Lunch, the roar of voices bounced off cement walls. The grease of cafeteria food tainted the air. This was life roaring and loud. It was not a place Lolly felt comfortable. As soon as she finished her peanut butter and cheese sandwich, she left the lunch room and headed to the school library. It was her sanctuary, her haven and her break from the World. Honestly, she was not a fan of the World, at least not the one she inhabited. She wanted another world, the one she might have had. Grandma Toady didn't believe in pining after things a body couldn't have, but then Grandma was a senior citizen.With so much of her life already lived she had to have forgotten how it felt to be fifteen and awkward and alone.

The instant Lolly passed through the doors of the library, she felt her panic begin to subside. It would be okay, this was another good now in her day. She let the peace of the library settle over her. Someday she wanted to be a librarian. To spend all day in the quiet with books was her fondest dream. After slinging her backpack onto her favorite table, she went to the fiction section. She craned her neck sideways and read the titles. It was difficult to find a novel she liked. Her fingers touched several volumes, but she did not pull them. When she reached a huge fat book, her fingers stopped. Her hand pulled the book out. The title of it was, Tears are for the Living. The title stuck inside her head and seemed to echo. Sometimes phrases did that. Lolly did not cry often. Nobody ever called her a cry baby, but there were times when she wondered if crying might be better than that empty dry feeling she got when something hurt or was too big for her to understand.

Behind her, she heard the jingle of zipper tops. A finger jabbed her in the arm. “Hey, Lollypop how’s it popping?" Then there was the laugh, the laugh she had known since kindergarten. She turned to face her oldest friend. Munch was scrawny and his hair exploded in perfect curls on the very top of his head. As usual he was decked out. No half way for him. He sewed his own clothes out of stuff he bought from Goodwill. Today he was wearing a pair of bomber pants with multiple zippers that he had made out of a pinstripe suit. On his t-shirt was an original print he had made of a cut grapefruit. He did a little spin, so she could get the full effect.

“You look fantastic."

He grinned and said, “I do." He stood for a few minutes acting like he was looking at books. Munch only read what he had to. She knew what he was doing. He had something on his mind and he was trying to work up the courage to say it out loud. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, "I got a show coming up for Art Booster Club and I was wondering if you would be one of my models.”

Inside ice froze every capillary Lolly had. There was no way! NO WAY!

“Awww girl, don’t make that face. You know I will make you look good."

The book in Lolly's hand grew suddenly heavy. "I-I am sorry, but no. You know I don't like to get up in front of people."

With just a hint of pleading in his voice he said, "Please."

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

He knew the answer to that question. It was cruel of him to ask.

Exasperated he whispered, "You may not have any hair but you got a damn fine shaped skull and you should be proud. White girls usually can’t carry off the shine of skin, but you can.” He was in earnest.

She shook her head.

He grabbed a hold of her arm and said, "In the hall now." He propelled her out of the library into the empty hall. “I am just gonna say it this time. I just am, so know that when I say it, I am saying it because I love you." He let out a breath and took another in before he asked, "How long you gonna let Alopecia ruin your life?” This question really hurt, Munch knew it but he did not back down. "Tell me, when you look in the mirror what do you see?”

She whispered, “A bald freak.”

“Do not and I say, do not speak that way about my best friend. Yeah, you are different, but I am different too. I’m just a scrawny little black child from Alabama with a white Mama and in this school I fit no where, except with you.” He shook his finger at her and said, “Besides 147 million people in the world have Alopecia so you are not as special as you think.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

One hundred and forty seven million, that was a lot of people. Lolly touched the side of her head. When she was seven years old she started loosing her hair. Strands fell out at first, then fists full. One morning when she woke up every bit of hair was gone. EVERY BIT. Usually, when she woke up there was hair on her pillow, that morning there was not any and there hadn't been any since.

Munch smiled as only he could smile. “Please. If you want to wear a hat or a scarf you can. I will make you a crown if you want one. Just tell me what you want and I will do it."

When she wore a scarf or hat or a wig people thought she was taking chemo and they got even weirder. “No.”

He frowned and asked, “No you won’t do it or no you wont wear anything on your head? Remember I am your best friend and I NEVAA ask for anything. I do all the givin’ in this relationship and you know it.”

“You do not! If I didn’t remind you, you would forget to eat.”

“True. Please. I got an idea for a dress only a bald white beauty could pull off. I promise you, you won’t be sorry.”

Lolly shook her head.

“I will pay you! I swear I will. You will be the first Model the House of Munch has ever hired.”

Usually, Munch did not push this hard. Usually, he respected her space, but today he was begging. He never begged. She asked, “Why do you want me to do this so badly?”

He looked away from her and said, “Well, the truth is, so far everybody has said no. They don’t want no peculiar little duck taking their measurements or making clothes for them. The looks I have gotten today, you would think I was trying to give away raw sewage instead of the opportunity of a life time.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I guess I will have to NOT chase my dream.”

Dreams were such strange things. She had hers, Munch had his. It would be wrong of her to turn down the opportunity to help him chase his dream. Softly she asked, “If you make me a dress can I keep it?”

His eyes shot back to her. Hope sprang up like a beacon in them. “You mean you will do it?”

“Yes, for you and only you. You better make me look good."

"You foolish child, have you heard a word I have said to you? Do you doubt my gift, cause I sure don't."

"I trust your gift."

"Thank you Lollypop!" He gave her a fierce hug and let go. With a little shake of his head, he sent his curls dancing and his zipper tops jingling. His face lit up and he said, "Now, I feel refreshed. Now, I will go chase my dream and not succumb to the darkness of rejection!” He spun away from her and strutted down the hall to the cafeteria.

Inwardly, Lolly groaned, “What have I done now?” Munch still had to find more models. Though it was bad of her to hope he wouldn’t be able to, she still hoped he wouldn’t. She turned and went back inside the library to the fiction section. She slid the book she still held into its place on the shelf. The book would keep till another day. Through the window she saw that the ball had passed its zenith. The sixth period bell rang. She went to the table and grabbed her back pack. American history was next.

*

One now fell into another and finally the last bell of the day sounded. Another school day survived. Outside the first cool breeze tickled her bare scalp. She pulled her hoody up. Across the street was the football field. It was Wednesday and Max had a home game. He didn’t much care for his family to be present when he played. It must be hard for him to be embarrassed by everyone who loved him.

Lolly walked over to the field. She paid for her ticket and went to the bleachers. Grandma Toady, Aunt Jessie and Mitzi were already front and center. Munch had made Puccini a cheerleader outfit in Max’s school colors, gold and purple. When Mitzi saw Lolly, she waved Puccini and asked, “Where is the House of Munch, he said he was coming?”

“I dunno. I guess he’s looking for models.” The second she said it, Lolly knew she shouldn’t have.

“Why’s he need models?”

“He is doing a show for the Art Booster Club.”

Mitzi stuck out her chin and said, “I want to be a model.”

Lolly shrugged. "You can ask him when he gets here." If Munch didn’t want a four year old model, he was going to have tell her.

"I will."

Half way through the first quarter Munch walked up the bleachers. His head was down and he looked defeated. Had every girl in school turned him down? God, that must have been horrible. Guilt and relief got mixed up inside of her.

Before he could even say, Hello, Mitzi said, “Puccini and I want to be a models in your Rooster Club show.”

Munch's eyes were red rimmed. Had he been crying? He said, “You do?”

“Yes, we do.” Mitzi held out Puccini and wiggled him back and forth.

Grandma Toady laughed and said, “If you got room for a geezer, sign me up.”

A faint smile hesitated on Munch’s lips. “You are NOT a geezer. I would be honored to dress you for the show, Mrs. Toady."

Aunt Jessie asked, “Would you have room for me?”

Munch’s mouth dropped open. Aunt Jessie was beautiful and Munch had the worst crush on her. “Uh, yes, that would be so kind.” He got so bashful, Lolly wanted to laugh.

Grandma Toady asked, “Now, when is this shin dig?”

Munch said, “The week before Thanksgiving.”

That was six weeks away. Dread settled in Lolly’s stomach. Munch sat down beside her. He was beaming.