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The movie wasn't even that good, they would insist later. In the theater, though, they were perfectly content to watch it, for their own respective reasons. John liked the music, Frances liked the aesthetic, Marty liked Cara Delevigne, Theo liked the jokes, Will liked the popcorn, and Georges liked the movie in general. And Phillip? He'd never admit it to anyone, but his favorite part was sitting next to Theo. He tried to keep his focus on the film, but his eyes would wander to her face, and he'd found himself captivated by the smirk on her face or the glimmer in her eyes. The whole thing went remarkably well until she turned to see him staring at her. Instead of bringing it up, however, she'd just smiled softly and turned back to the screen, apparently ignoring the blush he felt creeping up his cheeks.
Not a minute after they had left the theater, the teens immediately opened fire on the film. In between cries of "Jared Leto's kinda weird." and "There wasn't really a plot!", they discussed what they had liked. The conversation didn't last very long, however, and they soon fell into an awkward silence. Marty seemed to drink in the quiet before she broke it.
"So, on a scale from one to ten, how bored are y'all?" She leaned nonchalantly against the outer wall of the theater, her gum smacking loudly in her mouth with each word. Her question was answered anywhere between eights and fifteens. A smirk played onto her full lips as she looked from teen to teen with mischief in her gaze. However, she didn't say anything more. Frances twisted her own lips in impatience.
"What did you have in mind, Jefferson?" The use of Marty's last name was a reminder of the fact that no, a lot of them were just not friends. Phillip didn't actually know why, if he thought about it. He just supposed that Frances' father had given her the same advice that his had: Jefferson, Madison, and Burr are not to be trusted. And, more importantly, neither are their children. Marty seemed unpertubed, however, and simply smiled, sugar sweet.
"Well, I was just remembering a salon that dad takes me sometimes. It's just, I thought you guys might want to check it out." Her tone was light, but there was a smug undertone, as if taking her classmates to the salon was just that amusing. Phillip saw Frances roll her eyes. Marty continued, pretending not to notice. "It'd be my treat."
Phillip really wants to not come along because Godammit, he would not allow Martha Jefferson to rope him into another awkward hangout! However, Theodosia soon gave Marty a big smile and a "thank you", and so Phillip found himself walking with the group to an uptown salon.
It turned out to be just as hoity-toity as he thought it would be. Hairdressers in chic clothing shot the group of casually-dressed teenagers confused looks as they escorted their customers to their chairs. Marty went up to the front desk, flashing her ID and credit card and asking if anyone was available. In her absence, the other students sat down on the waiting couch and began to thumb through the fashion magazines, trying to absorb what exactly was "in" right now. Next to Phillip, John shifted uncomfortably. Phillip raised an eyebrow at him, and his restraint broke immediately.
"It's just that this is, like," John sputtered, obviously struggling to monitor any rude words. "It's just, like, an odd thing to do with friends?" He shrugged, resigned. Theo hummed and nodded, considering a reply.
"I feel like like a lot of people don't really... trust Marty," she said, enunciating her words carefully. "because they're not big fans of her father." Phillip, Will, Georges, and Frances nodded, taking sudden interest in the floor. Theo continued, "So for most of her life, he was her main source of friendship, so a lot of what she knows about it is what he's taught her. In the last year or two, though, she's sort of realized that he's the reason people don't trust her, so she kind of-" Theo grimaced and slashed her hand in front of her throat, trusting her friends to understand the gesture. Phillip opened his mouth to say something- he didn't quite know what. Sorry?I never knew? Before he could speak, however, Marty came crashing down on the couch beside Georges. She swiped up Teen Vogue and stated the case.
"So, since my dad is like, always here, we got some premium discounts." Nobody quite wanted to ask what she meant by that. Marty continued, flipping through her magazine, "Basically, y'all have got fifteen minutes to choose a cool new haircut." She studied their faces before adding, "They also do dye, makeup, nails, and waxing."
Frances took out her phone and studied her image in the front camera. Slender fingers swept aside rounded locks of glossy dark hair. She bit her lip and sighed quietly, almost to herself, "I do keep meaning to get rid of the bangs." Marty knit her eyebrows together and shook her head, scooching over on the couch until she was next to the other girl. Phillip watched curiously as she took Frances' cheeks in her hands and turned her to face her as she examined her face. When Marty was content, she pulled away, but Phillip didn't miss the soft blush creeping up where her hands had been on France's face.
"Personally, I think the bangs are cute. Maybe if you dye the hair- maybe a pastel?- it'll bring out your freckles a lot more." Frances simply nodded and seemed to think about it, and the group once more fell into silence. This time, however, the quiet was thoughtful. Phillip tugged at his curls. He couldn't imagine cutting it, much less dying it. In the end, he decided on a manicure. It's a bit of an embarrassing thing, for a teenage boy to announce he intended to get his nails done. Once he had, however, Georges squealed gleefully and said he'd be getting the same.
Ultimately, Phillip walked away from the salon chair with two coats of sleek, clear polish, cleanly cut and filed nails, and a satisfying experience. He sat down on the couch next to Georges, who beamed as he flashed his own electric-blue manicure. The next person back was Will, who looked just about the same until he pulled up his pant leg, revealing a well-waxed limb. Phillip stifled a giggle, supposing he deserved the way Will smacked him on the shoulder and scolded him that "Tons of male models are doing it now!". They were soon joined by Marty, who sported a slightly tamed version of her usual afro. She threw her arms around Phillip and Will, looking from boy to boy.
"Well? How're they treatin' you?" she asked, patting them on the backs as she pulled away. They responded with cheerful praise of the place, showing off their treatments and complimenting her own haircut. The merry conversation drew to a quick close as John collapsed on the sofa beside his... friends? Phillip wondered if that was the correct word to describe his relationship with the shy young man. He was knocked out of reverie when John's voice rang out, clear and enthusiastic.
"Check this out!" He turned his head away from the group to reveal that half of his silky black hair had been shorn to the root, and the rest slicked back. All the teens marveled at the fresh new style, shooting off compliments and feeling the peach fuzz. All except Marty, who was staring at the salon's entryway, where Frances Laurens stood with a head of freshly dyed, pastel pink hair. She walked to join her friends and twirled a few strands of the bobbed hairdo through her fingers. Everyone fell silent.
"Oh, it looks crappy, doesn't it? This was a mistake, I shouldn't have done this."
Marty leapt up from her seat. "It looks adorable! Y-you look adorable!" She stuttered a bit as she realized what she was saying. Frances blushed profoundly, a small smile forming on her lips. She stared back at Marty, not saying a word. Georges didn't have the same problem, however.
"Oh my god!" He shook Will on the shoulders, looking frantically from him to Frances. "She looks like the girl from that one musical!"
Frances pinched the bridge of her nose. "Did you just compare me to Frenchy from Grease?"
"Absolutely!"
"Listen here, Georges, you little-"
"What are you guys even talking about?" Theodosia stood now over the sofa, a previously unknown presence. Phillip glanced up at her and gasped softly. Her hair, usually made straight by sheer length and weight, was now swept up in curls atop her head in a pageboy cut. Staring up at her, Phillip couldn't help himself.
"You look beautiful." Even before the words left his mouth, he felt himself blushing. Flustered and embarrassed, he looked away. He felt Theo's soft hands creep onto his shoulders, followed by her chin. The heat on Phillip's cheeks was searing now, as she murmured her thanks directly into his ear, her lips barely brushing the lobe. He closed his eyes for a moment, drinking in the feeling that he couldn't hope to have again.
Frances shattered the mood with a sharp wolf whistle, and Phillip and Theo pulled back from each other as if they'd been shocked. Beside Frances, Marty was giving the two a shit-eating grin, obviously fancying them a coy couple. "So, if we're all done here, we should get going." She winked at the two of them and stood up, ready to pay.
Theo gave her a playful glare and sunk back into the couch cushion. "Alright, Marty. Just don't blame us for the bill, huh?"
Phillip snickered, amused at her exaggeration. At least, that's what he believed it to be, until he heard Marty's over-dramatic gasp from the other side of salon. The teens shared a laugh among themselves and got ready to go. On the walk home, Marty shoots them all dirty glances.
Phillip finds that, with Theo walking by his side, her hand occasionally brushing his, he can't be bothered to care.