Purple Hair

Drip. Drip. Drip. Chai stared out the window at the pattering raindrops outside, feeling as if the universe was trying to signal her. To say she shouldn’t have done it, maybe. Too late now. It was Tami who had convinced her, Tami who was always pushing her to do things, Tami who was always trying to change her somehow. The problem was, Chai didn’t like change, unlike Tami who changed everything. 

Tami’s real name was Matcha because their mom was obsessed with matcha ice cream and chai lattes. Taro bubble teas were also a favorite; they had led to the name of the sweet, dimpled 7-year-old boy drumming his feet on the radiator upstairs. These were all great as flavors, but not so much as names. Still, Taro and Chai had stuck with them, while Tami had branched out from the beginning. It was Tami now, but it had been Mimi, Chacha, MT, Tichi, Mai, and even Mat, although that hadn’t lasted long. There were more to that list but Chai was tired of thinking of all her sister’s changes, as it hadn’t only been the names. It soon progressed to clothes, from goth to bubblegum pink, to overalls to long trailing dresses. That wasn’t as bad, not until her personality started changing too, her laugh, her quirks, her habits, everything seemed to be made up. 

Tami made up lies about herself at home, and Chai had even heard her at it with her friends. As Tami told it, she was a person who was always doing things and had this perfect family with hilarious stories, was sort of rich, and went on a billion vacations. As if. Her friends always believed her though, because Tami sounded so honest, so funny, so wonderful that you always wanted to be with her. You counted on her because, why would she lie? Chai honestly didn’t know, but the truth was, you never really could trust Tami. She was always changing, unreliable, and unpredictable, which was why Chai was just as determined to be super predictable. Of course, that was the reason Tami had dragged Chai to the hair salon that fateful day: she thought it was time for a change. 

“C’mon Chai, it’ll be fun,” Tami had pleaded with her. “Mom and Gram’ll be so surprised, it’ll be like a whole new you!”

“I don’t want a whole new me,” Chai had grumbled, trying to pull away from the older girl’s iron grip. “I like this me just fine.”

“But Chai, you’ve had that afro since forever. Haven’t you ever wanted your hair to swing behind you while you walk? Sometimes people need a change, and everyone changes their hair sometime in their life…”

“What about people with already straight hair?”

“They curl it. Duh. Or dye it or something.” Tami had rolled her eyes. “Chai, just come, don’t be a jerk just to spite me, you know you wanna.”

“Wanna. Wow.” Chai had looked over at her then. “Now you just sound like a baby,” she said because she really did want to spite Tami, to make her feel something real. Hurt and annoyed maybe, like Chai got when Tami badgered her too much. The insult didn’t take effect though, and Tami had only tinkled out a laugh and punched Chai lightly on the arm. She had smiled down at her in an almost grandmotherly fashion then.

“I know you’ll like it when it’s done,” she had said, and had started walking with Chai’s arm still in her grip. Chai, having no choice, had followed, maybe also because she’d been a tiny bit curious. Maybe. 

Now it was raining, Chai’s favorite weather. Usually, she would be running outside by now, no raincoat on because raincoats were for weaklings. She would have been splashing Taro and wrestling Tami, or just standing still and letting the raindrops roll down her face. Chai let out a sigh and traced a water droplet trickling down from the other side of the glass. She should have been outside, but her sister hadn’t had Mom’s permission when she decided to straighten Chai’s hair. Or dye it purple. Mom had said that the least Chai could do was keep it straight, so as not to waste the money, and so now Chai was stuck inside. For the third rainy day in a row.  I’m sorry universe Chai said in her head, looking up at the sky. She was sitting on the ground, next to the porch door, which was clear. She hadn’t really moved from the spot in the past days, trying to look pitiful so that Mom would feel bad and let her go out. She leaned her head against the cool glass, knowing her mom was furious at her. She’d never let Chai play in the rain again, never let Chai feel the cold, refreshing drops against her skin. 

“Never,” Chai whispered into the empty room, and a tear slid down her cheek. It’s the closest you’ll ever get to feeling rain again, the voice in her head said, which made her sob harder. Good. If you cry enough, maybe you’ll even have a swimming pool by the end, the voice said snidely, which calmed her down a bit. The voice in her head always calmed her down because she focused more on how annoyed she was with it than the rest of her surroundings. That was why, when Tami came into the room, Chai didn’t notice her, as she was too busy thinking of a creative comeback. In fact, she only noticed Tami when she plopped down next to her on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Tami said, looking her in the eyes. “I get a little carried away sometimes.” Chai didn’t say anything, so Tami continued. “It’s just that for me things were always easier when I changed myself a bit. I felt more detached from myself because I was, like, pretending to be someone else. I could think of better solutions to my problems, be more outgoing, because it wasn’t really me. So I guess I felt like it didn’t really matter as much. It’s just… I knew you were going through some problems with Kaylie and...I thought maybe some change would be good for you. Maybe you’d feel better like I do, but...everyone’s unique, and you got in trouble, and I’m truly really, really sorry.” 

Tami’s gray eyes found Chai’s again, and some of Chai’s now sleek, light purple hair flopped down over her forehead. Looking at it and at Tami’s earnest face, she decided that she was unique and that her smooth purple hair made her even more unique. Maybe it was because Tami had mentioned Kaylie, and Kaylie was always saying Chai was too bland and boring. Maybe. But Chai already had the purple hair, and it would anyways be a lot easier for her if she just accepted it. Chai decided to make a warm gesture, and so she rested a hand on Tami’s shoulder.

“It’s okay.” Chai smiled up at her. “I like it.” 

Tami raised her eyebrows. “Really? Bu-” 

Chai cut her off. “I like it, but you have to change your hair too.” Chai took her hand back because it felt kind of awkward to just rest it there. “Maybe try an afro?”

Tami rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She looked out the window, and Chai did too. The silence stretched, but it wasn’t awkward, because it was a silence of two people just sitting together. It was a silence that said that there was nothing more to say. It was the silence of sticking with each other, and forgiveness, and love. Both of them knew then that they would always be the same, always changing and unchanging and indifferent and emotional. The same, but not. Chai had straight purple hair now, and that made everything different, to her at least. Chai leaned her head on Tami’s shoulder and watched the sky turn red and orange, bleeding out the sunset. She had been stuck inside for three whole rainy days, but it was fine, everything was fine, and Chai smiled.