Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“I’m Kaylee.” She seems friendly enough, and it would be nice to have people to talk to besides men. Up until this mess started, I spent most of my days almost exclusively around women and I kind of miss it.
She cocks her head. “I know who you are. Everyone was talking about you for days. There was a rumor that it was your fault Eagle-eye's in the slammer, but I guess since you’re sitting out here and not locked in the pit, that’s probably not true.”
“The pit?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t really know. I’ve only heard them say it and it doesn’t sound good.” Her eyes cut to the table where Nitro, Wraith and Tank are sitting. “Are you with them now?”
That’s a very good question, and I’m not really sure what the answer is, but I’m not about to tell this child anything that makes her think she can go sit on one of their laps. Or maybe she has already? I really don’t like that idea. “Yeah. They’re mine.”
She giggles. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m new. No way am I going to chance pissing someone off by trying to poach their man. I’m Lace.”
“Nice to meet you, Lace.” I reach out and touch the ends of her hair. “Did you do this yourself?”
Her nose wrinkles. “Yeah. It didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to, though.”
“I could help you fix it, maybe.”
“You think?” Her face lights up. “We’ve got a lot of random supplies in the locker room. Do you do your own hair? It’s really pretty.”
“Yeah, I did, but like, right now? I mean… I guess I can go see what you have.”
Lace takes my hand and pulls me towards the back of the room, suddenly eager.
“Where you going?” Tank shouts.
“She’s going to help me with my hair!” Lace shouts back.
The locker room is exactly that. It’s not fancy, but it’s clearly a feminine space in a fortress of testosterone. There are already a few girls hanging out towards the back where someone set up patched lounge chairs, including Kaia, the girl Deuce was bothering.
The showers have pretty curtains, and there are baskets full of things like tampons, condoms and even… disposable underwear? I didn’t even know that was a thing, but I guess in a place like this it might come in handy. Under one of the sinks is a big bin that Lace goes straight to.
“Don’t do it,” says a curvy girl with tight red curls as she points at Kaia. “I know you think they’re going to be cute, but trust me, baby bangs are never a good idea.” She looks up when she notices us. “Tell her, Lace.”
Lace chews her lip. “They could be cute?”
“If you really want to try it, order a cheap clip-in piece and style that,” I suggest. “Even if it isn’t a perfect match you can see if you like it before committing to growing your own hair back for forever. Baby bangs are rough.”
The redhead frowns. “Who made you an expert?”
“Um, the State Board of Cosmetology? And I work in a salon.”
Lace comes to my support. “See? She's cool, Indie. She’s going to try to fix my hair.”
“You’re seriously a hairdresser?” Kaia asks. “From the way everyone was talking about you, I thought you were some big important person. Like a lawyer or something.”
“Nope. And I’m not even a full stylist. I mean I could be, I have my license, but I don’t have my own chair yet.”
“You seriously know how to do hair?”
I feel more like the new girl at school than a badass, but I nod eagerly. “Yeah, seriously. If you want a change, I could do curtain bangs. It’s way less drastic and much easier to grow out. I think it would be pretty on you, too.”
“You think?”
“Yeah, but what do I know? I just do this for a living.”
Kaia laughs. “Fine. Show me what you got when you’re done with Lace.”
Hanging out with the club girls ends up being the most fun I’ve had since I was in school. There’s no bonding like beauty bonding. I don’t care how much someone is into makeup or hair, everyone wants to look nice, and trusting someone else to help means revealing your insecurities.
I find a half empty bottle of toner in the hair bin and get Lace set up. Then while that’s cooking, I wash Kaia’s hair and trim the ends. The girls all gather around as I explain how to section off her hair for bangs.
We chat as I work, everyone telling stories about their worst haircuts and dye jobs. I admit to the time I was a teenager and didn’t have the patience to do things right and ended up with a gross, washed out copper green color instead of the deep blue I was aiming for.