As I walked outside the crisp autumn wind blew through my hair. I heard the crunching of the autumn leaves, the colors of the leaves, matching my scarf. It was a good day, and my hair began to turn to its regular auburn color. The sky was bright and blue, with no clouds in sight. I walked out into the somewhat busy street along the side. I passed one of my favorite bakeries, barely able to walk by. I stepped into my favorite coffee shops and ordered my usual, a regular coffee with a dash of peppermint. I sat down at my regular table, near the back corner by the window with just the right amount of sunlight. I pulled out my drawing tablet and pen and got to work. I added more and more detail as I went, but I glanced up to get more inspiration. In my world, hair color changes based on emotion. As I searched the room, I noticed a guy around my age, staring in my direction. His hair was bright pink. He had dark grey eyes and slicked back hair. I blushed, so did he and our faces were as flushed as our locks. He stood up and walked in my direction. I smiled as he sat down across from me. Then, I recognized him from my photography classes.
“Do you go to Lunaria College?” He asked. I nodded and adjusted my beanie. His hair returned to its original color, which was dark brown. He looked into my eyes, and I looked back into his. Close up his eyes weren’t only dark grey, but silver. I tucked my naturally curly hair behind my ear.
“Well...We DO have a group project coming up. Want to be my partner?” He smiled.
“Of course! I mean...Sure, why not?“I tried to sound casual.
“I’m Alex.” He told me.
“Mia.” And I told him mine. So we exchanged numbers and parted ways. I walked back down the road and saw the bakery again, and I couldn’t resist. I stepped into Amy’s Bakery and the smell of fresh muffins filled my nose.
“Hey, Mia!” The owner of the shop, Amy greeted me. She’s also my best friend. Her yellow hair turned back to its original black. Yellow hair signifies stress.
“Busy day?” I asked.
“It was packed. This lady came in claiming that she knew the owner and that if I didn’t give her a free muffin she would get me fired. Her hair turned bright red and she stormed out when I told her I was the manager.” She said tucking back her stray hairs. She always wears a tight braid but today there were stray hairs everywhere, and her braid was very loose. She had droopy eyes too. I reached over the counter and adjusted her glasses before leaning back. I hopped over the counter and took her hair down and pulled it into a high ponytail. It lifted her face up more, and she looked more awake. She brought me into the pantry and handed me my favorite muffin, pumpkin with sugar on top. I peeled away the paper around it and began munching on it. I poured myself a coffee, practicing my latte art. I sat in the breakroom for a while, tending to Amy’s 6-year-old niece. Before I knew it, it was closing time. I grabbed an extra muffin to go and said my goodbyes to Amy. I helped her close up the store and left. I headed up the stairs to my dorm, and a note was taped to my door. It was from Alex.