Page 59 of Falling for my Best Friend

She shrugged, never taking her eyes off my head. “There aren’t as many dirty secrets as I’d like. Most people just want the luxury of ranting to someone who’s outside their life cause it’s safe and there’s no judgment.”

“Really? No judgment? Ever?”

“Well, not to their face,” she said. “That wouldn’t be professional.”

“You must love it though. You wouldn’t go out of your way to touch stranger’s heads unless you did.”

She laughed. “I don’t really think about it that way.”

“How do you think about it?”

“I think about it as making people feel good. Like I get to fit them with the only accessory that they’re going to wear every day. If I do a good job, it makes people happy and it boosts their confidence.” She worked her way around to the side of my head. “I’m not a miracle worker or anything. I can't fix people’s biggest problems or make the world a safer place, but even on a bad day, I can usually make at least one person feel a little better.”

“And who knows how far that good feeling will stretch.”

“Oh good,” she said. “I thought I was rambling there, but you get it. I mean, I know there are people with more important jobs, but I get a lot of satisfaction from doing this.”

“I think that’s great, Luce. I admire you for following your passion. I think too many people let others beat their dreams out of them.”

“I try not to make time for people like that,” she said. “Plus, in my experience, the people that most resent other people’s dreams are usually those that have strayed furthest from their own.”

She was a wise little firecracker, my friend Lucy. I don’t know why, but hearing her speak so self-assuredly about her life’s direction really inspired me. It made me want to spend more time with people like her.

Then again, maybe she was one of a kind.

She walked in front of me and put the scissors on the counter. Then she turned towards me, grabbed a piece of hair on each side, and pulled them down.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Just making sure the sides are even,” she said, grabbing another two pieces.

And then I shamelessly looked down her shirt again.

She sprang up instantly and looked at me. “Did you just look down my shirt?”

I couldn’t tell if she was mad. “There was nowhere else to look.”

She shook her head. “You could’ve closed your eyes or something.”

“But then I wouldn’t have gotten to see your black bra.”

Her mouth fell open and her eyes went wide. “Shame on you, Aiden Briggs. Looking down my shirt is not part of the full experience.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I won’t do it again.”

“Good.”

“Why would I when all I have to do is close my eyes and-”

She smacked me in the arm. “Don’t you dare.”

I laughed. “Oh my god. I’ve never seen your face so red.”

She glared at me and walked back behind the chair before bending down carefully and pulling the hair dryer out of its cubby.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” I said.

She cocked her head and looked at me through the mirror. “I know I don’t,” she said, lifting the hair dryer over my head. “You’re the one that should be embarrassed.”

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