It takes me a moment to get my bearings, and in that time Aidan is already far ahead of me. I have to race to catch up, and Aidan keeps turning around to check on me.
“You okay back there, Maxwell?” Aidan yells out.
Hearing my maiden name takes me by surprise, and I falter. Regaining my balance, but not my composure, I keep pedaling.
We ride on for another ten minutes, and Aidan pulls off to the side of the path again. This time he gets off the bike. I do too, removing my helmet and shaking out my hair.
“It's fun, right?” Aidan smiles as he speaks and unbuckles his helmet. He pulls it off, and his hair sticks up everywhere.
I walk over, reaching out and running my hand through it. My fingers close over a small section and I lift it up. “I don't think I've ever seen your hair so long. You should get a haircut before the wedding this afternoon.” I let go of Aidan's hair and step away.
“I already called the barber my dad likes and he doesn't have any openings today.” Aidan shrugs. “I guess I'll just be scraggly in all of their pictures.”
“I could cut your hair,” I offer. I've never done it before, but it doesn't look that hard.
Aidan eyes me. He doesn't need to ask if I've ever cut hair. He knows I haven't.
“Okay,” he says.
My eyes fly open. I didn't really think he’d agree. “Great,” I say, feigning confidence in my ability.
Aidan reaches down and grabs his water bottle, holding it out as if to toast me. I grab my own and tap it against the bottom of his. We finished drinking and get back on our bikes. It’s downhill, so it's easier going back than it was coming in. We don’t stop again until we reach the car.
Aidan attaches the bikes to the rack, and we leave. After we start to drive, Aidan asks, “Are you ready to go watch Malachi and Karis make the worst decision of their lives?”
“Aidan, seriously? Some people really do get happy endings.”
“Yeah, but only if they go to the massage parlors where they have a secret menu.”
This time, I don't hold back. I slug him right on his upper arm.
He groans, pretending like it hurt.
I give him a dirty look. “You're foul.”
He holds up one hand while the other is on the steering wheel. “Guilty as charged."
Crossing my arms, I turn to look at him as he drives. “Things didn't work out for me and Henry. Things did not work out for my parents. And your parents… Well, they have a very unique relationship. But that doesn't mean all relationships fail.”
“All the relationships you just listed looked good on the outside. And look how broken they were on the inside. What hope does anyone have if even the best-looking matches fail?”
“Honestly, Aidan? I don't know. All I know is that it's worth finding out.”
Aidan stares at me. His eyes are unfathomable, full of things he can't say, won't say, maybe even things he cannot begin to decipher.
* * *
We arein Diana's bathroom. It's monstrous, a long countertop with two sinks on one side, a large tile shower on the opposite side of the room, and in the center is an oversized, clawfoot tub. I came in here ahead of Aidan and prepared the space. Between one of the sinks and the tub is a stool, and I’ve laid a towel out on the edge of the tub. We stopped at the drugstore on the way home from our bike ride and picked up a pair of trimming shears. They lay on top of the towel, gleaming in the overhead light.
Aidan lowers himself onto the stool and stretches out his left leg. The palm of his right hand comes to rest on his right thigh.
“Just a trim,” I warn him, gesturing with the second item we purchased at the drugstore: a spray bottle. “Don't ask me for anything complicated.”
“Don't stress,” he says. He leans forward and shakes his head until all his hair is falling forward and almost covering his eyes. “It's more difficult to see mistakes with hair this long.”
“Unless I accidentally take off a chunk.” I'm only joking, but I pray that my words don't come true.
Aidan grabs the towel from the counter and drapes it around his shoulders. Pointing the water bottle at his head, I press the button and walk around him in a slow circle, my left hand scraping through his hair to separate it and make sure it's wet. When I'm satisfied, I run a comb through it the way I remember my father’s barber did to him. I hated going with him to those appointments, but right now I'm happy he made me go.
