You trudged through Target, a scowl on your face. You’d just gotten into a huge argument with your mother – again – and driven off to the first place you could think of. You were in serious need of some retail therapy, and Target would just have to do.
You saw an unmistakably familiar purple-haired boy in khakis that seemed unnaturally baggy on him stocking the shelves a little ways from where you were standing in the cosmetics area – Michael Clifford. You and Michael were casual friends at school, but you hadn’t talked for a few weeks since it was summer break.
In no mood to socialize with anyone, you quickly turned back the other way, hoping Michael hadn’t seen you. You mindlessly made your way into the hair dye section.
After a few minutes, you decided the coast was probably clear and walked towards the end of the aisle, where you ran straight into none other than Michael Clifford. The shopping basket full of boxes of hair dye he was meant to be re-stocking clattered to the floor.
“Y/N! I’m so sorry!” He hurriedly apologized, and you helped him pick up the dropped basket and what had fallen out.
“Ironic that they’re making you re-stock the hair dye,” you smirked at him as you both stood back up.
“It’s great for sales, y'know. People are always curious about my hair color,” he ran a hair through his lilac locks.
Your phone rang, and you scowled before ignoring the call and shoving the phone back in your pocket.
“Brrr, cold,” Michael pretended to shiver. “Who was that?” He gestured to your phone.
“My pretentious bitch of a mother,” you clenched your teeth. “Aren’t you going to get in trouble for not doing your job?” You asked after taking a deep breath.
“Part of my – admittedly sucky – job is helping teenage girls rebel against their pretentious bitches of mothers by assisting them in choosing a hair dye so repulsively badass that said pretentious bitches of mothers are bound to hate it,” Michael grinned.
“Alright, Clifford, show me your expertise,” you found yourself giving in.
You and Michael spent the next few minutes comparing varyingly awful shades of red and black before deciding on one.
“Well, thanks Michael. I guess I should get home and figure out how to get this stuff into my hair,” you said.
“Or…my shift is over in five minutes. You could come over to my house and I could show you how it’s done?” He suggested.
“Are you asking me out, Michael Clifford?” You raised an eyebrow at him.
“I guess. It could be worse,” he grinned sheepishly.
“In that case, I accept. I’m sure my mother will be thrilled when my new purple-haired boyfriend drives me home to reveal my newly atrocious hair,”
“Woah woah woah, boyfriend? Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves now, Y/N,”
You rolled your eyes and elbowed him in the ribs. What had you gotten yourself into?
A/N: OMG sorry this sucked! But I really wanted to join the trend of the target things, even if I was pretty late with it lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this! Give me feedback and requests, and reblog this if you liked it! xxx- Soph