Page 163 of The Pucking Wrong Rookie

Ari: Of course it did, Disney. Because you’re a simpy pawn. It’s definitely what a simpy pawn would say.

Camden: I mean, I’m definitely not a “simpy pawn” unless that means certified badass. But…Lincoln does kind of act like Batman.

Me: It’s true. He always knows things. And he knows people. Very Batman-like.

Ari: Let me let you all in on a secret. He learned everything he does from me.

Lincoln: …

Lincoln: That’s an outrage for you to even say that about Batman.

Ari Lancaster removed Lincoln Daniels from the chat.

I grinned as I added Lincoln back in.

* * *

SLOANE

This was the first time I’d ever been excited about going to a hair appointment—the first time I’d felt buzzed with energy and possibility. The scent of hairspray and shampoo lingered in the air, mixed with the faint aroma of coffee brewing somewhere in the back. The hum of hairdryers and the low murmur of conversation created a kind of white noise that wrapped around me, settling my nerves and, at the same time, lighting them up.

This was it. I was finally doing it.

The hairdresser, a woman in her late thirties with vibrant pink curls that looked like they belonged in a music video, met me with a friendly smile. “Hi, I’m Melanie,” she said, leading me toward a station near the back of the salon. She had this effortless cool vibe that made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I could pull this off.

I sat down in the chair, staring at my reflection in the large mirror. It was just me, as I’d always been. My safe, brunette hair, no crazy colors, nothing wild or bold. It was safe. Pleasing.

Exactly what Everett had wanted.

Melanie looked at me in the mirror, comb in hand, ready to start. “So, what are we doing today?”

I didn’t even pause. The words flew out of my mouth before I could second-guess myself. “I want to dye it lavender.”

For a second, her hands stilled, the comb hovering in midair. She blinked at me, her surprise barely hidden behind her professional smile. “Lavender? That’s a bold choice.”

I grinned. “Yeah. But I think I’m ready for something bold.”

She raised an eyebrow, studying me for a moment, then smiled. “You’ve got the features to pull that off. I think it’ll look amazing on you.”

I appreciated her validation, but it really didn’t matter. I didn’t care if I looked amazing or if lavender hair was the “right” choice. This was about so much more than just hair color. It was about the freedom to choose, to do something just because Iwantedto. No one was making this decision for me. I wasn’t doing it for anyone else. This was for me—and that was thrilling.

“Let’s do it,” I said, my heart beating a little faster as the words left my mouth.

Melanie nodded, her smile widening as she walked away to grab the bleach and dye necessary to change my dark hair. “You got it.”

* * *

Melanie began applying the color, and I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the sensation of the brush running through my hair. Each stroke felt like shedding a layer of the past, like I was finally breaking free of the invisible chains that had held me down for so long.

“So, what made you decide to go lavender?” Melanie asked casually as she worked.

I shrugged, though the real answer was complicated. “I guess I just wanted a change. Something different.”

She smiled, nodding as though she understood more than I was letting on. “Lavender is definitely different. But in a good way. You’ll turn heads for sure.”

I smiled and let the process happen, letting the minutes tick by as she carefully worked the dye into my hair. I was nervous, sure, but more than that, I felt excited. I’d never been this excited about something so simple.

When the timer went off, signaling the end of the process, Melanie led me over to the sink to wash out the dye. The warm water ran over my scalp, and I closed my eyes again, feeling the last remnants of my old self wash away.

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