In silence, I spray the water through his hair, then get the shampoo formulated for curls. Most salons use fancy products, but like I said, Mildred’s cheap, so this is a generic jumbo container from the beauty supply shop, and it has a faint lemon scent. His chest moves in a sigh when I work the shampoo from scalp to ends and back again. I create lather, scrub gently, and then, like I do for most clients—unless they’re in a hurry—I massage his scalp.

His eyes fluttered open then, and his lips part. A faint flush tinges his cheekbones, and he’s looking up at me. I’ve never seen a stare like this. It’s deep, hungry, and it makes my toes curl.

“Rinse,” he says softly.

I do.

Before I can get a towel from the shelf above, he’s out of the chair, and I’m against his chest. Water sprinkles down on me, but I don’t care. I put my arms around his waist, surprised by the urgency of his hold.

“You’re the only person in the world who gives a shit about me,” he whispers. “I can’t believe I got pissed at you for showing it.”

“It was my fault. I didn’t listen … and I don’t blame you. I shouldn’t have done it without asking.”

“Maybe not … but I was an asshole.”

I shrug. “You’re entitled.”

“Not to you, Sage. I want to be the one person who never lets you down.”

I exhale a shaky breath. “This was horrible,” I admit quietly.

And a little scary. I didn’t realize how fast—maybe too fast—I’d come to trust him. For him to vanish, it felt like the rug was yanked out from under me. Possibly I should pull back now, saying smart, cautious things about how we might need each other too much and that’s not healthy. But that’s the therapist talking in my head, not me. I hope. I only know that we’ve made an actual connection, and it will take more than this to make me give it up.

“For me too. Nothing even felt real without you.”

Wow. It’s quite a revelation to discover that I’m as important to him as he’s become to me. This is like being poised on a precipice, not knowing whether you’ll fall or fly. But I’m leaning into the wind, enjoying the freedom. I wish this moment could last forever.

“I sat outside with the burners,” I confess.

Shane smiles wryly. “Lila was worried about you at lunch. She was eyeing me like she thought I killed you and stashed your body.”

“You sat at our usual table?” That surprises me. I figured he’d be hiding somewhere. Before we started talking, he kept so much to himself.

He nods. “I was hoping you’d be there.”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t.” I pause, rubbing my cheek against his chest. Even in his P&K uniform, he’s hot. “Maybe we should talk about how to keep this from happening again. I care obviously … and it bothers me to think of you walking five miles in the dark. That’s not crazy, right?”

“No. But … I’m not big on having my choices taken away.”

Yeah, he wouldn’t be. So many things have been beyond his control.

“So if I ask first, that would be better?”

“Yeah.” Shane glances at the cat-shaped clock on the wall, the kind with the google eyes and a pendulum for the tail. “Crap, gotta go. I’ll have to run to make it back before my break ends.”

“Wait!” Quickly, I pat his hair dry and then crinkle my fingers through it with some product designed to enhance soft curls.

He ducks for a quick kiss and then he’s gone in a jangle of the front door. Grace comes back to the shampoo station, grinning like mad. “He’s cute.” She stretches the word into twelve syllables. “How long’s that been going on?”

“A few weeks?”

For me, honestly, it began the minute he walked into my math class, but I couldn’t tap his shoulder and say, Hi, I’m yours, take me home. Surprising as it may sound, the crazy approach makes some dudes nervous. So I’m trying to save my insanity, dole it out in trickles, so he doesn’t run screaming. He still might when he figures me out, but I’ll have some sweet memories by then.

Like him saying, I want to be the one person who never lets you down.

The bizarre part is that I would like to believe in him. He’s that mythical being, rare as a unicorn. He’s the one I can trust, right, universe? I’ve been waiting a long time for you, Shane Cavendish. You have no idea.

“Tell me everything,” Grace demands.

She’s my favorite of the stylists, a young twenty-eight who didn’t know what she wanted to be when she grew up … and still doesn’t. Grace fell into beauty school because she had a coupon. As it turned out, she was pretty good, but she still doesn’t see this as her life’s work. She’s always looking for the handsome prince who’ll take her away from all this. But there aren’t many around here.

My plan is to leave town in two years. After graduation, I picture myself going to Unity College in Maine, and after that? I have no idea. Wherever I can find work, I guess. The future sometimes looms like a monster, a horrible scary one with teeth and claws. It’s hard to plan your life when all the news talks about is how screwed up the world’s become.

I tell Grace a little about Shane as we lock up. She beams at me. “I envy you, Sage. First love is the best. He’s the one you’ll compare everyone else to hereafter.”

Her assumption that we’ll break up takes the shine off my joy. I don’t say anything because Grace treats me like an adult, mostly, and she’d be upset if she knew how much reality bums me out. I mean, she’s right. Romance usually doesn’t last at sixteen, but you don’t want to think about it. You just want to feel.

“Great,” I mumble. “Night, Grace.”

I unfasten my bike chain while she locks up. Then I go about my nightly reflective tape ritual. So embarrassing. She laughs at me, shaking her head as she walks to her car. The streetlights are bright here, but once I leave the small downtown area, it gets dark fast.

I’m pedaling slowly toward home when I hear a car coming. Since I’m on the sidewalk, it shouldn’t be a problem, but the screech of tires scares me. I throw a look over my shoulder and find a black truck about to eat me. I wobble sideways and land hard on my hands and knees. Its tires hit the curb, bouncing toward me. Scrambling backward, I come against the fence that keeps people from screwing around in the auto body parking lot.

The headlights switch to high beam, practically blinding me. I clench my phone, already finding 911 with my fingertips. Then Dylan climbs out of the cab, propping his arms on top of the door. “Not such a scary bitch now, are you?”

His stillness is the only reason I don’t complete the call. “Isn’t it exhausting?”

“What?”

“Being such an asshole all the time. Don’t you occasionally want the day off?”

“You don’t know anything about me,” he snaps.

“I know there’s something really wrong with you.”

He growls and comes around the door, but when I raise my phone, he stops. “You pretend to be so nice, but deep down, you’re as bad as everyone else.”

“I’m nice to those who deserve it,” I correct.

“And you think I’m not?”

“No,” I say. “You made life hell for a couple of people who are important to me.”

Dylan clenches a fist. “Lila’s using you, she’s tired of her old crew. That’s what she does, constantly reinvents herself because if she didn’t, she’d have to take a long look in the mirror.”

“Says the guy who lied when he told the whole school he popped her cherry.”

“Whatever. You’ll get a taste of her poison sooner or later.”

“What do you want, Dylan?”

He bites his lip. His followers would lose all respect if they could see how uncertain he looks at this moment. “I was wondering … how do you know about … them?”

No question that he means his mom and the principal. “I saw them kissing in his office.”

“Goddammit. I warned her. I told her to be careful.” He runs a harried hand over his short hair. “Do you have any idea how tired I am of dealing with this shit?”