Courtney rested against the passenger seat of the Jeep and stared out the window, letting the passing landscape sweep away her thoughts. She didn't want to think right then, so she focused on the blur of houses and trees. She absorbed the rush of wind as it flowed through the open window. She watched as her fingers tips were tugged at as she dangled her hand out the window.

She didn't look at her ankle or the bulky brace on it.

She didn't have a clue as to where Micah was taking her.

She didn't care.

All the roads he took were back roads. More scenic routes.

He could be taking them to the beach. Isn't that where teens went to gain perspective on life, feel like their troubles weren't so bad as they stared off into the endless sea?

Courtney highly doubted the beach at three in the afternoon would have that same effect for her. Sandcastles, little kids, mostly naked bodies... Not really conducive to self-reflection.

She didn't ask Micah about it and he didn't offer.

In fact, neither of them had said a single thing as they got into the car and drove away.

He didn't try to offer her words of comfort and she was grateful.

It was two weeks after all, she wasn't going to lose the limb or anything. She hadn't been kicked off the squad. It was just two weeks.

Eventually, Micah broke from the back roads and drove into a large shopping center. Courtney perked up. Definitely not the beach. She couldn't put together where he was taking her until he found a parking spot across the way from a frozen yogurt place.

"This is the consolation fro-yo place," Micah said, opening his door. "Whenever we face something hard or a competition is lost, this is where my mom and dad take us."

Family tradition and he brought her here. Something about that made Courtney want to smile and cry. Oh jeez, that was an embarrassing reaction.

Doing neither, she opened her door and waited for Micah. She stared at her ankle brace. Maybe she could wrap it in fabric, brighten it up. Could she paint it? There had to be some way to make it less... Less than what it was. Make it less than what it felt like: an anchor attached to her foot instead of the support it was supposed to be.

Bleh. Yes, woe is me. Let me swoon from the deep struggles of life.

"Hey," Micah said, drawing Courtney out of her thoughts.

He held out her crutches and it took her a second longer than normal to accept them. He took her arm, helping her as she stepped down.

"How does the brace feel?" he asked.

"Like I'm a cyborg but without the coolness of being a cyborg."

Micah chuckled softly and Courtney found a bit of her smile at the sound. She took a step, testing out how much weight she could put on her ankle. It was far less than she wanted. But said nothing. Their progress to the frozen yogurt place took time as she continued to walk and test.

"Don't push yourself," Micah said. "It will take time."

Yes, but I don't want it to. Courtney sighed. It will take time. Just breathe.

For the rest of the trip across the parking lot, Courtney gave up trying to use her foot and went back to relying solely on the crutches.

The frozen yogurt shop's interior looked like all the brightest yogurt flavors had exploded on it. Pink check-out counter, lavender walls, bright green tables, and baby blue chairs. It was like the entire shop was forcibly banishing negative auras from entering.

Courtney wasn't sure it was working on her.

Micah played assistant to her, getting her taste tests of flavors and eventually filling her cup with whatever she wanted alongside his own. They took a seat at a back table and Courtney took a bite, focusing on savoring the blend of flavors in her mouth. Opposite her, Micah ate and watched her.

Only then did she realize how depressing she was being. First, she cried on him and now she was being a mope. And he was trying to cheer her up.

She smiled at him. "You know, I always thought peanut butter filled the cracks of the heart. Clearly I was wrong, it's frozen yogurt."

Instead of laughing, Micah lowered his spoon and cup, looking serious. What had she said wrong?

"Cory."

Why did him saying her nickname have more of a positive effect on her than the frozen yogurt? Not the time.

"You don't have to do that," he said.

"Do what?"

"Make light of what's going on."

What else was she supposed to do, make it darker? A strange thought but sure, she could do that.

Micah set down his frozen yogurt. "You can talk about it."

Courtney smiled wryly as she dug her spoon into her yogurt. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure no one wants to hear a pretty, rich, blonde girl complain about her struggles."

"I didn't think I was no one," Micah said, gently.

"You're not no one."

"Then I want to hear about them."

Courtney didn't answer. What could she say? My life is so hard, whine whine whine. I have to wait before going back to cheer, whine, whine, whine. Omg I can't walk, I might as well die!

Wow, even hearing that in my head makes me want to throw up.

Courtney let out a breath. "I don't see any point. Honestly, my struggles are so inconsequential compared to so many other people's."

"There's your problem," Micah said, pointing his spoon at her. "You're comparing your struggles, therefore down playing what you're actually going through."

Compare? I thought it was perspective.

"My mom has this saying, everyone is equipped for the struggles they face. Everyone's situation is different. That means that what you're struggling with might be too much for someone else."

Having to get through only two weeks? No, pretty sure that's not that big of a deal to anyone.

"Growing up in my family I had to work hard not to compare myself to everyone else. Comparisons never help a situation," Micah said, softly.

He waved his spoon in the air. "For instance, anyone looking at my dad would say his life is really easy. He's wealthy, has a large successful business, and has a good family. Everyone would think, he's happy, he has no struggles. Except they don't see how hundreds of people's jobs depend on my dad making the right decision in every situation. They don't see the pressure. They only see what he has, not his struggles.

"From the outside, Denzel could look like he doesn't have a problem in the world. At a good college that he's not paying for and on a great football team. He's got it made. He has no struggles. Except he could injure himself and lose his whole career. Or fail classes and be kicked off."

Micah leaned back in his chair and poked his yogurt with his spoon, not looking at Courtney as he continued.

"Compared to a lot of people, my struggles would seem paltry. I struggle with talking to girls...or did. I have no clue what I want to do with my life or what college I want to go to. That's nothing compared to people who will have to work two or three jobs just to make it through college." He lifted his gaze. "Does that mean the struggles I'm facing are meaningless?"

"No. Just different."

"Then why isn't it the same for your struggles?"

Courtney wasn't sure what to say.

"Did you know your life would seem hard to some people?" he asked.

She snorted. "What about my life would be hard for someone?"

"The fact that everyone watches you, says hi to you would be really hard for an introvert. Cheering and pushing your body to its limits would be exhausting to someone not built for that. Winning Senior Class President when you didn't run would be overwhelming to someone who wasn't meant to be a leader. But those things aren't hard for you, are they?"

"Not really."

"Because you're equipped to handle all of that. But handling something doesn't mean you have to be alone."

Alone. She was never alone. She lived her life in a fishbowl, always on display for everyone to observe and watch. She couldn't even go to a football game and leave without dozens of people noticing. She wasn't alone.

"I know I'm not alone," she said, smiling.

Micah watched her. "Then why did you look so lonely outside the gym?"

Courtney swallowed but found her previous throat boulder had a smaller cousin.

"You have an amazing smile but you don't always have to use it. It's okay not to. And you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to. But...I want you to know you can. It's okay to be real with people. Life is never perfect and easy, so you don't have to act like it is."

Courtney couldn't hold his gaze and stared down at her melting yogurt, digging her spoon into it. She knew that, she did, but...

"It's only two weeks," she said, her voice wobbly. "It seems so stupid to make a big deal out of two weeks."

"It is two weeks but right now that feels like two weeks too many, doesn't it?"

Courtney nodded and blinked hard, her vision blurring.

"It can feel that way," he said. "You don't have to reason it away or try to make it better. You can feel that way and not be some pretty, rich, blonde girl who is complaining. You can simply be a normal human being facing a struggle."

Courtney laughed even as a couple of tears spilled out. A normal human being. She liked that.

Micah scrunched his face in worry. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head. "No, but that's because I'm a normal human being facing a struggle."

He smiled at her and she returned it because it felt easy to do.

"You know what else normal human beings do?"

"Eat melted frozen yogurt?" she asked.

"They get through the struggles."

Courtney nodded again. They get through them.

"And they talk about them." He cocked his head. "Your struggle must be pretty hard if the girl I saw sprain her ankle and didn't shed a tear is crying over this."

Courtney half-smiled at that but the smile didn't last. Talk. Talk about her struggle. But was it even a struggle? It was two weeks.

"I can tell you want to say something," Micah said.

Courtney stabbed her spoon into her yogurt and dropped the cup onto the table.

"I understand what you're saying and yes, I shouldn't compare. I should talk about it. But... But the fact is even without comparing, my struggle is having to wait two weeks. Two weeks.

"There's no way to frame that better that doesn't make me feel dramatic for wanting to cry about it. I mean for crying out loud I have Homecoming to work on, it's not like I'm stuck doing nothing with my time. It's only two flipping weeks."

Courtney let out a breath, trying to reign in her emotions because she was pretty sure they were tainting the cheery atmosphere of the fro-yo shop.

"But it's not 'just two weeks'," Micah said.

Courtney made a face. "Pretty sure it is."

"Cory, it's two weeks of still walking with crutches. And from what I saw it's dealing with an ankle that's still weak." He toyed with his spoon and shrugged bashfully. "I don't know what it's like to be an athlete, but I talked to Felicity when she hurt her ankle.

"She said it was like she didn't feel like herself. She used to know exactly how strong she was, how capable she was. But then she found out that simply walking up stairs was tiring. So it's okay to cry because it's not 'just two weeks'."

Courtney blinked without realizing she'd started to cry again. Hastily, she wiped them away. Now that was a different perspective. One she vibed with.

"Since when did you become the wise one," she said. "I thought that was my role."

"An idiot has to learn a thing or two, right?"

Courtney stared at her frozen yogurt and felt more tears building. She wished she could stop construction because she hated crying.

"My stairs have become Mount Everest in my mind," she said, quietly. "I didn't know some of the smallest tasks could be so tiring."

"You could live at my house for the two weeks and use our elevator."

At that, Courtney laughed though it came out choked. Micah stood and grabbed a stack of napkins for her. She wiped away her tears.

"That does sound tempting. But I think my parents might find it odd." She sighed and looked at her melting yogurt, searching for the chocolate cups hidden in it. "Thank you, Micah."

He gave her a half-smile and focused on his yogurt. Neither of them talked but it's because they'd said what needed to be said for the time being. Courtney couldn't help replaying Micah's words in her head, 'it's okay to cry because it's not 'just two weeks'.

Funny enough, that reassurance made her not feel the need to cry. Though if she did, she had his permission to do so.

Once the cups were empty, Micah collected them and tossed them into the trash. As they stepped outside and into the warm sunlight, Courtney paused, soaking it in. Micah said nothing, simply stood beside her.

"Here," she said, handing him her unused napkins. "For your emergency glove compartment stash."

He grinned and accepted the gift. Though it was a weak one compared to the gift of talking and yogurt he'd given her. Right, no comparing. It can simply be a good, yet small gift.

"What's it to be now?" Micah said making a circle and facing her.

"What's what to be?"

"What are we going to do to cheer you up? You talked about it, now we can find some way to make the day a little brighter. Are we going to buy me all new shoes? Get my ear pierced so I wear an edgy stud or something? Buy me a salmon colored shirt."

Courtney laughed and felt as it made her feel lighter. She searched the shopping center then focused back on Micah.

"There is one thing," she said, pointing to a shop on the other side of the center. Micah found it and read the sign: Clean Cut, Styled to You.

"A haircut," he said.

"Only if you want to and not to cheer me up."

He pulled at his curls and seemed to realize just how frantic they were.

"What would I get?" he asked.

"That's the best part of this particular barber, he's a portrait artist as well. He doesn't go with what's trending, instead he curates a look specialized to enhance your best features."

"You know this specific barber?" Micah asked.

"Yeah, he's my dad's college friend. And my dad's first client. Richie got big because of my dad, and the fact that what he does is amazing."

Staring at the shop, Micah played with his hair and stopped when his fingers got snagged in a section. He looked at Courtney embarrassed as he tugged his fingers free.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. Do you want to drive over?"

Yes. No. I want time with you.

"Let's walk. It will be slow," she said.

"Fine by me."

They set off at a leisurely pace. That's right it was leisurely, like they were a rich lord and lady going about their property. Okay, not really the vibe but sounded better than snail's pace. Who wants to be an insect.

"Micah."

"Cory?"

She fought a smile, still liking the sound of it.

"You said you did struggle talking to girls. What changed that?"

For a second, Micah said nothing, staring at the sidewalk and tugging at his curls.

"Ummm...well...you."

"How so?"

Micah let out a breath and swung his arms, still not looking at her. He wasn't blushing but Courtney got the sense he was embarrassed.

"You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," she said.

"It's fine. Growing up in my family, I was the quiet one. Everyone talked a mile a minute and I could barely get two words in. That developed into struggling to complete sentences." He glanced at her. "You might have noticed that."

Ah! The mystery of the adorably broken sentences has been solved. Watson will have a field day writing up this complex case.

"I did," Courtney said.

"Well," Micah went on. "I didn't grow out of it. And when I talked to girls like that they would give me odd looks, which only made it worse. I could talk on the phone easier since I couldn't see someone's reaction."

That also explained their easy phone call after the party. The twists this plot has taken!

"How did I change any of that though?" Courtney asked.

He didn't look at her but a slow, shy smile grow on his face. "Because you never gave me an odd look and you always seemed like you wanted to hear what I had to say. You never got impatient. One time you even encouraged me to say something in one breath to get it out. It was the first time anyone had wanted to help me instead of judge me for it."

He scratched the back of his neck and glanced at her. In his face, she saw a bashful warmth that made her feel toasty inside.

"Every interaction we had I became less nervous about what I was saying and simply said it. All because you cared to hear it. So thank you."

She playfully nudged her shoulder with his and grinned. "You brought me frozen yogurt and let me cry on you. I say we're even."

"And I thought it was because I let you take over my life and remake me?"

"Not remaking, merely a little redesigning."

They smiled at each other and Courtney felt that toasty feeling again.

At the barbershop, Micah opened the door for her and they walked in. It buzzed with the hum of clippers and men chatting to each other. It smelled like every good male scent there was. It was a little intoxicating and heavenly.

Though Courtney still liked the smell of fabric softener and Mexican food.

Richie raised his head from his computer and beamed at seeing Courtney.

"Hey, Richie," she said.

A happy grin spilt Richie's dark face and his black eyes lit up but dimmed when he took in her crutches and ankle brace.

"Cory, what happened to your foot, baby girl?"

"Cheer. It's not permanent." She gestured to Micah. "I was wondering if you have a possible opening for my friend?"

"Anything for my favorite family. I had a cancellation and can make the cut myself."

Richie turned to Micah and held out his hand. "Richie Fletcher."

"Micah."

"Okay, Micah do you have a haircut in mind, or are you here for something specialized to you."

Micah glanced back at Courtney and she pointed to him. This was all his decision. She would only take over so much. With a nod, Micah looked at Richie. He held up his arms and dropped them.

"Specialized," Micah said.

"Great. Cory, why don't you take a seat."

"Have him tell you about how he got into his career," Courtney said to Micah.

Richie shook his head. "You love that story."

"It's a great story about a wonderful mother and son bond. Who doesn't like that?"

Still smiling, Richie walked Micah to the back where the sinks were. Courtney settled into a chair, letting out a breath, grateful to be off her foot and crutches.

She watched as Richie talked to Micah as he washed his hair. When they came back to the first chair in the row, Courtney caught the tail end of Richie's story about how his mother, a hairstylist, had given him a haircut that worked perfectly for him and made him feel confident in himself. Because of it, he'd had the courage to ask his crush out. His crush who eventually became his wife.

Courtney loved the story, well aware it was because it aligned so much with her own. For him it was a haircut, for her it was a yellow dress that made her feel different about herself. Both moments had changed their view of life and put them on their career paths.

Watching Richie assess Micah's features and gauge what would work best on him, she felt like she was watching herself in the future. Seeing how her eye for something could help someone else.

When Richie finished, he swept away the black cape from around Micah and told him to play with his hair and feel it out. Micah stood and leaned closer to the mirror, running his hand through it. It was far shorter than before but Richie had somehow still managed to keep the playfulness of his curls.

Micah turned to Courtney and held out his hands. "What do you think?"

Woah!

With him facing her, Courtney got the full effect of the haircut and found she couldn't speak. He'd always been cute but with the new hairstyle, his high cheeks bones, and jawline were more prominent. Most of all, his eyes were highlighted. His kind, beautiful, melted chocolate brown eyes.

Micah raised his eyebrows prompting her, but before she could give a response, the door to the barbershop opened and a pretty girl about sixteen strode in.

"Daddy," she said, walking up to Richie. "I'm here, I'm alive. I'm going to Starbucks to do homework so you can..."

She trailed off when she noticed Micah. A flirty smile cut across her face and she bypassed Richie to stand before Micah.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Alisha."

Micah looked surprised by the approach and Courtney saw as it took a second for him to register that the girl was in fact talking to him before he grinned down at Alisha.

"I'm Micah," he said.

Alisha played with a strand of her hair. "I'm happy to meet you."

Courtney stilled. What the frack have I done?

**********************************************************************

What the diddly diggery doo was that?!

One second it's going well, their bonding, their connecting and then BAM! A hole in our ship!! What the flippin eggs!

One step forward and two freaking steps back! Now tell me, where you at?? (Not location wise but emotion wise. I know where you are located, two steps back)💬🗯💭

I know, I know. I can hear you thinking it: Joy, it's just a haircut, can it make that big a difference?

*stands and buttons suit jacket knowing I look snazzy in a suit*

Your honor. *looks around the courtroom* Ladies and gentlemen of the court, today I would like to refute the statement: it's just a haircut, can it make that big a difference.

They say that clothes make the man. But there could be a saying for all people: the hair makes the person.

*paces back and forth* I believe that not only is a haircut, and the right haircut, impactful on a person's appearance. I truly believe that with a haircut, though it be only 20% of a person's look, it can made an 80% change.

*opens briefcase and removes a folder*

Your honor. I would like to enter these photos into evidence to prove my point.

As you and the jury can see. Though each individual is attractive in the before photo, their looks are heightened by the haircut.

Thank you, your honor. The defense rests.

Haha thanks for coming to my trial. I always wanted to play out a courtroom drama. *tugs at my cuffs* I have to say I think I crushed it.

It should be known I see Micah with more curls on the side and less of a shaved look. But that's just me... the author... the created of this world. So what do I know.

வாக்களியுங்கள், கருத்து தெரிவிக்கவும், பின்பற்றவும்! வா! உன்னால் முடியும்! (Tamil)

What's a reference that you make and no one gets?

I made one in this book. When Miguel falls asleep in the library he's reading Swan's Way by Proust. Cory says at least one of them fell asleep. It's a joke because in the first book in Swan's Way the main character is trying to fall asleep and the whole thing is a flashback. 😄