Punks Don't Wear Prada

Jared picked up a blue hair dye and a black.

"No way, I'm not going black!" I nearly shouted, and shuddered.

"dark brown?" He comprised.
I sighed. I'd rather go neither. Why can't I just stay my perfect blond?

"Well... Not all punks have black hair... maybe I should just stay blond..." I said softly, almost whinning.

"I really hate this, you know? Maybe I shouldn't help you. I'm just encouraging stupid labels. You know, labels really screw people up. It's gotten so far now that you and I wouldn't even be talking if it wasn't for your sudden change of heart," he begrudingly informed me, and set down the hair dyes to their original places.

"I'm sorry. I hate these labels, too, but honestly, two teens won't be able to change it. I'm only going to be 'punk' for a short period of time; I'm just going to leave all of the decisions to you. You want me to go black? I'll go black. You want me to go green? I'll go green. You are punk, yourself, so it's just whatever to me," I said in a bored voice, and shrugged. I didn't care what he thought, really. I just wanted to get this stupid thing over with so I could go on with my perfect, wonderful life.

"See! Once again, I'm not the punk king! I'm not even punk! I'm what you and your, your little 'posse' stereotype as punk!" He shouted at me, his eyes flashing.

"Well, sorry that the whole school's jealous of me and my friends! It's not our fault that we're just beautiful people!" I yelled back.

"Ahh, that's just it. We're all jealous of you. You and your 'perfect' friends with your designer handbags and your credit cards paid by 'Daddy'. You just don't get it do-" He screamed back, but was inturupted.

"Something wrong back here?" Jane poked her head out, glancing from a fuming Jared to me. She held back a smile before saying, "I heard shouting. Didn't want to miss out on a fight!" Her smile turned to a smirk.

"Just, whatever. I'm out." I turned my back to them.
I was half way out the door before Jared yelled, "Wait."

I turned around, hand on one hip.

"What?" I hissed.

"...I'm...I'm sorry. Would you still like me to help you?" He asked through clentched teeth. Jane looked like she might attack him.

"Jar-red!" She cried, and thumped him on the head, "So if I just pranced in here, walking like I've got a stick up my ass and beg in my girlie, cheerleading voice and stare at you with my gorgeous blue eyes, you'd let me walk all over you?!" She demanded, her hand also on her hip.

"Probably," he teased at her.

"And I don't walk like I've got a stick in my butt!" I added.

"Whatever." She hissed.

"Jane, would you help us?" Jared asked her, politely.

"Nope, I'm too busy."

"Yeah, she might burn a hole in my head," I glared at her.

"It's not like you've got anything that'll fall out in that blond head of yours," She glared back.

"Whatever."

"Humph."

"She'll pay you," Jared smiled. He and Jane shared a look before Jane just shrugged and said fine.

Then she snatched two boxes of hair dye and yanked my arm to the bathroom.