“Yeah, I could tell. You have great hair. I'm using some really gentle highlights. There will be very little damage, and we'll trim most of it out,” the girl named Carla, as Grace could see on her name-tag, replied.
“Oh, I wasn't worried about the damage.” Grace laughed nervously.
Carla met her eyes in the mirror and smiled tightly. She probably thinks I'm so weird.
“So,” Carla started. “Why are you cutting your hair off now and getting it colored? Special occasion?”
“I guess you could say that.” Grace divulged. “I am starting out at Yale and just kind of want a new look to go with my new geographical location.”
“Oh?” Carla checked a foil for blondness.
“Yeah, I grew up in a small town a few hours from here. Everyone knew everyone and I just...I guess I want a new look so no one knows me anymore. Does that make sense or is it completely silly?” Grace chuckled self-consciously.
Carla shrugged. “Nah, I get that. I grew up in a small town and when I got out, I just kind of went crazy. I had to find myself. It was fun.”
Grace chewed her bottom lip. “Any suggestions?”
“For what, to find yourself? Sure, go out and have fun. Let life come as it does.” Carla checked a foil again. “We're ready to wash your hair.”
Grace stood and followed her back to a sink where she enjoyed the feeling of her hair being washed. Carla dried it carefully with the towel and led her back to the seat where she turned her around and smiled. “I'll show you when we're done.”
Grace fidgeted in the chair a little as Carla sliced through layers of her hair, adding in dimension and style, so she mumbled under her breath. Finally the scissors were put down and Carla squirted product into her palms and ran her hands through the still damp tresses. “Now to blow dry.” She smiled.
Grace patiently waited as her hair was blown dry and flat ironed smooth. As Carla finished, she smiled. “You ready to see?”
Grace nodded, unable to speak around the panic that filled her throat.
The seat turned to the mirror and her eyes went wide. A different girl sat in the chair than the one who had come in. Her hair lay smooth and soft against her shoulders, a beautiful palette of chocolate, caramel, and amber. Her bangs that swept to the side framed her warm brown eyes. Carla removed the apron from around her neck. “You know, I really hate to give you back these ugly glasses.” Carla grinned.
Grace took them and put them on. “Yeah, it kind of ruins the look, doesn't it? I have contacts back at my dorm.”
“Well, you look great. I really love the style on you, and I'm kind of glad we chopped off all that hair. It was really weighing you down.” Carla led the way to the register, where Grace paid. She picked up her purchases and left the mall.
The final words from the stylist kept ringing in her mind. My hair was my hiding place. I can't hide anymore. The shorter layers around her face wouldn't disguise it anymore. It's like being stripped naked in a way. It's weird and wonderful. Maybe this is why Christina hates clothes.
The smile wouldn't leave her face as she boarded the bus and began the ride back to school. Her bags took up the seat and she leaned against them. A yawn escaped from between her lips and she hurried to cover her mouth. Her arm bumped the bags and one tumbled over into the aisle. Her satiny, lacy new panties fell out of the bag and into view. She yelped in panic and bent to retrieve them.
Her hand collided with another and she snatched the clothing from the very, very masculine hand and shoved them back into the bag, her face crimson.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, turning to stare out the window. Oh God, oh God, I'm going to die.
The man chuckled and she refused to turn to meet his eyes. “You're welcome, it's not every day I get to touch panties on the bus,” he leaned over the seat and whispered.
With shocked eyes she turned and stared at the guy who was suddenly very much in her personal space. He was lanky and lean, with shaggy brown hair and piercing blue eyes. His jeans rode low and as he leaned forward, his shirt revealed a divot of muscle that made her throat go dry. She had no witty comeback to put him in his place and just stared at him like a buffoon.
He finally quirked an eyebrow and shrugged, shifting to sit two seats behind her. Grace sagged in the seat. Oh great...he thinks I'm a total loser. You had a chance there, Grace! You could have flirted. Instead you sit there like a dork.
As she came to the stop to switch buses, she snatched up her bags and almost ran off the bus. She glanced behind her to make sure the adorable panty toucher wasn't getting off with her. He looked at her from his window and a grin crossed his lips as he shook his head and waved. Grace nodded at him and hurried to the bench to sit. I wonder if I will ever see him again. Probably not. What a way to end that encounter.
The next bus came and she climbed on, depositing her change with a heavy heart. All the cute clothes and hairstyles in the world can't prepare me to not be awkward. I shouldn't have done this. It was a mistake. I let Christina get in my head and doubt who I am. This isn't me. I'm the safe girl.
She sat down in the seat and her head fell as she fought back tears. An older woman touched her arm. “Hey there, I really like your hair. It's really pretty.”
Grace smiled even as her eyes welled with tears. “Thanks.”
“You okay?” the grandmotherly woman asked, concern etched on her kind face.
“Sure. Just a little homesick,” Grace lied.
“Aw, you're up at Yale?”
Grace nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“Well congratulations, that's a big accomplishment.”
They chatted the rest of the ride and Grace smiled at her as she left the bus. “Thanks for the chat.”
“Sure.” She smiled.
Grace carried her bags into the dorm. She climbed the stairs with a heavy heart. Music boomed once more from their room. She braced herself, ready to see Christina's bits again. She kicked the door with her toe, her hands too full to knock. The music was turned down and Christina peeked from around the edge of the door. “Oh! Hey!” She grinned. “Whoa, mama, you look gorgeous!” she cooed as she opened the door.
Grace stepped inside and tossed the bags on the floor. “This was just a big mistake. I let myself cave into peer pressure and I bought all this crap and cut off my hair to fit in with you.”
Christina closed the door and propped her hands on her hips. “Whoa nelly, to fit in with me? You don't ever have to fit in with me. I just thought you’d like to look like a young woman, not a grandma. You look great. You do know just because you change your clothes or your hair, it doesn't change who you are. Your wrapping is just a little different, the present inside is still the same.”
Grace sighed and plopped down on the bed. “Maybe you're right. It's just weird.”
“No doubt. You've been fat shamed by the media and it sucks. I say screw the media and be sexy, just like you are. Sexy comes from inside.”
Grace laughed tiredly. “I don't know how to do that.”
“It's just a mindset. I say each morning, I'm me and nothing will change who I am. I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and I don't have to be something I'm not.”
Grace touched the top she wore. “This is really pretty.”
“It looks great on you. I really like your hair. But do stuff because it makes you happy, not because someone like me ran their mouth.” Christina admonished.
Grace smiled sheepishly. “I am glad I did it. I really like what I bought. I just realized it's going to get me attention that maybe I'm not ready for. I'm not necessarily the smoothest operator. In fact, I met this guy on the bus...oh, you don't want to hear this.” She turned and began pulling the clothes out of a bag.
Christina huffed. “Yes, I do! Tell me! You met this guy...”
Grace blushed. “Well, I met him and he was flirting with me. My panties fell in the aisle.” She held up a lacy scrap of fabric and went redder. “He picked a pair up and was flirting with me. At least I thi
nk. I sat there like I was mute,” she groaned and stretched the panties in her hand before releasing them. The fabric fluttered through the air and landed in the middle of the room. She flopped back on the bed and covered her eyes. “I should have been like, you could see them on, or something like that, right?”
Christina picked up the panties and her eyebrow rose. “Well, these definitely aren't granny panties. I don’t think you're quite ready to offer to show him the panties on...or off. But don't stress it. You have to take baby steps to learn to flirt.”
Grace snorted. “And who is going to teach me these ways?”
Christina pointed at herself. “Me. I'm the queen of flirting. It's Friday night and everyone is going to be out. How about a quick crash course? You look cute and I can be ready in five.” Grace shook her head quickly. “No, no, no. I'm not ready.”
“You'll never be ready unless you jump. It's like swim lessons. I'm the uber hot instructor in the water and you're the kid scared to jump. I'll catch you! Just jump!”
“I'll smash you if I jump on you.” Grace snorted.
“No, you won't! Come on, please?” Christina begged, jutting her bottom lip out and curling her hands together under her chin like she was praying.
Grace found herself smiling. “Okay, okay, fine, I will put my contacts in and you get dressed.” She stood and found her contacts case. As she turned around she blanched to see Christina completely naked and pulling a tiny scrap of shiny material out of the closet. “Oh!” Grace squeaked and turned back around quickly.
“You okay?” Christina called.
“Yep, great!” Grace lied. “I just poked myself.” Jealousy bubbled up seeing her new friend's toned body. She looked great, no cellulite, firm, high breasts. No one is going to look at me with her in the room. She pouted as she put the contacts in quickly. She blinked her eyes and the contacts settled in. She peeked over her shoulder to make sure the coast was clear and was relieved to see Christina's body encased in stretchy silver lycra. The little dress hit just below the cheeks of her butt and delineated every curve on her lithe frame.
“Well, I'm ready to go!” Christina grinned, throwing her arms out wide.
Grace glanced down at her modest outfit. “I suddenly feel overdressed.”
Christina caught her elbow and propelled them out the door. “Don't be silly! You look great.”
“Where are we going?” Grace asked. “I forgot my purse.”
“You don't need it. There’s a frat party. I plan on getting my dance and drink on!” Christina whooped in joy and threw her arm in the air.
Grace felt her eyes go wide and she swallowed. “Frat party? That's a bit big for me.”
“No way! First party of the season. Super easy. Not everyone is even here yet! Don't stress it, okay? I will field the jerks for you. You see a hottie you want to practice flirting with, you let me know.” She tossed her hair and skipped merrily along the sidewalk like a little girl, her blonde locks fluttering out on the breeze.
Grace took in tiny, rapid breaths as her chest tightened up. “I can't do this.”
Christina stopped and stood in front of her, placing her arms on her shoulders. “Look at me. It's a party. It's not like they’re going to lay you on a table and force you to partake in a threesome. It's just a party.”
Grace blanched. “What's a threesome?”
Christina's smile faded. “Oh, dear Jesus.” She crossed herself. “We have so much work to do.” She turned and caught her elbow again. “Come on, nun.”
Grace frowned. “I'm not a nun! What's a threesome?”
“I'll explain to you later,” Christina assured her. She smirked and continued, “Honey, you are very much a nun. The Virgin Grace.”
“Well, what are we going to call you, Mary Magdalene?” Grace quipped back, laughter tempering her insult.
Christina tipped her chin up and stuck her breasts out. “I hung out with Jesus.”
Grace's smile fell slightly. “That's true, you did. Wait, how do you know about all this?”
Christina snorted. “I mean, honey, even heathens have read the Bible. I've read it twice. I just don't like rules and laws.” She shrugged.
“Color me impressed, I haven't even read it all,” she admitted.
Christina grinned. “Then you can't judge me.”
“Oh, I'm not!” Grace promised.
“I see the wheels in your little mind working. You think I'm wild and weird.”
“And wonderful,” Grace whispered.
“Ah, now look, you're sweet.” Christina patted her arm. “Look, there's the frat house. Here are the simple rules. One, don't take drinks from people you don't know. Two, going into a bedroom means you want to have your muffin buttered. Three, just stick with me. We're like a team.”
Grace nodded as she processed the rules. “Wait, I like my muffins buttered. Especially blueberry ones.”
Christina rolled her eyes skyward. “No, honey, not that kind of muffins. If you go into a bedroom you want to have sex.”
“Oh! I-I didn't realize there was terminology for sex,” Grace mumbled.
“Where were you in high school, a convent?” Christina sighed. “I didn’t realize that an eighteen-year-old could be quite so innocent.”
“Well, I was busy in high school. I did lots of math clubs and stuff.”
Christina led the way up the stairs of the frat house. “Okay, remember if a guy wants you to divide your legs, he wants to multiply with you. So let's not do that.”
Grace nodded. “Got it. No division. No division,” she whispered as they walked into the brick building. The air was sticky and hot, and music oozed through it, the beat pulsating and desire driven. Christina grinned back at her and stuck her thumb in the air. Grace tried to smile and stuck her thumb up too. Oh God.. what did I get myself into?
Chapter Four
Christina picked up the ladle in the punch bowl and scooped up some of the bright red liquid. She sniffed it and dropped it back in the bowl. “Yeah, don't drink that,” she mumbled.
“Why not?” Grace asked. “It looks like punch.”
“Yeah, do you want to end up naked in Mexico doing a donkey show? The answer to that should be no. Pass on the innocent looking punch. Always.” Christina advised.
“Oh. For some reason I don't think being in Mexico and doing a donkey show would be good,” Grace agreed.
“Look, here are some beers.” Christina fished two beers out of a red cooler on a table. “It's sealed, no one can slip you a roofie. This is a plus.”
“I heard about roofies on the news,” Grace said proudly. “They make you like pass out and you can get raped.”
“Bingo!” Christina tipped her beer toward Grace with a smile. She cracked the tab and took a drink.
Grace rolled the cold can between her hands and stared down at the tab. Her father's sermons boomed through her head that alcohol was bad. She gripped the can firmly and popped the tab. The beer fizzed and spewed creamy froth out over her hand. She squeaked and held it away from her clothes.
A guy jostled her from behind as he grabbed a beer. “Hey there, cutie. Did that beer explode on you?” He winked and leaned against the table as he opened his beer and took a sip.
Grace nodded. “I guess I played with it too much. I was nervous.”
The guy choked on his beer and a slow smile crossed his lips. “Aww, honey, there's no need to be nervous when you play with it. You'll get the same reaction no matter what you do. I'm Jaxon. What's your name?”
Grace opened her mouth to speak and Christina pushed in front of her. “Hey, sleazebag. She's not interested in playing with your wiener, so skip along.”
Jaxon tipped his beer in their direction and moved away with a grin on his face. Grace sighed. “He was nice.”
Christina rubbed her eyes. “He was talking about you jerking his dick off.”
“No, we were talking about our beer.” Grace insisted.
“No, honey, he was talking about you playi
ng with his dick and him coming all over your hand.” Christina took another sip of her beer and watched as Grace paled.
“Oh my,” Grace whispered.
“Yeah. You'll learn. It just takes practice. Till then, roomie, I have your back.” Christina tossed an arm around her shoulders and smiled brightly.
Grace relaxed and took a tentative sip of the beer in her hand. With a wrinkled nose, she placed it on the table behind her. “That tastes like puke.”
“At least it tastes the same going down as it does coming up.” Christina chuckled.
“I will pass on that.” Grace smiled. Her eyes scanned the room and she took in the raucous scene in front of her. Several guys paused to chat with Christina and look her over. Grace found herself growing warm, and it certainly wasn't just from the mass of bodies in the room. She reached behind her and took a hesitant sip of the lukewarm beer. She put it down and pulled a fresh one from the cooler, absentmindedly running the icy can over her neck and the tops of her breasts, seeking to cool herself off.
Beads of cool liquid ran down her skin and she groaned softly at the relief from the heated room. Christina glanced over and smirked. “Having a moment?”
“Yeah, that felt good, it's so hot in here.” Grace blew out a breath and smiled.
“Just so you know, you probably gave every guy in this room a massive hard-on. If it was me, I’d just run the can between my jugs and really get 'em going.” Christina demonstrated by pulling the silver lycra from her skin and propping her can against her skin.
Grace smirked and dipped the cool can into the valley of her ample bosom before blushing and putting the can behind her. “You're crazy.”
“Watch, here come two guys...” Christina pointed to a lanky dark haired guy and a blond who was muscular and broad shouldered.
Grace's mouth went drier than the Sahara and she fumbled behind her butt for the open beer. Putting it to her lips she chugged the rest of the can down. Mercy, they are coming to talk to us.
Saving Grace (Wild Rose Book 1) Page 3
