Page 111 of His to Save
“No color, got it.” She claps her hands together. “A gloss then. It will just make it, like, really shiny.”
Before I can reply, two women step into the waiting room. “Scarlet, Nora, we're ready for y'all.”
I once again let Scarlet take the lead as she warmly greets both women, before relaying to one of them what I want.Here's to hoping she knows her stuff...
Ninety minutes later, I'm a well-styled puddle of goo. Seriously, I’m pretty sure my stylist has magic fingers or something.
“Wow,” I whisper, for probably the hundredth time as I run my fingers through my perfectly waved hair. It's seriously perfect. Bouncy and healthy and shiny and... yeah, perfect.
“If you liked that, you'll love a pedicure,” Scarlet says, grinning at me. “Now let's go pick our colors.”
“What are you getting?” I ask, my heart already racing at the multitude of choices laid before me, in neat and tidy rainbow order. Bottle after bottle, as far as the eye can see, and I’m somehow supposed to narrow it down to one.
“Something bright and bold.” She taps her index finger against her bottom lip. “Oh, this one!” She grabs a polish that I can only describe as neon red. It's pretty, if a little loud.Perfect for Scarlet.
“Hmm.” I scan the wall until the colors all start to blend together before finally settling on a soft pearlescent blue. It's understated but pretty. Safe, but with a little sparkle, too.
“Oh, that's cute,” Scarlet murmurs as she guides me over to the pedicure chairs. “Have you ever done this before?”
I smile, as a bittersweet warmth fills my chest. “A few times with my mom before...” I swallow roughly but push through. The past is just that, and I have to learn to be able to talk about it. I have to own my trauma so it doesn’t own me. “Before she met R-Rand.” I hate the way I struggle to say his name, like it somehow will summon him to me.
When I readHarry Potteras a kid, I always thought it was so stupid how everyone was scared to say Voldemort's name. But now, I get it. There is a power in a name, and whether I like it or not, his still holds power over me.
But the stronger I grow, the weaker his hold on me becomes, and one day, he'll be nothing more than a bad memory.A really freaking awful memory.
“How in the hell did Atlas come from a man like that?” Scarlet says, snapping me back into the present.
“I ask myself that all the time. He's such a good man, and his dad is, well, evil.”
“It was really bad?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “I mean, I saw how you looked, you know, but like...”
I sigh as a maelstrom of emotions race through me, before offering her a wobbly smile so she knows I'm not mad. After all, it's human nature to be curious, even when it’s morbid. Or maybe especially when.
“Yeah, it was bad. Really bad.” So bad I’m not sure how to discuss it conversationally while sitting in a massage chair with my feet in warm, bubbling water. “I still, um, have nightmares. But Atlas, he helps.” I lower my eyes to my lap in an effort to hide my flaming cheeks—I bet they’re just about the same coloras the nail polish she picked. I mean, I'm talking to her about her ex, who I'm currently dating. Talk about awkward. Then again, nothing about my life has been very orthodox, so why start now?
“It's fine, you know,” she says, reaching over and laying her hand over the top of mine. By some miracle, instead of flinching, I find comfort in her touch.
“What is?”
“You and Atlas.” She flits her eyes toward the ceiling and laughs under her breath before focusing back on me. “Don't get me wrong, I was mad at first, but real talk, he and I weren't all that serious, and the two of you are clearly meant to be together. I may be a bitch, but I'm not aragingbitch. I'd never stand in the way of true love.”
“True love?” Butterflies take flight within me, their wings flapping wildly in my belly. “You really think so?”
“Girl.” Scarlet draws out the word. “That man would burn the whole world to the ground to save you. So, yeah, true love.”
She sounds almost wistful as she says it, and I can't help but wonder if she's ever been in love. But before I can ask, my nail technician drops down onto the stool in front of me, effectively stealing all of my attention.
“Areyou still cool with The Smoke Shack for lunch?” Scarlet asks once we're back in her car. “It's a little out of the way, so if you're hungry, we can go somewhere closer.”
I shrug. “I'm good with anything.” It's not like I'm going to make a fuss when she's doing all of this for me. As sad as it sounds, I'm just happy to be along for the ride.
“Okay then, buckle up and let's go.”
Scarlet cranks the radio and belts the lyrics at the top of her lungs, while I stare at her in wonder. How she manages to keep us on the road while singing and dancing like she’s on stage is beyond me. I still hate driving—and I still suck at it, too.
“So, what gives?” she asks, when she mimes holding the mic my way and I shake my head. “Are you shy, or just a shower singer?”
“I don’t… I don’t know any of these.” I slide my hands under my thighs to keep from fidgeting.
