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I’m not telling where else they waxed. They tried to glue fake eyelashes on me, but after the waxing, I got a bit hysterical, put my foot down.
    “You should get your money back from that haircut.” He guzzles down his carton of milk and eyes my apple.
    “Meadow’s mom paid.” I roll my apple over to him. “She’s the mastermind behind the madness. She got her stylist to fit me in.” He washed, conditioned, hot oiled, relaxed, and dumped an entire bottle of detangler on my hair—like I’m a bag lady who never brushed it. Then he ironed it flat, cut long layers, and a “fringe” that I can’t keep out of my eyes. “Meadow’s mom wanted him to dye it, but they ran out of time.”
    “What color?” Scott takes a big bite of my apple.
    “Maybe blonde.” I shove the bangs out of my eyes, but they fall right back into them. “I stormed out of there in the middle of the debate. I don’t want to be blonde. Can you imagine me blonde?”
    “No.” He reaches over and slides my bangs out of my eyes for me. “Your hair color is nice.”
    “Mousy brown? Kiss it good-bye. How do you think I’ll look with highlights?”
    He puts the apple down, gets serious. “Just like the rest of them.”
    “That’s the idea.”
    “But it isn’t you.” He stares hard right into my hyper-magnified eyeballs. “I thought they wanted you .”
    “They want a star. Meadow’s mom says my nose is okay. We don’t have time to change that, anyway.”
    Meadow gave me a bag of bra inserts. Since her surgery, she doesn’t need them anymore. Gross. I’m not using her cast-off inserts. Next Saturday we’re all getting measured for our new performance wardrobe. Then Meadow’s mom, Meadow and I—I begged Leah and Sarah to come along to keep it sane—are going shopping for the perfect push-up bra, designer jeans, and scoop-neck tops that show off my “striking clavicle.”
    Scott puts his hand on my arm. “Will I recognize you when they’re done?”
    “Just look for the tall girl with highlights bumping into things.”
    “No plans to cut your legs off?” He glances down at my jeans.
    “Shhh. She’s got spies everywhere. We don’t want to give her ideas.” My cell buzzes. I jump.
    “Poor Bethie. I’ve never seen you like this. Are you sure it’s worth it?”
    “To sing on the world stage? What do you think?” I pull my cell out of my Levi’s pocket and glance at the screen.
    “Is it her?”
    I nod. “Her mom’s cosmetic team can see me Thursday morning. Want to come? Hold my hand?”
    He takes the cell from me and studies the screen. “What’s this about lasers?”
    “Erases the scars.”
    “You trust these guys?”
    “Meadow’s mom could pass for her sister. They must be pretty good.”
    “You really want me to come?” His hand slips down my arm to squeeze mine. The sweet side of him oozes out. I like it today. I need some honey.
    “No. That would make it worse.” I pull my hand out of his and take back my cell. “They aren’t doing anything drastic. Just the laser treatments on the scars. Something new for the zits. No collagen shots for my lips or anything like that.”
    “Your lips are really beautiful.” He stares at my mouth, kind of hungry. “They are so expressive when you sing.” He traces my lips with the tip of his finger. His voice gets husky. “Don’t let them touch your lips.”
    I’m stunned speechless.
    Scott really needs to get a girlfriend. I should tell him that. He’s a heart melter. Mine is doing strange things. I should encourage him to find somebody, but I don’t want to mess up this moment. I’m sure he doesn’t realize what he’s doing to me. How effective that wispy wave of blond hair over his left eye is.
    I should tell him. He needs to know. He’ll never figure it out on his own, but I’m going to need him over the next few weeks. Something real to hang on to while Meadow’s crazy mother hacks away at the rest of me. If Scott gets involved with a perky short