“You’re not fucking washing her hair.”
“Fuck you. I’m already done.” He snapped the faucets off and stepped toward North, blocking me as I stood up fully.
I trembled, and my hair dripped around my bare shoulders. Not now! I didn’t want any more fighting.
“What are you doing barging in?” Gabriel yelled.
“I thought it was you in here, and I came in to grab a razor. And now you’ve got Sang naked and you’re fucking with her.”
“I washed her god damn hair,” Gabriel said. “And now I’m about to cut it.”
“She can wash her own fucking hair.”
“She let me in!” Gabriel snapped. He jabbed a finger back toward my face while staring down North. “Do you think for one minute I’d do anything to her? Have you lost your god damn mind? I didn’t force my way in.”
North’s jaw set and he glared back. “Just go.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes and he turned back to me. “Get dressed and meet me in the garage. Don’t take too long.” He opened the closet to grab another towel and handed it to me. “Wrap your hair in that so you don’t drip everywhere, but don’t dry it out.”
I clutched the extra towel to my body. I didn’t trust the towel I was wearing to hang on if I lifted my arms. I was also scared to say anything or move in fear they’d start fighting again. How could Kota be serious to think arguing meant they cared?
North started sniffing the air. He stepped over to me, pressing his nose to my head. He jerked his head back. “What the fuck is wrong with her head?”
“It’s the shampoo,” I whispered, holding the extra towel up close to my mouth to partially hide my face.
“Gabe,” North barked. His eyes met mine and held firmly. “Change the formula. It smells like shit.”
“It’s not there to make her smell pretty.”
“I don’t care. It stinks. Change it.” He smirked and winked at me. “Sang can’t smell like a dead rat.”
“God damn shit,” Gabriel grumbled, marching into Kota’s room and down the stairs. “Gabriel, don’t wash her hair. Gabriel, change the motherfucking formula. Gabriel, cut off your own ear and eat it.” There was more but he’d wandered off into the house and it was lost.
I rattled when I realized I was standing naked in a towel, alone with North, also naked in a towel. His was hanging off of his hips lower, and I saw more of the line of hair below his belly button, and the start of the angle of his hip bones. I focused on the wall.
North’s fingers found my chin, lifting. “Don’t let him walk over you,” he said. “If you’re uncomfortable, tell him to back off. If he doesn’t listen, come find me.”
I nodded. Was this the same North that was yelling a minute ago? His eyes were softer now, his touch gentle.
He stepped back. “Get some clothes on. I’ll wait,” he said. He closed the door behind himself.
I hurriedly put on my underwear and a pair of jean shorts with the bottom hem made to look like cut strips. Half of the shorts were bleached out at the thighs and covered in hot pink dye. I dropped a form fitting, black t-shirt over my head. I put the bracelet on my wrist and wrapped the extra towel around my hair, twisting it up on my head to stop from dripping.
When my heart wriggled back down from my throat to my chest, I opened the door, wondering why there was a lock. Did it even work?
North was leaning against the frame. He turned, his eyes falling on my clothes. His lips parted and his palm brushed at the side of his neck. “That’s a... that looks really good on you.”
My cheeks flushed. I squeezed the fabric of the towel at my head. “Gabriel picked it out.”
“He knows his shit.” A smirk touched his lips. “Don’t tell him I said that.”
I shared a quiet smile with him. Black was his favorite color, right? Maybe he liked it when I wore that color. I wanted to remember that. It felt like he was pleased and I wanted to do that again. I side stepped away from the bathroom. “Sorry if I took too long.”
He waved his hand in the air. “Go let that bastard cut your hair, will you?” He shut the door behind himself.
In the garage, Silas was sitting in a metal folding chair. Gabriel hovered over his head with a pair of electric clippers. Max was at Silas’ feet, rolling over his toes. When I stepped barefoot down the steps, Max hopped up and met me, sniffing at my knees.
“I’ll get you in a minute, Trouble,” Gabriel mumbled, a black comb dangling from the corner of his pressed lips.
“Okay,” I said, squatting to rub Max on the head before stepping around him to cross in front of Silas. I wanted to watch Gabriel cut hair.
Silas had a towel wrapped around his shoulders, wearing jeans and a white tank shirt that made his strong arms look more massive. Silas’s eyes lit up when I came into view. “Nice shorts.”
“Do you like the pink?” I asked, pulling back my head and holding out a leg so I could look down at the material on my own body.
“I like the blue with the pink,” Silas said, pointing to the top half of the shorts where the colors blended together. “They’re a good match.”
“He likes dark blue,” Gabriel said as he made his way around to the front of Silas, bending over slightly around Silas’ knees. He pointed the end of the clippers at Silas’ nose. “Okay now for the shitty side burns you’ve let grow too far on your face.”
Silas’ fingers smoothed over the hair in front of his ears. “Leave it midway like it is,” he said.
“It’s too much,” Gabriel said. “I gave it a try. It’s not working.”
“Sang likes it.” Silas peered around at me. “Don’t you?”
I didn’t recall seeing him with shorter sideburns. He’d always looked the same to me, so I didn’t know how to respond. I did like how Gabriel had trimmed the top of his hair a little shorter. It looked like smooth fur on his head. I wanted to thread my fingers through it as it looked soft. “Yeah,” I said, wanting to please Silas. “Let him keep it.”
“Nu uh,” Gabriel said. “They’re coming off. They need to be shorter.”
“Aw,” I pouted. “Please?”
Gabriel turned on me, pointing the clippers in my direction. “Nope, stop that. I want that lip gone.”
Silas appeared in my point of view. He made his own pout behind Gabriel’s back and pointed to his lips and then to me.
It was difficult not to crack a smile at Silas’s pout and at the conspiracy he was intending, but I puckered my lower lip out more.
Gabriel scoffed. “Suck that lip back in, Sang. I mean it.”
I tilted my head down, casting my eyes to his feet as if defeated, but left my lip out. I wasn’t sure if it was working like Silas thought it would.
“Trouble, I’m gonna count to three, and if that god damn lip isn’t pulled back in, I swear...”
“Don’t be such a meanie,” I said, glancing up with my head still tilted.
Gabriel’s eyes slitted at me. “Trouble...”
“Meanie,” I countered. I twisted the pout. Without my intending, it quivered as I sucked in a breath.
“Shit... fuck,” Gabriel clutched his tools to his chest, stepping away from Silas. The comb dropped from his mouth, rattling to the ground. “Trouble, don’t do that to me,” he begged. He stepped closer. Since his hands were full, he used his wrists to push my cheeks at my face. His eyes were stressed, his mouth drawn. “Don’t do it anymore. God, please, no, please. You can’t do that to me.”
“You said you would cut them off,” I said, with difficulty with him squishing my cheeks.
“I won’t. I won’t touch it. Don’t look at me like that. He can keep it. As long as you want it.”
I stopped the pout, making a half smile against the squishing. “Are you sure?” I asked with enthusiasm, brightening up again quickly.
Gabriel’s eyes focused on my face with an unsteady relief. Silas caught my eye. He held up a thumb, mouthing good job, and grinning. I grinned back at him without thinking and Gabriel
caught it, whipping his head around just as Silas was lowering his hand and smoothing out his face.
“You motherfucker. That’s it. You’re done.” Gabriel stepped back and ripped the towel from Silas’ shoulders. “Walk around with uneven sideburns for all I care.”
Silas laughed, standing up, and brushing his fingers around his shoulders to sweep away lost bits of hair. “Totally worth it.”
“Thank you, Meanie,” I said, trying to sound thrilled with his decision. I was pleased with the nickname I’d discovered.
Gabriel’s mouth fell. “No, not that...” He pointed the clippers at my face. “Don’t you dare.”
“It’s only fitting,” Silas said. “You call her Trouble.”
“She is Trouble,” Gabriel groaned. “And you know it.”
“Nope, she’s aggele mou.”