#glaciesdraco

“Hey, Greg! Wow, your hair’s even shorter now!”

“Oh, hey, Amethyst.” Greg waved up at Amethyst, who was leaning out over the porch of the beach house. He ran a hand back over his close-trimmed hair, his fingers stumbling every time they didn’t encounter the long tresses he’d sported since high school.

He wasn’t even up to the front door yet, and already he felt self-conscious.

Not that that was Amethyst’s fault. She’d always been forthright, but there was never any cruelty in it. It just didn’t occur to her to censor herself. Going to the barber to have his unexpected, extremely dramatic, slightly traumatizing haircut neatened up had been more emotional than he’d expected. But it was just hair. There was no reason anyone else should magically know that it was bothering him a little.

“Lookin’ sharp,” she added, as Greg joined her at the top of the stairs. “Steven went to the store, by the way. Should be back in a few. You can hang out with me if you wanna.”

It was a nice day out. Waiting for Steven on the porch beat lazing around in the house. Plus, Amethyst was usually the least stressful Gem to spend time around. She didn’t try to make awkward small talk like Pearl, or predict various ways he could meet an untimely demise like Garnet. Talk about stressful— Greg still couldn’t eat bologna sandwiches, and he was extra careful stepping out of the shower.

His blood pressure did spike, just a little, when Amethyst reached up to pat his head.

“Man, it feels a lot different when it’s that short, huh?”

Greg couldn’t help but frown. “Yeah, sure does.” Looking at himself in the mirror this morning, he couldn’t help but see just how much of an old fart he was. The last vestiges of Mr. Universe gone, now he was some middle-aged, fat, balding guy with an automatic car wash.

In his peripheral vision was the violet glow of magic, and when he glanced over at Amethyst, her wild mane of lavender hair was gone, replaced by…

His haircut. Complete with the receding hairline.

“Oh, yeah!” Amethyst tapped her fingers against the back of her neck, the top of her head where purple “skin” now shone in the sun. “Feelin’ breezy and livin’ easy. This is comfy as heck.”

“That so?” Watching her drum on her own dome, it was hard not to smile. Amethyst looked ridiculous, but no more than Greg did. As usual, she had no idea how he felt, but why should she? A Gem could shift their appearance whenever they wanted, they didn’t get wrinkles or gain a spare tire or lose their hair. Or get old.

Amethyst turned to lean back against the porch railing, the picture of relaxation. “Yeah, man, I might keep it like this for a while. Smart thinking, G-man.”

“Glad you approve,” Greg said, only mostly joking.

They stood enjoying the salt breeze for a few minutes, watching the gulls and sandpipers cruise along the beach as they hunted for buried clams and crabs.

“It really sucks about Bluebird lopping off all your hair,” Amethyst said, out of nowhere.

Greg shrugged. “It’s not all that big a deal. Nobody got hurt.” Well, other than a few bruises Greg got when he hit the porch floorboards like a sack of potatoes. Steven had patched up worse on him before.

Amethyst gave him a sidelong look. “That doesn’t make it okay. Can you even grow it back?”

Greg had a sudden vision of himself at sixty, what was left of his hair finally back to its original length and mostly gray. “Eh,” he said, reaching up again to feel the short fluff that semi-circled his head. “After twenty years of the same style, maybe it was time for a change.”

“I mean, as long as you’re cool with it.”

“I’m cool with it.” Greg wasn’t sure he was entirely cool with it. Not yet, anyway. But he did feel better about it than he had this morning, and that was something.

“It really is comfy,” Amethyst said, after another couple minutes had passed in comfortable silence.

Greg nodded. “Right? And I can get out the shower in the morning and just go. No detangling, no blow-drying, no brushing, no nothing.”

“That’s the life, my man.” Amethyst grinned. “Feelin’ breezy!”