Pins and Needles

If given a nickel for each hour of stress I'd felt this past week, I'd be a millionaire. Unfortunately, the sweat beads were running again, this time Saturday morning with my Driver's License exam staring me straight in the face. I blinked the drowsiness out of my eyes, no doubtedly brought about by last night's cram session. Glancing to my left, I cringed at how David's own frame slumped over the edge of his desk

I owe him big, I thought, remembering Mom's embarrassing proposal last night. And not just for the late night study session.. Poor guy must be exhausted.

.. And I also have to give him respect, I blushed as he met my gaze and winked, before hurriedly looking back down at his paper. Although we'd sat next to each other for the last six Saturdays, it wasn't until now, our last class together, that I realized how little I knew about the guy.

At least we have tonight to get to know each other better, I wasn't sure how to feel about that yet. Part of me felt a deep sense of dread and despair, yet a part of me also felt a little tingle of excitement. I didn't have much time to ponder the emotions though.

"And remember, eyes on your own papers!" Ahh, Coach.. And how lovely it'd felt to have him yelling at me first thing in the morning the last Saturdays as well. It sure made getting up early and abandoning my usual morning cartoons worth it. Why, I was that close to failing the test just so I could go through six more weeks of hell. At least I could get my Saturday mornings back, provided I made it through today.

Ok, focus now, I reminded myself. Random daydreaming won't answer any of these questions.

Speaking of which.. I stared at the scan tron, multiple-choice format of the exam. The first one was easy: 'Which car has the right of way when three stop at an intersection at the same time?' (the rightmost car). The second one had me scratching my head: 'How many points in a parallel park?'

Well, if you stop, back up, then pull up front, then crank the wheel and back up again- I tried to remember what the Nazi had taught me on the road. I have no idea! C:5 sounds good.

Answer C it is. I swallowed tightly. Suddenly, the next forty-five minutes of my life seemed very uncertain.

"So.. Was it as good for you as it was for me?" David asked sullenly as we shoved out way through the doors of the Secretary of State's office for, by some miracle on my part, the last time. Confused, I frowned at his comment until realizing he was referring to the exam.

"I doubt it. I'm just glad it's over," I stuffed my results in my back jeans pocket with a dejected sigh. My score was going to have to be one of those, 'just good enough' situations. I still had the monotone "Hand 'em in.. Wait your turn," Coach relay echoing through my mind, as he grabbed our exams and fed them through the scan tron machine. It miraculously only took about thirty seconds before my exam spit '78%-PASS' back at me, a quite unacceptable score in my perfectionist mind. There wasn't anything I could do to improve it now though.

"I guess I could've failed," Trying to stay positive, I gave him a small smile, noticing for what felt like the first time how his brown eyes sparkled.

Probably just the sunlight, I rationalized, turning my face away from his shyly.

"Well, at least I get to celebrate by taking you to your prom tonight," David smiled, the sparkles definitely catching my attention. Unfortunately, before I could answer him, my jaw nearly scraped the sidewalk at the sight in front of us.

"Lindsey!!" Heidi bellowed at me, waving her arms wildly out the front passenger's seat.

"Oh Lord," I mumbled.

Please no scenes. Not now.

"Hop in, kiddo." I wanted to dissolve into a sidewalk crack the moment Mom's voice called from inside our minivan. There's nothing worse than being called 'kiddo' in front of, well I guess my date. A member of the opposite sex other than Zac, at least. Zac knew my family members enough -or at least he did- to know what levels of embarrassment they're capable of.

"See ya later," I sent David a fleeting, tight-lipped smile and hurriedly rushed over to them. Anything not to create an embarrassing situation.

"Seven ok, Lindsey?" David called after me, adding with a grin, "At least we'll be alone, no chaperones."

"Sounds good! Bye!" I yanked open the van's sliding door and hopped in, a surprised look on David's face looking back at me as I slammed it shut.

"That was inconsiderate, kiddo." Mom glanced at me in the rear view mirror. I frowned back at her, but decided the best option was keeping my mouth shut.

"So that was him?" Heidi asked me brightly, twisting around in her shotgun seat to get a better glimpse of David..

"Him who?" I echoed sullenly, taking a seat on the bench in the back of the minivan.

"You know, your date tonight." She pointed to David, who was now behind me as we pulled out of the parking lot.

"David?" I glanced over my shoulder before shrugging. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Aren't you excited?" She asked me, practically bouncing out of her seat. "He's actually cute!"

"Yeah, I guess so." I repeated, wondering what the word 'actually' in her phrase was implying.

"You know, you could be a little more enthusiastic about this," Mom glanced at me again.

"What exactly is 'this'?" I asked, noticing we weren't headed in the direction of home. "Where are we going?"

"I booked you a one o'clock hair appointment at-" Oh God, no, please not- "Model's."

"What?" Moe-dell's, phonetically speaking, was this horrid salon downtown where Mom liked to hide her roots at, so to speak. With black and white wall tiles matching those on the floor, shiny silver New Age-styled chairs, and blinding overhead fluorescent lights, the entire place was one big headache to me. I'll be the first to agree that it'd been awhile since I'd had my hair cut, but Model's was too exciting for me. That and I think 99% of the hairstylists, all men, are gay.

"We had to wait awhile for you today, so there's no time to argue." Mom sent me a look of warning. "We're late enough as is."

"Sorry," I replied sarcastically. "I had this small exam to take. You know, just my driving test."

"Don't take that tone with me," she spoke back sharply.

"Sorry," I muttered again, hoping I sounded like I meant it, though I really didn't.

"What's wrong with you lately?" Heidi cut in. "You're so cranky all the time."

"I am not cranky." I retorted.

I just don't like people on my case.. and nice not to ask how I did this morning, thanks.

"Don't bicker you two. We're here." Mom announced.

"Goody," I muttered under my breathe after she'd gotten out of the car.

"You could cut out the bitchiness," Heidi snapped at me as soon as Mom's door had slammed shut. "We are doing you a favor here."

"A favor?" I stared at her in disbelief, not knowing whether to laugh or scream at the insidious remark. Fortunately, I didn't have much time to pick an emotion, for Mom yanked open the sliding door on my right.

"Let's go, kiddo."

Argh! Mom, you're this close to a full body check into the side of the car if you call me kiddo one more time.

"Fine," I smiled sweetly at Heidi as I slid out of the car. The sharp stench of hair products and dry heat filled my wrinkled nose as I pushed my way through Model's silver front doors. A tall, wiry man stood in a haughty position, the back of his hands on his hips. Glancing at the annoyed look on his face, I figured this afternoon would be borderline hellish.

"Just.. put your head back a little more."

"Oww!" All the tumbles my joints have taken while crashing down on the ice didn't compare to the seething pain on my scalp as Lance, Mom's 'miracle-worker' (as she swore) ran a fine-combed brush over my unruly curls. It felt like nearly every hair cried out in pain as he unsuccessfully tugged once more, making me wince.

"Lindsey, it's not so bad," I heard Mom muse above and behind me. If I had the neck-craning ability, I'd have sent her a nasty glare. After all, this cruel and unusual torture was her fault. I just prayed that I'd make it out alive, hair withstanding.

"It hurts," I clamped my palm down on Lance's brush, hoping to end the suffering of my roots. Lance sighed loudly.

"Head back," he scolded, swatting my hand away with a flick of his fingertips accompanies with a pout. "How am I supposed to work any magic here when you won't even let me start?"

"Sorry."

Like I meant that.

"Oww!" I wailed again at Lance's second tug, pulling my chin towards my chest. "Can't you just use a different brush?"

Not to mention friendlier.

"Ok.. Who's the hair dresser here? Who went through six months of beauty school? And who's holding the scissors?" He continued with an air of arrogance as I opened my mouth to interrupt his little tiff. "Hmm? Do we have any volunteers from the nit-picky ladies gallery on this? Of course not.. I remember now: ME."

"Now head back!" He placed his palm on my forehead and cranked my face upward. Closing my eyes, I relented, primarily out of fear. This guy was a fruitcake.

What dark alley did Mom find you in? I wondered as I took in the lovely view of the solid black ceiling, squinting under the fluorescent lights. The worst part of Model's definitely had to be the smell - incredibly close to that of rotting eggs. Just a tiny whiff made my toes want to curl.

Only one more reason to shy away from femininity.

"Exactly how much are you planning on taking off with those scissors?" I asked Lance warily as a flurry of snips circled my head.

"Just enough to patch up the ends, doll." Lance obviously didn't harbor any harsh feelings from earlier, for he sounded as happy as a kid in a candy store. While I hated to crack his cheerfulness, it'd taken way too long to grow out my curls. The last thing I wanted was to enter the prom tonight sporting an afro.

"Umm.. looks like a bit more than a patch up job," I stared in disbelief as a three-inch lock of my hair fell across my forehead, slid down the choke-tight plastic sheet at my neck, and rested on my chest.

What the hell is he doing up there? I thought frantically. It didn't help my disposition that there wasn't a mirror in front of me - it ruined a transformation, in the ever-so insightful mind of Lance.

"Oh Lance, it looks wonderful so far," Mom's voice dripped with praise as I felt more ringlets of my hair softly fall past the sides of my face.

Forget hair.. I rationalized with sarcasm.

I wear a helmet on ice; I'm covered there. Shenado Conner pulled off the bald look in the eighties, I could help bring it back in style. On the other hand, looking like Mr. Clean's counterpart didn't exactly have a whole lot of appeal to it either.

Heidi interrupted my thoughts as her face came into my peripheral view as, after what seemed like hours and yards of hair.

"Oh wow," her words didn't exactly fill me with encouragement as she said exactly what I feared:

"You look like a completely different person."

"Thanks," I glared at her.

"No, I'm serious!" She exclaimed, widening her eyes. "It looks great."

So before I looked.. I didn't have time to wonder long, for Lance clapped his hands together near my left ear, making me jump.

"Now now!" He proclaimed loudly, shaking his hands excitedly. "I've only begun to crack the surface."

I just hope there's something left more than the 'surface,' I thought as he pulled me to my feet and steered me toward another chair. Sitting down and blinking from the row of large, circular bulbs in front of me, my eyes widened at my reflection in the mirror below them.

I'm not sure what heavenly magic Lance must've pulled out of his ass, but Heidi certainly was right! Where long frizzies had previously fell down my back, large round curls now framed my face. Turning my head, I relaxed with relief when I saw it still hung a bit lower than my shoulder line.

"Now," Lance instantly grabbed my attention as his palm clamped over my head. "Now what to do for the big night."

"How about something with braids?" Mom waved a YM magazine in front of us, pointing to the cover picture. I cringed at how the girl's nearly six hundred tiny braids cluttered the image with her frizzy bangs. As someone with an ongoing war with frizz, I couldn't understand why someone would purposely go for that look.

"Oh no," Lance finally won back a few points with me as he batted the magazine away with his hand. "Not with her face structure. Lindsey's cheeks are a bit too round to pull off that look, which by the way is not the hottest look right now."

"What exactly is the hottest look?" I was afraid to ask. With my luck it'd probably be something with fur.

"Actually, given the season and your dress, which is just gorgeous Doll, the hottest look for you would be something extremely simple. Accentuating the elegance of absence, I like to call it."

"Umm.. yeah." I mumbled my response, deciding to take his word rather than argue what sounded like a heap of nonsense.

"Let's see, let's see," he mused, grabbing all of my hair in his hands and piling it atop my head. At each shift of his hands, my eyes grew wider, as the pile of hair seemed to grow larger.

Please nothing that will resemble Marg Simpson or a beehive. I silently prayed as Mom and Heidi stared in awe at my head. Lance suddenly dropped my hair and cross his arms. For the first time, I was happy to hear Lance's critical voice.

"I just cannot work like this!" He threw his hands up in frustration. All three Williams women looked at him with surprise.

"Everybody out," he sighed dramatically, placing both hands on his cheeks. I glanced at Mom, she glanced at Heidi, and Heidi glanced at me at the same time. There was a moment of silence before all of us moved at the same time to exit the room. Lance chuckled and grabbed my shoulders as I rose out of my seat, sitting me back down.

"Not you," he chuckled. "That'd make it awfully hard for me to style your hair."

"Oh.. sorry," I replied lamely, wondering what would happen with just the two of us. It'd be interesting, at least.

"Finally," Lance sighed with relief as he closed the curtain separating the waiting room from the one we were in. "How you can live with such criticism is beyond me. How.. stifling."

"Interesting perspective," I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat, tugging on the plastic collar that still bound my neck.

"Here, let me take the wrap off," he offered kindly. I breathed a sigh of relief (literally) as he whisked the plastic off me.

"Now," he asked while folding the plastic over in his arms. "What do you want with your hair?"

"Oh! I-i," I stammered, startled at the question. First time I'd been asked that all day.

"I have no idea." I sheepishly admitted.

"Haven't had much time for that option, huh kiddo? Well, I'd like to suggest something simple." Lance reached into the drawers on my left and extracted a relatively thin magazine. Classic Elegance splashed across the front cover in gold swirls of letters.

"Classic elegance, perhaps?" I giggled, taking in the woman on the front cover in a black lace dress, holding a red rose softly against her cheek. Her hair was casually swept behind her head and collected in a bun similar to the one I normally pulled my own hair into every day. Flipping open the magazine, my eyes lit up at the first image I saw. Pointing with my finger, I smiled at Lance.

"Definitely this one. Hair and makeup."

"Oh, good choice girl." Lance clapped his hands together and went to working that magic.When completed, I smiled widely and thanked him graciously. Perhaps the most enjoyable aspect of today was the subdued reactions of Mom and Heidi to my look, given only a nod and a firm smile from the maternal overlord. If only I could expect such a reaction from David.. provided that I didn't throw up all over myself from nerves. Funny, and I hadn't eaten all day, either.

"I guess it's not that bad," I mused, running my hands down the front of my dress. "God bless tummy control panty hose, though."

I must've been standing in the bathroom for the last half hour doing just this, running my fingers over the pile of curls that sat atop my head, dotting my lips with the shade of Mom's lipstick and lining my eyes with a light brown pencil that closely matched that which Lance applied to my face less than an hour ago.

I still couldn't get over the fact that my dress actually fit, let alone had a bit of slack around the middle. Heidi had loaned me a set of almond-colored pearls; my fingers trembled nervously as I slid it around my neck. Closing the clasp seemed nearly impossible.

"Get a grip," I scolded my reflection in the mirror while gripping the edge of the counter tightly. "You've faced hundreds of hockey pucks flying at you on the ice, you can certainly handle one lousy dance."

Ding dong! the front doorbell rang.

Oh, shit. All of the sudden, my head felt light, and my hands trembled furiously when I lifted my hands to my face. This was getting ridiculous.

"Are you done in there?" Heidi banged on the door. Jumping at the noise, I shook myself of my thoughts and quickly slipped my feet into my damn matching shoes, slipped the damn matching purse over my shoulder, and opened the door.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Don't apologize to me," she replied crossly. "Tell it to your date. He's here and ready and so is Mom's camera."

"Great," I grumbled as I pressed past her, wobbling on my heels with each step toward the stairs. As I clumsily clomped one slow step at a time down the stairs, I overheard David's voice conversing dimly with Mom. For fear of her saying anything, I tiptoed quickly down the stairs to join them.

"Hi David," I whispered hoarsely at his back. Unsure of where my voice had disappeared to, I opened my mouth to try again, but found myself again lost for words. A scratchy clearing of the throat would have to suffice.

"Ahem," As he turned around, I didn't notice how his brown hair was neatly combed, his black suit neatly pressed, or the white rose corsage he held in his hand. Instead, my eyes were nervously locked to his, my heart fluttering as they lit up with surprise before he broke into a large smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly.

"Hey Lindsey," After what felt like hours, he opened his mouth with a greeting. Taking in his more-than-pleasant appearance, I finally snapped out of my gaze when the flash of Mom's camera nearly blinded us both.

"Oh!" I blinked furiously. "I mean- Hi."

"You look.. great," David smiled appreciatively.

"Not exactly goalie equipment, huh?" I gestured to my dress.

"Nope." He returned my grin, before adding, "Better."

"Thanks," Given the warm feeling in my cheeks, I'd guess I was blushing.

"Now you two, get together so I can take a picture." Mom instructed. Too bad - I'd nearly forgotten she was there, I realized as I stood robotically next to David, clutching my purse.

"Well, don't you two look.. uncomfortable," Heidi snickered at us. I glanced over and, noticing her sitting on the stairs, sent a nasty glare in her direction.

"Thanks, we're trying." David answered for us. I laughed at his response.

"Thanks."

"No problem." He replied lightly. "By the way, this is for you."

"Oh!" I smiled at the corsage he held out toward me. "It's beautiful."

The snapping of Mom's camera fell on deaf ears as David gently slipped the tiny white roses over my wrist. As his fingers gently brushed against mine as he pulled away, I snapped my face up and caught his eyes. He winked knowingly, and courteously offered his arm out to me.

"Shall we go, m'lady?" I giggled at his horrid impression of an English accent. As I slipped my hand warmly over his forearm, once again my nervousness kicked up to a higher gear. My heart beat loudly in my ears and I could feel my palms sweating as David and I walked outside. My ankles wobbled with every step, and even though I apparently looked like a flabby form of a knockout, I still sent a small prayer skyward that I'd be able to get through this.