Hair

My house used to be covered in my hair. A bunch of S-shaped curls dotting the living room that I slept in.

I didn’t know that this was gross, but I knew that my sister thought it was. My sister was in school and had all her hair. She was my only peer.

She picked a hair off the ground and held it at arm’s length. “Savannah.”

I grabbed a notebook and wrote, MOM.

Our mom had curly hair, too.

My sister looked at me.

We had been to Disney World last week. I had rolled myself out of every photo.

My sister let the hair drop.

“Can you turn the volume up?”

I did.

She joined me on the couch. High School Musical 2 was about to start.