Purple

Chapter 1

James had a big room. He had an HDTV, a desk, a chest of drawers, and even a queen-sized bed, all to his twelve-year-old self. His desk faced the window, which faced the back yard, which was a wild garden that crawled with mysteries. I loved James' room. That first summer, I spent more time there than I did in my own home, just next door.
He used to cut my hair. Before him, I kept my hair ridiculously long, like a girl. The one time I tried to cut it myself, I ended up with nothing more than ugly black tufts peppering my scalp.
My mom just stared at me then, when she came home in the harsh light of dawn. With my hair being what it was and my face puffed up from a full night of crying, I must have looked especially ugly.
She parted her red lips.
“What are you doing up?” she said.
“I cut it,” I said. I started crying again. “I cut it all off.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“I'm so sorry, Mom,” I said. “I'm sorry!”
She sighed, her face high above me and painted. “Just go to your room, Riley,” she said.
Sniffling, I went to my room.
James was different. He cut my hair like he had years of experience, or so it seemed to me, at the time. He concentrated on my head like it was a math problem, and he cut every strand of hair like his life depended on it.
We did it in his room. He had mirrors on his closet doors that always seemed to watch over us. He sat me down on his desk chair and rolled me over fast enough to make me laugh. Putting a towel around my neck, he asked me to stay very still, or he'll accidentally cut my ear off. We argued at length about whether this was possible or not, but we did get down to the actual cutting, eventually.
I always closed my eyes. I didn't like staring at myself, and James didn't like me staring at him. I shut my eyes, but in my mind's eye, I pictured what he looked like, hovering around me.
Snip. Snip snip. Snip.
His fingers brush my ears, startling me. He laughs at my reaction. I keep my eyes closed, but I know what his smile looks like, all teeth and scrunched eyes.
Snip. Snip. Snip.
It's the late afternoon and James has his blinds up, making the darkness behind my eyelids not black but orange. It's easy to imagine what the sun looks like on James' dark brown hair, the way it glows red and shines gold.
Snip snip snip.
He threads his fingers through my hair, gentle and slow. He's tugging at the ends a little, to see if they're even. I stay steady, as still as a statue. I wonder if he's smiling at my efforts, or if he's too distracted by my hair to notice.
Snip snip.
I guess it wasn't perfect, but that's okay. I trust him.
Snip.
“There!” he says. “All done.” He musses my freshly-cut hair. “Open your eyes, Riley.”
I open my eyes.
There's James, looking at me in the mirror, and he smiles so proudly at what he's accomplished that I look at me too.
I'm just two years young than James, but I'm very tiny next to him. I have a tiny nose, tiny eyes, and tiny hands. I wonder if it's because I'm Asian, or if it's because of my mom. Compared to me, James is a giant. But the way that he looks at me when we're together, it's like I'm a giant too.
“You like it?” he says, almost nervously.
“Yeah,” I say. “I like it.”
He laughs, pumping his fist in the air. “See, I told you I could do it! Now you actually look like a boy.” He musses my hair again, making me squint. “Next time your hair gets long again, just come over and I'll fix it right up, okay? You're a boy, so you shouldn't go around looking like a girl!”
At the time, I nodded, laughing with him, reveling in the feel of cool air on the back of my neck.
Now, I wonder. It could have been different, maybe. If I hadn't been a boy, if you hadn't seen me as a girl. James, I wonder. Maybe we could have been different.