Flattop High part 5 by Ben Aldy

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The days have been flying by since I became a "Plano Flattop." Well, almost... I’m still the only boy without a proper flattop at Plano High. The other guys have razzed me hard about my long hair (which is short), but Elizabeth likes me this way... and I am in love with her.

I went out for the football team and am now the kicker. I scored the winning field goal of our first game, and that has added significantly to my notoriety. We’re currently 4-0 headed into homecoming weekend.

Elizabeth and I have been going steady for a month, and tonight while sitting on her porch swing, she surprises me with a question.

"Josh, our cheerleading squad is currently working on the pep rally for homecoming, and I wanted to see if you would get involved."

"Sure. How can I help?"

"Well, the girls and I were talking, and we wondered if... you may be ready to get a flattop?"

"What?! No way! I thought you liked my haircut?"

She turned and looked me in the eye and ran her hand behind my ear. "I love your haircut. But this isn’t about me... or you. It’s about team spirit."

"I don’t know, Elizabeth. I’ve really made my Executive Contour into my identity. With a flattop, I’ll just be ordinary."

She raises her voice at me. "No, Josh, you’ll be a Plano Flattop! And you won’t be ordinary to me. Who knows? You might really like it. I might really like it!"

"So how is my showing up with a flattop going to get anybody excited? It’s not like I’ll stand out."

"Well, we were thinking you would get your flattop at the pep rally. We’ll invite your dad to cut it in front of everyone. I’ve actually already asked him, and he said he would, if you would. Will you?" (Dad seems to always be the first to know .)

I thought hard for a minute, about my hair, about Elizabeth, about the future.

"Elizabeth, this is a big commitment for me, so I’m going to ask for a big commitment from you. If I do this, will you promise to marry me, not now, not in high school, but one day?"

She grins and then gives me a quick kiss. "You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Thorpe. My hand in marriage in exchange for your hair. This is not how I envisioned your proposal, but it’s a deal."

"I think it’s a ‘square’ deal, if you know what I mean?!"

—-

Elizabeth and Dad have been talking a lot about the pep rally. I was told ‘not to worry,’ just to show up... without Brylcreem in my hair!

The pep rally is held on Friday afternoon in the school auditorium. I am seated on the first row with the football team, all of us in our jeans and jerseys.

The marching band enters from the rear and plays our fight song as they march to form a line across the front of the stage. The curtain is closed and they stand in front of it. They sound great, louder than ever. The song ends with all of us on our feet, cheering "Go Flattops, Go!" At the end of the cheer, as they always do, the other guys run a hand back across their flattop.

Coach Moler steps up to a microphone at the center of the stage, as the band moves to the sides to make room for him.

"We’ve come together as a team this year in a special way. It’s been great to see. One new student, Josh Thorpe, has been especially committed. I’d like to call Josh up to the stage."

The butterflies in my stomach take flight, and my legs turn to jelly. I have to mentally command myself to stand and walk to the stage.

"Josh, you’ve been real committed this year and made a difference. But I understand you’re ready to make another commitment to the team. Is that right?"

He was putting me on the spot. Forcing me to say that I wanted a flattop. Did I?

"W-w-well," I stammer, and flip my bangs the side. A guy at the back shouts, "Give him a flattop!!!" The student body starts shouting, "Flattop! Flattop! Flattop! ..."

Coach raises his hand and quiets the crowd. "Well, Josh. Do you want to get a flattop today—right here, right now?"

I act like I’m considering it for the first time. "I don’t know that I want to get a flattop, but it sounds like it must be time." The crowd cheers.

The curtain behind me opens, and in the spotlight at center stage is an old red and white barber chair, and my dad standing next to it in his white barber cape with clippers in hand.

The crowd erupts again and the coach motions me to the chair. I step up into the chair and sit, looking straight at my fellow students. My dad unfurls the pinstriped cape around me.

The coach puts his microphone in my face. "Well, Josh are you ready to become a real Plano Flattop, now?"

I look at my dad. He winks at me and then fastens the tissue around my neck. I look back at the coach. "I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. I’ve heard real good things about this barber." Everyone laughs.

My dad spins the chair around to face the back of the stage and tilts my head down a little. I hear the Oster 76s come up to speed and then touch down at the center of my nape. Then I feel them start to ascend up through my hair, tight against my skin. They climb up and up and up. I’ve never felt the clippers go up so high. It is clearly a feeling of having hair removed, of being shaved. They cross my crown and then I finally feel them pull away. I sense that dad has flicked a pile of hair to the floor behind me when I hear the cheers again. I feel the cold air rush up the back of my head. I feel my heart racing, and I make myself take a deep breath. Then, I feel the clippers start to climb again.

To be continued.

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