I tried to settle back down, but the chaos around me was building, busy travelers pushing through the terminals. Time to get up.I had been too keyed up at Dad’s to go to sleep, so I just packed everything and headed to Austin. I prayed my lights and all would be okay in the trunk of my car over the weekend, and walked into the airport at 4 a.m., sprawling out to try and sleep a little before the plane took off.The giant clock overhead read 8:35. Plenty of time to spruce up my appearance before I met the Hoebags at the terminal. I slipped the straps of my duffle and camera bag off my ankles, where I’d entwined them for safe keeping while I slept.The bathroom mirror confirmed the worst: I was officially a mop-head. They could start a video series with me alone: Tresses Gone Wild. Extreme Makeover: Einstein Hair Edition. The Good, the Bad, and the Fugly. Mom’s voice almost came at me, but I shook her away. “Stop it. Bradford likes it.”But still, I had to do something. I dug out a bottle of conditioner, remembering how Fern—oh that bitch, Fern—had sleeked my ponytail before the game.
