Fashion Disaster by Jill Santopolo

one
Purrfectly Purple
    A ly and Brooke Tanner had gotten to the Sparkle Spa extra early on Sunday morning.
    Their dog, Sparkly, was in his favorite corner of the spa, busy chewing on a piece of rawhide that was spiraled like a staircase.
    Aly was busy finishing a blueberry muffin.
    And Brooke was busy experimenting. She took out the elastic from the bottom of her braid, unbraided her hair, then took out the top elastic, letting her hair fall loose down her back.
    â€œWhat do you think?” she asked Aly. Since Aly was in fifth grade and Brooke was only in third, Brooke often asked her older sister for advice. But sometimes, even though Brooke was younger, Aly asked her for advice. So it was pretty much even between them.
    â€œWow,” Aly said. “I think your hair might have grown more overnight!”
    Brooke’s hair wasn’t just long. It was really long. It was the kind of long where the bottom ends of it brushed the top of her shorts. She pulled some strands over her shoulders to the front side of her body.
    â€œI think it goes past my belly button,” Brooke said, lifting up her T-shirt to see where her hair stopped on her stomach. “Yep, definitely,” she confirmed, pulling her shirt back down.
    Aly inspected her sister. She braided Brooke’s hair all the time, so Aly knew it was long, but because Brooke never, ever wore it down, Aly hadn’t thoughtabout just how long it had gotten. Brooke always had it in either one braid or two: sometimes a French braid, sometimes Dutch, sometimes a fishtail, or sometimes a regular braid. But it was always tied back somehow.
    â€œI think you have mermaid hair,” Aly told her sister.
    Brooke’s eyes lit up behind her blue-framed glasses. “You think so?” she said.
    Aly nodded. “I do. But it’s still kind of clumped into three pieces. Do you want me to brush it?”
    â€œDo we have a brush here?” Brooke asked.
    â€œI think there’s one in the desk,” Aly answered.
    Brooke walked over to the other side of the Sparkle Spa—which was really just the back room of their mom’s nail salon, True Colors—and found a brush the color of Purrfectly Purple nail polish in the desk drawer.
    The girls had done their best to decorate the Sparkle Spa with colorful pillows and beautiful paintings anda huge display of nail polish on multiple shelves—in addition to the two teal pedicure chairs and two blue manicure stations that were already there—but some things had to stay, like their mom’s desk and the mini-fridge right next to it.
    Brooke sat down on one of the pillows in the nail-drying area, and Aly sat behind her, brushing and brushing her sister’s hair until it looked more mermaidy than ever.
    â€œWhen was the last time your hair was cut, Brookester? At a real salon?” Aly asked. Aly had gotten a haircut about six weeks ago. She liked keeping her hair chin-length like her mom’s.
    Brooke thought for a few moments. “Kindergarten?” she said. “Or maybe preschool?”
    Aly quickly counted in her head. “Brooke!” she said. “That’s, like, three or four years ago!”
    â€œActually, I think I got a haircut right beforekindergarten started. I remember the pieces of hair made my new shirt itchy—the one with glitter hearts—and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to wear it for the first day of school. But then Mom washed it, and it was fine. Remember that shirt? I wish it still fit.”
    â€œI remember,” Aly said. “I had one just like it with glitter polka dots, and I wore it for the first day of second grade. So it’s really been three and a half years since your hair was cut.”
    Brooke turned around to face Aly. “Want to know a secret?”
    Aly nodded, but she was pretty sure her sister would have told her even if she hadn’t.
    â€œI’ve been thinking about getting a major haircut,”