"You’re not supposed to see the color," Jules explains again when I don’t budge. Then she brazenly reaches around my body to pull my wallet out of my back pocket. "Now get lost."
Sophie turns away to hide her grin when I shoot her a glance. The two of them have conspired against me, with Jules clearly being the driving force.That’s just what I need.
"I can’t fucking believe this." Grumbling, I turn around and leave.
I don’t mind Jules spending my money. It was always me paying for everything, anyway. But the fact that she still can wrap me round her little finger after all these years pisses me off a little. But what can I do? She’s my little Jules. I just can’t say noto her and would do anything for her, even if it makes me look like a damn fool. So I go outside and wait for them by the truck as if I were their fucking chauffeur.
Ten minutes later, they exit the store with bulging bags. They’re laughing and look like normal young women who just had the time of their lives while shopping. Their cheeks are rosy, their eyes sparkle, and their laughter echoes halfway across the big parking lot. For just a moment, I forget that neither Jules nor Sophie had a life that one would call normal. It’s then I realize I can’t just send Sophie away. No matter what fate or God or whatever else there might be had thought, Sophie climbed intomytruck. I will never forget the expression in her eyes while she did so. She looked so lost and alone that it almost tore me apart, and I decide then and there that I never want to see her like that ever again.
TEN
SOPHIE
Shopping was crazy. I’ve never seen so many things at once like in this supermarket. The small store I went to with the boys the night before wasnothingcompared to this one.
At first, I felt completely overwhelmed by the countless aisles and shelves, but Jules helped me find my way. Her direct, yet loving way of doing that helped me quickly throw the last bit of uncertainty overboard.
Cole, on the other hand, seemed a bit miffed over all the items he had to carry while he trotted behind us. But when I asked Jules whether we should take some of the stuff from him, she just laughed. "He could carry us both for hours on end and not even break a sweat. The clothes are nothing for him." And before I could say more, she had already dragged me along and pointed at something else I had never seen before.
As soon as we arrive back at Cole’s place, he carries the countless bags upstairs and then disappears without another word. My impression that he’s fleeing is reinforced when Jules calls after him, "Yeah, just get out of here. We can’t use you here now anyway."
Though her tone seems to be quite normal for them, I can’t suppress the question. "Aren’t you afraid he’ll get angry with you if you talk like that to him?"
Jules looks at me in wonder. "Cole being angry with me? Never ever. He loves me way too much for that." Then she reaches for the bag of toiletries and hair dye. "Now come on. Off to the bathroom with you!"
It must be nice to have such a close bond with another person. Because that seems to be exactly what keeps Jules and Cole together. The sometimes harsh tone between the two of them is not the only thing I noticed. The looks they give each other also speak volumes. It’s as if Cole is following her every move to make sure nothing happens to her. I could also see the depth of their affection in Jules’s eyes, even when she sticks her tongue out at him like a naughty child.
While I wonder if I’ll ever have someone so close, Jules gently pushes me into the middle of the bathroom. There, she places me on a chair she’d conjured out of thin air and covers the mirror above the vanity and the one in the corner with towels. After that, she places all the items we got next to the sink and takes her mobile phone out of her pocket.
Skepticism and a hint of fear spread through me. "Why are you covering the mirrors?"
She taps along on the screen of her phone until music comes out of the tiny speakers. Then she puts it down, ties her hair up, and looks at me, beaming with delight. "This is going to be a makeover. You’re not allowed to see what I’m doing," she explains. "Where would be the fun otherwise?"
When I look at her uncertainly and chew on my lip, she squats in front of me and puts her hands on my knees. "Don’t worry. You’ll look amazing, and it won’t hurt either. I promise."
"Okay," I reply with a nod and can’t help but return her smile as she rises.
"All right, let’s do this!"
Jules lied. Itdoeshurt. If I had known beforehand that she was going to pull out hairs and how painful that could be, I would have run away screaming. But she holds me firmly in the chair.
"If I stop now, your brows end up uneven. I can’t let that happen," she makes clear sternly, before the tip of her tongue darts out between her lips again.
During her torture, the hair dye she applied earlier is developing. It stinks terribly, but I keep my mouth shut. What follows after the dying and brow tweezing doesn’t seem to be fun either.
"Women started doing it over one hundred years ago, and since then, most of us kind of felt compelled to do it. It’s actually totally stupid, but… well… yeah." Shrugging, she waves a razor in front of my face before holding it out to me. "You don’t have to do it. At all! But I figured you’d at least like the opportunity to do it."
"It really sounds kind of stupid."
"I know!" she whines.
"Areyoushaved?" I ask skeptically.
"Yes."
Carefully, I take the razor from her. "Everywhere?"
"Yes."
