by C. L. Stone
The water warmed, and I settled in more, shutting off the faucet. I was rinsing away the last of the soap from my back and chest when there was a knock. The air shifted around me like the door opened.
“Oy, Trouble,” Gabriel called.
My spine tingled from my butt to my neck. I shifted to draw my knees up to my chest, and wrapped my arms around my body. I didn’t dare turn around and look at him. I hadn’t drawn the curtain. Could he see me? “Gabriel?”
“Did you wash your hair yet?”
Of all things! “No.”
“Don’t. I’ll wash it. I’ve got something for it.”
“Ga...”
“After you put a towel on. Sheesh.” The sound of the door closing caused another tingle to sweep up through me. I peered over my shoulder, but I was alone again. Didn’t I lock the door?
I was finished with the bath, but I remained for a moment to make sure Gabriel wouldn’t pop his head back in. Did he even do that or did he open the door and call in?
I hopped out quickly, dripping over the blue carpet. I opened the closet door and dug out a plush green towel, big enough that I could wrap myself up. Was I really going to open the door with just a towel wrapped around myself? Gabriel said I needed to trust him, right? Maybe this was part of what I needed to do to become closer to this strange family.
I stepped behind the door to use as a barrier and opened it slightly. “Gabriel?”
Gabriel stepped through, with two white unmarked plastic bottles in his hands. There were heavy shadows under his eyes. His hair was wet and combed back. He was wearing a neon orange tank top and Levi’s jeans, barefoot. Deep blue crystals sparkled in his lobes, along with the usual three black rings.
His eyes did a sweep across me in the green towel and his cheeks tinted. “Oh.”
“You said...” I started. Was he just kidding me? How was I supposed to know? “Do you want me to wash...”
He rolled his eyes. “Shut the fuck up. I’ll do it.” He jerked his head toward the sink. “Get your head in there, Trouble. We’ve got work to do.”
“I don’t want to model today,” I said, stepping over to the sink. It’d been a long day yesterday, a long night, and it was already a crazy morning. The last thing I wanted to do was parade in front of the others.
“No. I’m going to cut your hair. I didn’t have time to do that yesterday.” He dropped the bottles onto the counter and turned the sink faucet on, testing with his fingers to find the right temperature. His eyes were barely open slits as he leaned his body against the sink.
“Do you have to do it today?” I asked. “You look sleepy.”
“I’m fine,” he said, his eyes on the water.
“Are you really?”
His crystal eyes flashed and settled on my face, puzzled. His smirk shifted and he patted me on the hip. “Come on. I can cut your fucking hair.”
I swallowed, moving to bend over and let the water run over my head, mostly to please him. Maybe if I let him cut my hair, he could take a nap and relax.
Gabriel remained quiet as he cupped his hand to change the flow to wet my hair. He pulled back to open one of the bottles he brought in. A dollop chilled a spot on my head, the coolness sending another shiver through my spine. I adjusted the towel against my body.
The smell of the shampoo hit my nose. Acidic, a pang of metallic odor. I held my breath, wondering if it would go away. When I breathed in again, the scent lingered strongly in my nose.
“Gabriel...”
His fingers lathered the shampoo into my hair, massaging against my scalp. “What?”
“It smells.”
“It’s a special formula. Just let it work.”
I swallowed, trying to hold my breath. The scent accosted my nose and mouth every time I breathed in. It was like the air was dripping with fermented fish and pennies.
He rinsed my hair, applied conditioner and had me back my head out of the water so he could work it in. The conditioner was worse than the shampoo, and I moved a hand from the towel to clutch my palm around my nose.
“It’s not that bad,” Gabriel insisted.
Was his nose broken? “Will it stick to my hair?”
“Will you stop worrying? Fucking shit, let me do my job, please?” He pushed my head into the water again.
He was getting the last of the conditioner rinsed out of the ends of my hair when a knock sounded at the bathroom door.
“Gabe,” someone called from Kota’s bedroom.
“What?” Gabriel called back.
The door rattled and North’s head poked in, his hair messy and dripping water onto his cheeks. His eyes fell on me in the towel then shifted to Gabriel half bent over me with his fingers in my hair, and back to me in the towel.
“Oh hell no,” he boomed. The door crashed against the bathroom wall. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, one hand clutched at his hip to hold it in place.
“Get out,” Gabriel barked at him. “I’m washing her hair.”
“You’re not fucking washing her hair.”
“Fuck you. I’m already done.” He snapped the faucets off and stepped toward North, blocking me as I stood up fully.
I trembled, and my hair dripped around my bare shoulders. Not now! I didn’t want any more fighting.
“What are you doing barging in?” Gabriel yelled.
“I thought it was you in here, and I came in to grab a razor. And now you’ve got Sang naked and you’re fucking with her.”
“I washed her god damn hair,” Gabriel said. “And now I’m about to cut it.”
“She can wash her own fucking hair.”
“She let me in!” Gabriel snapped. He jabbed a finger back toward my face while staring down North. “Do you think for one minute I’d do anything to her? Have you lost your god damn mind? I didn’t force my way in.”
North’s jaw set and he glared back. “Just go.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes and he turned back to me. “Get dressed and meet me in the garage. Don’t take too long.” He opened the closet to grab another towel and handed it to me. “Wrap your hair in that so you don’t drip everywhere, but don’t dry it out.”
I clutched the extra towel to my body. I didn’t trust the towel I was wearing to hang on if I lifted my arms. I was also scared to say anything or move in fear they’d start fighting again. How could Kota be serious to think arguing meant they cared?
North started sniffing the air. He stepped over to me, pressing his nose to my scalp. He jerked his head back. “What the fuck is wrong with her head?”
“It’s the shampoo,” I whispered, holding the extra towel up close to my mouth to partially hide my face.
“Gabe,” North barked. His eyes met mine and held firmly. “Change the formula. It smells like shit.”
“It’s not there to make her smell pretty.”
“I don’t care. It stinks. Change it.” He smirked and winked at me. “Sang can’t smell like a dead rat.”
“God damn shit,” Gabriel grumbled, marching into Kota’s room and down the stairs. “Gabriel, don’t wash her hair. Gabriel, change the motherfucking formula. Gabriel, cut off your own ear and eat it.” There was more but he’d wandered off into the house and it was lost.
I rattled when I realized I was standing naked in a towel, alone with North, also naked in a towel. His was hanging off of his hips lower, and I saw more of the line of hair below his belly button, and the start of the angle of his hip bones. I focused on the wall.
North’s fingers found my chin, lifting. “Don’t let him walk over you,” he said. “If you’re uncomfortable, tell him to back off. If he doesn’t listen, come find me.”
I nodded. Was this the same North that was yelling a minute ago? His eyes were softer now, his touch gentle.
He stepped back. “Get some clothes on. I’ll wait,” he said. He closed the door behind himself.
I hurriedly put on my underwear and a pair of jean shorts with the bottom hem made to look like cut strips. Ha
lf of the shorts were bleached out at the thighs and covered in hot pink dye. I dropped a form-fitting, black t-shirt over my head. I put the bracelet on my wrist and wrapped the extra towel around my hair, twisting it up on my head to stop from dripping.
When my heart wriggled back down from my throat to my chest, I opened the door, wondering why there was a lock. Did it even work?
North was leaning against the frame. He turned, his eyes falling on my clothes. His lips parted and his palm brushed the side of his neck. “That’s a... that looks really good on you.”
My cheeks flushed. I squeezed the towel at my head. “Gabriel picked it out.”
“He knows his shit.” A smirk touched his lips. “Don’t tell him I said that.”
I shared a quiet smile with him. Black was his favorite color, right? Maybe he liked it when I wore it. I wanted to remember that. It felt like he was pleased and I wanted to do that again. I side-stepped away from the bathroom. “Sorry if I took too long.”
He waved his hand in the air. “Go let that bastard cut your hair, will you?” He shut the door behind himself.
In the garage, Silas was sitting in a metal folding chair. Gabriel hovered over his head with a pair of electric clippers. Max was at Silas’ feet, rolling over his toes. When I stepped barefoot down the steps, Max hopped up and met me, sniffing at my knees.
“I’ll get you in a minute, Trouble,” Gabriel mumbled, a black comb dangling from the corner of his pressed lips.
“Okay,” I said, squatting to rub Max on the head before stepping around him to cross in front of Silas. I wanted to watch Gabriel cut hair.
Silas had a towel wrapped around his shoulders, wearing jeans and a white tank shirt that made his strong arms look more massive than usual. His eyes lit up when I came into view. “Nice shorts.”
“Do you like the pink?” I asked, pulling back my head and holding out a leg so I could look down at the material on my own body.
“I like the blue with the pink,” Silas said, pointing to the top half of the shorts where the colors blended together. “They’re a good match.”
“He likes dark blue,” Gabriel said as he made his way around to the front of Silas, bending over slightly around Silas’ knees. He pointed the end of the clippers at Silas’ nose. “Okay now for the shitty sideburns you’ve let grow too far on your face.”
Silas’ fingers smoothed over the hair in front of his ears. “Leave it midway like it is,” he said.
“It’s too much,” Gabriel said. “I gave it a try. It’s not working.”
“Sang likes it.” Silas peered around at me. “Don’t you?”
I didn’t recall seeing him with shorter sideburns. He’d always looked the same to me, so I didn’t know how to respond. I did like how Gabriel had trimmed the top of his hair a little shorter. It looked like smooth fur on his head. I wanted to thread my fingers through it as it looked soft. “Yeah,” I said, wanting to please Silas. “Let him keep it.”
“Nu uh,” Gabriel said. “They’re coming off. They need to be shorter.”
“Aw,” I pouted. “Please?”
Gabriel turned on me, pointing the clippers in my direction. “Nope, stop that. I want that lip gone.”
Silas appeared in my field of view. He made his own pout behind Gabriel’s back and pointed to his lips and then to me.
It was difficult not to crack a smile at Silas’s pout and his little plot, but I puckered my lower lip out more.
Gabriel scoffed. “Suck that lip back in, Sang. I mean it.”
I tilted my head down, casting my eyes to his feet as if defeated, but left my lip out. I wasn’t sure if it was working like Silas thought it would.
“Trouble, I’m gonna count to three, and if that god damn lip isn’t pulled back in, I swear...”
“Don’t be such a meanie,” I said, glancing up with my head still tilted.
Gabriel’s eyes slitted at me. “Trouble...”
“Meanie,” I countered. I twisted the pout. Without intending to, it quivered as I sucked in a breath.
“Shit... fuck,” Gabriel clutched his tools to his chest, stepping away from Silas. The comb dropped from his mouth, rattling to the ground. “Trouble, don’t do that to me,” he begged. He stepped closer. Since his hands were full, he used his wrists to push my cheeks at my face. His eyes were stressed, his mouth drawn. “Don’t do it anymore. God, please, no, please. You can’t do that to me.”
“You said you would cut them off,” I said, with difficulty since he was squishing my cheeks.
“I won’t. I won’t touch it. Don’t look at me like that. He can keep it. As long as you want it.”
I stopped the pout, making a half smile against the squishing. “Are you sure?” I asked with enthusiasm, brightening up again quickly.
Gabriel’s eyes focused on my face with an unsteady relief. Silas caught my eye. He held up a thumb, mouthing good job, and grinning. I grinned back at him without thinking and Gabriel caught it, whipping his head around just as Silas was lowering his hand and smoothing out his face.
“You motherfucker. That’s it. You’re done.” Gabriel stepped back and ripped the towel from Silas’ shoulders. “Walk around with uneven sideburns for all I care.”
Silas laughed, stood up, and brushed his fingers around his shoulders to sweep away lost bits of hair. “Totally worth it.”
“Thank you, Meanie,” I said, trying to sound thrilled with his decision. I was pleased with the nickname I’d made up.
Gabriel’s mouth fell. “No, not that...” He pointed the clippers at my face. “Don’t you dare.”
“It’s only fitting,” Silas said. “You call her Trouble.”
“She is Trouble,” Gabriel groaned. “And you know it.”
“Nope, she’s aggele mou.”
“A devil’s angel, maybe.” Gabriel smirked. He snapped his fingers at me. “All right, now you.” He pointed to the chair.
I tiptoed over to the chair, perching carefully. I was worried he would give me a horrible haircut. He’d only done boys’ hair before, right? Would mine be cut short? Or would I end up looking like Luke with his longish blond hair hanging around his shoulders?
Silas backed off, sitting on the ground cross-legged, putting his hands behind him to lean back. It comforted me that he was there and might run interference in case Gabriel tried to buzz my hair short. I smiled pleasantly at Silas and he beamed.
Gabriel put aside the clippers on top of his blue duffle bag and out of the way of Max sniffing around our legs. Gabriel put the scissors in his back pocket. He took my towel from my shoulders and readjusted it to cover my body and started combing out my hair. He smoothed out the strands, feeling them between his fingers. “Feels better,” he said. “Don’t use the stuff you were using at home, okay? Wait for me to bring you a new batch.”
Silas started making faces at me. My shoulders shook as I giggled.
“Stop it,” Gabriel commanded. “You make her giggle when I’m cutting her hair, I’m likely to fuck up.”
“Don’t fuck up her hair,” Silas said.
Gabriel stepped in front of me and blocked my view of Silas. Gabriel angled his head down to me. “You’re too short,” he said. He swept a finger across my cheek as he combed the hair close to my face. “I should take you home with me.”
“We don’t have time for that,” Kota’s voice floated out to us from beyond where I could see without turning my head. Max greeted him with a yip, leaping to meet him.
“I need her higher,” Gabriel said. “It won’t look right if I try to do it like this.”
“Stand up for a second, Sang,” Kota said, his footsteps moving closer.
I stood up, holding the towel in place around my shoulders. Kota was wearing Levi’s jeans and a hunter green polo. His brown hair was smoothed back, still slightly damp. His eyes swept over me, a smile catching on his lips. He nudged his glasses up by the bridge and sat on the chair, putting his knees together.
He patted at his lap. “C
ome sit here,” he commanded.
“I can’t move around you,” Gabriel said.
“She can sit facing me and then sit facing away as you need,” he said. “Unless you want to wait.”
Gabriel grumbled, shifting on his feet as if considering the options. “Fine.”
Kota planted his hands on my hips and I sat on his knees, facing him first. I sat closer to the edge of his knees so Gabriel didn’t have to lean around Kota’s legs. My palms met with Kota’s chest to steady myself. My face felt hot. It was an awkward position. I was forced to look at Kota. His eyes were always so questioning, so invasive. Not for the first time, I felt he could see every little secret buried inside me.
Gabriel combed the back of my head and started snipping the scissors. Comb, snip. Comb, snip.
“Is he making spikes in my hair?” I asked Kota.
Kota laughed, his friendly voice echoing in the garage. His palms fell to rest on my thighs just above my knees. “Did you want spikes?”
“No spikes,” Silas said.
“I’m not doing spikes,” Gabriel mumbled. “Not today at least.”
“I didn’t know you cut girls’ hair,” Silas said.
Gabriel shuffled around to the side. Comb, snip. “Sang’s my first.”
My eyes widened at Kota. “Really?”
Kota grinned. “He’s kidding.”
“Like hell I am,” Gabriel said. “What, you think I’ve got dummy girls in my closet at home to practice on?”
“What about all those girls you woo or break hearts of or what not?” I said, recalling his poem and his singing and all the times he talked about things he knew about girls.
“Mergh,” Gabriel said. “Shut up or I’ll leave you with half a haircut.”
I rolled my eyes, but pressed my lips together. I didn’t want to bug him anymore. We’d been picking on him a lot that morning and he still looked like he was about to fall over from exhaustion.
Gabriel was measuring out my hair just off my shoulder when the side door opened. Erica stepped out, wearing shorts now, and a faded brown t-shirt. She padded out into the garage. The air electrified around me. Silas half coughed. Kota stiffened in the chair at this. Gabriel combed my hair more than he snipped. Silent warning system?