Page 34 of King

He eyes her shoes. “And you can’t be wearing last season’s bargain finds.” Nate gives her a side-eye. “Seems like there’s an exception for everything.” She scoffs, leaving before Nate plunges my head under the sink.

“I can’t believe her!” Allie’s voice sounds warbly under the stream of rushing water. “How bad is it?”

Nate sighs, "We'll find out."

He scrubs at my hair while the cool water calms my scalp, and my nerves. When he pulls me back up, I have to remember to breathe.

Allie’s in the mirror behind me, her eyes wide. “Fuck.”

“At least I got it all out.” Nate's face isn't reassuring.

Large patches of hair are missing from the right side of my head, where the yogurt concoction landed. Moving my hand to touch it, I can feel the cold of my fingertips on my scalp. My hand starts to shake as I move my head in the light, smell still pungent. No matter the angle, it doesn’t look any better.

Nate and Allie wait for me to say something but all I can do is stare at the damage. Moving in closer, I zero in on the circles of light brown skin, jaw clenching.

If my mom were alive, the state of my "lion's mane" would be devastating. But she'd also tell me not to give in. Or give up.

My eyes shift to an electrical plug at the side of the counter before I turn to Nate. “Do you have clippers here?”

His hands go to the side and top of his hair. “How do you think I keep this cut fresh?”

Looking back in the mirror I nod, pushing the words out, “Shave it.”

He pauses, blinking before he tilts my head to the side, fingers under my chin. Then he smiles, “Yeah? I mean your look is edgy enough to pull it off."

Allie comes closer, nodding. “Nate’s right. You’ll look like a badass bitch.”

“Let’s do it.” With their reassurance, I’m feeling more confident by the second.

“Are you sure?” Nate asks. “I can grab them right now.”

I nod, refusing to let this ruin me. “Positive.”

Making it to class way after the second bell, I find Damien sitting in a different seat than the one he fought me for. In the back row, on the opposite end. Seeing him at a desk is comedic, the way his long legs jut out like a giant.

My boots thud pass him but he doesn’t budge, a copy of the assigned reading glued to his face. The Catcher in the Rye. Rolling my eyes, I toss my bag beside my desk before dropping into my seat.

Clink!

Looking down, a screw rolls away before the entire chair collapses bringing my ass to the ground. The class erupts in laughter and my eyes dart to Damien, he’s not even looking my way and it only makes me angrier. “Really? This the best you got?”

Christian enters, his eyes dropping to me. He looks confused seeing me on the ground before he picks up his pace, heading in my direction, “Jesus.” He helps me up by the elbow, holding out a hand and I grab it. It’s warm, his skin soft, and with one quick pull, I’m on my feet.

“Thanks.” I brush off my kilt while Christian gives me the chair from his desk. I look over at Damien and still, he hasn’t budged. “At least someone here has a heart.”

Before Christian can ask, a boy gets up to offer Christian his chair which he takes and I shake my head. But his charming smile and help are enough to make me forgive the asshole behaviour. “Nice hair.” He winks, before sliding into his seat.

While I didn’t get a reaction from Damien, Christian sure did as Damien gives him a glare that could kill.

Making it through English without any more disruptions is a small victory. But once I’m in Algebra with Lea, she doesn’t let up.

She throws embarrassing comments my way all class, backed up by giggles and laughter.

As for Mr. Trout, he doesn’t flinch. Nope, he lets Lea run her mouth no matter how nasty her words are. If I retaliate, he gives me a warning. I’m grateful Allie’s in this class because if it wasn’t for her having my back, I don’t know if I could keep my cool.

After listening to Lea’s whiny voice for over an hour the lunch bell is relieving, even without an appetite. As we’re filing out the door, Mr. Trout asks to speak to Lea. I’m hoping it's some sort of disciplinary action for her outbursts.

“God, she’s the worst!” Allie screams at the ceiling as we walk to her locker. “She's just jealous that you look better with a half-shaved head than her with her stupid fucking headbands.”

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