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Cindy's Journey – Missteps and a Turning Point

Three Weeks Later(Late September)

Cindy had put on her worst behavior when she entered Concordance that fall, but no one seemed to take much notice. Rebellious girls were nothing new to them so they took her behavior in stride – at least until classes began. There was no doubt about what was expected of every girl in class. But self control was not one of Cindy's virtues. She had been late to several classes the first week and received demerits. She had not turned in an assignment due the following Monday and had received additional demerits. 

When she violated lights out twice resulting in demerits for all of her roommates she discovered that she was in trouble with them also.

“What is wrong with you Cindy? This is ridiculous. I don't need you messing me up. I have problems enough without you making it worse,” Karen exploded at her the next morning when Cindy had turned her light on after lights out and had been caught a second time.

“That's right. We don't need it Cindy. You kept doing it even after you got caught. The last time you did it you could barely get up in the morning. You're acting like a spoiled brat,” Luanne complained.

It was Jolene who settled the issue. She had become the acknowledged leader in their room. “Cindy, we're not going to let it happen again. We have to live together and you have to follow the rules. We'll take action if you try it again. I'm sure we can handle it. We are not going to get demerits just because you insist on breaking the rules.”

“You're all a bunch of wimps. Bunch of little goody two shoes,” Cindy said defiantly.

“It's not us, it's you Cindy. You can keep on acting like a jerk, but you won't get away with it no matter where you are. Keep it up and you'll mess up your life big time. It's just being stupid,” Karen told her.

Once again Cindy had received a rude reminder that her behavior wasn't going to be accepted, even by her peers.

Cindy managed to control her impulses for the next two weeks, but then she got a very poor grade on the first test in American history. Things went down hill quickly downhill.

“Cindy, there's no excuse for you getting a score like this. All you needed to do was read the assignments and you could have done well enough. You need to get serious about your studies,” Ms. Bramwell told her when she handed her her test paper and score.

“I don't care. I hate history. I don't want to learn anything about it. It's just dumb,” Cindy burst out in obvious anger.

“I think you need to change your attitude Cindy,” Ms. Bramwell said quietly.  

“I don't give a shit what you think,” Cindy exploded in anger and frustration.

“Indeed,” Ms. Bramwell said calmly. She watched for a moment as Cindy stormed off having thrown the test paper on the floor.

Nothing happened until near the end of lunch. Then the public address system announced: “Cindy Davis report immediately to your advisor in room two fourteen.”

There was a momentary hush, then the buzz of voices resumed, but considerably subdued. The majority of the students had heard that particular announcement in the past and knew what it meant – the girl whose name was called had messed up big time.

Cindy looked around her at the other girls, but they concentrated on whatever they were doing and kept their eyes away from Cindy. Finally she got up determined not to give anyone a chance to say anything to her. The door to the main part of the Admin building was monitored by two senior girls, one of whom had a short buzz cut.  Ordinarily their only job was to keep the dining room from getting too rowdy. Today they would escort Cindy to her advisor's office on the second floor.

One of the girls, Heather, led the way while Mandy – the one with the buzz cut - walked just behind.

When they reached room two fourteen, Heather knocked discretely on the door.

 “Come in,” Mr. Garrison answered.

Mandy opened the door and stepped aside so that Cindy could enter.

Cindy walked in, her body rigid and her face flushed.

“Have a seat Cindy,” Mr. Garrison said to her, then nodded to Heather who closed the door.

“You seem to be having some difficulties adjusting to Concordance Cindy. Perhaps you can enlighten me,” Mr. Garrison said to her.

Cindy remained mute, refusing to answer him.

“I see. I don't think whatever you're trying to do is going to work. I hope you understand that,” Mr. Garrison said.

“I'm getting out of this place one way or another. I'll get myself expelled.” Cindy retorted.

“Well, it is possible to get expelled from Concordance, but I doubt that you'll like the alternative,” Mr. Garrison said in his soft, calm manner.

“What are you talking about. I'll get expelled and go home,” Cindy spat.

“That's not how it works Cindy. We're not going to expel you for what you've done or even failing all your classes or piling up a years worth of detention penalties. We've been given broad discretionary authority by your parents. We're doing you and them a considerable favor by accepting you here at Concordance. How long do you suppose it would have been before you ended up in juvenile detention? Not long.   And you know that Concordance has zero tolerance for violence, fighting and damaging or destroying school property. That would put you in juvenile detention very quickly. So short of that, if you don't want to cooperate you can be here until you're eighteen. You won't get a diploma. No college will accept you. And if you continue the way you're going your parents could petition the court that you're incorrigible and turn you over to the courts.   Or you could find yourself on the street with no place to live and no prospect of a job. There are plenty of ways to make a mess of things,” Mr. Garrison stopped and waited patiently for Cindy to respond.

“I hate it here. I want to get out. I don't care about that stuff. I'm not going to cooperate. You might as well expel me and let me go home.” Cindy said vehemently.

“We won't do that, but you will suffer the consequences of your behavior. Life is going to be hard for you until you learn to control yourself and cooperate. You will report to Ms. Hanson's shop immediately. You are restricted to your room for the next four weeks except for going to class, meals, the library and athletics practice. You will not participate in any campus activities or in any of the games either on or off campus. You will report to Ms. Hanson's shop each Friday at one PM,” Mr. Garrison handed down his penalty.   “I will escort you to Ms. Hanson's shop now.”

Mr. Garrison taught biology and coached the senior lacrosse team. He had been on a championship lacrosse team in college. Tall, slender and athletic he towered over Cindy. Cindy was chagrined at being walked across campus by Mr. Garrison, but that didn't cool down her angry rebelliousness. If anything it inflamed it. Mr. Garrison had nothing more to say during their brisk walk to the shop.

As they entered the shop Cindy noted that they seem to be expected. There were two girls sitting waiting to get trims. Ms. Hanson was alertly standing behind her chair. Cindy looked around seeking an opening or a chance to escape, but Mr. Garrison stood too close to the door for that. 

“Please have a seat here Cindy,” Ms. Hanson said, only a hint of disapproval slipping into her businesslike tone.

Remembering Jolene's statement that they could restrain her if needed, Cindy finally got into the barber chair and sat down.

Ms. Hanson quickly snapped a cape around her neck. Her big clipper already had a quarter inch guard on it. Cindy's buzzing proceeded with machine like swiftness. There was no finesse, no effort to do anything except strip Cindy of her hair in the most efficient manner possible. It took less than five minutes.

Ms. Hanson brushed her off and removed the cape without another word to Cindy. “Next,” she said addressing the two sitting girls, who sat with mouths agape at Cindy's brutally abrupt shearing.

Mr. Garrison broke the spell. “You may go to your room Cindy. Your hall Mother is expecting you. Don't keep her waiting.”

Cindy headed to her room considerably subdued for the moment. She was still furious at her parents and at Concordance. Her latest transgressions would be posted as was that of every other girl who had received demerits. Unbeknownst to Cindy she had gotten off easy. Ms. Bramwell had only reported that Cindy had sworn in her presence, not that she had sworn at Ms. Bramwell. Of course her failing grade would also be reported along with all the other violations that she had incurred. She was rapidly ascending to the top of the list in terms of demerits accumulated.

She would miss the next social, which would be at Barrett-Meason Academy, an elite boarding school for “Young Men” only twenty five miles from Concordance. The word was that there were lots of cute guys there. Cindy told herself that she didn't care.

When Jolene arrived only a few minutes after Cindy had reported to Ms. Godfry, her hall Mother, and went into their room where she lay down on her bunk. Cindy sat up and glared at her daring her to make a remark. Jolene already knew what had happened and was quite nonchalant – greeting Cindy and going about her business as though nothing had happened. Cindy fumed for a while then settled at her desk and began to work halfheartedly on her assignments. Jolene had also settled into her desk chair and was concentrating on her work.   Three weeks of observing Jolene's determined work habits and a few pointed reminders had made it clear that disturbing Jolene was not at all wise. Jolene was by far the biggest of the four girls. She was already five feet nine and a hundred and forty five pounds, most of it muscle from her workouts. She was also a substitute forward on the junior basketball team where she was improving rapidly. Cindy held her peace while she made a desultory effort to work on one of her assignments.

Two hours later Luanne arrived and like Jolene she greeted Cindy without offering any comment on her freshly buzzed head. She too quickly settled down to business. Cindy wanted to scream. She wanted someone to make some comment so she could vent her feelings and let out her frustration. Her roommates seemingly had conspired to make that impossible. Karen arrived a few minutes later from her gym class and field hockey practice just as Cindy and Jolene were preparing to leave. She too greeted Cindy and the others as though nothing had changed. After a brief rest on her bunk she settled down to work on her assignments.

At five thirty all four girls had reassembled in their room in preparation for going to the dining hall. They chatted mostly about how hard their gym workouts and practices had been. Cindy barely participated, but did manage to keep her occasional comment civil. 

As they walked toward the hall Karen spoke, “Why don't you join us at our table Cindy.”

“Good idea Karen,” Jolene agreed.

Cindy had been trying to find some girls who were, as she put it, “not wimps.” What she had found was that most of the girls who had suffered the consequence of their behavior or, more frequently, poor marks had no interest in joining Cindy's rebellion. Now she was being invited by her roommates to join them despite the fact that she had been responsible for them getting demerits. The invitation caught her by surprise. “Uh, OK,” she responded. She had assumed that they would do what they had been doing. Cindy had been splitting with them and heading off to a group that included a couple other girls who shared a bit of her rebelliousness. Her roommates had usually settled at a table with a group of girls who shared their sports enthusiasm. Tonight – despite her anger – she was in no mood to deal with the jibes that she knew would be directed at her by the other rebellious girls. 

They neared the dinning hall and encountered other groups of girls.

“Well, would you look at that,” another girl said pointing out Cindy.

“Can it Mandy,” Jolene responded instantly, before Cindy had a chance to reply. She had stepped forward to walk directly beside Cindy as Mandy joined the throng moving toward the dinning room.

Mandy noted Jolene's slight scowl and her obvious body language and hurried on ahead without another words.

Despite the prohibition against taunting girls who had suffered one of the haircut punishments, it was a common practice, especially among newcomers.

Cindy found herself surrounded by her roommates. Jolene on her right, Karen on her left and Luanne walking a little ahead.

The four of them entered the hall and got in line to pick up their trays and food. It wasn't until they were taking their trays to the table that anything more happened. Helen, who was in the same history class as Cindy, started to make a remark.

“Must have taken a lot of effort to screw up like tha...” she got out before Karen and Luanne intervened.

“Zip it Helen,” Karen said in a low voice that carried the kind of warning that brooked no reply. With Luanne standing shoulder to shoulder beside Karen, the message was unequivocal. Helen turned away and headed toward her table.

The four of them sat down at a table with six other girls, one of whom was on Cindy's soccer squad. Their conversation wandered over many topics as usual although their sports returned a number of times.

“Cindy, you've been getting better really fast. I think you could be a starter pretty soon,” Deanna, her teammate said.

Cindy looked down at her food. After a long silence she replied.

“I'm restricted for a month. I have to practice, but I can't play,” Cindy said.

“Bummer,” Deanna replied. “We need you.”

A realization began to slowly take shape in Cindy's mind. Her roommates and teammates cared about her.

When they returned to their room she queried them.

“Why did you guys do that stuff,” Cindy asked.

“What stuff. Oh you mean telling Mandy and Helen to keep their remarks to themselves?” Karen asked.

“Yeah,” Cindy replied.

“I guess it's that we're a team whether we like it or not. So when someone says something to you we consider that they said it to us too,” Luanne said.

“That's right Cindy. In a way we're kind of a family. It doesn't matter what you did. Nobody has the right to make stupid remarks,” Karen agreed.

It was a decidedly unusual experience for Cindy. She couldn't quite cope with the idea that they could disapprove of her behavior and still be willing to stand up for her.

“I don't get it. What's in it for you?” Cindy asked.

“It's hard to explain, Cindy,” Luanne said. “I think it's self-respect for me. I know I'm doing the right thing.”

Cindy's cutting retort somehow didn't get past her lips. She choked and coughed.

“Wha...uh, OK, I guess,” she managed to get out before she sat down at her desk and tried to get her mind on studying.

Cindy was still angry at her parents and she still didn't want to be at Concordance, but a seed had been planted.

Her buzz cut had made a small difference in her behavior. Her roommates' attitude had made another small dent as had her teammates on the soccer squad. It was enough to tone done her overtly unacceptable behavior. In a short three weeks Cindy had made the journey from long center parted straight hair on a self-centered rebellious young girl to somewhat subdued, but still defiant girl with a short buzz cut. 

Four Weeks Later – Friday

 

Cindy's grades improved, but she was still not performing at the expected level. So a few days short of nine weeks since she had entered Concordance she was back in Mr. Garrison's office.

“Cindy your grades have improved quite a bit, but you history grades are still too low. You need to put in some extra work on that subject,” Mr. Garrison said.

“I hate that class. I can never remember the dates of those stupid battles,” Cindy complained.

“Almost everyone runs into a class that gives them trouble. You just have to work harder at them. I'm happy to tell you that your restrictions have been lifted, but your history grades have still not been acceptable. Ms. Mitchell will be expecting you on Saturday morning no later than ten AM,” Mr. Garrison announced.

Cindy nodded and stood up. After a moment of hesitation with her thoughts muddled, she started for the door then stopped and turned back. “Thank you Mr. Garrison,” she said. 

Mr. Garrison looked up in surprise. “No need to thank me Cindy. You're the one who had to do the hard work.”

Cindy's swirling thoughts almost made her dizzy. What hard work had she done? She wasn't at all sure what he meant.

Saturday morning she arrived at the 'Groomery' at nine fifteen. She had gotten up a little earlier than her roommates. She had a soccer practice and didn't want to be late. Soccer was the one aspect of Concordance that she had come to accept and to take pride in. She worked hard and was the number one substitute for the team. It was the one place and activity where she could forget about her anger at her parents and feel a sense of being in charge.

Ms. Mitchell greeted her as she came into the shop. “Hello Cindy. I'll be with you as soon as I finish Joyce.”

“OK,” Cindy responded as she sat down.

Ms. Mitchell chatted with the girl whose chestnut colored hair she was cutting.   It was a chin length bob with wide bangs. Just as she was finishing, Luanne arrived and spotted Cindy.

“Hi Cindy. I wondered why you were up so early. You have a soccer practice don't you,” she asked.

“Yeah, but I messed up in history class and I have to keep my head buzzed and I didn't want to be late.” Cindy explained. “I not on restriction though.”

That single sentence represented a major change in Cindy's attitude. To admit that she was responsible for her failure in her history class marked a turning point of sorts.

“You're next Cindy,” Ms. Mitchell said, forestalling any further conversation.

Cindy dutifully got into the chair, having come to some accommodation with her fate. She had found herself grudgingly accepting her buzz and even appreciating the freedom that it provided. That seemed strange to her. She told herself that she wanted her long hair back, but it lacked conviction, even to herself.

Ms. Mitchell fastened the cape around Cindy, snapped the number two guide on the clipper and began a rapid traversal of her head. It wasn't the fast and harsh clippering that distinguished her first buzz at the hands of Ms. Hanson, but still it was quick and efficient. She spoke only once.

“I'm glad to see that your restrictions have been lifted,” Ms. Mitchell told her.

After a long pause Cindy finally responded. “Thanks.”

A few more passes and Ms. Mitchell was finished.

“OK, Cindy. Next!” Ms. Mitchell said as she removed the cape from around Cindy, shook it and held it for Luanne who quickly took a seat.

“See you later Cindy,” Luanne said.

Cindy paused at the door then turned.

“I'll see you at dinner,” Cindy said.

“OK. We'll all be there at the usual table if you don't make it back to the room.” Luanne responded.

A week later Cindy was again in the 'Groomery' and again it was early, about nine fifteen in the morning. A girl that she didn't know was just leaving.

“Come on in Cindy. I can get right to you,” Ms. Mitchell greeted her.

Cindy got in the barber chair where Ms. Mitchell fastened a cape around her.   Just as she started to buzz Cindy, Jolene arrived.

“Hi Cindy. I didn't expect to see you here this early,” Jolene greeted her.

“Hi Jolene. I always come early. I don't want to be late for soccer practice.”

Ms. Mitchell was already busy buzzing Cindy's head. To Cindy she seemed to have taken a more relaxed approach toward Cindy's buzzing since the first buzz that had occurred at the hands of Ms. Hanson. At least it appeared that way to Cindy.   Today's buzz was almost relaxed compared to earlier ones. 

“You'll have fun at the social tonight,” Ms. Mitchell said.

“The guys will think I'm a freak or butch or something. I don't think I'll go,” Cindy replied.

“I think you may be surprised. You're a good looking girl. Nobody is going to mistake you for what you aren't,” Ms. Mitchell told her.

“You've got to go Cindy. The last one was really fun and several of the girls with buzzes had neat guys hanging out with them. Besides James has been emailing me almost every day since the last social and if anyone's a freak it's me,” Jolene told her as she ran her hand over her nearly bald head.

Cindy sat stoically while Ms. Mitchell buzzed her head. She did it methodically, certainly more slowly than the earlier buzzes. She even took the time to do a short fade on the side and back and to trim around Cindy's ears and along her hairline in the back converting what would have been an unceremonious shearing into a neat and finished style. Cindy found herself actually enjoying the attention and the feel of the clippers on her head.

“I'll think about it. Maybe I'll come after all,” Cindy responded.

Ms. Mitchell brushed her off and removed the cape. “There you go Cindy,” she said in a voice that was not brusque, as had been the case on previous occasions, but seemed almost cheerful.

Cindy got out of the barber chair and turned toward Jolene who had gotten up to get in the barber chair that she had just vacated.

“I'll wait till you're done Jolene. We can go to the gym together,” Cindy said. Cindy had several motives. She was curious about Jolene's clippering, which she had never observed, and somehow she had begun to feel a kinship with Jolene who had stood up for her six weeks earlier.

“You certainly do have a nice head Jolene. I never imagined that I would be doing this on a girl, but I must admit you certainly look good,” Ms. Mitchell complimented her as she turned on her finishing clipper and began running it up the back of Jolene's head.

“I've gotten used to it too. At first I thought I wouldn't like it much, but now it seems pretty cool. I don't miss my bob. That was a lot of hassle. And my boyfriend likes it like this,” Jolene said, a flush becoming visible even on her medium dark brown skin.

Cindy watched with growing interest as Ms. Hanson carefully ran the small clipper over Jolene's head. It was obvious that Jolene's hair had grown even in the short week since its last clippering. Cindy could see the difference where Ms. Hanson's clipper had passed.

In little more than five minutes Jolene's head appeared to be smooth, whereas before there had been a noticeable amount of dark hair covering it, giving it a much darker look. Now it looked almost identical to her neck and face. Cindy was surprised at the difference, which had developed so gradually during the week between clipperings that she had barely noticed.

“Wow, Jolene. You look super with it like that!” Cindy exclaimed.

“Thanks, Cindy. I like it. James thinks I should shave it smooth, but he likes it like this,” Jolene said. Maybe before one of the socials I'll shave it,” Jolene said.

“If that's what you would like, just come here and I'll do it for you. Of course it would grow out a little before the social,” Ms. Mitchell offered. “There, you're all done Jolene.”

“Maybe you should get it shaved,” Cindy said smiling. We'd better get going. I don't want to be late.” 

Sunday afternoon about three PM the boys from Barrett-Meason arrived for their second social visit. Their first visit had been the second week of September. In October the Concordance girls had visited the Academy. That was when Jolene and James had gotten together in earnest. At the first meeting he had noticed her, but Jolene had been reticent, not expecting a “white boy” from upstate New York to be interested in her. James was a Junior but only about six months older than Jolene who had turned fifteen a few days before school had started in September.

Cindy had attended the first social but she had been so wrapped up in her own anger and rebellion that she had been less than civil to everyone she met. She watched as James quickly singled out Jolene and approached her with a smile on his face. He reached out and they clasped hands. She couldn't hear what was said, but he leaned over and gave her a quick kiss.

The throng began to break up into several large groups as a few couples wandered away. Cindy was in a group with Luanne and some of her teammates. They chatted for a while as the group slowly broke up as smaller groups and several couples headed to the gym which had been set up as a movie theater. Others wandered toward the Cave and some ended up just sitting in the picnic area and talking. It was a pleasant warm fall day in this southern environment and a light sweater was entirely sufficient for being outside.

Cindy found herself with a boy that she didn't remember having seen before.

“That's a good looking buzz cut,” he told Cindy.

“I don't need any sarcasm,” Cindy snapped. She looked at his name tag which read “Gene.”

“No sarcasm. I know how you got it. It still looks good on you,” he responded.

“Girls aren't supposed to have their heads buzzed. I hate it,” Cindy responded without much heat.

“I like the way short hair looks on girls. You look really good with it like that,” he reiterated.

“That's hard to believe. Girls are supposed to have long hair.”

“That's not the way I see it. I don't like long hair. It's always hanging in front of their faces and girls are always pushing it back, flipping it around and doing stuff with it. It's annoying. When it short you can talk to them without being distracted by their messing with their hair,” he explained.

“You really like short hair on girls, even as short as this?” Cindy asked him obviously still skeptical.

“You really do look good with it buzzed Cindy. Come on let's go get one of those great shakes that they make in the cave,” Gene said as he reached out for her hand.

Still somewhat mystified at his reaction, she let him take her hand. “OK.”

An hour later they were walking along one of the trails. Gene seems genuinely interested in her. He talked about himself only if she asked a pointed question. Mostly he encouraged her talk about herself. He was content to let her vent her feelings about how unfair her parents were, and how much she hated having to be at Concordance. Finally she lapsed into silence and they walked quietly for a while.

“I like walking in the woods like this. It helps me get thing sorted out and figure out what I doing and where I'm going. I'm definitely going to college and maybe to graduate school in archeology. What about you?” Gene asked.

“I don't know. Everything seems crazy. I don't know what I want to do. I just don't want to be here, and I'm afraid my parents will throw me out,” Cindy responded bitterly.

“They sent you here. So they didn't throw you out. Concordance is an expensive school. Sounds like they care about you,” Gene said. He was well aware that many of the girls at Concordance were there because of some serious transgressions or even having gotten caught breaking the law.

“Yeah, I guess they do,” Cindy acknowledged reluctantly.

The rest of the afternoon and evening proceeded uneventfully. Gene remained with Cindy through dinner and the movie in the gym afterwards. When it was time for the boys to board the three buses that had brought them to Concordance Gene was still with Cindy.

“I'll email you. What's your address?” Gene asked.

“It's CindyDavis at Concord dot EDU” Cindy answered.

“Thanks. Here's mine,” Gene said as he handed her a small card.

The stood near the buses quietly for a few minutes finally Gene spoke.

“I like being with you Cindy. Are you coming to Barrett-Meason the next time?”

“Are you going to be there?” Cindy asked.

“Of course,” Gene replied.

“OK, then I'll come,” Cindy answered.

Gene emitted a little laugh then leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

“Good,” Gene responded. “Don't stand me up.”

Cindy laughed for the first time in many weeks. “I won't.”

That night, for the first time since arriving at Concordance Cindy went to sleep with thoughts and feelings that were not laced with anger and resentment.

Three Weeks Later - Friday

Mid-term exams had occurred on all her classes earlier in the week. Cindy knew that she had done reasonably well in four of her classes, but she also knew that she had done poorly in her American History class. Just how poorly she learned on Friday morning when the scores were posted. The expected call came during lunch and she was soon sitting in Mr. Garrison's office.

“Well Cindy History Class seems to have become quite an issue with you. You failed your mid-term exam badly and that counts twenty five percent toward your grade. You're doing well in your other classes and some of them are more difficult than history. Perhaps you can enlighten me,” Mr. Garrison asked without any rancor in his voice.

“I don't know. I just can't make myself study it. It's as though I have a mental block.   I still don't want to be here and I'm still mad at my parents for sending me here.” Cindy said, although only a small part of her was still the demonstrably rebellious Cindy of two and a half months earlier.

“You can get through those things Cindy. You've already done a lot. I think you already see things more clearly,” Mr. Garrison said.

“I guess so,” Cindy answered not quite sure what Mr. Garrison was talking about.

“I've talked to your parents and I think it's time that you know the whole story of why you came here,” Mr. Garrison told her.

“I thought I already knew. I got bad grades last year and I got in some trouble last summer, so they got mad and sent me here to punish me,” Cindy said bitterly.

“That's not quite how it happened Cindy. You had been caught shoplifting. You know that of course, but what you don't know is that one of the other girls identified you as part of their shoplifting gang. After that three other merchants identified you from pictures shown them and said that you were one of the girls that had been seen shoplifting in their stores, but they had been too late to apprehend you. You remember that your parents had a private meeting with the Judge. The Judge had been ready to send you to juvenile detention, but he agreed to postpone that decision for a month while your parents looked for a special school for juvenile delinquents where you could be sent. They contacted Concordance and based on your past behavior, before you started now that other road, Concordance agreed to accept you,” Mr. Garrison told her.

“So one of my so-called friends finked on me. So what? My parents sent me here,” Cindy said her anger slowly building up.

“I told you before that being here was better than the alternative when you talked about getting expelled. The Judge's agreement to let you come here came with a condition. If you left Concordance for any reason, you would go immediately to Juvenile Detention for a year which could be reduced to six months based on good behavior,” Mr. Garrison told her. “Judge Zorn is not known for his leniency.”

Cindy was speechless for a while.

“You mean that if I were expelled you would send me to Juvenile Detention?” Cindy asked in disbelief.

“We wouldn't send you, but the Judge's order was quite clear. We would have to inform his office of the expulsion, and the Sheriff would send a car to pick you up and take you to the Juvenile Detention Center here. Even if your parents chose to take you out of school, more or less the same thing would happen. And of course even worse could happen if you managed to run away,” Mr. Garrison informed her. “We don't have a choice in the matter. We have to obey the Judge's order or risk losing our license to run this school.”

Cindy was having trouble assimilating what she had just heard. The seriousness of the trouble that she was in was slow to penetrate.   Finally she understood.

“I have to stay here don't I?” Cindy asked.

“That would be the most appropriate decision you could make Cindy. You parents have given you the best possible option. But it's up to you to make the most of it,” Mr. Garrison said.

“What happens if I fail my history class? Would you throw me out?” Cindy asked beginning to see how close to the brink she had come.

“No, failing one class puts you behind and you'll have to repeat it, perhaps during the Summer. The failure will be on your record and will pull down your GPA, but it's more important to do well afterwards. That always makes a difference,” Mr. Garrison explained.

“I screwed up pretty badly didn't I,” Cindy said, finally admitting it to herself .

“You're not the first and won't be the last. That's a cliché of course, but it's true. You're a smart young woman. You can easily overcome the obstacles you've erected for yourself” Mr. Garrison told her.

“Shit,” Cindy said softly. “I'm sorry Mr. Garrison, that just came out.”

“I didn't hear anything Cindy. We have one other matter to resolve. You did fail that mid-term exam and there's a consequence for that, as I'm sure you know. You will not be allowed to participate in soccer games, although you should continue to workout with the squad. Please report to Ms. Mitchell at your convenience Saturday morning,” Mr. Garrison ordered.

“OK,” Cindy said as she stood up to leave. She didn't move. Finally Mr. Garrison spoke to her again.

“Do you have something more you want to say, Cindy?”

 Cindy took a deep breath. “Thanks for giving me the whole scoop and for not hearing what I said.”

“No one here at Concordance wants you to fail. If you don't do well we think that part of it was our fault. We've been on your side all the time. I hope you're on your side too,” Mr. Garrison told her quietly.

Cindy nodded, her throat constricted. She was unable to say anything more as she left closing the door slowly behind her.

Her roommates did not know that she would be restricted because the demerits report had not been posted. When they were all together at five thirty following their various practices Cindy alerted them.

“I screwed up again. I failed my History exam. I'm on restriction again – the small one. And I have to get my head shaved I think, and I don't see how I can pass History. I'd have to get a ninety five on everything from now on even to get a D,” Cindy lamented, tears welling up for the first time since she had been at Concordance.

“What happens if you fail? Can't you take it over?” Luanne asked.

“Yeah. Next summer, but I'm going to be on restriction forever. I won't be able to play in a game until April,” Cindy said despairingly.

There was silence for a few moments while no one could think of anything to say.

Finally Karen broke the silence. “You've got a lot going for you Cindy. I think you can get through it and be OK.”

“It's bad, but it's not the end of the world Cindy,” Luanne added.

“You're still our roommate and we still believe in you Cindy,” Jolene said as she stepped forward and put her arms around Cindy who had been unable to hold back her tears.

“I, uh...uh....uh....I can't leave here. I have to stay,” Cindy said through her tears.

“What'd you mean Cindy,” Luanne asked perplexed.

“I'd be put in Juvenile Detention. I got busted for shoplifting,” Cindy confessed.

“Oh man. That's rough. How long,” Karen asked. “I spent a week in detention. It's no fun.”

“A year,” Cindy answered.

“Whoa. That's heavy.” Jolene said.

“Come on Cindy. It's OK here. Even if you are restricted it's a lot better than being in JD,” Luanne spoke up.

“I know. It's just that my folks didn't tell me how bad things were. I don't know why they wanted to keep it a secret,” Cindy said.

“Parents are funny like that sometimes. You know what you have to do and I know you can handle it. Let's go get some dinner,” Karen said.

As they walked toward the dinning hall Jolene spoke to her again. “You have to go to the Groomery again don't you?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow,” Cindy answered.

“I'm going with you. What time?”

“I always go at nine fifteen,” Cindy answered. “You don't have to go with me.”

“I want to. Besides I need to get mine done. You're going to Barrett-Meason for the social aren't you?”.

“I don't know Jolene. I'm not sure I can deal with going there with a shaved head. That's different from a buzz cut,” Cindy answered.

“You think I shouldn't go because I have a shaved head?” Jolene queried her.

“I didn't mean that Jolene. You look terrific with your head shaved. It's just..... I don't know, different.” Cindy realized that she gotten herself trapped and didn't know how to extricate herself.

“Hum. You have a nice head Cindy. I'll bet you'll look good too. Just try to act confident and pretty soon you'll actually feel confident. That's how it worked for me.”

“You said you had a cousin with a shaved head, so you're used to the idea. I don't know anyone with a shaved head.”

“You mean I don't count?”

Cindy turned and pounded the wall with her fist. “I'm sorry Jolene. I'm really stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“Not really. It's just that I'm black and you're white and it's hard to ignore that sometimes even if it's not important.”

“You're my best friend. I don't even think of you as being black or having a shaved head. To me it looks so perfectly normal I forget that it's shaved. You really think I won't look awful with my head shaved?”

“Just wear your best looking outfit and some big earrings. It's not going to be completely shaved anyway. Your hair is almost as dark as mine, so it'll be noticeable definitely. It'll just be very short. Didn't you promise Gene that you would be at the next social. You aren't going to stand him up are you?”

“He'll think I'm an idiot or a freak. Well, he will won't he?”

“Have you told him yet?”

Cindy shook her head “no.”

“For goodness sakes, Cindy. E-mail him and tell him,” Jolene said a little exasperated.

“I can't e-mail him! What'll I say?”

“Just tell him you failed a mid-term. He knows all about the Concordance system.”

“I guess so. Maybe I'll do it after dinner. He probably won't answer. We'd better go on in. They're probably holding places for us.”

“Of course he'll answer. If he doesn't, that'll tell you something.”

Returning to their room with Jolene and Karen, Cindy sat down at their shared computer and tried to write to Gene. After several starts and deletions she finally sat back in frustration.

“Just do it Cindy. It's not the end of the world. Maybe you'll be surprised,” Jolene urged her.

After several more abortive beginnings, she finally blurted out her situation.

            Hi Gene,

                        I have to tell you some stuff. I hate my history class and that's what caused me to    have to get buzzed. I did terrible on the mid-term. I have to get shaved tomorrow. I                   don't think I can even pass it now. I'll probably have to make it up next Summer. Maybe    I shouldn't come on Sunday.

            Cindy

Cindy sat at her desk trying despite her agitation to read an assignment in English while waiting anxiously for a response from Gene. Fifteen minutes later there was a little chime as the computer announced an incoming email.

Karen, who was looking up something on Wikipedia, responded quickly.

“It's for you Cindy. Let me start this printing and you can have it.”

Cindy quickly keyed in her e-mail password and opened her in box. The last item on her list was

from Gene. She opened it.

Hey Cindy,

            You promised that you wouldn't stand me up. Who cares if you blew your history class. Actually I do care. I know you'll make it up OK even if you do have to do summer school. I don't care how much hair you have. You'll look pretty cool with a shaved head like your roomie. Just come. Please.

Gene

Cindy read it several times before she said anything.

“He thinks I'll look cool with my head shaved like yours, Jolene.”

“What'd I tell you! He a cool guy. So you're going right?”

“I guess so. I'm going to feel pretty weird.”

____________

Cindy woke up Saturday morning to the soft chime from the speaker above the door announcing that it was eight O'clock. She hear the sound of the shower and realized that Jolene was already up. She quickly got out of her bunk and headed to the shower, the groans and moans of Karen and Luanne helping to spur her on.

Jolene emerged from her shower as Cindy slipped out of her panties and stepped over the low threshold into the other shower.

“Let's get something to eat before we go to the Groomery,” Jolene suggested.

“OK, I was thinking the same thing”.

Cindy finished her shower hurriedly, dried herself and put on her school uniform. Strictly speaking she didn't have to wear it on Saturday and Sunday, but for some reason she didn't quite comprehend she decided to wear it today. She chose the dark blue slacks and white shirt. She retrieved her name tag from the drawer where she put it every night and pinned it to her shirt. She had not gotten the sew on name patches.

“I'm ready Jolene,” Cindy said as she finished applying her lipstick.

A quick breakfast in the dinning hall and they were on their way to the Groomery. They arrived only a few minutes after nine to be greeted by Ms. Hanson and Ms. Mitchell who was just finishing a trim on Janet's jaw line length blond bob.

“Do you mind if I take care of you Cindy,” Ms. Hanson said.

The question startled Cindy. Ms. Hanson's tone of voice seemed different – almost gentle, even comforting. 

Cindy looked at her. After a moment she realized that Ms. Hanson had been expecting her and was waiting patiently. The brusque manner that characterized Cindy's previous encounters with her had been replaced by something much different – a tranquil easiness that Cindy found calming.

“OK. I have to get it shaved don't I,” Cindy asked as she sat in the barber chair.

“That's right Cindy. You didn't do so well in your history class, but I understand that you'll be making progress in the future,” Ms. Hanson responded.

“I don't think I'm going to be able to pass history. I'll have to take it over,” Cindy said.

“I know. I talked to Ms. Bramwell. You can get through this Cindy. You've got some good friends here, and everyone wants you to succeed. You'll get all the help you need,” Ms. Hanson encouraged her.

While this conversation was taking place Ms. Hanson had been slowly clippering Cindy's head. She was using a clipper with a number zero blade. It would leave Cindy with only a sixteenth of an inch of hair, enough to be quite noticeable and would almost disguise the paleness of her scalp. She had gone over Cindy's head once and was now making sure that it was even. She would use her finishing clipper along the hairline.

Meanwhile Jolene was having her head clippered by Ms. Mitchell's finishing clipper. She had nearly completed her second run when Jolene came to a sudden decision.

“Ms. Mitchell, can you give me a smooth shave today. I think I would like to try it to see how it looks and feels,” Jolene said impulsively.

“I can certainly do that if you're sure,” Ms Mitchell told her. “It will take a little extra time. Do you have a practice soon?”

“Not until ten. Will that give you enough time?” Jolene asked.

“It'll take about thirty minutes. You should be done by quarter till – plenty of time to get to the gym and change,” Ms. Mitchell assured her.

“OK. Please do it,” Jolene told her.

Cindy's clipper shave was nearly done when Jolene made her request. “You're really going to get it shaved?”

“Yep. I am. Maybe James will be satisfied this time,” Jolene laughed as Ms. Mitchell squirted shaving cream from a can onto her head and began to spread it around with her fingers and then with her hand, rubbing it in thoroughly. Ms. Mitchell as well as Ms. Hanson were well equipped for shaving heads. They didn't do it often, but once or twice a year a student failed a class and suffered the ultimate consequence. 

“You're all done Cindy,” Ms. Hanson said.

Cindy didn't move as several thoughts went through her head. No matter how hard she worked she probably wouldn't pass history, so she was going to have to have her head shaved smooth sooner or later. Maybe Gene would be OK with it. Maybe she should just get it done and be over with it.

“Cindy, are you OK?” Ms Hanson said. “You're all done.”

“Ms. Hanson,” Cindy looked at her.

“Yes?” Ms. Hanson said questioningly.

“Can you do me with that little shaver the way Ms. Mitchell does Jolene?” Cindy asked.

“You want it really close like that?” Ms. Hanson asked surprised.

“Yes. I might as well get it done now,” Cindy said. “I need to work as hard as Jolene.”

“Hum. I think you mean that. Yes. I can make it very close for you,” Ms Hanson said as she wrapped Cindy in the cape that she had just removed and shaken out.

Jolene who was now having the last vestiges of her hair removed by Ms. Mitchell using a safety razor, had registered the conversation between Cindy and Ms. Hanson.

“That's very cool Cindy. You're going to look good. I'm going to make sure you work really hard from now on,” Jolene said.

Cindy emotions were in a strange state of flux. Somewhere in the depths of her psyche a voice was telling her that she should be mad as hell at having to have her head shaved. Cindy considered the idea then discarded it. The voice faded away. There was a large measure of rebellion that remained, a true part of her character. There was the realization that her rebellion had nearly been her undoing and the sobering realization of how close she had come to losing almost everything.  There was still residual anger at everybody including Judge Zorn, her parents and the people at Concordance. There was the odd feeling of anticipation at how Gene would react. And there was the unexpectedly pleasant feeling of the small clipper on her head as it rendered her essentially bald. 

In a strange way that had become part of her rebellion. Having accepted her punishment – having her head clippered to a sixteenth of an inch – she found another part of her urging defiance. Not her usual defiance, but defiance of the idea that she would be labeled a loser. She would defy conventions and be as bald as possible. She would flaunt it and she would prove that she could succeed. It would be her badge of determination. But under it all was the little girl who was vulnerable and who had felt alone, but was defiant and determined to save herself. 

The little clipper was on its second traversal of her head. Ms. Hanson pressed gently as she pushed up the sides and back and then from front to back on the top and sides of Cindy's head. At the crown she went from left to right then right to left to clean up the circular pattern that was present there.

Cindy had visibly relaxed during this process, a fact that Ms. Hanson had noted, not for the first time, on girls who had received this treatment. She refrained from commenting.

“Well, Cindy, as soon as I clean you up you'll be done,” Ms. Hanson said quietly as she used a blow dryer to remove hairs from Cindy's head and neck and the cape that surrounded her. She followed that with a damp towel which she used to clean up around her face and her neck.

“Now you're done,” Ms. Hanson said as she removed the cape.

“Thanks, Ms. Hanson,” Cindy said as she rubbed her hand on her now bristly head. She sat down to watch Ms. Mitchell finish Jolene's shave. She wanted to say something to Jolene, but decided that now was not the time. She like the way Jolene looked with her smooth bald head and was eager to look more closely at herself and savor the feeling that she experienced when she had rubbed the very slight stubble that she could feel on her own head.

Jolene's shave was nearly done. Ms. Mitchell ran her fingers over Jolene's head carefully checking to make sure that there were no missed spots. When found one she misted it with water and shaved it again. Finally satisfied she used a damp towel to wipe off the last vestiges of shave cream, then applied a little moisturizer.

“I'm putting on a little moisturized Jolene. Shaving can make it dry otherwise. It's nice and smooth – about as good as anyone could get it. I hope your boyfriend appreciates it,” Ms. Mitchell said with a little laugh.

“Thank you Ms. Mitchell. I'm sure he will. We better hurry Cindy,” Jolene said as she got out of the chair.

“Let's go,” Cindy said as she stood up and put on the burgundy sweater and flung the scarf that she had work for their walks on this crisp fall morning. Jolene grabbed her light jacket and they   rushed out the door.

“You look great Jolene. It's so smooth and soft. Mine feels like sandpaper.” Cindy said as she reached up and touched Jolene's head with her fingers.

Jolene laughed. “It won't last very long. By tomorrow it will be bristly again. You look good too Cindy. You do have a nice shaped head. Once you get used to it I'll bet you'll start to like it, but you need to get a little color. It looks sort of gray when you see it from a few feet away. I think I know how to fix that,” Jolene told her.

“I kind of like it already. How can I get some color?” Cindy asked.

“Dora had some of that stuff you put on in the summer to make you look like you have a tan. I'll bet she still has some. You can use that,” Jolene told her as they entered the gym and headed for their lockers.

“That's a good idea Jolene. I'll ask her when I get back from practice,” Cindy responded.

At four thirty the four girls were together for the first time that day.

“Wow Cindy, you got it shaved like Jolene. Why'd you do that? You didn't have to did you?” Karen asked a bit shocked.

“I just had this crazy idea that I might as well do it now since I'll have to have it done later anyway.” Cindy answered.

“But what if you pass history after all,” Luanne added.

“ I was a little mad and I wanted to do something myself. I like the way Jolene looked and she said I'd look OK. I'm going to try, but I'm pretty sure I can't pass history. So I asked Ms. Hanson to shave it off like Jolene,” Cindy answered.   “Anyway I know what I have to do and this'll remind me.”

“It looks neat Cindy. You do look good. I'd be afraid to do that, but I like how you look. I wonder how I would look with my head shaved?” Karen asked.

“It's easy enough to find out. Just go get it shaved. They'll probably do it for you,” Cindy joked.

“I don't have the nerve to do that. Maybe I'll have to fail a class so I can see how I would look,” Karen said in jest.

“I think bald girls do look good. And you would look good Karen,” Jolene interjected.

“I don't know about that, but your head's awesome. It's so smooth and soft. How long will it stay like that?” Karen asked.

“Not very long. You can feel a little something already,” Jolene responded.

“You've always looked good Jolene. It's even better now. And you're really brave to have it shaved like that Cindy, even if you do have to get it shaved later. What about the holidays. You'll be going home won't you,” Luanne asked.

“Oh my God! I forgot all about that,” Cindy said experiencing a moment of shock.

“I think I'm going to get one of those little electric shavers and just shave it every other day. I think I can do it in ten minutes in the morning,” Jolene said.

“Do your folks know you're shaved? What did your folks say about it,” Karen asked.

“My Dad was a little shocked. He's kind of traditional and thinks women should have long straight hair which is pretty silly for girls with hair like mine. Mom was OK with it. She know a lot about her family. She said that in the part of Africa where her Grandmother came from all the women and girls keep their heads shaved. If it weren't for Dad I think she just might shave hers now,” Jolene explained.

“I'm not going home over the Thanksgiving weekend. I guess I don't have much choice about Christmas. I wonder if I could get one of those little clippers like the ones they use at the Groomery,” Cindy asked.

“I think those are special. They're probably expensive,” Luanne suggested.

“Well, I'm going to get something. I'm not going to let it grow for two weeks. My Mom has a shaver that she uses on her legs. Is that what you're thinking of Jolene?” Cindy asked.

“Yeah, that's it, but if you use one you'll be completely bald,” Jolene said.

“It can't be much different that it is now,” Cindy said. “And anyway I like the way your head feels. I could do without these little bristles,” Cindy said as she rubbed her head.

“It looks a lot better now that you've put on some of that tanning stuff. It's kind of shiny. I like it,” Jolene said.

“It worked pretty good. You like it shiny?” Cindy said.

“Yeah – makes it look good,” Jolene said.

“Come on guys, let's get something to eat. You can figure it out later,” Karen interrupted the conversation.

Taking Jolene's suggestion, Cindy tried to make herself as confident looking as possible. She put on her fanciest earrings and lipstick, changed to a skirt and replaced her sneakers with the dress shoes and nude anklets that they wore on special occasions. Looking at herself in the mirror she began to see a different person. She didn't quite know that person yet, but she thought she might like her when she knew her better.

This time when they walked toward the dinning hall she walked ahead with Jolene. They formed a striking duo - the dark complexioned Jolene and the pale Cindy, both essentially bald, although Cindy had a visible five O'clock shadow. She received a few jibes, but she ignored all but one.

“What a loser. You make the skin heads look like winners,” Madeline told her.

“You're right Madeline. I messed up, but things can change. Try me again next June,” Cindy told her as she continued to walk with her head held high, trying to maintain the nonchalant and confident appearance that she did not feel, but was determined to achieve.

After they had walked a little farther Jolene spoke to her.

“That was great Cindy. You seen different. What happened?”

“I don't know Jolene. I feel like I'm two people. I was pretty shook up yesterday, but I feel different today. I surprised myself,” Cindy said.

The rest of the evening was uneventful although there was talk about the Sunday Social, especially about which guys were the cutest and which were the coolest. Cindy felt some apprehension about how Gene was going to respond to her clipper shaved head, but she didn't express her concern.

Cindy journey had continued, but now she knew that the path she had been on was one that could have had extremely unpleasant consequences. Her rebelliousness remained, but it had been redirected onto a different path. She didn't know where it might lead.

---

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