From the Ashes

I accompany Avril Lavine on the next verse of "What the Hell" that blasts from my car's stereo as I fly down the road on my way to the store. It's a gorgeous day, and I have the windows of my beat up little car rolled down to let the warm wind whip at my auburn hair. Kaitlin had driven me home after I had jumped up and down on her bed earlier, and made her give me a ride unless she wanted me to commandeer her mustang for the day. After showering, washing Roman's clothing, and changing into an outfit of my own, I decide to go out for the day and do a little grocery shopping for my mother. Since I have no life.

I flick on my headlights and turn the music down as I approach a road construction sign, not wanting to disturb the workers with the blasting punk. Decelerating, the young sign guy catches my attention, and I prepare to put on a flirtatious look as I get closer.

And then I narrow my eyes at him in calculated horror.

He radios something into his walkie-talkie deliberately as he makes eye contact with me, and then rotates his "Slow" sign to the "Stop" side. I sink a little lower in my seat as I dig my foot into the break, and am forced to stop near the painfully familiar sign guy, who is right outside my window.

"What a pleasant surprise," Roman croons as he leans against his sign, his bright grey-green eyes glinting slyly as he smirks from underneath his hard hat.

Why, God?

I give him no response further than a wrinkled nose, so he continues.

"I don't know about you, babe, but last night was epic." I swivel my head towards him, finally, gripping the steering wheel as I narrow my eyes at him.

"At the club? Not so much," I say, feebly hoping that's what he's referring to. His smirk broadens by a few more inches, and he shakes his head no.

"After the club. At my place." My stomach drops. I can't even remember being transported there, let alone what happened once we arrived... Roman must have picked up on the mortification spilling from my face, since he continues. "Yeah, you were great, babe. Pretty wild when you're intoxicated. You're no expert, but that was some crazy sex."

I think something inside me just died.

I begin to sputter inaudibly, horrified, as I can't believe what he's saying. Oh god... Isn't that considered date rape? How the hell could he take advantage of a sick, intoxicated young girl? He couldn't be serious...

"Shit, I'm just kidding, Allie," He laughs as he tips his hard hat back to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"I didn't ravage your virtue."

Relief and anger flood through me as I swipe at him from my seat.

"Roman!" I shriek, and I can't help but smile as I give up on clawing his face off. He grins at me.

"Sorry, Allie, couldn't resist. But you are really cuddly, it was adorable," he murmurs with a sly smile. My cheeks flush, and I look away from him as a voice crackles from his radio.

"You're clear, Rome."

"Aight," he radios in reply, swiveling the sign to "Slow" without taking his eyes off of me.

"I'll be seeing you, Allie," he says softly, his eyes carrying that ever-present, sly glint. I search the heavens with a smile as I roll forward through the construction area.

Once in our downtown supermarket, picking up the random food items scrawled by my mother on my shopping list, my pocket buzzes with an incoming text message. Leaning over with my forearms resting on the handle of the shopping cart, I lazily read the message from Kaitlin.

Heeey baby cakes. Come to my house when ur done shopping like a little old lady

Thank you, Kaitlin... I type a reply of confirmation before snapping my phone shut and shoving it back into my pocket. With a smirk, I take my sweet time finishing up the grocery shopping, just for the little old lady jab.

Kaitlin is at the door waiting by the time I arrive at her house, and let myself in.

"There you are! Geez, stocking up your bomb shelter with a year’s worth of supplies? Oh well, come here." Before I can make a snide remark, Kaitlin is bounding away, and I tag along after her. She stops at a desk in her front hallway, snatching a slip of paper as she spins around to face me with a devious smile. I give her a wary look.

"Your hair appointment is tonight, you're lucky Miss Jackson had a cancellation, and she could fit you in her schedule so early!" Confused, I cock my head at Kaitlin. After I open my mouth, but before I can get words out, she elaborates.

"Miss Jacks styles my hair, so you know she'll do well," she says with a wink, giving her short strands of dark, streaked hair some twists.

"Kait, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Allie!" she exclaims, grasping me by the shoulders, "You're getting your hair dyed! And cut! I know how much you long to be in on this punk rocker stuff, babe, you're just too frightened to break out of your shell and take the plunge into a new look!" I gape at her, my mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a beached fish. She gives me a broad smile, and pulls me toward the stairs.

"Come on. This will be a great summer change!"

Half an hour later, with the thought sinking in that I'm going to go through with the change in hair color, Kaitlin is helping me look through and pick out the perfect style and shade for myself in a hair style magazine.

"Of course, after we get this done, we're gonna go shopping to get you some new clothes." I smile, flipping through the pages of her hairstyle magazine for the hundredth time. Kaitlin peers at the pictures too.

"What color are you thinking? Or what colors, I should say."

"Who's saying I'm getting multiple colors?" I inquire with a grin.

"Oh, come on. Streaks are so boss."

"I dunno... I was thinking black. Maybe with some white-blonde streaks."

"What! I was thinking pink, actually..."

"Pink?" I exclaim, turning my full attention on her. She looks slyly up at me from the magazine.

"Yes. A light pink would look sooo amazing. Be drastic, Allie! And if you don't like it, you can always dye darker over it, you know... Pwease? For me?" She has her puppy dog eyes on, with her hands clasped imploringly to her chest. She starts to bat her baby blues as I shrug my shoulders with nervous skepticism.

"I... am not sure, Kait..." Looking down at the pictures of the styles, the thought of pink hair begins to grow on me. Not a bright, annoying pink... A soft pink. Just to do it, since it’s only hair, and since I’ve had the urge to do something drastic with it for a long time, as Kait knows.

"That sounds… bold. You win," I conclude, smiling up at Kait. She gives an excited squeal.

"Just pick out the style, now! I was thinking something along the lines of this one..."

********

The evening finds us sitting in the hair salon of Miss Jackson, myself in the styling chair, and Kait across from me. Having selected the style and colors I wanted, the stylist is busy at work with setting the dyes in the proper spots. She and Kait converse casually, and I sit in nervous, though extremely excited silence. After waiting to let the dyes take effect, my hair bleached to hell and wrapped up in tons of pieces of foil like some kind of alien, Miss Jackson washes my newly cut hair. She dries it, and sets to work styling with a blow drier, a round brush, and a straight iron. I chose not to face the mirror until after it's entirely finished, and am left to face Kaitlin, who cries out in joy and excitement every so often as she watches the progress. Finally, the moment of truth arrives.

"Are you ready to see your new hair, Allie?" Miss Jackson asks me with a broad smile. I give a nod, and she swivels the salon chair around.

My eyes widen at the site before me.

My hair is cut shorter, in straight, textured strands that fall in spikes around my shoulders, and my bangs are trimmed and straight-hanging off to one side of my face, almost covering my left eye. The color is an attractive soft pink, with faint, gorgeous light streaks of texture throughout, and for some reason, it makes my bright blue eyes pop. Overall, I am over the moon with excitement.

After paying Miss Jackson, Kaitlin and I rush to the nearest mall to pick out new clothes to complete the effect of a new style. Hitting up Rue 21, we get distracted with the pretty bras quickly, and end up wasting an hour trying them all on. We head to Hot Topic with a few new articles of frilly under-goodies, buying a pretzel to share on the way.

"Band tees are the way to go. They're my favorite to wear, at least," Kaitlin chimes as we stroll down the mall toward Hot Topic, taking a big chunk of pretzel from my hand and biting into it. I nod as I follow suit with a piece of pretzel.

"I agree. Have you noticed how soft Hot Topic's shirts are?"

"Mhm, magic. Or 100% cuddly-puppy fur."

"That's bad ass," I snort sarcastically. We toss our Auntie Anne's trash into a wastebasket before we wander into our store of choice. Kaitlin tugs me to the back, where they have their giant wall of band tee shirts. I start poking through the Avenged Sevenfold shirts, the Asking Alexandria shirts, and the We Came As Roman shirts with Kait before she wanders off to go look at the interesting bras. Like she doesn't have enough already, I think with a smile as I roll my eyes.

I pull out a few tees I like, and begin to add numbers in my head before pulling my wallet out of my purse. Upon looking up to do so, my eyes fall to what has become a persistent entity in my life recently. Roman Spade stands a few feet away, beside a glass display case of odd jewelry, the kinds that fit in belly button and face piercings. I pause, caught off guard by his weird ability to appear wherever I happen to be. I have a view of his chiseled profile, and I watch his strong jaw set and unset in focus as he, I presume, calculates the styles of new snakebites. He turns his head towards me unexpectedly, and gives me a quick glance. From behind a frame of dark hair, his smoky gaze flickers to mine briefly before turning back to the display case. He does a quick double take, and I give a start as I realize I'm staring at him. I fumble with my wallet, blinking rapidly as I feel his quizzical gaze on me. I look back up, and see him standing still, staring at me with a blank look. I furrow my brow at him, and give him a "what..." gesture.

"Aleithea?" he breathes.