“Now, come on. We’ve got plans!”
Sawyer decided a girls’ day was better than jogging. I wasn’t going to complain, but shopping and being around other people still wasn’t really on my to-do list. I was just getting used to the idea of pushing myself to actually do more than letting my brain focus on everything I couldn’t change.
“No way,” I huffed as Sawyer stopped in front of a salon not far from the apartment. “There is no way I’ll go in there.”
“Come on, chica!” she said, her voice lowering. “I know how you see yourself; I’ve been there. You need a makeover. Or at least a haircut. You don’t have to have more than a few inches cut off. But have you ever gotten a trim?”
I shook my head.
“See? Believe me, this will make you feel more human. We’re here early, so it’s not like its crowded in there. And, if it helps, it’s Miles’ mom, Shay, who runs this one.”
I closed my eyes, hoping for strength. Sure, I was healing in ways I didn’t know I could, but this was pushing it.
“You haven’t panicked once with Sean. You can do this, Scarlett.”
“But—“
“No buts. You got this.”
With one last breath, I let my shoulders drop. She was right, even if I didn’t want to admit it.
“Plus, think of how Dominic will react.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.
“Your self-esteem has been hit big time, hasn’t it? Can’t you tell he loves you?”
“Uh…” No. He couldn’t feel that way about me. I’d only drag him down; he deserved so much more than me and my issues.
“You’ll get it,” she smiled tightly. “That’s not something to focus on right now. So let’s go.”
After dragging me into the salon, Miles’ mom gushed over meeting me. She was thrilled that her son was making a few friends. She was a skinny, small lady, but full of life. Her hair was in a messy bun atop her head, her face round and looking a lot like Miles’.
“Okay, so what are we going to do today?”
“She needs a trim,” Sawyer said with a nod my way. “Just get the dead stuff off. Today’s all about her.”
“Can do!” she said with a smile. “When was the last time you had a haircut?”
“Never,” I said, looking around the salon. Three chairs were set up around the room in front of huge mirrors and shelves underneath. A few chairs sat in front of the windows like a waiting area. A stack of magazines was in a pile on a small coffee table. The colors were welcoming and warm.
“Okay,” she said. “Is there a certain length you refuse to have your hair cut to? It’s pretty long, but if you’ve never had a trim, a lot of the ends will be split and need a good cut.”
“Not too short,” I said. The only thing I liked about myself was my long hair.
“Not a problem. Hop on that chair over there,” she pointed to the closest one, “and I’ll see what we can do about it.”
“Kay,” I said, doing as she said.
Once in the chair, my body was stiff. I kept my breathing even, hoping to keep the panic at bay.
I could do this.
Moments later, Shay stood behind me and slowly brushed out my hair. She took her time and talked about how much her son adored me and how he’d shown more life the past few weeks than he had in years.
“Okay, so what if I cut it to about here,” she said, pressing her fingers to the middle of my lower back. “I’d be taking off about four inches.”
“I…”
