New Girl

Kay Brown is a foreign exchange student from America into the school Bradford of Doncaster. Upon arrival, she is surprised to meet three interesting men. The one who decided to help her and make sure she was okay no matter what. The one that plays hard to get but might actually be head over heels. And the one with tattoos that hide all of his secrets below the ink and the black. Their names? Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles, and Zayn Malik. What happens when your past keeps you from moving on and your future just seems like a murderer is disguise? Who will she pick? Read New Girl, to find out.


2. Blue (part 2)

Louis's car had that thick aloe smell that only expensive cars had which was carefully paired with a leather interior. His hands grasped the wheel as he tapped impatiently on the dash as he checked over his shoulder. Louis had insisted that I go to his mother's hair salon and he promised to pay for whatever I had done and by judging by the car, he could.
"I'm sorry this happened, Kay. Orientation Day sucks as is and now you've got goop all over your hair....tragic...but don't worry. Mum is great at her job and Tori can adjust any of the colors," he trailed off,pulling into a mansion like building that's neon lights spelled out "Hair Styles Corner" and sported a cartoon outline of a hair dryer.
Louis flicked off his lights and such and pulled into a parkway that read,"Owner's Family," in big red lettering. He grabbed my hand from my pocket and held it, swinging it back and forth.His feet carried me to the color wall where millions of shades were displayed. Every color of the rainbow and every color in between was represented and none of them seemed out of place. Girls pranced in with bright pink hair that framed their faces and showed a burly tattoo of a skull or an eagle. Men, who clearly had openly exited the closet train a while ago, carried totes and hair styling products to the women and began carefully dressing their hair.
"BOO!" A loud voiced boomed as a thin woman with similar features to Louis wrapped her arms around him,"How was Orientation?"
Louis pointed at his hair and then towards me,"Guess who?"
The woman nodded her head and look mournfully at me,"The Styles are killers to hair...."
I nod, staring at the walls that are plastered with celebrity faces and signatures that spell out magical sayings such as,”Hair Styles cut my fears away!” or other sayings that look like they should be put on a billboard with a picture of a petty actor like Justin Bieber, or something.
“So how can I help you, love?” the woman smiled, running her fingers through my hair and stopping at the rough edges just as I did.
“She needs a coloring and such, or whatever you call it, Mum. Duh,” Louis rolled his eyes and grabbed my hand again and led me to a dark chair that had a shower head on the top.
He placed a yellow cape around my neck and pulled the shower head down so that the water was on my hair, “Lay back.”
I rested my head on the bowl that connected the supplies, the shower head, and the water to the wall carefully, making sure not to cause any more damage. His hands flicked the warm water switch and began pooling water onto my hair with his gentle hands, his fingers pumped a soft blue foam and rubbed it carefully into my scalp. His hands took out a thin comb and began to separate the hair into four different sections. Finally, he washed each strand again and rinsed them.
“Did you decide on a color?” he smiled, pulling my hair up into a towel upon my head and walking me over to the hair stylist’s corner.
I hadn’t actually decided anything. I was debating between natural or punk or maybe even a mix. I couldn’t decide if it needed to look completely different of somewhat the same. So I think I just answered the only way I knew how to,”I don’t know.”
He nodded his head and stared at my reflection in the mirror. He cocked his head to the left and then to the right, just like he had done just hours before. He picked up strands of wet hair and flopped them onto my face and them moved them around before hysterically laughing, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“You pick, I trust you,” I smile, closing my eyes just before he lets out a smirk.
“You really shouldn’t do that...” he laughs, combing the hair again as he quickly runs over to his mother and points to me with a whisper and a giggle.
“Tommo-!” I call after him, looking at my face in the mirror to find that my eyeliner was running and my mascara was pooling on the bottom of my face, “You got a towel, Lou?”
He came back, passing me a towel and laid two bottles of hair dye besides me with an evil smile across his face, “Do you have any rules that I can’t break when I do this?”
“Just make it look presentable,” I grimace, closing my eyes again as he combs through my hair carefully.
“Gladly,” he laughs again, starting the work on my hair.
“You can open, Kay,” he laughed after he had dried it all out and had combed it through.
My eyes flickered open to find myself staring at him, not the mirror. “What’s the big idea? I wanna see!” I giggle, trying to spin my chair around.
“You know what? I made a good choice. This looks phenomiNIALL,” he spins me to face the mirror as he carefully parts my hair and lets it roll off my shoulders, “I cut it a little, hope you don’t mind.”
It didn’t seem like me anymore. It was good, I think. I needed a change. He had dyed the base of the hair brown and the tips blue. He had cut my once rib lengthed hair to my shoulders and had curled the edges.
“What do you think?” he smiled, turning me back around to look at him with a glimmer in his eye.
“It’s different,” I started when I saw the hurt in his eyes, “But a good different. I love it, Lou.”
His eyes popped open to yank me out of the chair and run me over to his mother, “What ‘cha think, Mum?”
She cocked her head and asked, “Impressive."

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