment or

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