“You see!” She thrusted a hand furiously at Kim, glaring at Tristan, “Look at this! What kind of daughter have we got here!” Kim had to bite back the urge to snap that she was not Trudy’s daughter. She turned her eyes to her father, hoping for once that he would say something.

But Tristan just stood there, staring in disbelief. His sad brown eyes were widened in disbelief and his messy hazel hair was streaked with oil, and there was a big splash of oil down the front of his shirt. His face was flushed and he looked exhausted- he seemed to have had a difficult day at work. His eyebrows furrowed at Kim’s hair.

“What in the world-?” He finally got out, only to be cut off by Trudy’s screeching.

“She got this done behind our backs!” She continued, still pointing at Kim furiously, “I have half a mind to say that I now know who took that two-hundred pounds from my purse-!”

“What?!” Kim yelled,

“Hey hey,” Tristan protested weakly, putting up a hand, “Wind your neck in, Truds that’s a bit-!”

“Who else could have done it!” she rounded onto him now, “Or maybe you approved of this!” Tristan wrung his hands and looked at the floor, his six-foot-two height seemingly shrinking at Trudy’s rage.

“I haven’t a clue how this happened,” Tristan finally answered, “Kim, just tell the truth.”

“I did!” Kim cried in exasperation, “I did not dye my hair and I did not steal from your purse! I don’t know how this happened! You can ask Fraser!”

“You keep your poor brother out of this!” Trudy prodded Kim in the chest, “He’s been crying non-stop since you destroyed his room!” Kim could have guffawed if Trudy had not been looking so murderous. She had not heard a peep from him since Trudy got home, no doubt she placated him with fast food and endless television. And now that she thought of it, there would be no point asking Fraser, he would just regurgitate what would get Kim in more trouble.

“I’m telling you, I do not know how this happened!” Kim finally said, “It just… did!”

“Rubbish! Things don’t just happen!” Trudy scoffed, “You’ve got a lot of nerve, young lady, standing here in front of us and lying like that!” She looked at Tristan, as if expecting him to agree. His gaze, however, stayed blank and he rubbed the back of his neck. He seemed lost in what to say. His eyes met Kim’s and she stared back, silently begging him to say something! Why was he just letting this happen? Finally he sighed and shut his eyes.

“We can’t force her to tell the truth.” He said, “But… What are we supposed to do?” Kim could have screamed, yet again, that she was telling the truth, but Trudy cut in before she could.

“Oh don’t worry,” she said, her voice suddenly soft and sweet which made Kim’s blood turn to icicles. Nothing good ever happened when she spoke like that, “I will sort this all out. Your dinner’s in the microwave, go watch the telly and put your feet up, work must have been exhausting!” She squeezed Tristan’s shoulder, almost standing on her toes to reach it.

“Are you sure?” Tristan asked her.

“Oh of course, we’ll have a girl’s night getting this sorted, you go and relax.” Trudy answered, pecking Tristan on the cheek. Without much protest, Tristan simply nodded. In that second, Trudy left the room and Kim knew that she had to follow. Trudy went to her and Tristan’s en suite and turned to Kim, arms folded and eyes hard.

“Sit.” She spat. Kim sat on the toilet, gripping the sides and looking up at her. What was she going to do? Trudy raised a hand, causing Kim to flinch on reflex. But rather than do that, she reached to the shelf and picked up something that made Kim freeze; an electric razor.

“Wait- no!” Kim squeaked, eyeing the door desperately, but Trudy was now standing over her, razor in hand and looking Kim in the eye, a malicious look in her gaze.

“You listen to me, you wee cow,” she said, still in that scarily sweet tone, “I’m doing you a favour here.”

“How-How are you-?” Kim spluttered, barely able to breathe as if her lungs were closed to the world.

“You need to think outside of your own little bubble sometimes,” Trudy started the razor, it’s awful buzzing filling the bathroom, “People are less likely to think badly of you without-”

“No!” Kim cried, pushing herself up against the cistern in a futile attempt to back away, “Please don’t! I swear I don’t know why-!”

“Shut up!” Trudy snapped, her sweet tone gaining a sharpness, “Maybe after this, you’ll actually think about the consequences of your actions.” Kim froze, a deep feeling of gloom dropping in her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, Kim could only pray that this would be over quickly…

*

That night was an uncomfortable one. The shock of what Trudy had done refused to leave her. Kim sat on her bed, knees to her chest and pushing back the urge to keep touching her head. Her mind swam turbulently with the same question over and over again; how did it happen?

Hair could not just change on it’s own like that, could it? Kim played the day over and over again in her head, desperate to find a reason. Maybe she remembered it wrong but maybe she did get it dyed? Kim did not know what to think anymore. When she did finally drift into an uncomfortable sleep, her final thoughts awake shifted from confusion to dread and fear. What was going to happen tomorrow when she walked into school with a purple buzzcut? Kim barely wanted to consider the field day the Bonnies and their clique would have at this sight...