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“You don’t want to look like her.”
“I don’t want toseeher. Not like this. Now that I’ve turned into everything she hated, I…”
“Come here.”
He pulled me to him, but I said, “No. I’m fine—”
“You’re not.”
Theo was strong, and if I actually resisted, he’d let go, back off, stand in stone and allow me the time to get myself together. But…
Oh, but…
I didn’t want to.
I fell into him, his blazer cloaking over me, my nakedness so exposed yet protected. I sighed into his neck, allowing the tears to come.
Theo rocked us on the ground, easy, massaging the tightness, combing back my hair, kissing the top of my head, and while the steam escaped, the heat didn’t.
My grip turned into a clutch on his arms, and I burrowed deeper, uncaring if I ugly cried. In a sudden, brutalyank,I missed my sister desperately. Needed, wanted her here, or where we would’ve been, back in Westchester or in Manhattan, college roomies, sibling rivals, loving friends. She’d work in theater, would’ve gotten a job manning backstage at a Broadway musical, readying for the chance at her big break. I’d be enrolled in engineering, or biochemistry, destined for a science background, the way I was able to move numbers and probabilities around in my head by the age of seven. She’d be here,I’dbe there for her, the way I’d never been when she was alive. Too into my books, studying, ostracized from making any friends and dismissing my sister’s friendship.
I failed. Had the chance at a full life with her and I blew it.
The stubble of Theo’s cheek scraped against my temple. If I could evaporate into his scent, I would. I could become the air, forget…
You’re going to fail him, too. Betray him.
“I can do it,” I said.
“What?” Theo tipped me back to hear better.
“The … I can change my hair color to brunette.”
“We can get you a different color. Black maybe. Hell, pink, if it would stop making you feel so limp in my arms. I won’t do this to you, Scarlet.”
“There’s no time.” I forced my voice to be stronger. “We’ve already … how long have I been in here?”
Theo hesitated. “Something close to forty-five minutes.”
“Jesus. We really have no time. Okay.” I inhaled and loosened from his hold, though I wished I could stay. “Just give me, like, twenty minutes. Or thirty.” I calculated the time to use the hair dryer. “Forty. An hour.”
“You think I’m leaving you?” Theo uncoiled from his crouch. If comforting me on the ground brought him any stiffness, he didn’t reveal the pain.
“You want to stay?” I asked. “While I…?”
He picked up the box. “I want to help.”
Theo set the box on the counter and pulled out a plush stool that had been hidden under the vanity. He then reached around me, his mouth dangerously close again, and pulled a towel off the rack.
Gently, he wrapped it across my torso, stroking under my chin for a moment, our eyes locking, before he broke the contact and led me to the stool.
“Sit.”
I sank, reuniting our gazes in the mirror. Theo lifted the hair off my shoulders, smoothing it back. Tingles hit my collarbone as his fingers played their notes. My spine felt him next, his touch grazing across my skin, before he leaned over and became nothing but scrutiny as he read the directions.
“First time coloring a lady’s hair?” I tried to joke.
His focus didn’t stray. “I need to wear gloves? Chemicals that can burn through skin? What the fuck are people putting into their hair?”
