“Shit.” I wiped my face with my hands. “Maybe a little.”
“Try having cancer.” His eyes narrowed. “Now stop being a bitch and sit down.”
I shook my head. “Being healthy’s changed you.”
“No.” Wes gave me a sad smile. “Almost losing my best friend — that changed me.”
“Wes—”
“I know you’re sorry.” He cleared his throat. “But if you ever go to that dark place again, I’m following you and I can be annoying as hell. I think we both know that. So, sit down while I cut your hair. We’re doing this together.”
Giving in, I nodded. “Thanks, Wes. For… everything.” Because he’d stayed up for twelve hours — missing sleep, missing food, missing everything — to help me come up with a plan.
He’d said he owed me.
But in the end, I think I’d always owe him for everything he did, for everything he’d done, for everything he was still doing by just being Wes. Freaking. Michels.
Shit. I would not cry.
As pieces of hair fell in front of me, and the sound of snipping clamored in my ears, I felt the weight lifted. I stopped slumping. Instead of leaning forward, I sat up. Instead of feeling emptier and more horrified…
I felt… invigorated.
I was able to smile — because the pieces of hair on the floor weren’t black. They were golden blond.
When Wes was finished he handed me a mirror and slapped me on the back. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Ashton Hyde, nice to meet you.”
Chapter Forty
He was just a man. Just a very, very, very attractive and popular man. And I had kissed him. A lot. Funny, when I was sixteen I imagined what it would be like to kiss Ashton Hyde. Never in my lifetime did I think it would actually happen — or feel so right. —Saylor
Saylor
The sweet smell of my mom’s pancakes woke me from my fitful sleep. When I opened my eyes, the clock on the bedside table confirmed that I’d totally slept in. Grumbling, I rolled over and threw on a pair of ripped jeans and a white t-shirt. After eating my body weight in pancakes, I left her apartment and drove, as slow as humanly possible to the Home.
It was one of my Friday afternoons and as much as I didn’t want to face Gabe, I knew my mom was right. Besides, no way could I abandon everyone.
As luck would have it — no traffic.
Of course.
I don’t know what I expected when I pulled up to the Home, but everything seemed normal. As if a movie/pop star hadn’t just come out of hiding last night, as if Gabe and I were still friends.
As I got out of my car, I shivered. The air was thick with mist. The two security guards nodded at me and let me through.
Martha was at the front desk, a smile on her face. “Ah Saylor, how are you today?”
“Good.” I’d be lying if I said my eyes weren’t darting all over the place, looking for traces of Gabe.
“He’s already inside,” Martha answered, pulling my cell phone from my clenched hand. “And he’s waiting for you.”
I cleared my throat and suddenly found great interest in staring at the countertop. “Who?”
She laughed.
Was I that transparent?
Sighing, I walked, again, as slow as my legs would allow me while still moving, and opened the doors to the game room.