“You are very lucky to have such a supportive not-girlfriend.” He pulled a face.
“Don’t start.” She rolled her eyes at him and refilled her water bottle. She took a long drink before continuing. “You know my reasons.”
“Yes, I do.” He inspected his nails as a way to fill the dramatic pause he was building. “I just don’t agree with them. But I’ve come to like and respect you in the last two weeks, so I’ll leave it at that. Even if I think you’re being an idiot.”
Rory whipped her head around. “An idiot?” She fixed him with a glare. After acing her A levels, getting a first at university and being at the top of her law class, no one had ever called her an idiot. She had always been praised for being one of the brightest young lawyers in her firm, and this helped her rise steadily through the ranks to where she was now.
“Yes.” He dragged her back to the mats. “Do your cooldown while I lecture you on all the ways she’s perfect for you and besotted with you.”
Rory gulped. She didn’t need anyone to tell her. She knew Gemma was right for her, perfect even. The last few weeks had proved that. But would she still be right for her when she had short hair, when she was mistaken for a man in public? The thought of having Gemma as her girlfriend and then losing her was too much to think about. She moved through her stretches as she cooled down, with Isaac correcting her gently, and let her mind wander again. What if she wasn’t happy with just a haircut? What if she wanted to take testosterone? Fully transition? Would Gemma walk away from her then? Would she remember she was a lesbian and liked women and didn’t want whatever Rory was turning into?
The thoughts plagued her as she showered and started the journey to the barber shop Isaac had recommended. She’d decided to use her car today rather than the tube so she could be alone with her thoughts and now regretted that decision. She would have welcomed the hustle and bustle of the train and the rich variety of people you met on it. But as it was, she was alone in her car in the slowest moving traffic you could imagine, with every worst-case scenario running through her head.
What if her boss didn’t like her new look? Her lecturer all those years ago could be right. Did people really want a butch lesbian lawyer in men’s suits working for them? She had put all her money into her house and on the extravagant engagement party Darcy had wanted, leaving her with no savings. How would she survive if she had no job? She remembered Gemma’s dad offering her a job, but that was more than likely dependent on her being his future daughter-in-law, which she wasn’t. Despite all of Isaac’s very wellput together arguments on how Rory was an idiot for not wanting Gemma, there was the fact that Gemma didn’t want a relationship right now and hadn’t been able to make a relationship of more than a few weeks’ work.
By the time she arrived at the barber shop, she was convinced that this move would leave her homeless, jobless and ostracised from her family. Her hands were shaking as she locked her car, and she felt like she could throw up on the pavement at any time. She checked her phone for messages, but aside from the last one from Gemma saying she’d meet her at the barbers’, there was nothing. She walked towards the shop, but her feet felt like they were stuck to the floor. Just as she was about to turn around and run back to her car, a warm body engulfed her in a hug and the daze that had surrounded her lifted.
“You look sick to your stomach,” Gemma said in lieu of greeting. “Did you get enough fluids at the gym? It’s very hot today.”
Rory blinked and wondered what she was talking about when she realised Gemma was giving her a reason for why she looked bad and was actually gently asking if she was okay.
“Yeah, I did I…” The excuses for why she was distracted wilted on her lips as she felt Gemma’s hand slip into hers. “I’m nervous.” She admitted quietly. “It’s silly because this is something that I’ve wanted for ages, but I’m nervous.”
Gemma shot her a soft smile combined with a squeeze of her hand.
“Of course you’re nervous. That’s perfectly normal and not silly at all.” She reached a hand up to cup Rory’s face, and Rory pressed her cheek into Gemma’s warm palm. “Remember, you are in charge today. You don’t need to doanything you are not happy with. If you chat to Craig and decide he’s not the barber for you or that you don’t want to do this now, that’s absolutely fine.”
Rory let Gemma’s warmth and support leech into her and took a couple of deep, calming breaths. Gemma’s perfume wafted up her nose and soothed her in a way it never had before.
“I just feel...” She let her head slump forward, breaking eye contact with Gemma. “I feel like a fraud, going into a barber when I’m a woman. What if the guys take the piss out of me, what if I don’t fit in, what if…”
Her voice trailed off and she stared at the cracks in the pavement.
“What if you do fit in?” Gemma asked. “Or what if they just don’t care that you’re a woman? Not everyone sees gender as binary. To them, you may be just another paying customer. I can’t believe that Isaac would recommend someone who’s going to make you feel bad. Now we could stand here all afternoon catastrophising, or you could walk through the door and find out. I won’t leave you until you feel safe, and if you want to go home, we can do that too.”
Rory gave Gemma’s hand a grateful squeeze and turned towards the barbers’ shop. Looking through the window, she could see a couple of guys lounging in the chairs in front of the mirrors and gulped. She wasn’t sure where this insecurity came from. She used to be fearless about heading into new situations and new experiences. But that was a decade ago, she realised, and the last impulsive thing she had done was to seduce Gemma into her bed at Michelle’s party.
With one last deep breath, she mentally pulled up her big-girl pants and walked into the shop.
The shop was simply decorated with a laminate floor and wood panelling on the walls. A neon sign hung on theback wall. On one side, three barbers’ chairs stood in front of large mirrors. A younger man lounged in one, hardly looking up from his phone, whilst in the other a tattooed guy sat until he noticed them enter through the door. Rory gripped Gemma’s hand and looked between the two of them.
“Hi, is one of you Craig?” She used all her legal training to keep her voice neutral and steady despite her heart thumping against her ribcage and her knees feeling wobbly.
The tattooed guy unfolded himself from the chair, and she looked up at him.
“Yeah, that's me. You Rory?”
She nodded.
“Awesome. Isaac said he’d recommended me.”
She nodded again.
“Guess I’ll have to buy him a beer next time I see him.” He chuckled, and the deepness of his laugh rumbled in his chest. “Come and take a seat and tell me what you’re thinking.”
Rory sat in the chair and appreciated the no-nonsense style Craig had. The last time she’d had her hair cut, it had been fifteen minutes of tea, magazines and fluff before someone even spoke to her about what she wanted. Then the hairdresser had scrunched her face into a scowl at the thought of cutting off Rory’s chestnut tresses and said it wouldn’t suit her at all to go any shorter than she was already. Of course, that had been a salon recommended by Darcy, and this was a different prospect altogether. She swallowed a couple of times and fixed Craig with a decent look.
“I want to cut my hair short.” She said over the thrumming of blood in her ears.
