The Spectrum Force Volume Four - Heather Ray (phonics reading books TXT) 📗

Monday, February 14th

Her throat was dry as she sat down at her desk. Her brow furrowed, she stared at her reflection in the small mirror, and tugged the towel that wrapped her damp hair.

She stared at herself for a solid minute, noticing even the tiniest blemish or imperfection. Her hair hung limply around her face, dripping onto the soft cotton of her bathrobe.

She had three hours before the "big date," but the preparation had begun forty-eight ago. On Saturday, she, Tamara, and Rachel spent hours at the mall, browsing through dress boutiques, stuffy department stores, trendy teen-wear, and specialty shops. She had absolutely no idea where she could ever find a decent dress for a special occasion, but thankfully, Tamara had an eagle eye for bargains. After sorting through hundreds of dresses expensive enough to make them gasp, Tamara had decided on exactly the type of outfit Jocelyn would look marvelous in. Then, the trio happily headed to the more reasonable stores in the mall, and struck gold at Loehmann's.

Afterwards, the more experienced girls ushered their initiate to CVS for the other essentials... like apricot face scrub, volumizing shampoo and conditioner, makeup in all the season's hottest berry shades, and more vials of spritzes and creams than Jocelyn could imagine using.

Sunday, after the early morning practice with the rest of the team, had been a lazy day. Jocelyn took advantage of the quiet to get some schoolwork done, knowing that she'd be so distracted on Monday, she'd barely pay attention in class.

Monday rolled around, and so did the contents of Jocelyn's stomach. Classes flew by, and all too soon, it was time to begin the ritual of preparation.

Tamara's excited antics offered little encouragement. Rachel's reserved grin wasn't amusing. The hot shower was hardly relaxing. And as she stared at the cosmetics and hair-care supplies intended to transform her from ordinary to alluring, she felt that sinking feeling of helplessness.

Of course, asking for help was out of the question. Tamara was now completely focused on her mysterious date with Keith, critically selecting the final adornments for her first "cold weather" date.

With a sigh of resignation, Jocelyn lifted her blow dryer, and set out to arrange her hair the only way she knew how, in simple strands about her face. Perhaps she could spice it up with a barrette...?

"Joce? Jocelyn!"

The voice was drowned out by the steady burr of the dryer, but Jocelyn did notice Rachel's entrance through the reflection in the mirror. She mustered a smile for her roommate. "Hey, Ray."

She turned around, noticing that Rachel had come armed with a set of hot rollers. "What are you doing?"

Rachel grinned wryly. "I'm fixing your hair, of course. I wasn't expecting you to figure out what all those mousses and pomades are for."

Jocelyn raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You

want to style my hair?"

"Well, somebody has to fix you up. Now let's get to work."

Somehow, Jocelyn couldn't imagine that the studious, serious senior had even a passing interest in something as frivolous as hair-care. But she settled down in her desk chair, watching as Rachel plugged the rollers in one outlet, and selected a hair product.

"Okay, the first thing we do is apply the mousse, to pump up your hair," she narrated, filling her palm with a generous amount of white foam. "It also holds the style, so your hair won't fall flat."

She saturated Jocelyn's fine, shoulder-length hair with the foam, combing through the hair to distribute the mousse neatly.

Rachel then set the hair dryer to maximum heat, starting from the nape of the neck and aiming the gushing air against the hair growth. Once the hair was completely dry, she added a touch of conditioner, and began sectioning.

Jocelyn watched her friend's labor, intrigued by the concentration in Rachel's face. She combed through Jocelyn's hair with surprising skill, drawing two parts from forehead to nape and slipping over a dozen large rollers into place.

After twenty minutes of labor, Jocelyn's hair had been treated, dried, conditioned, and rolled. She released a soft, surprised laugh as Rachel tapped each roller, making sure it was securely in place.

"It'll take about fifteen minutes for the rollers to cool," Rachel informed her, unplugging the heating tray, "Then we just shake out the curls for a tousled look, and mist with hair spray for staying power. Trust me, you'll look terrific."

Rachel then noticed Jocelyn's grin through the mirror. "What's so funny?"

"Where did you learn this?" Jocelyn wondered, "You don't really seem the type to study Cosmo magazine."

"My mother's been a stylist for almost thirty years. She's worked at a salon, has done hair and makeup for some catalogue models, and now mostly works on bridal parties. Eventually, even I picked up a few pointers."

She then picked up the hair dryer, and began winding the chord. "The way I see it, if the law thing doesn't work out, I have a backup plan."

The absolute absurdity of the mental image made both girls fall into giggles, until a solid knock at the door silenced them both. A heartbeat later, the bedroom door swung open. "Can you guys get that?" Tammy requested, "It's Keith."

Jocelyn turned to her other roommate. "Why? You're already dressed."

Rachel grinned ruefully. "One of Tammy's rules: even if she's ready to go, a lady will make her date wait at least five minutes."

Jocelyn rolled her eyes. "Girls like you give the rest of us a bad name!"

Tamara pouted. "Hey! I'm still deciding on my lip-gloss! Now it's between Rum Raisin or Sugar Plum."

"You know, I think it's been scientifically proven that women can discern finer differences in color than men can," Jocelyn commented. "Either one will be 'purple' to Keith."

Tamara glared at her.

Rachel smothered her laughter as she approached the door. "Joce, don't bother trying to see the logic in this. It's about Tammy wanting to look her best, whether or not Keith really notices. So sit tight and don't touch the rollers; I'll be back in five minutes." She then turned to Tamara. "Definitely go with the plum; it's richer than the raisin, and a touch lighter."

Tamara smiled before hurrying back to the bathroom. "Thanks, Ray."

With an indulgent grin, Rachel closed Jocelyn's door and made her way to the front. She pulled open the door, to Keith's easy-going grin.

"Hey, Ray," he greeted, walking into the apartment, "How're you doing?"

Rachel's gaze lingered on the large gift bag he settled on the countertop. "Fine. I see you're in a good mood."

Her curiosity piqued when she noticed what he was wearing: a cotton turtleneck, lambs' wool blazer, and heavy slacks. "Where are you going? A meat-packing factory?"

His trademark, secretive smirk appeared. "Tam will tell you all about it tomorrow," he told her, his hand disappearing into the bag. He pulled out a palm-sized box of assorted chocolates, neatly wrapped in red ribbon. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Rachel chuckled as she accepted the token. "You are such

a charmer," she drawled.

"I have a reputation to re-establish, after that birthday blunder." He retrieved one more box from the bag. "Where's Jocie?"

"Indisposed; but I'll make sure she gets this."

Keith then glanced at his watch, and rubbed his palms together. Rachel noticed his impatience. "It's only three-thirty. You've got plenty of time."

"Not really... with the time zone shift, we're gonna lose three hours."

It took Rachel a few moments before she realized what he'd said. "Did you just say... time zone??"

At that moment, Tamara emerged from her bedroom, wearing a loose winter-white sweater and fitted leather skirt. Her hair was tied in an elegant French braid, leaving curling tendrils to frame both sides of her face. Wide silver hoops dangled from her ears, matching the dainty chain that adorned her neck.

Keith's smile widened at her appearance. "Wow..."

Rachel aptly sensed that was her cue. Grinning at the couple, she retreated to Jocelyn's room.

Tamara bit back her excitement, thoroughly pleased by Keith's reaction. "So, what's the big surprise?" she urged, "I don't think restaurants are even seating dinner guests this early!"

He winked, taking the gift bag from the counter and bringing it to Tamara. "First things first..."

Tamara glanced down into the bag, her eyes widening with amused surprise. "Keith, he's adorable," she murmured, lifting out the honey brown teddy bear. Her eyebrow quirked at the bear's unusual accoutrements: an "I Love NY" baseball cap, a cotton T-shirt with the Statue of Liberty standing proudly on the front, a hot dog in one paw, and a Yankees pennant waving in the other.

She giggled as she planted a soft kiss on her boyfriend's lips. "This is definitely unusual, coming from you," she admitted.

Then, he took her hand. "It gets better. Ready to go?"

Nodding with gleeful anticipation, Tamara settled the present on her bed, and then took Keith's hand. He led her outside the apartment, and then down the hall to the elevator.

Tamara frowned in puzzlement as Keith pushed the "up" arrow.

"Did you forget something at your place?" she wondered.

He only grinned as the elevator door opened. Then, letting her pass before him, he stepped inside and pressed the "Roof Court" button.

Tamara blinked, refusing to believe her eyes. Why would Keith take her to the building's basketball court?

The pair stood in silence as the elevator crept passed the remaining floors. Tamara felt the sudden urge to scratch her head in confusion, but kept in mind such a gesture could ruin her intricate hairdo.

Once the elevator reached the roof, Keith took her hand again, and led her into the open air. The sun still hung near the horizon, yet there was no one playing basketball on the concrete court ringed with a link fence over ten feet high.

Tamara half-expected to see a table for two set up, with candles and even a violinist to serenade a quiet, romantic dinner. Yet the court was completely empty, baffling her further.

Then, Keith took a step away. "Spectrum Sync!"

Tamara's jaw swung open as her boyfriend transformed. "Keith... what's going on?"

"Don't worry, I cleared it with Spectra the other day," he told her, gently lifting her into his arms. "When you can fly up to 186,000 miles a second, the whole world's your oyster."

Tamara couldn't resist a giggle as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "You do realize that I can fly on my own, right?"

She could see the outline of his smile through his mask. "Well yeah... but it's a surprise!"

And with that, a warm red aura wrapped them both in a protective cocoon, and he took off into the air.

Tamara released an excited squeal as the world shrank in her view. Though they were traveling safely below the speed of sound, the sensation of flight was more extraordinary than when she flew under her own power at greater speeds.