Page 14 of Where We Fall

He takes my hand and leads me to the front desk.

"Hi, Lisa," he says enthusiastically.

At first, I think he knows everyone here by name, but I realize she's wearing a name tag.

She looks him up and down, not subtly might I add, then flutters her eyes and smiles.

"Hi. How can I help you today?" she says to him.

Ugh, gross. Part of me wants to wave my hands in the air and scream at her, "Ummm, what if he was my boyfriend…or husband? Have you no shame?"

Instead, I just stand here and watch her ogle him.

She looks like his type. Long blonde hair. A real live Barbie.

"We have a one o'clock appointment with Stacy," he tells her, not giving her any real attention.

He looks back at me and winks. I feel my cheeks blush and I touch them to see if they feel warm.

Crap! I think he noticed. He's smirking at me right now.

We are led to a chair in the back of the room. A petite redhead is smiling behind the chair as I approach.

"Hi, you must be Lexi. My name is Stacy." She motions for me to sit down. She looks at me through the mirror on the wall, Marcus standing off to the right with his arms crossed over his chest. "What are we going for today?"

Before I can panic, having no idea what to ask for, Marcus steps in.

"We have an event on Saturday. I figured you could take this already beautiful woman here and make herfeelbeautiful so she can walk in feeling confident. Nothing crazy or drastic. Just a little something to add to her natural look."

I want to punch him. I glare at him through the mirror. It was not necessary to lay it on so thick with comments of my "beauty."

"Oh, that'll be easy. I'll go mix up some colors. I'm gonna add some highlights to your hair. You have a nice dirty blonde color; some lighter highlights will make it pop and add some texture."

She walks away, leaving me with Marcus.

"I wasn't lying before," he says. "You're beautiful."

I'm starting to worry about how well he seems to read my thoughts.

"Just leave me alone. Go flirt with the front desk lady or something," I blurt out.

He laughs as he walks away. Ugh, he is a mixture of infuriating and sweet. The combination is confusing.

Two hours later, Stacy is blow-drying my hair after she cut in some layers. My ass hurts from sitting in this chair for so long, and even Stacy, who appears to be a chatterbox, is running out of things to talk about with me.

The blow dryer is giving us a break from forced conversation. I've never loved a blow dryer so damn much as I do at this moment.

Just when I think she's done, she pulls out a curling iron. I want to get a glimpse of how it looks, but she has me facing away from the mirror.

"Don't worry. We're almost done. It looks so good on you. Anna is waiting for you over in makeup," she says then gets to work with the curling iron.

I didn't realize that I was getting my makeup done. Although, that part I'm a little bit excited about. I've always been curious—thinking about all the colors of lipstick there are for me to explore.

I remember specifically watching my friend's mom always putting on a new shade of lipstick and wishing I was her.

Before I know it, Stacy places the iron back in its holder.

"Okay. I think you should wait to see the final product when your makeup is done," she squeals with excitement. "You look so gorgeous. Come on, follow me. No cheating and looking in a mirror on the way. Here, take my hand. Keep your head down, I'll lead you over there."

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