Long Hair Don't Care

by Maggie Dallen

  Seriously, could he not go five seconds without smiling?

  “You want me to wait?” he asked.

  Wait? Was he serious?

  He was.

  “No,” I said quickly. “Thank you, but no. I’m sure a car service will be free when I’m done, and I’m guessing you have somewhere to be.”

  He nodded. “I’m working at the restaurant tonight.”

  “Right,” I said as I reached for the door handle. I knew that. Flynn was catering and Roman was working at the restaurant. “So, I’ll just, uh…” I slid toward the car door. “I’ll see you around.”

  His gaze was unreadable, but that freakin’ smile was still in place. “Good luck, Willow.”

  I nodded and shut the door. Good luck? Luck had nothing to do with this.

  I didn’t look back as I strode toward the entrance...to face my fate.

  Four

  Roman

  * * *

  I’d never minded waiting. Patience might have been the only virtue I could claim, so it wasn’t a hardship to sit there and wait.

  I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel in time with the beat and glanced at the clock. I still had a little time before I had to be at work. And it wasn’t like I had anything else to do.

  On cue, my brain called up roughly twelve things I could be doing right now. All of which were a better use of my time than sitting here staring at the entrance to a hospital like I was on the world’s most boring stakeout.

  But she might need a ride, right? There was a chance all the car companies would be booked out, and then where would she be? Late for work, that’s where. And Mrs. Messner might be a nice lady, but I’d bet every dollar I had that super serious Willow was not a fan of being late.

  She’d said I could leave, but it was basically my civic duty to give her a ride. Right?

  Yeah. Sure. That’s why I was sticking around. It had nothing to do with that flare of panic I caught in her eyes before she’d hid it behind that somber facade and the cold, implacable stare.

  Just the memory of that flicker of emotion had me shifting uncomfortably, and I tried not to let my mind wander to all the reasons she might have an appointment at the hospital.

  It had taken everything in me not to ask questions on the drive here. But if there was one thing I understood, it was the need for privacy. I could respect that.

  And I should probably respect her wishes and just leave already.

  I let my head fall back against the seat with a thud. What was I even doing here? This was ridiculous. I should go. I glanced at the clock again. My uncle would kill me if I was late, and then I’d have to hear another lecture about how much I’d taken after my deadbeat dad. I got enough of those comments from my mom to last me a lifetime.

  I fiddled with the key in the ignition. To stay or to go?

  Oh, who was I kidding? I dropped my hand. There was no way I could walk away right now. Call me crazy, but I was pretty sure this girl needed me.

  Well, not me in particular. But she needed someone, and I was here.

  I kept thinking about what Flynn and Isla had said the other night about how her parents were never around. I knew she had no siblings. She had the girls from the Princess Troupe, but I’d been hanging around that crew enough to know that she wasn’t super tight with any of them.

  Willow had avoided me like the plague at the last party we’d both worked, but I’d watched her. I’d seen firsthand how she moved on the outskirts. Not just of the party, but with her circle of friends. She was a part of their crew, but not in the center. She did her job. She was kind and responsible and reliable and…

  And that was it, as far as I could tell. There was no lighthearted laughter. No smiles, except when she was playing her role. She was on the outside looking in, whether she realized it or not.

  She’d been Rapunzel at the last party, and the sight of her with her hair down had left me gaping. She looked like herself...but different. More human and less android. She’d looked pretty. One might even say hot.

  Or, she would have been hot if she hadn’t been drowning in an ill-fitted pink princess gown.

  My lips twitched at the memory. I’d seen Willow around school over the years, but I’d never really noticed her. And none of my experiences with Miss Serious in the halls of Lindale High could have prepared me for the sight of her with her hair down, taking care of the little kids. She had a knack with them, which I never would have expected from one so standoffish and serious. But when she crouched down to talk to each little girl, she gave them her undivided attention, listening to every word they said.

  Even from where I’d stood at the catering station, I could see the way those girls flourished under her attention. They stood straighter, their eyes grew wider, and they practically beamed with pride at whatever she was saying in return.

  It was sweet. Heartwarming, even.

  I thrummed my fingers against the steering wheel again. I wished I knew what she’d been saying to those girls.

  But let’s be honest, it was her words to me at the lakeside party that were really haunting me. All this time and I could still hear her voice chiding me, demanding I do better. I glanced over at the doors again but still no sight of her. The longer she was out of sight, the more unnerved I felt. Which was weird. I couldn’t tell if this was nervousness on her behalf or because I just really wanted to see her.

  So here I was, waiting for her like a dog on leash. I scrubbed a hand over my face with a sigh. What was happening to me? Why had I even offered her a ride in the first place? Why had I even been at the high school to begin with?

  I hadn’t been lying earlier about swinging by to see if Callie needed a ride. Not exactly. But I would have been lying if I’d said I hadn’t been hoping to catch a glimpse of the self-righteous librarian while I was there.

  I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. It wasn’t like I had a thing for her or anything. I just wanted…

  What?

  I still wasn’t sure. To prove her wrong? To make her see that she’d been wrong about me? I met my own stare in the rearview mirror. To prove to myself that she’d been wrong about me?

  I winced. That wince turned into a full-blown grimace with my next thought. If I was being totally honest, maybe I sort of...wanted her approval.

  I ran a hand through my hair as I stared doggedly at the entrance. How lame was that? Who wanted the approval of a high school senior? And a nerdy one at that. But the way she’d talked to me—okay, fine. The way she’d yelled at me and demanded I do better…

  My heart had been pounding furiously ever since with some new determination that I couldn’t describe if I tried. For the first time in a long time, someone expected something of me. Something more than just playing my guitar and hanging out at a party.

  And that someone was currently bursting out of the hospital doors. Her head tucked down, her arms wrapped around some books, and her bun bobbing as she walked like a speed demon. She was heading toward the street, and I fumbled with the door handle in my haste to get out. “Willow!”

  Her head snapped up and she spun around to face me, eyes wide with shock.

  “Willow! Hey.” I tried for nonchalance, but that was pretty hard to pull off given the circumstances.

  Still, I slouched against the side of my car all the same as if to say ‘hey, fancy meeting you here’ with my body language.

  I fooled no one.

  Willow’s brows drew down in confusion, but she reversed course to head in my direction. “What are you doing here?” she asked when she was a few feet away.

  She was wearing a skirt or maybe a dress. Hard to tell with that big frumpy cardigan over top. I looked down and was totally unsurprised to see the most practical shoes of all time on her feet. If you told me they were orthopedic, I’d believe it. Her bun was as tight as ever, and her lips were set in a straight line, as usual.

  Like always, Willow was utterly put together. Prim, proper, and with posture so stiff she just needed
a turnkey on her back and she’d be a life-size, wind-up toy.

  Just as uptight as ever, basically. So why did I get the sense that she was coming apart at the seams?

  I peered closer, but that only made her tighten her grip on the books in her arms. Books she hadn’t taken the time to shove into the oversized bag hanging off one shoulder.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked again. This time she looked around as if seeking a clue. “I thought you had to work.”

  “I did.” I do. I should have been there five minutes ago. I was already late, and there was definitely a lecture in my near future. But, in for a penny in for a pound, right? “I figured you might need that ride.”

  She stared at me for so long I started to wonder if I’d spoken at all. Finally, I broke the sentence by spelling out the question I’d assumed was implied. “Uh, do you? Need a ride, I mean?” I cringed a bit at my own lameness.

  For the record, I was not lame. I was often and rightfully dismissed as a slacker. Some girls referred to me as a player. Teachers called me bad news.

  So yeah, I was a lot of things. But I was not lame. Ask anyone.

  “You waited?” Her brow was so scrunched up in confusion, it looked painful. Her gaze was so boggled, it seemed like maybe I’d just blown her mind.

  I scrubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah. I didn’t have anything else going on and—”

  “You...you…” She drew in a deep breath and let out the next words on a rush of air. “You waited.”

  “Um…” Now it was my turn to glance around for a clue. Was she pissed? Her shock was hard to decipher, and she really wasn’t giving me much to work with here.

  And so I was just about gutted when I turned back to see tears welling in her eyes.

  Oh crap. I froze for a second, my chest cracking apart down the middle at the sight of the stalwart, stoic librarian on the verge of tears. When her lower lip trembled and one tear slid down her cheek, I came out of my stunned stupor and acted on instinct.

  I reached for her.

  She was stiff as a mannequin in my arms, but she didn’t pull away. Her head came to my shoulder and her bun brushed my cheek as she turned her face so her eyes were pressing into my T-shirt. I felt the burn of her hot tears as a whiff of her shampoo hit my nose.

  Just like that, my senses were assaulted by this girl, and my entire body reacted like someone had thrown gasoline on me and lit a match. All I could feel was the lean length of her pressed against me, all I could hear was her breathing, all I could see was the way her fingers clutched the material of my T-shirt like she was hanging on for dear life.

  She didn’t return the embrace. One of her arms was pinned between us, along with the books she’d been carrying. But with one hand she clung to me, and the white of her knuckles had my lungs faltering, and that cracked feeling in my chest grew a million times over.

  This girl needed someone. She needed me. Only because I was here, obviously, but I didn’t care. What mattered was, she needed me, and she didn’t want to admit it.

  I shifted slightly so I could run one of my hands over her back. She didn’t pull away, so I did it again, and then again. Eventually, that stiffness started to ease, and she actually leaned into me. I was saying stuff, but I didn’t even know what. I murmured whatever words of comfort that came to me. Things like it’s okay. It’ll be okay. You’re safe.

  I didn’t even know what she was upset about, so obviously it was all meaningless, but between the back rub and the words, she slowly but surely relaxed and...that was when it happened.

  A shake of her shoulders, a big inhale that made her back rise and fall, and then she was sobbing. The girl was outright weeping on my shoulder.

  My chest seriously couldn’t take any more. It physically hurt to hear her cry.

  “Hey,” I finally said, kissing the top of her head right by that ridiculous bun because right now I was pretty sure there were no boundaries. She was in pain, and I was here. That was all that mattered. “Hey, Willow. It’ll be okay.”

  Her head shook. “You don’t understand.”

  I didn’t understand. Maybe it wouldn’t be okay. Dread pooled in my stomach and I took a deep breath.

  “Is it…” I cleared my throat. “Are you sick or—”

  “No!” She lifted her head, and her bright blue eyes sparkled with tears. “That’s just it. I’m not.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly, racking my brain to figure this out. “Is it, um... Is someone you love sick or—”

  “No.” She shook her head. “No, that’s just it. I thought I was sick. I thought I was—” Her eyes screwed shut tight and her lips pressed together. She was trying to get control.

  I gave her time.

  She opened her eyes with a deep inhale. “I thought I was sick. But I’m not.”

  I nodded, because I was pretty sure that was all she was going to tell me. I supposed that was all she had to tell me. She was relieved, that much was obvious. But there was so much more going on beneath the surface…

  I wondered if even she had any idea how much. This girl was smart. Everyone knew that. But something about her reactions right now said she wasn’t exactly in touch with her emotions, you know?

  “I should…” She gave her head a little shake and unclasped the hand that had been fisted in my T-shirt so she could swipe at her eyes and her nose. The material she’d been clutching so tightly was now a wrinkled mess over my heart.

  “I should get to work,” she said.

  I gestured to my car with a ridiculous flourish solely intended to make her laugh. “Your chariot awaits.”

  A flicker of surprise, and then the slightest twitch of her lips. It wasn’t much, but I felt triumph surge all the way to my toes. Emboldened by her reaction to my dumb joke, I went around to her side and opened the passenger side door for her.

  “Thanks,” she said. And when I’d gotten into the driver’s side, she added, “For everything.”

  “No biggie,” I said. I instantly regretted it because whatever was going on with her? It was big. It was safe to say it was a ‘biggie.’ But I wanted to put her at ease any way I could. Because even now after she’d cried openly on my shoulder, she was stiffening and closing herself off. I could basically see her shutting the blinds and locking the gate...and I hated that more than I could say.

  My hands twitched on the wheel. I was antsier now than I had been while waiting for her. I didn’t want the moment to pass. I didn’t want to be locked out again, not after getting a glimpse of the girl behind the mask.

  But I had this feeling—an instinct or maybe just a suspicion—that asking her personal questions outright would only push her further away. She’d revert even more into that shell. “To the Barons’ house or Mrs. Messner’s?” I asked.

  “Um…” She pulled out her phone and sighed. “The Barons’ please.” She started texting someone back. “It ran longer than I’d thought and they had to leave without me.”

  “No biggie.” I winced. I really had to stop saying that. For a guy who was not lame, I was setting new records in lameness today. “The Barons aren’t far out of the way.”

  She glanced over. “Thanks.”

  I nodded and looked at the clock in my car. Yup. I was definitely entering the too-late-to-go-unnoticed territory. But there was no debate here. No matter how much trouble it meant for me later, right now I was going to see this girl safely to her next stop.

  She rattled off an address, but I already knew the way. The Barons were one of those families that everyone knew. Not just because they threw a lot of parties and hired my uncle’s restaurant and the Princess Troupe on a regular basis. They were also local celebrities, since they owned half the real estate in town, not to mention had their names stamped all over the local parks and schools.

  There were several generations and branches of the family, and one of grandkids was Leo, the star quarterback for Lindale High. Of course he was the star quarterback, right? I mean, as the local heir apparent, it
just went without saying that he’d be popular and revered.

  There was the tiniest swell of bitterness when I pulled up in front of the mansion that belonged to his grandparents. The guests were already arriving, so I stopped behind a Mercedes Benz that made my car look like a scrapheap.

  “You going to be okay?” I asked.

  She nodded and flashed me an unexpected smile that temporarily rendered me speechless. “Of course. I’m sorry about before.” She cleared her throat. “I, uh—I don’t usually do that.”

  “I didn’t think you did,” I said.

  “Yes, well.” She reached for her bag. “I apologize.”

  “Nothing to apologize for.”

  Her lips twitched, and I could see her pinch them shut.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing, it’s just.” She let out a huff, and to my utter surprise and delight—she blushed. It was slight, but I saw it. “I don’t typically lose control like that, and now I’ve done it twice.”

  She gave me a sidelong look, and I didn’t need her to remind me of the first time. The night she’d yelled at me. The memory inexplicably makes me smile. “So I make you lose control, huh?”

  The over-the-top cockiness in my voice had her rolling her eyes. I leaned in closer and she jerked back slightly in surprise.

  “Should I be flattered?” I asked in a low drawl.

  Was I flirting? Yes. Yes, I was. I couldn’t help myself.

  The surprise in her expression faded and was replaced by a glint of something sharp and clever. Maybe a little mischievous. “I wouldn’t be,” she said in a mild tone.

  But another twitch of her lips gave her away, and I fell back against my seat with a huff of laughter. Willow Stevens, the most serious girl I’d ever met, had just made a joke.

  At my expense.

  “Okay, well…” She nibbled on her bottom lip, looking not at all ready to face her friends and co-workers, let alone a crowd of the town’s most wealthy and powerful.

  “Here.” I flipped open the armrest and pulled out sunglasses. “Put these on.”