((Blair Moore continued from What a Day))
When Blair woke up that morning, she could tell something was wrong.
Blair had trouble sleeping as a rule of thumb; if she wasn't in just the right position, it aggravated her lungs and made it hard to breathe. She was grateful for weekends, since sleeping in was the only time she got 8 hours, especially when she stayed up late on Tumblr. Bad habit, but she didn't care.
Unfortunately, Blair woke up that Saturday morning with a jolt. She could feel the wrongness in the tug at her head when she shifted in place, and knew for sure when she tried to sit up and the pillow came with her head. "Aaaaargh!" She screamed, fury bubbling as she realized what had happened.
There was glue in her hair.
A lot if it.
"Miley!" Blair shrieked before dissolving into coughing from the force of her screaming. By the time her parents had rushed into the room, Blair was crying instead.
The red was all gone.
After a lot of yelling and general freaking the fuck out, followed by explanation, followed by more yelling and freaking out, the truth came out. Miley, her oh-so-beloved little sister/demon child, had seen fit to pour Elmer's glue onto a sleeping Blair's head. Apparently, Miley was angry that Blair had made fun of her at dinner for being in a musical.
So now Blair was half-shaven. The glue was stuck in deep, rubbed in by hours of tossing and turning. Blair's hair was stuck to the pillow like a disc on the side of her head. It would've looked funny if it wasn't fucking infuriating. Fucking Miley, that little shit, she was going to regret this. It looked like she did, crying and apologizing and carrying on, but she wasn't sorry. If Blair could read her mind, she knew what Miley would be thinking; 'worth it'.
Anyway. They'd had to cut the pillow away, cutting off a huge chunk of Blair's hair in the process, including her red-highlighted bangs that she loved. Now she looked like she'd gotten a buzz cut, and was trembling with anger by the time her mom was done with the scissors.
God. Fucking. Damn it.
Blair's hair grew fast, but it didn't matter.
She hadn't really liked the red anyway. Black was her color. But it didn't matter.
Miley was grounded for like, a month, and Blair had nearly been buried under her parent's sympathy. But it didn't matter.
It was just hair. She was dying, for Christ's sake, why mope about some stupid shitty prank that wasn't even that big a deal?
It. Didn't. Matter.
Blair was pissed. Her devil sister had defiled her, ruined her look. On Monday she'd go back to school, and looking like shit, she'd have to explain why her hair was so short and ugly-looking. She'd have to stare in the mirror every night hoping that her follicles were working fucking unpaid overtime. But most importantly, Blair had been slighted, and even if it seemed petty, Miley needed to be taken down a peg.
Blair was going to have her revenge, whatever it took.
Blair was home sick today.
Miley was at school, naturally. But Blair had a lung infection, more mild than usual, but still quite serious given her health issues. But for once, having gunk lungs was going to work in her favor. Today, it was Miley's turn to get fucked up. Big sis wasn't going to play nice.
Her parents were out today, both at work. She'd been very careful not to raise suspicion, acting the part of someone who deeply wanted to be up and about but couldn't manage today. As if. If Blair could sit at home and never go to class every day, she would. She really would. School was a hassle.
But you know what else was a hassle? Miley Moore, smarmy little snot extraordinaire. She was about to get what was coming to her.
Blair knew very well that Miley was (very mildly) allergic to peanut butter. It wasn't life-threatening or even remotely dangerous really, just made her break out in itchy hives for a few hours if she ate even a little peanut butter or, say, peanut oil. Blair also knew that Miley's favorite late night snack was some kind of weird caramel popcorn thing. It came in bags and was always oily as hell.
Do the math.
Blair was fortunate enough to find an opened bag of the junk in the kitchen junk food cabinet. Wheezing a bit, she pulled at the comforter draped over her shoulders before moving the bag to the counter. Then, she hobbled to a different cabinet and pulled it open, digging around a bit before finding an old bottle of peanut oil at the back.
Finally, Blair drizzled a little of the peanut oil into the bag. It felt good, actually. After all, it wasn't like her sister was going to die. She'd be miserable and itchy, sure, but Blair had to deal with a messy crop of hair that was just barely starting to grow out again. So it was even.
For the last step, Blair casually made her way to her little sister's room. She passed by a mirror on the way, and gave it an ugly look. Her black hair was unkempt, spiky and uneven. If she had any qualms about her trick, they melted away now.
To keep Miley from suspecting the real trick, Blair apple-pied Miley's bed. By folding the inner sheet upwards and tucking it into the pillow, the bed appeared untouched but was actually impossible to get into.
Returning to the couch, Blair coughed painfully, but as she settled into a comfortable position and turned on the TV, the smile barely left her face.
"Mooooooom!" Miley's scream the next morning filled Blair with the joy of one whose devious plan had come to fruition. Miley had developed a serious red, itchy rash of swollen hives all over her face and arms, having consumed the contaminated popcorn late after dinner just as expected.
Oh, there would be consequences. The reaction was easily recognizable as allergic, and if Miley hadn't touched anything with peanuts (which she swore she hadn't, of course) Blair was the obvious culprit. The bed had barely crossed Blair's mind after setting it up, but Miley was quick to point to it as evidence.
Blair was probably going to lose some privileges for a while. No blogging, no skating, nothing she couldn't handle. She still had her poetry, and besides, seeing Miley fuming and scratching her face?