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Mackenzie snaps her gum and tilts El’s head under the bathtub faucet to rinse out the bleach. Their eyes open for a moment and stare up at the ceiling; Mackenzie lightly brushes the side of their face, prompting them to close. She snaps off her gloves and swaps out her gum before donning another pair and lathering the purple shampoo between her palms, humming a bit as she goes.

When the water runs clear she turns off the faucet and gently squeezes El’s hair with a towel. Pressing her gum flat with her tongue, she traps it in her teeth to blow a bubble that she collapses, then blows another until it pops on her lips.

“How much longer?” El asks, eyes still squeezed closed. They’re playing with the drawstring at the front of their sweatpants: wrapping it around their index finger then grasping it and pulling the twisted strand straight.

“Kiddo, do you want this done right or do you want it done fast?” Mackenzie’s tone is playful as she tips them up to sitting so they can peer in the mirror. “You sure you want to dye it today? It’s not quite as light as I’d like.”

“Mom’s gonna flip when she sees it, I don’t think she’ll let us finish if we don’t do it today.”

Mackenzie nods and snaps off her gloves again, reaching for the box of blue hair dye. “Okay. It just might not be as bright as you want.”

El’s chewing on their bottom lip, catching the skin there and reaching up to rip it off. Mackenzie gently catches their fingers and returns them to their lap, offering the spinning toy on the bathroom counter. El takes it and idly spins it between two fingers; Mackenzie waits and watches for their chest to rise and fall more slowly before she continues.

“I wish the flavor lasted longer in this gum,” she says, spitting it into some toilet paper and pushing a fresh piece into her mouth. She presses El’s head back a bit as she towels, finishing off with a dryer on the cool setting. The two can’t talk over the roar. Mackenzie chews her gum and El closes their eyes and goes somewhere else, fingers still feeling and spinning the toy in their lap.

When their hair is dry, Mackenzie paints their hairline, their ears, and the back of their neck with petroleum jelly before draping a towel around their shoulders and going to work mixing the dye. She paints the hair in sections and combs it through until the dye is frothy. Then, snapping off her gloves once more, she pulls out her phone to set a timer and check her notifications.

It’s well into the evening by the time they’ve washed out the blue dye with cool water and dried El’s hair again. El admires it in the mirror, mesmerized. Shaking the hair so it swishes around their shoulders, they bite their lip and throw Mackenzie a shy look. “Do you think we could cut it, next?”

“I don’t have my stuff for that, but yeah, we can. It’ll cost you another pack of bubblegum, though.”

Mackenzie hears a door close somewhere else in the house and cocks an eyebrow. “You ready to face the music?”

El sighs and reaches up to pick at their lip again. Mackenzie catches their eye and pantomimes moving her fingers from her lips to her lap. El nods, moving their fingers back to the spinning toy as they let out a staccato exhale. “I’m right here with you,” Mackenzie says.

El nods, resolved, and tucks their hair behind their ear, leaving the bathroom and walking down the hall with Mackenzie in tow.

Their mother is in the living room and looks up as the two enter. Mackenzie can see the scrunch on her nose and the purse on her lips as she looks El up and down and then sighs. She calls El a name that isn’t theirs and then turns her attention to Mackenzie. “I’m guessing I have you to thank for this?”

Mackenzie smiles. “Looks great, doesn’t it?”

Their mother shakes her head and pulls out her phone. “We’re going to have to get this fixed.”

“If you want to pay a couple hundred dollars to get El’s hair brown again, I won’t stop you. I’ll just dye it back, afterwards.”

Their mother sighs and shakes her head and calls El a name that isn’t theirs again. “I know being a teenager is hard, but there’s no need to embarrass yourself and me with these dramatic antics.”

Mackenzie opens her mouth to speak but stops when she sees El’s shoulders rising. Their head peering down, still spinning the toy between their fingers, they say quietly, “Mom, I’ve told you, that’s not my name anymore.”

“When your father and I named you —”

“Mom, cut it out,” Mackenzie cuts in. “El is old enough to know who they are. If you don’t like it, that’s not their problem. The only embarrassment in this family is a parent who doesn’t seem to want the child they actually have.” She steps in front of El, standing between them and their mother. She turns around to El. “You said you wanted a haircut, right? How about a sleepover?”

El brushes their hair behind their ear again and peers around Mackenzie to their mother. Then they nod. Mackenzie smiles and leans down. “Do you want to say what we practiced?”

Wide-eyed, El nods again. Taking Mackenzie’s hand, they puff out their chest a bit and move to face their mother. “This is who I am, Mom. Deal with it.”