Envy

dye that promised to “change your color-and your life-in three easy steps.” It was time for Miranda to become a bottle blonde.

“You said you wanted a change, right?” Harper asked, tossing the box into their shopping basket, despite Miranda’s halfhearted protests.

They stumbled back to Harper’s house with the goods-her parents were off in Ludlow for the weekend, visiting her great-uncle in his nursing home, a trip that Harper had easily resisted being guilted into. Great Uncle Horace had no idea who she was and last time had insisted on referring to her as Fanny, apparently the name of a British nurse who’d been “kind” to him during the war.

Harper’s parents didn’t mind her staying home alone, as long as she had “that responsible Miranda” around to keep an eye on things. If they only knew.

One very messy and wet shampoo later, Miranda’s hair was thoroughly coated with dye, and the two of them had nothing left to do but wait for it to dry. They fidgeted impatiently, leafing through magazines and flipping through the TV channels-Friday night was pretty much a home entertainment dead zone.

Miranda refused to look in a mirror until it was perfectly dry-she said she wanted to wait to get the full effect. And, as Harper watched with horror as Miranda’s hair dried and the final color emerged, she concluded that postponing the inevitable could only be a good thing. But finally they could wait no longer.

“Okay, I can’t stand it anymore,” Miranda said. “How does it look?”

“Uh… it’s different,” Harper hedged. “It’s definitely different.”

“Well I know that-but how does it look? Oh, forget it. I need to see for myself”

She bounded up, but Harper leaped ahead of her and jumped in front of the mirror.

“Before you look, I just want to remind you of what you said before, how I’m such a good friend to you.”

“Of course you are, Harper-this was your idea, wasn’t it? I’m not going to forget that.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Harper murmured. But she stepped aside.

Miranda’s scream would have woken up Harper’s parents, had they been home-as it was, Harper suspected it might still have woken them up a hundred miles away in Ludlow. It might even have woken up Great-uncle Horace- and he was deaf.

“Harper-what have you done to me?” Miranda cried, lunging toward her. Harper jumped away, searching for some large piece of furniture she could put between herself and the newly psychotic Miranda.

“Don’t blame me,” she protested. “I followed the directions. I think.” She ducked unsuccessfully as Miranda threw a pillow at her head.

“Look what you’ve done to me!” Miranda yelled. She slumped down on the bed and burst into-well, Harper couldn’t tell whether it was sobs or hysterical laughter.

“Are you… okay?” Harper asked tentatively, sitting down beside her.

“Okay?” Miranda asked, tears of laughter streaming down her face. “How could I be okay? I look like Kermit the Frog!”

Sad, but true.

Miranda’s rust-colored hair had been changed in three easy steps, all right-her head was now topped with a frizzy mass of bright green tendrils, the color of celery. Or of everyone’s favorite Muppet.

It was horrifying. Humiliating. And hilarious.

Unable to control herself any longer, Harper burst into giggles.

Miranda fell backward onto the bed, gasping for breath. “It’s not funny,” she complained.

“I know,” Harper said, trying to force a solemn and sober look.

“Except that it is,” Miranda admitted, breaking into laughter once more.

“I know,” Harper agreed, laughing again herself. She felt a rush of relief that Miranda didn’t want to kill her-but she worried about what would happen in the morning, when the alcoholic glee had washed out of her system and, sober and hungover, she still looked like a Muppet. Things might not seem so jolly in the light of day.

After all, it’s not easy being green.

(Just ask Kermit.)

It was Friday night, date night, and things were going to be different. Beth was determined. Adam had been acting weird all week-though she wasn’t even sure what would classify as “weird” these days. Stand-offish? Short- tempered? Irritable? How was that any different, really, from the way things were the rest of the time? When was the last time they’d been together-and talked-without it turning into a fight? It used to be so easy to talk to Adam, and now it was just easier not to.

But tonight really would be different. Tonight would be an actual date. Not a half-rushed hookup in her bedroom before her parents got home, not a stolen few minutes between classes or a stale slice of pizza after work. Tonight it was just the two of them, all night long. And it would be fun, and easy, no matter how hard she had to work at it.

She’d suckered Adam into taking her to the Frontier Festival, an annual carnival that passed through town every October, ostensibly to celebrate the harvest (though Beth was unsure what kind of harvest a mining town, much less a defunct mining town, had to offer). Really it was just an excuse for cotton candy, funnel cake, 4-H livestock contests, and a rickety Ferris wheel. Beth had loved it as a child, and had always dreamed of walking through the booths and crowds of squealing children on the arm of a handsome boy. Now she finally had one.

It started out just as she’d hoped. Hand in hand, they traipsed through the colorful booths, mocking the lame Wild West theme, squealing in fear and delight as the carnival rides swung them through the air, gorging themselves on cotton candy and corn dogs. Adam even spent ten dollars trying to win her a prize-but the water gun target shoot, the whack-a-mole, even the basketball free throw game failed to cough up any booty. Finally Beth tried her hand at Skee-Ball, and in about five minutes had succeeded in winning Adam a stuffed pink elephant, which he accepted with a rueful but gracious grin. It was relaxing, carefree, fun, sweet-and it couldn’t last.

Adam spotted him first, but Beth was the one to call him over. That was before she noticed the buxom brunette on his arm. Kane waved eagerly and hurried over to say hello, his Kewpie doll following close on his heels. In a moment everyone was introduced.

Beth, meet Hilary, a brainless idiot with a twenty-three-inch waist and a six-inch hollow space in her head.

You can’t judge her before she even opens her mouth, Beth chided herself, appalled by her nasty knee-jerk reaction. She smiled at Hilary and, as sweetly as she could to make up for the evil thoughts swarming around her head, asked, “So, Hilary, do you go to Haven High too? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.”

Hilary giggled, and responded in a thin, airy voice. “Oh, no, I’m home schooled-my parents think public school teaches you to be immoral.”

Beth and Adam both shifted uncomfortably in silence. What, exactly, was one supposed to say to that?

No matter-Hilary wasn’t waiting for an answer. She draped an arm around Kane’s waist.

“Of course,” she giggled again, “now I’ve got Kane for that. Right, sweetie?” She slapped him gently on the ass and he jumped in surprise, flashing Beth and Adam a bemused and slightly abashed look. At least, Beth read it as abashed-but maybe she was wrong, since the next thing he did was pull Hilary toward him and give her a long, hard kiss. How embarrassed by her could he be?

After a long moment he released Hilary, who looked up at him, flushed and adoring.

“I’m teaching her everything I know about bad behavior,” Kane explained.

Hilary put on a fake pout and a grating baby voice. “And now I’m a bad, bad girl, aren’t I?”

“You sure are,” Kane agreed, pinching her ass.

“Ooh!” she squealed. “I’ll get you for that.” And she lunged toward him.

It was the obvious start of some kind of tickle slap fight that Beth was sure would soon end in another grope match-not something she needed to see.

“Come on, Adam,” she whispered, tugging at his shirt. “Let’s go.”

They waved hasty good-byes and began to back away from the squealing couple.

“Off to win your lady love a bigger prize?” Kane called out from amid the tickle storm. He gestured to the small stuffed elephant Beth was holding in her arms; Hilary was toting a stuffed pink panda about four times as large.

“Actually, I won this for him,” Beth pointed out.

“A true champion, eh?” Kane called jovially. Then his voice grew serious and he locked eyes with Beth, ignoring