For as long as I can remember, I've had my hair very long
People often wonder how I take care of it
How hard it is to maintain
But I've had it for long enough that I've gotten used to it
Dealing with it is second nature by now
That American transfer student seems fascinated by it, though
I admit, it gives me a certain amount of pride
One day in gym class, the conversation turns to my hair
He asks some questions about it
"So, what's your routine with this?"
"What shampoo and conditioner do you use?"
"Is it hard to work out with that?"
I answer as best I can
Nothing uncomfortable so far
"Does it ever get awkward to sleep with it?"
...
...Well, SOMETHING just got awkward
I blush and hide my face
He at least has the decency to look embarrassed after a couple seconds
"Yeah, I could've phrased that better."
I excuse myself to the locker room to cool off
Well... I suppose it's nice that he likes my hair
I untie it and start running my fingers through it
People say a woman's hair is her pride and joy
I don't know if it's mine, but I appreciate how he thinks it's beautiful
Out of the corner of my eye, I see two of my friends came in after me
Not sure if they followed me in or it's just coincidence
They start whispering conspiratorially
They talk for a little while, quietly, without letting me see their mouths
Then they shake hands
Did they just make some kind of deal?
And why do I get the feeling it has something to do with me?
Oh well, that's probably not important right now
Time to head back out