of the grid, but she'd listened to other kids talk about how it was done. One thing they all agreed on was that changing race was easier than changing gender.
First she cut her hair. This was the dry side of the mountains, but when the long strands fell away the rest sprang into frizzy curls. Not quite like a black girl's hair, but not unlike some of the mixies she'd known.
With only her bike's rearview mirror, tipped to the side for the best possible view, Kelsa went for the modish cut her mother had been urging her to try. She shaped the curling mass into a wedge over one eye, with thin spikes darting down in front of her ears and another deep wedge on the nape of her neck. At least it felt like she'd cut a clean wedge in the back, but she was working by touch at that point and couldn't be sure.
It did make a difference - her face looked rounder, her cheekbones more prominent. She had to admit, her mother had been right about that.
Darling, you look so cute! Kelsa grimaced, and tried to push the thought of her next conversation with her mother aside. A conversation she dreaded. After this, the police would be looking for her. And the first thing they'd do was call her mother. After this, she couldn't just go home and pretend nothing had happened.
The thought of a felony on her record, of maybe even going to jail, made Kelsa shudder. Her counselor had warned her about doing things she might regret, and while a judge might accept grief for her father as an excuse for lesser crimes, Kelsa was pretty sure it wouldn't get her off for jailbreak.
But the alternative was to give up, go home, and watch her planet die. And even if Kelsa could have done that, she couldn't leave Raven in jail, at the mercy of his enemies. She owed him too much, and she liked him too much for that.
Human or not, he'd become a friend. And friends didn't leave their friends in jail.
She spread the temp color over her palms and rubbed it into her hair, disarranging the careful style. When she was certain she had completely worked in the glossy black coating, with no brown patches to give her away, Kelsa washed her hands and wiped the smudges off her face and neck.
It would take a few minutes to dry, which meant it was probably time to get Charlie out of the way. Kelsa had been off-soading with her father and some of his friends in the red-rock desert when one of them bent a wheel rim, so she knew this kind of message was sent as text - Sf nothing else, her father's friend had explained, it gave you some wiggle room if you happened to hit the wrong mechanic.
To: Charlie's Salvage and Repair
Your page says you do towing. I've bent a wheel rim on the jeep road up by Deadwood Lake.Kelsa had to stop and bring up a map to get some plausible coordinates.
Can you come up and haul me in? Everyone's all right, so there's no need to report this to traffic cops or anyone. Your rates looked really reasonable. I'd be willing to pay twenty percent more - and throw in a beer - for a discreet tow tonight. We were fishing. You know how it is. She signed it Johnny Phillipini, in case Charlie decided to check the pod's registration before he came. Her father's friend said that as long as no one was hurt, most tow drivers were willing to keep quiet about bringing you in, even if you'd had a few too many. After all, tow-truck drivers weren't legally required to report anything. It was just custom, and customs were open to compromise.
If that was true in Utah, it would certainly be true in the far less security-conscious wilds of Canada. But while a tow-truck driver might be bribed into letting some details slide, the police wouldn't.
Her hair had dried. Kelsa pulled out her comb and teased the black fuzz back into place. She was opening the foundation when her pod signaled that a text had come in.
To: Phillipini
Can do. Provided no one hurt. Charlie Rigby.Kelsa put down the tube to type in her reply.No one hurt. Honest. Thanks. Johnny.The dark foundation spread smoothly over her face, neck, arms, and the back of her hands. It looked like brown putty, but Kelsa knew that a good