dos and Don'ts
Page 1
Hello
Gorgeous!
Do’s and Don’ts
GROSSET & DUNLAP
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Text copyright © 2012 by Taylor Morris. Cover illustration copyright © 2012 by Anne Keenan Higgins. Teaser text copyright © 2011 by Taylor Morris. All rights reserved. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Printed in the U.S.A.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN: 978-1-101-56711-1 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ALWAYS LEARNING
PEARSON
Hello
Gorgeous!
Do’s and Don’ts
BY TAYLOR MORRIS
GROSSET & DUNLAP
An Imprint of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Hello Gorgeous! Blowout
Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1
“Look! There you are!” I said, jumping up from the living room floor and rushing to the TV. “Did you see?” I hit Rewind, then Play, and showed him again. “There!” I tapped the screen.
“Whoa,” Kyle said, leaning back against the couch and watching himself. On the screen he stood behind me and the rest of the Hello, Gorgeous! crew, smiling as he sipped his drink. “I never thought I’d be on TV. Especially not on a show about hair salons.”
“I know. It’s awesome,” I said, clutching the remote to my chest. Even though I’d never dreamed about being on television, something about it happening felt comfortable, like it was supposed to be this way. Destiny.
Cecilia’s Best Tressed had filmed at Mom’s salon, Hello, Gorgeous!, a few weeks ago, and the episode had finally aired. By now I’d seen it at least a dozen times. The night it premiered Mom had a big party at the salon for all the stylists and their friends and families, plus my friends Jonah, Kristen, Lizbeth, Eve, and of course, Kyle. Mom closed the salon early and had the event catered, with waiters in white jackets offering trays of tiny little yummies while we watched ourselves on national TV. Everyone got dressed up like it was the holidays and Mom even styled my hair in a sideswept glam ponytail.
I sat back down next to Kyle on the floor and we continued to watch quietly as my favorite part came up. I’d seen it so many times that I knew every second by heart; it made me giddy each time. There was a moment at the end of the show, where we were all happy and celebrating the successful renovations of Mom’s salon, when Kyle stared over at me for a long moment. I hadn’t even realized he’d been looking at me until I saw the show for the third time; now I couldn’t stop watching.
I felt my heart begin to race, wondering if Kyle would notice his screen-self staring and if he’d say anything. But the moment came and went and… nothing. He didn’t say anything or shift uncomfortably or suddenly start coughing or anything to show that he was embarrassed or busted or happy. I tried to analyze what that meant.
As the credits rolled, I thought about that night and how Kyle had said something so completely adorable that if I hadn’t liked him before, I totally would have then. He’d pointed to my hair and said, “You look pretty. I like the way your hair tumbles playfully over your shoulder.”
Tumbles playfully? I mean, who says that? Correction: What boy says that? If it hadn’t been so sweet, I would have busted out laughing.
“You totally want to be like your mom, don’t you?” Kyle asked, breaking into my thoughts.
Kyle, who was sitting right there beside me. Kyle, who had not just held my hand during the party, at school, after school, and even for a few moments tonight while we watched TV, but Kyle—who I’d had my first kiss with. And second and third kisses, too.
“Yeah, I do.” I turned to face him, looking into his brown eyes, long lashes and all, and felt a moment coming up, like there was this energy between us, something quiet and building but also totally in motion.
“I think you’re going to be huge one day,” he said, nudging my foot with his. Our shoulders were millimeters from touching, we sat so close to each other. He leaned even closer and whispered, “Bigger than your mom.”
I gasped—jokingly, because of his statement, but also because his face was so close to mine. His face, which included his lips. I wondered what our fourth kiss would be like. “Don’t let her hear you! That’s been my plan all along!”
“Sure,” he said, reaching out and giving my waist a quick squeeze. I jumped at the tickle. “Like you’d ever take your idol down. But I have to say I’m impressed.”
“With my stellar styling skills?”
“No,” he said. “Well, yeah. But also because you already know what you want to be when you grow up. I don’t have a clue.”
“Don’t you and Jonah want to be professional gamers?” It was kind of a joke. Jonah, who happened to be my best friend, and Kyle spent almost all their free time playing video games or skateboarding.
“Does Boston University offer a degree in that?” he asked seriously.
This time I reached out and grabbed his waist for a tickle. He just stared back at me, not budging. “Doesn’t really work the same on guys,” he said.
“Oh, really,” I said. “Too manly to be ticklish?”
He laughed. “So what’s the deal,” he asked, sliding his finger across my hand, sending chills through me. “Your own salon here? Boston? Somewhere else? Do you want a chain? A show? An empire?”
I smiled. “Do you really want to know?” I felt a flutter of excitement in my stomach. No one had ever sat me down and asked about my dreams to be a superstellar stylist someday. I mean, I talked about it (all the time) and I guess sometimes people sort of listened and nodded along, but no one had ever asked me how I was actually going to do it.
“Of course I want to know,” Kyle said. “Why wouldn’t I?”
I wanted to say, Because you’re a boy and what I want to do is supergirly. But maybe the point wasn’t that it was girly, but that it was about me—his girlfriend.
“Well,” I said as I tucked one leg under me. “I want to start by working with my mom. I want to learn everything from her.”
“Start with the master. Good plan.”
“And then, when I’m old enough, I want to go to beauty school. Just like she did.”
“An education. Also a good plan,” Kyle said, nodding.
“And then,” I said, “with all the money I’ll have saved since I started working, I want to open my own salon. Maybe here, maybe somewhere else in the Berkshires. But only with her blessing.”
“You’re already saving money to open your own salon?” Kyle asked, his eyes wide.
“Well, yeah,” I said, and shrugged. “It costs a lot of money to, like, own a building and buy all the stuff that goes inside of it. Plus to pay employees.”
“Mickey, you’re thirteen.”
“I know,” I said.
“Wow,” he said. “I’m impressed. Not surprised, though.” He reached up and pushed my hair back off my shoulder. I held perfectly still, not at all annoyed that he had moved my hair from the exact position I’d put it in for it to look long, lustrous, and inviting. So I guess it had worked.
“You can be my first customer,” I said. “I’ll even style you for free.” I reached up and ruffled his wonderfully thick, slightly curly hair.
He grinned. “As long as you get more training first. Like, lots more training.”
“Hey!” I said, really scruffing up his hair this time. He laughed and pulled away. I reached out again and this time, he tickled my waist again. I screamed and squirmed.
I hopped up on my knees and held my hands out in a monster rawr pose. “You’re asking for it,” I said, reaching for his hair just as he backed away again.
Leaning back on his elbows he said, “This is your warning.”
“Just let me style it a little,” I said, moving closer. “A cut here, some gel there.”
“Final warning.”
Which of course meant it was on. I fell toward him with both hands aimed at his head.
“You’ll give me a perm or something!” he said with a laugh and rolled away.
“Perm!” I said. “Why do you even know that word?” I reached for his hair but he grabbed my waist again, making me scream.
Then he gripped my wrists and held me off. I tried to wiggle free but I knew it was hopeless. By now he was fully on his back and I was leaning over him when, at the same time, we had a brilliant idea. He bent his knees and offered the flats of his socked feet toward me.
“Airplane!” we said at the same time.
I positioned his feet on my hip bones and clasped his hands tightly.
“Ready for takeoff?” Kyle asked.
“Ready!”
He slowly moved his legs up over his body. He held me steady as he caught our balance, his legs swaying slightly.
“I’m flying!” I called.
He stretched my arms out to the sides and slowly released my hands.
“Fly, little bird!” Kyle laughed.
“I’m free! I’m free!” I tipped my arms from side to side, trying not to laugh but unable to not smile hugely.
“Oh no, we’re heading into turbulence,” he said and started swaying his legs the slightest bit. I reached for his hands again, but he kept them pressed down flat on the floor.
“No, please!” I said. “I’m gonna fall!”
“What is going on?”
I crashed to the floor with a thud. Before I could recover I saw Kyle sitting up at attention, hands in his lap as if he hadn’t been doing anything wrong.
I sat up and saw Mom standing in the doorway of the living room. She had this look on her face like she was trying to be stern—hands on hips and all—but I could see a smile starting to creep across her mouth.
“Hi, Mrs. Wilson,” Kyle said.
Mom raised an eyebrow in response. “It’s getting a little late, don’t you two think?” She continued on into the kitchen, where I knew she’d make a cup of herbal tea before taking a long bath like she did most nights.
Kyle got up and said, “I should probably get home.”
“Hey, what about me?” I asked, still sitting on the floor. It made sense that he was intimidated by my mom—even I was sometimes—but it’s not like we’d done anything wrong. “I call pilot error. My passengers are considering a lawsuit unless you help me up.” I stretched out both hands.
Kyle pulled me to my feet, holding my hands for a moment longer than he needed to. We walked to the front door, where he put on his shoes and picked up his skateboard, which was propped against the wall.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at school,” he said as I opened the door. “Thanks for inviting me over.”
“Sure,” I said. I looked back into the house, trying to see where Mom was lurking. Kyle stepped out onto the porch and held his board in the drop position, ready to bolt at any moment. Quickly, before he even had a chance to see, I leaned out and kissed his cheek, feeling his soft, warm skin on my lips. I’d intended for it to be a bold move, but as I pulled back I was so flushed and embarrassed that I actually sort of wanted him to go so I could bury my face in a pillow and scream.
“Um,” Kyle said, glancing at me as I tried to force myself to return his look. “I’ll, um…,” he stammered. I’d totally thrown him! Was that good or bad? Then he surprised me by leaning in to kiss my cheek. Inside I was dying a wonderful, embarrassed, happy death!
“See you tomorrow,” I managed. He dropped his board, stepped on, and cruised away. I let out a swoony sigh before heading back inside. Mom was sitting in the living room with her cup of tea. “Sheesh, Chloe,” I said.
“Pardon me?”
“Just kidding, Mom,” I said, plopping down beside her on the couch.
She took a sip of her tea and then set the steaming mug on the coffee table and turned to me. “Sweetie, we need to have a talk.”
My stomach dropped. Kyle and I hadn’t been doing anything wrong. We were just having some fun. And then I thought, Oh, boy. A talk? She’s going to give me The Talk.
“Well, the thing is, see,” I began, trying desperately to think up an escape. “Homework! I have a ton of homework to do.”
Mom looked at me curiously and said, “Mickey. Guess what? You’re not in trouble and nothing bad has happened.”
I let out a sigh of relief, but I still knew something was up.
“So tell me about Kyle,” she said, and I sucked that breath back in. “He seems really nice the few times I’ve been around him. Quiet, though.”
“He’s only quiet around you because you’re my mom,” I said.
She smiled and drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. “Dad said he’s very polite, so that’s good.”
Expressing total interest in my boyfriend? This was definitely leading to The Talk.
Mom looked at me curiously and said “You don’t want to talk about him?”
I shrugged. “There’s nothing to talk about it. We’ve only been together for a couple of weeks. It’s not a big deal.”
“Okay,” she said, eyeing me. “If there’s ever anything you want to talk to me about, just let me know. All right, sweetie?”
“Okay, Mom,” I said, feeling escape at my fingertips. “Thanks. Tons of homework, though.”
“Fine,” she said, playfully tossing me out with a sweep of her hands. “I thought you’d like to gab about your new boyfriend, but I g
uess I was wrong.”
Gab? With her, about Kyle? She was so embarrassing! Just as I made it to the edge of the living room, she said, “Oh, there’s one more thing.”
Of course there was. I turned to face her.
“I’m going out of town for a few days next week. For Cecilia’s Best Tressed.” Now gabbing about hair, I could do all day long! I walked back to the couch and stood behind it. “Remember how Cecilia asked me to be a Head Honcho for a future episode? It’s finally time to shoot.”
“I was starting to wonder if that would ever happen,” I said.
“I’ll be gone for a few days starting next week. Violet will be in charge at the salon but she might need a little extra help, especially with the Be Gorgeous demo on Saturday. Do you think you could help keep an extra eye on things, make sure it all goes smoothly?”
“Of course,” I said, trying not to get too excited. But come on—what exactly did she think I lived for?
“I have a lot of organizing to do at the salon before I go. And once I leave I expect you to be on your best behavior. Got it?”
“I’ll be perfect,” I said and smiled.
Mom laughed. “Sure. You and your father both.” She looked at me for a moment. “I haven’t left you since you were born, you know.”
“Moooom,” I said. “You’re not leaving me alone. Me and Dad will look out for each other.”
She smiled. “You know what I mean. Come here.” She held out her arms. I walked around the couch and leaned into her, hugging her back as she squeezed me tightly.
It was weird to think Mom was getting sentimental about leaving for only a couple days, considering she worked all the time and was rarely home. A woman had to work hard to run a crazy-successful business. I’d learned from Mom that sometimes you had to make sacrifices to be successful and get what you wanted out of your career. Good thing I was willing to do the same.
CHAPTER 2
“All I’m saying is it can’t be anything good,” Jonah said as we walked to school the next morning.
“Hmm, maybe,” I replied. Truthfully, I was hardly listening to him. I was currently obsessing about a certain airplane ride I took yesterday.