"What seems to be the problem?" "Her hair," Ms. Ror stated flatly. "It's against regulations." "I have alipcia," Ariel managed to say.
My mom filed paperwork. Please check. Nurse Adams moved to her filing cabinet. Let me see. Don't bother.
Miss Ror interrupted. I already checked her file this morning. There's a general medical form, but nothing specific about hair exemptions. This was a lie, but Ariel was too overwhelmed to challenge it. But my mom talked to Principal Wexley.
Ariel insisted. Please call her. Your mother's deployed overseas, isn't she? Ms. Ror's tone was suddenly sympathetic, though her eyes remained cold.
Look, I understand this is difficult, but rules are rules. We need to remove these extensions for cleanliness and equality. Nurse Adams hesitated. Shouldn't we call her father first? I have parental permission on file, Ms.
Ror lied again, her voice confident. This is a school policy matter. Were authorized to enforce the dress code. Still uncertain, nurse Adams glanced between Ms. Ror and Ariel.
I suppose if there's permission. There is, Ms. Ror assured her. Now, do you have clippers? These extensions need to come out.
Ariel's blood ran cold. No, please, she begged. My hair. You don't understand. But Ms.
Ror was already guiding her into the exam chair. Nurse Adams reluctantly brought out a set of clippers from a cabinet, still looking unsure. This is for your own good, Ariel, Ms. Ror said, switching on the clippers. The mechanical buzz filled the small office.
Everyone follows the same rules here. With a swift motion, Ms. Ror began removing Ariel's braided extensions, revealing the patchy, sparse hair beneath. Tears streamed down Ariel's face as she watched pieces of her carefully crafted camouflage fall to the floor. See, that wasn't so bad, Ms.
Ror said, her voice falsely cheerful. But she didn't stop. With the extensions, the clippers continued to move across Ariel's scalp, taking what little natural hair remained. "That's enough." Nurse Adams finally intervened, but the damage was done.