Page 79 of Overdue I Love You's
I’m silently weaving Katarina’s hair together when she exhales, “Has she talked about me?”
“Not in any positive way,” I tie the bottom of her short braid with a lilac ribbon. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but what happened?”
She’s not answering. I can respect that.
Then a small button clicks.
Katarina meets my eyes through our reflections and looks down at the mic clipped at my collar.
Oh.
I turn my mic off too.
“We broke up a month ago,” she says quickly but haughtily as if she’s expecting judgement. “I dumped her after she… she told me she loved me.”
Okaaayy,welcomelore dump.
But also? Iknewit! They had that back and forth, I hate you butalso lowkey-want-you-bad energy going on with them.
“So, both of you being here is a coincidence?” I’m adding the gemstones to her hair. Katarina shakes her head, “I came to win her back.”
“I’m sorry for being a bitch to you during the first week.” The little exhale she releases at the end tells me our previous conversation is over and this is weighing on her mind more.
“You were not—” She gives me a look in the mirror. “Okay, maybe slightly. But I grew up with two older sisters and let me tell you, no one is morebeachythan a sister on her period.”
“Beachy?” An amused glance. “Didn’t know swearing was off your vocab.”
Adding the final gemstone, “I don’t make a habit of it. Words that no one knows the meanings of are more my style.”
“I had a feeling,” she turns her head slightly to eye the finished work. “I know you think it’s selfish of me to not want her to move on, but we left a lot unexplained and I?—”
Girls like Katarina are often misunderstood. If she thinks that even for a minute I thought the worst of her, she’s wrong. “Your reasons are your reasons. I liked you from the minute I met you and whatever you’re here for, I hope it works out for the best.”
“You’re really not gonna make me explain?”
I shake my head. “I’ve learned to empathize without knowing the whole truth.” When I was younger, I’d been forced to understand everyone else’s feelings and situations before I got the chance to understand my own. I’m made up of people’s emotions that there’s no energy left for me.
Sometimes I think my frontal lobe is already developed.
“Thanks.” Katarina runs her fingers down the braid. “You’re good at this.”
Admiring my work, “Rosa—my sister—she used to be the hairstylist in the family before she took on a career digging through people’s hearts.”
Katarina’s eyes widen.
“She’s a cardiologist,” I clarify. “This and blowouts are the only hairstyles I can do.” Need anything else from me? Oops, there goes my talents. It does eventually end.
“Ever thought of making this a career other than your little editing job?”
“You mean my little flower job?” I joke while brushing the fallen strands of hair on my lap.
“Flower?” Confusion corners her tone.
I freeze. “Oh, no sorry. Slip of the mouth. My editing job, yes.” Picking the skin of my thumb, “I like it too much to let it go.”
The answer is satisfactory.
She turns her mic back on and I follow suit.
