Her mother's hands tightened around the steering wheel as she shook her head and drove past the tattoo parlor and shook her head in aristocratic disgust.

But the daughter's gaze followed stayed on the boy with the piercings and mohawk and she smiled. “That boy has cool hair,” she stated, matter-of-factly.

Her mother raised one meticulously plucked eyebrow. “Please tell me you are kidding.”