I was allowed to join class that morning despite the blatant violation to the dress code, but I had to promise that the next day I'd be in compliance.

The morning went by with me furiously looking up manly passing wigs online, but even if that were a viable option it'd never arrive to the Alberta wilderness in a single day. I almost got caught by a teacher while I was looking up how to pin my hair up to make it look like I had a short bob, but I didn't know how that was going to work on a daily basis.

By the time lunch came I had resigned myself to my fate. What was the big deal with hair anyway? It could grow. I didn't care about it.

Still, as I sat alone at a lunch table I stared at the bundle of my hair in my hand and sighed. Up to now I'd grown it not because I particularly wanted to, but because I was a girl and it was expected that I had girly hair. I realized that I was not wearing any makeup or nail polish, or carried a purse around these days and I was not dying from it.

There were so many things I was used to doing just because I was a girl that I hadn't thought of.

Two shadows cast over me and I looked up as Pace and Brian dropped their trays in front of me. I glanced from one to the other as they picked up their food and started eating without saying a word.

Finally I couldn't take it anymore. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

Pace swept his brown hair away from his forehead as he chewed on what basically was half of his sandwich. But then again, his tray was heaped with more sandwiches.

"So, Bernal Oil, huh?"

I leaned back on my chair and folded my arms. "What about it?"

"Man, you're not gonna have it easy in town."

Brian leaned forward and said, "Most of the people in town work in oil. People started getting laid off when Bernal Oil brought in some new machines that are supposed to do the work of two people, you know."

I frowned. Was that the problem that had forced my dad to come over? To try to appease the jobless people?

"I didn't know," I said.

"We heard the big boss of Bernal was moving to town to negotiate with the unions," Pace said and it was a miracle we understood him, because his mouth was still stuffed with food. "Is that your dad, then?"

I nodded and sank in my chair.

Yeah, so I knew my dad was a bit of a dick. A person had to be, if they were to reach the lengths he'd reached. But I'd never imagined that he'd be the kind of businessman who'd do whatever it took to get a profit, even if it meant cutting off other people from their own.

"I guess that means everybody hates me now."

"Not necessarily," Brian said after taking a swig of Coke. "It's not like you're the one who ordered the people get fired, right?"

I pursed my lips. "Right."

"Hunter's having a spot of trouble wrapping his head around the fact that you have nothing to do with the decisions your old man takes, because his own old man was one of the people affected."

Pace popped his soda can open and said. "Mine too, actually."

I almost felt like apologizing, but at the same time I felt like it was my own father who had to show contrition. Why did I have to pay for his sins? Why did I have to cut off my hair? Why did I have to pretend to be who I wasn't, in a place where I didn't belong?

I steamed for the rest of the day. Once school was let out, Brian asked me if I was going to join them at practice that afternoon, but I told him there was something I had to do that day. I stomped down the street, and it was a wonder the whole town didn't shake under the force of my wrath. I definitely didn't want to do it, but I knew that it'd hurt my dad way more than it'd hurt me, and so therefore I had to do it.

I asked somebody in a corner where I could find the barber in town and got directions there. An Open sign hung outside the door and I opened it. The little bells atop announced my arrival and I was ushered in to sit as the barber finished up shaving an old man. This town was made of men. Old. Young. And they all seemed to work in the oil industry around or wish they were professional hockey players. It was everything everybody could talk about, and I felt like I was caught in between.

I sat on the chair when it was my turn and the kindly black man covered me with a cape. He whistled as he saw my silky long hair.

"It's not common for boys to have such nice long hair," he said, and once more I tried to not take offense at the fact that everybody immediately thought I was a boy. He put his hands on my shoulders and smiled. "What do you want me to do with it?"

I took a deep breath and said. "Cut it all off."

His eyebrows went up and he didn't say anything for a bit, as if letting me think through what I was saying. I imagined the look on my dad's face once I joined him at the inn that night, and it made it all better.

I cleared my throat and with more confidence said, "Make me look like Francisco Lachowski."

"Who?" he asked and my cheeks twitched. Of course he wouldn't know about the hottest guy in the world.

"Like a really hot guy."

I showed him a picture. Twice he asked me if I was sure and twice I said I was more than sure, I was dead sure. I watched as he gathered it all in a pony tail and sheared it off with the sharpest scissors I'd ever seen. I blinked back tears as I asked if I could donate it, and he said sure, that we could figure that out somehow.

That had been the hardest part. After that he started shaving off the back and sides and trimming the top, until I was satisfied that I looked like a hot teenage boy. I ran my fingers through my hair repeatedly, unused to the light weight and texture of my hair so closely shaved off. I paid and thanked him and left the shop feeling like the ghost strings of my hair were still hanging from my scalp. The barber had given me a baggy where the rest of my hair was, so that I could figure out where I could mail it. At least that one good thing would come from this shitshow.

The diner came into view and I veered to it, suddenly in need of a chocolate milkshake. I opened the front door and was greeted by a gasp. As I looked up I realized that the reason was that the waitress dad and I had spoken with yesterday, had been carrying a tray dangerously close to the door and she froze in mid stride before a collision. The contents of the tray threatened to topple and I reached out to help her balance them. In the process, my hand touched hers and the wildest thing happened.

She blushed to the root of her hairs.

"Hi," she said, a few octaves higher than was normal.

Once the tray was stable I pulled back and said, "Hi. Booth for one?"

She cleared her throat. "Sure, take a seat wherever you like."

I retreated slowly to a booth by the window. When no one was looking I pulled up my cellphone and turned the camera to face me. I looked good, but not that good. Nice short hair couldn't be enough to make girls like me, right? It wasn't like I actually looked like Francisco Lachowski.

Fortunately an older woman came over to get my order. I asked for the shake and some fries and once I was alone started looking up online where I could mail my hair. I found a really nice place that made wigs for children who had lost their hair after chemo treatments. When the older waitress dropped by with my food, I asked her where the post office was and while she gave me instructions the front door opened to let in a large group of people. I startled once I realized it was the guys from my class.

Dean was the one who saw me first and he hesitated for a moment, but his friends made up his mind as they bundled him over and crammed into my booth.

"Looking good, Charlie," Pace said as he helped himself to my fries. I hurt him for that, and he pulled back his smarting hand with a pout.

"Thanks, but order your own shit," I said and sipped from my shake, grunting as Brian pushed me so that Hunter could sit at the end of the bench. I asked, "What are you all doing here?"

"We got kicked out for a random ice skating competition," Pace said. "Oh, by the way, this is Shane, one of our defensemen."

I nodded at the boy who squeezed in next to Dean and said, "Charlie Bernal."

He was polite, but I could tell that my last name rattled him.

"Let me guess," I said. "My dad also fired your dad."

"My uncle, actually," he said.

"Fan fucking tastic." I sank in my seat and looked out the window. It was going to be a great year.

"Never mind that," Pace said, trying to sneak another fry until I glared at him. "We'll pick you up at 6am tomorrow to start training."

"What?" I asked.

At that second the girl waitress came by, notepad in hand to grab our orders. All the boys in the table visibly melted. I caught Dean's eye in what felt almost like a show of solidarity. He seemed just as amused as I was and unaffected by her appearance.

"What can I get you?" she asked.

It was Hunter who replied, "Hey, Lena Lee."

Oh, so this was the famous Town Belle? I shifted in my seat so that I could look at her closer. She was pretty, that was for sure, but I wouldn't have thought it was enough to turn a whole table of teenage boys into putty. Then again, taste was in the eye of the beholder.

Once she saw me, color rushed up her throat again.

This time Dean raised his eyebrows up at me at the same time as she took the orders. Hunter twisted in his seat so he could glare at me, and I tried my best to look innocent.

"What the hell was that?" he asked.

I raised my hands up. "Hey man, I have no idea. She's all yours."

He hmph'ed at me and sat back. "You all should have told me if all I needed to get her attention was a haircut."

They started ribbing him for it, but I cleared my throat until they all turned to me. "I thought you all hated me."

"Nah, we don't hate you," Hunter said. "I was a bit caught aback but it's not your fault."

Brian nudged me with his elbow. "Told you."

"Besides," Pace continued. "We're one defenseman down and we want your mean hook. What do you say?"

I looked at each of their faces. It was clear to me that if I wanted to somewhat belong in this town I had to publicly go against my dad or somehow get into hockey. I realized that I could do both at the same time.

"Okay. I'm in."

They cheered and high fived each other and I sipped at my milkshake with a smile. This was not going to go well with dad. I couldn't wait.