Eryn made a noise. “Walker’s one to talk. He just loves you as you are and wants to keep you the same forever.”
I laughed, and it felt easy, the sound bouncing off the glass and tile. Eryn caught my eye and grinned. “What about you, Lil? Any cowboys knocking on your door?”
The question hit harder than I expected. I stared at my lap, picking at a loose thread on the cape. “No. Not really.” I paused, then heard myself add, “Unless you count Ford Brooks.”
Caroline nearly dropped her phone. “I knew it!”
“Crap,” I said, already flushing. “I just meant—he’s been in the bakery lately. That’s all.”
Eryn arched an eyebrow. “That’s not all. I’ve heard about the way you look at each other.”
I shook my head, mortified. “We don’t look at each other. Or, if we do, it’s just because he’s polite and I’m awkward.”
Caroline made a sympathetic face. “No, there was definitely a vibe I picked up on earlier. You could do a lot worse, you know.”
I snorted. “Yeah, but I’m not planning on doing anything. Not with anyone. I’m officially retired from men.” My chest tightened, and I could tell from their expressions that both friends saw it.
Eryn said, softening, “You don’t have to date him. But you are allowed to enjoy things, Lily. Even flirting. Even if it doesn’t go anywhere.”
Missy swooped back in, tucking a towel around my shoulders. “We’re ready for the highlights,” she announced. “Your skin tone is perfect for it. Trust me.”
I glanced up, seeing my own face in the mirror—big brown eyes, tired but hopeful. I looked older than I wanted to, but there was something else in my reflection, too. A little bit of light.
“Okay,” I said, almost surprising myself. “Let’s do it.”
Missy got to work. She sectioned my hair with those little duckbill clips, painted the strands with cold, goopy bleach, and folded the foils with the kind of precision usually reserved for origami masters. The process was weirdly relaxing. I listened to the conversation flowing around me—Eryn’s stories about influencer drama, Caroline’s play-by-plays of the weirdest patient complaints—and let myself drift in and out of the present moment.
At one point, Caroline reached over and squeezed my hand, her grip warm and steady. “You’re brave, you know,” she whispered.
I smiled at her, my heart stuttering in the best way.
Missy finished the foils and set a timer, then massaged something sweet-smelling onto my scalp. As I sat there marinating, I looked at my friends and tried to imagine what my life would have been like without them. Lonelier, for sure. Maybe even impossible.
“Can I ask a dumb question?” I said, voice barely above a whisper.
Eryn twisted to face me. “There are no dumb questions. Only dumb boys.”
I took a breath. “Do you ever feel like you’re just . . . pretending to be someone people might like? Like, maybe if you look a certain way, you’ll finally fit?”
Caroline nodded immediately. “I feel like that all the time. Especially in Whittier.”
Eryn’s eyes went soft. “You don’t have to change a thing to fit. We like you already. But if the outside helps you feel strong on the inside? Then yes, let’s do the glow-up. Let’s do all the glow-ups and self care.”
I let that sink in. Maybe they were right. Maybe it was okay to want things for myself.
Missy returned, stripped the foils, and led me to a row of sinks for the rinse-out. Warm water poured over my scalp, and for a second, I could have fallen asleep.
“I’m putting some toner in, and you’ll just wait here for a little bit so it can process.”
I didn’t really know what that meant, but I was leaning back and relaxed, so I kept my eyes closed until I felt her washing out whatever she had put in. After returning to the chair by themirror, she combed it out and I was surprised at how gentle her hands were.
After a quick blow-dry, she spun the chair around. “Ready for the big reveal?”
I nodded, my stomach flipping over.
She turned me to face the mirror. The girl staring back at me was still me—big brown eyes, soft jawline, the stubborn nose that had been broken once and never quite healed straight. But now my hair was streaked with honey and gold, bright pieces catching the light and making my skin look alive, not washed out. The layered ends curled gently at my chin and shoulders, framing my face the way cheekbones never had.
I stared. For a second, I almost didn’t recognize myself.
