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Rich people: Are you looking for the hot new trick to take your business to the next level? Do you want to one-up your competition? Then why not try ANCIENT PAGAN RITUALS?! Suitable for all ages, especially schoolkids. Does not include willing volunteer. Side effects could involve suicidal trauma and thinking in advertisements.
But the knowledge I have makes me very, very desirable to a lot of people at this school — and their parents.
“I’m just saying,” Freya murmurs. Her eyes draw up to my black beanie. “I’m not good at much but I could fix your hair? We could do, like, a swapsies?”
Her expression is so hopeful that my heart softens a little.
I’m being mean.
Probably.
Maybe.
I don’t know.
It’s for this reason and this reason alone that I slowly agree, “Okay.” I decide to cut a deal with her. Another deal. I’m getting good at this. It’s how these people function day-to-day. “You style my hair into something that doesn’t make me want to shave the whole thing off, and I’ll tell you — and only you — everything I saw in the forest.”
I’m not stupid.
Freya’s still Arabella’s pet. She’s still the dope involved in Operation Strike First.
But honestly, Freya doesn’t seem like the brightest bulb.
And maybe I’m wrong to dangle promises in front of her like the carrot she’d probably enjoy munching on.
But I wasn’t lying before. Idon’tcare. It’s as though my inhibitions have vanished, a cloak cast aside, a switch turned on. I’ve been through the forest and survived to tell — or not tell — the tale. Right now, nothing else matters.
When Freya enters my room that night, there’s an intimidatingly large collection of hairdressing products in her arms.
I almost change my mind there and then.
She’s carrying a sharp pair of scissors, a large gilt mirror, and at least three bottles of conditioner. Her hands are equipped with brushes and combs of various sizes. She dumps the assortment onto my bed with a happy sigh.
“No offense, Jessa, but I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now. Your hair was sosad.”
I grit my teeth together, concentrating on the payoff at the end. If there’s anything I trust Freya to do, it’s stupid beauty crap.
It doesn’t take her long to get down to business. Freya tells me to rinse my hair with water. I do it quickly in the sink. As I wring my hair out, she makes me sit on a chair. She positions the mirror in front of me and tilts my head from side to side until she finds an ideal angle.
And then she places the scissors to my throat and barks, “Now what the hell did you see in the forest, bitch?”
