My YA novel's ending...what do you think?

I stood there, hair still slowly growing back in from my tussle with the clippers. The locker door was open and in the mirror I could see Neil walking up behind me. I tried not to hope because hope hurts like hell. I suddenly realized that he called my name.

When I turned around he was standing there with a bouquet of purple and yellow irises--my favorite flower (he must have done some asking around to figure that out, boys usually just bring the old stand by: roses). "I can't believe I never saw you before," he started, "I must have been blind." He handed me the flowers and I smiled. It was the beginning of a new life for me.

At least it would have been if Disney were in charge of writing my life. Disney hasn't written any of my life. Edward Gorey, maybe. A chapter or two by Tim Burton. But never, ever Disney. The real story went exactly like this:

I stood there, hair still slowly growing back in from my tussle with the clippers. Bits of it stuck out randomly in protest to having been shaved off in the first place. As I applied the newest layer of Dr. Pepper flavored LipSmackers lip gloss, in the mirror I could see Neil walking up behind me.

Then he walked on by as he had always done in the past. I smiled to myself. The thing is we all have types. Sometimes girls are willing to go "outside the box" and date someone a little different from her type, but I have yet to find a successful way to get a guy to do that. And if you're not his type in the first place he won't see you. No matter how many "and they lived happily ever afters" get shoved down our throats, if you're not his type he won't see you in the second place either.

So, Neil walked past me and I closed my locker door. I put a little bit of lip gloss on my fingers and ran it over the gnarliest cowlick on my head just to make sure it would stick up a little more fiercely. Then, I smiled to myself. I didn't win his heart. I may never win any guy's heart. But right now I had lip gloss in my hair and I was happy.