Introducing Zak

Now, there was some great hair at my high school, but Zak's was the best. 

Guitar class brought people from all the different social cliques together.  Once I entered that realm, I developed an enormous crush on Zak.  He turned out to be a really nice guy, too.  Zak would walk into class in the morning. sit down, and brush his hair.  His spirit animal had to be a horse, because he had this long face and this beautiful flowing mane.  If he had given me a chance, I would have brushed his hair on the daily.  Once he let me French braid it, and I swear I thought I was going to have a heart attack.  I was so fixated on his hair, that I would find myself twirling my hair around my finger when he would twirl his.  While sitting in the audience at a guitar concert, my mother scolded us for twirling our hair.  We looked at each other, traded strands, and twirled each other's hair in a fit of laughter.  Twirl.  Say it.  Twiiiiiirl....

Anyway, that sad day came.  Zak hacked his locks off.  All that was left was a chin-length bowl cut. I cried a little inside.  He sat down beside me.  I told him it looked nice.  I was lying.  And he told me that he was a little disappointed.  I asked why.  He said, "Well, I was really hoping it would look a little more like your hair."