He smirks, catching the small movement, but chooses not to call me out on it. “Don’t kill yourself trying to outrun whatever is chasing you.”
I give a half-laugh and peel off my remaining glove. “If I figure out what it is, I’ll let you know.”
We get changed and pack up after. My brother offers to carry my gear to the truck, and I let him. Only because my legs shakefrom exhaustion, signaling I truly overdid it.Damn it. Max was right, but I won’t tell him that.
The drive back to Queens takes under an hour when traffic is low. Today, the roads are kind to me, and I use the time to let the best of my emo playlist settle my mind.
Still, I can’t stop thinking about Teddy. His tone was cold and defensive yesterday, nothing like it normally is with me. I understand what he’s going through, but the snappy way he spoke to me was uncalled for. Good thing I’m not working until the day after tomorrow.
The familiar streets of the neighborhood I grew up in bring a smile to my face. I roll down the windows an inch, letting the cold air slap me fully awake as I park in front of the salon where my mom works.
Running with Scissors is a small business, yet loud in personality, reminding me of my mom and her best friend, who owns the place. The bell jingles overhead when I walk in, my hair in a messy knot. Mom will complain seeing it, but I couldn’t be bothered after showering at the practice arena.
“I was wondering when you’d make time for your roots,” Mom calls from behind her client, as if I didn’t set an appointment last week. “There’s some brown poking through.”
“Scandalous,” I reply with a grin.
She gestures toward the empty chair beside her station. “Give me ten.”
Plopping down, I ignore the ache building in my calves and right knee where I have an old injury. Mom’s client, Mrs.Gonzales, who must be pushing ninety, is going on about her great-grandson’s Christmas performance and the horrors of their costumes. Her voice is animated, her wrinkled hands fluttering to punctuate each point. She insists that modern parents should learn to sew the way people did back in the day.
Eventually, she settles her bill and bundles up to leave, promising to drop off our favorite peppermint chocolate cookies for Christmas next week.
Mom turns to me when the door closes, arching one perfectly penciled brow. “Spill it.”
“Spill what?” I rapidly blink my eyes, acting like I’m clueless.
“That look on your face. You’re wearing stress like it’s designer. What’s going on?”
“Can’t a girl come in for a root touch-up without a third-degree interrogation?”
She snorts and pats the empty chair next to me. “Not when she’s my daughter. Now, get over here.”
I obey, knowing resistance is futile. My Italian American mother, Antonella “Nella” Campbell née Russo, never gives up. She’ll dig until she gets the answers she wants. She should’ve been an archeologist instead of a hairdresser.
Once the cape is clipped around my neck and her gloves are snapped on, she gets to work with a brush and a bowl. Staring at my reflection, I watch as she bleaches my roots.
“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart,” Mom says, her eyes narrowing in that way that tells me she already knows I’m holding back.
“It’s really nothing.” I wave a hand like I can swat the thought away. “Iswear.”
She makes a noise of disbelief. “Try again.”
My gaze drops to my lap, fingers worrying at the edge of the cape. “Um, there’s a patient I can’t stop thinking about.”
I want to keep things vague, but the truth is, Teddy has been living in my head rent-free since the night we officially met.
“Is it a long-term case?”
“He’s at least temporarily blind after an injury. It’s shaken him up more than he wants to admit.”
She sets down the bowl and meets my eyes directly. “That sounds terrifying for him.”
“He doesn’t show it much, but yeah.”
"It can be hard for him to let you in, Ivy." She brushes her fingers gently through my roots, searching for any missed spots. “Does he treat you with the respect you deserve?”
I wince at the question. “He did for the first few days, then he lost it a little yesterday. It was awful, Mom. I felt so small at his words.”
