This story is so much fun to write i am enjoying myself with it :) i have a big crush on maddie

ty for reading 

love u

Chapter Eight

Something between Maddie and I has changed. The thick barriers I worked so hard to build up have been dented. They haven't successfully fallen, but I'm trying to damn hard to keep them up. I don't know why she genuinely wants to talk to me, and a part of me is scared she only wants to because she knows I don't eat much, and because she saw my arm of bruises.

I don't think I want her to get to know me. I don't think I want to be friends with her. I don't trust her, simply because, I feel like she tries too hard to pry into my personal life, and yet offers nothing of her own.

I quickly put on my coat, keeping my eye on the time. Today is actually thanksgiving, and though the salon is closed, and I should be off, I had received a text from Iris, my most difficult client, if I could come in and wash her hair today.

I didn't know how to say no, so I said sure.

She said she'd be there at 8:00 a.m., which is the usual time she comes, but it's already almost 7:30 a.m., and I have to get there before she does.

I open the front door, bracing myself for having to run, when I nearly collide right into Maddie.

I stare at her wide-eyed, while she looks just as surprised as I do. And then I see the small snow flakes on her hair, and I look behind her to see at least three inches of snow on the ground, and it's still falling.

Panic seizes me when I realize I have to somehow beat Iris to the salon before 8:00 whilst running in the slick snow.

"Shit." I don't mean to say out loud, but it's the first thing that comes to mind when my eyes meet the snow.

"It's fucking early, and the roads are ice. You probably should rethink driving to wherever you're going right now. It's ugly." Maddie says as she walks into the apartment, she doesn't move out of my way, forcing me to back inside with her. If I didn't know any better, I would think she didn't move on purpose, like she was trying to keep me home.

I shake my head, "I have to go into work."

She frowns, "Work? Why do you have to work on Thanksgiving?"

"I'll only be gone for an hour." And then I add, "You work tonight." I tell her as if that makes it better. 

"Yeah, I'm a medical worker, the hospital is one of  the only things open on a major holiday. Also an hour? Why would you be called into work for only an hour, who calls someone in on Thanksgiving day for an hour? What do you even do? Where do you work?"

She doesn't know I'm a stylist. Somehow, almost a month of living together, and she has no idea what I do for a living. 

For some strange reason, I don't want to tell her. 

I've experienced it several times before. The interest someone has when they ask you what you do, only for their expectations to fall when you say 'hairstylist'.  People who don't know what they're talking about, or who don't know anything about the industry have no idea how difficult it is being a hairstylist. They all assume you're just 'playing with hair'. I've even been told that cosmetology isn't a valid profession.

It's just another thing, out of all the important things in my life, I prefer to keep quiet about.

"I'm sorry, Maddie, but I really have to go."

I try to step around her, but she once again, side-steps in front of me, blocking my exit, "Seriously, the roads are dangerous."

"I'll be fine." I'm not driving anyway. Not that she will know that.

Why the fuck was Iris so adamant on getting a blowout on Thanksgiving morning in the middle of a snowstorm anyway?

And why did I agree to it?

She sighs, as if giving up, and steps aside, letting me leave. The last thing I hear before I slam the door shut is, "Seriously, be careful."

Be careful. Why was she suddenly so concerned for my safety? Shaming me to eat, scolding me for avoiding her, and now this? I don't know how to react to any of it.

I trudge to the snow, my eyes glued to the time on my phone. My encounter with Maddie set me back three minutes. I don't know if I'm going to make it to the salon before Iris, and if I don't make it, she will throw a fit.

I don't have the energy to run, but still, I do it. I feel my heart pounding, and I can barely breathe, and it's so cold my face is numb, but I keep going.

The world spins, and after a while, I can't even feel my body moving. It is as if I am outside of my body, watching myself run.

By the time I make it to the salon, I shakily pull out the keys to the door, and quickly try to make it in before I pass out on the street.

The salon is empty of course, and I realize how much I like it when I'm alone.

I set up my station in record time, and sit for a second just to catch my breath. My body is freezing, and glancing at myself in the mirror was a mistake. My dark circles are darker than usual, and I can see my veins a lot clearer than I usually can, which is hideous.

I can't help but think how embarrassing it is to be me. To look like me. To have the life that I have. 

It is so fucking humiliating, and the worst part is, I have the power to change myself, and I don't.  Mentally, I can't do it. I'm too scared to try.

The bell to the front door rings, indicating someone has walked into the building. I already know its Iris, and I'm right. She doesn't even wait at the front desk, she immediately goes to the back where my station is, and I get up so she can sit in my place.

"Good morning, Iris." I give her a smile, but I am so tired.

"You look sick."

"Thank you, Iris."

"No, I mean it." She stares at me through the mirror, "You catch that flu? Should I be worried for my safety?"

"I'm not sick."

"You sure? You look it."

I pull the cape around her, and simply beckon her to walk with me to the sink.

I scrub her scalp, just like she likes it, and make it through her blowout without passing out. My arms hardly have the energy to hold up a hairdryer. I'm so tired.

"Have you any plans today, Iris?" I try to make conversation, just so I can keep her focused on something that isn't my appearance.

"Son invited me to dinner, guess I'm going."

"What about your other son?"

"Haven't heard from him." That's all she says on that.

I nod once, and don't bother telling her I have no plans, because I don't think she cares about what I do.

It takes me no time at all to finish her hair. Her hair is pretty thin, and there's not much to work with, so I'm done in less than half an hour.

"Be careful getting home, Iris." I say to her, as I hold the two dollars she tipped me with.

She says nothing to me as she leaves, and I lock the door behind her.

I don't immediately leave back home, I want to catch my breath before I force myself to go back out there, which now was only worse because the snow hasn't stopped falling.

I only have myself to blame for this. It's not Iris's fault that I don't know how to say no.

I slowly pull my long coat on, I button it up, and pull out my gloves that I keep in my coat pocket.

I clean down the salon, put away everything on my station, and I close up the place.

Walking through the snow wasn't as bad this time, since I don't have to run. It's cold, and my face is once again numb, but I don't care. The pressure of making it before Iris isn't a concern now, and so, I don't care how long it takes for me to get home.

I keep my focus forward, and count my steps. My head feels dizzy and foggy, and I am already dreaming of my bed despite it being not even 9:30 a.m.

The snow seems to be falling even quicker since I had walked too the salon, and the wind has picked up, which takes up more energy each step I make.

Finally, the apartment is in view, and I might cry. I'm so happy that it's a holiday and I can waste away at home, away from anyone and everything. 

I walk up the stairs to our apartment and unlock the door.

I practically fall in, shutting the door behind me, I lean against it, closing my eyes tight, trying to calm my racing heart. I was only walking, and my heart is racing.

I need to eat something. I need to have more than six hundred calories today.

"Hey, you back?"

I nearly jump when I see Maddie sitting on the couch, her arm casually resting on the back, and her phone in her hand. She looks at me, like she's bored, but I know she has to be tired.

"I thought you'd be asleep. You have work tonight."

"So?"

"So? Get some sleep."

"I will. I was waiting for you."

I only stare at her, not really sure what to say to that. "Waiting for me?"

"Yeah, making sure you got home alright. You said you'd only be an hour, which was a lie, by the way."

I don't know if it is because I'm tired, or because Maddie has a way of bringing out the worst in me, but I don't stop the words from falling out as I say, "You know you're not my mother, right?"

She doesn't seem offended, instead, there's a slight grin on her lips, "Oh, I know. If I was I'd have kicked your ass a long fucking time ago."

I wince at her, "What's that supposed to mean?"

She gets up, and give me a small mock salute with two fingers, "I'm going to bed."

The fact that she has absolutely no filter on her when it comes to me has me confused. Is it just me she talks this way to because she sees me as an easy target, or does she talk like this to everyone?

She's halfway to her bedroom when I ask, "Do you treat everyone like you treat me?"

She stops, and I see her slowly turn to me, "What?"

"You treat me like I'm a stupid little girl who can't take care of herself." It doesn't help that I can't look her in the eyes. I'm staring at the wall, because I can't handle seeing her blue eyes on me.

I expect her to defend herself, or perhaps even say, 'Yeah, I do, what are you going to do about it?' But instead she asks, "Well, are you?"

I am so fucking tired of this. I am so tired of her games, because that's what they feel like. Games, like she's messing with me, like she's mocking me.

The words spill out before I can stop them, "I don't think we should talk to each other anymore. Unless it's necessary, I mean." I regret it as soon as I say it.

Her eyebrows crease, and I'm so tired I have to lean against the arm of the couch to steady myself. 

"Are you serious?"

No. "Yes."

She's silent for a long moment, and not once do I look up at her. She once called me a coward before, and she was right. 

After what feels like forever, she finally speaks, "Okay. If that is what you want." And without another word, she goes to her bedroom, and shuts the door.