Sharif, Medeia: Snip, Snip, Revenge
Snip, Snip Revenge
By Medeia Sharif
Contemporary Young Adult Romance ~ Evernight Teen
Approx. 64,000 words
Beautiful, confident Tabby Karim has plans for the winter: nab a role in her school’s dramatic production, make the new boy Michael hers, and keep bigoted Heather—with her relentless Ay-rab comments—at bay. When a teacher’s lie and her father’s hastiness rob her of her beautiful hair, her dreams are dashed. The fastest barber in Miami Beach has made her look practically bald.
With all her pretty hair gone, Tabby doesn’t believe she fits the feminine role she’s auditioning for. Michael is still interested in her, but he’s playing it cool. Heather has taken to bullying her online, which is easier to do with Tabby’s ugly haircut. Tabby spearheads Operation Revenge, which proves satisfying until all of her problems deepen. After messing up, she sets to make things right.
Find Snip, Snip Revenge here:
A security monitor enters our room. “Mr. Ortega, bring your class down to the gym,” she says.
The teacher holds the door open for us as we all head down a flight of stairs. Michael, Connie, Marissa, and Kiki surround me. In front of a gym, we have to stand in a single file line while one of the teacher’s aides smacks gum and calls us in one at a time. Connie is ahead of us in the line, so she goes first. She comes back out a minute later and tells the class, “Mrs. Fuller is doing inspections.”
“Why Mrs. Fuller?” I ask, still stinging from what happened Friday.
“Because she’s a health and P.E. teacher,” Mr. Ortega says. “She’s also a part-time nurse. The school nurse is doing the other half of the school in the library, but we’re assigned to Mrs. Fuller.”
Maybe she does have degrees in biology or health or nursing. She once mentioned she had a master’s degree in health science. But I want someone else to look at my scalp. Not her.
People enter one door and exit the other. “I can’t believe Mrs. Fuller touched me,” a boy says.
“That cougar,” another boy comments. “Did it turn you on?”
“No way, bro. You can have her.”
“Tabby,” Mr. Ortega calls.
My breath momentarily stops. But what do I have to worry about? I can take Mrs. Fuller on. The worst thing that can happen is she says something stupid and I’ll walk out on her.
Inside is another teacher’s aide, a thin woman who sits at a table with a clipboard. She asks me for my name and student ID number, goes through a roster of all the students in Mr. Ortega’s first period, and highlights my name. I look ahead of me. Mrs. Fuller is to the right. She stands next to the bleachers, flat against the wall. There’s a chair in front of her. “Sit!” she barks.
I wrinkle my nose and sit in front of her. She’s wearing gloves, as if the lice are going to jump out at her. Maybe she has hairy knuckles and she’s afraid the lice will make their home in them. She’s not ugly, but there’s something manly about her. Long ago, when she was a teen, she was a tennis hotshot. My friends and I searched her online and found out she was young once, still tall and manly, but sort of pretty. Now she’s the health teacher none of us wants, but we’re stuck with her.
In front of me is a desk with a swiveling mirror on top, so with her behind me I watch as she parts my hair several times. She picks up a large magnifying glass to peer closer. Her dirty blonde hair is in a ponytail, so there’s no chance of it falling in my own hair.
After she stops I ask, “Can I go now?”
“Yes, but you have to go through the back door.”
“You have lice.”
I’m a Kurdish-American author who was born in New York City, and I presently call Miami my home. I received my master’s degree in psychology from Florida Atlantic University. After becoming a voracious reader in high school and a relentless writer dabbling in many genres in college, I found my niche writing for young people. Today I’m a MG and YA writer published through various presses. In addition to being a writer, I’m a middle school English teacher. My memberships include Mensa, ALAN, and SCBWI.
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