Page 62 of The Grump I Loathe

“What do you mean?”

“Different colors can make you feel different things,” I explained. “Blue always makes me feel bold. Pink is for fun.”

“Don’t they say blonds have more fun?” Connor said, his lips twisting as he took another bite of his breakfast.

“I wouldn’t know,” I said. “I’m more of a funky color girl.”

He laughed. “Well,Ican confirm. Briefly. For a short stint one summer.”

I pointed my fork at him. “A blond Connor Lockhart? Explain.”

“You know,” he said lightly, “there might be some high school photos floating around where I have frosted tips.”

“Well, well, well,” I said, barely containing my grin. “I am learning so much today.”

“What pictures?” Grace demanded, frowning at the information. “I haven’t seen them.”

“That’s because they’ve been hidden away.” Connor chuckled, running a hand over his face as he was caught by the memory. “I looked horrible.”

“Doubt that’s possible,” I muttered.

“I’m serious. My brothers and I got it in our heads that it would be the cool thing to do, but we didn’t really have money to get it done professionally. Finn heard you could use lemon juice and sunlight to lighten your hair. We spent a week rubbing lemons on our heads and throwing the ball around the yard.”

Grace and I laughed. I caught her eye. “Okay, so your new mission is tracking down these pictures.”

“I’m totally asking Grandma.”

“It gets worse,” Connor cut in. “Because the thing they don’t tell you is how citric acid damages the hair, making it brittle.”

“Oh no,” I said, already envisioning where this story was going—straight to the clippers. “You didn’t?”

Connor nodded.

I winced.

“All three of us had to buzz our heads to fix it,” he said, still chuckling at the memory. “Liam was devastated. He’d been trying to get the attention of this girl all year, and he really believed the frosted tips would sell it.”

I resisted the urge to laugh. “Poor Liam.”

“He refused to come out of his room for an entire weekend. Finn walked around with the digital camera, making sure to document the entire experience.”

“I’m really going to need to see these photos.”

Connor snorted as he shook his head. “With any luck, Liam deleted them all.”

I turned to Grace. “And this is what we call a cautionary tale. Just promise not to resort to lemons.”

She crossed her heart.

“All right,” Connor said as Grace finished up her last pancake. “You have art class. Why don’t you load your plate in the dishwasher and go get your things before you get Eddie on a retainer?”

I snorted.

Grace nodded. “Okay. See you, Eddie. Thanks for hanging for breakfast.”

“Thanks for being a great sous chef. Have fun at art class.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Connor said, giving me a soft smile as Grace took off up the stairs.