Atticus by S. Bennett

Author:S. Bennett
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
ISBN: 9781947212046
Publisher: Big Dog Books
Published: 2018-05-30T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 28

Hazel

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Charmin asks hesitantly as she stands behind me in her bathroom. She’s slightly taller than I am, so she easily can see my reflection from the mirror over the sink.

Reaching up, I pull a long lock of hair away from my face and hold it out. About six inches of brown followed by another six inches of blonde. When I’d been with Darren, he’d preferred me as a blonde and so… I was a blonde.

When he kicked me out, there was no room for the luxury of hair lightening products. Not even the cheap bleaches, and besides… I really didn’t care what I looked like for a long period of time. The past six months, I’ve worn my hair in a ponytail, often doubled under so not much of the brittle blonde showed.

I examine the box of color I’d picked up at the drug store. Charmin helped me, and I think we picked one as close to my natural color as possible.

Atticus is laying in the hallway in his froggy position with his head resting on his front paws. He watches us with interest, wondering if perhaps there’s a treat in the box I’m holding.

“You know women pay a lot of money for this look,” Charmin says as she eyeballs my reflection critically. “They call it ombre.”

I snort. “It looks ghetto.”

Charmin gives me a cocked eyebrow. “Are you doing this for Darren?”

Pivoting to face her so fast my hair swings out and slaps her in the face, I assure her, “Absolutely not.”

“That’s an awful big protest your lodging,” she teases.

I shove the box into her chest, and she grabs it while snickering at me.

I glare. “Just shut up and color my hair. And besides… Darren liked me blonde.”

Charmin takes me into the kitchen, making me sit me down at the table as the bathroom is too tight and confined. Atticus flops down over near the window air conditioner, now dubiously regarding the bottle of formula Charmin’s putting in my hair. He gave it a sniff when she opened it, sneezed six times, and then staked a position away from the nasty-smelling stuff.

“What’s going on with Darren?” Charmin asks as she works the locks of my hair, using gloved hands to protect herself and a towel around my shoulders for the same. “Are you going to go out with him?”

“I don’t know. He’s been awful persistent, that’s for sure.”

Since our meeting for coffee just two weeks ago, he’s sent me flowers four times and has texted me nonstop, always in the morning to say he hopes I have a wonderful day. The cards with the flowers have been benign and not overtly pressuring. Things like “Because you deserve these,” and “Hope these brighten your day.”

He texts me random questions, trying to learn more about the new Hazel. I want to ignore it all, but it’s hard to.

Darren is trying to court me, something he never had to do before. We fell into lust, then love, much of our early relationship fueled by booze and pot.

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