Page 102 of Why Cruise

There was a flurry of activity. They weren’t ready for us yet. Justice sat us down in front of two nail tech stations. This was more familiar territory.

He held his hands out to me. “I’ve never had a manicure before. Should I do pink?”

“Pink is gross,” I said absently, and then focused on his hands. “Oh Justice, your cuticles are terrible.”

But it wasn’t just his cuticles. I pulled his hands closer. His nails were short, split, and cracked in places. Tiny white scars, old and faded, fanned out across every knuckle. There was a divot growing out on the nail plate of his middle finger, an obvious mark of nail bed trauma. I turned his hands over. His skin was smooth but very dry, with thick calluses on the pads of his fingers.

“Rock climbing is hard on the hands.”

The nail tech sat down and started arranging her tools. I scooted a little closer.

“Could we not cut his cuticles?” I asked. “He rock climbs, so we want to protect the nail bed as much as possible.” She inspected his nails again and nodded. “You wouldn’t happen to have straight-up jojoba oil, would you? Maybe vitamin E? If we soften them, it’ll be easier to push them back.”

She rummaged in her drawer and pulled out a little dropper bottle and massaged the oil into Justice’s fingers. I scooted even closer, looking over her product lineup.

“Could we skip Ohaiyo’s Hands Up cream?” I asked, pointing at the bottle. “It has alpha hydroxy acid in it. We don’t want to dissolve his calluses. He needs them.” The nail tech flashed a glance at me. “Maybe something like EverCare’s ceramides formula?” I asked. “Something to repair the skin barrier but not soften his hands too much.”

“Huh,” she said, surprised. “That’s actually a really great idea.” She dug through one of the drawers in her workstation and came up with a pink and yellow bottle.

Justice made a surprised noise, and I looked up at him. “I thought manicures were nail polish and acetone.”

I gave him a look. “You’re just a special case. Justice Twill, you’re a mess.” I looked down at my own manicure. I had a chip in a nail from the ATV ride. “You really don’t take good care of yourself, do you?”

He made a soft sound and his voice became rough. “No, I don’t.”

I picked at the chip in my nail. They were medium almond-shaped and ballerina pink. Daryl’s favorite. Suddenly, my heart started beating wildly.They were Daryl’s favorite.

“Have some class and stop chewing on your nails like a toddler.”

I got acrylic tips the next day, and now builder gel.

I shoved my hands at the tech. “Take them off. Right now.”

She reared back. “You want to do a soak-off?”

“No, it takes too long. Just cut them off. Just cut them off right now. All of them. Short ovals.”

She traded a look with Justice.

I grabbed the tip of a nail and tried pulling, and then I bit at it, put it in my mouth, used my teeth to try to pry it off.

“Cut them,” I said again. Justice gently put my hands on the table.

“I’ll have to drill them down to rebalance the apex.”

“Now,” I said, leaning across our table.

“I can’t work from this angle,” she said.

Justice slid over and propped his leg up on the bench, pulling me in between his legs. He sat at a right angle to me, his leg right behind me, pressing into my back. “Can you manage?” He asked the tech who nodded.

My hands were shaking. I’d never wanted nails. Daryl wanted them.

“So what the fuck is a skin barrier?” Justice asked.

“What?”

“Little-known Justice Twill fact: I failed biology. The only thing I know about skin is that it’s the largest organ.”

---